New Thoughts: (09/05/24-09/12/42)
Taking Out the Garbage (09/06/24)
In the last section, Paul looked back upon his life prior to Christ,
when he thought himself a paragon of the Jewish religious community.
He had thought very much like these troublers of the church against
whom he is now writing. As we come into this part of the text, it’s
needful to recognize that Paul is making the same point, continuing on
the same line of reasoning. Look! I had the same perspective as they
now do. All these things they count as markers of progress in piety,
I can check them off for myself as well. Been there, done that.
Indeed, if we’re going to play a game of credentials, I’ve got them
beat on every score.
Now, he moves from past practice to present. Yeah, I had all that
going for me. I was on my way, climbing the ladder. But do you know,
when I met Jesus, I saw it all for what it was. All that I had
pursued in thoughts of drawing closer to God was in fact pushing me
away from Him. It wasn’t Him I was impressing, it was me, and those I
sought to account my peers. It wasn’t piety, then, not by any healthy
definition. It was pride. Pride disguised as piety may be some of
the most rancid of characteristics we can develop. This is spiritual
pride. This is the development of religiosity – a thing quite
distinct from true religion – loudly decrying, “Look
at me!”
Bad news: God does. And He’s found it wanting, severely wanting.
What does He require of us? You likely know where this thought is
going. Do justice. Love kindness. And most significantly, walk humbly
with your God (Mic 6:8). What
had this whole list of credentials been about? Was there anything of
justice to it? Obedience, perhaps, at least within the limits of
understanding, but not justice. No. What merit was Paul to claim in
being born to Jewish parents? Was this somehow evidence of justness
and kindness? It’s about as useful as you producing your birth
certificate and expecting it to get you a seat at the table at some
high-end restaurant. It’s nice and all, and may have value in its
proper application, but it means nothing here.
By the time he reaches the end of his review, we find him persecuting
the Church God had established in Christ on the basis of his zeal for
God! Oh! But he had the backing of the temple on that, and indeed,
as he indicates in other reviews of his record, when they called for
the entirely unwarranted death sentence upon their co-religionists for
the crime of knowing Jesus Messiah, Paul was right there to cast his
vote in favor of that verdict (Ac 26:10).
It still amazes me that this particular detail comes out as he is
defending himself before Roman authorities as his own life has come
under threat from those of a like zealousness to that which he
recounts here. But how does this accord with seeking justice, loving
kindness? Justice didn’t enter into it, and it would be hard indeed
to account wresting people from their homes, ruining their livelihood
at best, and costing them their lives at worst, as somehow a kindness.
What’s worse by far is all of these undertakings demonstrated that
for all the spiritual pride of these find defenders of God’s holiness
(or really, of their personal position and power), they knew nothing
of God. Oh, they knew Him as a fearsome power to be dealt with
carefully. They knew Him in a sense not so different from how those
pagan societies around them knew their own demonic gods. But they
didn’t know Him as He is, as He reveals Himself to be. They knew a
tyrant that must be obeyed on pains of death and worse. They knew Him
as a means to power on their own part. They knew that by promoting
their intricate lattice of rules and regulations they could maintain
power, maintain a façade of prestige, and enjoy the best of the land.
But love? Kindness? Justice? Didn’t really enter into the
equation.
We see, then, that spiritual pride, which so often fuels such
zealousness, too often turns out to be spiritual hypocrisy. And if
there’s one thing Jesus denounced with utmost vehemence during His
brief ministry here on planet earth, it is hypocrisy. From His
earliest teaching, there are warnings against that model of piety. “Don’t do as the hypocrites do” (Mt
6:2, Mt 6:5, Mt
6:16). They perform to be seen and noted. You, if you would
please God, do what is right in silence, in secret, even. And by the
end, it’s become a true assault. “Woe to you,
scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites!” (Mt
23:31-29). Oh, you’ve got such fine looking practices, but
it’s all looks and nothing of substance. God will not put up with
such activity. He will not have His name sullied by those who talk a
good game, but in reality are, to take Jesus’ description, “white-washed
tombs full of dead men’s bones.”
Throughout, this was the mindset that drew Christ’s most vehement
anger. And let there be no doubt, it was godly anger. How could it
not be, coming, as it did from God Incarnate? And Paul was right
there, absorbing the blows and so caught up in the hypocrisy that he
no doubt felt the whole thing not just unwarranted, but evidence of
error in its own right. But he was wrong. So very, very wrong. It
took Jesus knocking the wind out of him, figuratively, to bring him to
his senses. His sight was taken from him temporarily in order that he
might truly see. Now, having seen the error of his ways and the true
heart and spirit of God, he was a firebrand once more, but this time
turned the same direction as Jesus, ready to knock down every sort of
spiritual pride and hypocrisy.
That’s what happens here. We’ve had the wind-up. We’ve had the
comparison drawn, and you can almost imagine these Judaizers listening
along, nodding their heads, checking their spiritual bingo cards.
Yep, yep, yep. He’s checking all the boxes. I can do the same, at
least those at the start of the list. And they might even have been
excitedly puffing up at the mention of his having persecuted the
church, fighting to bring them back in line with Mosaic practice and
punishing those who led God’s people astray. Yes! Yes! Hurray for
our side! And now comes the knock out.
All of that I just listed? All of those credentials I thought so
important, those you think so necessary to mark out a true believer?
Garbage! Having found Christ (or more properly, having been found by
Christ Who sought me out and smacked me up side the head to bring me
to my senses), I see that all of those credentials of mine were not
buying me anything. In fact, they were costing me. They were
increasing the weight of sin in my account. Piety? Far from it!
He’s lining right up behind Jesus here. It’s a marvelous coincidence
of God’s timing (which is to say, no coincidence at all) that we are
reading Luke 11 this week for our men’s group. There is Jesus,
invited to dine with one of the Pharisees in Jerusalem, a meal no
doubt attended by many from their social class, as we find both
Pharisees and scribes present at table. And what’s their reaction to
this teacher? Offense! He didn’t wash His hands before dinner. Now,
Luke describes it simply as surprise, but why a surprise? This was in
their list of regulations. Mind you, I don’t think you’ll find it in
Leviticus, but it was in their myriad volumes of additional evidences
of piety. And here, in the midst of this dinner at which He is a
guest, He just launches. Oh, yes, you Pharisees are ever so careful
with your baptisms of cup and platter, but look within! You’re full
of robbery and wickedness! (Lk 11:37-39).
Can you imagine such a thing around your own dinner table? We’re not
talking sons or daughters perhaps seeking to establish their
independence. We’re talking invited guests, folks you thought to be
doing an honor by having them over. And this is the way they repay
your kindness?
You can see the reaction, especially as He doesn’t stop there, but
runs through a brief list of their practices, revealing the hypocrisy
of each one. And the scribes at table pipe in. “Hey,
Jesus! It’s okay for You to take the Pharisees down a peg or two,
but You’re insulting us, too!” And then it gets serious
indeed. “Yeah, you guys? The blood of all the
prophets, from the beginning until now, shall be charged against
you.” And the conclusion lays bare the enormity of their
failure. “For you have taken away the key of
knowledge. You won’t enter in yourselves, and you do your best to
prevent anybody else from doing so” (Lk
11:51-52).
This is the background of Paul’s assault on the Judaizers. They’re
in the same place the Pharisees were. Or, if they’re not yet in the
same place, they’re on the same course. How had the Pharisees become
what they were? They started out so well. They wanted to obey. And
they wanted to be sure of it. So, they set the limits a bit back from
the black and white line of sin. Put the fence up a bit inside the
boundaries, lest one accidentally step foot over the line. It sounds
reasonable, and perhaps, in its original intent, it was actually
reasonable. As a matter of personal exercise, I don’t suppose it
would be in itself sinful. But it came to the point that what they
had chosen to do themselves became a demand made of everybody else.
It came to the point, a bit farther on, where their added regulations
were more important to them than the original. And along the way,
they lost the plot. They completely failed of understanding the
intent, of shaping character and seeking what pleases God. Indeed,
watching their reaction to Jesus, it’s clear they had utterly failed
of actually knowing God. All they knew was the rule book.
So, back to Paul. He gets it. He’s been where they still are; even
worse, if we suppose that these guys had at least acknowledged Jesus
to be the Messiah and not rejected Him outright. And now, having set
up the pins, he knocks them out in one shot. All that stuff I was
doing to be holy? It’s junk. Christ is all. Compared to knowing Him
– I mean, really knowing Him as He truly is, everything is
junk. All the stuff that we value so much in this life? Garbage! A
fine career? A house and family? Productive vineyards or whatever
other trade you may ply? Fat bank accounts? Worthless! Look at me!
Here I am in jail for the crime of seeking to live for Christ. I’ve
lost everything the world counts as worthwhile. I’ve lost everything
the Jews account important. But, so what? I’ve come to know Jesus,
and with that to my account, all the rest of this is garbage.
In fairness, garbage is not strong enough a term to convey what Paul
is saying here. He uses the term skubala,
which is a term we find nowhere else in Scripture. As such, there is
at least some debate as to its exact sense, but I’ll tell you this,
it’s not paper trash. It’s not boxes cut up and left curb-side. It’s
not even the trimmings from the vegetables that maybe you’ve put in
your composting pile. At best, we’re talking about
offal, those bits left over after butchering the meat as being unfit
for consumption. And do you know what became of such garbage as this
in the society of that day? You threw it to the dogs. That way, it
wouldn’t pile up in the street. But, on the other side of that
equation, it was this practice that had made foot-washing such a point
of order. To walk the streets barefoot, or even with sandals, was not
a sanitary affair. If you find it too awful to contemplate that you
might need to step around something the neighbor’s dog left as a
deposit, this was there as well, but also every other sort of trash;
rotting meat byproduct and whatever else needed disposing. Yeah,
you’d want to wash your feet, too.
And that gets us round to the other understanding of this word skubala. Rather than that which one might toss
to the dogs, it may very well refer to what results of the dogs having
eaten those scraps: Excrement. As the NET points out, this is a
declaration intended to shock the hearer. I have observed elsewhere
in preparatory efforts the degree to which our various translations
seek to hide his offensiveness here. “I count it
all as rubbish.” Okay, that’s fine. But it loses
something. Rubbish is a fairly tidy matter in our experience. I
mean, sure, the kitchen barrel may be a bit odiferous come trash day,
but we tie off the bag, set it curb-side, and soon enough it’s been
whisked away. None of that is present in Paul’s choice of words
here. I suspect the Message may come closest to conveying the
strength of his denunciation. “Everything I once
thought I had going for me is insignificant – dog dung.”
We’re getting closer. But I don’t think he’s being that gentle in his
language. I expect the NET is right, and he’s really looking to shock
with this declaration, and so, he’s calling it as it is. This is
dogshit! And this being a bible study, I feel a strong need to
apologize for stating it so, even though I would likely mutter
something along the same vein when dealing with some issue of coding
at work, or some tool not performing to my standards. I might indeed
take much the same tone addressing whatever the latest bit of
political turmoil happens to be this week, or the latest atrocious act
of the administration and its hangers-on.
Remember our context, where we started on this thread of Paul’s
message. “Beware of the dogs!” (Php
3:2). He’s already been turning their assessments on their
heads. They, proud Jews that they were, looked down upon these
benighted, uncircumcised Gentiles as dogs, creatures to whom you
might, I suppose, throw the scraps from your table, might allow in the
vicinity to scare off thieves, but hardly creatures to be welcomed
into the house. They’re unclean! This had been their argument. If
you would be truly clean, you must undergo circumcision, you must take
up the whole panoply of Jewish practice. What are they doing?
They’re throwing table scraps to the dogs. They’ll never view the
Gentiles as equals, not even if they comply fully with every demand of
Pharisaic practice.
And now, these Jews, who thought themselves the ones who would be at
the head of the banquet table in God’s heaven, the Gentiles, perhaps
permitted to wander the periphery like the dogs they are, find
themselves cast as the dogs, and their practices as – at best
– those worthless scraps they were throwing to the dogs as
they saw it. Far more likely, though, that he is taking that extra
step here, and observing that these dogs who thought themselves to be
displaying their greater piety, were in fact taking a dump. They were
a stench and an offense to God and man alike.
Let’s bring it back around to Jesus’ prior denunciation of their
approach to sanctification. “For you have taken
away the key of knowledge. You won’t enter in yourselves, and you
do your best to prevent anybody else from doing so.” All
this stuff you’re insisting the Gentiles must do to become acceptable
in the sight of God is in fact demonstrating a complete lack of
understanding as to Who God Is. You don’t know Him, yourselves.
That’s plain from the demands you’re making. You’ve been witness to
what God was doing in Christ Jesus. You are likely eyewitnesses to
those things. You’ve seen the manifestations of God’s kingdom having
come near. You’ve heard – I know you’ve heard – how the Holy Spirit
has been coming to these Gentiles you so despise. You’ve seen the
results. And rather than rejoice at the marvelously displayed mercy
of the Lord of all Creation, you’re offended because in your eyes
you’ve lost a bit of your former status. Brother, you never had
status. You never knew God, not really. And without a significant
change of course, comes that day when He returns, His reaction to your
attempt to join Him is going to resound with the doleful response, “Depart from Me. I never knew you.”
This brings us to the subject of the next part of the study, knowing
God. This is the one thing Paul sets forth as so valuable as to make
all the rest so insignificant and even despicable. Best, then, that
we take some time to consider just what it means to know God, or just
what it is that is so important to know in regard to Him.
Knowing God (09/07/24)
Before I shift fully to the matter of knowing God, I want to pause
just briefly on this matter of gain and loss. It is surely a
reflection of our living in a world focused on capital exchange, but
seeing these two words gets me thinking in terms of profit and loss.
But that is not really where Paul is going with his message, nor is it
where the words he has chosen to use are intended to point us. The
matter of gain that he has in view is less about acquisition and
profit, and more to do with such gains as come of escaping evil. The
one who has been fallen upon by bandits and finds himself rescued from
their evil intent has experienced real gain, even if he leaves that
encounter with no more than when it began. The one who is caught in a
trap knows gain when he somehow breaks free of it. This is far more
the perspective Paul is bringing when it comes to those practices that
he used to make his habit, his lifestyle. I thought that by doing all
these things I was pulling free of evil, which is at least a part of
what it means to be righteous. I thought I was delivering myself out
of the danger of experiencing God’s judgment.
In like fashion, this consideration of loss is not about bank
accounts draining, or being robbed of one’s savings. To be sure, his
present experience was having some such effect, for he was held
responsible to pay for his housing and upkeep while imprisoned there
in Rome. But that’s not what he has in mind. Rather, he is saying
all those practices he thought so valuable to his wellbeing turned out
to be to his detriment. They were not merely profitless in terms of
arriving at righteousness. They were trending in the other direction,
pulling him farther from it. And as he expands his scope, as he
considers all the stuff of life and living, he sees that all the
trappings of this life come to the same thing: They are pulling us
away from what matters, and as such, they are serving to our
detriment.
And with this perspective of that which is to our detriment versus
that which is rescuing us from evil, we come to the assessment he
makes of his current estate. Yes, I’ve suffered loss. I’ve suffered
the loss of those things the world values. I’ve suffered personal
detriment in that I spent so much of my life pursuing a false
righteousness. And I’ve suffered physically as a direct result of
having found true righteousness. That is going to bother us, I
expect. How can this be? Why should this be? Well, quite simply, it
is because many around us, if they have any interest at all in
righteousness, or at least considering themselves virtuous, are so
invested in their own invented means to esteem that to point out the
reality of the situation of them is simply unacceptable. But Paul’s
reaction to this loss, this detrimental impact both of his prior
pursuits and his present experience of worldly rejection on account of
having changed course, is that it’s less than nothing. Garbage!
Something to be scraped off one’s sandals.
And that brings us to the point of true gain, which again is more to
do with rescue from evil than serving as some means to financial
gain. What is of value in this battle against evil is knowing Christ
Jesus my Lord. And thus, the heading of this part of the study: “Knowing God.” This is far more than simply
knowing that He exists, or acknowledging that fact. It goes well
beyond whether one is suppressing the truth in unrighteousness,
although we might include that in what has been left behind. But a
larger part of the problem, particularly for one like Paul who had
been so diligent in pursuit of what he understood to be proper
religious practice, is that nothing in that practice reflected a real
knowledge of who God is. It led to a perception of God that was at
odds with the reality.
This is the tendency of all legalistic efforts. I might even go so
far as to say it lies at the root of them. These efforts have more to
do with pagan idolatry, with ignorance and fantasy. What was going on
with those other cultures around Israel, or with Rome and Greece, for
that matter? They had all manner of gods they ‘worshiped,’
but for the most part, what constituted worship fell into one of two
categories. On the one hand was the desire to appease or ward off the
attention of these gods. Maybe you could buy them off with an
appropriate offering, or a reasonable show of devotion, and they
would, depending on their nature, grant you some benefit, or at the
very least, not visit you with troubles. On the other hand were those
who thought, by making it part of the worship of their idol, to make
the unconscionable acceptable. Hey, if I’m leching for my god, it’s a
good thing, right? Wrong.
Now, pursuit of works-based, merit-based righteousness may not lead
us to considering the addition of cult prostitutes to our church
services (God forbid!) what are we to make of those who not only
welcome those coming out of lifestyles of perversion, but those who
still openly and positively pursue such lifestyles? And what are we
to make of it when these are not merely welcomed and then encouraged
toward positive change, but accepted as being perfectly fine with God
just the way they are? For all that, who among us can honestly assess
their present habit of life and suppose it’s all just perfectly fine
with God? If we could achieve such standing, then works righteousness
would make sense to pursue, and frankly, Jesus would become an
unnecessary feature. And that, in turn, would leave God, Who is
perfectly holy, as having spent long ages planning and pursuing a
course of unnecessary evil on the part of Jesus. Keep going, and we
now have a Jesus who is perversely determined to self-harm. These
things simply won’t do. They cannot hold true. For such to be true,
God would have to cease being God, and that is an impossibility for
the Self-existent One.
So, what this comes to is that these practices of self-induced
righteousness reflect a faulty knowledge of God at best, a complete
absence of the knowledge of God at worst. If you are serving God with
the mindset that you have to keep your nose clean lest He reject you
forever, then you haven’t known Him yet. If you are giving Him
lip-service, dutifully checking off your daily and weekly ritual
observances, but then getting back to life on your own terms, then you
don’t serve God. You serve some genie of your imagination. You’re
playing games like the pagans, hoping to do enough to appease Him,
maybe cajole a blessing out of Him, but you don’t know Him.
Notice that Paul doesn’t directly go to the experience of benefits
from God, nor to the being secured from His wrath, although that idea
is never far from sight. No! It’s knowing Who He truly is. And that
knowledge of which He speaks here is gnosis,
the knowledge that comes of experience, and speaks to an intimate
involvement in what is known. The far more frequent word for knowing
is oida, but that is more the intuiting of
truth from observation. This gnosis is
the stuff of experience. Here is the surpassing value: I have
intimate, experiential knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord. I know Him,
not just of Him, not just that He is in existence, but as one knows
their spouse (hopefully), as one knows their dearest friend. I know
Him like I know the pleasures of a sunny summer day spent walking the
woods. I know Him like I know the peace that comes of going to the
seashore and just sitting there and watching the waves roll in. I
know Him as He truly is because I have experience of Him as He truly
is. He is my constant companion, my Friend, my Beloved. And I am
His.
Wuest, not surprisingly, really captures this in his rendering of verse
8. “That which excels all others [is],
my knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord which I have gained through
experience.” I might add ‘of Him’
to the end of that. And this, in turn, reflects what has been from
the beginning. What was Adam’s chief blessing and experience? He
walked with God. It comes a bit late in the account of his time in
Eden, but in noting how, after he and Eve had violated the one rule
given them, we hear that “They heard the sound of
the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day” (Ge 3:8). This was not something they were
experiencing for the first time. More nearly, it was something they
were experiencing for the last. But it had been their experience to
that point, that God would come hang out with them, speak with them,
share life with them. Was He revealing all His inmost thoughts?
Probably not. But He was informing them of His ways, His character,
and He was doing so not merely by sitting them down for lessons, but
by the very fact that He chose to be there with them. He expressed
the nature of His essential being by being there.
Then, we can come to the prophets, and God’s message to man delivered
through them. In particular, we can have a look at what He speaks
through Jeremiah. “Let him who boasts boast that
he understands and knows Me” (Jer 9:24).
Now, had it stopped there, it wouldn’t be saying much. Such boasting
might or might not be true. And how much was known beyond the bare
fact of His existence remains unaddressed. But it doesn’t stop
there. He keeps going. What such a one knows is, “that
I am the LORD who exercises lovingkindness, justice, and
righteousness on the earth; for I delight in these things.”
That’s it! He sees who I Am. He applies this intelligence, and thus,
acts circumspectly. Bring back Hosea 6:8,
and we have that aspect of walking humbly with Him. He has perceived
and experienced the lovingkindness of God, that He should (going back
to the root word chacad which lies behind
checed) act towards us as towards an equal,
though we are so far short of any such equality. Thus, it is indeed a
kindness, a most generously merciful and gracious acceptance that we
find from Him.
We have experience of His impartial judgment, a judgment that bends
to no bribe, plays favorites towards no man, but, with a wisdom far in
excess even of Solomon’s renders due penalty upon the criminal, and
due recompense upon the innocent. Mind you, we also have experience
of the sad reality that there is no one truly innocent. And yes, we
see what seems to us justice delayed, but we know – again with an
experiential intimacy of knowing – that in due course justice shall be
served. The wicked, though they may go to the grave seemingly
unscathed, shall yet face the final tribunal, and shall suffer the due
penalty for their sins in full. The upright in heart, those whom God
has been pleased to redeem from their slavery to sin and to re-equip
with hearts attuned to Himself and the Spirit to guide and impel them
on their way, may suffer all manner of indignities and persecutions
and illness and what have you in this life. Indeed, take Jesus at His
word and you can be pretty well assured that this will be your
experience. But those who know the lovingkindness of God and the true
work of the Son, know that this life is but a blip, and eternity
awaits; an eternity in which has been stored up a very real recompense
in glory.
Most critically, I think, we come to know God’s righteousness. We
have come to the experiential recognition that He is indeed Good. His
every undertaking is morally virtuous. His every decision as concerns
ourselves is for our best and ultimate good. That is the verdict we
have from Romans. “God causes all things to work
together for good to those who love God, those who are called
according to His purpose” (Ro 8:28).
And I cannot emphasize enough that this verse says nothing of works.
It’s about His call. And His call is again an expression of that
lovingkindness of checed. He has been merciful. He has not left you
wallowing in your sins, but has rather supplied the way of escape.
There’s that gain again. He’s pulled you free of what was your most
mortal danger. And, if we come to Peter’s epistles, we know He didn’t
stop there. He didn’t just pull you out, and then leave you to fend
for yourself as best you could. No! He supplies us with everything
needful for life and godliness, and that, from His own divine power (2Pe 1:3-4). We have been recreated as
partakers of the divine nature! You want graciousness? There it is
in fullest supply.
This is God, Whom you have come to know as He has worked His
transformation upon you. The Holy Spirit has entered in, opening
eyes, ears, and understanding to perceive the wonder of God, the love
of God, the goodness of God. The transformative impact of a spirit
reborn within you has resulted in a heart able to love God for Who He
truly is, a mind to know both experientially and intuitively
just how truly Good He is. And so, knowing God, we come to assess our
circumstances differently. We don’t bemoan (at least not
constantly). We assess. Okay. God is in charge, and this is
happening. God is good, and acts for my good, because I know He has
called me. The Holy Spirit testifies that it is so. Ergo, whatever I
may think of these present events, they are in fact for my good, and
my best course is to seek understanding as to how that is so. My best
course is prayer.
Lord, help me to do just that. Help me to understand Your
purpose in these early mornings of late. Help me to see the good
You are doing in the difficulties our daughter is facing. And by
all means, let me again say thank You for the way You have been
carrying her through those difficulties. It’s clear to me that You
have intentions for her. I pray You might make that clear to her as
well, and grant her that same change of heart that You granted me,
that she might indeed come to know Your goodness and love, and to
love You in response. I pray, as well, that You would so work on my
own heart, my own understanding, to better apply all that You teach
me to how I live my days. Teach me to rest in You, but to work in
Your strength and power as well. Grant that I might serve You in
ways that please You, and not just to please myself. And to the
degree I teach, whether by instruction or by example, hold me fast
in Your Truth, that the lessons I impart may be true to You in every
regard. In all, precious Lord, let my character be such as declares
my intimate, experiential knowledge of You, and let that knowledge
more fully form me.
On What Basis? (09/08/24-09/09/24)
As important as it is to know God, to truly know Him as He truly is,
that alone would be insufficient to save. Or, let me say it in a
different way. Knowing Him as He truly is, we know that the matter of
our righteousness is of critical importance. His mercy is great, it
is true, and His lovingkindness is eternal. Yet, there remains
justice and righteousness to consider. His justness is as perfect as
His love, His righteousness as perfect as His mercy. He cannot and
will not violate one for the other. And so, as concerns those He
loves, righteousness is a necessary requirement. He Who is perfectly
righteous cannot rightly love that which is unrighteous. This leaves
us in a bit of a state, doesn’t it? For if we assess ourselves
rightly, with eyes wide open, then we will find ourselves hard pressed
to assess ourselves righteous. But we know He is. We have tasted and
seen just how good God truly is, and this being the case, we feel our
loss keenly. Like Adam and Eve, suddenly aware of good and evil, and
that the evil is to be found in themselves, we can only expect
separation. If we would have hope, something must be done. But what?
Seeing the Law and that in this Law we have the very detailed
exposition of God’s requirements, it would naturally follow that our
concern for righteousness would lead us to make every effort to comply
with that Law. But even this, as it turns out, requires deep,
intimate knowledge of Him we would please, for the Law, in spite of
its exposition, remains a thing in need of interpretation and
application. We see it with Jesus’ exposition on just a few of its
points. We hear, “Thou shalt not murder,”
and we figure we’re in the clear on that one, having not killed
anybody. But there’s a whole moral mindset behind that. What is set
forth is but the pinnacle of wickedness in that regard, and God’s not
satisfied with addressing only the pinnacle. The whole issue must be
addressed. Likewise, the matter of adultery. Oh, you might not be so
brazen as to slip into your neighbor’s house while he’s away, and have
your way with his wife, or, from the other side, you may not be so
bold as to invite the nice young mailman in to satisfy your urges
while your husband’s at work. But again, that’s only the pinnacle of
a mountain of sinfulness, and God wants the whole mountain gone. It
starts with the thought life. It starts with the wandering eye. We
get the idea.
The Pharisees got the idea as well, at least in some degree. And
they thought to address it by broadening the requirements a bit. If
this is the line we would not cross, then let us establish a fence
back here, a few feet away from that line, lest we stray across it.
But they still hadn’t addressed the mountain. They’d just shaved a
bit more off the top, at least in principle. Whether anything
whatsoever had been achieved in reality is another story. If we take
Jesus’ assessment as accurate (and why wouldn’t we?) then their true
condition was one not of partial success, but rather one of
thoroughgoing hypocrisy. Oh, they could talk a good game about their
piety, but a look at the inner man would find him still entirely
untouched by righteousness.
In short, the Law, good though it is, was not working for man. Or,
more appropriately, man had not rightly perceived the full force of
the Law. Unwilling to face the impossibility of true compliance and
seek God for an answer, they had sought to find some way to claim
adherence, some way to account themselves right with God. They were
not, really, all that different from ourselves back when we inclined
to think ourselves good men, or at least good enough. All of this led
to what must have been a significant crisis of faith for Paul. We are
not really given a window into his dealing with the overturn of
everything he thought he was supposed to do to please God. It’s well
and good to see that he responded quickly at the start, receiving what
God was giving in spite of the shock. But I can readily imagine that
a fair part of those three years of personal training he underwent
were spent wrestling with this new knowledge, this new awareness. But
he won through, and that is coming across loud and clear in this
passage.
That’s what we’ve been looking at. He knew all about works
righteousness. He had practiced it with utmost alacrity, and like so
many, he was utterly convinced that he was doing just as he should,
was doing great, and really making God happy. And then the truth hit,
and as we saw in the previous part of this study, his assessment was
overturned. All those ways in which I thought I was keeping myself
from evil had me so blinded to God’s goodness that I was actively evil
in my own right. All I thought was to my great spiritual benefit was
in fact to my great spiritual detriment. For in my pursuit of merit I
had become blind to what really mattered. I was too concerned with do
this, don’t do that, and not sufficiently concerned about character,
about being truly godly. I had lost sight of Who God Is, and by my
actions and my thinking, I had come to present Him more as a tyrant
emperor god, than the loving Father that He is. I was so busy proving
myself found that I was near to being utterly lost.
So, another way was needed, and another way was provided in Christ
Jesus. Here was a means to true righteousness for man. Here, in
point of fact, was the only means, the only hope of pleasing God.
Having cast aside all of that loss-inducing practice, there remained
the need for righteousness, but if one was to have true righteousness,
it must needs be true. And the only true righteousness to be had in
this world must come from Him Who is truly righteous. Behold the
God-man! Behold hope! This is the core of Christianity, right here.
Thayer’s lexicon, in addressing this matter of righteousness, observes
the technical application that Paul is making of the word here, and
throughout his teaching. There is a specificity to his use of the
term which is indicative of that crisis he had weathered, and which
each one of us must weather in our turn. The Judaizers, and other
such legalists, posit salvation by merit. The crisis point is hit
when the realization sinks in that any such salvation is beyond us.
We are incapable of earning salvation. The only way we’re going to
obtain salvation is via the means God has supplied in Christ, which is
to say, that salvation which comes to us as a gift, a matter of God’s
grace alone.
This was the message of the Cross. It still is. Here is the way
made where no way could be found. Here was the answer to the
conundrum, not just for man, but for God. For man, the issue was how
to become perfect as God requires. After all, if we were conceived in
sin, sinners even before birth, and guilty of the sin of Adam from the
outset, how could we ever be perfect? We have no means of altering
the past, no way to cut off that legacy. And again, if we will stop
preening for a moment, and insistently pushing our idealized sense of
self as the real self, then we shall come face to face with the fact
that it’s not just Adam’s sin that has left its stain on us, but our
own. If his was the original crime, we’ve done plenty to add to the
record. And there is no eraser we can apply to that record. It’s in
indelible ink.
That left God in a bit of a quandary as well, were it possible to
posit any such condition for Him. He must arrive at a means to
establish a real, just assessment of righteousness for man, else there
could be no rescue of him. And, if I were to flip the picture, if He
were not to rescue man at all, then surely His goodness is tarnished.
I mean, after all, He knew beforehand that Adam would fail the test.
He knew it before He made him. The whole ugly history of mankind was
a priori knowledge to Him who set the work in motion. So, how is it
to be accounted good? If this imperfection has been so destructive of
the creature, how is He good who created it? But, just as Adam’s fall
was known a priori from before the beginning, so, too, was the
solution to this dilemma. The moment of Christ’s birth, the course of
His earthly life, and the manner of His death, right down to the
minute at which His life was given to pay for our sins, was all in
place before the first step of Creation. When God was Himself alone,
and the universe but a blank page, if in fact it had any existence at
all as yet, already this whole plan and purpose, from hovering over
the formless void in Genesis 1:1-2,
through the Incarnation of Christ, His death and resurrection, and
right on through to the consummation of His purposes in Revelation
21, was agreed upon amongst the Persons of the Trinity, in
their Unified Oneness. The whole was established in every detail,
every last moment, every least action of every individual being
throughout the entire stretch of time, before time itself was
stretched out. There would be a Fall. But there would be a Way.
There would be failure. But there would be a remnant. Always, there
has been a remnant. Always, there were those who were being saved,
and always, it was through the one means provided by God: The
righteousness of Christ.
So, perhaps we need to pause and ask, just what is this
righteousness? It’s a word we use often enough. And we sort of nod
and approve, but I don’t know as we ever really hear it explained.
It’s sort of an assumed knowledge in the church, like grace, like joy,
like so many Christian concepts. We just kind of expect that those
who come to church already get it, and so, we can just toss the word
out there, and everybody will understand. And those who don’t? They
look about at the nodding heads and assume they should understand, so
if they don’t, they may tend to nod along with the rest, lest they
look stupid. Maybe we’ll look it up when we get home. But we never
do.
Okay, so what is it, this righteousness? What does it mean to be
righteous? Well, we probably understand that it speaks to an
uprightness of character, to a state of moral goodness. But then we
are forced to ask how that moral goodness is to be defined. After
all, we have any number of opinions as to what is right and good out
there. And you hear it often in this post-modern age, my goodness may
not be the same as yours. Well then, we’ve got a problem, don’t we?
Yes. Yes we do. And the problem is that we don’t have a clue,
honestly. We’re just making up standards as we go along. If we leave
it at that, we’ve arrived at anarchy, at the state of Israel during
the period of the judges, where we read the assessment that, “every
man did what was right in his own eyes” (Jdg
17:6). This is our world today. Do what you want, for what
you want is right. That’s the moral standard. And it’s no standard
at all.
No, it’s all well and good to say that righteousness is a matter of
moral good, but we must have a firm definition of moral good, and we
can’t find such definition in unstable man. It must come of a higher
authority. And indeed, that sense is baked into the term.
Righteousness, if I take from Zhodiates’ definition, fulfills the
claims of a higher authority. Thus, legal innocence, which would be
sort of the poor man’s righteousness, consists in being in compliance
with the civil law, however it may apply to a given situation. To
take the obvious application, you can’t claim legal innocence as you
race down the highway well above the speed limit. You can’t claim to
have fulfilled the claims of that higher authority – not even if
everybody else is doing the same as you. Not even if the enforcers of
that civil authority do the self-same thing. That all of society has
cast off the rule of law does not render your own lawlessness any more
righteous. It only reveals the rot in society at large.
But while compliance with the claims of civil authority is in fact
expected of the Christian – expected by God Who institutes those civil
authorities for our benefit – that is not the end of it. We know a
higher authority. We know that God Himself is the true reference
point for moral goodness. He IS moral goodness –
in perfection. He IS the standard. And measured
against that standard, we’re back at, “Woe is me!”
For there is none found righteous, and even the most cursory glance at
our record yesterday, for that matter, our record thus far today, must
surely discover points of non-compliance. We are too corrupt to
comply. And yet the demand remains, yet the perfectly just claims of
perfectly righteous God, that we who are by rights His property, given
as He created us, must be as He is: perfectly righteous. Oh dear.
Here is the definition of righteousness that matters. God is
perfectly upright, as He must be. After all, there is no higher
authority than Himself, no other to whom He must submit. So, He
submits to Himself, and does so perfectly. One could argue that this
is exactly what was happening with Jesus in His time here on earth.
Indeed, I think Paul has already made that argument, hasn’t he?
Jesus, “humbled Himself by becoming obedient to
the point of death, even death on a cross” (Php
2:8). That’s the foundation for our righteousness – the only
foundation. He did it. And He did it as a man. It would gain us
nothing of God came down and remained Himself. If His obedience was
solely the product of His godhood, then it does nothing more than
prove that He is Who He is. But if this obedience was as a man, which
is implied in the forerunning notice that He emptied Himself in
becoming a man like unto ourselves (Php 2:7),
then He has really done something. Then, His sacrifice has worth.
Then, an answer has been given to the conundrum of our salvation.
Righteousness is, then, full submission to the right God has to
require our full compliance to His ways. And it is a state we can
only receive, not manufacture. It is a righteousness that comes of ‘grace appropriated,’ to take from Thayer. It
is a gift given us by the Father, revealed in Christ, appropriated as
the Spirit works within us to make us receptive to the gift. Here is
the only answer to our problem of sin. God has declared us righteous,
whom He has given to the Son. We would not, after all, be an
acceptable gift for the Son otherwise, for He, too, is God in full,
and as such, perfectly righteous, perfectly holy. A tarnished gift
would be no gift at all. So, here we stand. We have obtained that
for which we did not seek, gained right-standing with God in spite of
our abject failure to stand at all. We have become acceptable to God
in the only manner possible: by the blood of the God-man, shed on our
behalf, applied to us while we were yet His enemies, our hearts
rendered tender to His affections, our spirits reborn within us, and
our character slowly but surely being refashioned by the loving hand
of our Father, that we may indeed arrive at that perfection of
compliance which has already been set to our account. We have the
legal standing, and have had it from the moment of our salvation. We
are working on the real, material standing, as He works within us to
render us both willing and able in the power of His own divine
strength and goodness (Php 2:12-13, 2Pe 1:3-4).
Righteousness, then, does not come of obeying the Law, for the simple
reason that obedience to the Law in the perfection required is beyond
us to achieve. It must come from elsewhere. This simply won’t
suffice as a source of righteousness in us, or a cause for God to
render a judgment of righteous in regard to us. In an interesting
confluence of pursuits, both yesterday’s sermon and our men’s group
study last Tuesday converged on the account of the scribe who sought
to test Jesus, as covered in Luke 10:25-37.
That scribe, or lawyer as he is accounted there, asked Jesus what was
to be done to inherit eternal life. Now, his intent was not to
perceive wisdom, but to catch Jesus out on some fine point or other on
which to discount Him. But Jesus, as Pastor
Mathews observed yesterday, took a traditional rabbinical
approach and turned the question back for deeper consideration. What
do you find in the Law? How does it read, in your opinion? And this
scribe, well-versed in Law, gives a solid enough answer. Love God
with everything that is in you, and love your neighbor as yourself.
Jesus commends that answer, and then appends, “Do
this and you will live” (Lk 10:28).
This is the issue we find with that righteousness that seeks its
source in the Law and obedience to it. We know it. We just don’t do
it. In point of fact, lawyers that we tend to be when it comes to our
active pursuit of obedience, we, like the lawyer in this tale, are too
busy seeking the limits of required compliance. Like him, our
inclination is to ask, “How far do I have to take
this?” And Jesus, in His answer, effectively says, “As
far as you can.” See, if you were really in pursuit of
righteousness and not just self-satisfaction, your question would have
been, “How far can I go with this?”
Remember that ‘all’ in loving God? Give it
your all! Give it everything you’ve got, and more! Well, that same
degree of devotion goes into that second command to love your neighbor
as yourself. I mean, honestly, would you pull up short in loving
yourself? I suppose some might. But we would account that the result
of some mental disease in need of treatment. Why not the same when it
comes to loving your neighbor?
Paul, coming back to our epistle, sets before us the remedy to our
problem. We can’t achieve righteousness by the Law because we are
incapable of full obedience to its requirements. If this is our means
to life, then we are dead men walking. But there is One who, being
made man, actually managed what we never have and never will. He,
born of the Spirit, did not begin with the deficit we have as
inheritors of original sin. That line was cut off. And freed of that
initial burden – already sufficient to ensure true compliance was
impossible – He proceeded to live a life of full and complete
adherence to every dictate of God’s Law, and to every direction of His
purpose. The Pharisees could grumble all they liked at His propensity
to dismiss their traditions when they got in the way of true
righteousness. But their traditions were never binding on conscience
anyway, or ought not to have been. They were not the Law, however
highly the Pharisees valued them. And as He lived perfectly, so He
died perfectly, which is to say, whereas death is the penalty for sin,
His death could posit no just cause for that penalty. There was no
sin to punish, and as such, His death was not punishment, could not
be. Rather, His death was the sacrifice for sin, our penalty paid by
Him on our behalf. The demand of justice was met, and met for every
last one for whom God saw fit to have His sacrifice applied. Eternal
blood was more than sufficient to atone for the sins of every man or
woman ever to live, should that be the scope He chooses. But the sum
of it is this: Our righteousness does not arise out of compliance to
the Law, but through Christ, through His compliance, and His offering
of Himself on our behalf.
As such, while righteousness remains in accordance with Law, it has
not come out of our accord with the Law, but His.
It has come, we might say from the Law, but only through Christ,
and thus, from our perspective, through faith. Our faith, our trust
is in Him, not in us. Our legal standing in the sight of God is in
Him, not in us. And observe the continuance of this point. This
righteousness that is ours through faith in Christ comes from
God. This is our second encounter with ek in this verse. In the
NASB, the first is translated as derived from, and the second as comes
from, but it is the same little word, the same indication of source.
Our source is not God’s Law, but God Himself. He has provided the
means for compliance with His requirements, and He has done so in
Himself. For the Lord our God is One. Father, Son, and Spirit may,
and surely do indicate distinction of Persons within that one God, and
we may be at a loss to offer proper explanation of the mystery of the
Trinity. Yet it is there to be seen clearly in Scripture. It’s there
in this very passage, where we have faith in Christ,
leading to righteousness through Christ, having its
source from God. Make no mistake. Paul speaks of
two Persons here, not just in parallel reference to the one Jesus.
Add the Spirit, by whom we have come to possess this faith, by whom we
have been granted to see and recognize this Jesus in whom we have
believed, and the Trinity is in harmonious, unified action to bring
about our redemption, our righteousness.
Here is your legal standing. Here is the solution to that dilemma we
saw. Perfect compliance was needful for perfect Justice, and perfect
compliance was perfectly beyond us to supply. So, God supplied it,
and we now, by His doing, by faith alone, that none may boast, are in
possession of a legally accounted righteousness, and this
righteousness rests solely, exclusively, upon the finished work of our
Savior. It is His righteousness that is applied to our account. And
His righteousness is a done deal, an accomplished work. There is no
question of failing in Him, for He has completed the course perfectly.
Let me string together a couple of translations of verse 9 here.
“I am right with God, not because I followed the
law, but because I believed in Christ,” says the NCV. I am,
“no longer counting on being saved by being good
enough or by obeying God’s laws, but by trusting Christ to save me,”
as the TLB supplies it. Now, I might quibble, I suppose, with
shifting the focus from righteousness to salvation, but what, after
all, is our reason for pursuing righteousness, if not salvation? Why
would we trouble ourselves with that pursuit except we have sensed our
mortal danger, perceived the demands of justice, and found ourselves
wanting? Oh, the struggles we undergo in seeking to present ourselves
as upright. Oh, how we strive to feel good about ourselves. We will
compare and contrast ourselves with others – preferably with those we
find somehow inferior to our illustrious selves – so that we can feel
better. Pharisees all, as we proudly proclaim, “At
least I’m not like that guy.” Or, if we find one who is
clearly superior to ourselves, we begin examining closely, looking for
blemishes on his character, that we might take him down a peg and once
more put ourselves up there on the first-place pedestal. It’s a
losing game, but it’s the only one we’ve got. To continue in clear
recognition of our miserably poor character would leave us deranged,
suicidal. Honestly, what do you think is happening around you in the
world? Why the rising suicide rate? Why this inclination to go shoot
up a bunch of people you don’t even know? It’s the response of
despair. It’s the recognition of fallen self, however hard that one
has sought to bury recognition, left with no possible hope of
redemption. And this is what the world has on offer. They’re very
good at condemnation, but there’s no hope attached. You may be victim
of your circumstances, but your circumstances condemn you, and there’s
nothing by which you can be freed of that record. Sorry. It’s
permanent, and you’re doomed, and we shall now proceed to despise you
in hopes that maybe we can escape noticing that the same is true of
ourselves for just a bit longer.
It’s awful. Were you and I caught in that web, we would quite
probably find ourselves seeking the same sorts of solutions. If this
is life, why bother? But it isn’t. It’s a walking death. And there
is an answer. It’s Christ Jesus, Life Himself. It requires first off
recognizing that I am not a good guy, that however well or however
poorly I may compare to some other person, it’s never going to be good
enough, and no amount of effort or delusion on my part is going to
change that. It then requires recognition that God has Himself set
before me the answer. Here is My Son. Listen to Him. And, Lord
willing, He has sent the Holy Spirit ahead to begin that
transformational process in me, that I might indeed see, might indeed
listen, and might, having seen and heard, believe based on the
evidence. Faith is not, after all, a matter of blind acceptance. It
is acknowledging convincing evidence. It is thus a solid thing, not
the whim of emotion.
Now, I can’t promise you that having come to faith you will spend
every subsequent moment fully convinced of your place in God’s heart.
I can, however, promise you that if faith has in fact come, your place
in God’s heart is fully and firmly established, and has been since
before the first moments of Creation. I can promise you this because
He has already affirmed it. We need to recognize that depth of
confidence as we read Paul’s response here. Otherwise, we see those
maybes in the passage and suppose there is some real doubt to the
matter. Oh, we may feel our doubts, especially when conscience
convicts us on those occasions when we have slipped back into some
old, comfortable sin yet again. Look at me. Honestly, have I changed
at all? Well, yes, you have. For one, the old you wouldn’t have
bothered looking, wouldn’t have noticed anything sinful. It had no
definitions to work with, and if it did, it was so busy suppressing
those definitions that it had not time to notice.
But hear Paul’s heart-cry in this. If I may be so bold as to echo my
attempted paraphrase. “No! Let me be found in
Him. Let my righteousness not be a thing of my own poor effort, as
if I could ever account my obedience to the fulness of the Law
sufficient to count as true righteousness. Rather, let my
righteousness be that which is through faith in Christ, coming from
God Himself on the sole basis of faith.” That’s the crisis
weathered. That’s what had to be seen and addressed. Oh, how he had
strived to be righteous, more righteous than any other. Let me show
my zeal, God! I’d kill for You! I’ll not suffer these polluters of
doctrine to breathe another breath. Just look at all my merit
badges! And then, of a sudden, all of that was revealed for the
corrupted work of sinful flesh, and another path had to be found.
Praise God, another path was presented: Faith in Christ, coming from
the Father, on the basis of faith granted by Him and provisioned in
the Spirit. Yes, I am pulling from elsewhere for bits of that, but we
need the whole picture.
Listen to it from Paul’s letter to Corinth. “By
His doing you are in Christ Jesus, who became to
us wisdom from God, and righteousness, and
sanctification, and redemption”
(1Co 1:30). He did it! He does it all!
You couldn’t start on this course under your own power, for you
couldn’t even see the course was there to start. And you can’t make
progress on this course under your own power, for every effort you
make in your own power is tainted with your own corruption. Sorry.
That’s just how it is. Your works stink. Your best is rubbish.
It’s either by His doing or it isn’t getting done.
Now, don’t go making that an excuse to just kick back and let life
proceed as it will. That’s not the point. It’s not the way.
Sanctification requires God working in us, and praise be to His name,
He is working in us. But He works where His children will come
alongside Him and work together with Him. It is on this ground we
have that marvelous doublet in chapter 2. “Work
out your salvation with fear and trembling,” which is surely
a command to serious exertion in the pursuit of righteousness, but
enter into that effort knowing that, “it is God
who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good
pleasure” (Php 2:12-13). Knowing
it is Him working in you that renders the work both possible and
pleasing is not some excuse to make no effort yourself. It is the
assurance that your effort, guided by His hand, supplied by His power,
is in fact pleasing in spite of your imperfections.
I’ll put it another way. We don’t presume upon God’s grace. Far be
it from us! No, but we rest assured in God’s grace. He is our
blessed assurance. If we were left to struggle on in the flesh, we
should have no more hope than we had before Christ made Himself known
to us, which is to say, no hope whatsoever. But that’s how it is. We
weren’t left to finish under own steam that which was begun in the
Spirit. That’s Paul’s grand message to the Galatians, facing these
same Judaizers, and falling prey to their seeming validity. What?
You think your flesh can complete what the Spirit began? Get out!
That’s crazy talk. No, it’s Christ Jesus, first, last, and
throughout. But our God, our Father Who art in heaven, works in us,
calling us to come work alongside Him, to see what He is doing, how he
does, and to join Him in that work. It is ever that way, whether we
are talking personal progress in sanctification, or evangelism, or
teaching, or any other aspect of ministry. We work alongside God,
observing His direction, heeding His instruction, and following His
example, or we labor in vain. Those are the options.
But beloved, as I wrap up this section and proceed to the next, I do
want to put this thought out there. What we see here is that a life
of works leaves no place for rest. You can’t let up. You dare not.
One lax moment, and the whole effort could come to naught, and once
marred, well, there’s no recovery. But here in this place, resting in
Christ, no place is left for works, not of that nature. That’s not to
say we cease working, but we work from a place of rest. We don’t
exhaust ourselves needlessly or otherwise. After all, if we are
working alongside the Father, we are laboring in the strength and the
power that He supplies. Yes, we may bear a burden, but His burden is
light, His yoke easy. Hear it again. I know I need to. “Take
My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in
heart. Then you shall find rest for your souls, for My yoke is easy
and My burden light” (Mt 11:29-30).
Whereas the scribes and lawyers were busy creating all manner of
burdens that must be borne by those who would be accounted righteous,
Jesus does not. Where they pointed and insisted, you must do, you
must carry, you must dispose, Jesus comes saying, “Here,
let Me get that for you. Now follow Me.” Again, don’t
presume, but rest. Don’t work to earn, but joyfully come alongside
Him as He goes, as He works. Join Him in the pleasure of serving our
God, and doing so in the assurance of His love.
To What Effect? (09/10/24)
Now, if righteousness has a cause, a source, it also has an effect, a
goal. Paul states it in several clauses. The first aim of this
righteousness is, he says, to gain this same Christ in whom we have
our faith. After all, we can’t know Him except we gain Him. I will
reiterate from nearer the start of this study, that the gain we have
in view here is not a matter of acquisition, or of profit and loss
statements. Jesus is not some asset for us to add to our portfolio.
He is All! To gain Christ is very much to know Him. For none will
know Him but those the Father has given Him. But as we have seen,
this knowing is more than an awareness of the fact of His being. It’s
more, even, than having an accurate assay of His character. It’s
deeper than that. It’s experiential. And the experiential does not
come without closeness and sharing.
Paul therefore brings us to a more thorough exposition of what this
righteousness leads to. It leads to us being found in Him (verse
9). That’s closeness! And He, we must surely recognize,
is found in us. This was His great prayer for those who would be
His. “I in them, and Thou in Me, perfected in
unity, that the world may know…” (Jn
17:23). What does this set before us? It sets before us a koinonia above all others. Fellowship! But
this is fellowship with depths that exceed even that of husband and
wife. Husband and wife are set as a parable in living flesh, to
manifest something of this depth of fellowship, but it must remain a
lesser echo of this fuller union.
We have fellowship with God. Does the enormity of that register at
all? God, Who is seated high above all Creation, so wholly different
in nature from every created thing as to have no peer, no rival, comes
to have fellowship with us! Be clear on this. He doesn’t need it.
God is all-sufficient in and of Himself. He depends on none. He has
need of none. But He loves. He could love with
perfect fulness amongst the Persons of His being, both fully satisfied
in that love, and fully satisfying the full breadth and depth of
love. But He chose differently. He chose to love us, whom He had
created in His image. And He chose to love us in spite of the mess
we’ve made of that image.
So, we have fellowship with Him. He comes to be with us. He
cherishes us, the Scriptures say, as the apple of His eye. Great care
is taken to guard the eye, and that’s rather the point. He will move
swiftly to guard His children, because He loves them so. And that is
precisely what happened in this working out of our redemption, this
restoration of our righteousness. I speak of it as a restoration from
the perspective of the whole unfolding of redemptive history, from the
perspective of regaining what Adam had lost back at the start. But
for us, it’s not so much a restoration as a first encounter. This is
the force of rebirth. We are no longer stuck with the legacy of
Adam. We have a new legacy, belong to a new lineage, and that line
brings us back yet again to Christ Jesus, in whom our faith is set,
and through whom it has come. And we have fellowship with Him! We
can pause and chat with Him throughout the day. We hear from Him, if
our ears are open, throughout the day. It may be through the filter
of the Holy Spirit that these communications pass, but even so, it
remains direct.
But if we have fellowship with Him, we have a share in Who He Is. We
have shared experience of the same things. Think back upon your best
friend when you were young. You had shared adventures together,
things you two had done together, for good or for ill. There will be
those happy memories of the fun had along the way. There may be
somewhat darker memories of trials faced and overcome, of errors made,
things done that came to regret. There is probably a list of things
of which you’ve had to repent with the wisdom of age and the awareness
that comes of this new birth. There may have been crisis points in
that friendship, times when what one or the other had done threatened
to break the bond between you. And maybe, with rebirth, you found
just such a breaking of the bond had become necessary because while
you were on a new course, your friend simply will not see, will not
come along on this journey.
Well, here is assurance. Jesus isn’t giving up on this friendship.
To be sure, we’ve given Him ample cause to break it off. But He is
persistent. He cares too deeply for His own to let these offenses
drive Him away. Instead, He undertakes to minister to our hurts, to
address the issues that threaten to separate and so, to restore
communion.
But there’s more than this involved. There’s an active component on
our part. You see, to have fellowship with is to have a share in.
And to have a share in is to participate in. And with that, see where
Paul notes this fellowship. It’s not in the glorified state of being
enthroned in heaven. Oh, we have this assured hope of the power of
His resurrection being a power we shall feel exercised in our own
turn. But that’s not the fellowship Paul has in view. Rather, it is
‘the fellowship of His sufferings.’ What an
odd thing to mark as a desire, don’t you think? “May
I know the power of His resurrection.” Yes, we’re all in on
that one. After all, that’s Life! That’s death defeated. But then,
we hit, “and may I know the fellowship of His
sufferings.” Hang on, there. Not sure I signed up for that
part. Especially in our modern age, it seems that many a church is
disinclined to take note of this part. It’s all about your best life
now, right? We get the power to name and claim. If we just believe
really hard, God has to bless us. He’s not God to such a mindset.
He’s a genie to be manipulated and cajoled, tricked into leaving a
blessing. Sorry. If that’s your thinking, if that’s your pursuit of
God, then you don’t know Him yet. And if you don’t know Him yet, then
don’t be counting on your righteousness yet, either. Indeed, repent
and seek to know Him truly while yet there is time.
“I want to have the fellowship of His sufferings.”
It’s hard to work up enthusiasm for such a position. And yet, if
you’ve looked at all at the early history of the Church, you know that
such enthusiasm was often to be found there. Faced with the threat of
execution by means most agonizing, early believers counted it not a
horror to be avoided, but an honor to be pursued. We hear of Peter,
facing crucifixion in his own turn, and his only concern was that he
be perhaps hung upside down lest he be found too much like his Savior
in suffering. We read of Polycarp cheerfully going his way to
execution, of those who practically sought to be outed to the
authorities, in order that they, too, might truly share in the
sufferings of Christ.
And I still recall vividly the time the pastor asked who wanted to
suffer, and my dear brother Chris, who had played a part in my own
experience of salvation, stood up with unfeigned excitement, to say, “Me! I want to.” It struck me as somewhere
between amusing and astonishing at the time, and it still does. Me?
I want to be found ready, if it comes to that, but I can hardly say
I’m anxious to pursue such a course. Perhaps I’ve grown too
comfortable. But I trust God that, should such a time of suffering be
needful to my growth, or simply needful to His purpose, I shall be
found willing, having been made willing and able by the power of God
Himself.
This isn’t suffering sought out for some masochistic thrill. This is
looking back to that exposition of Christ’s obedience in chapter
2. “He humbled Himself, being obedient
even to the point of death on a cross” (Php
2:8). This is Paul, then, saying, “May I
likewise prove obedient.” And for one soon to face Nero for
judgment, that was no idle consideration. It was not a hypothetical
exercise in which one could posit his best, most idealized response
without fear of actually having to put it into practice. This was
looking clear-eyed at the immediate future. That’s something of a
tension running through this letter. Paul has confidence as to the
outcome, but still, he must accept the possibility that it may turn
out far different. “I am confident that I shall
come to you soon myself” (Php 2:24),
and yet, “to die is gain” (Php
1:21). The possibility is there. The possibility is ever
there. We don’t know. Any day could turn out to be our last, though
we live like the end will never come. We can take as much care as we
like, or be as carefree and crazy as we please, and it won’t move the
marker of our demise one bit. God has the schedule. We can seek
every sort of life-lengthening treatment, or we can be utterly
neglectful of our health, and the same holds. You may be perfectly
healthy, physically set for length of days, but if it’s your time, and
some terminal event comes along, physical health won’t alter the
outcome. Sorry. Bit dark, that. But it’s there. And it can either
crush you with nihilistic futility, or fuel you with brimming
confidence to face every trial. It rather depends if you’ve got God
in the picture or not.
So, yes, fellowship with His suffering; not because we’re keen to
suffer, but because we hope to be obedient to Him as He has been to
the Father. It’s the intent to obey, come what may, knowing that come
what may, God is working things for our good, who love Him and have
been called by Him (Ro 8:28). It is but
the expression of one who wishes to be “conformed
to His death.” That brings us to the other result of
righteousness. Again, this is not a death wish per se. This isn’t
Paul advising us to end it all. Far from it! How could we, who claim
adherence to the God of Life, Who commands us to act towards the
support and preservation of life, suppose the goal is to achieve an
early exit? Length of days is a blessing. It may be that the
practices of modern medicine have lengthened those days beyond the
point of blessing, but then, I must revert to my former point: God
numbers my days, not medical science.
No, this conformity isn’t a matter of seeking out physical death.
Rather, it is to do with our relationship to the temptations of
physical life on earth. Jesus, after all, did not stay dead. His
death was a very temporary affair, and His life continues as it always
has, from eternity unto eternity. That is not in any way to downplay
the true experience and suffering of the cross. But He is God, and
God does not change. God cannot cease, even for a moment, let alone
three days. It was a true suffering, but it was a suffering to the
purpose of establishing this path to righteousness for His brethren,
for all those whom God has given Him. Romans 6 will be helpful here.
“We have died to sin. How could we still live in
it?” (Ro 6:2). We have been
baptized into His death, buried with Him, so as to rise to newness of
life in Him (Ro 6:4). We are united with
Him in the likeness of His death. The homoiomati,
the image, the representation, an identity with. Here, it is summorphizomenos,
a granting or investing with the form, sharing the likeness of. It
may feel a bit stronger in this phrasing, but I think it comes to the
same thing. Conformity with His suffering consists both in facing the
enticements of sin – think Jesus in the wilderness, unfed some thirty
days, and facing the worst Satan could throw at Him, and submission to
holiness, as He did in full on the cross.
Understand this: You will never know the power of His resurrection,
except you know the fellowship of His sufferings, and conformity with
His death. And again, that conformity consists in submission to
holiness, submission to God’s plan and purpose, in full, come what
may, having counted the cost, as Paul is doing here, and finding no
price too high. Here, to shift the picture, is that pearl of greatest
price, and there is nothing in all of life worth more, nothing worth
holding onto if resurrection unto Life – Life in that purest, eternal
form finally worthy of being called life – is ours in exchange.
What a potent expression of desire this is! What a cry of joy,
though its terms are dark. “Oh! May I know Him –
the power of His resurrection, my share in His sufferings, totally
conformed to His death and thus attaining resurrection unto Life. I
know that all this is mine in Him, for He has obtained it on my
behalf.” So, then, the prayer of the righteous: I’m going
to take from Wuest for this. May we, may I, be, “brought
to the place where my life will radiate a likeness to His death.”
That’s not a desire to go through life dead. Far from it! Indeed,
one could argue it’s the exact opposite. It’s the desire to walk this
vale of death as one truly alive, for if we indeed radiate a likeness
to His death, must it not be a radiating of
resurrection already underway? Oh, our body is still decaying, no
doubt about that. I seem to be feeling it a bit more of late, though
I have no particular cause to think my days are nearing a close. But
what do I know? God knows. No, it’s more a superseding of earthly
desires and demands to take up a heavenward vision. Jesus lived a
very real life in the very real temptations and sufferings of this
world. He didn’t float over them like some spiritual hovercraft. He
was in it, just as we are – except without sin. But as Hebrews
reminds us forcefully, He faced everything we face, in
order that He could be a merciful and faithful high priest to us in
things pertaining to God (Heb 2:17). And
this, He is. Forever.
So, then, let us join Paul in this prayer. May we be found
sharing in His death, conformed to His submitted life, true
disciples of true God, not merely laying claim to His love, but
truly possessed of a deep-seated love for Him. May we come to a
real experience of being dead to our sins, unfeeling towards the
temptations of this world. May we walk free of the entanglements of
desire and possessions, in order to more fully give ourselves to Him
Who is worthy of all our devotion. It is, after all, our calling,
to love Him with all that we are. Lord, may it be so! Lord, make
it so! For it is beyond me, as it ever has been. Yet, it is in
Your gift to me. Only let me be willing to accept the gift.
Checkup (09/11/24-09/12/24)
Well. We’ve had quite a journey through these verses. But now we
have come to the hard part. It’s time to have a checkup. It would be
easy to stop, say that I have understood the passage well, and get on
to the next part. But there remains the challenging part of
recognizing my own condition, of looking honestly at my own
condition. It’s a message I hear often enough, and one to which I
happily nod my head in agreement. Yes! It’s true! We are wired for
works. It’s our default setting, to seek out the thing we can do,
must do, to earn our position. If we are to be accounted righteous,
surely, there must be something in our actions and our character to
which we can appeal.
And the Gospel comes with the news, as we see here in this passage,
that no, you can’t work your way to righteousness, not to real
righteousness. You can put a gloss on your deeds, but you can’t
attain to true standing. It’s rather like that oft-heard assessment
of small-town New England. How long have you lived here? Oh, twenty
years and more. Well, then, not long enough yet to be considered a
local, eh? It’s a similar equation, but without the humorous
overtones. How much have you been doing to be godly? Oh, I’ve been
studying, praying, attending church regularly, taking part in all the
various programs offered there. I teach my kids from the Bible. I
spend time together with my wife reading and discussing Scripture. I
disciple others after my fashion. I both contribute to and
participate in missions work. We can keep going if you like. And
still, the inevitable response. Oh, so still not righteous yet, then,
eh?
We know this is the case. We’ve got it spelled out plainly in
Scripture, as it is here. And it’s not just here. It’s all over the
place. All your righteous deeds are as filthy rags (Isa
64:6). We know we must love God with all our heart, soul,
mind, strength, but we also know that however much we have managed to
love Him, it’s not truly that much. We know we must love our neighbor
as ourselves, but truly? We’re just as glad they’re at some
distance. We tend to concur with Mr. Frost that good fences make good
neighbors. And yet, knowing this, we continue to act as if we don’t.
So, there are several questions I need to ask of myself, and I need
first and foremost to ask the Holy Spirit to grant that I may see the
answers clearly, and not shy away from them. I know myself too well.
I know, too, Scripture’s own diagnosis of this wickedly deceptive
heart of mine. I can happily convince myself that my knowing means I
have broken free of any propensity towards works-based righteousness,
towards proving myself to God and man. But there’s a dual danger
already, isn’t there? Let me suppose, for the sake of argument, that
I am right about not seeking to prove myself, and I must immediately
come up against the concern as to whether that’s truly an acceding to
faith righteousness, or just me not being bothered to care? Let me
suppose that I am wrong, that all those things I think are but
expressions of my love for God are in fact trying to drum up
recognition, whether from those around me or from God Himself, and I’m
in real danger.
I’m going to suggest that both are probably true at least in part,
and quite possibly more than I’d care to discover. I mean, I can
honestly tick off most of those things I listed out in my theoretical
interaction above. Obviously, I’m here most every morning having
these times of study. But what am I doing? Why am I doing it? Does
it have more impact than simply to fill my head with data regarding
religion? I know that I have developed a concern for Truth through
these years spent, but have I arrived at it? I know I have learned
much about my Savior from these times, but is it informing my being,
or just giving me talking points when I’m in discussion with other
brothers and sisters? Let me put it another way. Have I made this
exercise more about pride of knowing than about being shaped by my
Savior’s example? I fear it may be so in some degree. Certainly,
coming to men’s study on a Tuesday morning, I can sometimes feel a
certain lack of peer knowledge in the group. On the other hand, I can
also experience some truly keen insights from my brothers that have
escaped my notice for all that I’ve been examining the passages we
cover.
I would also have to acknowledge that for all the time spent in these
verses, talk to me in a week or so, and it’s likely that very little
of what I have considered here will remain. Ask me what I learned
from spending a decade or so in the Gospels, and while I know it was
valuable time spent, I don’t know as I could list off any specifics
for you.
So, have I made this study time an idol? Is it my bragging point?
Probably to some degree, yes. I become rather boastful of how long it
takes me to work through a passage. And that’s not a good thing. It
suggests I am holding this up as my evidence of holiness. No good.
It won’t suffice.
Prayer life? No. I am far from finding cause to boast in that. If
anything, I find it a deep concern that my prayer life is so minimal.
Oh, I’ll work up a prayer for Sunday, as I am called to offer the
congregational prayer this week. And I’ll spend some time on it,
seeking to reflect well a heart for God, and God’s heart for us. I
don’t – Oh! I pray it’s not so! – think it’s a sham or a
show. But I feel the responsibility and I want to exercise this small
office rightly, to God’s satisfaction. And while it makes me a bit
uncomfortable when somebody comes up to tell me how much they
appreciated that prayer, or asking for a copy (since I generally have
it written out at least in sketch), I can’t say it doesn’t feel nice
to have that recognition. And at the same time, it leaves me
questioning. Should I rather look at myself and say, “you
hypocrite!” This is nothing like the prayers I offer at
home, or even in these studies. Where is that care for prayer when
there’s to be no public display? And if it’s not there, is this
prayer I offered truly of value? Is it a true reflection of my heart
and thought? I will say it’s a reflection, at least. But it’s
probably polished up a bit.
What of this effort at missions that seems to have caught me rather
by surprise? Had you asked me two years ago, I would have told you
that’s not in my wheelhouse, not my calling. So what happened? Did
God call for it, or am I just responding to ideas deposited by
pastor? I don’t think it’s the latter. I’d like to think it’s the
former. I do know that when the slides went up last Sunday, showing
moments from last year’s trip, there was such a warmth of heart for
me. Yes! That was worthwhile. That’s far more worthwhile than
anything I’m doing for a living. That’s far more worthwhile than a
Saturday spent doing chores or playing music or what have you. But is
it for Christ, or is it for brownie points? Here, I think I can
answer positively, that indeed it is for Christ. Honestly, rather
like my time as an elder, it feels a calling for which I am
ill-equipped by my own abilities and capacities. It’s a calling I can
only pursue with any value by doing so in the power of my Lord.
What of worship ministry? I mean, it’s back to where it’s a rare
week that I’m not serving, but am I serving with a heart to praise my
God, or am I serving with a desire to play? I’m not sure I can assess
that well enough. My love of music has always been strong, and I need
only look about this room in which I spend most of every day to see
how strong. I sit between the monitors pretty much all day. The
keyboards are there, should an idea pop into my mind say, during my
shower or something. My Saturdays largely consist in getting chores
done (including practice and prep for worship service), while leaving
enough time and energy to pursue some music for my own pleasure.
Even, I should note, to the detriment of preparation for that trip to
Africa, which I really need to get to. Oh. But would that then
become a work as well? Does not Scripture tell me not to be anxious
as to what I shall say? Yes. But I don’t suppose that means I can
skip preparation entirely. It’s more a reminder not to suppose my
preparations are enough to render it effective.
So, the question in all of this is to what degree I am putting
confidence in my works as means to righteousness? Am I truly relying
on His righteousness as my sole means to righteousness? Truly? And I
think, for all that I have developed this habit and that, and for all
that I find it truly bothersome if I have to miss a morning spent in
these pursuits, or have to cut them short, it’s not because I think
that somehow puts me at risk of losing God’s blessings on the day. I
will confess that I can sometimes get into such a mindset when tempted
by some besetting sin. Oh, Jeff. You know if you succumb to this the
whole day’s going to be a mess because of it. Not that anybody
besides you and God would know, but you know how it works. Now, as a
bolster against sin, that might have some minimal value. Sadly, I
cannot say it’s sufficient to guarantee steering clear of succumbing.
But it’s magical thinking. It denies the God Who Is. I know His
lovingkindness. And I know His love for me is not dependent on me
keeping my nose clean, as the saying goes. He sees the finished work,
not the momentary lack of progress or the momentary lapse. And still,
I can find myself thinking that really is how it goes. Thinking that
goes against knowledge. Seems like that shouldn’t be possible, but I
know well enough that it is. Funny how I generally suppose that to be
the case for those in the other camp, those of other beliefs. But
yes. I am just as ready to enjoy a bit of cognitive dissonance
without noticing. And here, I think, may be the place where it is
most evident that I still want to put works where faith trusting needs
to be.
I want to move to my second question. What am I still holding onto
as being worth more to me than my Savior? Arguably, music must be put
in that list. Oh, I am pleased enough to put my horns and my fingers
in service to presenting worshipful sounds before my God, and to the
degree it is able to do so, to let those sounds serve to draw others
into a place of worship. On the other hand, I can also feel a depth
of longing for how things used to be with other worship teams. It’s
funny. I decry that (at least inwardly) when I hear others pining for
the glory days when there were choirs and arrangements, and degrees of
skill that now seem lacking. Oh. Come on. That’s not what has
value. That’s just table dressing. And yet, I so often reflect on
those Wednesday night services years ago, and the absolute,
free-flowing worship we enjoyed in those times. It was just special.
But it was for a season. This season is different, and while it may
chafe at times, it is training me up to set God first and foremost,
and style and skillfulness a distant, secondary concern. Yes, I want
to give my best. Well, truth be told, it depends. Some weeks, I just
want to be prepared enough not to make a mess of things entirely. But
yes, I want to offer my best, whatever my best may be on any given
week.
Yet, the care I would take in putting together my own music is
clearly much greater. And, as there is only time for one or the
other, guess which is likely to get the time? Is that right? Is it
wrong? Is it idolatry on the rise, or idolatry simply being tolerated
and coddled? There’s certainly the danger of that being the case.
It’s a place for prayer at the very least, but I think it’s okay
still.
What of work? I know my wife would say I give it more than I
should. And at the same time I know I would say I don’t give it as
much as I should. But there are clear lines drawn, at least on the
end of my day, though it has seemed to start earlier in recent weeks.
What can I say? This body wakes up, and it’s go time. So, I have
these morning times to pursue my studies and my thoughts. And it
seems anymore, it’s going to be 3-4 hours before I’m really at work,
in spite of having no commute. But that may only get me to 6:30-7 in
the morning. And I’ll go ahead and start in. After all, it’s much
more peaceful in those morning hours, before my coworkers start
showing up. But careful, Jeff! Don’t let it become your meaning.
Don’t suppose it all depends on you somehow. Don’t suppose it’s on
you to supply your provision. God is your provider. But yes, as I
work, I try – fitfully, but I try – to remain mindful that I work for
Him, that I work as His representative, if only by my diligence to the
task assigned me. Or am I just justifying myself? These
self-assessments are hard. Am I coming to set work before God? No.
I don’t believe so. I barely set it before meals.
And there’s another one. Have I come to a place of serving my
belly? Careful there! I mean, I do enjoy a good meal, and when it’s
time for lunch or supper, I will cut off other matters, particularly
work-related ones. Sorry. Well, part of that at least is their
propensity for scheduling meetings during my lunch hour so, yeah, you
want to talk to me after the meeting, that’s not going to work out
real well. I’ll get back to you. And 5 o’clock? Sorry, mate.
Kitchen’s calling. I want supper, and I have to cook it before I can
eat it, and honestly, given these early mornings, it gets harder to
eat it early enough to digest a bit before bed. But I’m rambling a
bit. And I’m going to save the next few questions for tomorrow.
Well, let’s try a hard one. Am I still willing to suffer the loss of
all things for Christ? You know, I find myself, rather like that
lawyer confronting Christ, wanting to discern limits on that ‘all
things.’ How much must I include in that, Lord? Are we just
talking financial loss? Been there, at least to some degree. And I
know You held me fast through that time. Now, You have set me in a
comfortable house, in a pleasant and greatly convenient place, and I
confess it would be hard to go back to what things were before. But
yes, if it were needful for some reason of Your purpose to do so, I
think I’m okay with that. Are we talking material comforts? I
suppose that’s sort of the same thing, but perhaps it’s simply a
question of scaling back, of being satisfied with basic necessities
and not hungering for finer things. Tough call. Yes, I think I can
still remember how to be satisfied with little, should the need
arise. On the other hand, I do appreciate being able to enjoy items
of better quality. And, in some cases (music again comes into the
foreground), I enjoy the ability to enjoy quantity and variety. If
that went away, would I stop following my Lord? By no means! Yet, I
would have to confess a greater attachment to these things than is
perhaps wise.
What if it goes beyond things, though? What if it starts to expand
into the realm of relationships? Am I willing to suffer the loss of
children, of family connection, or of my spouse? Don’t suppose those
are off the table. Jesus spoke rather directly to exactly that sort
of loss for those who are truly going to follow Him. And to be clear,
following Christ is rather more than liking Him on Facebook, or
reading His latest blog post. It’s a committed, giving my life over
to, heeding every command following. He leads, I go. He raises a
hand, I stop. My direction is for Him to indicate, and my inclination
is to His direction. That’s all well and good on the surface of the
thing. Yes, I want God directing my life. I’ve seen the result, and
it is good. No surprise there. God is good. But I also recognize
that oftentimes God’s good doesn’t look so good to me. My sense of
good is occluded by sin and self-interest. His is not. Think of the
obvious example in Joseph. Here was the favorite son of the
patriarch, clearly destined for great things, and well aware of it.
And behold! His own brothers almost kill him, and do in fact sell him
into slavery, hoping to be rid of him, so that maybe they can have his
future. And yet, he does not abandon faith. He decides to be the
best slave he can be, and he is quite good. His master comes to trust
him implicitly because he has proven himself trustworthy. But his
master’s wife has ideas, ideas he cannot entertain, and she, stung by
his rejection, accuses him of exactly what he refused to do. Off to
jail with no hope of parole. And still, he does not abandon faith.
He decides to be the best prisoner he can be, and he is quite good.
You know the story. Here is a man who truly suffered the loss of all
things. He lost his family. He lost his citizenship. He lost his
liberty. He lost, in some sense, even his reputation, though that
proved a thing harder to lose in reality than in appearance. And
through it all, he trusted God, that God would care for him, and that
God had some purpose in all this trouble.
Job would be another obvious example, who lost everything in a day,
his children, his goods, his health, the wisdom of a loving and godly
wife, and even the support of good friends. He was sorely tried as
perhaps no other we can name, apart from Jesus Himself. And what does
he testify? “I know my Redeemer lives. He will
take His stand. And even if my skin is destroyed, and my body shot,
still I will see God in my flesh. My eyes will see Him. My heart
faints within me at the prospect” (Job
19:25-27). I think I’m with him on that. I pray that,
should such trials come, I would respond like Joseph rather than like
Abraham. I know, however, how readily I can move into maneuvering,
seeking an out, and not necessarily the one God provides. There is
call for care here. And call for more than just a self-check, but
even for repentance where the stuff of this life has too great a hold.
I was drawn to that message Jesus delivers in Luke
14:33: “You can’t be My disciple if you
don’t give up all your possessions.” It’s a thing to draw
you up short, isn’t it? It’s got to cause a sharp intake of breath,
particularly if you thought yourself His disciple already. Does this
mean, Lord, that every disciple of Yours is assuredly going to lose
all earthly goods? Does this mean that we all must, as the monks of
old, take a vow of poverty, and determine to dispose of all we own? I
honestly don’t think so. It’s the readiness that matters. It’s the
business of holding lightly to that which He entrusts into our care
for a season. If I am hording wealth for little more reason than to
see the numbers grow, and feel more secure in my old age, well,
there’s a problem, isn’t there? First, who guarantees that wealth
will stick around to see my old age? It wouldn’t take much at all for
all that accumulation to disappear in a flash. And honestly, it
wouldn’t matter whether you account your wealth in bank statements and
stocks, in gold bullion squirreled away in a hole in the cellar, or in
survivalist food packs and ammo. None of that is going to supply a
guarantee. For all that, even if wealth persists, who’s to guarantee
that I’ll see my old age? That is beyond my control. And, to be
clear, it’s equally beyond the control of any supposed cabal of
elitist manipulators looking to control the world. There is One Who
has say as to the length of my days, and He has already spoken. As He
has spoken, so it shall be. Do I know what He said? No. But I know
I am in His hands. I know that one day, my physical life and my
physical possessions shall be parted from one another, one way or the
other. If I live past my supply, then God will provide. If my supply
outlasts me, then may it bless those who remain. And if Christ
returns before either event transpires? Well! There’s an end to all
such concerns.
Still, though, that saying of Jesus is indeed a hard saying. I pray,
then, that I am still willing. That’s not to say I wouldn’t feel
regret at the loss. That’s not to say that I don’t have strong
preferences for letting those things remain in my possession. But not
if they are holding me back from following my Lord; not if they keep
me from pursuing the course He intends for me. I think I am okay
here. And if I am not, may God be so kind as to both point out where
I am fooling myself, and also to stir in me a real repentance from
anything that is holding me from Him.
Last set of questions, and these are ones I need to be asking myself
throughout each day – especially, I think, when I find my patience
grown short, and frustrations mounting. What am I reflecting upon?
Where am I focused? Now, I cannot possibly escape the notice that
when I am engaged at work, it gets pretty much my full focus – to the
degree that focus remains possible. And I no doubt expend more energy
than I should reflecting upon various knotty problems faced in that
arena of life. There are, after all, deadlines to meet, dependencies
others have on me doing my assigned tasks, and also – perhaps more
frustrating to me – dependencies that my tasks have on others doing
theirs. And then, there are the demands of wife and family that press
in, and want their slice of my focus. And honestly, though perhaps it
was ever so, it feels as though the pace and tendency of the modern
world lead to a shattering of focus. No matter what it is you seek to
concentrate on, something else will interrupt, and then, another thing
will interrupt that interruption, and on and on until you feel like
you’re swimming against a whirlpool and losing badly.
That sense of drowning in obligations will tend to get my focus. And
having done so, it will tend to produce a bit of despondency, a sense
of futility and being so overwhelmed that well, I don’t wish to deal
with any of it. So, perhaps, I’ll go reflect on whatever news or
amusements the web has on offer at the moment. Perhaps I’ll go focus
on funny cat videos, or some game or other. Or perhaps I’ll take it
as cause to just up and get out of the house, take the wife, and hit
the shore, maybe have a bit of dinner together, do something, anything
really, to get free of these obligations for an hour or three. And
then I have to ask, do I take that same propensity for distraction
into my pursuit of this life of godliness? When I am in these times
of study, my focus seems well enough. I have to say, though, that
sometimes the reading of Table Talk that precedes feels like an
exercise undergone on autopilot. This morning, for example, I could
briefly lose sight of which book those devotionals are actually
considering. But I do sense that a few points held on, at least long
enough to be in mind as I pursue these more considered efforts. And
what of reading Luke for men’s study when this is
done? Is it a rush job, or am I going to really pay attention?
Expand. Where are my thoughts when in church of a Sunday? When
serving in worship, am I truly geared towards expressing my love for
God, and on serving by His power to draw my brothers and sisters just
that bit closer to His throne room? Or when I pray, is it from the
heart? I think I’ve already looked at that here. What about the
sermon? Am I seeking to hear from the heart of God as I sit there, or
am I sitting more like a film critic, sifting out what I find valuable
and what I find wanting? Or, for all that, am I just watching the
clock and waiting for it to get over, so I can get on to the next
thing? I know that many is the Sunday that, rather like these last
weeks, I’ve simply been waking up too early, and sitting still for the
forty-five minutes or so of the average sermon without falling asleep
can prove a challenge. Shoot. Of late, it’s hard for me to sit on
the couch and remain awake through my own prayers in the evening,
especially if we’ve dimmed the lights. Sorry. Body just gives out
after sixteen hours or so. But even when I feel engaged with the
sermon, for how long does its content get retained? Ask me Tuesday
what the point was on Sunday, and can I retrieve it? Doubtful. Is
that healthy? Doubtful. Do I have any idea how to solve that?
Doubtful.
The one thing I know is this: Unless the Lord builds the house, he
labors in vain who builds at all (Ps 127:1).
This includes the house of memory, the house of perception and
wisdom. That’s not an excuse for just letting things slide. It’s not
a sufficient argument for saying yeah, it’s okay, Jeff. So you don’t
retain and focus as well as you’d like. It’s okay. Nobody else does,
either. Well, when was that ever an excuse that worked? No. It’s
not an excuse, it’s a smoke alarm, or maybe a CO2 alarm, given the
aspect of spiritual torpor. Here is the place that needs work. Here
is the place that needs the Spirit to come to my aid. Here is the
place for prayer.
Lord, it’s taken me rather a long time to arrive at the issue,
hasn’t it? And yet, it’s so obvious once it comes into view. I
would lay it down as a two-fold problem. The first is that my
prayer life is simply not sufficient to keep me strong in faith.
Yet, when I consider that, my thoughts rise up with instant
objections. Where will I find the time? I can barely manage what I
do now. But You, Lord, are the creator of time, and if this is Your
desire, You will supply the time. It remains for me to seek it, to
seek You, and to spend that precious time restoring myself in You.
And as to focus? As to what I’m reflecting on? Help me, Holy
Lord! I am too readily distracted, let alone too easily. Keep me
conscious of my habits, and grant me the desire and the wisdom to
break free of those that are counter-productive. I know, for
example, that come the end of this time of study and reflection,
there will come another cup of coffee and some time spent wandering
various favored haunts on the web. Let that stay in check, though.
I know I can tend to allow that to expand and fill any extra time in
the morning. Perhaps, with these early wake-ups of late, there is
the time You are providing? Perhaps I should avail myself of what
You are supplying? And as to focus, especially during times of
worship and study and preaching, grant that I might truly adhere to
what’s going on, to what You are doing. And grant, I pray, that I
might hold more of it in mind as I go about these other facets of my
life. Grant me a hunger, my God, for all that You provide, all that
You seek to impart. Grant me to have that desire for You that will
indeed fire a willingness to give up all in order to gain You.
Where that desire has cooled, fan the flame. Where I am wanting, my
God, fill me with You. Reshape me, that I may reflect You.
Refurbish me, that I may be Yours in full.