Not for Nothing (07/26/24)

It’s a curious thing, that this book should be so great an encouragement, so full of positive outlook.  After all, Paul is in prison, has been for years, and now sees his trial coming in the near future.  That trial is no certain thing, so far as earthly perspective can discern.  He will stand before the emperor, and the emperor is not the most stable of individuals.  Neither does he fear God.  He does as he pleases, and while it has not come to that yet, this would lead to some seriously vile actions against the Christians, as he sought for something to distract from his mismanagement.  Then, too, there were those who were advisers to Nero who had no love for Paul.  His wife, being a Jewess herself, may well have been counted amongst those who saw Christianity as a heretical sect, though her marriage to Nero would suggest her own faith was perhaps nonexistent.  But whatever her perspective, he had enemies amongst the advisors.  So, the outcome of his trial was by no means certain.  Yet, while this is noted, and the possibility of deadly conclusion observed, the letter remains so very positive, so full of joy.  And this passage puts that joyful positivity on full display.

I can’t shake this, though, nor it seems can Paul.  However joyful, he is in fact writing as one within view of his own death.  It’s there.  It’s possible, perhaps even probable.  He’s not denying it, nor could he.  I could readily accept that with such prospects before him, he would pen a far more somber letter, reach far more bitter, or at least bittersweet conclusions.  You can feel it almost turn down that path even here.  “I am being poured out, the libation upon your offering of faith.”  This is the voice of one who can see the end ahead.  It’s clearer still in the letter he later sends to Timothy, though that, if our understanding is correct, comes during a later imprisonment.  “I am already being poured out as a libation.  The time for me to go has come” (2Ti 4:6).  But it is clear that the perspective in that later letter has shifted.  It’s no longer a probability, it’s pretty clearly to be the case. And even there, Paul is not so much expressing sorrow at the outcome, but far more concerned that the church is prepared to continue in his absence, that his coworkers carry on the work.

So, then, I see Paul touch on this bittersweet sense of finality.  But it is greeted not with regret or fear, rather with gladness.  My work has not been in vain.  I can see the fruit of it even now, even in the way you up there in Philippi have given at cost to support me in this time.  You have shown your own sacrificial faith, and blessed me, and I am indeed blessed.  I can see that my work among you was not for nothing.  God has been at work through me, and He is at work in you.  If this is the end, I can go in peace.  As the Amplified offers the point, “I did not run my race in vain or spend my labor to no purpose.”

It is well and good to reflect on how Paul faces the possibility of his death on this occasion, a lesson we should take to heart.  It ought to color our own response to events, when we in our turn see death on the horizon.  And it ought also to inform our behavior and activity now.  If you would have no concern when death comes to you, live so as to have no cause for regret.  Live godly now.  Be focused on God’s purposes now, that you may have a welcome reception then.  That also comes through in this message.  You!  Hold fast to this word of life, and hold it out to others!  Shine like stars (Php 2:15), not bickering amongst yourselves, not entering into heated disputes with those around you, but remaining blameless and pure.  Show the work of God in yourselves – as you do.

That’s the exhortative view of what Paul has been saying.  But there’s also a perspective of being comforted by knowing that this is, by and large, already their practice.  Are there issues in the church?  Of course.  There are always issues, for the church is ever populated by fallen people, and though reborn, we remain as yet children, imperfect in our behavior at the best of times.  But look at this:  Your faithful pursuit of godliness is my cause for boasting.  It is my confidence when I come to stand before the Lord and give account of my life.  I rather like the ERV rendering here.  “I can be proud of you when Christ comes again. You will show that my work was not wasted.”  I used those talents You put into my possession.  I spent myself on working for You, and behold!  My work was not wasted.  It was not for nothing.

What I want to observe here is not how we work in hope of reward or acceptance.  We are already accepted in Christ – by His doing and His choice.  That’s settled ground.  We have already a reward set aside in heaven, and whether it be great or small, it’s in heaven!  We shall not find ourselves in need of more, certainly.  No.  What I want us to see here is how our obedience to the faithful leadership of those who have charge of our maturation serves as encouragement to them.  For those who oversee our growth, evidence of healthy growth is the greatest of encouragements.  What pastor will wish to continue laboring amongst a people utterly unresponsive to his instruction?  If we are of a sort to come, probably late, listen to the sermon if we can remain awake long enough, and then charge back off into life without another thought, why should he bother with us?  Why should God? 

I feel this far too much in myself.  I can come up with excuses.  Oh, I woke up too early last Sunday, couldn’t help beginning to nod off.  But seriously, I’m listening.  Or ask my wife how often I drift into sleep as she prays and sings after we have read a portion of scripture at night.  Well, yes, I was up early.  I almost always am.  What can I say?  My body has decided that 3, 4 in the morning is a fine time to get going, and other than the fact that it makes for an early conclusion to the day as well, I’m pretty much fine with it.  But come 7 or so, sitting on the couch, closing my eyes, yeah.  It’s going to have a rather inevitable result.  That doesn’t excuse it!  No, nor is there any viable excuse for how rapidly I can pretty much forget everything I’ve pursued in these morning studies.  Ask me what I read in Table Talk this morning, and half the time, I’ve probably forgotten before I get ten minutes into these study times.  Ask me what I wrote this morning, once I’ve been to the shower, had breakfast, and started work, and it’s questionable whether much will stick.  Ask me on Tuesday what the sermon was about Sunday and it’s almost certain I will have forgotten pretty much entirely.  Our minds are too busy, too cluttered with other matters, and Sunday service becomes too easily just an hour or two to be gotten through, rather than the nourishing, soul-satisfying matter it should be.

All this to say that when we as believers prove responsive to the direction and encouragement of the pastor and of the elders, it is not just to our benefit.  It is encouragement to them.  For one, it lets them know that God is indeed working through them.  I don’t suppose there’s an elder out there who doesn’t feel in some sense unworthy of his post, ill-equipped to fulfill his duties.  And that’s actually as it ought to be.  We either serve in dependence on Christ for the outcome, or we serve poorly indeed.  That said, when there is clear response to our service, clear evidence that it is not just polite encouragements at the end of service, but that our efforts are having real impact, it is indeed an encouragement.  I have to suppose that pastors, hearing as they are likely to myriad comments of, “Good message today,” at the end of service have good cause to wonder how many of those making such comments will remember a lick of it by tomorrow morning.  After all, pastors and elders are in a position of knowing too much, often enough, about how the lives of their flock are actually going.  That’s their job!  There’s plenty they may not know, but what they do has a terrible tendency to be on the negative side of the account.  So, how refreshing when there’s evidence of things on the positive side!

This, it seems, is part of where Paul is coming from.  Your faithful pursuit of the gospel is evident.  I have it before me even now, not just in the provision you have made to cover my expenses here in this prison house, but even in the person of your own pastor!  You are living sacrificially, even as you have seen that I live.  It is clear, then, that my work among you has been very fruitful.  God has been pleased to work through me, to work in you, and this gospel I preach is spreading!  So, yes, I will rejoice.  If it’s my time, I know I go home to a good report.  To apply the message sent to Corinth, I have been your cause for pride in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ, and you are ours (2Co 1:14).  You can be proud in that my giving the gospel to you has been a true gift, and you have held to it.  And you can be proud, as well, in that your frequent contributions of support have allowed me to bear this same gospel to others.  I, in turn, can be proud in that my efforts have borne fruit.  There has been mutual benefit here, and there shall be mutual acknowledgement from our Lord in that day when we meet Him face to face.  We will not stand before Him apologetic for the lack of fruit in our lives, but having accomplished as He works through us.  We shall have something to set before Him when He comes.

There is a call, then, for us.  Live so as to give your pastor, your elders, your mentors, and those you have mentored, cause for boasting before Christ.  To the degree you teach and train, do so with adherence to the Truth, that those who have been taught and trained by you may be proud of that training when they stand before the Lord they have come to know.  To the degree you are taught and trained, take it to heart.  Apply it.  Live it.  Give your teachers reason to be proud when asked by our Savior what they have done for Him.  Mind you, He has no particular need of asking.  He knows.  But come that day, when the sons of God shine in their full glory, all will know.  Those who accounted them inconsequential will see that they were wrong.  Those who laughed at faith as being a crutch will find themselves longing for something to lean on, weakened to utter powerlessness at the realization that this gospel message which they rejected as nonsense has indeed proven true.

In sum, let us live so as to have an offering to present our Lord, a positive record on our account.  Indeed, let us live as living sacrifices, that being our reasonable act of worship.  And let us do so in a fashion that will give our fellow believers, and those brothers who labor together with us, something of their own to set before our mutual Lord and King.

Sacrificial Living (07/27/24)

The central image of this passage is that of sacrifice.  You have Paul poured out as a libation, a drink offering.  You have the sacrifice given by these Philippians, a ministering service of their faith.  I suspect that thoughts of sacrifice come to you with negative connotations.  After all, where there has been a sacrifice, something has been given up, given over.  There is personal loss involved, insomuch as what has been given over cannot be used any longer.  However accurate these observations, we need to get past them, to restore ourselves to a more accurate perspective on matters of sacrifice.

Sacrifice has been an integral part of the life of faith pretty much from the start.  But it has perhaps contributed to our negative view of the idea that the first sacrifice came in response to sin on the part of Adam and Eve, and it came not from them, but from God, taking the life of some animal or other in order to provide them clothing, to cover their shame.  And so, we have this view that sacrifice is a matter of shame, seeking to deal with it somehow.  The next sacrifices we encounter are those of Cain and Abel, and while these are not made with explicit reference to sin and shame, they soon become occasion for sin and shame.  And so, it seems, the die is cast for our perception of the relationship of sin and sacrifice.  It continues, of course, with the Day of Atonement, and even the Passover, doesn’t it?  But again, it’s an incomplete apprehension of the idea.

As I commented in briefly pursuing this idea in preparatory notes, the inclusion of a libation in this image would tend to steer us towards either the burnt offering or the peace offering as being in his thoughts.  Now, the articles I considered observe that libations were a common practice amongst the various religions of the period, and had been back when Israel was first coming on the scene.  Canaanites would have been quite familiar with the idea then, and the Greeks were quite familiar with it now.  But Paul is still fundamentally a Jew, and one well-trained in the ways of Judaism.  So, his first intentions in using this imagery must reasonably be expected to go back to Jewish practice.

So, what do we have from that source?  I have not by any means gone into this in depth, though I think there could be value in that.  If it is to be, it shall be at another time.  For now, I’ll settle for some points brought out by the one or two articles I pursued, primarily that from the ISBE.  The burnt offering, they observe, was the most solemn of sacrifices.  But understand that solemnity does not necessitate understanding sorrow or moroseness.  No, this was an act of adoration, of devotion.  It was demonstrated devotion to God, and thus to be considered as, ‘worship in the full sense.’  I incline to view our giving of offerings in this light.  It’s certainly not payment for the show, as it were, nor is it given in consideration of making sure the staff gets paid, and the facilities can be maintained.  That may be included in the results of giving, and the addressing of myriad other needs as well.  But taken all together, they still do not touch on the purpose and the point of there being an offering.  It is an act of worship.  It is not the turning point in the service, where we go from songs and joyfulness into the more serious matter of the sermon.  It is not a shift in the flow of things.  It is of a piece with the singing, with the reading of Scripture, with the expressions of fellowship, with Communion, and yes, with the gospel proclaimed once more in our hearing, reminding us again of our God and King.

Perhaps we would feel better to consider it a peace offering, which the ISBE indicates was a more celebratory affair, a giving in thanks for some occasioned joy.  As such, the peace offering was and is the expression of a heart full of gratitude.  But the libation:  A pouring out of strong drink.  This seems, on the surface, to be completely at odds with a system of practice that so thoroughly eschews anything to do with strong drink.  Why, the priests weren’t even to partake of wine when serving, lest drunkenness lead to indiscretions in their pursuing of official duties.  So, where is strong drink coming into the picture?  Are we talking the equivalents of scotch or vodka?  Or are we still dealing in wine?  Well, in other cultures, other religions, it might well have been blood, and one can sense that creeping into Paul’s picture as well.  “I am being poured out.”  That’s something more than wine, even as it was with Jesus.  And if we go back to the Last Supper to observe, what is that cup of wine He holds forth to His disciples?  It is, “My blood of the covenant.”  It was symbolic, to be sure, but it was symbolic of a soon coming reality, and a reality that remains absolutely central and necessary to our faith.

But behold!  This offering of sacrifice is a matter undertaken by choice, willingly.  It is not demanded, it is offered.  It is an expression of worship and, if we permit ourselves to see a combination of these two offerings, the burnt offering and the peace offering, it is also an expression of thanksgiving, an appreciation of what God has done.  We don’t come to God in worship simply because He is powerful and might crush us for our negligence otherwise.  We come in grateful recognition of all that He has done and is doing to give us life worth living.  We come, then, in devotion and gratitude both.  We give unto the work of the Lord because we recognize the need for it, and we recognize the beauty of it.  We recognize the beauty of the One Who does the work.

Remember where we are coming from to arrive at this verse.  Most immediately, there is that giving evidence of our blameless and innocent lives as children of God, giving light to this dark world by our harmonious, peaceful pursuit of such a lifestyle (Php 2:14-15).  And this is happening in us not by main force, but because God Himself is at work in all of us, individually and collectively, to be willing to His purpose, and to be working in His purpose – for His good pleasure (Php 2:12-13).  We are becoming that living sacrifice that Paul encourages us to be (Ro 12:1-2), but it is God in us achieving the desired end.  So, the sacrifice we see in this passage is firmly connected to that purity of life from the previous passage.

Recall, particularly, the instruction given for the lamb sacrificed on Passover.  It was to be spotless, free of any defect.  This was the case with all of the Old Covenant sacrifices.  It would not do to cull some diseased or disabled animal from your flock to give to the Lord.  He is to have the first and the best.  And what connection this has to our lives as living sacrifices!  We come to the Revelation and learn that the bride has made herself ready.  The church is clothed, bright and clean in righteous acts (Rev 19:7-8).  Peter observes of Christ, that His offering was that of a lamb unblemished and spotless, as the Passover demanded (1Pe 1:19).  Then, in his second letter, he encourages us to be the same.  Since you look for the new heavens and new earth, be diligent!  Be diligent to be found by Him in peace, spotless and blameless (2Pe 3:14).  This is what it means to be a living sacrifice.  We are ready in season and out, not calculating the day of His return, but confidently awaiting it, and seeking as best we are able to hold ourselves in readiness by living as He desires us to live.

Thus, this life of a living sacrifice is not one of long faces, and showing the world around us just how much we have let go of in order to be acceptable to Him.  We are not, as some religions, walking on eggshells, fearful lest the time of His coming catch us in a moment of weakness and thus, cost us everything in spite of our efforts.  Yet, we are seeking to walk in accordance with His ways.  And we are doing so in humble recognition of our weakness.  We are also doing so in the glad knowledge of His strength working in us, His presence in us, His voice guiding us and His power upholding us.  We know, after all, how much He has already done on our behalf, and we know what a response of gratitude must generate in us as a response.  “We know love by this:  Christ laid down His life for us!  We should likewise lay down our lives for our brothers” (1Jn 3:16).  There is your libation, poured out by God Himself.  And there is your response of gratitude.  Is John calling for a literal giving of our lives for our brothers?  It could come to that.  It has for many, and not just in the pursuit of godly living.  I think even of the man who died during the attempted assassination a few weeks back.  How did he die?  Shielding his loved ones.  Was he a man of faith?  I honestly don’t know.  Perhaps he was.  But I think one could probably find those, even without faith, who might do likewise.  Or perhaps it’s the act of a conscience being awakened to God in its last earthly moments.  We cannot know this side of the end.  But we know this:  It is an act of love, of courage, of sacrifice.  And we rightly honor the one who has, in fact, laid down his life for the sake of a brother, or a spouse, or a child or parent.

Let me touch briefly on the last aspect of this central image, the matter of ministering.  The idea here, according to the lexicons, encompasses an office undertaken at personal expense.  To put it somewhat crassly, you’re not in it for the money.  It’s costly, this life of a living sacrifice.  I think of David, on that occasion when he wanted a field upon which to build an altar, and the owner of that field, seeing it was the king asking, thought to just give it to him.  And David wouldn’t have it.  Am I going to offer to God something that has cost me nothing?  Far be it from me!  Ministering is not without cost.  It comes at personal expense.  That may not be a financial expense, so much, though I could observe that pastors are, by and large, among the lowest paid professionals.  And yet, they are called to be prepared for work at all hours, to field our worst sorrows and do something about them.  They must labor amidst the darkness and remain light.  But it is a service willingly entered into.  They have, in some regards, laid down their lives for the benefit of the church.

Pastors do not, in general, become pastors because they are incapable of ‘real work.’  They do so because of a call from God on their lives.  They minister by offering prayers and sacrifices to God, by giving to those in need.  And let me tell you something.  They are not alone in this.  Or at least, they ought not to be.  Hear it from Peter.  “You also, as living stones, are being built up as a spiritual house for a holy priesthood to offer up spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (1Pe 2:5).  Do you see it?  You also live sacrificially.  You also are of the priesthood.  Indeed, you are a chosen race, without respect to any specific race or ethnicity.  You are a royal priesthood, a holy nation for God’s own possession (1Pe 2:9).  Ours is a priesthood not of professionals, but of all believers.  While we benefit greatly from the gift of pastors and teachers in the church, and of elders and deacons well qualified for their offices, this is not the sum of it.  We don’t simply leave the hard work to them and reap the benefits to ourselves.  No!  We are the called out.  We are called into service, to be living sacrifices each and every one of us.  We are called to give ourselves to the work of the kingdom.  That doesn’t by any stretch require that we all abandon our employments, lay aside whatever familial obligations may apply, and go off-grid for Jesus or something.  It may well be that our employment is given us so as to have something to offer.  It may well be that our primary mission field is in the home, raising a new generation for Christ, or simply helping edify one another within that relationship.  But we are all ministers, and called to minister.  We are all expected to take up our offices at personal expense, and give both in prayers and in actions of love for the benefit of all God’s children.

Lord, can this be said of us?  Are we pursuing this life of faith in a way that others might indeed observe and see us as beyond reproach, as pouring ourselves out in service to those in need?  It may not look like what they expect it should.  But is it there?  Is it there in me?  If it is not, if I am fooling myself as regards my adherence to the Way, correct me, reshape me, and get me on course.  I am Yours.  This I know.  I am nothing.  This, also, I know.  But I would be faithful to You, willingly used by You, and given into Your service.  Forgive me those many hours I seem to keep back for myself, giving You only a portion.  But then, multiply that portion in Your power and purpose, that what I am able to give to You may have impact far beyond whatever means I bring to it.  Your will be done.  That’s really it.  Your will be done.  Here in me, here among my brothers and sisters, here with my wife, our children, their spouses, and onward.

Commanded Joy (07/28/24)

Perhaps it is the case that this sense of things being bittersweet is less to do with Paul’s sense of things and more to do with our mistaken perspectives on sacrifice.  Whatever the case, any sorrowful thoughts are now burst asunder by his own response.  If I am a sacrifice poured out, I rejoice!  And I want you to share in that joy which is mine.  And you do!  You, too, have lived sacrificially for Christ, and I rejoice with you in that.  That’s more or less the sense here, I think.

I had been inclined to associate all of this more with the burnt offering, but now I’m thinking perhaps the peace offering is the more appropriate association.  Observe.  Paul is not so much rejoicing in his own potential of being poured out, as that there is this sacrifice of theirs to which his life can be added.  You are doing it!  You are being those living sacrifices you are called to be, and therefore I rejoice with you.  There is a sense, in that idea of rejoicing together, that he is congratulating them.  And doesn’t that set us more in the line of the peace offering?  You have been blessed by God, and you sacrificially live your appreciation.  I, too, appreciate what God has done for you.  Far from being jealous of your good fortune, I celebrate it together with you.  Don’t we get a taste of this when a new believer answers the call to be baptized?  Or, for that matter, when one comes to apparent faith?  I say apparent, because those ‘conversion moments’ as we might call them are not the telling point.  What is telling is continuance.  What is telling is a change of course in the life of the one who laid claim to faith.  Has God truly claimed them, or was this just for show?  Time will tell.  But we take things at face value, and rejoice with them.  And, with wisdom, we come alongside them, to help them to become established in this new worldview, this new life.

But there’s a theme.  We rejoice together.  And in rejoicing together, can it not be said that we rejoice together with the angels in heaven?  Certainly, where we are privileged to witness a true conversion, those angels are rejoicing, and we likewise.  But, as love trusts, we trust the evidence before us, and pray that there shall be no cause to reconsider this conclusion.  Sorry, that sounds so skeptical, and that’s not my intent at all.  I do, however, recognize those realities that are clear from experience.  There have been too many who came, responded with great emotion to a call to be saved, perhaps continued for a week or two, but then disappeared back into the night, back to old ways.  Were they in fact saved?  It certainly doesn’t appear that way.  But then, I’m not God.  I cannot say with finality whether it was the conversion that was real, and this departure is temporary, or whether it was all an act, and the darkness was never truly left behind.  God knows I’ve got issues of my own, points where old ways remain, even after all these years, too strong an influence and too readily given the reins.

So, where there’s clear evidence of maturing faith?  Absolutely, rejoice!  And let that one know how glad you are of his progress.  Congratulate him on it.  Now, here we come up against a concern over pride.  If I congratulate him, don’t I risk puffing him up?  Doesn’t he risk becoming overly proud of himself if he receives my congratulations?  Well, pride is ever with us, so sure, there’s risk.  But if the growth is real, and the congratulations earnestly deserved, then, no, I don’t think it’s a problem.  And it’s not a problem if that one you congratulate simply says thank you, rather than grandly maneuvering to shift the honor to God.  Saying thank you is not stealing God’s glory.  And again, if that which is being congratulated is truly present, then whatever the response, I think we can safely say that the one whom we congratulate has a clear sense of God’s involvement in any good found in him.

Okay.  Let’s look at the other half of this.  “I rejoice.”  Some of us, I suspect, go straight to that image of a lamb skipping about with the joy of being out of the pen and into the fresh green fields.  It’s a sunny day, food is everywhere, my friends are here.  What’s not to like?  The simple pleasure of it all is almost overwhelming and naturally, we respond.  You’ve no doubt met a youngster who practically vibrates with the excitement of the day.  Maybe you’ve still got a bit of that sensation left yourself.  You’ve entered onto one of those perfect days, and neither work nor the necessities of maintaining the home interfere; there’s nothing impinging on your enjoyment of this, and it’s so rare that you are almost set back on your heels by the opportunities ahead of you, not sure what to enjoy first.  Maybe it’s one of those days on vacation, when you’ve gone somewhere special, and are experiencing a lifestyle and a pace of life utterly foreign to your usual, and the wonder of it just sweeps over you.  You know the feeling, though.  You’ve felt it.  Joy and excitement; and if we could get past our sense of decorum, everybody around us would know it.

That’s all wonderful.  But this joy that is being discussed here is, I think we must say, something deeper.  I am, as ever, firmly connecting with the thought given in Strong’s definition of our term.  He writes of being calmly happy, cheerful.  It’s a steadfastness of joy, if you will, rather than that excited outburst – an outburst which is ever a thing of the moment, a temporary and fleeting feeling.  This is not fleeting.  This is not temporary.  This is become a character trait.  Again, I can turn to that list Paul gives of the fruit of the Spirit, and what tops the list?  Love, joy, and peace (Gal 5:22).  It is love, I might suggest, that moves us to rejoice together with our brothers at their growth in Christ.  It is joy that gives evidence of our own.  And in this mutual growth, we are first planted, if you will, in the peace of Christ, made joyful by knowing our enmity with God is at an end.  But we are at peace, as well, with one another.  We have nothing to prove to each other, nothing to judge.  We are brothers, sons of one Father, and as Paul assures the church in Rome, which it would seem faced a bit of contention or competition between the Jewish and Gentile contingents there, “the Lord is able to make him stand” (Ro 14:4).  Your brother is weak by comparison?  Know that God will make him stand.  His perspectives vary from yours?  He answers to God as you do.  It’s not your place to judge.  God will judge, and He is able to make him stand, as he has made you stand.  So, let there be no contention, no grumbling.  You see how both these letters pursue the same goal.

Set aside your competition, and humble yourselves to obedience, obedience to God and to conscience, for it is through the conscience that the Spirit speaks, as we seek to instruct ourselves by the word of God.  And how blessed we are!  The churches to which Paul writes had only the Old Testament at the time, and had to work to apply it rightly to life post-ascension.  Things have changed, changed radically, and most assuredly for the better.  We are not left to pursue sanctification in the nervousness and uncertainty of our adhering to the tenets of Mosaic Law.  We have now the law written on our hearts.  We have now the grace of God, the knowledge of His forgiveness, the experience of His abiding, everlasting lovingkindness.  That was always there, but now it’s clear.  We no longer offer up animals in hope that God will forgive us for the year past, or the week ahead.  We live in forgiveness, knowing that Jesus already paid it all.  We don’t agonize over whether God might somehow accept us as His own.  We know He has.  And now, rather than earning His favor, we can respond as peace offerings, as thanksgiving for what He has done and is doing in us.  The full and complete worship of the burnt offering is still there, but any fear and trepidation is gone.

Last night, we concluded our reading of Job, and I would have to confess that it is a hard book to read.  I mean, it’s not hard to understand the language or the phrasing, though much of it is obscured by our distance from his time and culture.  It’s hard because no matter how much we try, we cannot get to the place of seeing how his losing sons and daughters, spending years in physical pain, and suffering even the false comfort of wife and friends, all of whom, it seems, could not avoid concluding that there must be some sin being punished here.  How is this good, God?  Yes, I see that you replaced what was taken from him, but still, that’s ten lives snuffed out, and why?  There is no mention of anything they might have done to deserve that.  There’s no explanation for it given at all, really.  There is only, “Hey.  I’m God.”  And yes, I understand that this should be sufficient.  Certainly, His power and majesty are sufficiently displayed to make plain that we have no room for demanding answers or a change of course.  But at the end of it all, Job is left no nearer an answer than at the start.  There is only, “I’m God,” and if you know Him, then yes, you know that this is indeed answer enough.  He is good.  There is no shadow of darkness in Him.  There is no capriciousness like unto that of, say, the Greek pantheon of Paul’s era.  He is not playing games with us, moving us about like pawns, or sea monkeys, or what have you, just to see how we might respond.  No.  For one, He already knows how we will respond, and has designed the course of our days accordingly.  For He knows His desired outcome, and will see to it that what He desires transpires.

But I drift from my course here.  Rejoice with one another.  Be cheerful in your own right, calmly happy, come what may.  God has you.  And know this, as well:  Your joyful pursuit of the life of a living sacrifice gives others cause to rejoice.  Further, as you see those among your brethren who are thus living in cheerful devotion to God, it should give you cause to rejoice.  I come again to thoughts of Shirley's passing, and generally, I know, a funeral hits us as a time for sorrow.  I felt it, certainly, with the passing of my parents.  It hurts.  But with Shirley?  No.  Okay, so she was not immediate family to me, but she has been part of my Christian family for decades, and never was one so calmly cheerful, “Blessed by the Best.”  No, there was no doubt but that she was going on to her full reward in Christ, not with her, not with any who knew her.  This was no time for sorrow, but for joy.  Our dear sister has entered into the presence of her Lord, the Best.  She’s living her best life now.  Glory to God!  And this should be our story as well, every one of us.  We live each day blessed by the Best, blessed by God Almighty, adopted into His family, and possessed of an inheritance already stored away and waiting for us when we come home.  What more do you need?  What more could you ask?  Even so, Lord!  Even so!  Come quickly, that we may enter into our reward, that these days of sorrow and trial might come to a conclusion.

Okay, let’s see if I can wrap this up.  My sub-head here is, “Commanded Joy” and rightly so.  The final verse here is one of command, an issue of imperatives.  You, too, rejoice.  Rejoice with me.  Congratulate me.  My devotion to Christ reaches a crescendo, and I am thrilled that it is so.  Oh!  How my Masterful Musician is playing upon the instrument of my life.  I am indeed producing a beautiful melody for Him, as He plays out His purpose in me, and by His grace, I am proving a well-crafted instrument indeed.  How could it be otherwise?  He has crafted me.  But the joy!  The joy of producing such beautiful results!  And if He is pleased to use me in death as well as life, then so much greater the joy.  He told me I would be speaking before rulers, and here I am.  Perhaps not the means I would have chosen to bring it about, but it is brought about, and who can doubt but that His hand has been in it every step of the way.  I rejoice!  And I tell you:  Rejoice!  Rejoice always (1Th 5:16)!

Look.  This is no one-off for Paul.  As I just ran a scan for rejoicing in his writings, it’s everywhere, isn’t it?  In just about every letter.  To the church in Colossae what does he write?  “I rejoice in my suffering for your sake” (Col 1:24).  Later in this very letter, we hear it reiterated, reinforced.  “Rejoice in the Lord always!  I say it again:  REJOICE!” (Php 4:4).  Even in correcting the Corinthians there is an urging to be cause to rejoice.  “You should be those who make me rejoice” (2Co 2:3).  And in the unity of the body, there is cause.  “If one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it” (1Co 12:26).  For where one member is honored, the church is honored.  God is honored.  And where God is honored, joy is commanded.

I know it’s an image I come back to frequently, but I’ll do it again anyway.  Came the day when Aaron’s sons, having taken it upon themselves to make offerings according to their own whims rather than according to the instruction of the Lord, were put to death for their affrontery.  Now, I’ve heard it suggested that the real issue here was that they had not as yet been instructed, but I don’t buy it.  Sorry.  No.  But the piece of this I wish to observe is the instruction given to Aaron.  You are not to weep and mourn over this.  Others will do so, and your sons will be properly grieved, but not by you.  You represent Me.  Their just punishment glorifies Me.  For you, then, joy is commanded.  That doesn’t require that you leap about laughing at your loss.  No.  It’s not a call to hysteria.  But you shall be glad in God, pleased that He is honored, calmly cheerful, and by no means dismayed as you stand in My service.

Likewise, the feasts.  The feasts were no occasion for sorrow and angst.  They were times of joy, celebrating the goodness and the care of God for His people.  Oh, that we might take that to heart today.  That I might.  It is Sunday, after all, and I proceed to our service of worship.  And I would confess that the weight of preparation most every Saturday, seeking to be prepared for my part in bringing worshipful praises before God, wanting to supply my best, but also feeling the pressure upon my time, can produce a bit of resentment and even frustration.  It was easier when it was only the saxophone that I brought to the mission.  But with the duties of keyboard, there’s more need to practice, and more need to reshape chord sheets so I don’t get lost jumping back and forth, and the time needed increases, and the time I have for other pursuits necessarily decreases accordingly.  Then, too, there’s the frustrations of technical glitches in the course of actual worship.  There’s the frustration when my eyes lose their place in spite of it, when things just don’t sound the same as I had intended or hoped.  But this is all a wrong perspective.  All of it.  This time of worship, perhaps more than any other time, is intended to be a time of joy, of being calmly cheerful.  Here is a place where nothing ought to disturb our equilibrium, for here we are in the visceral presence of God, surrounded by those of like faith.  Here, for a change, we can perhaps focus on actual worship, and not on fighting the myriad urges of temptation that define our days.

So, let me hear my own message today.  “Don’t despair, rejoice!”  Let your joy be known.  Let my love for Christ shine through.  Let my God find me useful today.  Dear God, play through me.  Use me in accordance with Your great plan and purpose, and let me be not merely useable, but useful.  Let me be a cause for rejoicing this day.  And let me see cause for rejoicing in my turn.  May I be an encouragement to somebody in this body, that You may have that bit more of their praises.  Amen.