New Thoughts: (07/31/24-08/05/24)
Encourage Contentment (08/01/24-08/02/24)
Paul has spent much of the letter thus far seeking to encourage the
Philippians in their faith, and to calm any troubling of their minds
that has arisen due to his situation. In this we have seen the heart
of the Apostle on display, a shepherd’s selfless concern for his
flock. But now, as he speaks of his intentions, there is this note of
seeking to encourage himself, or to be encouraged. He, too, has
concerns for those whom he has come to know through the ministry. It
puts me in mind of Pastor Sanford, whom I had known as a lad, and who
I heard from through his emails very much later in life. Here was one
who, like Paul, had been involved with churches scattered far and
wide, a missionary who had been in India when Gandhi was stirring that
nation to independence. He had been amongst the Navajos. And, along
the way, he had been there in Hawaii, at a little mission church that
was reaching not only the native population, but the military families
as well. And it was clear that he remained connected to every church
with which he had been involved, continued to feed them through his
discussions of Scripture, now via email, even to his dying day, doing
as best he could to further the gospel and further the growth of those
whose lives he had touched. And may I just say, what a testimony!
It’s not a place I thought to go this morning, but compare and
contrast to the obligation set upon pastors in our denomination, that
they cease and desist from all ministering to those of former churches
in which they no longer serve. I understand the intent here, and how
the continued presence and influence of a former pastor can easily
hamstring the new pastor, and lead to a bit of factionalism in the
body. That’s a real problem, and one Paul faced often enough. Just
read through the first few chapters of 1Corinthians and
you see it. But then, what is that letter except a former pastor
continuing to minister to his former flock? Now, I grant you that
Paul is in a special category, being as he serves in the Apostolic
office. But that being said, I wonder if perhaps our denomination’s
intended protection of the pastor has led to a certain disadvantage to
the body. It seems to run counter to the example we have in
Scripture, of continued care and involvement. Something to think
about, at any rate. But fortunately, something that’s not a direct
concern at this juncture.
Back to my intended line of thought. Paul hopes to send Timothy
their way, though as we shall see, it’s not necessarily connected with
delivering this epistle. He sees a need for more immediate attention
to their concerns, and that is the work of this letter, as well as
with him sending back their pastor. But that’s for the next study.
Here, he’s looking further ahead. Their need for comforting assurance
in regards to their pastor is more immediate, and can be addressed
now, so, once the letter’s written off he goes to return to his
flock. But that will leave the outcome of Paul’s trial as yet
uncertain. So, he’s planning for that. Just as soon as it’s clear
which way things are going to go, Timothy will be sent. Why? Because
one way or another, it’s needful for them to know. Their comfort and
confidence remain Paul’s primary concern.
But there’s this second aspect. Paul is not without concerns of his
own. While he has every confidence in God, and in God’s capacity to
finish the work begun in them, yet he has personal, shall we say,
vested interest in their situation. This is readily understandable.
Any parent, I suspect, will recognize the nature of this concern. I
think of my own daughter, shaping her course through life. One hopes
for their child. One hopes, also, I think, that maybe with adulthood
comes a lessoning of the concern a parent has for their development,
but if that’s so, it’s apparently at some future point as yet. I
don’t have direct say over her choices any longer; haven’t had for a
fairly long while now. In large part, she is on her own, her choices
may be made with access to such counsel as I may provide, but she will
do as she will do. And there may be consequences to the doing. I can
pray. I can counsel. But in the end, I can only look on from a
distance and observe how things go. And while watching from a
distance, sometimes the unknowns as to outcome weigh on you. There is
comfort of a sort in receiving news, particularly if there’s been a
recent call concerning the trials of life. One wants to know they are
maturing, choosing wisely, making real progress in becoming truly
established and able to see to themselves; particularly as we are not
getting younger ourselves. We know the time comes when we can be no
encouragement any longer. That’s a taste, I think, of where Paul’s
at, except for him, it’s entire congregations, spread all around the
regions of the Mediterranean, and the stakes are high. He’s not
dealing with mundane matters of maintaining house and food and such.
He’s dealing in matters of eternity. His cares are great.
On this basis, he seeks to learn of their condition, not the boasts
of their pastor, which may be accurate enough, but may also be colored
by that pastor’s self-image or simply his being drawn from the same
stock. So, Paul is sending Timothy, at once trusted by them as being
a reliable teacher in his own right, well-versed in Paul’s doctrines,
but also one whose assessment of things can be trusted by Paul to be
accurate and unbiased. What report he brings will be both honest and
complete, reflecting both positive developments, and concerns.
Now, it seems that for the most part, Paul does not perceive any
great cause for concern in this particular church. There’s been this
mild note of there perhaps being a bit of contentiousness up north,
but there’s none of that firm rebuke in this letter that we find in
others. It’s far more an encouraging of what is already positive in
its trajectory. Still, to have a report on their condition, and
particularly with Epaphroditus having been restored to them, will be a
comfort to Paul. To have certain news of their certain maturity, and
holding fast to sound doctrine in spite of all the wild influences of
the world is ever going to be encouragement to a pastor’s heart. He
knows, certainly, that they continue in faith. Their sending of
provision for his aid is no small evidence in their favor. But
whereas pastors I have known in the past would assure us that if
you’ve got their wallet, you’ve got their heart, it just isn’t so.
Giving financially is, after a fashion, cheap concern, an easy salve
to a mind that knows it should be doing more by way of active
Christian love. I needn’t go to the mission field if I’ve given
enough in the offering plate to support those who do.
Trust me, I’m not looking to guilt-trip anybody into undertaking a
mission trip. But I am counseling against such involvement in the
work of the church as fails to rise above virtue signaling. It’s of a
piece with those who perhaps come to worship occasionally, maybe even
weekly, but remain effectively untouched by the exercise, go right
back to life as they’ve been living it lo, these many years. It looks
good, but it is to no effect. To go back to Paul’s concerns from the
previous few verses, those who have labored with them for faith have
apparently done so in vain (Php 2:16).
No. The pastor’s encouragement does not come of being assured that
this was a good sermon, as people leave the sanctuary. That’s simple
politeness. Nobody, or at least very few, are going to be so crass as
to inform you that your sermon put them to sleep, your points, such as
they were, were poorly conceived, poorly delivered, and quite possibly
heretical. It’s just not going to happen. I mean, it might, if there
is true concern for heresy, but even then, it would be a matter
pursued in private at some later juncture. It simply would not be
polite to tear into the poor man when he’s just finished speaking.
So it is with this propensity to suppose our giving to the offering
is sufficient service unto God. I did my part. I can show you the
balance sheet, proof positive that my giving hits the 10% mark, maybe
even exceeds it. But giving money is easy. Giving money does not in
fact touch the heart. It may touch our greed, but not our heart.
Seeing those being reached by the gospel, seeing how things are in
other places in the world, and recognizing how much more they are at
peace with nothing, as we would count it, than we are with plenty.
Seeing the depths of need out there, not just for material aid, but
for spiritual aid; that hits differently than dropping a check in the
plate as it passes. And while it may mark me out as a luddite of
sorts, I have to say that clicking some button on a web page to make
your donation is not the same as the shared act of worship that
pertains when we are together in worship, and the time comes to give
tithes and offerings. I’m sorry, but we’ve sacrificed active, shared
worship, for convenience. I suppose it’s the same feeling I have for
those who avail themselves of the Facebook feed rather than making the
effort to actually be present with the body in communion. I
understand that there are those for whom this is truly necessary, but
too often it’s mere convenience, and it’s to their loss.
Okay. Where was I? Paul seeks to be encouraged. One might take
this as evidence that all his professions of being content in the Lord
are just so much guff. He’s just a guy, as worked up and anxious
about everything as we are. The details may vary, but the
fundamentals are the same. Well, let me tell you that no, this is not
the case. I mean, yes, he is a man just like ourselves, and he would
happily inform you of that should you start trying to put him up on a
pedestal. I suspect for many today, probably myself included, he
would be the first to rebuke us for our over-inflated, nigh on
worshipful perspective in regards to him. Yes, he’s important, but
only because of Christ working through him to further the purpose of
God. In himself, he is nothing. He’s just one of us, better trained
perhaps, harder used certainly, but one of us. He has thoughts and
feelings, just as we do. He knows those restless nights when the mind
is too busy with what ifs to get to sleep. But he knows God. And he
knows that God is not averse to him seeking answers through earthly
means as well as spiritual.
Listen up! There is nothing at all wrong with seeking to inform
yourself, with planning your way, with looking for answers to your
concerns. There is nothing at all wrong with going to a doctor to
address your illness. It’s not somehow less pious than sitting back
and waiting for God to do something directly. There is nothing
super-spiritual about insisting one will only receive that which the
Holy Spirit speaks directly to your mind, having nothing to do with
mere mortals who have, perhaps undertaken to interpret the Scriptures
in their own turn. It’s like this: God has given you the means, be
it doctors, be it the guidance of faithful men, be it working at your
job to see to your provision. If God has provided, what does it say
of us when we refuse to avail ourselves of that provision? Are we
wiser than God? How is this not telling Him He’s wrong? No, the only
potential issue – and I grant it’s a very real potential – is that we
become neglectful of the fact that even in these things, it remains
God’s provision. Put it this way. If our trust is entirely in the
medical professionals, and we ignore the Great Physician, there’s
really no good basis for expecting a positive outcome. If we are
devoted to our jobs, carefully managing our finances and guarding our
horde as it grows, yet fail to recognize our Provider, well! All of
that careful work can be tossed away in a flash.
You know, for man to say, ‘You fool,’ is,
per Jesus, a sin (Mt 5:22). But when God
says it? Then, it’s just accurate assessment. And in light of this
line of thought I’ve been on, we can go to the parable our Lord taught
regarding that one who laid up treasure for himself. “But
God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your soul is required
of you; and then, who will own what you have prepared?’” (Lk 12:20). There is no certainty in earthly
provision nor in earthly power. There is certainty in God. There’s a
reason we are constantly encouraged to seek Him first, pursue His
concerns, and leave it to Him to care for ours. “Don’t
be anxious for your life. Don’t be so focused on what you’re going
to have to eat, or what you can wear. Life is more than food. The
body is more than clothing” (Lk 12:22-23).
Think eternally. Seek the kingdom. Trust God. That is something far
different than refusing to look to your needs. It’s not the same as
relying on the kindness of strangers. There’s a balance here. As
we’re reading through Nehemiah together in the
evenings, I’ll refer once again to that footnote in my bible, that
observes this perfect balance of working as though God could do
nothing, and praying as though we couldn’t. That’s how this walk
goes.
So, Paul seeks encouragement, and given my sense of a theme of
contentment in this letter, I might say he seeks to encourage his own
contentment. He’s addressing that little seed of anxiousness, doing
something about it. That doesn’t mean he’s setting aside God’s care
and provision. No. You might notice that curious insertion of ‘in the Lord’ here. This intention of his is
done ‘in the Lord.’ What does that mean?
Is he insisting that he’s had some special revelation from God
informing him that this is the thing he should do? I suppose it’s
possible, but I don’t think so. Does it mean he’s been praying about
it, and hears the Spirit’s answer in his conscience? Quite likely he
has prayed. It seems to me that Paul is one disinclined to act in any
fashion without first having prayed, and I expect his prayers were
something far stronger than simply seeking that God might give the nod
to his plans and back him up. Our prayers can trend that way, seeking
to direct God rather than to be directed by Him, and that is not a
good place to be. But it does leave us with that question of how we
are to receive answer from Him.
It's funny. In preparation, I was asking the question, “How
to hear ‘in the Lord’ in this connection?” I think, though,
the more challenging question is, “How to hear the
Lord in this connection?” When we pray, how do we receive
answer? For God does listen, and He does answer. But a first
question might be, do we even look for His answer, or do we figure
we’ve prayed and that’s good enough? But let me assume that much,
that we are praying in pursuit of God’s will and not in seeking to
direct His will. Well, if we’re asking questions, the normal course
would be to wait for answers, and when they come, to listen
attentively. But the likelihood we’re going to get an audible
response from our Lord is, while not out of the question, certainly
not the norm. It hasn’t been the norm since those days when God came
to walk in the garden with Adam and Eve. There have been occasions,
but they are noteworthy because they are exceptional. We could
perhaps point to dreams and visions, but it seems to me that most
examples we have of dreams and visions came because God had something
to reveal, not because somebody was praying for direction. So, what,
then? Do we perceive His answer by testing hypotheses and seeking to
sense which one leaves us feeling peaceful? That feels to me akin to
dowsing for water, and probably less reliable. If our perception of
God’s answer is all about feelings, then surely we put ourselves in
danger of just having Him as a rubber stamp on our preferences, a
false assurance that we’ve chosen the right thing.
So, what’s left to us? Well, we are blessed to have the Holy Spirit
indwelling, and while it goes back to the regions of feeling, there is
the voice of conscience by which He often directs. But it is
conscience backed by reason. That is to say, when conscience speaks,
it is an informed statement. There is understanding backing the
determination, and if one probes what reason has advised, one will
soon perceive the whys and wherefores of its counsel. I think, as we
mature, whether it is growing humility or simply growing realization,
we begin to sense when it is the Spirit addressing our concerns and
when it is just feelings. But if there’s doubt remaining, the best
advice for hearing God remains referring to His written word. He has
left us this guidebook, this revelation of His nature and ours, and of
His expectations of His children, which now we are. Oh! But there’s
so much book here! It takes the better part of a year and more just
to read it on a fairly casual level. How am I to find my answers? Do
I just open to a random page, poke my finger at it, eyes closed, and
expect the verse my finger has found to be our answer? Not if you’ve
any sense at all, no. Recall something else about our Spirit, our
Counsellor. He will bring to mind all that our Lord said and did.
So, if I can assume we have at least done our best to instill the
Scriptures in our minds, by reading, by studying, by attentive
listening to those who preach from its texts, then we have given the
Spirit plenty of material from which to draw reminders. That, it
seems to me, is the biggest point in studying these texts in the first
place. We cannot be reminded of that which we’ve never bothered to
learn. But having learned, we may well forget, particularly in the
heat of trial. And so, comes our Counsellor, pointing us back to the
relevant texts. We might need a concordance or a search tool to find
it once it’s been brought to mind, but we know it. And we are granted
wisdom from God to perceive how that applies to our question, and
thus, to perceive His answer.
Now, I will say as well that there will be times, perhaps even a
majority of times, where direction is not clear even with such a
searching of Scripture and of our training. Many of those things for
which we seek advice are matters of no clear consequence from a
kingdom perspective. Do I take this job, or wait for another? Do we
move to this house or not? Should I study this major or that, or
perhaps pursue a trade instead? None of these are directly concerned
with spiritual matters, though I should hope we pursue each with
concern for the impact our decisions might have on our spiritual
health, and on our capacity to serve God well. But you’re not going
to find a home purchase guide in the Bible. You’re not going to
perceive a career counsellor in its pages. There will be some choices
which are, or prove to be morally unacceptable. That’s different. A
job that requires abandoning godly principles would be out, though you
might not see the issue until you have accepted the employment.
This brings us to what has been perhaps the clearest perception of
God’s leading in my experience. You seek as best you may to perceive
the best of your available options, and to pursue it. But even in
pursuing it, prayer continues, perhaps along the lines of, “Lord,
if this is the way, open the doors. If it is not, slam them shut
and guide me elsewhere.” And He will, you know. The
sovereign God is assuredly able to thus place or remove impediments to
our attempts at progress. It remains to us to be wise enough to
first seek that He would thus guide us, and then, to accede and
acknowledge His guidance when He does so. In such a mindset, a no is
no cause for resentment. Setbacks are not cause for frustration, but
for further prayer and thoughtful consideration. Okay, that wasn’t
it, I guess. What then? We might also seek the counsel of our
brothers and sisters. We are, after all, in community for a reason,
and that is, amongst other things, because where I cannot see, another
may. So, don’t be overly inclined to reject an answer that comes by
way of a fellow believer. It might even come through somebody who is
not a believer. But something, some still, small voice of the Spirit,
will draw our attention to the answer, whatever it may be. And this
must be our focus, our concern. This, in all its varied and uncertain
forms, is how we live as a people seeking first the kingdom of God and
His righteousness.
So, with that grand diversion, come back to Paul’s introductory
statement here. “I hope in the Lord.”
That’s the condition for Paul’s decision. The KJV says trust, but the
word is hope. That said, biblical hope is not wishful desire, but
confident anticipation. The key factor is ‘in the
Lord.’ That is to say, this has already been a matter of
prayer, and Paul has already perceived his answer. You have to think,
had Paul relied solely on feelings and personal preference, this would
hardly be the course of action he would take. He would be like those
he mentions later, who seek only their own interests, not those of
Christ Jesus. No, his first concern is Christ’s concern. What does
God want done here? What will best serve the need of the Church? And
on that basis, he is sending his best man, his most trusted, even
though it means he himself will be deprived of that support.
I find two or three points I want to touch on with that point made.
First, do you see how Paul’s own decisions and actions reflect exactly
what he has just been encouraging in his friends up north? “Have
this attitude I yourselves which you see in Christ Jesus” (Php 2:5). “Do nothing
solely for self interest, but consider the needs of others” (Php 2:4). “Be intent on
one purpose, united in spirit, humbly regarding others as more
important than yourself” (Php 2:2-3).
I’m working backwards, it seems, but the themes are joined to one
purpose: Seek the kingdom. Care about others, not just your own
ticket home. And that’s exactly what we find him exercising here. To
send Timothy was not, primarily a matter of self-interest. There is
something of that, in that Timothy, having been sent, will return, and
bring with him report of their condition, thus settling any concerns
in Paul’s own heart as regards that church. But it’s coming at a
cost, a self-sacrifice of Timothy’s present support in what had to be
a most trying time in his own life. Add that he’s also sending
Epaphroditus onward at this juncture, and he’s quite possibly
isolating himself from all companionship in this time of trial. So,
point one: Paul’s preaching is Paul’s practice. He lives the truth
he speaks, and knows Timothy will do likewise. They know it too.
They’ve witnessed it first hand, and they’ll be witnessing it again as
the events planned here come to pass.
Okay. Point number two. Trusting God does not mean we simply accept
things as they are. This is something that Scripture teaches
repeatedly, primarily in discussion of inter-personal relationships,
and there, more usually in regards to the condition of slaves. Yes,
God accepts you even in that state. No, He does not give you excuse
to rebel and run away. But neither does He require you to continue in
that state should some legal and upright means of improving your
situation arise. Put it in current context. You sought God on your
employment, believed by whatever means that you had perceived His
advice rightly, and took a job. But as time progresses, while that
job may not be seeking to coerce you into unrighteous deeds, it may
yet be oppressive, perhaps eating into your time for family and
ministry because of its demands, perhaps nothing more than an onerous
boss, or what we might call a poisonous atmosphere about the place.
Whatever the cause may be, it may well come about that you feel the
need to do something, to seek employment elsewhere. Fine. Just
because you thought God directed you to this job, and even assuming
you were quite right in that regard, this is no requirement that you
remain bound to that job. Pray and seek again. Perhaps it was but
for a season. Perhaps whatever purpose He had for you being there has
passed, and it’s time to move on. The same can apply even to
mentoring relationships. We can, if we are inattentive, come to hold
onto those relationships well past their expiration date. I’ve known
occasions when God, as I perceived it anyway, rather forcibly removed
particular mentors from my life. Now, life isn’t all about me. He
had His reasons, and while my development may have been part of it,
it’s hardly the whole. My former mentor’s development and well-being
must also surely have come into the picture. But be that as it may,
this relationship was at an end. Time to move on, to grow up a bit.
Time also, I suspect, to rely more on God and less on particular
individuals. There’s ever that danger of making an idol of what began
as a means of grace.
Finally, I must recognize from this that self-interest isn’t a matter
that must be rejected entirely. It just needs to be held in proper
position. As I said, Paul’s decision to send Timothy is not entirely
without self-interest. He wants to know how they’re doing. He wants
means to address whatever anxiousness of heart might be his at
present. He speaks of it here. I’m sending him so that, “I
also may be encouraged.” There’s nothing wrong with that!
If it’s your sole reason for acting, maybe. If it swamps your
concerns for God’s pursuits, certainly there’s a problem. You’ve
become your idol. But this is of a piece with seeking to improve your
situation, isn’t it? If I am grown anxious over some matter or
another, and prayer itself isn’t supplying answers to that
anxiousness, taking action to address the issue yourself is hardly to
be construed as out of bounds. Might I go so far as to suggest that
prayer that is unaccompanied by action is at risk of being vanity and
wind? As James, I think, says, if you pray for your brother’s
comfort, but neglect to do what is within your own power to provide
that comfort, what’s that all about? How is that love? No. Take
again the example of Nehemiah, and both pray and work, trusting God to
answer the former and guide the latter. And again, remain attentive
to perceive His answer by whatever means it may come.
Perhaps I can sum it up by this: Trusting in God is not complacency,
and complacency is not trusting in God. Lord, let us not
misconstrue our comfort and happiness of circumstance with Your
direction. Neither let us suppose that pursuing Your direction must
necessarily involve pain and trial. Circumstance is not
instruction, so may we keep our eyes on You, and perceive how You
are directing us through our circumstances, rather than by them.
May Your desire be our desire, and Your will be done by us according
to Your instruction.
Tested and True (08/03/24-08/04/24)
It’s surprisingly difficult to select a key verse in this passage.
On the one hand, verse 19 makes the point that
Timothy will be sent, which is rather essential to the intent of the
rest. Yet, it needs the informing of verses 20 and
22 to really hear the point, or to perceive why it
is that we have these things preserved to our benefit. All this to
say that as I sought to present my key verse selection, given my
preference for paraphrasing rather than merely copying, I found I was
drawing from the surroundings, pulling in from other verses to present
the thought whole, as it were. So, it may not be entirely fair to
pick verse 20, but I think it holds, and I think the
informing of that verse by others is suitable in this case. After
all, when we read that “I have no one else of
kindred spirit,” it’s needful to have a reference to who he’s
talking about. Then, too, there’s the question of just what he means
by this phrase. But if we consider other things Paul has said of
Timothy, I think we can readily arrive at his meaning here.
I could start with what he wrote to Timothy himself at a later
stage. “You followed my teaching and my example.
You pursued the same purpose in the same faith, with patience, with
love, and with perseverance” (2Ti 3:10).
That’s pretty high praise, isn’t it? I would observe again that
Paul’s teaching and his example are quite consistent one with the
other. So, there’s the sense of, you didn’t just nod and concur.
It’s not just that you faithfully conveyed my message. You imbibed
it. You shaped your life by it, and lived it before others and in
your private times. You have proven consistent. We are of one mind,
serving one God in one Spirit, wholly united in message and method
alike, and most importantly, in character. Paul clearly had
established cause to offer such an assessment. He and Timothy had
worked together for years by that point, and Timothy had proven,
repeatedly, to be a trustworthy soldier in the cause of Christ. Take
Paul’s notice of him in his letter to Corinth. “I
have sent you my beloved, faithful child in the Lord. Timothy will
remind you of my ways, and my ways are in Christ. (So, too, are
his.) He will teach just as I teach in every church” (1Co 4:17). Paul’s message was consistent. It
wasn’t one set of instructions for this place, and another for that.
No. It’s one gospel. It doesn’t require tuning to the culture. Paul
wasn’t going to play that game. Neither would Timothy. Here is the
Truth. Accept it. Live it.
And he did. That’s clear from what follows. But it’s equally clear
from testimony throughout Paul’s writings, and through the book of Acts
as well. When a church needs help, and Paul cannot go in
person, who does he send? Timothy! Timothy, head up to Thessalonica
and see how they’re doing. We had to leave too soon, and they need
more teaching. Help them out, and then report back to me how they’re
doing. And he did. Timothy, Corinth is dealing with some serious
issues. They need firm guidance. Get over there. And he did. Did
he find himself over his head in that case? Some suggest so,
supposing that this is why Titus was sent along afterwards. Perhaps
so. But then, perhaps Paul needed Timothy back for other reasons.
And of course, here at the stage when Paul is in prison, there’s
Timothy alongside him, ready to do whatever Paul needs done.
As to his heart, we see that exposed here, as well, a testimony of
that ‘same love, patience, and perseverance.’
He will, as the Weymouth translation phrases it, ‘cherish a genuine
care for you.’ But it’s more than that. I’ll take from Wuest. He
will ‘genuinely and with no secondary regard for
himself be concerned about your circumstances.’ You see?
Even here, translation finds it needful to draw in from the next verse
to fully convey this one. But what a testimony! He, when he comes,
will have your circumstances, your welfare, not merely first in his
thoughts, but exclusively so. He will spend himself for your benefit,
even as Paul has done. So, I don’t suppose I’m too far afield with my
attempt at this. “I’m sending you my best man. No other more closely
reflects my own devotion to the gospel, and devoted concern for your
growth in faith.” You can’t do better than that, folks. Until I can
come to you myself, you couldn’t ask for a better man to attend to
your training and edification.
There’s some interesting phrasing going on here in the Greek, which
really requires a bit of trained imagination, I think, to derive
proper meaning. What we have presented as ‘your
welfare’ is, in the Greek, ta peri:
the around. Okay, that makes no sense at all, does it? Thayer offers
a further sense of peri, as concerning,
so, it’s the concerning. Still doesn’t get us there, does it? But we
can add humon, and now we have something
like the concerning you, or to get it nearer to English, your
concerns, or as the KJV renders it, for your state. We might offer, ‘for your condition.’
By way of negative contrast, Paul speaks of others among his
associates, whose concerns are primarily about ta
hauton, the themselves. Note: He’s not speaking of
unbelievers here, nor is he considering backsliders, if such a concept
even entered his thoughts at all. He’s talking about those laboring
together with him in ministry, and that might leave us with something
of a sour note. It doesn’t seem, right, does it, that Paul should
speak so poorly of his coworkers in communicating with these folks up
north. Who else was here? And who would not have heard this
description of their efforts? After all, we understand well enough
that Paul dictated his letters for another to write. These weren’t,
then, entirely private thoughts. Of course, Paul was not one to keep
his opinions to himself, was he? If they heard and it offended them,
so be it. Perhaps they’ll take the hint and focus more on Christ.
Perhaps not. But they’ll know the truth, and know that the truth is
known.
Yet, this point is dismissed almost as soon as it’s made, and Paul’s
back on Timothy and his character. He will promote your best
interests. That’s not to say that he’ll tickle your ears, tell you
what you want to hear. It means he’ll tell you what you need
to hear, rather like that little jab in verse 21.
That, too, was a matter of love, love that cared enough to tell the
truth. Perhaps it was something he had already addressed with them
personally, so not really some gossip-adjacent slip of the tongue
here. It’s almost a caution, isn’t it? Test those messengers who
come your way. Test those who claim to proclaim the same gospel, even
if they claim my authorization. It’s not their claims that prove the
point. It’s their genuineness. It’s the example they live before
you.
So, back to Timothy, and what does he say? You know. You know
his proven worth. You have had the test
of his character. You have experienced his devotion to Christ, and as
such, to your concerns. Here, we come back to one of those English
words that require us to go to the Greek constantly, so as to discern
just what sort of knowing we’re talking about. In this case, it is
not the more common eido of intuited,
learned knowledge. This is experiential knowledge: ginosko.
You’ve tasted and seen, as it were. This is the sort of knowing David
had in mind when he wrote, “O taste and see that
the Lord is good!” (Ps 34:8).
It’s the sort of knowing he himself knew. “I
sought the LORD and He answered me! He delivered me from all my
fears” (Ps 34:4). “This
poor man cried and the LORD heard him, and delivered him out of all
his troubles” (Ps 34:6). Same
thought, different phrasing. David had tasted of the Lord’s
goodness. He had seen the Lord’s responsiveness to his need. Oh,
indeed, the LORD is good! Now, you, too! Experience His goodness.
Sometimes, I think, it’s simply a matter of us tuning our
perceptions. It may also be that we need to remember the necessity of
prayer in our lives. How shall we taste and see His answer if we
never cry out in our need? We are too accustomed to dealing with it
ourselves, too reliant on our own strength.
There’s a song I know from Sixpence None the Richer, though I’m not
sure it’s theirs originally. But there’s a verse in there that hits
home on this line of thought. “Well it seems that
my weakness is sometimes my only strength, and in my incompleteness
You get Your way.” Now, that song proceeds to the
declaration that she’s, ‘waiting on the sunshine.’
If I can pull that back to a Pauline perspective, “I’m
waiting on the Son.” Or the Davidic perspective. I’m
waiting to see what God will do. I’ve tasted. I’ve seen. I know His
record. I can trust in His proven character. And it’s this same
general perspective (albeit on a much different plane) that Paul is
bringing to his commendation of Timothy. You know! You’ve
experienced his selfless concern for your spiritual well-being.
You’ve seen how fully he lives this gospel we both preach. You’ve had
the test of him, and by that test, you know him approved. You know
you can count on him, and you know you can count on his teaching. And
this, so far as we have record, would appear to have been the case
wherever Timothy was ministering. It’s a testimony as consistent as
that of Paul himself.
That’s not to say Timothy never had low points. There is a sense,
throughout the various articles one can find on Timothy, that during
his time in Ephesus he was dealing with such a low point. Some will
put it down to a certain timidity of spirit in the man. Others
suggest that maybe he was finding it hard to resist the temptations of
a richer, softer life. Be that as it may, we are none of us perfect.
I have no doubt but that Paul himself had seasons of doubt. He had a
particularly rich gifting, to be sure, as did others among the
Apostles. But what we have preserved for our edification is not the
whole of the man’s life. We aren’t really given to know where his
thinking was as he languished in prison back in Caesarea Philippi, nor
what thoughts raced through his mind as he weathered storms at sea.
But we do glimpse the Spirit coming to his aid repeatedly, filling him
with an almost inhuman resilience. We see that, whatever lows he may
have hit, the Spirit soon lifted him back to reliance on God. So it
was with David, too. Many of his psalms begin on an anxious note, or
a vengeful note, only to work themselves round to a more God-focused
perspective, restoring his soul to peace, his heart to trust.
So, let’s try and bring this round to something like an application,
shall we? Perhaps it’s a function of growing older, or perhaps it’s a
result of truly maturing, but I find myself thinking occasionally
about what sort of legacy I leave behind when it’s time for me to go
home to my Lord. Now, I’m not considering monuments or fame or any
such thing, but one wonders. Who will care at my passing? What is it
that they will remember about me? That, in turn, must turn our
thoughts toward what people think of me now. So, are we supposed to
become people-pleasers? No. That would hardly be the point. But
even of our Lord it was written that he increased in wisdom, stature,
and in favor with God and men (Lk
2:52). And Paul encourages us to be at peace with all
men, insofar as it lies with us to do so (Ro
12:18). When we consider whom we should call to serve as
elders in our churches, they are to be such as ‘have
a good reputation with those outside the church’ (1Ti
3:7) as well as demonstrating godly character, and ability
with scripture.
All of this is to say that character counts. It counts with God, and
it counts with those we deal with day to day. We talk about not
judging anybody, and some take that to extremes, as though having
opinions or assessments of any sort is ungodly, but the fact is that
we make judgments about the character of those we deal with
constantly, and they in turn are assessing our character. We need to
know who we can trust, who we can rely on. And we need to know who
should be avoided, and kept at a distance. We don’t speak of our
deepest concerns and troubles with just anybody. We reserve that to
those who are proven, tested. And is that not exactly what Paul has
advised in regard to Timothy here? You know his proven worth. He’s
been tested and weighed in your presence, and you know he is
legitimate and reliable.
Yet, we often don’t really know the assessments people have made
about us. It’s not really a question you can ask. Hey, man, what do
you really think of me? For one, it just sounds like you’re either
really conceited or really insecure. But doesn’t it come to mind, now
and again, to wonder what others think? Am I found capable at work,
or considered one to be tolerated? Am I known more for humor or
wisdom? Am I found humble or arrogant? To put it in somewhat of a
clichéd form, when I go, what shall be my epitaph? What shall they
write on my tombstone, should there be one? Perhaps little enough.
Name and dates. But really, what shall be the testimony of my life?
This is not a prideful question. It’s not a seeking after fame or
notoriety. It’s really a question about how my progress in living
godly is going even at present. After all, what I shall be remembered
for then is what I am now, who I am now. And who I am in my head
won’t count. Who am I in practice? Am I such as could be accounted
tested, proven genuine and reliable? Or am I tested and found
wanting?
Let me offer a bit of encouragement from what we know of Timothy. As
I have observed, many, if not most of the articles written about this
young man spend time considering what it was that made it necessary
for Paul to write those letters to him. They seem to reveal, perhaps,
a bit of timidity on his part, as he is encouraged not to stand back
because of his relative youth. Or, perhaps he had succumbed in some
degree to the temptations of life. There’s this whole exploration of
his weakness, a probing for failings. I think there’s something in us
that tries to do this with any man, even Paul or John, certainly
Peter. How often do we speak of Peter and chuckle just a bit? Ah
yes, Peter the hot-head, always speaking before he thinks, quick to
respond but slow to consider. Heh. Yeah, he’s one of us. Paul? I
don’t know man, too educated, too Hellenistic, perhaps. And John?
Nice guy and all, but seriously? What was he smoking? Okay, perhaps
we don’t go to those extremes. Perhaps we actually hold the Apostles
just a bit too highly elevated in our regard, as men who could do no
wrong. And both paths would be incorrect. I think the testimony of
Paul and Barnabas sums it up. “We are men of the
same nature as you” (Ac 14:15).
That’s rather the point. It was never about the man. It was and is
about God.
So, yes, if we probe deeply enough, we will find faults. If we are
probed deeply enough, faults will be found as well. We know that. We
have our lows. We have our times of weakness, and I don’t imagine we
can find exception to that rule. Everyone has their days. Some of us
have more of them than others. But it’s not the low points that
define us. Neither is it the highs, for all that. No, it’s the
trajectory, the trendline. Where I am going is this. For all that
Timothy may have had his failings, his low points, even perhaps
abiding character flaws, the overall testimony of his life remains
admirable. It remains, “You know from experience
his proven worth.” And brother, if there remains like
testimony in regard to me when I am no longer here to make an
impression, I will have done well. If my legacy, such as it may be,
includes such an assessment, I shall have done well.
Well, how do we encourage such a testimony? I suppose the answer is
pretty obvious, isn’t it? Live worthy of the reputation you would
have. Live according to your beliefs. And shape those beliefs by the
word of God. I like to think that is the exercise I am undertaking in
these morning hours, spent in consideration of God’s word. Though I
must admit they often veer off after what may be mere musings, or
poking at my own concerns, my own pet peeves, or what have you. But I
am convinced that this is at least part of what it means to meditate
on God’s word. It’s not just reading it until it’s memorized. It’s
not just parsing the language and dealing with it in scholarly
fashion. It’s about allowing it to drive our thinking, to turn our
thoughts in unexpected directions, and speak to those things coming to
mind. After all, if the Holy Spirit has been invited into these
times, if our desire has been that He would help us to understand and
apply, should we not expect that He is involved in those unexpected
turns? What may seem to be random wanderings of contemplation are, I
tend to think, the Holy Spirit getting my attention, pointing me to
application, perhaps pointing me to those areas that need work.
And if that is the case, well! What shall I make of this? I think
there is cause to truly ask and consider whether in fact I am living
my beliefs, or whether that only applies within specific boundaries,
such as the hour or so I am here in the morning, at men’s group, and
at church? Am I the same man at work that I am in those pursuits? Am
I the same man at home as I am at church? Does my wife or my daughter
encounter the same man of character as presents in that setting? I
hope so. But I also know how readily I can compartmentalize, how
readily I can come to blend in, as it were, to the setting. It may be
little more than going silent when talk goes in a direction I don’t
care to follow, particularly in matters of politics or religion. I
suppose it’s the culture I grew up in, but it’s just not stuff I care
to talk about that much; too divisive, too likely to devolve into
either echo-chamber mutual admiration, or angry denouncements, and I
just don’t need it. That’s just how I am. But how should I be? Do I
live my beliefs?
That’s a hard question already, but I suspect the answer is
necessarily yes. The real question, then, is what do I really
believe? After all, actions speak louder, right? Are my beliefs
truly shaped by God’s word? Do I act like it? I think I can say that
sometimes, yes, I do. I think I can also find plentiful examples
where, no, I didn’t. I would like to believe I’m not at all alone,
nor even unusual in this. We are all of us a mixed bag. But it’s a
reasonable yardstick for maturity, to consider to what degree my
answers are positive, and to what degree negative. And I’m not sure I
like the answer.
Lord, I need You. That much is beyond evident. And yet, so very
often, I become too full of myself, too ready to simply assume
myself right. Seems a bit of a family trait, sometimes, and I see
it with wry humor in other members of my tribe, may even have a
laugh about it in myself at times. But it’s unhealthy. It’s an
outgrowth of arrogance, and as such, it needs to go. And I find
myself powerless to uproot this weed. I need You. I need You
shaping my character and my practice, working in me both to be
willing to Your good work, and to be pursuing it. I have become
indolent, too ready to be amused and distracted, and then to whine
about how little time I have. Work upon me, Father. Holy Spirit,
keep speaking to my conscience, and let me not simply remain in this
state. I was made to grow, so as You have shown me this place in
need of pruning, that place in need of nurturing, let me be about
it, and let me find You in that work.
Confident Trust (08/05/24)
This passage began on a note of hope, a hope we should understand as
bearing its full biblical sense of confident expectation. Yet, hope
remains, of necessity, a contingent matter to which some degree of
uncertainty may remain. This holds, in particular, when we are
considering matters that are not entirely set upon the revealed will
of God, not specifically involved with His salvific workings, or His
covenant promises. There, hope has every reason for absolute
confidence, for He is faithful to His promises. But that’s not
applicable to Paul’s objects of hope in this passage. These are
planning hopes, prayed over, I am sure, yet still entirely subject to
God’s veto as well as to the unknowable contingencies of changing
circumstances. There are many things Paul had planned to do which did
not turn out as hoped. God, it seems, had other plans. So, perhaps
we ought to be a bit careful of always hearing elpis with this degree of confidence, of being
too wooden in our efforts of interpretation. I wonder if it wasn’t
just such an over-insistence on certainty in this hope that led to
misunderstandings as to changes in Paul’s travel itinerary on previous
occasions.
But come to the end of this passage, and we have a different matter
entirely. Now, we are truly arrived at trust, trust such as lies at
the base of faith. This is a case of being convinced by the
arguments, or by the evidence. Add that it is set forth in the
perfect tense, which adds to the certainty. Paul’s expectation of
release is a matter arrived at based on available evidence. He has
seen first hand how his own jailors have responded to this gospel. He
has seen, I expect, how his likely inquisitors have assayed his
character and his case. In spite of the length of this imprisonment,
in spite of those at court who might be against him, still his
steadfast uprightness will win through. Consider that the testimony
of the captain who brought him to Rome from Caesarea Philippi would be
heard as well, and what will that testimony convey of him? He could
have slipped away, one suspects. He had made enough friends there in
Sicily to evade the guards had he chosen to. But in fact, he had
aided the captain repeatedly, even preventing those very guards from
abandoning the ship and fleeing in their own right. So, yes, he has a
good case here. The evidence from other occasions must hold as well,
that he has remained, in spite of ill treatment, a model citizen, and
an upholder of civil jurisprudence. For all that, he could probably
produce a copy of Romans, and point to his own
teaching on respecting civil authority. He has plentiful reason to
expect release.
But let me temper this point just a bit. His confident expectation
here is not simply a matter of knowing his case and awareness of his
judges. If there is confidence, true confidence, it comes of knowing
God, of having experience with God. If his trust now is the present
result of past action, as the perfect tense denotes, that past action
is God’s doing. Is that made necessary by the syntax? No. The
perfect tense is used by unbelievers as well as believers, and they,
too, may establish their expectations based on such evidence as is put
before them. Was a time, at least in our romanticized memories, when
political choices were generally made on such a basis. One who had
proven themselves in some way locally, who was at least somewhat of a
known quantity, was put forward as a candidate, and those who voted,
voted based on the evidence that this one would in fact pursue their
best interests in office. Now? It seems far more effort goes into
making sure we don’t learn too much about the candidates. But I
digress.
We’re not here for politics. We’re here for an understanding of God,
for edification, for an increase in our own trust in Him, as we
perceive from Scripture the mounting arguments for faith in Him, for
trust in Him, for absolute reliance on this Christ Who has purchased
our lives, and brought us into this process of sanctification. Our
trust in Him is assuredly a present result of past action. Apart from
His past action, we should have no basis for faith at all. The best
we could manage is wishful thinking, or that highly contingent, maybe
things will work out, sort of hope we see in other religions around
us. Maybe, if I’m caught in just the right sort of act when I die,
this god will choose to accept me. There’s no certainty. There can
be none. Maybe this cycle through life, I will have progressed enough
to escape the endless repetition. But it can’t be known until it’s
over. And here, it seems God is almost entirely absent from the whole
matter. Animism? Where’s that even going to get you once this life
is over? Unclear. But God, being intimately involved in our daily
lives, in our progressing sanctification, is tangible. Indeed, by the
testimony of His own word, He indwells us, not as being the same as
us, but that intimately connected.
I was reading in Psalm 139 this morning,
as a reference from the day’s Table
Talk article. That is a text that has become dear to me
for many reasons, not least having it on CD from Iona’s Dave
Bainbridge, where in the setting of music, it is read by an Irish
poet/priest with all that his accent and demeanor bring to the
experience. This was something I listened to on the return flight
from Malawi last year, and it was absolutely charged on that
occasion. “Where can I go from Thy Spirit? Where
can I flee from Thy presence? If I ascend to heaven, Thou art
there; if I make my bed in Sheol, behold, Thou art there. If I take
the wings of the dawn, if I dwell in the remotest part of the sea,
even there Thy hand will lead me, and Thy right hand will lay hold
of me” (Ps 139:7-10). I could go
on, but that suffices. God is with us – intimately, constantly with
us, ever leading, ever laying hold. He who as called you His own
isn’t giving up on you, isn’t leaving you to chance.
Elsewhere, Paul’s travel plans remain matters of hope. To Philemon,
he writes that he hopes to be given to him through his prayers (Phm 22). He hopes to come by, but can’t really
say for sure. To the recipients of Hebrews, the author (which may or
may not be Paul) writes that with Timothy’s release from prison, he
hopes to travel with him to come visit soon (Heb
13:23). Now, with that last, it’s hard to know the time
being referenced. We have no other indication that I know of for
Timothy’s imprisonment. It would not seem to connect to this present
setting. Perhaps it was to do with the second imprisonment that Paul
underwent, but given his letters to Timothy at that time, with their
note of it being his time to go, that seems highly unlikely. But
then, there are periods in Timothy’s ministry that are not detailed
for us. It could have been at any point. And it could as readily
have been Apollos or some other who was writing on this occasion.
Let me try and get back on track. There is sound reason for
confident trust in God, and this is so because we have significant
past experience with Him. Yesterday was a testimony Sunday at church,
the pastor being away. This is something of a new development for our
church. Used to be we’d bring in a guest preacher if we ran out of
elders present and equipped to teach, but no more, apparently. That
aside, there is something that rings out as a constant in these
testimonies, and that is the foundation of past experience. Faith is
sound today because it has had significant cause. We can go back
across our lives, for most of us, seeing the potentialities there for
a far different outcome. We can, perhaps more of us than one might
suspect, perceive just how readily we could have become the homeless
junkies. We see the many pitfalls that we weren’t just failing to
evade, but were actively running towards. We can see those moments
that we thought we were really something, where the something we
really were was particularly stupid and foolhardy. And yet, we
survived. And yet, somehow, we persisted until such time as we would
hear God’s call and answer it.
What happened? There was but one testimony yesterday from somebody
who had, to the best of his knowledge never not known Christ and His
call. Yet, even there, there was the admission of a period in life
which was spent ignoring God, if not actually rejecting Him as
vehemently as some of us had done. There were some other shared
themes here; such as God working through future spouses to bring men
to faith. That resonates. But it’s not that women are somehow the
magic key to salvation. By no means! Praise God for His grace, and
for the provision He makes for us in marriage, but that’s not anywhere
near the explanation. No. God chose. There’s your explanation. God
decided, and God spoke, and so it was. There, and there alone is our
place for confident trust. Where He has spoken, we have plentiful
proof of reliability. The pages of Scripture are filled with it. It
is so starkly evident that skeptics have difficulty accepting the
validity of the text. How could such accurate statements as these
have been made prior to the historical event? They had to come
later. And yet, the best evidence, even the evidence of scientific
inquiry, continues to support their validity and their age. But even
apart from this, we have personal experience of His reliability, His
steadfastness, and His love.
We have seen, after all, the actions He has undertaken to preserve us
thus far. And we know so many others whose lives were likewise
preserved against the odds. I used to be this, and now I am that, and
why? It wasn’t some urge or desire on my part. It wasn’t diligent
preparation to become what I wished to be. No, that’s what was taking
me the other way. Having grown up in an age and an area where the
common expectation was that life might make it to 30, but no farther,
and our daily quest was summed up in the joke, “How
many are enough, and how much is too many?” Ooh. Let me
alter my perceptions for a time. Let me escape this present existence
for a bit, and enter into fantasyland. Why? Was it because the news
of the day was so dire? I don’t honestly think we paid much attention
to news. After all, that was the boring 6 o’clock hour, endured at
best, in order to get to the entertaining stuff that came on at 8.
And by the 10 o’clock news hour, we were either in bed, or too far
gone to pay it any mind. No, it was more to do with boredom, and with
fitting in.
I suppose these testimonies got me thinking a bit about my own,
looking back across my own life. School was a place with effectively
two groups, jocks and druggies. There really wasn’t a place for those
who might actually have been there to learn, assuming there were any
such. If you wanted to fit in, it was going to be one group or the
other. And who, frankly, wants to self-isolate in that age group?
We’re looking for associates, seeking friendships, such as they are.
So, pick your group. Well, it certainly wasn’t going to be sports,
not with my physique. So, druggies it was. Besides, they had better
music. Eh. Whatever. I don’t know as I gave it a great deal of
thought. This was just where the fun appeared to be, and off I went.
Thank God He saw fit to preserve me. Thank God that in spite of my
best efforts, He kept this brain of mine intact. It may have been
rewired a tad, but it’s intact, and it’s served me well enough.
So, yes. I can look at my past in wonder that I survived it. There
are those two or three key moments that really were crucial, though I
would not have recognized it at the time. And it wasn’t me that
brought me through safe and sound. No. In the first event, it wasn’t
me suddenly developing the resolve to say no to the guy offering to
man the needle. Neither was it his inability. I can only say that it
was God preserving me against my own stupid folly. In the second,
though I put it down to my fine driving skills and a good car, it was
no such thing. I had no business surviving the maneuver I pulled on
black ice at that speed. I should have been either into the wall or
into one of the other vehicles slowly sliding across my path. But I
wasn’t. I went through, safe and sound, if somewhat shaken. I could
think of other times. God apparently had plans, and I wasn’t exactly
doing my best to fulfill them. But here I am. Am I fulfilling them
now? I don’t know. Perhaps it was all to line up these trips to
Africa, but I somehow doubt it. Perhaps it’s to do with bringing my
daughter into life, and one still hopes, delivering her into a life of
faithfulness to God in her own turn. But I don’t know as I gave that
enough, either. Is it about the music? Nah. I guess I don’t
entirely know, even yet. But I know God has me, and He intends to
keep me. That knowing: That’s the present result of past action.
That’s the convincing by argument and evidence upon which faith
rests. Yet, the foundation remains the revealed Christ, Who died for
me to make this even possible.
That’s what this all comes down to. We know God’s
proven love and faithfulness. As these Philippians knew Timothy’s
proven worth, we know God’s proven love. We’ve had experience of it.
We have experience of it daily, if only we open our eyes to see it.
He’s proven faithful in our most faithless moments. He’s remained
reliable when we were actively rejecting Him. And He remains reliable
now. Our God is with us. Go back to that Psalm. “My
frame was not hidden from Thee when I was made in secret. For You
formed my inward parts. You wove me in my mother’s womb” (Ps 139:13-14). This wasn’t some special,
reserved testimony for psalmists or prophets. This is the story of
every child of mankind. Whatever human equation we might put to it,
whatever scientific knowledge may be applied to the process of
procreation, the fact remains unchanged: You made me. The Sovereign
God, Who has charge of the whole universe, Who dictates the course of
stars and planets, and as well, the boundaries and bounds of empires
and nations, is there in the small stuff, as well. Not even a sparrow
falls to the ground without His not only being aware of it, but having
determined it. This is the God who has numbered
your days, who knows with exactitude every hair remaining on your
body. This is your foundation for certainty, for faith. He has
you. He cares for you.
And all of this, I think, informs this certainty Paul expresses in verse
24. I know my God’s care for me, and that He yet has plans
for me, desires my work for His kingdom. I know, too, that He loves
you, and His devoted concern for your wellbeing. I am confident that
your wellbeing is at least a part of His intention to see me released
and back to work. So, yes, I fully expect to be coming your way.
Why? Because God.
You see, then, that there is a place for confident trust in God’s
future actions, and that confident trust is built on past experience.
Honestly, that’s pretty much the sum of faith, isn’t it? Why do we
have faith in God? Because He’s proven faithful. He is tried and
true. It’s not just some rational perception of the body of doctrine
we follow, though I would insist that this body of doctrine stands up
to rational scrutiny, and holds together as none other. Contrary to
popular opinion, faith is utterly rational, founded on evidence.
Contrary to popular opinion, science and logic have their foundation
in the same utterly rational foundation, which is to say the
reliability and knowability of God. Were He not there to set the
order of things, there could be no order. Were there no order, there
could be no knowing. Were there no knowing, there could be only
fantasy and vain speculation. If God is not, then those who insist
there is not fundamental truth, only the vague and malleable truth of
personal experience and opinion, have at least some basis for their
views. But God is. And because He is, Truth is. And Truth does not
bow to the latest trend. Truth does not depend upon acceptance.
Reality will not, in fact, give way to your strongest desire to live a
fantasy. Every fantasy must, in the end, come crashing down when it
hits reality. Far better, then, to accede to the evidence, to bend
the knee to the Lord of all, and receive His proffer of forgiveness
and acceptance.
How blessed I am to know His proven love, His proven faithfulness.
How very differently this could have all turned out. How great a
shipwreck I could have made of it, would have made of it, left to
myself. But He didn’t leave me to myself. He didn’t let go, and let
Jeff. He laid hold of me, and I am forever grateful that it is so.
And because He has laid hold of me, I can look heavenward and say with
like confidence with Paul, “I fully expect to be
coming Your way as well.” Not because I am something, but
because He is everything.