Hard Providences (01/01/25)

Paul begins to discuss events in his life which we would count as being hard providences.  Here he was in jail, at his own expense, for running on four years now.  And why?  Not for any crime he had committed.  Indeed, he must have known two years ago that he could have been set at liberty back in Caesarea, the governor there recognizing that there was in fact no crime to be punished.  His ministry was not, as he notes, quashed, but certainly, he faced restrictions, if only in his movements.  But he was faithfully bearing this cross of confinement, and not only bearing it, but continuing his work in the midst of it.  Still, it was indeed a hard providence.  Paul’s life had been full of them since he met Jesus.  And he had been informed from the outset that this would be the case.  “For I will show him how much he must suffer for My name’s sake” (Ac 9:16).  He did not take this as meaning he alone must suffer so, but recognized quite clearly that this was the norm for Christian life.  And it is clear that as he lived so he preached.  He would not have his children in the faith misled into supposing this newfound faith meant everything would be wonderful henceforth.  It will be, as it must now culminate in an eternity spent in the immediate presence of our Savior.  But as concerns this present existence in a world under the heels of a usurping enemy ruler, no.  There will be tribulations.

I wonder how often you have heard a pastor preach on this point.  It’s not the stuff of evangelizing.  It’s not the sort of thing that will get folks stirred up and responding to the altar call.  But it’s a truth we need to hear, and not just hear, but take to heart.  “In the world you have tribulation, but fear not, I have overcome the world” (Jn 16:33).  Notice.  His victory does not change the immediate.  He has overcome, but you will have tribulation.  This world is not our home, and when we lose sight of that, the trials of life may rather confuse us.  And I know it’s a passage I’ve been referring to a lot through these studies, but only because it is apt.  “Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God” (Ac 14:22).  And that was Paul’s great encouragement to the disciples, that they would continue in the faith.

It seems such an odd encouragement.  But to those who are already facing tribulations, how needful the notice that these are not evidence of misplaced faith, or of faith insufficiently held.  They are the promised and expected outcome.  But only in the world.  And our time in the world, though it may seem long at times, is but a blip on a mote of dust in the expanse of eternity.  It’s a perspective we need to gain, one which Paul emphasized to the church in Corinth.  “For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison” (2Co 4:17).  We were discussing this yesterday in our morning men’s group.  This is the same Paul writing.  The same Paul who had been stoned, beaten, incarcerated repeatedly for the mere crime of proclaiming the Truth.  Even in his moment of conversion there had been affliction, as he was blinded for a season, and it seems, if we read between the lines a bit, that his eyes were never fully recovered from that time forward.  Hard providence indeed, that.

I recall my father, when first he had completed seminary and become a minister of the church, facing the death of my mother as she succumbed to cancer.  And I know my own thoughts at the time were largely thinking, my, that’s some kind of god you serve, isn’t it?  This is your reward for entering into his service?  No thanks, man.  But he was undeterred, though I know he took particular solace from the book of Job, felt, I suspect a certain kinship with that man.  Hard providence.  And he watched his sons drift, seemingly all of us, with no faith and very little that we might account as upstanding living.  I suppose Bob might have claimed some form of morality in his earliest pursuits of biomedicine at least.  But then, I see there an entire absence of forgiveness.  John?  Not much to work with there.  I mean, he has his points of being a responsible son to his father in old age, but not really a great deal more.  And in neither case has Christian faith, or faith of any sort, recognizably religious, had a part in their shaping.  Me?  Well, hardly a paragon, am I?  Yet, somehow, by the grace of God, I have been made His child, and have, I hope, grown not only in soaking up knowledge as best I can, but in being shaped by the Word and the Spirit into a better man than I was.

But these challenges of life; we don’t like them in the least, and I don’t suppose accounting them God’s providence really alters the situation all that much.  It should, but it doesn’t.  Calvin observes, in this regard, that we are generally okay with hearing a sermon about bearing our cross.  I mean, it’s there in Scripture, right?  We kind of have to accept that.  But in truth, when it comes to bearing our cross in real terms?  That’s a very different thing.  We’re looking for the exit.  Or, when we perceive another bowed down under the weight of the cross they are called to bear, it rather offends our senses.  Something must be wrong there, that they are dealing with that kind of thing.  Surely, if they would just get their house in order, then such trials would cease to come their way.  But that’s the advice of Job’s ostensible friends, not the counsel of Scripture.

As to that matter of perspective I mentioned, how even being aware of God’s management of our circumstances does not really shift our feelings about those circumstances so very much, I have to say it should.  I’m quite sure I’ve said this, or something similar, before.  But as much as we cling to passages such as Romans 8:28 with its assurance that all things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purpose, there are times when we must hear Jesus asking, “Do you believe this?”  And like Martha, we answer, “I know it.”  But that’s not what He asked.  Very good, you know your Scriptures.  You can, perhaps, recite Psalm 23, or at least John 3:16.  But do you believe it?  Because if you do, then your view of these hard providences must surely shift.  You must come to the place where it’s no longer, “Why me, Lord?” and is instead, “What’s my purpose in this, Lord?”  What can I do to glorify You in the midst of this?

It requires that we cease looking at the instruments of our persecution, and look instead to the hand of God Who is directing events.  To stick with Calvin a bit longer, His hand is ‘making His own unconquerable and triumphant.’  It may not look that way in the moment.  Joseph in the prison cell did not look triumphant.  He looked rather conquered, to be honest.  Though perhaps we would look upon his behavior while imprisoned as evidence that though afflicted, he was not crushed (2Co 4:8).  What of Job, since I have mentioned him already?  Talk about a man ‘afflicted in every way,’ persecuted by Satan himself, and struck down!  Yet, he was not crushed by his afflictions.  He may have drawn near to despair, was certainly encouraged to do so by his own wife.  He was not forsaken by God, even if his best counsel from his friends insisted he must have been.  No!  In the midst of such enormous and persistent trials, he proclaims, “As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last He will take His stand on the earth, and even after my flesh is destroyed, yet from my flesh I shall see God, whom I myself will, whom my eyes will see and not another.  My heart faints within me” (Job 19:25-27).  That is a man in the midst of greatest trials holding firm in faith.

We, on the other hand, may tend to view such situations with the same mindset as his friends.  Surely, this must mean he is no friend of God.  Would God really treat His friends like this, or permit them to face such things?  But that is the mindset of the materialist.  Blessings, for such a one, consist in worldly pleasures and peace means little beyond prosperity in this life.  Or, if we succeed in getting past that hurdle, we may find the circumstances of a brother bearing his cross after the fashion of Paul’s current predicament to be a cautionary tale in regard to our own efforts in ministry.  If this is what boldness gets you, perhaps a bit more circumspection is in order on our part, eh?  When pastors are going to prison for the crime of keeping their churches open when the government insisted they close, well, maybe we should just go along with the program, live to fight another day, as it were.  If the world so hates Christians, perhaps it would be best if we kept quiet about our Christian faith.  And that, I fear, is largely the state of affairs in the Western church today.  What would those who faced the persecutions of those earliest years of the church think of us?  We have a pretty good idea, honestly.  When the persecutions ceased, and those who had fled to preserve their lives came back seeking readmission to the body of Christ, it was a bit of a crisis for those who had remained.  Really?  Welcome them back?  Those who preferred their fleshly security to bold stands for the gospel?  Eventually they were reconciled, but I would venture there were always those doubts clouding relations thereafter.

But I was struck by this point Calvin makes, which is largely the point I have been making (and largely because he brought it up.)  Here was the great risk that Paul saw as regarded the work of the kingdom.  He was such a force, by God’s grace, in bringing about the blossoming of the church throughout the provinces.  And yet, in Jerusalem, his own kinsmen had not only rejected him, but sought his death.  And the government, whatever one might think of it, had sent him off to Rome in chains to face trial.  Now, how much anybody knew of the circumstances involved, and how much of that was accurate, is not something we can really know from this distance.  Clearly, Luke put effort into setting the record straight as he conveyed the history of the movement in Acts.  But that would come later.  How could he have had time and opportunity to research that history when he was still busy attending to Paul?  Would his notes have survived that shipwreck on the way to Rome?  I rather doubt it.

So, Paul recognizes the danger.  News of his predicament could readily lead others to avoid risking similar fates.  Few, and I would venture none that account themselves as Christians, would actively seek to be hated.  It’s not in our nature, really.  As social animals, if you’ll forgive the phrase, we wish to belong, to be accepted.  That is so much a force at play in modern life.  What, after all, is the power of the cancel-culture mobs?  We can ostracize you!  We can turn public opinion against you.  And we wonder at the rise in suicides.  What’s to be wondered?  When life reduces to a constant concern lest some idle word, some slip of the tongue, or unapproved opinion leads to this flood-tide of condemnation, who wants to keep dealing with it?  So, you have two choices.  Clam up, or head for the exits.  Well, Calvin doesn’t pursue the issues of suicide, which I would suspect is because it wasn’t much of an issue at the time.  But as for this propensity for self-preservation and seeking to remain socially acceptable, even if it means piping down about this Christianity business?  “Such are the usual artifices of Satan.”  I was really struck by that because it does so aptly describe online 4culture, which is, by and large, cancel culture, or at least the engine that drives that culture.  Without the amplifying effects of life online, these attempts to destroy another’s life would hardly matter.  But with that effect?  The results rapidly escalate to the point of being inescapable.  And what is left then but rage and despair?  After all, this is a culture that has no conception of forgiveness, no possibility of restoration.  Once ejected, forever ejected.

Now, our hard providences may not have quite that look to them.  We may be facing others sorts of trials, be they matters of health, or family members that are not only disinterested in faith, but actively, vociferously opposed to it.  We may be facing conflict at work or conflict even in the church.  We may be dealing with strained relations with other believers because of any number of differences in our views.  We may know concern for the faith of a loved one, given the directions their beliefs have taken.  We may agonize over one nearing death who still stubbornly refuses to come to saving faith.  And there, in particular, we face a truly hard providence, for we must, in the end, conclude that if they will not come to saving faith it is because they cannot; it is because this is, in fact, God’s determination.  And that can be very difficult to accept when the one rejected is family.

But as concerns Paul’s hard providences in this instance, we see again the truth of Joseph played out.  “You meant this for evil, but God meant it for good” (Ge 50:20).  His enemies were sure they had put the kibosh on his ministry with this handing him over to Rome’s tender mercies.  But, as Matthew Henry observes, by God’s determination, it had only served to spread the gospel further.  And that ‘strange chemistry of Providence,’ as he describes it, is the message Paul wants to make sure they know.  “Yes, I am in prison.  But don’t look at that.  Look at what God is doing!”  The cause of Christ is being made known to the whole guard, here, even into the house of Caesar.  He himself will be hearing the gospel, if he has not already, for if I am on trial, then I am granted my defense, and my defense is the gospel.  Imagine!  Imagine the opportunity that had been handed Paul to make Christ known to this captive audience while he was captive.  How else would such an opportunity arise?  And who would have imagined that this was how God would orchestrate the fulfillment of His mission in Paul?  “He is a chosen instrument of Mine, to bear My name before the Gentiles and kings and the sons of Israel” (Ac 9:15).  And here he was, with that very occasion set before him.  Despair?  Far from it!  Here was cause to rejoice.  God, Who had seen him through thus far, was with him yet, and would yet do great things, however He chose to do them.

What an apt reminder to begin the new year.  He Who has done great things is still doing so.  He Who has held us fast thus far will continue to do so.  Whatever this new year may have in store for us, our God is with us, and has still those things He has prepared in advance that we might do them.  “Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, lest we forget – lest we forget.”  It may have been written for the fallen soldiers of Britain, but it is a word for us today.  He is with us yet, and shall be, Lo, even to the end of the age.  Take courage.

God's Purposes (01/02/25)

As with Joseph, so with Paul.  The circumstances looked terrible on the face of things.  Both had found themselves imprisoned and facing a very real potential of death.  Both, in their different ways, were dependent upon the ruler of an empire for any hope of release, at least so far as the physical realm goes.  Both depended on God, trusted Him, and set themselves to live godly, pursuing His ways and His purposes, even in such a situation as they faced.  This is a key learning for us.  Come what may, serve God.  Isn’t this Paul’s constant encouragement to the churches?  Remain steadfast in your faith.  “Only conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ” (Php 1:27).  We shall come in due course to that passage, and the gift of suffering.  But for now, let us stick with the passage before us.

“My circumstances have turned out for the greater progress of the gospel.”  There is God’s purpose in this.  Paul, you’re not here by accident.  You’re not here because God lost track of you.  You’re here because this is where you are needed.  This is where the gospel is to make progress.  How we need to lay hold of this in our own turn!  The events of this life don’t come by accident.  They don’t demonstrate that our faith is weak, or that our God is weak.  They certainly do nothing to confirm that the enemy of our soul is still on his stolen throne.  I mean, we know that anyway, but we also know the One Who determines how long he shall be granted to remain there.

What we don’t know is precisely what Paul’s circumstances were at the time he wrote.  We know a fair amount.  We know, certainly, that he is yet in prison, and we know that being thus confined, he is under guard at all times.  Beyond that, the picture gets a bit murkier.  Fausset and friends posit that Paul has already made some defense before the court, and that it is to this that he refers here.  They further present some history to support the idea that at this juncture he is no longer enjoying the relative liberty of house arrest, but has actually been taken to a prison within the Praetorian barracks beside the palace of the emperor.  They even go so far as to name names as to who was in charge there at the time, noting an animosity towards Paul in the person of the new prefect.  That’s as may be.  I find it a caution, though, that no other commenter on the text concurs.

What does seem to be generally accepted is that Paul has been spending his days and nights physically chained to his guard.  They were witness to those who came to visit.  They sat through his discussions with the local Jewish leaders and with the local Christian leaders.  They heard everything he wrote to the churches.  Think about that!  There could be no secrets here.  I am quite sure that, when those Jewish leaders came, they were required to keep their conversation in the common Koine Greek of the realm, in order that no connivance could transpire.  And we know that Paul dictated his letters.  Even had he not, I feel quite sure any correspondence he sent would be read before it was permitted to go, likewise any correspondence that came to him.  What is perhaps most surprising is that the gift sent by the Philippians would appear to have reached him unmolested.  For that, too, must have been required to pass inspection, and it seems to me that the Romans were somewhat notorious for their expectation of bribes.  Some things, it seems, never change.

But whatever the case, those who had power over Paul were obliged to hear his doctrines, interested or not.  And the Gospel, as ever, is the power to save.  Interested or not, the Gospel was being heard, and that repeatedly.  Not only was it being heard, but it was being observed as to its impact on the life and character of those who believed.  Paul was certainly primary case in point.  The guard would have known, surely, of his actions while on the ships that brought him to Rome, and in particular, during the harrowing days that led to shipwreck.  They could see, as well, the concerns of those with whom he met and corresponded, that they were all to do with uprightness of character.  They could hear and read his advice to those churches, and perceive quite clearly that far from being any threat to civic order, these were model citizens in every regard.

Now, we can add to this that the contingent in the barracks by the palace were not a permanent group.  Neither was there one guard in charge of Paul throughout his years in Rome.  Indeed, it’s unlikely there was one guard through the day.  So, many were hearing and seeing the doctrines of Christianity and their effect.  And the troops in the barracks would, in due course, rotate out to the main camp outside the city, and other units take their place.  Word was spreading.  It didn’t take a targeted program of the church to do outreach to the local military base.  It didn’t even take a directed effort on Paul’s part to evangelize his guards.  So far as we can observe, they were more bystanders than direct audience for Paul’s preaching.  Now, it may well be that they had their times of private conversation, given that they were obliged to remain so closely quartered.  I don’t suppose there was any command requiring the guards to remain silent and aloof.  But the bulk of their information as regards this Christian and his friends were coming through observation, through overhearing, through experience of them that demonstrated over and over again that not only did they proclaim these things, they believed them.  And not only did they believe them, they lived them.

That, I suspect, gave them a leg up on the average Roman.  The Romans had plenty of gods, and plenty of them observed some degree of adherence to one or more of those gods, giving offerings at this temple and that in hopes that maybe, just maybe something might come of it.  But belief?  That’s a broader question.  Superstition may look like belief, but it’s never clear just how much actual belief pertains, and how much is just fear or wish-casting.  I suspect they could tell that this was something different than the sort of pieties they might observe in their fellow soldiers or in the citizenry at large.  Those sought more to appease and manipulate their gods.  These sought to obey, to live godly, to demonstrate their faith in actions suited to their beliefs.  Wonderful!  Amazing, really.

And news was spreading because people talk.  Soldiers around their mess would exchange stories as to what their days had brought their way.  Certainly, those changes of guard involved with Paul would exchange whatever notes as to their prisoner’s conduct.  But where the message was gaining a hearing, no doubt it would lead to discussions around the campfire, as it were.  Whatever the specifics, we know word was spreading, both as to the uprightness of Paul’s character and as to the doctrines of this Christian faith, to the point that Paul speaks of this gospel becoming ‘well known throughout the Praetorian.’  Now, we have disagreement over whether he means the courthouse, the barracks, the wider military force of the guard, or what exactly.  But news of the gospel was spreading, and with it, saving faith, or, in the case of those already brought to saving faith, a greater courage to not just stand fast in faith, but to boldly proclaim that faith.

I love Ironside’s synopsis of the case.  “The prison cell in Rome became a gospel chapel.”  Paul didn’t complain of his situation, he made use of it.  He was, after all, God’s man.  And he knew, beyond doubt, that he was called to be here, called to present the gospel before kings, and of all kings, here was the chief one of the era, set to hear his case.  And, oh, would he hear it!  Bengel, we are informed, writes in response to this passage, “Faith takes in a favorable light even what seems adverse.”  We need to stop being victims of circumstance.  We need to stop being so emotionally captivated by circumstance.  Too often, we measure our success and our joy by the quality of our situation.  If things are going well, we are joyful and excited.  If they are not, we are grumbling and snapping at everybody.  That needs to stop.

Take it into the realm of ministry, and it gets worse.  We stand up to preach or to teach, and we measure our worth by the response we see.  Now, to some degree that is clearly inevitable.  Who can long stand to keep talking and encouraging a roomful of unresponsive people?  And who will not gain energy when that roomful of people proves to be engaged and attentive?  Musicians often speak of that almost spiritual feedback between band and audience.  Comedians, as well, are influenced to greater performance when the crowd is eating things up.  But let it be said that if the crowd isn’t responding, that’s not direct evidence that the material was poor, or the presenter inept.

If it’s true of such prosaic pursuits as arts, surely it holds true all the more for those who present the gospel.  The power of the gospel, after all, is in its message, not in the eloquence of the presenter.  That’s not to say we can skip the preparations and just wing it, hoping for the best.  This is not how we serve God.  But we serve God by obeying Him, by speaking what He would have us to speak to whom He would have us to speak in the manner in which He would have us to speak.  And we trust Him for the result.  We cannot know the result a priori.  And in many cases, we can’t even know the real result posteriori.  Oh, we can watch the immediate response.  We can, maybe, take the measure of how many come forward, or raise their hands, or what have you.  But what comes of it a month from now?  How many even remember?  Or, on the other side of the coin, how many, though they seemed impassive at the time, were in fact being deeply affected, and as such, are bearing fruit about which we simply don’t know?

The sum of it is this:  The gospel goes forth.  It doesn’t go forth in spite of circumstances, as we so often tend to see things.  No.  It goes forth because of the circumstances.  God has us right where He wants us.  That is always true for the believer.  I suppose it is just as true for the unbeliever, just not to their advantage.  This is a lesson I would do well to take to heart in my own case.  Even as I write this morning, my thoughts travel back over that recent trip to Africa, and I see just how readily I fall into measuring how good a job I was doing based on what I could see in the room at the time.  Wrong measuring system, that.  I don’t know.  For all I know, the greater impact was in Zambia after all, though it certainly didn’t seem so at the time.  For all I know, the excitement in the house in Lesotho may fade and come to naught.  I pray not, and honestly, from what I could sense of God’s working in me, I don’t believe it to be the case.  But I cannot claim to know.  God knows.

I come back to this, which I wrote back in April.  “The candle is lit, and God supplies the wind.”  That’s our job, to light the candle.  I think of the young man, son of one of our dear brothers in the church, who has just received word that his days are short indeed, perhaps a month, perhaps not even a week.  And for years, even through the bulk of his battle with cancer, he has insisted that no, he does not believe in Christ, but rather holds to some old Nordic deity.  Ah, the hubris of youth.  But word comes yesterday that finally, with the imminent risk of last chance, he has prayed the sinner’s prayer and accepted Jesus.  And I pray, certainly, that this was a true acceptance.  I pray God has been that merciful that at last, faith has come to this young man.  But as ever, we can only assess the evidence we can see, and we cannot see the true state of the heart.  Only God can do so.  Even for our own case we have more than enough difficulty perceiving the validity of our faith.  But God assures.  And the Holy Spirit testifies to our spirit that indeed, we are His and He is at work.  And the fruit of righteousness grows, that we might have some visible reassurance as well.

Let us, then, be satisfied.  The candle is lit.  It is lit in our own souls, and it is lit in those to whom we have been faithful to proclaim the truth of God.  For some, that has been a work of evangelization.  For others, it is a work of discipling.  For most, it is likely little more than seeking to live as we believe, and of being ready to apologize and seek forgiveness on those myriad occasions when we fall short.  Don’t mistake steadfast faith with perfection.  Faith is steadfast even when it stumbles, because in stumbling, it doesn’t find cause to give up, but rather gets up in the strength of the Lord and gets back to it.  Leave it to God to fan the flames or blow them out as He determines.  You?  Be faithful to light those candles.

Father, as I prepare myself to present somewhat the same training for our own church as You have had me presenting overseas, let me take today’s lesson to heart.  Grant that I may teach with the same reliance upon You as I did there.  Grant that I may not be overly moved by the visible response, but simply hold true to the direction You give me.  And may you be pleased to fan the flames of deeper engagement with Your Word and with Yourself through these lessons.

Faith's Response (01/03/25)

In conveying news of his situation, Paul is doing more than seeking to comfort the concerns of his friends.  There is nothing of boasting to it, but rather a strong encouragement.  It somewhat puts me in mind of that commissioning of the Apostles to proclaim the Gospel in Jerusalem, in Judea, and to the ends of the world.  It begins with the seed of Paul and his perspective on his circumstances.  He does not look upon his imprisonment as some wrong done him by God.  It is an injustice, certainly, but on the part of those Jews who had made it necessary for him to appeal to Rome when he could have been freed years ago.  But his concern is not for flesh and bone so much as for being faithful to God’s purposes.  Elsewhere, in writing to the church in Ephesus, he observes, “I am an ambassador in chains” (Eph 6:20).  And we see there the same perspective, the same resolve that he maintains here.  “May I speak boldly, as I ought.”  It’s not a time to draw inward.  It’s not a cause for self-pity.  It’s an opportunity.  His is a perspective that holds fundamentally to the fact that God has him in this situation for a reason, and that reason is not for his punishment, it’s for the furtherance of the Gospel.

I don’t recall which translation it was that offered the reading, but from my prior notes, I see that one had offered, “My chains are in Christ.”  He is the cause for which I am imprisoned.  It is not for some crime against religion or against the state.  It is not even, at base, because of the machinations of his enemies.  Christ has him here because that’s where Christ wants him.  Thus, he recognizes that his sufferings are for Christ.  They are to a purpose.  They are not pointless pains and sorrows, but rather, are occasions for the power of God to be evident.  This is not punishment, then.  It is opportunity.  As I wrote on that prior occasion, this is a framework we need to develop for ourselves.  It is a different worldview, and as with any worldview, it governs how we interpret the events of life.  Are your trials a reason to pine away, crying, “Woe is me!” or are they a setup, putting you in place to do something you could not otherwise have done in service to your King?

We see this over and over again, particularly in the lives of the Apostles, but certainly not exclusively so.  There is a nobility to this suffering.  That is not to say that suffering in every case is noble, and that we ought to seek out ways to suffer.  Martyrdom may come, but it is not something to be actively sought.  Yes, there have been periods in Christian history where many thought this the thing to do.  Rome is slaughtering Christians?  Let us boldly proclaim our Lord that we may die for Him!  There’s a certain honor to it, I will accept.  But there is also a certain degree of foolishness to it.  Or am I merely too weak to accept the idea that this was truly noble?  No.  It was noble, I think, at least for most.  Nobody was doing this to make a name for themselves, and if they were, well, they failed.  Most would die nameless, forgotten in short order, other than as one of myriad other unknown heroes of the faith.

Let me generalize that just a bit.  Nobody ever became a hero of the faith by seeking to become one.  Those we most honor are not honored because they sought a following, or labored after fame.  Most, if not all, would be highly embarrassed by the recognition that they enjoy even to this day.  They would be pleased, I am sure, to see how fruitful their efforts have been, in that they continue to encourage and guide the church these centuries later.  But for a name?  For a statue?  No!  “My chains are in Christ.”  I am an ambassador.  That is the heart of the servant of God.  I am doing my job.  I am faithful to my Lord.  As Paul would write elsewhere, I am compelled to preach this gospel.  Even if it means suffering, I am compelled.  And if there is suffering as I preach this gospel, I know this:  That suffering is itself noble.

This, I think, is the thing that attracted those anxious seekers of martyrdom in days gone by.  There is in fact a nobility to suffering for the cause of Christ.  It is an evidence all its own that faith is real.  “Remember what I said to you, ‘A slave is not greater than his master.’  If they persecuted Me, they will also persecute you.  If they kept My word, they will also keep yours.  And they will do this because of My name, because they don’t know the One who sent Me” (Jn 15:20-21).  Somehow, and I see it even with my own memory, it is the persecution half of this promise that sticks.  They will persecute you because you are Mine.  But observe that there is the obverse as well.  They who obey will obey you because you are Mine.  Still, there is nobility in that suffering which comes solely because of our obedience.

And so, we have Paul’s example.  As I said, it’s sort of the equivalent of Jerusalem in that commission given the Apostles.  Here is how I have faced my suffering.  It is an opportunity for the Gospel.  And we see that everywhere he has gone.  Imprisoned, in a rather amazing parallel, in Philippi for preaching the gospel, what did he do?  Did he cry out against the injustice of it?  Only when they sought to brush their crime under the rug and let him go in secret.  But in the meantime, he and Silas were having a little worship service there in the cell, singing praises to God even in the midst of their dilemma.  And God moved powerfully in that praise.  Stoned and left for dead, he just picks himself up and moves on to the next town to begin again.  Chased out of Macedonia, he begins preaching in Achaia.  And on, and on, and on.  And through it all, he sees nothing but opportunity for God to show himself strong when he himself is weakest.

Now, he moves on to observe the impact this is having locally.  Let us call it the Judea step.  The Gospel is becoming known amongst the guard.  How could it not, given they had to listen to him day after day?  But it was finding reception both because the Gospel is itself the power to save, and because the examples they had set before them in Paul, in his coworkers, in his visitors, consistently demonstrated a real effect, an inward effect fully in concord with outward action, that set this faith quite apart from any other they had encountered.  Here was something real, and it was clear that these believers were experiencing real effect of belonging to God.  But he looks farther.  Because of my imprisonment, most of the believers here in Rome are more courageous to preach without fear (v14).  They see Paul, and they see that he is freely preaching.  They see that, though still imprisoned, there has been no rebuke or retribution for his doing so.  And so, whatever fears may have held them back from preaching before have been belayed.

It’s a wonder, isn’t it?  Surely, those back in Jerusalem who had sought to put an end to Paul thought they had at least in some wise succeeded.  He may not have been put to death, in spite of their schemes to do so.  But he was at least in prison.  And though they did not follow him to Rome to level their accusations again, yet they knew him imprisoned and facing the emperor’s decision.  Given the recent expulsion of the Jews from Rome by his predecessor, they might well have thought this a death sentence in its own right.  And had it come about a few years later, it likely would have been.  But they didn’t control the timing.  Neither did Festus or Felix.  Certainly not Paul himself.  This was God’s timing to have God’s man in the place of God’s choosing at the time of God’s choosing.  And all, because by His plan and purpose, this would result in further blossoming of the seed of the Church.  And Paul sees it, at least in part.  Word is spreading, right here in the heart of the empire, even into the very household of Caesar!  And along with the Word is the evidence of acceptance of this faith, even within the halls of power. 

Far from quelling the spread of this new sect, as they viewed it, they had instigated its growth.  And there was something Paul had done himself in earlier years.  He had been part of that persecution which first led to the believers leaving the dangers of Jerusalem and carrying the Gospel out to places like Antioch, which had eventually been the launching point for Paul’s own ministry.  I wonder if he had ever pondered the glorious irony in that.  He had, by his opposition, planted the very seeds that became the sending church for his own ministry.  And now, here he was in Rome, chained but preaching, planting more seeds for Christ, and who knew what might grow?  But that it was growing already was evident.

And so, he writes to his friends back in Philippi.  Yes, there is something here of salving their concerns.  “I want you to know how this is turning out, what God is doing through this.”  And a large part of this, as becomes evident as the letter proceeds, consists in making it clear that God is with Paul, and for Paul, that’s all that matters.  Circumstances are just that.  What results is what you make of those circumstances, and what you make of them will largely depend on your submission to God and seeking His purposes.  And so, he writes.  “I want you to know.”  God is on the move, and marvelously so.  Fear not!

Was there suffering back in Philippi?  Perhaps so, though we read nothing directly to suggest that this was the case.  Certainly, we can perceive that Judaism itself was not particularly welcome there, and to the degree that Christianity was still perceived as just a variant Judaism, I suppose they felt that intolerance as well.  But things were changing, or so it seemed.  If there was acceptance in Rome, there would be acceptance in Philippi as well in due course.  Mind you, we know this was a temporary acceptance in this instance, and long years of suffering and persecution lay ahead.  Of course, God knew this as well, and so, we might well view Paul’s suffering and his letters from that place of suffering for Christ as preparation for what would come.  After all, these things were written for our benefit, who live at the end of the age.  I must be remembering the phrasing wrongly, for I cannot find the reference this morning.  The point remains, though.  God knows what lies ahead, and sees to it that His people are prepared for it.  That does not necessarily mean that He informs them of every detail, nor of the timing.  It only means that when the time comes, we will find that we have been equipped to face it and to do so honorably, to the glory of God.

So, here is that news, that impact of suffering, spreading to the ends of the earth.  There is, after all, another aspect to this knowing.  We are not, after all, looking at some variant of oida.  This is not inferring from the evidence.  It is ginosko, knowledge experienced.  “Know this intimately.”  It seems to me that when we encounter this form of knowing, there’s a sense of, “Make this part of you.”  Knit this into your character.  Of course, only God can truly manage that, but He does so in a cooperative effort with us, at least in the general case.  Yes, there are occasions where God rather forcibly makes knowledge a part of you, the prime example being that coming of knowledge that permitted of belief in the first place.  We associate that more with faith, but faith and knowing walk hand in hand.  Without knowing, faith is mere opinion at best, vain imagination at base.

But here is invitation, invitation to join in the work that is ongoing.  I want you to know my situation, but in doing so, I want you to see God’s work.  Then, you can look at your own situation and expect to see God’s work there as well.  You can trust God to work!  Will suffering come?  Undoubtedly.  Our Lord has promised as much.  But it is not pointless.  It is not arbitrary.  God is not capricious.  Whatever the intent of those by whom suffering has come, God is in fact working it for good (Ro 8:28).  He is, to be absolutely certain, working for His own glory.  But in so doing, He is working for your good.  It may not look it in the midst, but you will see it in the outcome.  Here is a message that is needful in every generation.  For the situation really hasn’t changed.  The ruler of this present age continues to oppose the advance of the kingdom in any way he can.  It cannot, in the end, prove effective, but it sure can prove painful.  And it is entirely evident that the larger portion of humanity will continue in its rebellion against the rightful reign of Christ.  “He came to His own, and those who were His own did not receive Him” (Jn 1:11).  We tend to take that as referring to the Jews, but it is just as applicable to one and all today.  For, “apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being” (Jn 1:3).  And if that is the case, that He created all, then all are His own, whether they prove willing to acknowledge that fact or not.

So let us learn from Paul’s example, as he intends.  Let us come to possess a like worldview, a like framework by which to interpret the events of life.  For I feel I can assure you that you will experience trials of faith; you will experience tribulations.  They may not always come as clear and obvious opposition to your attempting to do the Lord’s work, but even those more tangential assaults, as they may seem to be, come to dissuade and distract.  See them for what they are.  And then bring to mind that even in this mess, even in these attempts to close you down and turn you aside, God is present and in control.  However hard the providence, yet it comes from God’s hand, and it does so in service to God’s purposes.  Ask not, “Why me?”  Ask, “What would You have me do?”  And then, whatever it is He calls you to do, do so from the place of contentment.  Paul will address that later on, this issue of contentment.  But it rests on this fundamental:  God is with me.  Whatever it is I face, I face it as one resting in Christ.  And in that place of rest, I can labor in confidence, gaining courage from His presence.  And if, God willing, we should lay hold of that confidence and courage, we shall find that indeed, it preserves against fear.

Look at that result once again.   They see me.  They see my situation, but they see my example.  And they see what God is accomplishing through it all.  And so, they have “far more courage to speak the word of God without fear.”  What’s holding you back?  What’s holding me back?  Do we fear the rejection?  Do we fear repercussions for being so bold as to speak freely of faith?  When we face our loved ones and have opportunity to give defense for the hope that is in us, do we do so, or have we grown reticent, knowing, or at least expecting, rejection and ridicule?  When we are faced with a brother or sister whose beliefs are straying from Truth, do we feel confident to bring loving correction, or do we hold back, fearing that we may instead find ourselves bashing and belittling?  Oh, we are painfully aware of our weakness, of our propensity for screwing things up.  The question is, then, are we still trying to do these things in our own strength and wisdom, or are we turning to God?

Paul, had he relied on his own learning, would have failed utterly in these circumstances.  Had he relied on his own street smarts, it’s doubtful he would have succeeded with any of his church plants.  We are certainly no better than him.  But we are equal on this point.  God is with us, and that is all that matters.  If we will but come to rest and rely on that, and to turn to God to guide and empower, then we, too, will find ourselves able to write as he writes.  See that my situation has been to the gain of the gospel.  I can tell you of my pains, but let me tell you of God’s gains.  Those are way more interesting.  And as we read of these who have done great things for God, let it not be for the purpose of hero worship, but rather that we might ourselves be stirred to greater effort, greater willingness to risk doing big things for God, even if they are done in small ways.

I want to end this study by revisiting the prayer I prayed some months back, when I first came through these verses.  On that occasion, I prayed, “I ask that You would so work in me, that I would work in You, boldly and gladly, with no thought as to consequences.  That is, after all, the call.  Help me to answer as I ought.  Keep me faithful to Your purposes, and let my love for You both grow and show.   Help me tune out the noise.”  I feel that I have had some answer to this prayer, though it remains a prayer most needful.  Perhaps this is a part of what God was working in me as I went about serving Him over in southern Africa.  There is a vast difference to be seen in what comes of it when you are just doing what you think best, and what comes of it when you feel your weakness, your inadequacy, and truly turn to God to work in you.

Now, I have another opportunity before me, to teach much the same material again, but this time, in the context of our local church.  Certainly, that means adapting my materials and my approach to suit this people in this place.  But there is also the matter of familiarity.  There’s something about being in an unknown setting, facing people you may not see again, or if you do, it’ll be maybe for a few days a year.  You can be perhaps a bit bolder where you are not known.  More, amongst people you have known for years and will be with weekly, there may be a stronger urge to prove oneself, to play on expectations, or to try and show your skills.  I shall have need to remember the lessons learned overseas; to prepare, yes, but to be prepared to follow my Father’s lead, and leave the driving to Him.

So, I shall pray once again.  Would You work in me, that I may indeed work in You, boldly, thoughtless as to consequences, and thoughtless as to my own ideas and goals.  Father, as in Lesotho, so here.  I shall endeavor to prepare, but I desire to minister not from my preparation, but from Your direction.  Keep me faithful to Your purpose.  Use these upcoming classes as You will, to deliver what You would have delivered, and as I serve You in this capacity, let my love for You be evident, and my reliance upon You be manifest and effective.  And in all things, Lord, even today, help me to tune out the noise.

So much noise!  And so much of it, I invite in, seemingly to distract myself.  I know it.  I know it is a place that needs work, and also a place I feel rather helpless to change.  Well, I am helpless to change.  But I am not without help.  My God is with me.  If change is to come, He shall work it.  May I be found ready to work alongside You and not against You.  Let me face it in contentment, knowing that You are with me.