Thankfulness (12/07/24-12/08/24)

We hit rather immediately upon one of the central themes of this epistle:  Thankfulness, joy, rejoicing.  These are all aspects of the same thing, aren’t they?  They are things that come of reflecting upon what has transpired.  It may be something relatively immediate, some event that has just come to pass, which leads us to give thanks.  If somebody gives us a gift, is it not to be expected that we shall offer our thanks to the giver of that gift?  If service has been good at the restaurant, or the store, or what have you, do we not offer thanks to the one who served?  Indeed, if we are neglectful of this in the home, our spouses come to feel that they have been taken for granted.  Thankfulness is, should be, a common feature in our lives.  It is thankfulness that prevents us from becoming presumptuous, arrogantly demanding our wants as if they were rights.  There is a reason so many pastors encourage an attitude of gratitude in their churches.  Such an attitude leads to a healthy thought life, a healthy life in the Spirit.

Now, don’t go making that a work, something you do because you sense it’s required.  Let thankfulness flow from a heart that truly recognizes what has been received!  Begin here.  You can’t be thankful if you’re convinced you did it all yourself.  You can’t be particularly thankful if what you’ve received strikes you as merely earned wages.  I mean, yes, be thankful that those wages were paid, but how much more so when what has been received has come gratis, without cause for expectation?  The implication in this giving of thanks is that indeed, the one being thanked has done us a favor.  They didn’t have to.  Whether we asked them to or not is somewhat irrelevant to the point.  It wasn’t something owed us.  It wasn’t a response to demand, a just recompense.  It was a favor.

Some of us, in a rather misguided effort to avoid puffing others up, come to avoid thankfulness.  Oh, if we thank them, they’ll become proud.  Some of us, in the same misunderstanding way, have difficulty accepting thanks from others, lest we become proud.  Well, don’t you see?  You just wind up becoming proud of your stoicism, so it really hasn’t accomplished a thing, has it?  No.  If you would avoid becoming proud, be thankful.  Be thankful even that something in you has been found worth giving thanks.

There is another mindset that crops up, that somehow, if we’re thanking God for what He’s done, we’re worshiping the gifts and not the Giver.  And again I would say, if this is our concern, then the issue remains true, whether we scrupulously avoid mentioning it or not.  It’s not our words that are at issue, it’s our character.  The reality is that God knows that you’ve noticed.  He expected you to notice.  Who gives a gift, and expects the receiver to pay it no mind?  That’s not how it works, is it?  No!  We expect that gift to spark joy, or at least we hope it will.  And where there is joy, there will be thanksgiving, won’t there?  Don’t go thinking of those letters of thanks you were forced to write as a child.  I’m sure they served a purpose somehow, but those were works, not the spontaneous joy of a thankful heart.

Maybe that’s why we find Paul so ready on the instant.  Hear it in that declaration he makes. In all my remembrance of you, I thank God.  Every time I think of you, it’s reason to give thanks to God.  Why?  Because your progress in the gospel is encouragement to me.  It gives meaning to what I’ve been doing.  It serves to remind me that no, I have not labored in vain.  When the response to this message is muted, or even absent, how great an encouragement to be able to bring to mind those amongst whom the response has been so overwhelmingly evident, and continues to be so.

Isn’t this an interesting perspective?  For Paul, the continued faithfulness of these churches he had planted was as a favor received from God.  Notice.  He doesn’t thank them for their perseverance.  I don’t think, at this stage in the letter, he’s even thanking them or God for that financial gift they sent, though it’s not out of the question.  But that’s for the next part of this study.  No.  That they so readily came to faith was a gift.  That they remained so steadfast in faith was a gift.  And that gift came not from their innate character, but from God.  That, too, will be a matter to consider further as we continue.  But for the moment, just note the direction of Paul’s thinking.  “I thank my God for you.”

Now, he is thankful for the gift of support, as well, but as we shall see, his thankfulness for that support remains more on the evidence it supplies of their faith, and the value it has for their continued faith.  Yes, it’s nice not to have to worry about finances for a bit, but that’s not the point.  This is a difficult perspective for us, here in the West.  I sit here, in the morning, in my nice, warm house, knowing that when I push the button to turn on this PC, it will come up, and I can proceed with my studies.  I know that when I go to make coffee, there will be water, that when I need more beans from the store, they will be there, that I can put gas in the car to make the run.  Honestly, for all our fretfulness, we have so very little to be truly worried about.

It seems inevitable that my thoughts will keep going back to this trip to Africa, and thoughts such as these force a bit of compare and contrast.  We came through a country where gas has become a resource that really, no amount of money can buy.  If it’s not there, you can’t buy it.  And it shocks the senses to see multiple lanes of vehicles parked at the roadside, drivers waiting, perhaps 24 hours and more, for some small delivery of fuel to arrive, that they might have a few gallons.  And none too surprisingly, enterprising individuals of dubious character and a very real need will undertake to find ways to make a living on the edges of this shortage.  And, I would have to say, thank God for it, else we would have had serious difficulty getting to the airport.

Or, come to the next country with us, where electricity has become a doubtful thing.  I mean, Malawi certainly experiences plenty of power outages, but they are generally brief matters.  Here, it was the assurance that you’re not getting any for days.  And they are hot days.  It’s coming on to high summer there, sun out and temps well into the 90s.  Now, imagine what this does for food security.  Even if you can buy food, how do you store it in that heat with no electricity to run the refrigerator?  Well, yes, you can run your generator, but how much gas do you have?  How much time can you spend shuttling to the gas station to get more?

For most of us in the West, these are things we take pretty much for granted.  Unless some extreme storm comes through, knocking down trees and therefore disrupting the grid, we pretty much expect the infrastructure to function.  Yes, it’s been getting worse, and it does seem as though our government inclines to see that it continues to do so, but still, we’re pretty confident of things working.

Where am I going with this?  Things working is not a given.  It’s not a right.  It’s a favor, really.  I would like to think that our brothers and sisters overseas recognize this somewhat more than we do, though I’m not sure that’s the case.  I suspect it soon enough becomes just the way things are, just another day like any other, and yeah, we get it.  The power may be out for days, but we’re kind of used to that now.  We work around it.  The roads may not be paved, may be fit to rip the undercarriage out of your vehicle, but we’re used to that now.  We work around it.  The food may go bad.  We’ll deal with it.  We may have to walk.  Well, we’re fit enough.  And it’s not raining.  So, just get on with it.

Yet, at least when we gather together in fellowship, there is a joy to be found in the midst of these circumstances which seems to be all but missing in our own gatherings.  I think, perhaps, when the constants of life become so unreliable, we grow more thankful for belonging to a reliable God.  When everything goes pear shaped, as the saying goes, how reassuring to know that by God’s arrangement, we have these together with us who can be support to us, and us to them.  Here is reason for thanksgiving.  God has kept us thus far, and we have His promise that He won’t let go, won’t give up on us.  “Lo!  I am with you even to the end of the age” (Mt 20:28).  Can you hear that confident assurance ringing out in this passage before us?

Be thankful!  God knows what He’s given you.  He knows you know.  He knows that you value those gifts.  You’re using them, after all.  What?  Did you think He couldn’t see that?  So, hey!  Give thanks!  Let Him know how much you are gladdened by these things.  Cut with the false piety already.  Yes, appreciate God for Who He Is.  But then, part of Who He Is shows in this giving, is this giving.  Give thanks to God!  And, as well, give thanks to those who have been the means of His giving.

Now, in this instance, I will again say that Paul is not as yet focused on the gift this church had sent him, but rather, on the gift of their existence.  They have been participants in the gospel, as he says, ‘from the first day until now.’  Okay.  Barnes insists that this cannot be a reference to them coming to faith, because that’s a one-time thing.  But how is that not ‘the first day’?  And since then, there have been not just these contributions, but the reports of others who have been through Philippi and experienced their faith, their graciousness.  Indeed, this church had been constant.  Judging by the flavor of this letter, as compared to Paul’s other epistles, they had been constant as had no other.  “You alone get it, this matter of giving and receiving” (Php 4:15).  You alone stand firm in the traditions delivered to you, receiving no false teachers – at least that would seem to be what the lack of evidence to the contrary indicates.  You alone have not made spiritual progress a matter of spiritual pride.  Oh, sure, there are occasional disagreements in that church, as with any other.  And Paul takes steps to restore harmony there.  But by and large?  This is a church that has been constant.  As Barnes observes, what a testimony!  May the same be found true of us, that we have been constant in our faith, steadfast in our adherence to the truth of God, and our submission to the lordship of our Jesus.  May we be such as find constant cause to thank our God, and who avail ourselves of that opportunity so often as it arises!  May we also be inclined to acknowledge all that we have received from God, not hiding behind false pieties as if stoicism was next to godliness.  No!  But let there be joy!  Let there be such joy as cannot be retained, but must burst out in shouts of thanksgiving and songs of praise!

It is another point of contrast that one cannot miss, when comparing the church in Africa with the church in the West.  There are a people prepared to burst forth in praise.  Let one voice begin, and all will join in with real vigor, full-on participation.  The songs may be simple or complex.  It makes no difference.  The heart longs to sing, and here is opportunity!  Something has been taught that brings new understanding, and there is a joy that will not be contained, but must speak out, must give thanks to God Who provides all wisdom.  We may see some of that in our more Pentecostal or Charismatic churches, but even there, I have to say it’s different.  There are a few, and there is always something of a question as to whether it’s the spirit or the flesh that is responding.  Now, perhaps if I were more familiar with the locals there, I might find cause for similar doubts.  But you know, when I look out across the gathering as they sing, “I give You all the glory.  I worship You, my God.  You are worthy of my praise.”  The earnestness on every face is palpable.  There is no band working up a response.  Not this time.  There are just the voices of a people gathered to hear from God and to glorify Him, and it is, I think, the most beautiful experience you could ask for.  I would love to see it reproduced here at home, but I fear it would be too manufactured, too forced, too held back by self-consciousness, or by half-hearted efforts to appear to be doing the expected thing.

But back to my topic, if I can.  Acknowledge God.  Acknowledge what He has done.  How often do you find the Psalmists reciting God’s record.  You did this, You did that, and on and on and on.  Take Psalm 136.  Every verse reminds of Who God is, what He has done, and observes, “For His lovingkindess is everlasting.”  Every verse!  And that’s a brief listing.  Take Stephen’s testimony.  Here’s the record folks.  Look what God has done!  Remember!  Don’t throw stones, give thanks!  And then, of course, seeing what He has done, recalling what He has done not just in ancient times but in your very life, let your soul know its hope.  He Who has been constant remains constant.  His work in you to date is assurance of His work in you going forward.  His past actions are firm cause for future hope.  So give thanks, and in giving thanks find hope.

It is a most beautiful aspect of Paul’s style and character that wherever he finds cause for joy, he immediately breaks forth in thanksgiving.  Thanks to Calvin for that observation, but it’s not as though it would have gone unnoticed apart from him.  No!  It’s everywhere.  In the midst of proclaiming the deepest theology, Paul cannot help but become enrapt by the joy of that deep truth, and being thus enrapt, even in mid-sermon, he bursts forth in doxology.  It is for this very reason that I came to include that doxology aspect in my study preparation.  What is here that leads you to burst forth in joyful praise of God?  It’s there!  So far as I’ve seen since I started looking, it’s always there.  This gospel is, after all, good news, and who doesn’t respond to good news with joy?

And the natural response to joy is thanksgiving, and as our thanks are given to God, the natural means of thanksgiving is prayer.  Prayer, in its turn, is our privilege and our duty.  It is our privilege in that we are invited to come before our Lord and our Father at any hour, in any circumstance, not needing to seek an audience, but knowing He will welcome us at any time we call.  It is our duty in that prayer is actually a command.  “Pray without ceasing” (1Th 5:17).  It’s not an invitation, it’s our assigned task.  How do we pray without ceasing?  I have often asked myself that very question, and have yet to arrive at a wholly satisfying answer.  I find it impossible, for example, to pray while simultaneously working through some issue of coding at work.  I can pray while I shower, though I am more likely to sing.  Perhaps, at least of late, those songs really are prayer.  I find myself mindful of particular brothers and sisters, knowing the trials they face in their lives.  This is, I confess, something quite recent.  Maybe it’s evidence of some new stage of growth in me.  Maybe it’s just being more aware of what others are going through.  Or, maybe it’s becoming a bit less self-focused.  I don’t know.  But I find myself giving thought to these things far more often, and the thought does tend to move forward to brief prayers on their behalf.  But it’s not the focused, intentional stuff of time set apart.  Now, I would say that these times of study are also, if not payer directly, at least prayer-adjacent.  Here is where I hear my God speaking to me.  Here is where I find lines of thought arising which were not there in my list of things to write about, directions traveled that pop up seemingly out of nowhere.  And I do trust that this is the Spirit’s leading, at least in many cases.

But here’s something that I would have to say is yet lacking in many of these circumstances:  Thanksgiving.  Take that other command.  “Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with thanksgiving” (Col 4:2).  Or, from this very letter.  “In everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God” (Php 4:6).  Now, I could quickly observe that God knows my wants and needs before ever I think to ask, and I would be right in that.  But that doesn’t eliminate the command, does it?  No.  But if ever we have cause to come before our God, be it with the deepest woundings of soul in need of His ministrations, yet we can indeed come with thanksgiving, if only for the awareness that even then, we are welcomed into His presence.  Even then, He listens, and without reproach.  Even then, His answer is already prepared and enroute, if only we will keep alert and see it, remembering that it may not look quite the way we expect.

So, as we consider prayer here, it is with thankfulness and joy.  Look at that!  “In every supplication of mine on behalf of you all, making my supplication with joy!”  Isn’t that something?  How often have we managed that one?  Supplication assumes need, doesn’t it?  Usually a great weeping wound of a need, else we probably wouldn’t really give it any notice.  And how are we to have joy in such a case?  Well, I’ve probably answered that in what I’ve written already.  But I’ll let Calvin offer a hint.  “Joy refers to the past; prayer to the future.”  I love that.  Joy comes of knowing that God has ever been faithful, with its concomitant assurance that He will remain so.

We have a song that has become almost an anthem for this church.  The chorus opens with this reminder.  “All my life You have been faithful.”  Sorry, I have to go back to Africa again.  And I’ll just say, that holds on multiple levels.  But right now, it’s in recollection.  Seems I’m still processing.  But I had this conversation with a young man.  He had asked a bit about my roots, which is one heck of an invitation, isn’t it?  I recall responding, “How far back do you want to go?”  And the invitation was, “as far as you’re comfortable going.”  Okay, then!  So, the mind runs back to the beginning, and various points in the course of life come up.  And many of them, with the distance of time and age, get recited as little more than, “Oh yeh, this thing happened.”  I mean, there are those occasions from my history that I have long recognized as God moving to preserve my foolish life until I should choose to grow up a bit.  But as we were talking, or as I was talked and he listened, there came a point where he just gave this look of amazement, and said, “Man!  God really has had His hand on your life, hasn’t He?”  Or at least, words to that effect.  And honestly, the stuff I had been recollecting had never really hit me with that force before, but now?  The more I reflect, the more I see it is true.  How have I become what I am?  Never mind in the church, which is astonishing enough.  But, how have I had the career I’ve had?  How did I even become an engineer in the first place?  Every step of the way, there has been this aspect of, wonder of wonders!  And I missed it.  How did I miss it?  How is that possible?  Can you not see a setup when you’re in one?  Apparently not.  But, yes, a light went on, and now?  Now those memories keep coming up, and each in turn shows the truth of it.  “All my life, You have been faithful.”

And so, as these come up, I hope at least that there are accompanying flickers of thankfulness in the recollections.  The past does indeed give me cause for joy, for He has been faithful.  Long before I gave Him a thought, He was faithful.  Long before I had dropped my active rebellion against Him, He was faithful.  And so, there comes confidence together with joy.  As the JFB reports, “Joy gives animation to prayers.”  Well, yes.  Because joy isn’t some worked up giddiness, but a rational response to personal history with God.  But on another level, just consider.  How hard is it to pray if you’re so caught up in your trials that you can hardly find it in yourself to hope for tomorrow?  How hard is it to be constant in prayer if all you see is gaping, unanswered need?  It needs something.  It needs looking back across all that God has done, that we might remember His faithfulness so as to come before Him not only desperate, but confident.  Faith is trust, but it’s trust with a firm foundation in experienced trustworthiness.  The prayer of faith, offered, as James says, without wavering doubt (Jas 1:6), comes of knowing God is Who He is, of having full experience of His faithfulness in our past, and thus, joyful expectation of answer going forward.  Now, I have to say, that joyful expectation cannot be legitimately held when our prayers are mere wish list stuff.  If our focus is all on health and wealth and a life of ease, with no thought given to the purposes of God, then honestly, we are not setting ourselves as servants, nor even as children of His household.  We are attempting to take the throne for ourselves, and make Him our servant.  No, but the prayer offered in faith, pursuant to the will of God, as a prayer we can rest assured will have its answer.

Now, here’s an interesting note to be heard in this ode to prayer.  The term Paul uses for prayer, which the NASB translates as supplication, speaks primarily to prayers of intercession.  He is interceding on their behalf, even as our Lord Jesus intercedes on our behalf as He stands in heaven as our High Priest.  And it is in this pursuit that Paul speaks of joy – real joy in that supplication.  That becomes something stunning, doesn’t it?  That becomes something of a challenge.  I mean, have you ever considered that Jesus, our High Priest, as He intercedes on our behalf, does so with joy?  Why wouldn’t He?  He knows with an assurance we can only aspire to that His intercessions will be honored.  He knows how it’s going to turn out.  If Paul has confidence that the good work in those for whom he intercedes will be completed, surely Jesus has far more confidence, and with good cause!  The Wycliffe Translators’ Commentary, observing this intersection of intercession with joy, advises, “Intercession is not a burden to be borne but an exercise of the soul to be performed with joy.”

Boy, I tell you, I’ve known some who account themselves to be intercessors, and would have you know it.  Oh!  They will speak of the cost to themselves of standing in that place of intercession, of battles fought and wounds taken in the spirit, as they stood watch.  Oh!  They will let you know the agonies they face.  And in many cases, they will account any number of maladies faced as being part of the job.  How very different is this view of intercession as an exercise of joy!  “Joy gives animation to prayers.”  It is a joyful thing to be able to come before the Lord on behalf of a brother or sister, and why?  Well, I would offer a twofold answer.  First, as we have been observing, there is that confidence born of knowing God’s faithfulness.  And I would suggest that second, there is the joy of being useful in God’s kingdom.  There is joy in being His chosen means.  It’s not a place of boasting, but a place of thankfulness.  Oh, that thought of boasting may arise, yes, but it must be forced to bow, forced into submission.

Yeh, back to Africa again.  There was that moment.  I had been teaching on the topic of law and gospel, looking at the Beatitudes, and helping the group to see that at least here, in this passage, there is nothing of, “you must,” but solely a litany of, “you are.”  And the light comes on in one young lady, with an audible gasp of realization.  “Oh!”  Indeed, “Oh!”  This is who we are in Christ, not because we’ve been laboring long and hard, but because He has made us so!  And having sat down from that particular training session, Pastor Mathews stood and asked, “How many of you have felt the chains dropping off?”  And the response!  I think at least half the room had their hands up!  And, you want to talk about joy?  Oh, my, God!  You did this through me?  And yes, a bit of pride sought to creep in, but no.  Down with you, flesh.  No.  These sessions had already and repeatedly proven to be occasions of me teaching far and away beyond my natural capacity.  It had helped, certainly, to be awake and praying in the night, that God would take hold and drive these sessions as He saw fit.  And that He had answered was too plainly evident to me.  I don’t operate this way!  And yet, here I was, operating this way.  And just look what the Lord did!  Yes.  Pride had to run from the room, tail between its legs.  No place for it.  Just the wonder of being useful.  How often have I contemplated wanting to be Onesimus, useful?  And here it was.  How often have I sought to be an instrument in the hands of my masterful Lord, well-tuned and crafted, such that His melody can play without unwanted effort, without a sour note?  And here it was.

So, can intercession be performed with joy?  It can if it’s done in the power of God.  It can if it’s done by His direction, His driving.  If it is not a joy, I would have to suggest that in fact, it’s not God’s doing, and maybe that had better be addressed first, before continuing with the task.  And that advice holds whatever it may be that you’re doing in matters of the kingdom.  For all that, it holds whatever you may be doing period.  Let it be done with joy.  Let it be done in the power of God.  Dishes?  Sure, why not?  Work?  As I say, it’s harder to remind mindful of the reality of God’s presence when deep in the weeds of debug, but yes.  He is there alongside, more than willing to help, and surely able.  It just needs remembering His faithfulness.  Now, I have to tell you, such application of prayer still hits me as a bit self-serving, a bit too much focused on personal ease, and not enough on kingdom purpose.  But if God is pleased to answer, shall I then refuse to be pleased to ask?  Where, then, is thankfulness for this richest of gifts?

Lord, may it be that I indeed find joy animating my prayers, for You are assuredly cause for great and abiding joy.  May it be that, whether in times of corporate prayer, or when asked to pray for deep places of need in my brethren, I don’t account it a thing I need to work up, or a case for carefully crafted and considered words, but rather, let it be that joy arises, knowing Your faithfulness, knowing Your goodness, knowing Your attentiveness to our cries, and Your tender care for our hearts.  And yes, let this recent trend of awareness and feeling the urge to pray for these dear brothers and sisters that come to mind continue and grow.  I know I often think I don’t have time, but I have You, and You have time in Your hands.  If time is needed, You will provide it, even as You have with these times of study.  So, I set myself before You.  I am Your servant.  As You would have me intercede, so let it be done, and may I find it the joyful honor it is to do so.  May there be in me that powerful constancy of mindfulness that I wrote of in my early notes.  Too often it is lacking, and even when it comes, it is but briefly.  Let this seed grow.  Let maturity continue.  Let Your will be done.  Amen.

Fellowship (12/09/24-12/10/24)

In verse 5, Paul speaks of their participation in the gospel as the basis for his joyful prayers of thanksgiving in regard to them.  From the first time he spoke to those women gathered for prayer by the riverside, they had received this gospel, the Holy Spirit doing His work among them, and they, in their turn, gladly attending to the work of the gospel themselves.  The word in view with this participation is koinonia, a term we quite rightly associate with fellowship.  But there is some debate about the intent here, as the term is also used for matters of contribution.  But I must make an observation in regard to that usage.  From what I see, it is only used thus of that contribution collected among the various Gentile churches for the support of their brethren in the church in Jerusalem.  And in that instance, the contribution was meant not only to provide material aid to that church, but also to give clear evidence of the fellowship of Gentile and Jew in the church of Jesus Christ.  It was a testimony to the bonds of fellowship felt by the Gentiles, a purposeful affirmation of oneness; this, far more than the financial aspect.

So, while there are those that suggest Paul’s mention of their participation is recognition of their repeated giving in support of his ministry, I think that here, too, we must recognize that any thought of material support must fade back to a secondary, even tertiary place, as the fellowship of unity and mutual affection comes to the fore.  If that contribution is in view at all, as the Wycliffe Translators’ Commentary observes, it is only as a symbol of that deeper sharing, that deeper connection in desiring to see the Gospel spread.  Why else, after all, had the Philippians sent to support Paul?  In human terms, he had already moved on, and given the treatment he had at the hands of the officials there, there was little reason to expect that he might come back again.  Yet, they gave.  And they gave almost instantly.  How long could it have been before they had sent support to Paul in Thessalonica?  If there were multiple such occasions, it could not have been but a month or so since he had left and they were already sending support for the man in his mission.  Why?  Had he asked for their support?  Not that we can see.  Had they reason to suppose he couldn’t support himself?  Far from it.  Any report coming back would have to note his labors at his trade as well as his labors in ministering.  They gave for one reason and one reason only:  The joy of the gospel led them to do so at the prompting of the Holy Spirit.  End of story.  Why did Paul minister as he did?  The joy of the gospel, as he says, compelled him to proclaim this joyous good news to the Gentiles, as Christ Himself had commissioned him to do, as the Holy Spirit empowered him to do.

There is your sharing.  There is your communion of faith, hope, and love.  There is the depth of joyous faith expressed in seeking to see this good news shared widely, increasing fellowship, increasing the reach of the kingdom of God.  Did they seek to relieve him of the need to labor at tent-making to support himself?  Perhaps.  But in fairness, I am thinking that aspect of the deal was probably of little notice for them.  No.  It was simply the desire to see the kingdom proclaimed, Christ made known, more from every nation brought into this fellowship of Christian faith. 

Why do we support this or that missionary?  Is it because we have doubts that they could support themselves?  To what degree do we even give thought to mundane matters of food and shelter in our giving?  The thought may not be absent entirely, but it seems to me it is never at the forefront of our thoughts.  Do we give so that they can get their kids into schools?  Now, I think yet again of this trip to Africa, and our work amongst those to whom we ministered?  And yes, there were occasions to meet the material needs of those we were teaching.  These are not, after all, wealthy nations, nor wealthy people.  They have needs, and as John reminds us, if we see our brother’s need, having it in our power to help, and yet, close our heart against him, how does the love of God abide in us (1Jn 3:17-18)?  And he continues.  “Let us not love with word or tongue, but in deed and truth.”  Why?  I mean, all around us we see the impact of such giving of material support, and the result is not always good.  It often leads to a certain dependency, or expectancy, that visiting ministries mean gifts, and those we would reach for the gospel become instead beggars.  There is a danger, certainly, that they shall prove to be like those whom Jesus rebuked.  “You only came here for the bread.”  I fail to find the reference this morning, but it is there.  The crowds came, full of excitement, but it wasn’t for the Word, it was for the free meal.

So, why do we do these things?  Why give to help this one get to school, or to help that one with a roof, or what have you?  In some fashion, at least I hope this is our focus, it is in order that these things should not become a distraction from the work of ministry, or a discouragement from faith in God.  Who knows but that He has set us there specifically for the purpose of being His means of provision in these instances?  And yes, the means are in hand, and yes, the need is evident.  I confess a high degree of conflicted conscience in this regard, as we are, in our case, specifically there to equip leaders and pastors to provide their churches with clear instruction from the truth of God.  There are so many voices seeking to gain a following among them, seeking to make a living at their expense, and our goal is to equip, to train, to establish these faithful believers on the firm foundation of God’s truth as declared in God’s Word.  Yes, there are needs.  My goodness!  In Malawi, many of those coming for training have not eaten in days, for the drought in that place has been severe.  Likewise Zambia, although in somewhat different ways.  But then, we must find ourselves wondering.  How many came for the meal, for handouts, rather than for the gospel?  Am I too cynical?  I hope so, if only because I would far prefer it that those who came did so for the gospel.  But questions arise.  And they only grow worse when we have asked after needs and been handed a shopping list in response, and one sees palpable disappointment that the particulars of that list have not been met in full.  Hey.  We’re not your dealer come with another hit.  We’re your equippers, that you may be faithful in your ministry.

And yet.  And yet, there is such need.  There are needs such as would crush any of us.  How can you not be impacted when you see children laboring and playing amongst the trash piles at the dump?  How can you not be moved to help when you see that even the necessities of fuel to pursue one’s employments are being rendered unobtainable?  How can you not care, when you observe that the nature of the banking system, and its unwillingness to give loans to those in need, or the incredible mismanagement of funds by the government giving rise to out of control inflation, have led to the necessity of a second economy, if you will?  And yes, I think we should have to accept that it is a necessity.  Oh, we can decry the criminality of it, but far more than those soft on crime, blame society sorts here at home, this really is necessity.  Survival depends on these alternate means.  Would that it did not, but there it is.  These are not people condemned by their own laziness, but people for whom no amount of industry on their part can in fact move them into a place of reasonable prosperity.  If there’s no work, what is one to do?  If there’s no gas, what can your earnings buy you, and how will you go get those things?

So, fellowship, this shared faith, hope, and love, compels a certain degree of giving support because we can.  It compels a certain compassion for those who are dealing with hardships we can barely grasp as real and yet, remaining true to their calling.  And it compels a great deal of mercy and grace towards those who have come, though their travels have exhausted them, and perhaps the unfamiliar volume of food, as well as the heat and the sitting and those of us who speak more quietly than they are used to may all combine to produce an unwanted drowsiness.  Hard to complain when we ourselves are finding it hard to remain awake in our seats.  Such are the trials of travel, I’m afraid.

But in all, there is this desire that the gospel might be further established and further spread.  There is the recognition that while there is indeed a fervor for evangelism, the needs of true discipleship have not been met as well as they should be.  How, after all, can they disciple who have not been discipled?  As one of our friends over there observed, evangelism has been widespread, but it has also been shallow.  And this propensity to welcome any Westerner who comes as an expert in Christianity, to be heard and obeyed in all things is no help whatsoever.  Too many stand ready to take advantage of that mindset, and even where it may work to our advantage to be thus received, it must be combatted.  No!  But take these tools we are giving you; read this Bible we are placing in your hands; seek the truth that is in there and see for yourselves!  Then indeed we shall have true fellowship, fellowship with one another and fellowship with Father, Son, and Spirit alike!

I feel echoes of Ironside’s observation.  He calls us to see how fellowship and gospel go together.  Further, he notes that a body of believers actively pursuing opportunities to present the gospel will know far more of true fellowship than a group focused more on personal blessings.  Don’t you know it!  That fellowship focused on personal blessings comes to have a very circumstantial faith.  If we are being blessed, we believe.  If the blessings don’t meet our expectations, we walk away.  We have seen that, as well; those whose faith seemed so evident but a year ago, but who have left the church because hey, you didn’t give me the money I expected you would.  I came to you for support, and you did not provide.  But, oh!  When our fellowship is in pursuit of the Gospel, and seeing the Gospel move forward!  When our hearts thrum to the same joyous good news of a faithful God Who loves us!  When we have put our hands to the work of tending God’s fields, and we observe the fruitful harvest!  What joy we share.  How deep our faith becomes.  How much greater a volume of past experience we now have to undergird our joy, and our certain hope for that which remains ahead.

I come back to this aspect of koinonia, of fellowship:  It involves active participation.  Let me stress that:  active participation.  This fellowship cannot be found in passively occupying our place in the pews as the sermon washes over us, and then hopping back in the car and driving off, to have nothing further to do with things until same time next week.  We’re talking about shared life, shared experience.  I observe that I was taking notice of this last time I came through these verses, but I must observe now that there has been a shift of sorts.  I am still not so active in the life of the church as I should like to be.  I can offer my excuses, but they are of little enough value.  Yet, there has been a deepening.  Certainly, amongst my brothers and sister who engaged in this Word ministry outreach, there has been a deepening of relationship, a sharing of trials and victories, a wealth of mutual experiences and recollections developed.  Then, too, I see bonds deepening amongst us on the worship team, though our personnel shift by the week.  There is a growing openness to share beyond the surface chatter of social norms.  Perhaps these fellowship groups that Pastor and the Elders have begun to establish are in fact having an impact.  I would have to say I have as yet a rather mixed reaction to them.  Yes, it’s good to get to know others, and to be known by them.  But then, sometimes, in knowing others, we discover they have something of a one-note experience, which can get old pretty fast.  And that, at least for me, must lead to wondering to what degree I come across in the same fashion.  But then, there is growing awareness, both of the needs of my brothers and sisters, and of my own needs.  And high amongst those needs is the need for this very thing, this depth of fellowship and community.

I have gone a long time thinking I had no particular need of such things.  I can be pretty isolationist, pretty self-contained.  My entertainments tend to be things pursued alone, whether of necessity or by choice makes little difference.  But here, too, something broke a bit while I was off overseas.  Yes, I like my me time, but there is this longing, this need to be part of something together, to share talk, to share experience, to share.  Just leave it there.  So, it’s rather something for me to come back and find this note from my first pass observations.  “Faith does not thrive in isolation.”  And sadly, in isolation, it seems we fail to notice the issue.  We feel strong in our faith, but truth is that no, we are growing weaker.  But perhaps because we have nothing against which to compare it, it still feels strong.  We’re still convinced we’re doing fine.  God is with us, after all.  We’re not really alone.  And that’s true enough, and yes, God will maintain our faith, even when we foolishly withdraw to our prison cell of self.  But as I observed then, so I find now:  This is not the design.  We are designed for fellowship.  Koinonia is baked into us from the outset.  By design!  God intends us to know this need, and to find its fulfillment in the brotherhood of the church.  We can chafe at the necessity of it.  We can try and convince ourselves that it ain’t necessarily so.  We can make loud protestations that me and my Bible, we’re enough.  But then, if we consult our Bible, surely we cannot miss those body references.  The toe can’t tell the hand it has no need of it.  The lungs can’t survive without the services of the ribcage.  We need one another!  Yes, we need God first and foremost.  But it’s His design, His intent, that in needing Him, we need each other.  Best for our health and well-being in the things that matter that we should acknowledge that reality, and avail ourselves of the rich supply of fellowship that He has arranged on our behalf!

I like this, as well, from Ironside:  In fellowship we all pull together, bearing our own part.  There is sharing not just of the highs, but of the lowest lows.  We are called upon to mourn with those who mourn, and it strikes me more and more as a singular privilege that those who mourn are able to trust themselves to us in their mourning.  There has been much of that of late.  I think of my brother and his son, who had seemed to be gaining victory over cancer, but now appears likely to succumb.  I can only imagine that father’s anguish, but I can mourn alongside him.  I can add my prayers to his own, hoping that God might see clear to delivering that young man’s soul and even, perhaps, grant him a new lease on life in the here and now.  I could add now my own step-son, dealing with pneumonia atop his seizures.  He has lived longer, already, than most might have expected, and who’s to say whether he may live a good while yet?  But his father is aging fast.  His sister has given much of her own life and potential to supporting her brother.  And his mother, my wife, has had her years of caring for him, and knows her hurt at seeing him in this state.  What shall happen?  God knows.  I certainly do not.  What ought we to be praying on his behalf?  God’s will, clearly.  But what exactly that might entail in this instance?  It’s hard to see past parental care to perceive what might be called for.  But God is in control, and I am not inclined to second guess Him.

But, there, too, is a call to fellowship.  I have to say it is a most uncomfortable place for me, personally, to have to deal with this ex-husband.  But he is, as best one can assess, a brother in Christ for all that the past may hold, and he has cared well for his son.  And he is hurting, concerned, knowing his own desires may not entirely accord with God’s plans in this case, and seeking to set himself to accept God’s answers, whatever they may be.  He, too, is one to come alongside, and so we do, as best we may.  And another matter for prayer is added.  So many.  And how did Paul, with all these churches to pray for, ever find time?  Granted, at this juncture he’s in prison, and as such doesn’t have all that much to occupy his days, I suppose.  Yet, he is ministering there.  And he is presumably expending some amount of time preparing his defense before Nero.  Perhaps not, though.

Still, consider the extent of this.  “Always offering prayer with joy in my every prayer, for each and every one of you.”  This all, as many observe, maintains the individual attention, even as it encompasses the whole.  He had, even in so brief a time as he had with them, come to know each one personally.  He knew their names.  He knew their life situations.  He knew their spouses, their children, their trials and strengths.  And he prayed.  I don’t imagine he had, as some do, a list in his pocket to consult.  I am quite sure he didn’t have a day-planner with scheduled times to pray for members of this church, or that one.  Yet, the catalog was there in his head, each individual coming before his mind’s eye as he prayed, and each attended with individualized prayers addressing individual needs and concerns.  It’s rather amazing.  It’s rather challenging, isn’t it?

I think of those I met overseas, most of whom I could not even give name to.  There are a few, primarily the hosting bishops.  There is little Delight, whom I met on the previous trip, but did not see this time, or if I did, she had already grown and changed enough to become unrecognizable.  But there are those like Bishop’s son, Miah, a solid young man, skilled both in serving as interpreter, and also in reading the room, to know when a more colloquial explanation was called for.  And he has hopes for the future, a desire to gain some theological training. There’s Samuel, who served a similar, translator’s role for us in Zambia.  I have heard from him but once since returning.  I know he has his mission to provide information and support for issues of breast cancer and the like.  I know he has a son he desires to see through university, though he may not know how he can pay for such a thing.  But so many others!  Some, I would recognize by sight going back, though I did not succeed in establishing memory of their names, if I even thought to ask.  Yet, I can pray.  And I should pray.  But there’s three hundred plus souls already.  For each and every one?  How did you do it, Paul?  How am I to do it?  I have enough difficulty managing even some small subset of our own body.  Shoot, I probably don’t know half the people here by name.  I know those I know, and that’s about it.

I do feel this call to expand, to draw closer, to establish connections that go beyond hi, how’re you doing?  How about this weather, eh?  But I also wonder, perhaps in selfish desire to feel better about myself, whether perhaps a smaller circle, more tightly connected is more reasonable, more sensible.  It may be that each of us is part of a number of intersecting circles, such that the whole church is in fact knit together, but more like chain link, perhaps, than satin sheets.  But I am mindful of this, when it comes to this ‘all.’  As the JFB expresses it, this ‘all’ recognizes no division, loves all alike, and loves always with exuberance of love.  Can that be done with this idea of small, interconnecting circles?  I don’t know.  Seems to me it must be possible, for honestly, who can maintain such a catalog of cares?  Maybe there are some who are able, but I would guess not with any depth.  Or maybe I’m simply deficient in that area.  I don’t know.

What I do know is that things have been shifting of late.  Connections have been developing, even surprising me with the speed of their development.  Things that would have passed by with minimal notice before are registering, lodging in thought, calling forth prayers.  I am coming to appreciate some of my brothers and sisters far more, after interacting with them more.  And I am coming to realize, as well, just how hungry I have been for my own part, to have this fellowship, this shared experience of God’s goodness.  It’s not something I am getting at home, not because of unequal yoking, per se, but because the journeys God has set us on, Jan and me, are very different.  There is not a great deal of experience that we share together, even though we are with each other pretty much all the time.  I cannot readily express to her the things I experienced in Africa, in part because she was busy experiencing her own developments here at home.  And I cannot really partake of those experiences either.  They are two separate lives.  I don’t know why God has seen fit to develop us so.  Heck, I’ve never quite understood how He brought us together in the first place.  But here we are, and I do know our love for one another is very real, and I do know our faith in God is real, even though it looks so very different in the two of us.  So be it.  But it does leave that hunger for mutual fellowship, shared ministry experiences, shared pursuit of the goodness of God.  And I thank God for those places where He is supplying that fellowship.  I shall add as well a prayer for my beloved wife, that she, too, might be restored to true fellowship.  Yes, she has her online acquaintances, and that’s all well and good.  But fellowship, at least in my book, implies locality.  Fellowship needs that immediacy of shared life.  It is, perhaps, this fellowship of shared life which produces maturity in us.  Isn’t that rather what Paul intimates in his corrective to Corinth?  All things for edification.  We are not in competition, we are in mutual need.  And in that need, we share and share alike, because in that need, we have fellowship with the Triune God of heaven and earth.  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are alike in fellowship with us.  God has called us into this fellowship, adopted us into His family, knit us together as one – one with each other, and one with Himself.

This is beautiful, is it not?  What God is producing in each one of us is beautiful, but that beauty cannot come to pass without maturity.  The flowering tree is beautiful, to be sure, but those flowers are only at their best when they produce the fruit of the tree, whether seed or berry or apple ripe for plucking.  Apart from this, life has not been achieved, only passing fancy.  Maturity has not come about, only the flush of youth.  But as beautiful as youth may be, true beauty comes later, true beauty comes of maturity, of laying hold of the truth of God, and allowing it to lay hold of us.

Okay, I’m feeling a bit too much like a Hallmark card, here.  I think I’ll leave off.  But the reality of this fellowship continues to roll over me like waves.  The newness of it hasn’t worn off, and I pray it doesn’t.  Something is growing, and it is good.  May I be steadfast in maintaining this new ground that God has won in me.  May I grow in this new growth, bearing fruit for His kingdom, fresh evidence of His workmanship in me.

Assurance (12/10/24-12/11/24)

Coming to verse 6, it would be hard to miss the confident assurance Paul expresses.  Impossible, really.  And it does lead to questions, doesn’t it?  Many of us have more than enough difficulty finding cause for confidence as to our own salvation.  We see the sins of the day.  We see those persistent failures that seem to have been with us forever and a day, and we wonder how that’s ever going to change.  We see that the fruit of the Spirit is not so evident in our lives as we would have it, that we are yet too much with the world.  And something in us, no matter how often we encounter opposing Truth, still remains convinced we have to earn our way into God’s grace.  I think of that Andy Pratt song.  “Was it for life, or just how long my nose stays clean?”  As Pastor was saying Sunday, the Gospel is almost too good to believe.  And yet, it’s true!

But now, Paul is expressing confidence as to another’s salvation, actually a whole church full of others.  We’re still in ‘you all, each and every one, individually and collectively,’ territory.  How could he be so sure?  I mean, he’s only had limited contact with these folks since those first days of preaching.  Yes, he has Epaphroditus with him, but what is one man’s testimony worth?  How reliable a reader of character is he?  Who knows?  And our own experience is, I’m sure, replete with examples of those about whom we were quite confident that here is a man of God, a woman of God, and yet, something happened.  There was a falling away, and so far as eye can see, it was permanent.  What happened?  Did the blood of Christ fail?  May it never be!  But they were so all in!  They were such a force for God, and now?  Now it seems they’ve tossed that all aside for some momentary pleasure.  What are we to make of it?

Well, I could ask what the other Apostles were to make of Judas.  Had he not been with them, colaboring with them and with the Lord Jesus Himself?  Had he not heard the same teachings they had, seen the same miracles they had, confessed the same confession they had?  And yet, here he was, betraying the very Son of God.  How could this be?  Well, by and large, I would take John’s view.  “They went out from us because they were never truly of us” (1Jn 2:19).  Of course, we cannot be any more certain of their final state of soul than of anybody else’s.  We have those we are quite confident died firm in the faith, awaiting welcome into our Savior’s arms.  But in truth, we don’t know.  We cannot know, at least not until we have joined them in eternity.

What we do know is this:  Things fail.  We might go so far as to say nothing is certain, at least nothing in this life on the physical plane.  Mountains may fall (Eze 38:20).  Heck, we’ve had example of that locally, back when the Old Man of the Mountain slid down and became the new rubble in the valley.  Who would have thought it?  This huge, natural, granite edifice that had been around as long as memory, and then, one day, of an instant, it’s gone.

Things of man?  Find the Twin Towers today.  Or find some of those ancient ruins the Taliban destroyed in their fury.  Find what remains of Pompei, or of ancient Aztec civilization, such as it was.  Find any evidence of great men.  At best, most are marred bits of stone, becoming illegible after ages of rain and wind have erased what was carved in their memory, or bits of paper which must, in due course, decompose and become dirt.  How long is a man remembered?  Some, to be sure, establish lasting reputations, though it cannot be said that they establish lasting memories.  Great edifices may be built to honor their names, and their names may persist, but the nature of the man?  His thoughts and feelings?  His loves and longings?  Not so much.  Empires are of no permanence.  Political parties, though they may persist for decades or even centuries will all, in the end fade from the scene.

And as for these bodies in which we traipse the earth, they begin to fail almost from the day they are born.  Aging happens, and in spite of the vast wealth thrown at trying to counter that basic fact of physiology, the fact remains stubbornly factual.  Everything about this present life will fail in due time.  Nothing escapes that sentence.  But this is no call to nihilistic futility, nor is it cause for such hopelessness.  Rather, it ought rightly to direct us towards what does last.  The body may fail, but the spirit remains.  It remains not as some ghost to haunt the living.  It does not wander aimlessly, unclear what to do in the absence of a body.  No!  “This day you will be with Me in Paradise” (Lk 23:43).  Today.  At the moment of death, this life begins.  The question is not whether you shall enter into eternity.  The question is whether you shall do so in the presence of God or forever removed from His presence, kept quite apart from Him to know the soul’s true anguish.

All of this to say that whatever Paul’s confidence, it is not founded upon any foundation of human achievement.  It certainly wasn’t built upon so frail a foundation as monetary contributions.  Nor, was it on so flimsy a base as reputation.  Look around.  The church in Philippi is gone.  Philippi itself is gone.  The Roman Empire of which they were such proud citizens is long gone.  Even the palest echoes of its reign have long since faded from experience.  The same will be true for the European Union, for the various powers in the Middle East, for China, for America.  These things fail.  Inevitably.  We hear many today bewailing the nearing death of America as we knew it, and who knows?  They may very well be right.  But God appoints the seasons.  God rises up the leaders, whatever you may think of them.  And He brings them back down as well.  Here is your permanence.  Here is your only permanence.  The local church may fail.  The locality may cease to be.  The nation within whose borders that locality once existed may itself exist no more.  But God remains.  And as God remains, the promise of God remains.  So it is that we can sing along with Job, and do so in full confidence.  “Though my skin be destroyed, yet from my flesh I shall see God” (Job 19:26-27).  “I myself shall behold Him.  My eyes shall see Him, not some other see for me.  My heart faints within me.”  It is too wonderful!  It’s too amazing.  It’s so thoroughly undeserved, and well does my soul know it.  And yet, there it is!  I shall see God.  He has called me by name, declared me His own, and will He not see to it that it is so?

If this has not yet settled into your bones, see to it that it does.  If our perseverance is on us to achieve, we are by no means assured of heaven.  Indeed, if that’s the case, we can be quite certain that we shall not see heaven.  Let me quote Barnes here.  “For nothing that a man does today can lay the foundation of a certain conviction that he will do the same thing tomorrow.”  Nothing that man does today can last.  We don’t have what it takes to face eternity.  There’s a reason these bodies have to be replaced before we go home.  “This perishable must put on the imperishable. This mortal must put on immortality” (1Co 15:53).  These bodies simply are not fit for the occasion.  They can’t handle a hundred years.  How can we expect them to hold up for eternity?  The time comes, and it comes according to God’s schedule, not ours.  These bodies shall be laid down.  But the soul, the spirit remains.  And for the believer, there is this promise, signed and sealed by God.  “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”  How does that work?  I don’t know.  Why this two-stage process where today the spirit joins Him, but the body must await His return to earth?  I don’t know.  But I know this:  God is certain, and because He is certain, and perseverance the outworking of His certain purpose of salvation in us, we can be certain.

There is, of course, an obverse to this coin.  Either God is doing the work in us, or the work is no more than vanity and wind.  You know Solomon’s Psalm.  “Unless the LORD builds the house, they labor in vain who build it.  Unless the LORD guards the city, the watchman keeps awake in vain” (Ps 127:1).  Well, unless the LORD sanctifies, he labors in vain who seeks to walk holy.  That is not to say that we are to be passive recipients of a process that really doesn’t involve us much at all.  It’s not like undergoing an MRI, where your whole role in the deal is to lie down and be still.  No!  It is an action undertaken together with God, but it is undertaken with the understanding that God is in the driver’s seat, directing, willing, working, and we are actively coming alongside our God in this work.  We, together, are pursuing the matter of sanctification, of fellowship in the Gospel, of the good work of grace that is ongoing in our lives from the moment we were first saved (honestly, from well before that moment), to the day we stand before Him in completion.

Face it.  We had no say in our birth, and we must recognize that even in the process of physical maturation, we have but limited input.  This body is going to grow to fulness, barring accident or surgery, whether we intentionally seek to grow up or not.  We may have some impact on the quality of that growth, perhaps to some degree the extent, but growth happens.  So, too, the mind and character.  Maturation will occur.  We may stunt it, delay it, twist its development.  But it happens nonetheless.  One hopes that we undertake to participate in a positive fashion, that we take an active interest in our own development, and seek after an adulthood that will honor our forebears and our Lord.  And that last brings us back to this work of sanctification, which is effectively the maturation of the spirit reborn.  Rebirth, like birth, happened quite apart from our input.  Sanctification proceeds oftentimes quite in spite of us.  As this letter goes on to say, it is God who is at work in us, both to will and to work (Php 2:13).  He oftentimes has to force the issue a bit as we stagnate, or become too caught up in memories of past enjoyments, or the enticements of potential future indulgences.  But observe!  That favorite verse of mine is preceded quite immediately with a call to sanctify yourselves, to give it your all, to work out your own salvation; doing so in the keen awareness of God’s being at work in you.

I have no doubt said it before, but it comes to this:  We cannot do the work of sanctification apart from God, and He will not apart from us.  We cannot be passive and uninvolved.  We are called to active, purposeful pursuit of our greatest good, even knowing that however much we progress, it remains God’s doing.  But that same knowledge grants us confidence of the same firmness as Paul expresses here.  This good work of sanctification, this good work of grace, which ‘fits us for the enjoyment of God,’ as Matthew Henry writes, has begun.  That is clear to us.  And where such a work has begun, it has most assuredly been God’s doing.  We are incapable, let alone disinclined, to begin the work ourselves.  Get this settled.  There is no such thing as a seeker.  The seeker-friendly church is playing to a non-existent contingent.  No, the only way we come to seek is that God has already begun the work, already sought and found us, indeed, already saved us, though we may not know or recognize that yet.

Much is said to the point that the lost are not going to come find your church to hear the Word of God.  But I would have to disagree.  Those lost who have been found are now moved by the Spirit of the Living God, even as we.  And God has been pleased to establish that His gospel will spread by the foolishness of the Gospel preached, and He has determined that the primary venue for this to transpire is the Church which He established, against which the forces of Hell shall not, cannot prevail.  Does that make our efforts to evangelize vain or counterproductive?  No.  But I might find cause to wonder about our programs of evangelization.  There are those called to that function in the body in such fashion as to go out into the highways and byways with the Word of God.  There may well be those called to minister on the street corner, though I have found little enough evidence that such proceedings are particularly fruitful.  But the evangelism of friend to friend?  Of coworker to coworker?  Here, it may be assumed, we have won the right to speak into another’s life with expectation of being heard.  They know us.  They can testify to our character.  If they have known us for a long time, it is to be hoped that they can testify to the change that is evident in us.  And there, being ready to offer reason for the hope that is within us is powerful indeed.  But accosting random strangers with your testimony?  Perhaps.  I suppose that falls within the scope of, “that by all means I might save some” (1Co 9:22).  I just bristle somewhat at this insistent demand that we should all be going out as avid, rabid evangelists.  What we should all be doing is pursuing the course God has set for us, and that course may be very individualized.  If I am not a toe, to borrow Paul’s example, no use urging me to get out there and pick up a shovel.  It all comes back to the same point. If God is not in the work, the work is vanity and wind.  If I am not in the work which God has designed me to do, then I must be found resisting the work of grace in me.

But God is both patient and omnipotent.  If it is His work of grace, however I may resist it in my foolishness, that work will come to pass.  If it has begun, it has been God’s doing.  If it has begun, being as it is God doing it, it shall be completed, for He does not leave His work unfinished.  He does not abandon His projects, losing interest, or so overcome by frustration that He decides to toss it and go do something else.

Observe carefully where Paul places his confidence.  It’s not in their past acts of obedience giving some assurance of future obedience.  To borrow the financial advisor’s phrase, “Past performance is no assurance of future results.”  Never was that more true than in the deeds of men.  But God!  God is faithful.  God is constant.  There is no shadow of turning in Him (Jas 1:17), only the perfect and complete exercise of His will.  “I am confident of this:  God who began is God who will perfect.”  There is no other place for such confidence, not in regard to those to whom we minister, not in regard to ourselves.  This confidence, this blessed assurance, rests upon God alone, knowing with like certainty to Paul, that the work begins in God and He will finish it.

It is this confidence, this certain hope in regard to the future before us, which gives strength to our prayers, and supplies fuel to our thanksgivings.  Who can pray with fervency except they believe the outcome is not merely a vague possibility, but a certainty?  This can be a challenge when praying for those suffering from some chronic or deadly disease.  I think of my stepson and his seizures.  I think of our brother’s son, facing a dire prognosis as cancer overwhelms his young body.  How I would love to be able to pray with full, confident expectation that God’s going to intervene in these lives and work some miraculous cure.  Would I rejoice to see Danny free of the struggles he has known his entire life?  Absolutely, I would.  But do I count it likely at all?  No.  Can I accept that for him, that cure may come in the grave?  I find that entirely likely, and I find it no less evidence of God’s grace.  Perhaps it’s easier for me, being one step removed, as it were.  But it seems to me that his mom has agonized herself no end because some random person ‘prophesied’ so long ago that he would be healed.  Easy words to say, and even accurate, so long as we understand that this healing may come in physical death.  We shall all be healed who are held by God.  That new body will come in due course, and the soul is already being made well.  Is it not thus that Paul begins to draw our eyes upward, to look beyond the limits of this earthly life and perceive the day of our Lord Jesus Christ?

Look, we can have confidence in prayer, and we should have confidence in prayer.  As James observes, (and I think I’ve mentioned this already,) the one who doubts, being double-minded and unstable in all his ways, has no reason to expect anything from the Lord (Jas 1:6-8).  But that’s not some call to work up confidence in ourselves.  There are plenty of confident fools out there, fully convinced of their mistaken convictions, and living accordingly.  It doesn’t make them right.  It doesn’t change the truth of reality.  Confidence, in and of itself, is as likely to mislead as to produce anything of value.  So, as you consider James, heed John.  “This is the confidence we have before God:  If we ask anything according to His will, He hears us, and because He hears us, we know that we have those requests we have asked of Him” (1Jn 5:14-15).  The prayer that has no regard for His will cannot be asked with any meaningful confidence, because we’re just tossing out ideas, pushing our own fantasies.  It may be that they accidentally align with God’s will.  It may be that we’re just spewing our Christmas wishlist.  God, I’d really like this toy.  And God, looking at our desire, recognizes that this toy would be to our great detriment, perhaps causing us years of distracted lack of growth, or perhaps it’s simply that we are not as yet ready for such things.  And He answers.  But the answer is, “No.”  And we, in our willfulness, refuse the answer because it does not accord with our wishes.  But prayer is never truly about our wishes.  It’s about our coming into line with His wishes, seeking what He wills.

My wife has taken to this keen interest in God’s perfect will, almost paralyzed by it, unwilling to pray her own thoughts or even her own words.  That, I think, is a bit over the top.  It kind of reminds me of that Internet acquaintance I knew years ago, with his win-win institute.  Oh, it sounds so lovely, but it also leads to such a waffling, wandering ride through life as must drive most people around you utterly bonkers.  That, I think, just brings us right back to James, with his being tossed to and fro, and his assurance that in such a state, you have no reason to expect anything.

But confidence!  Confidence rooted in clear perception of the will of God!  That lends itself to prayers that avail much.  Oh, you will say, but how can you be confident?  How can you claim such a clear perception of God’s will?  I might suggest that it is by devoting oneself to the careful study of this book He has given us, by considering the wisdom of those who have come before me, not taking it as writ, or as being on equal footing with Scripture, but willing to partake of the wisdom of those who have known the test of time.  There is value in reading even those whose perspectives don’t really align particularly well with our own, because it requires us to think through what we think we believe, to weigh the evidence, to seek more clearly after a right understanding of what God is saying in these pages.  And yes, it requires prayers for wisdom, which prayers we have, by His word, reason to believe are in accord with His will, for He has called us to pray for wisdom, hasn’t he?  James offers us that point as well.  “If you lack wisdom, ask of God, who gives to all men generously and without reproach.  It will be given to him” (Jas 1:5).

If you see the seed of the Gospel taking root in a life, pray that He will water it.  If you see evidence of growth, pray that He will mature it.  If you observe the fruit of the Spirit, pray that He will guard it, tend it, prune it, prosper it, confident that here, He has begun a good work, and therefore confident that He will complete it.  Here again, we have abundant cause for confidence, because our confidence rests not in the one observed, but in God Who begins the work, does the work, and assuredly completes the work.  But ever and always, leave the shaping of that answer to Him.  Far be it from us to instruct God on how He should pursue His ends.  Much more to our benefit that we should ask of God how we should pursue His ends.  Ask and it will be given, not timetables and schedules, but steps to be taken.  We’re working on this today.  Talk to that one today.  Pray for so and so.  Do what you know is right, and walk worthy.  Honestly, to walk worthy ought not to require constant asking of direction if we have been growing in Him.  Yes, there come those points where we are unsure of the right thing to do, and there, prayer is assuredly wise.  But to beset ourselves with second-guessing when there is no moral dilemma?  To shut down when the path forward is already obvious, thinking, no, I’d better check and make sure what I know is right is still right in this specific instance?  No.  We are being grown up, so grow up.

“When I was a child, I spoke as a child, thought as a child, reasoned like a child.  But when I became a man, I did away with childish things” (1Co 13:11).  Paul writes that, of course, in regard to the use of spiritual gifts, and to the particularly competitive and misguided practices of their use in the church of Corinth.  But prayer is also a spiritual gift, isn’t it?  Sanctification is a spiritual gift.  And we are just as capable of misusing those gifts as any other.  And the same corrective, the same call to grow up applies.  So let us grow up.  Let us accept the maturity that God has thus far produced in us, even as we hunger for greater growth.  But in that growth, let us recognize that a good part of growth is knowing the right thing to do and doing it.  Is this not, at least in part, how we make our very lives a prayer to Him?  Is this not of a piece with being living sacrifices, holy and acceptable to God?  Is this not our spiritual service of worship, that we walk humbly with our God, loving kindness and doing justice (Ro 12:1, Mic 6:8)?  Well, then, let’s get on with it!

Resurrection (12/12/24)

What an interesting time to be contemplating matters of the resurrection.  And honestly, the only note of it we have here is as the endpoint, the goal of the day of Christ Jesus, that day in which we will find ourselves finally perfected.  But apart from that assured hope, what cause have we, really, for joy, for thanksgiving, for faith at all?  Now, as it happens, I come to these notes with my stepson in the hospital, his mother quite ready, or as ready as one can be, to let him go to be with the Lord, and his father still holding to any hope of his remaining alive, even with all his physical challenges.  So, yes, there are issues of physical death in the air, as it were, and the challenges of dealing with those who are facing that reality.  It’s hard.  It’s hard on everybody involved.  I could claim a bit of separation from the event, but I’m not sure that would be accurate. I am, perhaps, a bit more detached, but also trying to cope with the emotions of my wife as she tries to cope with what’s happening, and the fact that she has very little say in the outcome.

But then, when do any of us have any real say in the outcome?  Physical death is a reality to be met in the course of any life.  It is inevitable.  I had begun to write in an exception for those alive when our Lord returns, but that’s not really true, is it?  Even then, ‘in the twinkling of the eye,’ this present body must die, and the new body of immortality taken up (1Co 15:51-53).  Or, if you prefer, “It is appointed for men to die once and after this, judgment” (Heb 9:27).  No exception clause there.  But what is physical death to the immortal soul, especially for the soul redeemed from sin?  There’s a reason those tombstones of old bore the phrase, “Rest in peace.”  That’s the soul’s condition in that state.  “Today, you will be with Me in Paradise” (Lk 23:43).  This is our assurance.  There is no Limbo to be weathered, working off the debt of sin.  What work could suffice, if in fact the blood of Christ did not already?  Limbo, were it the case, might as well be hell, for there could be no hope of exit.

So, we depart the physical body to enter into a time of rest, a time freed of the temptations of this life, freed of sin’s failings.  No, we have not yet attained to our perfection, for the obtaining of our new body has not yet transpired, it would seem.  It’s a time still of waiting, but waiting now in the presence of our beloved Lord and King.  As I wrote earlier, what’s to be dreaded in that?  Why, then, this resisting of death?  I mean, it’s not an end to be sought, nor is it, in reality, a thing we could hurry or delay.  We have our agency, to be sure, and we have a responsibility to care for this gift of life, even in its present state.  But in the end, God has numbered our days, and that’s an end to it.  He knows.  He determines.  And His determination, we are assured, is for our good – for our best good.

And still, if I were to shift this present situation and its perspective just a bit, consider what my own response would be were it my wife facing the imminence of demise, I have little doubt but that I, too, would be hanging on, seeking an extension.  And I, too, would know it for the selfish request that it is, and still I would request.  Oh!  But we need a shift of focus.  And Paul, it seems, has done so in his own case.  Of course, he’s been sitting in prison, as it were.  Not that he has been in some barren cell, so far as we know.  No, it seems he was able to rent a house for himself, and the guard would be with him there.  But there loomed this case to be heard before Nero, and he being who he was, the outcome of such a hearing truly could prove a death sentence.  Seems unlikely, given the obvious innocence of the case, but it could not be guaranteed.  So, yes, he’s had time and enough to contemplate the possibility of his own demise.  And we hear his conclusion just a bit farther along in this letter.  “For me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Php 1:21).  He sees that rest ahead, and honestly, it’s not a thing to dread, but a thing to be desired.

It’s hard to miss just how central this matter of death and resurrection was to the preaching of the Gospel.  We seem to have lost that focus somewhat.  Perhaps we need to get back to it.  No, I don’t suppose there’s any perhaps to it at all.  We need to get back to it.  What is the Gospel?  Jesus Christ, the Son of the Living God, was born into a life like our own, lived as a man, but without sin, died as a man, by means most awful, truly dead and buried, and yet, He rose again, an event witnessed firsthand by far too many to be any sort of hoax, and ascended into heaven – again, visibly, before a host of witnesses still alive to tell about it as this news spread.  He died by the Father’s good intent, to bear the sins of mankind.  He rose as accepted by God, the perfect sacrifice.  He lives for eternity, as He must, being God.  But He lives now with still this human nature in Himself, and this, as a guarantee of our own resurrection.  As Paul writes to the Corinthians (the which I am reading again this week for men’s group), “If we have hoped in Christ for this life only, we are of all men most to be pitied” (1Co 15:19).  The whole exercise of religion has been pointless except it persists beyond the grave, except there is this assurance of rising to new life.

After all, it is the promise of the One we follow and proclaim True God.  “He who believes in Me shall live even if he dies.  Everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die.  Do you believe this?” (Jn 11:25-26).  Well, do you?  If you do, then why this trepidation?  If you do, then honestly, you ought to be living in anticipation.  That is, after all, our call.  Be ready.  Be ready today.  Be ready at any moment.  And how are we to be ready?  By being about the business of our Father.  By seeking to mature.  By seeking to walk worthy of this gift of life that is given us.  And, yes, by joyful anticipation of the Day.

I wonder how many Christians can truly say that they live in joyful anticipation of that Day.  We are, for the most part, still entirely too attached to our worldliness, to our present loves and interests.  This is hardly surprising, nor is it entirely wrong.  “The one who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen” (1Jn 4:20).  It’s not that we dismiss all earthly attachments and stick with the ethereal, the super-spiritual, having total disregard for physical realities.  That will never do.  It’s been tried.  It’s still being tried.  But it is inevitable that it will fail.  No, but we live in the potential imminence of that Day.

I have written enough times by now of this insistent desire in many of us, that we must know the schedule, we must surely be told by our Lord when He is coming.  Does He not call us to observe the signs of His imminence?  Well, yes, He does.  But then, the signs of His imminence are everywhere and always.  They are intended to be.  Has He not told you, point blank, “It’s not for you to know”?  Even for the Apostles, the message was, “It is not for you to know times or epochs which the Father has fixed by His own authority” (Ac 1:7).  What?  Do you suppose yourself more advanced than they, more Spirit-filled perhaps?  The whole point is that we do not know.  But we live daily, moment to moment, with the possibility of imminence.  It could be today.  It could be this morning.  Or, it might be centuries away yet.  We don’t know.  We will not know.  But, Lord willing, we will be found ready.  Without that hope, without that assurance, this whole pursuit of religion is a bloody waste of time.

But we are not without that assurance.  We simply lose sight of it at times.  No.  It is coming, whether through the grave or through the appearing of our Lord, it is coming.  These bodies must be renewed, regenerated even as our spirits have been regenerated.  I still find myself unable to say with conviction that this new body we shall obtain will remain recognizably like our old one.  Who’s to say?  Is my renewed spirit still recognizably the old one?  Will it remain so in its perfection?  Paul’s chosen analogy is that of a seed sown.  The seed bears no physical resemblance to that growth to come.  Nobody is going to look at, say, a peach pit, and intuit the form of the tree from its appearance.  And yet, it is the tree that grows.  This he equates to the body that goes into the grave, and the body that arises to join Christ in heaven.  They are related, but to find any resemblance may very well be beyond us.

Now, yes, I do realize that Jesus, in His visits to the Apostles post-resurrection were in recognizable form.  But then, we must also recall those occasions where He was entirely unrecognized, even with some length of association.  Take, for example, those two on the Emmaus Road.  How is it they didn’t recognize Him, as they walked and talked together?  Or Mary, who had known Him for years now, traveled with Him, ate with Him, sat at His feet many a night learning from Him; how is it that she mistook Him for a gardener she’d never met before?  No, these new bodies are going to be something quite different from what we have as present.  Perhaps they are capable of malleable form, able to appear recognizable or not, as the situation requires.  I don’t know.

What I do know is this:  We are called to live in the possibility of imminence.  That Day should hold no dread for us.  It is the day when we shall be called to come to our Lord, our Husband, to dwell with Him forever.  Is there a judgment to be faced?  Perhaps.  I am not wholly convinced of it, when it comes to believers called by God.  But if we do face it, it shall be with Jesus at our side as our Advocate, our Attorney, and Him also the Judge.  Whom shall we fear?  We are pointed to this day not as a day of dread, not as a thing to fear, but as a matter of hope, a day to be desired.

Calvin instructs that hope must always direct our eyes to this blessed resurrection which is our assured reward.  Reward seems the wrong answer.  Reward would suggest that we have worked so as to earn it.  But it is as much a gift as is our salvation in the first place.  It is as much down to the work of God as faith.  Yet, it is the phrase we use.  So be it.  If, however, it is a reward, I think we shall find it is the reward awarded Christ, that He shall have in eternity all those whom the Father has given Him, all those whom He has shepherded faithfully and safely to the end.  “I lost not a one” (Jn 18:9).

So, what of the present?  For the present, live in the possibility of imminence, not in dread, but in hope.  Recognize the blessing of this assured resurrection.  Know the day of Jesus Christ, the day of His coming to claim His kingdom and His bride, as the joy it is.  Here is our goal.  We, as Christians, ought always to be far more attentive to that day, than to matters of our physical death.  Wherefore this dread of physical death, when wonders such as this await us?  No, we don’t rush the matter.  But neither do we insistently push it off, to the degree such power lies with us.  How does this play into planning and preparing?  I don’t know.  What does all this say to questions of how to dispose of this body when its time is done?  I don’t know.  Some, I know, would insist the body must be interred intact, to be picked up later, as it were.  But physics suggests that’s a bit optimistic.  Decomposition happens.  In due course, those elements that formed our bodies return to the general pool of available matter, likely becoming part of other bodies, and almost certainly having been part of numerous bodies before they formed ours.  So, can cremation really render any less possible the resurrection of the soul?  I don’t see it.

As we consider such matters, it seems to me the primary concern is on those who remain.  After all, the one interred is hardly going to care, is he?  That soul is already gone, abiding in the immediate presence of our Lord.  Every tear has already been wiped away for them.  It is the sorrow of those who remain that needs solace.  It is the desire of those who remain to honor, in some fashion this one who has departed that is served by whatever form our rites of departure may take.  Now, it may be some innate repulsion at the thought of death, but at present I find I really don’t care what is done.  Do I need a grave, some marker to say I was here?  Why?  Either my life has left a mark in the hearts and minds of those who knew me or it hasn’t.  Too late to do much about it when I’m dead.  And for those some centuries later?  What of them?  What value is it to me if they can come read some dates on a rock and say, “Hmm.  Wonder who this guy was?”  No.  What matters is heaven.  What matters is that my soul will be with my Lord.  “With my eyes, I shall see God.”  That is the day to anticipate with joy.  And in the meantime, I shall enjoy this life that He has given me, and I shall endeavor to enjoy those whom He has given me to share this time.  And in due course, I shall rest, and I shall rejoice.  Praise be to His name, and may He indeed pursue His good and perfect will in me, in those I love, and in all whom He loves.

Again, an odd place to leave off a study.  But here is where I’ve landed, and so, here I end.

Father, thank You for Your timing.  Thank You for Your orchestration of all these moving parts of study, of men’s group, of reading with Janice, of life events.  You do indeed have perfect timing, and I remain in awe of You.  Wondrous are Your ways, and tender Your ministrations.  Thank You.  I pray You help each of us sort through our thoughts and emotions, preparing rightly for both the day of physical death and the joy of resurrection.  Help us to value life rightly, and to accede to Your will in all things, rejoicing even when sorrows must come.  Blessed be Your name.