New Thoughts: (01/29/26-02/02/26)
Finite Knowledge (01/29/26-01/30/26)
First off, something of a programming note. I have been finding that
when I set up the outline for this study, particularly it seems in
these first verses, I set the divisions incorrectly. Thus, this
section titled “The Apostolic Commission”
had in fact excluded the verse in which that commission was
delivered. Well, that clearly can’t stand. So, corrections were
made, and a second trip through these exercises of mine for verse
8 was needed. I suppose I might have chosen that verse as
key, had I looked at the whole in one sitting, but I am inclined to
leave verse 7 as my key verse because really, for
the church in every age, that seems to be the point that needs to be
pushed. We become too full of ourselves, too sure of our full grasp
on the plans of God, and so, we miss what’s actually happening.
That being the case, I want to focus first on that verse and its
message. It is actually two messages in one, and I’ll save the second
part of it for the next piece of the study. Here, we must start with
a matter that needs to be clear in our understanding. “It
is not for you to know.” There is something in us,
particularly when it comes to considerations of the end of the age,
that feels sure we ought to know not just the schedule of events, but
date certain. You can see it in the Apostles’ questions here. Is
this the time, Lord? Never mind that they were a bit off in their
expectations as to what was going to happen at this significant time
they had in mind. They wanted the schedule. Enough of these shocks
and surprises. Fill us in, boss. What’s the plan? When do we get to
action?
And to this, Jesus replies firmly. To borrow from the Phillips
translation, “You cannot know
times and dates.” As ever, it is good to consider what sort
of knowing Jesus is talking about here. There are those nuances of
Greek that simply don’t translate to English because we have but the
one word to encompass several in Greek. Here, we are dealing with ginosko, so not the input of the senses, but
rather the absolute knowledge that would generally come of
experience. But I don’t think it’s the experience that is in view
here. It has more to do with understanding and awareness. Zhodiates
adds the idea of being conscious of whatever it is that would be
known. There are also potential connotations of intimacy in that
knowledge, thus, I suppose, that sense of absolute knowing.
So get the message here. Take it to heart. “It
is not yours to know.” You’re not going to establish the
chronology. You’re not going to discern the strategic moment. For
one, God’s not going to tell you the schedule, and like it or not,
that’s His prerogative. Finite minds have limits. And, as I have
often observed, fallen minds, even with the renewal that is ours in
the Holy Spirit, would take knowledge of a date certain and make of it
an excuse for procrastination. If the end comes next Wednesday, then
I can do as I please until Tuesday night, and then repent. Yeah. It
doesn’t work that way.
I know many who will look at the declaration regarding the sons of
Issachar and insist that no, God will surely tell at least the elites
among His children when He is about to act. These were “men
who understood the times, with knowledge of what Israel should do”
(1Chr 12:32). I have to observe that
nothing is said there of interpreting signs, only of understanding.
And over against this, we have Jesus’ clear declaration, both here and
elsewhere. We find an occasion when the Pharisees were questioning
Jesus. In this case, they were asking when the kingdom of God would
be coming, to which Jesus responds, “The kingdom
of God is not coming with signs to be observed” (Lk
17:20-21). Now, we can question the motives behind that
question, given that their questions were generally asked in hopes of
catching Jesus out, or finding something by which they could bring Him
to grief. But this is not the only such statement He makes on the
matter.
Come to the rather lengthy discussion He had with His own out on the
Mount of Olives. The end of His time with them was coming close, and
still they had their questions. “When will these
things happen? What will be the sign of Your coming, and of the end
of the age?” (Mt 24:3). The same
questions still being asked today. And, while He gives a lengthy
answer to them, particulars as regarded the relatively near future
that the Church took to heart and thereby escaped the fall of
Jerusalem, yet there remains this fundamental point. “Of
that day and hour no one knows. Angels in heaven don’t know. The
Son doesn’t know. Only the Father” (Mt
24:36). The signs, as we review them, particularly those
which He classifies as “merely the beginning of
birth pangs” (Mt 24:8), are such
as one can find in the news almost daily, and thus it has been so far
as memory can recall.
Nation rising against nation? How is this news? Nations have been
battling one another forever. Famines and earthquakes? For some
regions, these were as common as spring. For some, they still are.
Earthquakes in Turkey? Go read the history of Laodicea. Or go read
last year’s news. Earthquakes around the Pacific? Yeah, we get it.
They happen. Famines? Again, on a global scale, they are something
of a constant. The variety is only in location and duration. As
signs of the end, they are pretty pointless, because they’re always
there, and the end is always yet to come. There is a simple point to
be taken from that discourse. The signs, when they come, aren’t going
to require interpretation. You won’t need somebody to explain when
the Son appears. And you will not get advance notice. Honestly, if
somebody tells you they’ve got it figured out, whether it be by
calculations on the Scriptures, by dreams and visions, or whatever it
may be, the message is, dismiss them. “Do not
believe them” (Mt 24:26). And
don’t waste your energy trying to discern the schedule. It’s not
going to be told you. Just be ready. Always. Just walk humbly with
the Lord your God. Always. Trust Him. Always.
Understand that questions are not wrong. It is acceptable and right
to express ourselves honestly to God, and that includes those times
when we just don’t understand. Think of the examples of first
Zacharias, father of John the Baptist, and then of Mary, mother of
Jesus. Both were met by an angel. This is already pushing things
beyond what could reasonably be expected or explained. How came this
being to be here in this place? For Zacharias it was the holy place,
for Mary, we presume her bedroom or at the very least her house. This
was not a place where strangers should be expected to be, let alone
strangers of an angelic nature. And now, this angel says, hey, I have
a message for you from God. Yes, I am paraphrasing in the extreme,
but that’s the crux of it. God sent me to tell you something.
Listen! God had sent no prophet for what? 500 years or so? And now
you’re coming to me? Who am I? Now Zacharias could at least look to
his office as priest, but Mary? A mere child, barely of age to be
betrothed. And the news comes. You’re going to have a child. For
Zacharias, this was as improbable as it had been for Abram and Sarah,
and for similar reason. He and his wife were old, past the age of
child-bearing, really. And he asks, “How could
this be possible?” But he doesn’t seek wisdom. He’s
expressing doubt. Mary, on the other hand, faces the impossibility of
being pregnant without having been with a man. She, too, asks, “How is this possible?” But in her case, it is
seeking understanding. With childlike faith, she has already accepted
that this will be. But what’s going to be involved? How will it come
about? What will be required of her?
Let’s focus on Mary’s case for just a moment. Gabriel could have
been given no permission to explain. He could have been left to
answer her questions much like Jesus answered the questions of the
disciples. “It is not for you to know. Only God
the Father knows.” Had that been the case, Mary would have
been left to accept this, to simply trust that it would be so. There
is, you see, a distinct difference between demanding further evidence,
and seeking further explanation. But, even when it is the latter that
we are doing, if God says no explanation is going to be given, to
continue prying becomes an act of unbelief. To insist, with all that
Scripture says in regard to the end of all days, that God must
tell us when, even if couched in a sort of passive
aggressive demand insisting that He would never, is to place oneself
in charge and makes God out to be more a genie than the Supreme
Being. It wants us in charge, and God answering our beck and call.
And that just isn’t going to happen. That is the path of rebellion,
the same path with which Satan tempted Eve at the outset. It is the
same sin that has plagued man ever since.
What is our place, then? We can ask. We ought to ask. James makes
that clear enough, doesn’t he? “If any of you
lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all men generously
without reproach. It will be given to him” (Jas
1:5-6). Now, there is that caveat of asking without
doubting, but that’s different than demanding. I may have no doubt
but that God will indeed provide the wisdom I seek, but I cannot
demand that it come in the form of the answers I want to hear.
Sometimes, wisdom is going to say, “Best you don’t
know.” Or, to bring it back to our passage, “It
is not for you to know.” The seeking of wisdom must, you
see, be accompanied by humility. Yes, you are going to your Father, a
Father who loves you and lovingly supplies you with true wisdom. But
if He, in His loving fatherhood, determines that you are better left
with incomplete understanding, humility requires acceptance of that
fact. We abide by His requirement to walk humbly with Him in love and
justice as best we can perceive and apply it (Mic
6:8). Humility insists that we recognize that God knows all,
and God knows best. He knows what He is doing, and that includes His
decision to keep certain matters to Himself.
And so, if our questions seek to pry into matters not for our eyes,
He must keep His own counsel, and He will give us to know that this
subject is not up for discussion. “It is not for
you to know.” I don’t know, perhaps the Phillips translation
is onto something with, “You cannot know.”
Suffice to say the negation in Jesus’ reply is strong. Ouch
umon. Okay, I can’t write that without being amused by the
nearness of that to “ouch, man.” But ouch is an absolute not. Not for you. This
knowledge is not for you. This detail is not for you. We’re not
talking leap of faith territory, being as I have been reading
Schaeffer again. It’s not dismissing reason and choosing to believe
in spite of the evidence. No. It’s recognizing God for Who He Is.
He is sovereign. He is perfectly aware and perfectly wise and
perfectly loving and perfectly just. If this is His decision, it is
good, for He is good. I, a bondservant of my Lord, must accept that
the foot soldier is not going to be privy to the full counsel of the
general. Yet, we have history. We know Him. He is trustworthy, and
His ways are right. Always. With Mary, then, let us answer, “Let
it be to me as You have said.”
This same mindset, I believe, is with the Apostles in this
encounter. Like Mary, like Zacharias, they are facing a reality that
defies belief. Jesus, Whom they saw dead as dead could be, His blood
drained from His side after His death to satisfy the doubts of the
guard, has been coming for visits. No shade, this. No ghost. He’s
dismissed that possibility. They’ve taken meals together. They’ve
been in physical contact. He’s real alright. Yet, that’s not really
possible, is it? Sure, they understood the theology of resurrection,
but that’s for some future age, right? It doesn’t really touch on
real life here. It’s one of those things where believing is one
thing, but experiencing is quite another. However much one believes,
seeing it come to pass remains unbelievable. Our minds have simply
shelved that event as something true, but in some other time and
place. It just doesn’t happen here. But it did. These are things
that set the mind reeling. It’s not unbelief so much as the
impossibility of belief. This can’t be happening and yet it’s
happening, and the mind, to avoid sinking into blubbering insanity,
will seek to devise an explanation for the inexplicable.
And remember, their understanding remains as yet imperfect. It
remains, as well, heavily influenced by life to this point, but the
national expectations of their culture and their religion. We
understand there’s to be a Messiah, a restoration of David’s kingdom.
But earthly beings will tend to translate that as applying to earthly
dominions. So, sure, Jesus! You’re back. Hope is restored, so it
must be time the kingdom is restored, too, right? When do we start?
Understand that we are just as prepared to misinterpret events as
were they. We are just as likely to develop expectations wholly at
odds with God’s intentions, and to begin interpreting His words to us
on the basis not of His words, but of our expectations. We may be
familiar with the theological distinction between exegesis and
eisegesis. The right course is to take Scripture at its word,
recognize that God is presenting an intelligible explanation,
reasoning with us by means we should be able to reason out, and seek
to understand what He is saying. That’s exegesis, finding His meaning
out of His word to us. The wrong course is to reach a conclusion and
then go searching for passages to support that conclusion. That’s
pursuing the course that these apostles were on prior to the Spirit’s
infilling. They heard His words well enough, but they were filtered
through their expectations. We are inclined toward such behavior.
Even as we seek to be careful to pursue the path of exegesis, we may
very well slide over into eisegesis, and begin reading our current
understanding into that which ought to instead be correcting our
understanding. That is the course that leads to us demanding God must
act as we perceive the path. After all, we’ve studied, right? We’ve
learned. We’ve read this promise or that, inferred this or that, and
convinced ourselves of certainty that, as it turns out, rests more on
inference than truth.
We must remain open not only to God’s silence on certain matters, but
to His very necessary correction when our supposed knowledge has
drifted off course. We must be prepared for wonders beyond our
experience, for knowledge beyond our learning. That does not require
us to take every teaching as valid. That doesn’t require that every
claim of the supernatural be accepted without question. You know, for
all that folks appeal to Issachar’s awareness of the times, it is the
Bereans that get praised. Why? Because they searched the
Scriptures. They received the word eagerly, hopefully, but they also
examined, and their examinations were not occluded by preconceptions.
They were hoping to find this good news true, not trying to unearth
reasons for disbelief (Ac 17:11).
We have received this same unbelievably good news. We have been
tasked with imparting the same to those around us who haven’t heard
and may not particularly wish to do so. Hey, we were in the same
place once ourselves. But God. I come back to the theme here. “But God was with them.” Yes, and God was with
me, else I would still be out there laughing at the very idea. And I
know He is with me, in spite of may myriad failings. I know, too,
that He is with my beloved wife, in spite of her rather curious
pursuits in regard to faith. And I must confess, these differences of
course are perplexing, frustrating, incomprehensible to me. And yet,
I know God, and I know He knows what He is doing. It doesn’t
necessarily make things easier, but it leaves things settled. If He
chooses to harmonize, then things shall harmonize. If He chooses to
have us remain so very different and yet one somehow, so be it.
Lord, grant me the wisdom, the humility, the compassion, the
gentleness, and by all means, the patience to bear this with grace.
Show me how to minister Your goodness and Your truth into this. I
have seen my response when faced with disagreement, and it’s not
pretty. If I have indeed perceived Your truth to the degree I
convince myself I have, then let it change me as it should. Let
this frustration and self-centeredness be done away and let me truly
serve You as a faithful son. Help me to hear with understanding, to
receive the intended communication, rather than becoming
frustrated. Help me to hear.
Fixed Purpose (01/31/26)
That God does not fill us in on every last detail of His plans ought
not to unsettle us, though it often does. We have become accustomed
to knowing what’s going on and when it will be happening. We expect
our weather forecasts to be down to the minute as to when the storm
shall come, and we get upset if the forecast proves wrong. Somewhere
along the way, we lost sight of the fact that a forecast is, by its
very nature, a best guess. It is an educated guess, perhaps, and
based on better data than used to be available, but it’s still a
guess. Yet, we try and treat it as a certainty.
We have our work schedules, and those are again little better than
guesswork. Yet we put all our energy into making the schedule a
reality, at least assuming our employers are able to maintain some
proximity to the possible as they schedule. We schedule our days. We
have our checklist of things to get done, and we go about doing them.
It makes life predictable, and we like it that way. But God will not
be scheduled by us, nor is He going to make things predictable. Face
it. A predictable life will not produce in us the humble dependence
on God that is our greatest need and our greatest strength.
So, don’t be discomfited by God keeping things to Himself. Rather,
look to the reasons for confidence that are contained in this same
verse. He has fixed a schedule. He does
know precisely when and where and whom. And observe as well,
that this is on no contingent basis, but by His own authority. There
are no dependencies in His schedule, no unknowns that might lead to a
need for revision in His planning. No, God has fixed His schedule,
and it shall not be changed; not by you, not by me, not by friend or
enemy, demon or angel. And certainly not by God. And frankly, there
at the end is the only point needed. God is not going to change it,
and if He will not, nobody else can. But it’s His schedule, and He is
not obliged to inform anybody else as to its details. So relax. Rest
in the assurance He has given you that all is settled. And resting
solely upon His authority, it is more certain than anything you could
consider certain. His determined plan is more certain than the sun in
the sky, more certain than the earth underfoot, more certain, even
than the eventual reality of physical death. Jesus stands here in
this scene as proof of that.
Jesus speaks of it in terms of times or epochs, chronos
or kairos. The two terms have
distinction of meaning. It could be that He’s just repeating with
variation to emphasize His point, but they are distinct concepts. Chronos considers the progression of moments,
periods of duration; schedule, if you will. Kairos
gets at the purposes, the strategic points of time. Jesus
coming to live among men transpired at a strategic time, and that
strategic moment had been set on the schedule from before the
beginning. It was always going to happen at precisely the point at
which it did happen. The time was right. I appreciate the point
Zhodiates makes in regard to these kairos,
epochal moments. It’s not kairos because
it’s convenient. It’s kairos because
there is necessary action to be taken in the purpose of God.
That takes us to another aspect of His authority. We should observe
that God’s fixing of these epochal times, and of durations and
schedule, are a matter of establishing them for His own purpose. It’s
a middle voice action, and while that can speak of reciprocal actions
involving multiple actors, in this case, God acts alone. And He acts
for His own interests. He acts according to His own purpose, to
establish His purpose and see it accomplished. The times are
established, to borrow Wuest’s choice of phrasing, ‘within
the sphere of His own private authority,’ and they are
established to accomplish His own private purpose. Now, I would
maintain that this private purpose lies within the sphere of the
covenanted purpose of the Trinity. Father, Son, and Spirit
established this unfolding purpose of Creation before ever the work
began. And yet, even within that covenanted agreement, it is apparent
that the Father, though One with Son and Spirit, retains certain
particulars to His own Person alone. Even within the Unity of the
Godhead, then, there is a place for perfect submission.
But let’s come back to this matter of the middle voice. God has
fixed these events in time and space, though they remain future so far
as concerns us in our linear experience of time. And He has done so
for His own purpose. To hammer on the point a bit. This is His
story. For all the personalities and particulars that come
into play in the record of Scripture, and the record of the Church
more generally, this fundamental remains at base. It is His
story. It is to our eternal benefit, but that’s really
almost beside the point.
As I was working through my preparations on this passage, Table
Talk gave reference to Ezekiel
36:22 and what follows there. I found it apt to our point
here. Through Ezekiel, God speaks to a people in exile. What has He
to say? “It is not for your sake that I am about
to act, but for My holy name.” There is notice that they are
in exile for cause. “You profaned my name among
the nations where you went.” But this is His story,
not theirs, not ours. “I will vindicate the
holiness of My great name, and the nations will know that I am in
fact the LORD, when I prove Myself holy among you in their sight.”
He proceeds to list the actions He is about to undertake, actions that
will surely prove to be of great benefit to His people, but not for
their sake. No, it is for His. It is to clear His name, if you
will. And look where it goes! We know this one from Joel,
as Peter will bring that passage to bear in his first sermon. But
here it is again. “Moreover, I will give you a
new heart and put a new spirit within you. I will remove your heart
of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put My
Spirit within you and cause you to walk
in My statutes. You will be careful to observe
My ordinances” (Eze 36:23-27). It
goes on, but notice the fundamental concern here is not with Israel’s
comfort and prosperity, but with God’s holiness.
We understand the Church to be the true Israel of God, spiritual
Israel. This is not to say the Church is expected to take up the
rituals and ceremonies of the ancient temple. No, but we are to
worship in Spirit and in truth. We are to be regulated by the
revealed word of God and informed by His Spirit, which He has
put within us. But make no mistake. Worship isn’t about
us. It’s about Him, for Him. It’s about making Him known, and
growing in our committed service to Him.
As Ezekiel make plain to the exiles, God chose them for one reason:
To make His singular, absolutely unique claim to deity evident to
all. This was the case, quite clearly, when He first hauled them out
of Egypt. We could go back farther, and say that it was quite clear
when He first called Abram out of Babylon to become a unique people.
Do you wonder that Babylon is ever the seat of temptation to turn back
from the path of faith? It is the former life, with all its
predictability and comfort, left behind for the uncertainty entailed
in walking with unsearchable God. Egypt plays a similar role in the
symbolism of Scripture, an enticement back to the worldly ways that
once enslaved us. Why? Because terrible as those times were in
reality, they had the comfort of familiarity. And faced with
uncertainty and the unknown, it is in our nature to reach for the
familiar, even if what was familiar was in every way inferior and
painful.
Okay. So, spiritual Israel. For the Church, the message is much the
same as for Israel, and I might suggest that this becomes more the
case as time advances. The Church, taken as a whole, has often and in
many ways profaned the name of God rather than upheld His holiness.
Look at the state of things, as church after church puts out its
banner declaring that sin will no longer be accounted sinful among
them. It has become a proclaimer of the original lie, “Did
God really say?” That is not to suggest that the Church has
failed, any more than the destruction of the temple meant that Israel
had failed. For either to fail would be for God to fail, and God does
not fail. But it demonstrates once more that the real purpose of
Creation is not about the Church any more than it was about Israel.
No, in both cases, there is strategic purpose. There is strategic
purpose in the founding. There is strategic purpose in the
preservation. And yes, there is strategic purpose even in the
failings.
We do well to remember that last. There is no promise of permanence
to the present order. Indeed, there is absolute assurance that the
present order will, in due course, pass from history entirely. What
we witness here at the transition from the Gospels to Acts is
history reaching its central, critical point. We could speak of it as
an inflection point. Everything prior was building to this one
moment. Many a sermon has been spoken laying out portions of just how
carefully planned and orchestrated that whole unfolding of events had
been. You cannot review the historical evidence laid out in the Old
Testament and come away saying it’s all just a series of amazing
coincidences. No. Things did not just happen. Things happened
because God in heaven purposed that they should happen. At this time,
to this person with this outcome. There’s nothing of chance involved,
nothing coincidental. The wildest conspiracy theorist could not dream
up a plan of this scope. And yet, these things happened. In real
time and real space to real people, these things happened.
Inexorably, from the first man in Eden to the Man on the Cross,
everything was to plan. God’s word went forth and accomplished all
His purpose. You know the verse. “So shall My
word be which goes forth from My mouth. It shall not return to Me
empty, without accomplishing what I desire and succeeding in the
matter for which I sent it” (Isa 55:11).
Now, observe Jesus amidst His Apostles, here at the critical
inflection point of history. “So shall My Word be
which I sent forth. He shall not return to Me without accomplishing
My desire, and succeeding in that for which He was sent.”
And now, so too the Church which He established, built upon the
foundation of Prophet and Apostle. She, too, for all her myriad
failings, will succeed in that for which she was established. History
moves on, and just as history proceeded from the beginning to this
critical juncture, so history shall inevitably arrive at its
conclusion. A day is set. You don’t know its date, nor do I. But
that it is set is certain, and that it shall come to pass is certain.
And in that day, each and every man or woman ever to have come into
existence shall give account of him or herself to the One Whom God
appointed as Judge and King over all the earth.
Praise be to God that this is a fixed certainty. Praise be to
God that for us whom He has called, that date certain is a date for
certain vindication, and welcome into the city of our true
citizenship. Oh, God, were it not for Your own righteousness, who
could stand on that day? What hope could there be, had it not been
for the perfection of Christ, poured out in a life of suffering
obedience, the perfect Atonement for our sins? But, You have done
it! And You have done it to demonstrate for one and all that You
are indeed Holy, Just, and Merciful, not by turns, but in perfect,
harmonious unity. Glory be to Your name, O, God! May I, in spite
of my myriad failings come to the place where I give cause for
others around me to give You the glory that is Your due. May I, in
spite of my myriad failings, myself give You the glory that is Your
due. And may I be found a faithful servant in Your household, ever
seeking to do as You desire. The spirit is willing, Father.
Strengthen the flesh.
Parallels and Recapitulation (02/01/26)
I have already touched somewhat upon the topic of this part of my
study, which is the matter of the parallels between the story of
Israel and the story of the Church. At present, I know there is at
least one figure making a bit of a name for himself by really zeroing
in on this matter, and seeking to do so with something of an old
testament prophetic aspect to his presentations. I have no doubt that
those parallels are real enough. I am not, however, particularly
interested in the doom-laden pronouncements. Perhaps I should be, but
I’m not. To my thinking, that approach misses the real, central theme
of existence. It is a theme I have already noted multiple times just
in the last day or two, but this must be understood. Whether we
address historical events in the development of Israel, or current
events in the Church of the West, the fact remains it’s not Israel’s
story or the Church’s story that we are addressing. It’s God’s
story. God is unfolding the events that He has purposed from the
outset, from before the outset. And He is moving events inexorably to
their right and proper conclusion. And behold, He has told you,
child, what that conclusion is to be.
Has He given you date certain? No, He has not. Has He given you
detailed, clear indicators by which to know where we are in that
schedule? Not really, no. He has spoken of signs, after a fashion,
but such as are effectively the common record of life on earth.
Earthquakes, famines, and wars, while they may grab the headlines and
get our attention, are in fact fairly regular occurrences, laid along
the span of history. And as we have seen, He says rather explicitly
that this finale is not coming with signs to be observed. When He
comes, there will be no need for signs. Until He does, there will be
a perpetual need for preparedness. I become more and more inclined to
align with the view that there is no need to look for signs of the end
times because we have been living in them since first they nailed Jesu
to the cross, certainly since He ascended to His heavenly throne,
Prophet, Priest, and King to His people.
Still, there are parallels. It would be hard to miss them, really.
Those parallels are perhaps most clearly seen in observing the record
we have of the life of Jesus Himself. We see Him born in obscurity,
living as a stranger in a foreign land. How could it be otherwise for
one born out of heaven? We see Him sojourn in Egypt for a time, as
did Israel, though without the enslavement. We see Him in the
wilderness for forty days facing temptation, as Israel faced forty
years in the wilderness of Sin, and fell, almost to the man, in the
face of temptations. We see Him entering the promised land, crossing
the Jordan as it were, in His ascension. And we see Him dispersing
His presence throughout the world as the Church is effectively
expelled, pressed out of Jerusalem to the farthest extents of the
known world, much as one would find Israel dispersed throughout the
world in that period. And, like Israel, the Church has faced
derision, opposition, even violence from a world that prefers its
darkness. Also like Israel, the Church has an assignment from her God
to make Him known to all the nations. Israel failed at that task,
turned inward and became jealous guards of their privileged position
in Him. Has the Church followed suit? There can certainly be
occasion for it, and perhaps seasons. But I think in the general case
we can say that no, she has not. She remains outwardly focused,
missionally focused, if not perfectly so.
Absolutely, we can see myriad instances of specific churches failing
to maintain their fidelity to our Lord. I would have to say that even
of those churches Paul planted, letters to which remain a critical
component of God’s revelation of Himself to man, are already a record
of such failures. The church in Corinth reads like a roller-coaster.
She has her spiritual highs, but dives straight into idolatrous lows,
again demonstrating something of a recapitulation of Israel’s case.
How far had they progressed, after all, before putting all their
energy and wealth into creating an idol to bow down to? But Corinth
recovers, it seems. The sharp corner is taken, and the climb
resumed. Yet, look about today, and seek to find a trace of her.
Even the city, near as I can tell, is absent, never mind her church.
So, too, the majority of those churches we know of in what is now
Turkey. Ephesus was a big deal, both to society and to the history of
the Church, but what if it now?
Yet, Philippi stands. Thessalonica stands, and the churches there
would appear to remain vibrant and alive. And even were this not the
case, history has demonstrated God’s brilliance and His capacity to
move the locus of the faith community around the globe. As it wanes
in one place, it flourishes in another. For years, it has seemed that
America stood as the place of flourishing, a central force in the work
of missions. Britain, too, had her season; so much so that she
thought herself the new Jerusalem. But pride goes before the fall,
and it would certainly be difficult to view Britain as still holding
anything of faith beyond the bare word. Her church hardly sees fit to
acknowledge Jesus at all, let alone as He truly is. And in many
cases, the church in the US seems keen to follow suit. Yet there are
those who stand fast. They stand, as Scripture says, because God is
able to make them stand.
And here, we are back at my central point once more. The Church, for
all her myriad failures, remains His Church. Her story remains His
story, and His story is still unfolding in history. And His story is
assured of reaching its final page. We have read it, and beloved, the
Church wins through. It may be a remnant of its former self, but it
wins through. It may not be every group to have called itself a
church, indeed I would say it most certainly will not. To many of
those places called church have made their status too clear, and made
it quite evident that whatever they mean by that term, or by the term
Christian, it no longer bears any relationship to Christ, the Head of
the Church which He established. Again touching on things from
reading Francis Schaeffer lately, they use the words for their
connotations, but they have emptied them of meaning. It’s
manipulative, deceptive, perhaps even succeeding in deceiving those at
the helm to the degree that they believe their own lies. But it’s no
longer the Church.
Similarly, we observe that there is still a nation which goes by the
name of Israel, and to be sure, much of its population is in fact
genetically Jewish, still holding to a lineage that links all the way
back to Abraham. But it’s not the genetics that matter. It’s the
spiritual issue of faith. And Israel, as she stands today, has little
enough of faith. Oh, there are several groups who continue to hold to
ancient traditions. But those traditions were long since shown
powerless to face the issue of sin. That is, in reality, the whole
story of Israel. She had God present with her. She had the Law. She
had the covenants. She had her own signature on the line. “All
these things, we shall do.” Unlike Abraham, she failed to
see the impossibility of that self-assurance. In reality, pretty much
none of these things would she do, nor could she; not any more than we
can. It needed something more, something outside of Israel, something
outside of man, indeed, something outside of Creation.
And God provided. It’s His story. And in His story, it is clear
that Jerusalem continues to play a central role. Whether it is the
physical city that does so or not, however, is not as clear. Is it
possible? Certainly. But honestly, God is not tied to a particular
geography, and it seems to me that to place too much emphasis on the
physical city of Jerusalem is to once again enter into a
recapitulation of Israel’s history, and not one that bears repeating.
Jerusalem wasn’t, after all, the first center of worship in Israel.
There was one which preceded her, at least, perhaps more. But people
began to mistake the place for God. If He is here, nothing bad can
happen. And God had to make clear that no, that wasn’t the case.
They did it again with Jerusalem, even as God walked amongst them in
the person of Jesus. Even with the unbearable presence of these Roman
interlopers, still, they were absolutely convinced that Jerusalem
could suffer no harm because God had chosen her. They thought that at
the time of the exile, as well, I should imagine. But the stories of
that siege which Rome brought against Jerusalem are harrowing in the
extreme. The depravities to which God’s people had sunk, even in the
temple which they thought secured their immunity, are horrible to
contemplate.
Are we in fact entering into the recapitulation of Israel’s record in
that regard, assuring ourselves of the country’s unbreakable position
because it is too significant to God’s work to fall? Are we so
assured that however depraved our practices, still God must uphold
this nation as the last great hope of the Church? Honestly, if the
Church depends on that hope, the Church is nothing. But it doesn’t.
It doesn’t depend on this nation. It depends on God. And should He
choose to close out the era of American power, what of it? It’s not
something I would care to live through, any more than I would have
cared to live through the downfall of Jerusalem, or the exile, or the
persecutions of the Church in the Roman Empire. If I need not face
such a period, then praise God. But if I must? Then praise God.
It’s His story, His creation, and He is assuredly within His rights to
do as He pleases. And what He pleases to do is to His glory,
demonstrates His eternal, essential character. That being the case,
however events fall out, I can rest in the assurance that it is good
and to the good of all who love Him. That is His promise, and He does
not fail of His promises.
I have said that Jerusalem remains central to the story, but I do see
it as taking up a more spiritual role, just as the Church takes up the
role of spiritual Israel, no longer a matter of physical linkage, but
rather a matter of faith and understanding. True Israel consists of
all who have placed their faith in God who called them, regardless of
time or place. Gentile or Jew, Greek or barbarian, king or serf, male
or female, it makes no difference. What makes the difference is the
call of God, the sending forth of the Holy Spirit with power to
believe, and power to live out that belief, to be witness to the very
real continued activity and presence of God in the world He created.
True Jerusalem, we see, is the kingdom of heaven. It will, in due
course, come down to earth in full. If we try and take the dimensions
of that city literally, we discover a city of most improbable size,
but it would have to be, wouldn’t it? For it is to contain all who
have believed in any age, all who are to live forever in the immediate
presence of the God Who Is.
So, yes, Jerusalem remains our reference, point, but not the ancient
city in the hills east of the Mediterranean. No, it is the heavenly
city come down, the city foursquare, whose eternal king is our Lord
and Savior Himself. Indeed, we are told He is the light of that city,
the Sun which never sets, reigning over a city whose gates never
close. It is an eternal seventh day. Thus, the call to enter into
His rest, an entering which is already ours, for He
tells us that we have already entered into that rest. Yet, it clearly
remains to know that rest in full, and when that shall be? Again, it
is not for us to know until that time comes to pass.
Our Commission (02/02/26)
Finally, we come to the commission given to the Apostles, and through
them to the Church. “You shall be My witnesses.”
Of course, the Apostles could witness in a fashion impossible to us.
They had walked with Jesus, talked with Him, been with Him during the
events of His ministry. We might claim to walk and talk with Him,
though even that must be in a much different sense of the words. But
one thing we cannot claim is to have been there. Yet, this does not
leave us without a personal witness to personal experience. We may
not have been there to see the baptism of Christ or His crucifixion.
But we have seen what He has done in our own lives, in our own
experience. These may not be as spectacular, as widely known. They
may not be of such a nature as could be tested or confirmed by others,
at least not in the specifics.
I think, for instance, of that occasion driving back to the Cape from
work, only to discover the highway beneath my wheels was a three-lane
sheet of black ice upon which I was moving at speed. And cars and
trucks ahead of me are suddenly spinning, drifting across my immediate
course, forcing a lane shift which should, by all rights, have had me
joining the growing number of vehicles out of control. Yet, I weaved
through in control and unharmed. At the time, I wrote it off to my
skill and my car, but honestly? Reviewed from a distance and with
greater awareness of God’s reality, no. This was not my doing.
Someone greater acted on my behalf. Or, I could go back farther, to
that night with the temptation to join the party injecting cocaine.
But the one offering and urging this experience could find no vein in
which to inject. Now, listen. I have had blood drawn many a time
since, for legitimate reasons, let me stress, and never has there been
an issue. Somebody intervened.
Are these historical events that can be verified? Not really. There
might be former friends from that period of my youth, but the one
particularly involved, I would be surprised to find still alive, to be
honest. And as for highway experiences, I would say it’s as good as
impossible to verify. But I am quite certain of what happened, and
quite clear that it was not my brilliance that caused things to go as
they did. I could look to my conversion, for all that. Internal
voices making a more or less mathematical proposition while eating
with friends in a Chinese restaurant; to be sure, there are those who
could confirm I was there, and would gladly confirm that something
significant happened to me over the next few days. But the
particulars? Private matter, really. But no less real for all that.
I can attest to these things. I can give witness to the activity of
almighty God in my life. I must, I fear, make plain that I am quite
imperfect in spite of His activity, and often act more like my former
self than like I ought. Reading James 2
this morning in my time with Table
Talk, I have to confess that discussion of faith without
works gives cause for concern. But it is only such concern as ought
to pertain. It does not lead me to doubt my conversion, merely points
out that there are many areas upon which God is still at work. And I
must further recognize that while it is God who is at work in me, this
does not give me a free pass to just do as I please until He gets on
with it. No. I have moral responsibility for my actions. That He
works them for good does not excuse my own intentions any more than it
did for Balaam. Here’s the difference, though. He called. He sent
forth the promised Holy Spirit into this poor man, and made me His
own.
With that, again referring to this commissioning before us, I must
confess that I have received power, God’s own power, to be exercised
in pursuit of God’s purposes. It remains His, though I have received
of it. But having received of it, what excuse remains for continuing
in sin? This is and should be a serious concern. It is not, again,
sufficient to convince me that my faith was but a figment of my own
imagination. These events I’ve mentioned were quite real, the
outcomes quite real, and the change quite clearly observable. This
was not some emotional response to manipulative preaching. Preaching,
in all fairness, was not involved at all, even in that conversion
event. God was. This does nothing to dilute the imperative of
preaching. It does nothing to reduce the truth that the Gospel is
itself the power of God to save. Neither does it suggest that the
church could readily divest herself of preachers and be fine. No.
Jesus established the Church, and did so with a structure. Not a
building, mind you, though I don’t suppose He is opposed to such, but
a structure, an organization, a chain of command with Him at the head,
and all else depending from Him. But that’s a topic for another time
and place.
We are looking at the commissioning, the establishing of the Church
as Jesus chose to establish it. It is not a matter of fixed
location. It begins in Jerusalem, but it is not to remain there.
Still, you have to start somewhere. Start where you are. But spread
out as growth and increased resources make this possible. Look at
that commission. Start local. Spread regional. Then, go global.
Understand that for these first Apostles, this was a shocking
proposal. Jerusalem and Judea were one thing. But Samaria? The
Gentile world? That was going to take some convincing. Even if the
Apostles were prepared for such an eventuality, those who were going
to become part of the Church would not have their experiences to
prepare them for such shocking ideas. Israel had too long known
Judaism as for the Jews – only for the Jews. That tension forms a
great deal of the record before us in Acts.
As to the Apostles, there’s something worth noting. I see the setup
back in Luke 17:11. “While
He was on the way to Jerusalem, He was passing between Samaria and
Galilee.” This was not the first time, but it is rather
telling, I think. The Apostles were with Him. They saw that He moved
freely, without regard for nationalities or races. Yes, in their
first forays, He had sent them to the Jews alone, but this was not the
permanent order. He had taken them through Samaria – through it! No
right-minded Jew went through Samaria. One went around. He Himself
ministered to Gentiles, setting the example. Now, I think that latter
may have been more readily acceptable for these men. They, after all,
were primarily from Galilee, a land within which Jew and Gentile were
in closer proximity. Consider that it is referred to as “Galilee
of the Gentiles.” (Isa 9:1 –
There will be no more gloom for her who was in anguish. In earlier
times He treated Zebulun and Naphtali with contempt, but later He
shall make it glorious, by the way of the sea, on the other side of
the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles.) Matthew
4:15 makes reference to this as the author brings us to the
preaching of Jesus. The Light had come, and things would never be
the same.
The commission, then, is to bring that Light to the world, to expose
the darkness, but not as a matter of condemnation. No, it is a rescue
mission. Yes, it is a matter of reclaiming the kingdom of Christ. I
say reclaiming because this world was always His to rule. He made it,
after all, and every creature in it. But the usurper came and claimed
the throne for himself, and the peoples bowed down to his rule,
forgetting their true King. And the true King returned, passing
between Samaria and Galilee as He made His way to Jerusalem.
You know, in my preparations, I had come cross that prophecy
regarding Judah, as to how he would reign until Shiloh comes. And
that leads to considerations of Shiloh, the place, which in turn leads
to remembering that the place is not the point. Shiloh was the early
location of the ark, the place to which the Israelites would resort to
seek the Lord. But they came to think the place was the significant
thing, rather than God. They grew presumptuous, thinking the place
ensured their security. And Shiloh was more or less destroyed.
Shechem followed a similar pattern. And then, Jerusalem, the city of
peace from whence the Prince of Peace. And again, the people of God
mistook the city, and in particular, the presence of the temple in the
city, as an unbreachably secure fortress. Rather than rejoicing in
the preserving power of God, they made it an excuse for every sort of
abomination. And then, when their King came to them, as He Himself
prophesied; as, indeed, had been foreknown from before the beginning,
ordained by God Himself, they took their own King to the chief of the
occupying power of Rome and had Him not merely killed, but crucified –
the most demeaning, humiliating possible death they could conceive
of. And they laughed to see it.
Then, the skies darkened and the dead walked the streets. I rather
doubt they continued laughing.
It’s worth recognizing that, from Peter’s first message, God’s plan
and purpose in all of this was made clear. But it was also made
abundantly clear that this did nothing to remove the guilt of those by
whose hands the Savior of mankind had been put to death. Indeed, He
had proclaimed their judgment before ever they arrested Him. He did
so not in anger, but in depths of sorrow. “O
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, who kills the prophets and stones those who
are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children
together the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you
were unwilling. Behold! Your house is being left to you desolate!
From now on you shall not see Me until you say, ‘Blessed is He who
comes in the name of the Lord!’” (Mt
23:37-39). If there were any doubts as to the significance
of this, look to 70 AD. The city was surrounded by Rome, the people
starved out, and eventually, the temple thrown down until barely a
stone remained standing atop another. Yes, the ruins remain, and
observe that still, to this day, the Jews look to the remaining wall
as if that were the guarantee of God’s presence. What shall become of
that people and that place? As with the rest of the world, some will
be saved. A remnant remains, whether in Israel proper or in the world
at large. God knows His own and calls them by name. They hear Him
and follow Him. Beyond that? The old order was put to a rather
definite end. The temple is no more. The Sanhedrin are no more. The
sacrificial system has been done away, lo, these many years. I can
find no reasonable cause to expect a restoration, let alone to look
forward to it. God condemned, and who shall rebuild? That door was
slammed shut. Behold! Shiloh has come, the Prince of Peace. And He
has made all things new. The old has passed away. That system which
had calcified as it was codified, becoming heartless adherence to
appearances of a righteousness that did not in fact pertain, was cast
down by its Originator. New wine has come, as this week’s sermon
reviewed. That required a new system, a new heart, a new
receptiveness to the things of God, made possible only in the power of
the Holy Spirit, working God’s will in the heart and soul, rendering
this rebel flesh able to comply, able to serve as a temple for
perfectly holy God.
And you shall be My witnesses. That commission has not changed,
though the nature of our witness has changed as it must. The Gospel
has not changed. The Truth has not changed. It cannot, for God does
not change. The mission continues. It continues in individual
households. It continues in the local church. It continues in
efforts to reach outward into the local community. It continues in
prayers and more in regard to such governance as God decrees for our
age. It continues in worldwide effort to speak God’s truth, to make
His gospel clearly known, and to raise up others to carry on the
mission until such time as God sees all fulfilled, His time come in
full, and establishes in full His kingdom upon the earth. In the
meantime, we have all we need. We have all we need to know in that
commission: You shall receive power, and you shall be My witnesses.
It’s not a free-for-all. It’s not power given over for you to use
however you please. No. It’s delegated authority, given for a
purpose, and solely for purpose. Exceed your authority, and you
should surely expect that any power delegated to you shall be
rescinded. Ours is not to command, and far be it from us to rebel.
Ours is to trust and obey, and may God have all the glory. After all,
every good and perfect result comes from Him, for it is He who works
in and through us to achieve His glad purpose.