A Place of Prayer (12/23/24)

“And this I pray.”  Thus does Paul begin this passage, though in fairness, it is properly the culmination of what began with the last several verses.  He prays often, and with great joy (v3-4), a joy grounded in observation of their fruitful faith (5-6), which is his reasonable act of worship (v7).  Now, he has come to the content of that constant prayer.  But you know?  It is something of a quandary for me, just what is the value and the function of prayer?  Does prayer change God’s program?  Hardly that.  The all-powerful God Who answers to no higher authority than Himself is not going to render his actions subject to His own subjects.  Is prayer somehow the means by which He opts to pursue His ends?  I think we must say that yes, it is.  And yet, even if this is so, it cannot be in such fashion as would make our failure to pray His failure to perform.

My inclination is to consider that prayer is far more to do with aligning our own thoughts and concerns with those of God than with seeking to cajole God into taking our side.  That sounds particularly cynical, I suppose, but isn’t that what our prayers often devolve into?  Please, God, do this thing for me.  Do this for me, and I promise I’ll…  We’ll even wheedle a bit.  But You promised!  And most often, when we get to that point, it has very little to do with any true promise.  If it were truly His promise, we should have no need of seeking to convince Him of it.  And that takes me back to my premise.  It’s not God that needs convincing.  It’s us.  But if this is the sum of prayer, then wherefore the urging to pray for others?  We have a prime example of that in Paul.  Every letter speaks of his prayer life, and his prayer life is full of the concerns and the needs of others.  It seems that, given the constancy of his prayers, and the numerous individuals for whom he prayed, there could be very little time left to pray for his own needs and concerns.  Yet, he no doubt prayed for these as well, and for direction, and for deliverance, and for a clearer perception of God’s will, and so on, and so on.

With all that in view, I found this remark from Matthew Henry of interest.  He suggests that the sort of prayer we find Paul elaborating here are of a nature that will help us direct our steps, that will encourage in us the pursuit of those very things prayed for.  Now, that may be in keeping with my thought that prayer aims to adjust our thinking, not God’s acting.  But then, so often, our prayers are private affairs.  We may tell a brother or sister that we are praying for them, and it might even be true that we are.  Yet, if we have not, as Paul does here, laid out the content of that prayer, in what way could it be directing their thoughts or actions? 

But it does, doesn’t it?  We pray because we have seen prayers answered.  It may have required a bit of training of our perceptions to recognize the answer when it came, but the answer came.  We know God hears.  We know He replies.  There’s never a busy signal, never a shunting of our prayers to the answering service.  And His responses are always timely and right on time – not our time, necessarily.  Our schedule can never dictate His.  But if we have eyes to see and heart to perceive, we will indeed recognize His response.  And if we have proper discernment, we will recognize that His response was just right, even if our expectations were wrong.

So, how does this work?  I have no idea.  All that I can propose is that in prayer we are in a closer union with our Lord, united as one with the Holy Spirit.  In this condition, we not only lay our hearts bare before Him, who after all, needs not further baring of hearts already quite fully exposed before Him, but also lays our hearts open to receiving His imprint.  It is, after all, a two-way conversation, even if it often seems that we speak quite alone in our thoughts.  I have posited before that these times of study are one means by which prayer becomes such a two-way conversation, as we hear from our Lord through His Word, and I would still maintain that this is the case.  I was much moved by that point Tom made in teaching on prayer, that we should make use of Scripture as a basis for prayer, or, as I believe he put it, let the Word inform our prayers.  And in turn, we ought to let our prayers inform our perception of the Word.  That is to say, if we aren’t inviting the Holy Spirit to speak to us through the Word, aren’t seeking His understanding as we study this marvelous revelation of God, then all we’ve got is opinions.  But when He is in the work?  Then, indeed, we are hearing God’s side of the conversation, and what a wonderful thing it is!

Now, Mr. Henry finds motivation in that, knowing that one has prayed for us in some certain regard, we find ourselves seeking to attain to that end prayed for, in part, so as not to disappoint him who prayed.  But that seems to me rather a poor motivation, too poor for so rich a source.  Far better that we should be moved by the desire to please Him to whom prayer is directed.  And better still that we should, rather than seeking to perhaps appease Him by our efforts, we should seek instead to perceive where He is answering, and to come alongside Him in that place of fruitfulness.  For, as I have often observed, nothing is so fruitless and frustrating as when our efforts to answer our prayers are at odds with God’s intentions.  Think of Abraham’s example, as but one.  So many times we find him trying to answer prayer on because God, by his estimate, either isn’t answering, or is expecting him to see to it himself.  And he’s wrong.  And the result is trouble, until finally he comes alongside God in God’s chosen course of answering.  There is the place of productivity.  There is the place of rest and peace, as we joyfully labor alongside our Lord, submitted to His will and purpose, and depending on Him wholly for the outcome.

If prayer directs our steps, may it be to this end, that our steps come alongside His own.  Then, and only then can we have hope that our character might indeed take on the shape of His own.  And that is eminently to be desired.

Discerning, Knowledgeable Love (12/24/24-12/25/24)

Last time through these verses I see that I was trying hard to get to the subject of knowledge but could not get there without first exploring the subject of love more than I had expected to do.  But this is exactly the order in which Paul presents the object of his prayers.  That should hardly surprise us, given his letter to Corinth.  There, he makes plain that love is key, the chiefest of chief graces in this Christian life.  “Faith, hope, and love abide, but the greatest of these is love” (1Co 13:13).  It is the one thing that persists even unto eternity.  It is the thing without which nothing else that we can do in ministry will be of value whatsoever.  While it remains true, as it must, that without faith we cannot please God (Heb 11:6), the time will come – in whatever degree time still applies in an eternal setting – when faith is no more because the object of faith now stands revealed.  (Heb 11:1 – Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, not seen.)  If faith is the evidence of things unseen, then when they are seen, faith, if it does not come to an end, must surely change in its substance.  The things hoped for are now before us.  What call for hope?  Faith may persist in the form of reliance upon the Christ Who now stand before us in the fulness of His glory, but it is no more holding to hope.  It is firmly anchored in love’s object revealed.

Okay, so swing back into this letter before us.  “I pray that your love may abound even more.”  There is nothing negative about this.  That I pray for your increase does not indicate a lack.  It only admits the obvious; that there is always room for growth, room for improvement.  I’m sure I’ve used the example before, but I do recall, in my brief career as a manager, that come review time, I was carefully corrected from the desire to give glowing reviews.  “Always leave room for improvement.”  Always leave something to strive for.  And doesn’t God do this very thing with us?  We wonder at the fact that we are not simply perfected in the moment of our redemption.  Why are we left to continue in this flesh, and in the desires of the flesh?  Perhaps God took the same management course.  Or perhaps He wrote it.  But the reality is that we will not mature in any right and meaningful fashion except we are challenged to grow.

So, what is this love?  Is it warmth of feeling?  Is it that sense of enjoyment we have when we are with others of like interests?  Well, we know that feelings can lie to us.  We know that there have been many we thought we loved, to whom we felt some attraction, who either proved unreceptive, or unworthy of that attraction.  No doubt, others have looked upon us in like fashion, and come away with like disappointment.  Well, let me say this.  Yes, there is warmth of feeling in this love to which we are called and in which we are to abound.  But it’s not alone.  Yes, there is enjoyment of our brother Christians, and yes, even of the unbelievers we encounter in our days.  Jesus, when He went to dine with tax collectors and other such lost sheep, did not sit at table with dour and disapproving looks for those around Him.  He had joy in their company, and participated joyfully in it.  Obviously, there are boundaries on such enjoyment.  We cannot enter into the cavorting of a bacchanal, or in the things on offer at the local brothel.  But that leaves much that we can enjoy.  We can dine with the unwashed, as it were.  We can participate in the comradery of the office.  But we do so with love, and love must know limits to what can be acceptably said and done.

This love, after all, to which we are called, in which we abide and of which we overflow is a love that is at once compassionate and selfless.  Let me tell you, not that you don’t already know; this is hard!  It is a challenge quite probably beyond us to be selfless in life.  We may manage it in spurts, or for brief periods.  But sooner or later, self reasserts, starts whining, “what about me?”  Compassion is, or can be, draining.  There is a lot of hurt out there.  There’s a lot of hurt in here.  And to open oneself up to that will, apart from the power of God, drain you, overwhelm you.  But this is exactly where we are being called to enter in.  Look at that love which God has expressed for you and for me.  His love was not of a sort that came in response to being loved.  His love was not reserved for those who had somehow proven deserving of being loved.  His love came to those who, to the degree they noted His existence at all, hated Him.  It came, because His love is nothing other than the expression of Who He Is.  While we were yet enemies, He came.  While we were yet enemies, He took upon Himself the full weight of the full penalty for all our sins.  While we were yet enemies, He expressed a love for us so strong, so pure, as to willingly die that we might live, reconciling us to God through His sacrifice, and saving us with His very life (Ro 5:10).  Yes, He was restored to life, and Yes, He knew this would result, as He faced the cross.  Yet, He endured that suffering, suffering such as we shall, God willing, never know, the suffering not just of that agonizing death which was crucifixion, but of sundered fellowship with the Father and with the Spirit, a fellowship already eternal in its duration, and deeper than any fellowship we have known in this life.  And yet, “for the joy set before Him, He endured the cross, despising its shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb 12:2).  Compassionate and selfless.  This is the love God has sown to us through Jesus Christ our Savior.  And it is the love He calls us to demonstrate, thus making clear to the world around us that we are indeed His, and that He is indeed the Son of the Living God.  No other proof will do.

But this magnificence of love, this overflowing river of God’s love, comes with riders, with levees, if you will, to shape that river’s course.  I loved that image that Clarke offered, of love so abounding in us as to overflow the banks and flood the plains of the world around us.  But as all such images must, it fails if pressed too hard.  This love does not overflow its banks.  It’s just that those banks allow for a wide and life-giving flow.  What banks are these?  What the NASB renders as ‘real knowledge and all discernment.’  This compassionate, selfless love of God, flowing in and through us, is to be bounded by epignosis and aesthesis.  I rather like the description supplied by the Wycliffe Translators’ Commentary:  Precise knowledge, and moral clarity.  They proceed to say, “Love must comprehend with accuracy and apply the truth with discrimination and ethical common sense.”  Ethical common sense:  There’s a phrase.  It sounds almost like two dissociated things.  What have ethics to do with common sense?  Ethics, after all, are the stuff of careful consideration, and the whole point of common sense is that it doesn’t really require consideration.  It’s just what one does.

Ah, but proper concern with ethics must surely lead to an ingrained perspective of what is truly right and acceptable, and what is truly wrong and to be rejected.  That’s rather the point of discernment.  To discern, and then proceed with total disregard for perception would be utterly foolish and quite possibly deadly.  Oh yes, I see that this way would be better, but I’m going that way anyway.  And yet, how often do we do just that?  Isn’t that the impact of sin as we seek to walk holy?  We know we shouldn’t.  We feel that temptation arising, and we know that there exists an escape route.  God has promised that we can resist, that He will not test us beyond our ability.  And yet, something in us wishes to fail.  We’ll get back to that holiness in a minute, God, but we need a break.  And there we are, sinning once more, ashamed once more.  But not without hope.  No.  We know our God.  We have grieved Him, to be sure, but not to the point of disowning.  Never that!  No!  “I have called you by name.  You are Mine” (Isa 43:1).  And God does not lose what is His.  This is no excuse to try His patience, but when we have lost sight for a moment, when we have yet again willfully given license to this flesh, when once we have returned to our senses, He is there, waiting, ready to forgive, to restore, to clean off and strengthen, that we might do better next time.

Now, I cannot allow mention of epignosis to pass by without taking notice of its penetrating, life-changing nature.  Various people give various meaning to the term, and it seems to me that all of it applies.  This is indeed clear and exact knowledge, full and precise knowledge.  That is not, as one or the other of the commentaries emphasized, to say that it is 100% complete knowledge of all that God is.  How could it be?  His ways are far and away above our own, and He has determined all that He wishes to make known to us as to His nature, His character, and His requirements of His children.  There are myriad things that He retains for His own private knowing, which is assuredly His prerogative.  He is God, after all, and not we.  But He has told us what is good.  He has told us, and then demonstrated to us in His Son, everything that is needful for life and godliness (2Pe 1:3).  Indeed, that grant of power is itself ‘through the epignosis’ of Him.  But I have also observed that such depth of knowing, such character-forming, life-giving understanding, cannot come about apart from close, deep relationship with this God we are coming to know.  It’s not had from mere book learning.  As valuable as I account these times of study, or time spent reading the Scriptures, or discussing them, or hearing them expounded, all of that amounts to nothing except there is a real and rich relationship with this God who knows us.  It is in this relationship with God that we find this clear and exact knowledge truly made life-changing.  It is because He is with us, in us, around us, that this knowledge which He imparts is not merely held in thought, but fully internalized and incorporated, made the very fiber of our being.

What we know of God becomes who we are in God because we are in fact in God, and He in us.  Go back to Jesus’ marvelous prayer.  “Even as You, Father, are in Me, and I in You, I ask that they also may be in Us.  That they may be one, even as We are one” (Jn 17:21-22).  This is not some future glory, although in that future glory we will assuredly know this unity with far greater clarity and consistency than we do now.  No!  This is our present state, who are the called of God.  This is what the zeal of the Lord has done!  “You shall be My people, and I shall be your God” (Jer 30:22).  This is the light that has shone into the darkness of our land, a great light indeed (Isa 9:2).  Unto us a child is born, a son given, to be Immanuel, God with us (Isa 9:6).  And He shall reign forevermore.  Indeed, He does reign forevermore, though so much of the world remains in rebellion against His righteous rule.  But for us?  We know Him.  More, we know that He has known us, and called us His own.  He has done it.  All fear is gone, for what God has done, who shall undo?  As Paul writes, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Ro 8:31).  To be sure, we shall face opposition, just as the righteous have in every age.  But it shall prove ineffectual.  For we remain in His hands, hands from which no power in all creation can ever pry us loose (Jn 10:29).

That is rather a grand conglomeration of verses, but what a wonder they unfold!  What a wonder they bring back to mind, for we know already.  But sometimes, oftentimes, we allow the fud of life to distract us from our true estate.  I am His, and He is mine, and our love grows as our knowledge grows, and our knowledge of Him grows as our love grows.  Knowledge of this sort is not the cold analysis of academia.  It is the stuff of relationship.  It is, “Getting to know You, getting to know all about You.”  Yes, that’s a sappy song, but it fits in this instance.  That’s rather the message of this prayer, isn’t it?  Love abounds as knowledge, wisdom, and discernment increase.  Or, as Calvin writes, “For, the greater proficiency we make in knowledge, so much more ought our love to increase.”

Now, he leaves it at ought to, but I don’t know as there’s really any possibility of it being otherwise.  Who will contemplate that which is truly lovely and not grow in their love of it?  I suppose, with my professional background, there are plentiful matters which I have come to know with a certain intimacy of knowledge, gaining knowledge of all the intricacies and idiosyncrasies of this or that design or protocol or language or tool.  But there is little enough of love in that sort of knowledge.  It’s necessary to the task, yes.  And there’s a certain degree of pride, I suppose, in having gained that understanding.  But here, it’s not a tool, a lever by which to gain advantage that is in view.  It’s personal.  It’s getting to know the personal God.  And let us understand that I am not by any stretch suggesting we each get our own individualized God.  That’s not the point.  But He has Personhood.  He is not some abstract power with which we cannot reason.  He is not some phantasm by which we seek to convince ourselves we have explanations for the inexplicable.  He is a relational being Who has, of His own accord, entered into relationship with us.  He has even, in His immeasurable grace and wisdom, become one of us so as to better relate to us in our weaker condition.

And why?  Because God loves us, and He would have us love Him.  But He would not have us love our preferred idea of Him.  He would have us love Him in the full reality of Who He Is.  As I wrote previously, He has, after all, loved you and me in spite of our totality.  Face it.  We are pretty unlovely people at times, most times, I suspect.  We try.  But more often we are merely trying.  And He puts up with us, receives us nonetheless, like the loving Father that He Is.  But then, He doesn’t hide Himself from us, either.  We may tend to hide the aspects of His being we find less delightful, but He does not.  “I am the One forming light and creating darkness.  I cause well-being and I create calamity.  I am the LORD who does all these things” (Isa 45:7).  Oh, but God!  You are Love!  How could You?  “I AM.  I will be gracious to whom I will, and show compassion to whom I will” (Ex 33:19).  But there’s implication there, that He will not where He wills not.  And still, there is this invitation to love.  “Come.  There is a place by Me.  And you shall stand on the Rock” (Ex 33:21).  Don’t know as I’ve ever looked at that in quite this light before.  It is, after all, a bit of the narrative of Moses’ experience.  But it is written for our benefit, who live at the end of the age.  And the Rock that was with Israel in the wilderness, we are told, was indeed Christ Jesus (1Co 10:4), the Rock which followed them.  Isn’t that something?  So, why would it not be this same Rock upon which Moses was called to stand and see the Lord?  And if it is indeed He, how is He not the same Rock upon which we are also called to stand, and know the nearness of our God?

Back to our passage.  I am deeply engaged by this reality.  Love is not separate from knowledge is not separate from moral clarity.  We are, again, too informed by worldly ideas of love, which barely escape the realm of puppy love as we used to call it.  There’s little enough of moral clarity to that.  Indeed, we incline to remind those besotted by such emotions that love is blind, or explain their manifestly poor decisions in that state by this understanding.  But this is no blind love to which we are called.  It is love fully informed, and a love infinitely richer for being so.  And this same, well-grounded love we have for God Who loves us is to be the sort of love we have towards those among whom we dwell.  This applies, obviously, to our own households.  It applies as well to our church family.  But it applies beyond that, to the neighbors included in that second greatest commandment that shapes our course.  This is no more to be blind love than any other aspect of Christian love.  It is not love that disregards reality, but perhaps in some fashion love that supersedes the input of reality, but even if it supersedes those inputs, it remains a matter of clear knowledge and sound judgment.  It takes into account the fulness of God, of His love, of His power to change even the hardest of hearts (after all, He succeeded in changing ours).  It takes into account the good and perfect will of God, as best our imperfect, fleshly minds can perceive it.  It takes into account what the character of God has been forming in us, and how that ought to bear on the situation at hand.  And it demonstrates the changed heart within us by a changed perspective, a changed attitude, a changed caring appreciation and concern for those we encounter.  We can traverse the grocery store with joy, rather than frustration.  We can bless those around us rather than curse them for delaying our progress.  We can embrace the interruptions of the day, seeking the opportunity they present, rather than grumbling because our plans have been disrupted.

But understand this.  “Strong passions, without knowledge and a settled judgment, will not make us complete in the will of God, and sometimes do more hurt than good.”  I draw that from Matthew Henry, always a rich source of wise insights.  Love must be firmly planted upon real knowledge and sound judgment.  It must take the true measure of that towards which it would be expressed.  It must also test and try every teaching and every experience.  That begins to bleed us into the next verse, with its prayer that we would be such as approve those things truly excellent.  Discernment isn’t all about finding the faults in others, or discovering the errors in this message or that.  It’s about perceiving the good, perceiving the best.  But for love to be discerning, it must be instructed, informed by Word and Spirit, so as to truly be in accord with God’s thoughts.  Only then can love remain in proportion.  Only then can love be as it ought to be.

I really liked this point that the JFB makes.  “Christianity is a vigorous plant, not the hot-bed growth of enthusiasm.”  This is not to say that Christianity is not enthusiastic.  It should be.  But it should be, precisely because it is vigorous.  The enthusiasm comes of the rich supply of roots dug deep into the rich soil of the Word, well watered by the Spirit.  It is love informed.  It is love instructed.  It is love that seeks, as the root seeks nourishment, the instruction of Scripture, the wisdom which God promises to those who ask.  There is nothing of blind affection to this, but rather that sort of love which we are reminded fulfills both law and gospel.  Love for God and for man combine to form the fundamental of the Law, that from which every other commandment depends.  That same love serves as evidence of our belonging to Christ.  “Love one another.  By this all men will know that you are Mine” (Jn 13:34-35).  “Owe nothing to any man but love” (Ro 13:8a), “for you are taught by God to love one another” (1Th 4:9), “fervently, from the heart” (1Pe 1:22), “for love is from God” (1Jn 4:7), and if He so loved us, so we ought to love one another.  “If we love one another, God abides in us, and His love is perfected in us.  By this we know that we abide in Him and He in us, because He has given us of His Spirit” (1Jn 4:11-13).  This is God’s purpose in us.  It is to this end that He came, that He died, that He rose again and ascended to heaven to take His place at God’s right hand:  That we might know His love, live in His love, and show His love to a love-hungry world.  We are not here as scolds and nags, but as encouragers, as comforters to those in need.  Let us, then, learn from the love of our Lord, and find it in ourselves to live out the love of our Lord both for ourselves and for those we encounter in our day.  Let us, in our own part, fulfill both law and gospel.  “Love thy neighbor as thyself.”

Sincerity (12/26/24)

I come next to the second half of verse 10, with the prayerful seeking that we might be ‘sincere and blameless.’  Now, our idea of sincerity will not serve here.  It has connection, but it falls quite short of the meaning intended.  That intent is to depict a state of purity such as will withstand the clearest and closest scrutiny.  The idea, we are told, is of examining porcelain in the clear light of day so as to assay that its firing in the kiln did not lead to cracks which the seller has disguised.  Or we may take it as looking at the bottle of honey in clear light to confirm that no wax from the comb remains.  Bear in mind that glass bottles such as we might find honey sold in today did not pertain.  It would need strong light to penetrate the depths of the container such that one might be able to perceive any such residue.

Here, the thing being examined is the soul, we might say the true character.  And we know how terribly adept we can be, or at least think ourselves to be, at maintaining image which may or may not in fact reflect our true selves.  Clarke offers that the idea Paul has in view is to, “Be so purified and refined in your souls, by the indwelling Spirit, that even the light of God shining into your hearts, shall not be able to discover a fault that the love of God has not purged away.”  Or, we can take Ironside’s perspective, which is not so very far removed.  He speaks of saints in true holiness, passing inspection in the light of God Himself, being found, ‘straightforward and honest in all their dealings;’ thus free of all sham and hypocrisy.  We are not so far from the idea of alethia which I have so long held in appreciation, that state in which our outward appearance and our inward being, our character are in full accord.  We are what we appear to be.  This, of course, must require that what we are is what God intends, and so, we are back to His inspection, and indeed, to His workmanship in us.  We are, after all the clay of which He is the Potter.  If we go back to the illustrative porcelain that is being inspected, well!  Is not the Inspector He Who formed and fired us?  Yes, and He is also the kiln in which we are fired!

Scripture speaks of the all-consuming fire of God, which is an aspect of His holiness.  We must surely understand that ‘all’ in this case consists solely in that which is impure.  If we turned to the imagery of the metallurgist, we arrive at the crucible in which the ore is heated to extremes of heat so as to burn off whatever can be burned off from that purifying metal.  And in that process the dross, the residual ash of that burning, or the bits of mineral waste in the ore, rise to the surface of the molten metal, joining with such oxidation as will tend to occur when molten metal meets the air, and this must be scraped off, removed, so as to leave only the pure ore.  But the ore itself is not consumed.  So, too, the all-consuming fire of God.  It does not consume what is holy, only cleanses it, rids it of every contaminant.  It is this fire of God which prepares the believer for His inspection.  It is this fire of God, we might say, which heats the kiln in which the porcelain of faith is set, in order that we might come forth in the full and delicate beauty of that holiness He has been producing in us.

I know.  I am mixing images, and straining metaphors, and combining ideas here in hopes of presenting the case in some recognizable form.  Paul, to drive home the depth of purity he has in view for us, adds the word blameless to parallel his point.  And this word, too, will tend to conjure in us ideas of perfection.  After all, if we are blameless, it must surely be that we are free of every defect, right?  All sin’s stain is removed by that process which has led to our sincerity of holiness.  And no temptation, no falling short or missing the mark of God’s commandments has stained us since.  Yet, if this is the goal, who can hope to attain unto it?  Who, indeed, can stand before the holiness of God?  Who is to be found with hands so clean, with life so fully transformed?  Could Paul himself claim such a standard?  Well, he does in fact present the case that he has sought to live such a life as could claim to be blameless in the sight of God and man.  Is he, though, claiming perfection?

Clarke, it would seem, would suggest that indeed he could and probably did.  He looks to this prayer and finds in it clear indication for the possibility, at least, of perfection in this life.  So strongly does he perceive it as to pronounce it blasphemous to suggest otherwise.  Well, then, strong feeling certainly, but is it with knowledge?  That is a difficult question, isn’t it?  To be sure, there was a time when I would have found his conclusion quite convincing, and quite close to my own view.  Now, I find it quite the opposite, but does that make me right and him wrong?  Or am I just heartily convinced of what’s convenient to my self-image?

Ironside offers something of an escape route here in suggesting that blamelessness in this application does not in fact imply moral perfection, but only right motive.  Well, that should certainly come as a relief, but I’m not sure the word would truly bear it.  “Not in offense.”  Not led into sin, or leading into sin.  Not causing another to stumble, nor stumbling oneself, or turning to Paul’s self-defense, not troubled or distressed by any consciousness of sin (Ac 24:16 – I do my best to maintain always a blameless conscience before God and men.)  But we should back up, for Paul claims a reason for this effort, which consists in, “a hope in God that there shall certainly be a resurrection of both the righteous and the wicked” (Ac 24:15).  Is Paul, then, claiming perfection?  Well, no.  Only that he does his best.  Does he fear falling short in the end?  Well, no.  He knows who began this work, and He knows that One is faithful to complete it (Php 1:6).  And observe, in that verse, that we are pointed to this same occasion, ‘until the day of Christ Jesus.’

This, I think, is key for our understanding of Paul’s intent.  We are looking at a tiny preposition, but one quite familiar – eis.  We encounter it often in the admonition of study, that we seek to exegete rather than eisegete, which is to say to read the meaning out of the passage, not into.  We must take care that Scripture informs us, and not us Scripture.  Now, the NASB has this translated as until in both places, which conveys to us a sense of time rather than direction.  And it can take that sense of time, whether as expressing the limit, or – and this is rather important – the time in which something is done.  And that is an open question in this case, isn’t it?  Is Paul suggesting that this completion of the work, this perfection of holiness, is something held constant in the present until we reach that threshold of the Lord’s return?  Or is he pointing us to a perfection which only transpires in that moment of His return?  I would have to maintain that the phrasing of Philippians 1:6 does not really admit to a present condition of perfection.  The very syntax of the verb there insists it is a future event.  “He will perfect it.”  Ah, but now I see as well that we have a different term before us, achri, pointing to a terminus of time, an endpoint.  The question, then, is whether eis should take that same force, that same perspective.

In answer, I shall have to wax somewhat philosophical.  The problem I find with Clarke’s perspective is that any real possibility of perfection in this life must, in the end, render the work of Christ in atoning for our sins unnecessary.  I am quite sure he would argue that it was His work of atonement which rendered our perfection possible.  That is to say, until Christ had taken away the penalty of our past sins, there could be no hope of moving forward in sinlessness, and certainly, apart from the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit, made possible by Christ’s sending of Him, we could have no hope of pure conscience.  Yet, it still leaves us in a place of having attained perfection, and if having attained perfection, it seems to me we must arrive at a point of no longer needing Jesus, which is a condition untenable, so far as I can see, on the basis of Scripture’s revelation.  We are back at the Law, back at seeking in our own strength to do what only God can do in us.  We have become clay seeking to form itself into a pot.

Yet, I feel the challenge to such a view as well.  If, after all, we are incapable of the goal, why then are we called to strive for it?  If perfection isn’t the point, what’s all the fuss?  Why bother with all this effort of walking worthy?  Why so many passages, even in this epistle, encouraging us to give our all to the pursuit of this unattainable holiness?  I can offer the standard answer that we pursue this course out of thanksgiving and appreciation for God Who saves, rather than as seeking to gain or retain His approval, and I do think that is the proper motive for our efforts.  Indeed, if we live in joyous gratitude for the grace we have received in Christ, it must surely move us to demonstrate that gratitude in seeking to live so as to please Him who has been so gracious.  We considered, in the previous section, how things prayed for lend us a certain encouragement to pursue those things, if only to avoid disappointing the one praying for us.  Now, that, it seems to me, returns us to some rather questionable motivation.  Are we to be people pleasers?  Well, perhaps when a godly man has prayed a godly prayer for our godly character, yes, but only insofar as it pleases God.

I would have to say that Ironside is at least partially correct in driving us towards motive, rather than perfection, that this eis must remain a matter of future perfection, when once this residual body of flesh has joined our spirit in regeneration.  And that, per the teaching of 1Corinthians 15, remains for the day of Christ, when we shall be changed ‘in the twinkling of an eye,’ when we shall finally see Him as He truly is, in the fullness of His glory, and in the fullness of our transformation, such that we are not consumed by the all-consuming fire of His glory.

So, where are we left?  We are left seeking to be such as have a character free of selfish interest, free of disguise, free of the necessity of disguise.  Let me offer a touch from Matthew Henry.  He writes, “When the eye is single, when we are inward with God in what we do, are really what we appear to be, and mean honestly, then we are sincere.”  That’s a lofty goal, is it not?  Is he seeking perfection alongside Mr. Clarke?   Ought we to do so?  Well, yes.  We ought to seek it.  But we ought to do so, I must maintain, with such humility as recognizes that however well we seek, it shall remain a goal that lies ever ahead of us, never quite in our grasp.  But as we seek, we have assurance.  We have assurance not in our own flesh, not in our own steadfast pursuit, but in Him Who perfects.  Jude points us to Him.  “Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to make you stand in the presence of His glory blameless and with great joy, to the only God, our Savior through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, authority, from eternity past to eternity future.  Amen” (Jd 24-25).  To Him.  He is able.  And He is not only able.  He is certain.  It is His determined purpose, His decree in regard to those whom He has called.  He has foreknown, predestined to conformity, called, justified, and yes, glorified (Ro 8:29-30).  If glorified, are we not then perfected?  Yes.  But the key word there is then.

In the meantime, we live a life with purpose, and the purpose is to honor God.  We honor Him by proclaiming His holiness, His goodness, before the congregation and before the watching world.  We proclaim His holiness and His goodness not solely by bold proclamation, but more, by proclaiming through our lives, through our lived character, that we are ourselves submitted to His will and His instruction.  Do we claim perfection?  Not if we wish to withstand the scrutiny of our fellow man, let alone God.  For such scrutiny will assuredly find faults and fissures as things stand.  But that does not prevent sincerity as we admit to our sins, our failings, as we seek to repent and make right, as we both seek and proffer forgiveness wherever and whenever necessitated by the occasion.

Let me return to Clarke one more time.  He writes that, “Every genuine follower of God has His glory in view by all that he does, says, or intends.”  And to that, I think we can offer a hearty and heartfelt, “Amen.”  We have this in view, yes, but in weakness we often lose sight of it.  In practice we often fall short of it.  And in humility, we must confess our failures both to God and to man, not so as to wallow in failure and simply accept it, but to begin again, to dust ourselves off, to recommit and reengage, and seek all the more to incorporate knowledge of God and ‘ethical common sense’ to our character and our worldview.  How do we do this?  We draw closer.  We spend more time in prayer, more time in Scripture, more time in close union with our Lord by all such means as He has provided.  That will include availing ourselves of such means of grace as He has so wisely arranged for our benefit; things like regularly sitting under the sound preaching of the Word, partaking in the communal observance of the sacraments together with our fellow believers, fully partaking of that fellowship of the saints and body ministry which God has ordained as His church.  And yes, that will include in its scope the fellowship of suffering alongside the fellowship of comforting.  We avail ourselves of every such opportunity to be built up in holy faith by our fellow believers, and we seek in our turn to be such as will help to build them up in theirs.  In short, we incorporate the life of Christ into our own lives, and do as best we can to incorporate our lives into the life of His holy Church.  This is the sincere pursuit of a sincere holiness in accordance with submission to the command and instruction of our Lord Jesus Christ, Who is both head and establisher of that church which He assures us shall withstand even the worst assaults from the gates of hell.  For all its faults and failings, it remains the case that Jesus loves the Church.  How could He not?  It is His body.  And He loves the membership of that church, each and every one of us, individually and as a whole.  And loving us, He continues to abide in us, to work His work within us, to draw us ever closer in our union to Him, that we may be one as He is One.  Come.  Enter into this union.  Welcome Him and make Him indeed your center, your all.  Here is purpose in living.  Here is joy in living.  Here is a place of rest from which to pursue the hard work of sanctification. 

True Righteousness (12/27/24)

Now comes the fruit of righteousness, which may be thought to result in those things prayed for, or to result from them.  But I think we must find those things prayed for flow from us as the fruit of righteousness.  For Paul speaks of it as a continual present result of completed past action.  It is a perfect tense statement.  You have been filled, ergo those things prayed for are prayed for with confident expectation of being satisfied.  Love abounds as the fruit of righteousness.  Real knowledge comes as the fruit of righteousness.  Faith, discernment, this sincerity of character of which we have spoken; all of these are the fruit of righteousness.  And, though it is not spoken of here, there is also that aspect of peace which James addresses.  “The seed whose fruit is righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace” (Jas 3:18).

This has been something of a theme for me of late.  “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God” (Mt 5:9).  It’s a worthwhile exercise to consider how we are to be peacemakers in the situations that face us day to day.  It leads to a far more productive, far more beneficial, far happier result than asking, “Why me?  I deserve better than this.”  Funny how often my thoughts go back to that old Steve Taylor song.  Watch out when those thoughts arise!  They are a lie.  You don’t deserve better, nor do I.  Truth be told, we deserve far worse than what we receive, for what we receive from our God is grace upon grace, mercies new every morning.  What we deserve?  Eternal punishment and condemnation.  But He’s already seen to all that, and instead of a life sentence, we have received life, and that, more abundantly than what we had thought to be life.  And so, this seed of righteousness has been planted in us, sown by peacemakers who came before, that we in turn might bear the fruit of righteousness in being peacemakers ourselves.  How do we make peace?  By proclaiming the gospel in word and in deed, by living in the light of Truth, by attaining and putting into practice this real knowledge with real discernment and seeking always that which is truly excellent in God’s sight.

Does this mean we come to a place of discerning God’s perfect will?  Not perfectly, no.  But as God’s character forms in us, is it not entirely reasonable to expect that we shall incline to think more and more as we ought, to perceive more and more with perceptions akin to His own, and to act, now by nature, though not the fleshly nature of the old man, in ways more nearly in step with Him?  As to His perfect will, that remains perfectly known to Him alone.  And in His perfect will, He has perfectly revealed all that He wishes to make known to us.  And He has told us plainly that this is all we need to know.  Oh, yes.  We have our curiosities.  We have our inclination to consider, to posit, to wonder.  Where we run into trouble is when we insist that our inclinations must be answered, or when we come to be so enamored of our suppositions as to suppose them revealed truth in their own right.  No!  Even when I find these themes rising out of my studies, and out of other various means of grace, I must needs be careful.  I must honor those boundaries God places around my understanding, and seek not to exceed what is written.  Is this not what Paul seeks for the church, which is to say, what the Holy Spirit Himself instructs the church?  “I have figuratively applied these things to myself and to Apollos in order that in us you might learn not to exceed what is written” (1Co 4:6a).

How beneficial such a perspective even in human relations!  Don’t fabricate all manner of meaning and significance hidden behind the words spoken to you, but assume face value.  For all that, be such that when you speak, the face value of your words is the meaning.  That gets back to this business of sincerity, of being in truth what you purport to be.  This need not preclude humor, though it may be needful to restrain humor on occasion, so as to remain a peacemaker with those who struggle to perceive humor.  And there’s a lesson I need to take to heart.

Lord, what a curious direction You have lent my thoughts this morning.  Thank You.  This is indeed a place I must be mindful.  For You well know my propensity to lead with humor, to seek ever to lighten the mood, if possible.  And You know my love for wordplay.  But let me learn from You.  Let me learn to rein in that personal preference when facing those who are too readily offended, too caught up in their own minds to recognize the innocence, or even the woundedness in my own tendencies.  And let me learn not to insist on my right to be me.  Let me be more compassionate, more concerned for these others than for my own comfort.  Let me love in truth, in the power of Your love.  Yes, let me be a peacemaker, for I am Your son, and I would be demonstrably so.

There is both a call to action and a call to rest in this prayer.  All of these things for which Paul prays will require action on our part.  Love cannot abound in passivity.  Real knowledge won’t just drop in our lap.  Clear discernment, at the very least, requires looking with clear eyes, and thinking with clear thought.  And indeed, the fruit of righteousness will not grow in one whose faith is as a stick lying on arid, rocky ground.  If Christianity is a vigorous plant, as the JFB described it, it needs planting in the rich soil of grounded faith, and it needs the life-giving sap of Christ’s own life running in its veins, the watering of the Word, the breath of the Holy Spirit.  In short, it cannot be that we attain to these things, except it be by the Lord’s doing.  As things grow in us, as this righteousness bears its proper fruit, let us remain ever mindful that said fruit has come by the Lord, not by our prowess or cleverness.

As Calvin observes, even where this fruit is manifestly evident in us, still righteousness is wholly dependent upon faith, and faith, as we are taught, remains a gift of God, not a work of the flesh, that no man should boast (Eph 2:8-9).  But Matthew Henry joins the thought that though this is from God, we must seek it, and as our fruitfulness depends on Him, flows from Him, it is from Him alone that we must seek it.  Indeed, we are not seeking to earn our way into His favor.  Neither, I suppose, ought we be seeking to prove His favor is upon us.  Rather, we act from gratitude, even, in a sense, from the necessity of what has transpired in the renewing of our hearts.  As I say, it is becoming second nature to us.  Hopefully, it is becoming first nature, as the fleshly pursuits of the old man fade and the godly pursuits of the new man take the fore.

It’s intriguing, the array of perspectives that present on this matter.  Yet, even Clarke, convinced of the potential for perfection in this life, must concur here, and find that any such result must be through the power of the grace of Christ, by the agency of the Holy Spirit, to the honor of the Father.  I pulled that in here, most likely, because of its Trinitarian perspective.  The whole of the Godhead is involved in this outworking of righteousness in us.  Isn’t that something?  Well, of course, the whole of the Trinity is involved in any work of God, but to find Him thus at work in our own, individual life is somehow shocking, almost untoward.  But this is His choice and His prerogative.

And so, with Paul we can say, “By the grace of God, I am what I am” (1Co 15:10), and His grace never proves in vain.  Just so, this fruitfulness of righteousness comes about as a result of His grace, as a result, as Ironside writes, of ‘being exercised under the hand of God.’  Again, ever through Christ.  And again, ever for God’s glory.  It is for His glory that we live and move and breath, as it is in Him that we do so (Ac 17:28), for from Him and through Him and to Him are all things (Ro 11:36).

We can stop here.  True righteousness shows.  It doesn’t show off.  It shows.  I have noted in the past that true humility does not advertise itself.  It just is.  So, too, true righteousness.  True righteousness does not need to draw attention to its deeds.  It does not require poking the observer to get his attention.  It is not a little child insisting that mommy and daddy look and clap their approval.  It just goes about its business.  Neither does such true righteousness need to point itself out to God.  For true righteousness knows it comes from God.  He’s already quite aware.  If anybody needs it pointed out, it’s probably ourselves.  We have need of occasionally being brought to awareness of what God has accomplished in our lives.  And when those moments of awareness come, may we be such as rejoice in God, that He has done this, rather than twisting the event into some cause for self-praise.  No!  It is ever through Christ, and always for God’s glory.  Let us never think to take that for ourselves.

Lord, how readily we rise up to take credit for Your work.  But far be it from us!  My thoughts keep going back to that event in Lesotho, and the response that came to the lesson You gave me to impart.  Truly, it was a moment of amazement to me.  I mean, I knew well enough that You had hold of me in those teaching sessions, an answer to prayer in its own right.  But still, to receive that response, to see the number of people shifted to a real sense of Christian liberty; and there was the flesh, wanting to say, wow, look what I did.  But no!  Not me, but the grace of God in me.  Look what You did!  And I know, on that occasion, at least, I was quick to push that initial response away, to seek the place of thankfulness for Your answer, for Your working in and through me, for the glory of what You had achieved.  But, oh!  The hunger that arises.  It’s a heady thing, this being so fully in Your hands, and that headiness lends itself to the corrupting influence of improper desire, desire for the feeling rather than the result.  Far be it from me!  May I, as You choose, be once again, often again, of such readiness to be an instrument in Your hands.  May I learn to get myself out of Your way, and serve in Your power, by Your direction, and yes, for Your glory.  Let this recollection be more a model than a memory, a beginning rather than an ending.  But, ever as You please.

Godly Character (12/28/24)

What Paul has prayed for is, in short, godly character.  Love abounding in real knowledge and real discernment; a life lived in approval of what is not merely good, but truly excellent, pursuing those ends with sincere effort and with sincere reliance upon Jesus Christ – that’s what we’re after.  And behold, it comes solely through Jesus, solely by the Spirit, and solely to the glory of the Father.  But what does it look like, this godly character?  As I have already observed, given the input of James, it consists, or at lest displays in the peaceful fruit of a life lived in the light of Christ.  And I continue to be caught up in this matter of the peacemaker.  The sons of God shall be peacemakers.  That is the promise of the Beatitudes, as well as the proper, spiritual service of worship on one who is become a living sacrifice to holy God.  Seek, so far as it lies with you, to be at peace with all men (Ro 12:18).  That’s a tall order, but it’s largely attainable, isn’t it?  We can be at peace with our fellow man because we know we are at peace with God.  Indeed, as with love, so with peace.  What flows out of us is but that which He has been pouring into us.

More and more, this is on my mind.  More and more, I am learning to consider each new challenge of the day in the light of this matter of character.  How can I be the peacemaker in this situation?  How can I clamp down on the response of the flesh when it seeks to go on the attack in defense of wounded pride?  How can I choose participation and helpfulness over frustration and annoyance?  And I pray for the day when this, too, is become second nature for me, not a matter for relatively constant concern and attentiveness.  But what a change!  Oh, there are still those things which produce annoyance in me, still those places where familiarity continues to breed contempt.  Life is, after all, full of trials, and it seems more so in this season.  So, in this season I must the more attend to this place in which God is working on me, that I might be more peaceable as the events of life become more stressful.

This may seem somewhat tangential to the passage, yet it is there, isn’t it?  Real knowledge, real discernment, real assay of what is right and excellent, will lead to less strife and angst.  Indeed, it encourages the same perspective that Paul urges nearer the end of this epistle.  “Whatever is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, of good repute, having any excellence, or worthy of praise; let your mind dwell on these things” (Php 4:8).  This will be a fine antidote to any tendency to dwell on all that is wrong with the world, all that threatens our sanguinity.  I am not alone in sensing this, I see.  In point of fact, it is what living for Christ looks like, living a life devoted to Him.  As Barnes observes, such a life consists in serving God in ‘patient and consistent piety.’  Note that word:  Patient.  Oh, no!  There’s that bit of character we are warned never to pray for.  And yet, this is what He values.  And if He values it, ought I not to pray for it?  Oh, yes, I ought!  Patience and peace are partners, largely inseparable.  I don’t suppose one can be patient in anger.  It just wouldn’t work.  One can’t be patient and frustrated.  Frustration is, after all, the end of patience, isn’t it?  But, oh!  To be at peace!  To refuse the frustration, and accept that God has purpose in what is happening.  Well, that may not change anything, but it changes everything.  And it allows us, resting in the peace which God has established with and in us, to exude His peace, His love, and to walk through each situation of the day in that overflow.  Shall we do so perfectly?  Most unlikely.  But can we do so, however haltingly?  Well!  What is impossible for man is entirely possible with God.

What is being encouraged here is new moral habit.  It’s being encouraged, but it is also being observed.  Thus, the object of prayer comes not in commandment to pursue, but in the gospel observation of what God is doing already.  You love.  Love more.  You know.  Know more deeply.  You discern.  God grant greater wisdom in discernment.  You are developing godly character, moral habits of excellence and sincerity.  God supply every improvement in this development.  You are devoted to Him.  Let that devotion continue with all patience and consistency.  And what develops?  Not pride, certainly.  No, for if we bear fruit, it is by His tending to our growth.  If there is good in us, it is because He is working that good.  Are we then to be passive in this process, simply accepting and receiving what God is doing, and making no effort of our own?  By no means!  We will come to it soon enough, but we know it lies ahead.  “Work out your salvation with fear and trembling” (Php 2:12-13), but do so in the knowledge that God is working in you, else you’d never so much as lift a finger.  New moral habits will not develop without effort, any more than skills with an instrument, or in the kitchen, or in any other pursuit you choose, will develop and increase without effort.  So, let’s be about it.

And here is a new challenge, courtesy of the JFB.  That commentary advises, “Ask as to things, not merely, is there no harm? But is there any good?  And which is best?”  This comes of that call to approve what is truly excellent.  Approval of excellence won’t come of settling for the acceptable.  I read often, of late, about those who are quiet-quitting their jobs, determined to do the minimum to get by.  Oh!  I’m not going to let my employers take advantage of me, no sir!  I’m going to beat the system.  But, of course, such a response rapidly moves beyond merely preserving one’s reasonable expectations, and moves straight on into exploitation.  I may not let them take advantage of me, but I am most assuredly taking advantage of them.  It’s one thing, after all, to insist that you won’t be working past your agreed to hours.  But it’s something quite different to spend those hours you did agree to doing as little as possible.  Here is the call of your Master.  “Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men…  It is the Lord Christ whom you serve” (Col 3:23-24).  It is the Lord Christ who signs your paycheck.  That used to resonate more, I suppose, back when I would actually see the paycheck and take it to the bank.  In an age of direct deposit, it requires a bit more purposeful focus to bear that in mind.  But it plays right back into that being a peacemaker, into perceiving the interruptions of work as opportunity to help rather than disruption of concentration.

Mind you, it was something of a delight last Friday to find a stretch of uninterrupted focus from morning straight through lunch.  How much easier!  How much more productive.  How much more peaceful to just be me and my tools, pursuing the goal with unimpeded effort.  Be that as it may, the question remains as each event of the day comes about.  What am I doing?  Is it the best use of my time?  Is there any good in it at all?  Truth be told, far too much of my day is frittered away in pursuit of idleness and distractions.  Oh, I can call it pacing myself, and perhaps up to a point that even fits.  But I know too well the spiritual impact, the deadening of drive, the exhaustion of seeking to avoid boredom by being bored more actively.  No, there are better things.  There are active, positive goods.  Even amongst my various pursuits and enjoyments, there are certainly those I could choose which are better, if not best.  And today being Saturday, I know too well just how readily I can slide into taking a break that becomes the whole day, only to arrive at day’s end disappointed that I didn’t find better use for my time.  Oh, my wife will encourage.  It’s good.  You have rested.  But no, I haven’t really.  I’ve idled, stalled out, even, and left undone the things I could have done with the time granted me by my loving God.  There is a rest to be had in certain activities that look an awful lot like work, but aren’t really.  Or perhaps my own perspective needs adjusting.

Well, Lord, You know.  Increase my knowledge and my wisdom that I might indeed choose what is best in the choices of my day.  There are habits that need shedding, to be sure, but I suspect there is balance as well.  Let me not be so addicted to my amusements, but neither let me be more addicted to my doings.  Help me to walk according to Your pattern, to concern myself with Your concerns, to walk in accordance with Your plans, even in these off hours.  For I am Yours, and I would be more so.