He Is Our Blessing
We are blessed to know Jesus. He is Lord of lords and King of kings. He is also the prize of our souls, the treasure of our beings, the pearl worth it all. Jesus is the treasure of our beings because he is so worthy.
One day, I went to ask Jesus: what is the reason for my life—please refresh me in the truth today? And, he replied that he is the reason for my life—his worthiness is the blessing of my days and the reason my life has meaning.
That we can know the King is marvelous and wonderful. What else can I say? Knowing Jesus is greatest pleasure—perfect and holy.
He is the blessing of our lives and souls. Jesus is remarkable to know. He is trustworthy with our emotions. He is tender with them, leading us on paths of hope and righteousness. He is worthy of our time; we will not regret one moment spent with Jesus. He is worthy of our investment of money—no amount too much to be poured out for him. He is worthy of our worship—plain and simple. He wants to be the subject of our obsession, as we lay ourselves at his feet.
Knowing Jesus is greatest gain. He reveals to us the Father, and we are filled with his Spirit to know him more and more. When Jesus is invited into our inner lives through prayer and the work of studying the Word, we are filled with endless joy. Jesus is the joy of our lives; we were made to know him. He is a pleasure to know, always filling us with good things. By contrast the thief steals and destroys. But Jesus gives abundant life.
I think of eternity in how we will need no more sun because the Lord Jesus himself will be our light. What wonder! To think of this reality fills my soul with praise. Jesus will take up the center of the new earth and heavens with a visibly glorious reality. We will need no more sun. We will behold his luminance, as he is the light of our very days. He will shine like all of the treasure of existence. He will be our greatest blessing.
And now, think of that reality as applicable to this day as a symbol. Think of Jesus shining to be your truest blessing in all of life. He loves to be sought over and over and over in our lives and days. We can return to him always to seek life and purpose, to seek hope and peace. And, he always gives. Days can drag; times can become weary. We can feel like the light has gone out from our eyes. But with Jesus, minute by minute, we have the strength to traverse these days of life. He is our true blessing.
In him, we behold the perfect Person who always treats us well—far better than we deserve. He delights to give us life and purpose and hope and peace. He delights to be the reason why we live our days. And too, his holiness is remarkable. He keeps himself separate from the evils of this world; we can always look to him as high and holy—the God who is forever set apart and gloriously good. We can trust his ways and his decisions for us because we know that he is perfect and our minds cannot comprehend him.
So, in the unknowns we can have a point of worship. We set down our own faulty reasoning and trust that there is a God who is true and real and good and pure and holy—and we can worship him as such. That is deep and rich blessing. We are stunned by his greatness, this one who invites us to be his friend.
Jesus Christ is our blessing because he is near and because he is transcendent. He is beyond what our imaginations could conjure. He is beyond what our senses can discern. He is beyond what we can think or hope. And still, he draws near to us as we draw near to him. He is our perfect friend and our holy brother, taking humanity upon himself and making himself obedient to death for our sakes.
We have a perfect friend who died for us. We have a perfect friend who lives, and is our holiness and righteousness, such that we need not fear a holy God. He welcomes us with his grace and mercy—a tool for each hand to draw us near to his holy throne room. He has made us renewed and refreshed and, most of all, made new through his work on our behalf. He is, surely, our greatest blessing. He has told us forever who he is—the great and glorious, the one lowly and humble. He condescends to spend eternity with us. He condescends to call us his friends. And, that is what we are: those who find our happiness in Jesus.
He Is Our Life
Jesus is life. He is the eternal Word from whom our life comes. And, he powerfully holds the world together with the workings of his being. He is our eternal resting place, he is our security, and he is our life. There is a certain amount of awe we can have on this earth as it relates to Jesus being our life. That is, we can take a moment to reflect, to really think about what it means that God sustains life.
Jesus is our means of being. He is our mode of operation. He is the reason we breathe, the life that we have, and our point of survival. Jesus is more than water, more than air, more than food, more than covering and protection—he supports the very life force that drives through each one of us. Jesus is the hope of our souls because he is the life of our souls.
He alone can disposition each soul for eternity. He is also Judge, giving to us our eternal life by determining that his sacrifice is sufficient for our eternal life. We will never meet a Judge more merciful that our Lord Jesus whose every pronouncement for the saved will be: life! life! life!
There is no more perfect hope than the hope of Jesus because there is no more perfect source of life. He is where we go to drink from the eternal fountain. He is the one who allows us to drink fully and without cost. There is hope through the gospel because Jesus is the good news. He is the source of living and the source of sacrifice. He is the source of our help and hope because of who he is as the Life.
When we come to Jesus to drink of his life, we are tired, weary, and worn. We are ready to be done with the paths of the world that feed self to the end of feeding self. We want to live for a purpose beyond ourselves—for a worthy reason. Jesus is our reason. He is life because he is the source of living. And, he is also our life because he is the purpose for living.
When our lives slow for a period of time, and we truly contemplate the meaning of life, we can only determine that there must be a reason for all that we experience. Jesus is that reason. His honor and glory are the reason we go through times of stretching and molding. We are being made to better reflect him. When we endure life for his sake, we are pleasing him and honoring his will for our lives. And truly, for all eternity we will exist for the praise of his glory.
Everything that we receive from him in our lives eternal—those eternal blessings at his right hand—we receive so that we can bless his heart. He loves to give, and he is blessed when we receive. We honor him when we receive the fullness of his life. In eternity, we will receive from his fount always. And so, on this earth, we can receive from his fount—help for the day and hope for all of our tomorrows.
Jesus is the light of our paths while we are on this earth—and that is how he provides us meaningful times while on this planet. He knows what is best for us and uses his word to be a light unto our paths. The unfolding of the word of Jesus gives light—and that light provides the course for our lives. The Word of God will never steer us away from the life that is in Jesus, but always bring us nearer to our source and purpose.
When we see Jesus in glory, we will see the fount and reason for the lives that we have lived on earth—we will see the reason for our hope and steps forward here on earth. And, when we are in those times when we feel stuck on this earth—when getting out of bed in the morning is more challenging that we would like to admit—let us turn our eyes to our life. If he has given us another day, then there is more for us to be and do. There is more that he is making us into, and there are more ways to be help and hope for those around us.
Jesus is blessing us collectively through our lives here—for, we come to him together as the bride of Christ to gain our light for life. We are drawn together as Jesus is our reason because we praise him together for being our true point of hope. He is the light for us individually and collectively as we join together to speak forth the reason for our forward motion. His life unifies our hearts. And, his life leads us forward step by step each day.
He Is Our Home
Jesus is the Savior who had nowhere to call home: “And Jesus said to him, ‘Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.’” (Luke 9:58). And yet, this is the Savior who is our home.
When I think of home, I think of the candles burning, the fireplace roaring, and the doors closed to the outside elements. I think of a warm place, and a place where I can recline. I think of a place to welcome guests—provide food or lodging. I think of a place to share with family, and others who come to visit. I think of a home being the place where much of life happens—much of the routine of living. It is a place where I go to find the space to be myself—to stretch myself out and be, as much as possible.
I think of Jesus being our home, then. The Savior of the world being our resting place. He is the Savior who leads us home—away from the ways of the world and that loneliness to the ways of the Lord and his saving realities. He is constantly in the process of saving us from the world and welcoming us into his eternal presence. We grow to know him better and better through his Word in us to make us whole. We learn to stretch out with him—to be fuller and fuller versions of ourselves. And, he just simply is our place of comfort.
When I come home, I come to a place of rest. And Jesus—he is our rest. He is our home, in that we can be ourselves with him—indeed we learn who we are. Those weaknesses we thought were ours to bear until eternity, he relieves and lifts. He removes from us our besetting sins and he crowns us with joy and peace in his presence. Jesus is the light of our lives and the light of our days. He is where fire and candle dance in his presence and in his love. He is the place where we go for encouragement and comfort—for help and hope.
Where else do we have to go but to the everlasting arms of Jesus? There is no other place in this weary world for comfort and hope and help. There is nowhere else to go. There is nowhere else to be. There is nowhere else to be. Jesus wants us to find our home and help and blessedness with him. He wants us to go to him and be ourselves. He wants to be the foundation upon which we recline. Jesus is our hope and our help—our blessing and our security. He is all that a home should be, where we find our soul’s lodging and sustenance and rest.
When we trust in Jesus, we find the one who is our very best friend. The comfort and hope of our souls rest with him. And, is he not a marvel—that all of humanity, with all of the diversity of people, could find their true and perfect home with them? When a soul feels understood, it is said to find its “person”—its home. Jesus is that home for us. He is that rest and peace for us. He is that truth of person for us. Jesus is our unfolding hope—that is, he is where we can continue to develop and grow within a security of love.
Home is where love dwells. Home is where love expresses itself day by day. And, Jesus—he is with us through every day of our lives, providing home for our souls. Never does a day go by where he doesn’t welcome us to himself. Never is there a day that goes by in which he does not invite us to find respite and comfort with him. Our soul’s repose—for we are perfectly known and intimately loved—is in our Lord. As the old writers would say—avail yourself of Jesus. Take advantage of all of his blessings and comforts. Know that he is your soul’s home, and find your comfort there.
Jesus is where we go to find rest and help and peace. He is the light of our hearts, where we go when the weary world is crushing our spirits. He lifts and revives. He wraps his arms around us and breathes his life into our hearts. Jesus is the place where we rest our heads. He came to have nowhere to rest his head, such that we could recline on his breast all of the days of our lives. Let us go into him, close the door, and find the rest of our souls—known and wanted there in his holy presence.
He Is Our Stability
When I set my head down on my pillow each night, I have peace and rest that I know Jesus Christ. I have made the ask: I have trusted in him for my salvation. I don’t fully know why, but it was frightening to trust in him and only him for the salvation of my soul. Trusting in myself is what I knew. It is what I felt comfortable doing. But then, I put myself in his arms alone, and I rested there. I was safe and secure. He is our stability of salvation.
Each night as I rest, and before my mind falls into its sleep, I think about Jesus and the firm foundation that I have with him. I think about how I can lean on him—that he is my rest and my peace. Each night, I renew my decision to trust in Jesus for my salvation by resting in him. If something were to happen to me in my sleep, I would still be resting on him when I awoke in the realms of glory.
Yet, still, while reflecting here and resting here on this earth, he is the stability of my day. I know what to expect, walking with my dear Jesus. I know that he will surprise me with his plans for my life. I know that he will surprise me with how he leads and blesses me. I know that he will take me into interesting and new directions. I know that he will reveal my life to me as it moves forward. While he is surprising and inventive concerning my life direction and his leadership of me, he is also stable.
I know that he is holy and pure and true. I know that he is leading me for his Name’s sake. I know that his love will never end—it will go on forever and ever. It is an everlasting love. I know that my walk is solid when I walk in his ways. I know that my days are full of his mercy and dependent upon his abounding grace. I know that he will be there in prayer, listening and guiding my spirit forward. I know that he lifts me and prepares me for what he wants me to do.
I believe that Jesus likes to be our place of security and solidity. I believe with all my heart that he loves when his saints depend upon him alone. There is peace in knowing that Jesus is our security and safety. I think about all of the evil forces of this world—the realm of demons and devil. He will protect us from attack and from all temptation, providing a way out. Jesus is the King, and his kingdom is present here wherever he is acknowledged as the King—wherever he is obeyed as such. His kingdom is an everlasting kingdom. And, as a participant in his realm, I know that all of the forces of evil without and all of the evil tendencies within will meet their demise.
Knowing that Jesus rules the world is the stability of our lives and existences. He is our stabling force. When we are overwhelmed by the workings of the world and by the spiritual forces that are against us, he commands us well through his power and glory shining in and through us through the Holy Spirit. There is nothing about our lives that surprises God. There is nothing about our futures that catches him off-guard. If we are in a time of testing, we can trust that Jesus is the Rock upon which we can lean.
At times, there will be testing in our lives. There will be trials and patches of rough earth upon which we need to travel. But our prayers work because God has deemed our prayer to be effective with him. Our cries to him work. He answers them. We know that he loves to answer the prayers of his saints. And, he will rush to our side, being our guide and our fearless presence. He will send his help of stabilizing strength. Jesus is worth our trust. He will guide us through—sometimes with a different path or different results than on our minds. But he will guide us through nonetheless. Our paths will be straight through whatever we face.
The Lord stabilizes us through our salvation, through his charming leadership, through his steadfast character, through grappling with all of the forces of evil against us, and through experiencing difficulties in our lives. There is security in knowing the King of kings. And, though perhaps we would prefer that he rush us to his presence the moment we accept salvation, we can trust that he is working out his plan and ways for his purposes and glory. And we—we have the opportunity to show him our love for him now through our reliance upon him, and our trust that he is our good all of the days of our lives.
7 Truths about Jesus' Light from the Gospel of John
The apostle John makes a special point in writing about Jesus’ light. Though the list below is not comprehensive, we can glean several key features and truths about the light that Jesus is and gives to his followers.
1. Jesus’ life is the light of men. (John 1:4)
There is a special connection between light and life. Jesus’ life has a certain type of feature to it—it brings people into the light. It lifts the countenance, it rebukes sin like a storm, it denotes a level of peace with God that only Jesus can give. Jesus’ light is the light of life. His life perpetuates itself into our lives such that we continue on in light forever.
2. Jesus’ light shines in darkness. (John 1:5)
Jesus has come to bring his light to a context: the world. And, this passage shows that Jesus’ thinking, his teaching, his power, his manner of being, his perfection, and his ways are not of the darkness of this world. He does not think as man thinks—his thoughts and ways are higher. When we come to Jesus, we see a stark contrast between the world and the Way.
3. Jesus’ light is hated by the world. (John 3:20)
Sadly, those who trust themselves, who live for themselves, who follow the ways of the world, who haven’t come to the light of Christ for forgiveness and cleansing—those who are caught in the cycles of working evil hate the light. Exposure of evil goes against the world’s thinking. It acts contrary to the thought of the flesh that we are “good people.” True light exposes, but those who follow the pattern of the world do not want to be exposed. May it be known that coming to the light with Jesus is not frightening—he comes with us, as the strong Savior, and looks with us at our lives so that we can know and walk in the truth.
4. The repentant come to Jesus’ light. (John 3:21)
Those who recognize that true light is found in Christ are those who see the mercy of Christ. He offers his light to cleanse and bless—to help and uplift. He offers his light so that we can enter into the fullness of his life. Those who have accepted the mercy of God are those who are repenting of sin—they acknowledge the truth of God that there is no one who is good. The good work of repentance and walking with Christ that ensues means that those who walk with Jesus love to come to the light and give him all of the credit for their works that align with his ways.
5. Jesus is the light of the world, the light of life. (John 8:12)
Jesus is the majestic and worthy one of the Scriptures—the one who has walked into a world of darkness, that he might rescue and save it. Jesus’ light is far-reaching and bold. It is a light that is not easily forgotten, and a light that illumines the heart, mind, and soul. To experience Jesus is to be changed, to be new and fresh and pure. Jesus himself is the light—all of this goodness emanates from him.
6. Jesus’ followers become sons of light. (John 12:36)
By believing in the light, Jesus’ followers become sons of light. The light of Christ shines through his people. There is sin in God’s people, there is hypocrisy, there is confession needed, there is self-righteousness and pride and a host of wrongs—but sons of light long to be in the light, that sins may be forgiven and washed away and that true light might come from within where the Holy Spirit indwells the believer. He gives power and strength for increased goodness.
7. Jesus takes believers from darkness to light. (John 12:46)
There is a concrete change that occurs in the life of the son of light. And, it is a change wrought through the compassion of God. He came into the world to bring anyone who would believe in him from the darkness to the light. In the darkness, there is stumbling, there is evil, there is all manner of wrong. Jesus knows what he created us for—for fellowship with him who is Light. Jesus came to bring us to himself.
How beautiful that Jesus came to be the light of men! That the holy God would come to associate with our race, the human race, and is a gift of mercy. He aligned himself with mankind while being the perfect Light—to lift us to the place where we could know him and rejoice in what rejoices him. He is the Light of the world; he did the “unthinkable” in coming to become man so that he might illumine for us that he is the way to God. We required a change: to love what is light and lay aside darkness—to love what is pure and set down all manner of sin. And he is that change in us through the Holy Spirit.
This Christmas season, we can rejoice that Jesus is the light of men. As we see Christmas trees, and lights on home, candles in our churches and displays of lights in our cities—we can remember the true character of light. Jesus’ is a light that is contrary to the workings of the flesh and the world—and is all about giving Jesus the credit for shining through us. To know God’s goodness is to know life, and that life is eternally ours through the gift of Jesus’ coming.
A Slowness to the Season
One aspect of Christmas that I often forget is the slowness of the season. What I mean is this: there always seems to be a period of slowness as a pregnancy comes to full term. The mother is very ready to give birth. And, the child is in tighter and tighter of circumstances in the womb. Time must have slowed for Mary as she awaited the birth of her Lord. She must have felt very ready before the hour finally came. She must have felt the desire to give birth and have this precious, worthy Baby in her arms.
I would like to think that we can emulate the slowness of the season—as Mary experienced it. We can think about the preparations. Just like preparations for a newborn baby, do we have everything ready? There is a yearning to make preparations. But, they don’t make us less ready for the hour of celebrating our Savior’s birth, as if a to do list must tear us away from the season—they can make us more ready as we feel increased readiness. Though I know that time does not go by slowly, I think that we can allow our seasonal preparations to feel like the preparations for a newborn: they make us so expectant.
Slowness can also come in the form of waiting for the actual day. We make preparations, we travel, and we put up lights as a sign of the season’s illumination of our souls. All of this is done in preparation for a particular day of celebration. God had a few things prepared for the birth of his Son—the Shepherds, the star, and the angels, to name a few. Even though our preparations are for a celebration and not a birth, I think that the preparations can make us eagerly anticipate the day of celebration. Perhaps we can key into the slowness of the season here too. We are awaiting a day, a particular time, and it won’t come sooner than it’s scheduled.
Everywhere we look, there seem to be Advent devotionals or the encouragement to read the gospels, Isaiah, or the birth accounts in particular—Scripture makes us ready for the season, as do church sermons that have helped us meditate on the coming of Jesus. They all prepare us for a special day of the Baby’s arrival—of celebration of the birth of God. There is a slowness and a lingering that we can take over our spiritual preparations as well. This is a time of year when I often think even more about the people around me who aren’t walking with Jesus—taking time in prayer for them and hoping for their salvation. Scripture and sermons and Bible reading and prayer all make us ready.
It seems that we can mimic the slowness that describes those few days before birth—the deep and abiding readiness for the baby to come. It seems that we can take up our celebratory preparations and our spiritual preparations to make us feel ready while we ponder this special birth.
The slowness of the last period of a pregnancy was mirrored, I think in the slowness of the time of Jesus’ upbringing. He had a childhood. He had a career. He had a life—all before his public ministry. He must have felt so very ready in this gestational stage of his life to do what he was born to do. I wonder if he, in his humanness, felt the time slow as the day and hour of his ministry drew near.
Slowness can help us; pause can ready us. There is an inherent slowness to this season. And, I think that we are wise to let it come upon us. Just as Jesus’ life ushered forth into a period of public ministry, we can have seasons of time that are preparing us for more of what God wants us to do. Are you in a period of preparation? Are you in a period of becoming readied? Are you in a season of slowness before a new stage of life starts?
This season we call Advent reminds us that there are seasons of slowness before seasons of work and calling. Mary held the Christ child closely in her womb while she waited, waited, and waited for his birth—to hold the precious child, her Lord. Jesus lived a life of waiting all before he picked up his ministry. There is a slowness that is precious for our souls. A slowness of remembrance of Christ. A slowness of remembrance that we belong to God, for his work and purpose. A slowness before the celebration breaks forth. A slowness before we are led into another phase of life.
Let’s allow our preparations tune us into our readiness, as God prepares us to see Christ’s birth freshly and as we are gathering ourselves for what God has for us in the new year of walking afresh with this Jesus. Take up these moments as we wait for the celebration of our Savior’s first breath and gracious life.
7 Reasons to Stand Against False Teaching
“Do your best,” the apostle Paul writes to protégé Timothy, “Do your best to present yourself to God has one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15a). Paul is promoting a kind of eager, committed persistence for the truth that the flawless Word of God inspires in us who believe.
According to 2 Timothy 2:15-19, we can learn to stand in truth and against false teaching for at least seven reasons:
God is to be pleased.
False teaching leads to ungodliness.
False teaching quickly spreads.
The faith of some believers might be upset by false teaching.
A firm foundation already exists.
God differentiates between those who spread truth versus falsehood.
False teaching is sin.
Paul unfolds his reasons about fervency for the truth on the basis of who God is and the kind of regard we are to have for Him and those around us.
Because God is Worthy
1.) God is to be pleased.
According to Paul’s teaching, one reason to be firm in the faith is for God to be pleased. Timothy was to view his work as a preacher/ leader as being directly for the Lord. In our contexts, we can consider our handling of God’s Word also as labor we present to Him in love.
We stand against false teaching because God is highly worthy to be pleased with our deeds.
2.) False teaching leads to ungodliness.
Paul progresses to instruct Timothy that any talk irreverent toward Scriptural truth will only produce more and more ungodliness. If believers present the Word of God as trivial, as means for personal gain or influence, or as mere material for displays of intelligence, wit, or debate skill, these self-serving attitudes can be readily replicated by others—far more readily than the devotion that comes from following God with one’s whole heart.
We stand against false—irreverent—teaching because we follow a God who deserves our fear and devotion so that our human words might reflect well upon the worth of divine ones.
Because People Stand to Be Deluded
3.) False teaching quickly spreads.
In 2 Timothy 2:17, Paul reiterates that irreverence can spread like a deadly condition. If we are dismissive about the importance of studying, discerning, and conveying the truth of God, others around us stand to be swayed. Those who might have been receptive to the authority of the Scriptures can find their interest in a complete commitment to Christ and His Word diminished if a less demanding alternative is made to seem viable.
4.) The faith of some believers might be upset by false teaching.
False teaching can also bear an impression upon committed believers. 2 Timothy 2:18 teaches: “[Those who have swerved from the truth] are upsetting the faith of some.” People who have been born again may entertain doubts about orthodox truths because falsehood can often sound profound and persuasive, what was once clear becoming clouded.
We stand against false teaching so that the seeker is not deterred from having ears that hear and the believer is not deluded into believing he or she has an unstable foundation.
Because God Has Spoken
At least three more reasons for determined persistence in truth are conveyed in Timothy 2:19: “But God’s firm foundation stands, bearing this seal: ‘The Lord knows those who are his,’ and, ‘Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity.’”
5.) A firm foundation already exists.
As Paul’s ultimate impetus for presenting oneself as a right handler of God’s Word, he indicates that God’s truth cannot be broken—that its authority stands regardless of the actions or attitudes of men. So, we stand against false teaching because God’s Word is exactly that.
6.) God differentiates between those who spread truth and falsehood.
By way of support, Paul outlines two primary inscriptions on God’s unbreakable foundation. First, God is able to differentiate between those who speak truth versus those who speak falsehood. While people might be deluded by false teaching, God’s perception is piercing. He knows.
We stand against false teaching because we are not judged by others’ reception to God’s message. Should world, friends, or family reject us for truth—that God sees us and knows us can be our strength and comfort.
7.) False teaching is sin.
Paul then refers to an activity that ought to characterize believers—while not being sinless, we are to be those departing from our sins. We stand against false teaching because teaching God’s truth falsely is iniquity.
Two Ways I Stand Against False Teaching
As a church member
In my daily life, one way I stand against false teaching is through my ongoing commitment to the kind of home church I have selected. I have confidence that those entering the place our church worships will receive words from the pulpit that arise from the Scriptures and that have been presented to and weighed before God prior to being delivered to the congregation. And, I have confidence in the eagerness of my church to attend to the truth of all that is being taught throughout its leadership, from pastor and elder to small group leader.
As a parent
Another way I stand against false teaching is through mothering my four-year-old daughter. I engage with her in apologetic and polemical work as we discuss the world in which we live—its reception to Christ and its favorite messages to her age group.
As a family, we also seek to find new ways to discuss and describe the gospel message, teaching nuances and applications. This guards against misconceptions that further teaching can dispel and against the fallenness of human memory that can find itself withered where once stoutly built. All of this I do as a follower of Christ who is ever needful of Him and His cross. So, as often as I sin against my daughter, I seek to make swift apology—to uphold what is right through failure to do it. After apologizing, I often reaffirm to her the truth of the perfection of God, who never does her wrong—and we rejoice in Him, and His truthfulness and graciousness, together.
Being firm in the faith can be considered a habitual occupation—a layer of good work for the Lord that rests atop the rest of the labor of our days. We can hear Paul’s instructions to Timothy like a refreshing call of reminder to be fervent about what is true, about the faith that has been delivered once for all to us, the saints (Jude 3).
This post was originally published at Unlocking the Bible.
Luther Taught Me to Have Faith Again Today
These present days of Christian life can feel disjointed—I have been reborn, but am not glorified. Or, I have been made alive to the things of God, but am not without the sin He hates.
How Do I Relate with God, Though I Still Sin?
I have received the grace of Christ in justification—I trust that God credits Christ’s righteousness to me. I trust too that God will make me perfect in future glory, and that He is making me more like Christ by the power of the Spirit on this earth. But even while knowing Christ’s beauty, love, and hope, I have sorrowfully sinned this day.
So, though having been reborn and having hope in eternity, I have found a question concerning my day-to-day fellowship with God percolating within me: How do I relate with God at this present time, amidst the reality of my present sin that is incompatible with my new and future life in Christ?
Luther’s Answer Is Daily Faith
Reformer Martin Luther explains how living in constant fellowship with God on this earth depends upon ongoing faith. He writes that God “deals with us according to our belief in Christ until sin is killed.”[1]
Though my basis for approaching God cannot be that I have refrained from selfishness or that I have loved God will all of my being this day, I can approach God with faith in Christ. I can commune with him through faith that my burden of sins is removed from me—not strictly my burden of past sins, but the ones that would have just this day earned damnation for me, if not for Christ.
Daily Faith in God’s Grace
The gospel was not only true at the point of my conversion, and will not only be evident at the time of my glorification, but is in effect this minute. My Christ-purchased fellowship with God is preserved and available, though I am not without sin. This in-between time seems designed to continually remind me of God’s kindness anew—as I continually must acknowledge my need for this grace.
I require a sustaining, presently-saving work of God—a work no less necessary to keep me from wrath than my initial rebirth. I can never be without the gospel because I am saved again every day. I am not suggesting that I must be re-justified, or born again again. My one-time justification instantly ushered me into the realm of peace with God (Romans 5:1). But, as Paul teaches, Christians are presently “being saved” by the gospel (1 Corinthians 1:18, 15:2), and are presently “being guarded” in a state of peace with God by his power, which takes place through the continual relationship with Christ of faith (1 Peter 1:5).
God knows I am not perfect; I am not to approach Him as if I were. He knows I am not made to stand independently of Christ; I am never to approach Him as if I could. I come before the Father in Christ with faith—yesterday, today, and until faith becomes sight.
Daily Faith with Full Assurance
Luther describes faith as ongoing in the Christian life: “Faith is a living, unshakeable confidence in God’s grace.”[2] And this is how God would have me approach Him, with full assurance of pardon and certainty of salvation—for I do know Christ, and this is true to how I know my Lord to be.
Luther continues: “This kind of trust in and knowledge of God's grace makes a person joyful, confident, and happy with regard to God and all creatures.”[3] Not only are my questions of practical fellowship with God met with God’s daily grace, these questions are spun through Christ into new praises of the present day’s preservation.
In this practice of imperfectly coming before Him, God impresses upon me a glad, bold, happy certitude that none of this salvation stems from me. I could not earn it at first, and I cannot sustain it at present. But nevertheless, it is sustained! Salvation for today is delivered by the God whose mercies are new toward me every morning (Lamentations 3:23).
Daily Faith That Sustains Good Works
When I do come before this kind God, then, I desire that I might bring to him not only the confessions of how his grace has been needed, but my thanks too—offerings of glad, good works that His grace has wholly enabled and inspired.
Luther describes how faith is connected to a willing spirit:
Through faith, a person will do good to everyone without coercion, willingly and happily; he will serve everyone, suffer everything for the love and praise of God, who has shown him such grace. It is as impossible to separate works from faith as burning and shining from fire.[4]
Doing good works—this aspect of my fellowship with God—is sustained through daily faith as well. For faith is completed—it finds its fitting outlet—by works (James 2:22); if faith in in God’s assurance of grace is not continual, neither will works be. But as faith is exercised, works flow.
I think the Christian life will continue to feel disjointed—for, I am declared righteous, but do not live fully righteously. But God’s grace is laced through each phase of the pilgrimage to support it all—not only justification and glorification, but also this present day’s salvation.
Luther has taught me to exercise faith in the Lord again today—that this present, imperfect moment in time meets a grace perfect and preserving. Every day until sin is no more, God communes with me once again through faith in my Lord.
[1] Martin Luther, Preface to the Letter of St. Paul to the Romans (Grand Rapids: Christian Classics Ethereal Library, n.d.), 5, https://www.ccel.org/ccel/luther/prefacetoromans.pdf.
[2] Ibid., 6.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Ibid.
This post was originally published at Unlocking the Bible.
We Are Never Helpless in Helping
Regularly, I encounter suffering in other believers’ lives that I cannot remedy or change. Further, I am unable to comprehend the full impact and the unique features of others’ pressures and sorrows. Yet, I often desire to be that impossibly close. Knowing what I cannot do could lead to discouragement. But the apostle Paul writes of a better way.
“Join Me”
Paul tells—no, urges—the church in Rome to join him in his struggle (Romans 15:30). He doesn’t instruct his fellow Christians to solely accept and acknowledge their real limitations in helping him. He also doesn’t say that because they are not the agents of solution or omniscient listeners, they aren’t much help after all. He tells them to enter into his concerns.
After teaching upon teaching of gospel theology in his letter to the Romans, Paul then writes to the church in Rome about his needs. He desires to be free in Judea to continue his mission and well-received in ministry in Jerusalem (cf. Acts 24:17), all so that he may be refreshed through a trip to the church at Rome(Romans 15:31-32). And Paul gives the church at Rome these prayer requests fundamentally on the basis of their being fellow believers who share with him in the love of God through Christ, as his letter describes. While he is hoping to visit them, he has been prevented from doing so (Romans 1:13). But he entreatsthat they share his concerns; he wants their help.
As one immediate and personal application of the theology he had been teaching—a theology that joins believers together in the Lord—he asks them to pray.
“I urge you, brothers and sisters, by our Lord Jesus Christ and by the love of the Spirit, to join me in my struggle by praying to God for me.”
Romans 15:30 NIV
Commonality Affects Prayer
If any of the recipients of his letter have merely casual concerns for him thus far, he urges them forward. If they have little to no concerns, he asks them to consider their same Lord and the same love of the Holy Spirit among them—the God who makes their priorities and sense of mission shared. And if they already do have significant concern, then he directs that drive of compassion toward one end—the means by which he believes that he will substantially receive their aid.
When a believer is suffering and we want to help more than we possibly can help, we can pray.
Perhaps you have done all that you are able to do in the life of a suffering friend—been present to listen, continued toremembered him or her over time, sought to offer specific service of some kind, or insightful and compassionate words of biblical help that God has enabled you to provide—and you still feel as though you wish you could do more. Don’t belittle the help you have already given. And then, don’t doubt the purpose of the compassion that is remaining in your heart; don’t allow it to make you feel helpless. It’s there for a purpose.
As we pray for God’s glory in the lives of our believing friends and family members, we remember what He can do:
God can see into our inner beings to know our exact needs,preparing corresponding provisions of Himself to help the believer stay near to Him in sorrow. The Holy Spirit is able to guide the suffering Christian into the truth of the Word, the truth that affords lasting comfort and provides foundation for perseverance.
God could change circumstances altogether, glorifying Himself through a demonstration of His power. And He can also arrange the sufferer’s days to allow for upliftingcircumstantial help amidst pain.
God can provide opportunities through suffering by the Spirit to display Christ-like character and proclaim the gospel that alone gives hope, as God’s glory radiates through the believer’s life. God can enable the Christian to maintain, and often increase, his or her witness to Christ while in the saddest of days.
God can move the Christian’s inner spirit to pray with a hopeful, expectant, and believing heart that He would come back for His own soon. And the Christian’s spirit can also gain greater compassion for those who yet do not have the hope of the gospel, thanking God for His patience with this world.
God can press His good purposes into human sorrow with such power that the believer can have immense joy through the privilege of glorifying His Name and depending upon Him at all times. Paul is, of course, right. We have commonality through our shared love of God that enables us to instantaneously understand the manner in which we can pray for one another.
Additionally, Paul does not only ask for prayer as a fellow believer, but also as one who is engaged in a life devoted to the ministry of the Word and to the spread of the gospel to those who had not yet heard it. As we think of those who are suffering, we can pray too for believers experiencing various pressures as a result of their devotion to ministry and missions—joining as supporters of their labors.
Never Helpless in Helping
Because we have prayer, we are never helpless in helping. We can call upon the Lord who knows us and all of our circumstances with knowledge that is comprehensive, familiar, and precise. Pressing into our desires to help others in impossible-to-us ways is useful, hope-filled. For, in those desires, we remember to pray into others’ lives the comforts of our shared, infinite God.
This post was originally published at The Ploughman’s Rest.
Proverbs for the Writer
“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge” (Proverbs 1:7). This, stated my professor, would be the starting point for our class on doctrine. Delivered to Bible college by the bus of the public school system, this axiom was delightfully new to my academic environment. The basis of a for-credit class would be not only the knowledge of God, but a pursuit of knowing God from a requested disposition of worship and humility? I gleaned from Proverbs 1:7 and this class: Humble yourself before God in order to know Him. Who He is as Lord requires it!
This principle has followed into my present-day studies and writing. I do not first learn and write so that I can write a post or make a submission. I first learn and write, privately, so that I can love my God more and better as He deserves. If He so ordains my study and writing to remain private, I am content—no, rejoicing!—already.
When God does ordain study and writing to be for others—not only my transformation and worship—I find that the book of Proverbs also gives help for handling the truth and conveying it from the basis of humility before the Scriptures. A survey of Proverbs has been helpful to me as a framework for wise theological blogging—and if you are a studier and writer, I invite you to peer into these notes I have made on Proverbs in case they are beneficial for you as well:
“For the LORD gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding” (Prov. 2:6). If I am writing theologically, I ask: What is the basis for truth in my words—how has His revelation driven these words?
“The LORD by wisdom founded the earth; by understanding he established the heavens; by his knowledge the deeps broke open, and the clouds drop down the dew” (Prov. 3:19-20). If the Lord made all of creation with wisdom, understanding, and knowledge, how many depths of these do I not know? My eyes can distinguish only drops. So, I am led to specificity with my words, attempting to not write of little-known (to me) depths, to be watchful for assumptions, and to not champion my own sense of reasonableness.
“My son, be attentive to my wisdom; incline your ear to my understanding, that you may keep discretion, and your lips may guard knowledge” (Prov. 5:1-2). To accurately preserve the knowledge of God when writing about Him is a sacred charge. Thus, I work against a rambling writing style and thoughtless, vague metaphors. For with these, the full point is purposefully beyond ascertaining and misinterpretations are easily made, causing truth to be delivered in obscured tidbits, at best.
“The wise lay up knowledge, but the mouth of a fool brings ruin near” (Prov. 10:14). Truth about God is to be sought as gold, causing me to desire carefully-selected and to document accessibly-cataloged sources.
“Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates reproof is stupid” (Prov. 12:1). To be corrected into better theology is a service to me—disagreement on content never being taken personally. Public debates and dialogues can be appreciated for the same reason—that they might purify the theological understandings of readers beyond those directly involved.
“A scoffer seeks wisdom in vain, but knowledge is easy for a man of understanding” (Prov. 14:6; c.f. 15:14). A desire to exalt God’s perfections and ways allows theological knowledge to be healthily absorbed. And this parallels then passing forward knowledge through writing. When God is the focus, study and personal experiences flow into being utilized for demonstrating and conveying truth.
“The tongue of the wise commends knowledge, but the mouths of fools pour out folly” (Prov. 15:2). Before I began blogging and was familiar with the evangelical blogging landscape, I appreciated and commended truth-saturated articles from evangelical sites irrespective of the writer. Since, I have become more familiar with the blogosphere’s writers and notice the bylines when I read articles, yet I still aim to remember my former mindset. Meaning, I like to remember that other readers are likely looking at the knowledge content of articles at ministry blog sites—over and above the writers. What I write, the substance, is deserving of my attention—not that I have been the one to write it. If truth has been conveyed—whether through me or someone else—I can rejoice.
“Whoever restrains his words has knowledge, and he who has a cool spirit is a man of understanding” (Prov. 17:27). I have been a writer who thought I knew much; later, I experienced conversations with a humble professor at seminary who confessed how much he stood to learn. Far surpassing me, he chose to not answer some of my questions on this basis. I saw him demonstrate wise restraint—I was impressed and immediately desired to possess the same disposition.
“Desire without knowledge is not good, and whoever makes haste with his feet misses his way” (Prov. 19:2). The organizational, connective, and creative aspects of blogging have all been part of my desire to write online. Yet, these desires needed to be weighed. And this proverb has taught me a singular test: Am I publishing this to promote the knowledge and worship of God? On this basis, my impulses are honed, steered, or rejected.
“The eyes of the LORD keep watch over knowledge, but he overthrows the words of the traitor” (Prov. 22:12). Theology is a study involving precision and accuracy. God is worthy to be pursued and known for who He has revealed Himself to be, which causes me to—prayerfully—refrain from taking liberties with Scripture.
“By wisdom a house is built, and by understanding it is established; by knowledge the rooms are filled with all precious and pleasant riches” (Prov. 24:4; c.f. 24:5). Needing to be built and filled implies process and progress—or, hard work—not the Google searches I often employ. How much will I exemplify my love for God by working in a disciplined manner for more understanding of Him? This proverb reminds me to watch the lives of those already more disciplined and studied. How compelling, reaching, and fluid are the words of those who have long studied God! I can witness the reward.
Just as I learned in Bible school that knowledge of God starts with humble study, so when I write theologically for others, my words can also humbly submit to His revelation. When God’s Word drives the substance of my words for others, unhelpful practices and mindsets can be more easily and routinely eliminated. My best defense against temptations that accompany writing online is a high view of God, a fear of Him—that He is utterly worthy of words that honor who He is and make Him wisely known.
This post was originally published at Servants of Grace.
Imitating Jonathan Edwards’ Godly Parenting
Words filled with biblical truth spoken into an air of uncertainty must be among the most agonizing parents can deliver to a child. Will children receive the Scriptures as foolishness or as the wisdom of God (1 Corinthians 1:18)? The answer is not always known.
As parents, if closeness with our children were the only aim when they approach us with their fears and pains, we might restrict our replies to: “God is near. He is with you” or “God aches with you.” I find momentous biblical truth about the character of God in each of these replies (Hebrews 13:5; Lamentations 3:32-33).
Yet, when in self-sacrificial love for our children we prioritize their relationships with God over and above their relationships with us, more biblical counsel emerges. This counsel potentially puts the parent-child relationship at risk for the sake of their good (Matthew 19:29) and sends us in prayer toward a God who draws people to himself.
Jonathan Edwards and His Daughter, Esther
Jonathan Edwards offered this kind of self-sacrificial love to his daughter, Esther. He wrote the following words to her when she was ill. His words meet the reality of the world’s sorrows:
I would not have you think that any strange thing has happened to you in this affliction: ‘Tis according to the course of things in this world, that after the world’s smiles, some great affliction soon comes.[1]
He counsels her to make the time of illness useful within her spirit:
God has now given you early and seasonable warning not at all to depend on worldly prosperity.
Having humility before God about her earthly illness would foster contentment in eternal rest. If she cannot improve her circumstance on this earth, Edwards advises she look to the eternal glory God might glean from her difficult season:
Therefore I would advise….if it pleases God to restore you, to lot upon no happiness here.
Labour while you live, to serve God and do what good you can, and endeavor to improve every dispensation to God’s glory and your own spiritual good, and be content to do and bear all that God calls you to in this wilderness, and never expect to find this world any thing better than a wilderness.
Lay your account to travel through it in weariness, painfulness, and trouble, and wait for your rest and your prosperity ‘till hereafter where they that die in the Lord rest from their labours, and enter into the joy of their Lord.
He encourages his daughter to give herself wholly to the Lord in suffering. He can deliver challenging, truth-focused counsel because he has already made the same commitment to the Lord in his life. As a loving parent, being at a distance from his child without hope for future visits would undoubtedly be painful.
But the exemplary nature of his contented commitment to God is on display when writing to his suffering daughter who is out of his reach, across many miles.
You are like to spend the rest of your life (if you should get over this illness) at a great distance from your parents, but care not much for that. If you lived near us, yet our breath and yours would soon go forth, and we should return to our dust, whither we are all hastening.
‘Tis of infinitely more importance to have the presence of an heavenly Father, and to make process towards an heavenly home. Let us all take care that we may meet there at last.[2]
He delivers world-denying hope in courageous words to a hurting child. First, by speaking challenging thoughts he risks that his words might be met with disagreement causing relational distance.
Second, he speaks words for the good of his child, without thought of himself. He advises his daughter to “care not much for” being near or far from him—so long as she remains near to the Lord. Edwards clearly has no greater joy than that his daughter would walk in the truth (3 John 1:4).
My Own Parenting
I do not want any less than what Edwards exemplifies. I would not ultimately want a pleasant-enough relationship with my daughter to the detriment of considering eternity—heaven and hell—together. Truth may be agonizing, at times, to convey—but these kinds of words are good; they are love. Speaking them is the kind of risk God asks me to take for the sake of Christ and the good of my daughter (Romans 10:14).
When my daughter is grown, I want her to see parents like Edwards. I want us to be rightfully content in the Lord so that our only request and hope is that she walk with the Lord to eternity. Edwards’ counsel is compelling, in part, because he is true to maintaining an eternal focus himself. To ask my daughter to follow me in contentment where I have never been would prove challenging!
Ultimately, Edwards and his daughter are brought closer together through this focus. Esther writes of their relationship:
Last eve I had some free discourse with My Father on the great things that concern my best interest—I opened my difficulties to him very freely and he as freely advised and directed.
The conversation has removed some distressing doubts that discouraged me much in my Christian warfare—He gave me some excellent directions to be observed in secret that tend to keep the soul near to God, as well as others to be observed in a more publick way—What a mercy that I have such a Father! Such a Guide![3]
Every decision of faith in the Lord is solely each individual’s to make. But, parents can aid their children’s individual decisions by refusing to create a relational dynamic intent on bringing us a sense of happiness and fulfillment.
Looking to Edwards and his Esther, as a type of Christ-exalting relationship, we can continue to aim higher, with prayerful hope, for the kind of rich comradery that flows when both parties, by God’s grace, love the truth and content themselves in the Lord alone.
This post was originally published at Unlocking the Bible.
Don’t Let Suffering Silence Your Prayers
I called the nurse into the hospital room, “I think I felt her kick. Can we check?”
A shadow passed over her face. Not many minutes prior, the doctor had told me, my husband, and the nurses that my yet-to-be-born, 42-week daughter had no heartbeat.
The nurse gave me the monitor and asked if I wanted to use it. She quietly, kindly excused herself from the room. But I think her face held some pity. Perhaps she thought I was having trouble accepting reality. But I knew my God could undoubtedly answer my prayer for renewed earthly life for my daughter.
Soon, circling my stomach, I understood that my prayer had not been answered with a “yes.” As time went on, that “yes” seemed less and less likely.
Home from the hospital daughter-less, I was no longer sure how to pray for new requests. I had not presumed that God owed me a “yes,” and I was not angry at him. But because that particular request had felt urgent and precious, I suddenly felt I had little I wanted to ask of him. I was silenced.
Five years have passed since the fresh grief of losing our daughter, but I was recently impressed by a biblical figure who endures terrible hardship with a far different response to prayer in the midst of his pain—Nehemiah.
God’s people had been justly exiled from their homeland, with only some surviving (Neh. 1:2). But a remnant returns to the homeland, first led by Zerubbabel and second by Ezra to relearn the law of God and to rebuild.
The book of Ezra records the generous faithfulness of God to allow this return and rebuild:
Yet our God has not forsaken us in our slavery,but has extended to us his steadfast love before the kings of Persia, to grant us some reviving to set up the house of our God, to repair its ruins, and to give us protection in Judea and Jerusalem. (Ezra 9:9)
With a personal interest in this rebuild for his fellow people and for the sake of God’s name, Nehemiah, an honored cupbearer in Persia to the king, eagerly inquires about the Judean remnant. But unfortunately, he receives news that the walls around the city are broken and destroyed, for progress has been halted (Ezra 4:12, 17-23). Rebuilding efforts are dampened, leaving the remnant without the protection of walls. They receive a “not right now” answer from God that they don’t expect.
As one who is acquainted with suffering, I wonder if the people felt a measure of finality in this development—God has said “no,” so what more should we pray? Perhaps the remnant thought: I have accepted a “no” from God on this exceedingly dear request. I have accepted it and am even ready to bear another “no.” So, for what else should I pray? This is how I felt concerning my daughter.
Nehemiah understands what feeling sorrow upon sorrow is like. Upon hearing of the remnant: “I sat down and wept and mourned for days” (Neh. 1:4a). Yet, what directly follows from Nehemiah’s mourning is an invitation for God’s people who are suffering to still see purpose in prayer. Nehemiah offers exemplary words to the Lord amidst his tears (Neh. 1:5-11). He remembers God’s character and covenant with a clear belief that the Word of God unalterably stands. Because of this, he knows that he has a legitimate basis for coming before God.
In tears and after hearing of opposition, he is remarkably able to pray, “let your ear be attentive and your eyes open, to hear the prayer of your servant” (1:6a). Instead of his suffering stalling him from prayer, he expectantly requests God’s “ear” and “eyes.” One commentator notes, “The superficially curious juxtapositioning of ‘eyes’ and ‘hearing’ provides a fully intelligible metaphor.”[1] With earnestness, Nehemiah requests God’s attuned attention. I admire Nehemiah’s fervor to seek the face of God after his homeland and many of his fellow people had been destroyed, after rebuilding efforts had been stilted, and more—after the fame of his God might have seemed to be discounted among the nations due to the exile. He had faith in God’s Word. And therefore, he trusted that a “not right now” was different than a “never”—and he knew that a “not right now” was only a reason to keep praying.
While my daughter will never have more breath in this life, Nehemiah was granted success for further rebuilding efforts. Though our requests and results are not parallel in that sense, I think about the grander principle of the reputation of the Lord in both. God would allow Nehemiah to rebuild the walls and further pursue restoration after exile for the sake of His covenant name and faithfulness. And God did demonstrate the power of His name through His presence and the strength—spiritual and otherwise—He gave me even in the early hours of birthing a still child. After the sorrowful “no” I received to prayer and after likely seeming illogical to the hospital’s medical staff in my knowledge of God’s capabilities, God was not done.
And He is not done with us who believe. His name is great—all will see it, and we are right to have faith in the silencing moments. We are right to keep praying. That is the hope intrinsic to Nehemiah’s story. And that is the hope intrinsicto the story of all believers. Devastating circumstances and prayers that are met with “no” or “not right now” may introduce the darkest times of life, but even these cannot thwart the holy arc of God’s glorious plans that reign above this earthly existence.
Soon, God would help me pray again. I would find words before Him. I started with a sentence from the apostle Paul, turning it into a prayer for tear-filled days. May what has happened to me actually serve to advance the gospel (Phil. 1:12). Reminiscent of Nehemiah’s prevailing concern for God’s name and reputation (Neh. 1:9, 11), this kind of prayer can well pour from the suffering soul. For when our anticipated trajectory for life crashes, we know God’s forever-plan still stands. And as long as God’s plan is unfolding, we will have a reason to fold our hands and say, “hear the prayer of your servant” (Neh. 1:6).
[1] H. G. M. Williamson, Word Biblical Commentary, Vol. 16: Ezra, Nehemiah, gen. ed. David A Hubbard and Glenn W. Barker (Waco, Texas: Word Books, 1985), 173.
This post was originally published at Servants of Grace.
70 Prompts for Giving Thanks to God
“Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever! Let the redeemed of the LORD say so, whom he has redeemed from trouble and gathered in from the lands, from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south.”
Today, I am listing 70 prompts for giving thanks to God as one of his redeemed. God, you have:
1. given me a way to rejoice at all times (Phil. 4:4; 2 Cor. 6:10).
2. comforted me in all of my sorrows (1 Cor. 1:4).
3. not treated me as I deserve (Ps. 103:10).
4. given me all of the good gifts that I enjoy (1 Tim. 6:17; Jas. 1:17).
5. been the perfect peace of my soul, though I still sorrowfully sin (Rom. 5:1).
6. not counted my sins against me (2 Cor. 5:19).
7. suffered and died for my sins (1 Pet. 3:18).
8. cleansed me by your blood (Matt. 26:28; Heb. 9:22; Heb. 13:12).
9. satisfied the wrath of God on my account (Rom. 5:9).
10. not destined me for wrath, but for salvation (1 Thess. 5:9-10).
11. set me a place at your table (Rev. 19:6-9).
12. welcomed me into your family (Eph. 1:5).
13. awakened me to spiritual reality with your holy anger (Rom. 2:5).
14. led me to uprightness through teachings of judgment (Rom. 14:12; 2 Cor. 5:10).
15. taught me right and wrong (Heb. 4:12).
16. given clear warnings to protect me (Mk. 8:38, Jude 3).
17. not let my foot slip (Ps. 121:3,7).
18. defined me as a saint, not a sinner (Rom. 1:7; Jude 1:3; Rev. 14:12).
19. given me a family of believers that is eternal (Matt. 12:50).
20. transferred my citizenship to your kingdom (Col. 1:13; Phil. 3:20; 1 Pet. 2:9).
21. made me part of your bride (Eph. 5:25-27).
22. remained faithful when I have not displayed faith (2 Tim. 2:13).
23. caused me to awe at your holiness (Isa. 6:5; Rev. 1:17).
24. already brought holiness into my life (Gal. 5:16-17).
25. given me love for your perfection and a longing to be like you (Deut. 32:4; Ps. 19:7; Matt. 5:48; 1 Cor. 13:10).
26. planned good obedience for me, even now (Eph. 2:10).
27. granted me true spiritual light (2 Cor. 4:6).
28. shown me valid wisdom (1 Cor. 2:13-14).
29. worked wise perspectives into my life (Ps. 19:7).
30. enabled me to know your first priority to inform my life decisions (1 Cor. 15:3-4).
31. greatly loved me through your discipline (Prov. 3:11-12; Heb. 12:6).
32. brought me back to your Word, many times (Ps. 119:176).
33. directed me with authority (Prov. 4:11; Matt. 28:18).
34. been to me the authority worth unreservedly following (Gen. 18:25b; Rev. 22:13).
35. gifted me fear through which I am straightened and can be satisfied (Ps. 112:1, 20; Ps. 147:11; Ps. 34:9; Prov. 22:4).
36. made me lower than I was (Rom. 12:3; 2 Cor. 12:9-10).
37. brought me through fire purer than I was (1 Pet. 1:7).
38. held me near (Ps. 18:16).
39. shown me what love is (1 Jn. 4:10).
40. delighted in me (Ps. 147:11; Ps. 149:4).
41. had compassion for my neediness in sin (Matt. 9:36).
42. waited for me with patience (2 Pet. 3:9).
43. called me to know you (1 Cor. 1:9; Rom. 8:30).
44. set me on a foundation that will never buckle (Eph. 2:20).
45. shifted me into better alignment with my foundation (Eph. 2:21).
46. enabled me, by your Word, to be solid when circumstances were not (Ps. 119:89).
47. led me to goodness (Ps. 23:1, 6).
48. been my only good (Mk. 10:18; Ps. 34:10).
49. poured your joy into my soul, enacting strength (Neh. 8:10).
50. provided the desire to worship you alone (Ps. 86:10).
51. made me bow that justice belongs to you in your timing (Jn. 5:22; Rom. 12:19).
52. caused me to rejoice in the truth (1 Cor. 13:6).
53. always told me the truth about myself (2 Tim. 3:16).
54. allowed me to mourn in myself more of what you hate (Rom. 2:4).
55. heard my prayers and inclined your ear to my spiritual need (Ps. 116:1).
56. taught me to love in truth (1 Jn. 3:18; Jn. 17:17).
57. in turn made your truth the cherished foundation of my dearest relationships (Eph. 4:13, 15; Prov. 13:20).
58. provided me with people I can imitate (1 Thess. 1:6).
59. challenged me to not coast in the elementary teachings of the gospel (Heb. 6:1-3).
60. taught me more of your beauty through your law (Ps. 119:14-20).
61. preserved the Word I am privileged to have copies of and read (Matt. 5:18).
62. preserved the Church I am privileged to be a member of (Matt. 16:18).
63. given me examples in the history of your people, prodding me forward (Heb. 12:1).
64. caused this pale earth to not feel like my home (Heb. 13:14).
65. foreshadowed my resurrection by your own (1 Cor. 15:22-23).
66. added me to your inheritance (Eph. 1:11; Col. 3:23-24).
67. said that my death will only bring me to life (Rom. 8:38-39; Phil. 1:21).
68. set certain hope before my eyes (Tit. 1:2).
69. shown me that your work is real—it must be for any goodness to be in me (Phil. 1:6).
70. given me a dear urgency to please you more, considering all you have given (Phil. 2:12).
Thank you, my God, for you have redeemed me, and I say so!
This post was originally published at Unlocking the Bible.
Becoming a Selective Listener—In the Best Sense
Our so-called “information age”—when information has become the going commodity—involves voluminous data, assertions, thoughts, and opinions whizzing both from and toward us online. Within this environment, not only do false teachers exist—as in historical times—but they have now inherited the power to ask for attention through greater reach, even paying for more influence.
Has ever a time existed when selectivity about whom we follow for spiritual guidance been a more vital skill?
Unwise Listening
Regardless, this is not a new challenge. Even many years ago, Reformer John Calvin recognized a human propensity toward being unwise listeners. He noted,
Men, of their own accord, choose to be deceived rather than to be properly instructed […] the world will have ears so refined, and so excessively desirous of novelty, that it will collect for itself various instructors, and will be incessantly carried away by new inventions.
Following Calvin and his wariness for theological ingenuity, to cultivate biblically-formed, selective listening skills can be considered a duty. In fact, being a passive listener does not appear to be a biblical category—and by “passive listening” here, I mean falsely believing that I am not choosing the messages I am influenced by because they come toward me online, outside my seeking. Instead, being swayed by fancy-sounding, yet sub-biblical teaching is, according to Calvin, a choice.
Selective Listening and Scripture
Psalm 1:1 shows a progression for falling away from the truth of Scripture: walkingwith wicked counsel, standing in the way of this counsel, and then openly sitting in congruence with evil. Again, Calvin writes that Psalm 1:1
…shows how by little and little men are ordinarily induced to turn aside from the right path. They do not, at the first step, advance so far as a proud contempt of God but having once begun to give ear to evil counsel, Satan leads them, step by step, farther astray, till they rush headlong into open transgression.
2 Timothy 4:3-4 reveals a similarly flawed pattern—listening to teachers who are not sound, taking action by turning from truth, and, finally, wandering off altogether.
Both patterns begin with listening.
When commenting on Psalm 19 and then on 2 Timothy 3:16, D. A. Carson laments that too often, our selective listening ironically applies to the Scriptures themselves:
Many people choose snippets and themes that soon constitute a grid for eliminating the rest [of Scripture]…Worst of all, Christians invest so little time and energy in learning what they claim to be the Word of God that it falls away by default.
The danger in contemporary evangelicalism is not formal rejection of Scripture, but an unrealistic assumption that we know the Bible while in fact we press “on” (in reality, slouch backwards) toward endless conferences on leadership, techniques, tools, gimmicks, agendas.
Becoming a Selective Listener by Knowing Scripture
Following from Carson’s thoughts, listening well to the full counsel of Scripture (Acts 20:27) grows wise listeners with the ability to select influences well. If you do not know where to begin, here are some thoughts I have collected while learning from others in my family, church, and Bible college/seminary on delving into further study of the fullness of Scripture:
1. Check your assumptions.
Begin your study of Scripture with an assumption that God is perfect and that, therefore, his holy words are always and absolutely best. If you come across a verse or concept that seems “off” to you, assume that your understanding can grow, rather than conjecturing a problem with God’s word choices or character.
2. Be a learner.
Go straight to the passages that are most challenging for you, and be prayerfully willing to engage in a learning process that humbly gleans from the wisdom of those who have already spent their lives in study. Everything changes when we become Christians—we are reborn into new people, and are given spiritual sight and hunger for God’s Word. Becoming Christians does not automatically make us experts on Christ and his Word, but propels us toward learning. So building Scriptural knowledge and wisdom is simply part of walking with Christ.
3. Look back to different times.
Do not be overwhelmed with the quick, current Christian publishing environment—thinking you need to keep pace. While having present-day books is important (especially for putting theology into today’s language and for responding to current theological challenges that were not historically encountered head-on), not to mention enjoyable, becoming separated from the theological problems of one’s own generation often best comes through historical works. Read classic, doctrinal resources—primary sources. Some ideas of authors are: Irenaeus, John Chrysostom, Augustine of Hippo, John Calvin, Jonathan Edwards, Charles Hodge, or Carl F. H. Henry.
4. Find a scholarly mentor.
If possible, search for a scholarly mentor who loves the gospel and is versed in the historic tradition of the Christian faith. Pursue this so that (1) you can ask questions about difficult areas of interpretation and viewpoints that differ from yours, and (2) you can be introduced to areas of thought outside of your context of which you would not have known to inquire.
But first, ask a potential mentor about his or her beliefs. Here are some ideas:
Does he or she convey the full gospel message including the unpopular aspects—like repentance, the reality of hell, God’s holiness and wrath, and the necessity of receiving it with the kind of grateful response that leads to growth in righteousness?
Can he or she affirm the Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy?
Is he or she committed to a literal, historical-grammatical hermeneutic?
Who are his or her theological influences, and similarly, what does this person believe about the gospel and Scripture?
Does he or she see the significance of describing differing viewpoints with accuracy?
If this kind of relationship is not available to you, “mentors” come in various forms; I have been shaped through pages of books, words of sermons, and lectures in the classroom or through recordings. Through these means, mentors can be numerous. For no scholar stands alone; faithful Christian scholars consider themselves part of a wider, conversing community—ideally seeking to challenge, correct, and steer each other collectively into the best possible exegesis. Much can be learned from listening in to these kinds of conversations through multiple sources.
Gladness in Growth
Transferring the plentiful information available to us into wisely-held knowledge almost invariably produces a keen awareness about how much one has yet to learn, and how little is already grasped. Do not take these thoughts as a reason for discouragement, but a cause for gladness that you have a concrete indication you are following those ahead of you.
Keep following; I will too.
This post was originally published at Unlocking the Bible.
Meditations on Dust
The godly are the God-ward—and faced there, they know they are not like what they see. They are not righteous in all their ways; they are not naturally near to the truth; not able to save, able to endure, able to abound in a perfection of goodness and greatness, able to act with self-generated and -sustained power, able to count stars beyond stars, able to reduce rulers to naught or view earth and all therein from on high, with a glance, and weigh it as a piece of dust, a sliver of grass—as nothing.
Turned to Him, how little I like to feel small—to accept small. But that the nations are dust cannot reflect poorly on the Creator, as if finitude were evil. From above, He once called all of this terrestrial ball “good.” If my view to creation were as to the dust, one floating, sailing speck, it would leave my sight as soon as it entered. I might absorb it with the swipe of a rag-holding hand, no misgivings. Who are we that He is mindful of us? This is the kind of mystery in Scripture most perplexing. He decided to love—to set His image upon—miniscule; an amebic sphere contained the incarnation… Yet, not only size is involved—that is not the offense—but small became evil, hateful, proud. Dust acted like it was something. No wonder He laughs (Psalm 2:4). What if my creation were dust? How great is His love for us!
Being small, unable to generate power or increase my own strength, I am weak, fainting, weary, utterly falling, etcetera—list proceeding. And so I wait. I must wait—God-ward. The renewal of His people will certainly come, whether presently or eschatologically—hope will actualize into mounting up, running, and the overall-not-fainting. And we will be saved. But the weak must wait; I must wait. Otherwise, I become a workman who molds an image and realizes a carved abomination. When the weak attempt to generate greatness, we can never alone find a tree unable to rot or a project that is incapable of falling. One breath—one laughing exhale—and He levels the accomplishments of man. I am weak; so, if He does not act—does not heal, does not increase strength, does not give the insight, or the muscles or the words or the voice or the whatever it is I am wanting, I must be the waiting.
Lifted from the finite—waiting toward God sets me at the Word, breathed by inerrant breath. It is standing. And it will forever be—this book that the world contrives is infected with fantasies and tainted [instead of made holy] by hatred. It prevails—this book that I would doubt and despise in spiritual blindness if not for His Spirit. How great His grace! His Word stands; the blade of grass will soon not. What can man say against God’s flawless revelation? Nothing; he can sit beneath, remembering who still measures as you know what on the scales.
Only knowing I am nothing can I see that He upholds my spirit when I fall—preserving me to the end; only when bowed can I see how and in what manner I am raised up to know Him; only when I am hungry can I receive His timely food; only in want can I know the wonder of His Word. I want to be infinitely low,[1] and know His unfathomable grace; my voice to cry for help, and know His kind deliverance; my eyes to look upon Him with love, and see some of the unsearchable greatness and beyond-measure glory. He, He, He—the cause of all being held together, sustained every day. He—righteous in all His ways, gracious in all His words, full of compassion, slow to anger and great in mercy—He is good to all. What is the strength of my soul? His nearness, that I might receive all I can of who He is and what He gives, worshiping Him for both, for always.
Three words emerge from the dust—wait, Word, and worship. Being one who is nothing before God, I must wait for Him—for His strength in my inner spirit, resting within the hiding place of His peace during temptations, while He unveils one next detail of His mind for me and mine. And before His Word—I receive there—the bread, the high, heavenly bread raining here, as upon the grass for prime collection. And in worship, whatever is done, accomplished, and gained—God alone is great. With that, dust contents itself as such and can move along glorying in God being God—and is now being swept up for all existence in Him.
I believe Jonathan Edwards used this phrase, although I cannot now locate the quotation.
This post was originally published at For The Church.
8 Words for Worshipful Meditation
The voice of the dinner host resounds throughout the dining room and kitchen, “Alright, the food is ready, friends! First, grab your silverware, plates, and napkins here, and then start going along this side of the table to get your food. Don’t forget, drinks are on the far counter—we have ice water, lemonade, and coffee.”
For guests to follow instructions from their host about the meal he or she has prepared and provided is honoring to do. Similarly, as we hear what God’s Word teaches about itself, we are guided through the “meal” of meditation.
Eight Words for Worshipful Meditation
Meditation has been defined as follows:
Act of calling to mind some supposition, pondering upon it, and correlating it to one’s own life. A wicked individual meditates upon violence (Prov. 24:2). The meditation of a righteous person contemplates God or His great spiritual truths (Pss. 63:6; 77:12; 119:15, 23, 27, 48, 78, 97, 148; 143:5). He hopes to please God by meditation (Ps. 19:14). Thus meditation by God’s people is a reverent act of worship.[1]
To remember the ways God has said his Word is profitable toward our souls while we contemplate it in meditation is honoring to him and worshipful. As one way to help in this pursuit, below are 8 words taken from Psalm 19 and 2 Timothy 3:16 that God speaks concerning Scripture. Provided as well are some explanations about these words, followed by questions to guide us as we ponder and then correlate to life the principles and teachings we have studied throughout the Bible.
Reviving (Psalm 19:7a)
Matthew Henry writes that Scripture “is of use to convert the soul, to bring us back to ourselves, to our God, to our duty.” Scripture makes us turn to the Lord, it plunges his life-giving ways into more of the depths of our hearts.
How does this passage awaken my soul to the Lord and things eternal, and deaden me toward the world?
Making Wise (Psalm 19:7b)
Henry writes, “It will give us an insight into things divine and a foresight of things to come. It will employ us in the best work and secure to us our true interests.” Scripture causes us to see life in light of the greatness of God, helping us live with increasing temperance and diligence.
In light of this passage, how am I challenged to live, act, and make decisions in a more godly way?
Rejoicing (Psalm 19:8a)
Henry writes, “The law, as we see it in the hands of Christ, gives cause for joy; and, when it is written in our hearts, it lays a foundation for everlasting joy, by restoring us to our right mind.” Scripture gives joy to our lives; the person who knows and follows what is right and true is spared from great misery.
What teachings, provisions, and promises in this passage bring joy to my life as I align with them and know my God better?
Enlightening (Psalm 19:8b)
Henry writes, “It brings us to a sight and sense of our sin and misery, and directs us in the way of duty.” Scripture gives us new understandings — it challenges our minds to see everything by holy light that glories in God.
What can I learn from this passage that I did not previously know—how does it change the way I think about what is true, valuable, etc.?
Teaching (2 Timothy 3:16)
John Calvin writes, “[Instruction] ranks above all the rest; for it will be to no purpose that you exhort or reprove, if you have not previously instructed.” Also, Matthew Henry refers to “teachings” as “doctrine.” Scripture instructs us, giving us information about God, our world, and ourselves that we simply could not otherwise know.
How does this passage help me understand God, his acts in this world, and his will for people?
Reproving and Correcting (2 Timothy 3:16)
Calvin writes, “Reproof and correction differ little from each other, except that the latter proceeds from the former; for the beginning of repentance is the knowledge of our sinfulness, and a conviction of the judgment of God.” Scripture confronts the sin and untruth in us; it stands contra evil and provides clarity about how to change.
How am I convicted as I read this passage? How do my ways not measure up to the holiness of God, and how can I be corrected?
Training (2 Timothy 3:16)
Calvin writes, “Instruction in righteousness means the rule of a good and holy life.” Scripture fills our lives with the abundant peace of living according to the everlasting ways of God.
According to this passage, in what ways can my life be filled with the righteousness God loves because I love him?
As we meditate upon God’s holy Word as he has intended, he teaches us to pray from our hearts, “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer” (Psalm 19:14).
1. LeBron Matthews, “Meditation,” in Chad Brand, Charles Draper, Archie England, Steve Bond, E. Ray Clendenen, Trent C. Butler, and Bill Latta, eds. Holman Illustrated Bible Dictionary. (Nashville, TN: Holman Bible Publishers, 2003)
Women Wonderfully Different and So Very Similar
To my sisters in Christ —
Anna, the daughter of Phanuel, was a Christ-exalting woman in Scripture. She was a prophetess who knew Scripture, and sat at the temple, worshipping, fasting, and praying constantly. She was there when the Son of God arrived for His dedication, and she recognized her Redeemer, giving thanks for Him. She proclaimed the news of His coming with adoration to all who were waiting (see Luke 2:36-38).
Deborah, who was sought-after for her wise judgments, was a prophetess, military leader, and worshipper of Yahweh who led Israel into a period of rest for forty years. According to the theme of the book of Judges, Israel had success as they feared the Lord; Deborah faithfully led them into that success, fear of the Lord, and peace (see Judges 4-5).
Huldah was a prophetess during the reign of Josiah when the Book of the Law of God was rediscovered. She prophesied that God would bring disaster upon Israel for forsaking Him, and yet, that because the book of the law was found and heard with penitence, God would not bring this disaster within their lifetimes. She promoted and gave dynamic impetus to the spiritual revival of Israel during the kingship of Josiah with her truthful words (see 2 Kings 22-23).
Priscilla helped to instruct a new believer, Apollos, in the way of God more accurately. The Apostle Paul was one of her and her husband’s houseguests (see Acts 18:2-3; 24-26). Paul pointedly commended them for making personal sacrifices for the apostle as fellow servants of the Lord (see Romans 16:3-5).
Tabitha, a disciple in the early church, was full, or overflowing like a stream, of good works of mercy or charity in benevolence toward others—including making clothing. She was also given the honor by Peter of being raised from the dead to demonstrate the great power of God; many believed at this sign of the apostle to the authenticity of Christ (see Acts 9:36).
Anna was devoted, ready to recognize and proclaim her Redeemer when He arrived. Deborah was a sought-after woman of wisdom whose leadership of Israel ushered them into a time of peace and fear of God. Huldah inspired and promoted Israel’s return to the good law of God and to favor in His eyes. Priscilla was hospitable, self-sacrificial, and well-versed in Scriptural theology such that she could help teach the ways of God to a fellow brother. Tabitha was devoted to charitable works of service—they overflowed from her heart.
Each woman belonged to God as His child, under His Fatherly provision and direction (Matthew 7:11; Hebrews 12:3-11), devoted to Him and His righteous Word in the circumstances God brought. Each of their godly actions flowed from the Lord, each person beautiful in their own ways of reflecting Him while serving those around them—all together being used by God in His Word to teach us the truth. Yet, each one had markedly different circumstances, gifts, and roles in life.
It seems to me that you and I are also different in the same way Scripture’s women of history were different. Yet, we are also the same: we are children of the same Father who rely upon His Word for how to live, believe, worship, and serve, with the God-given honor of together representing Him in the pieces of His plan for this world we cherish as gifts and call our lives.
As women, we may be in various seasons, circumstances, and roles, and we may bring different gifts to what we commonly share. Yet, Anna’s delight was discovered in Scripture and fulfilled in Christ, Deborah’s wisdom and victory were attributed to her God, Huldah’s prophecy came from Him, Priscilla depended upon the ways of God in order to teach them and follow them, and Tabitha’s heart overflowed because she was a disciple of Christ. The beauty of each one’s service flowed from a humble love for the truth.
They were wonderfully different, while so very similar—like us.
This post was originally published at For The Church.
9 Spurgeon Quotes on Fear and Faith
According to Charles Spurgeon (here and here), Psalm 56:3—“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you”—holds a tension and, yet, a resolve that is uniquely characteristic of the Christian’s experience of fear.
1. Spurgeon gives voice to inner complexities.
Notice, first, then, that here is David in a complex condition. He says, “I am afraid,” yet with the same breath he says, “I will trust in You.” Is not this a contradiction? It looks like a paradox. Paradox itmay be, but contradiction it is not!
2. He illustrates that intellectual qualms need not be viewed as displacing of faith.
You have seen a precious promise or a glorious Doctrine and you have believed it because you have found it in God’s Word. You have believed it so as to grasp it and feel it tobe your own, yet, perhaps, almost at the same time certain rationalistic thoughts have come into your mind and you have been vexed with doubts as to whether the promise is true. You remember, perhaps, the insinuations of others,or something risesup out of your own carnal reason that renders it difficult for you to believe, while at the same time you are believing! You battle with yourself—one selfseemsto say, “Is it so?” and yet your inner self seemsto say, “I could die for it, I know it is so!”
3. He teaches that there is courage in being honest about fears.
David says, “I am afraid.” Admire his honesty in making this confession. Some men would never have admitted that they were afraid. They would have blustered and said they cared for nothing! Generallythere is no greater coward in this world than the man who never will acknowledge that he is afraid.
4. He reminds that even when faith can stand to grow in those times of life when death seems impending, faith one can still have. And greater truths also abound.
But if, as a rule, you and I can think of death without any kind of fear, if no tremor ever crosses our minds, well then, we must have marvelously strong faith, and I can only pray we may be retained in that strength of faith! For the most partthere is such a thing as terror in prospectof death—the fear is often greater in prospect than in reality! In fact, it is always so in the case of the Christian.
[…]
And so the fear and the faith shall go on hand in hand together for a while, till at last perfect love shall come in and take the place of fear—and then faith and love shall go hand in hand to Heaven!
5. In noting the despondency of going anywhere but to God, and that being one’s end, he promotes gratitude for grace.
It is a sure sign of Grace when a man can trust in his God, for the natural man, when afraid, falls back on some human trust, or he thinks that he will be able to laugh at the occasion of fear. He gives himself up to jollity and forgetful-ness, or perhaps he braces himself up with a natural resolution—"To take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them." He goes anywhere but to his God.
6. He puts on display the illogical nature of natural human impulses.
You say, "I feel so dead and cold, I have not the spiritual vivacity and warmth and life that I used to possess. I used to come up to the Tabernacle and feel such joy and rejoicing in worshipping on God's Holy Day, but now I feel flat and dull." Oh, but do not be tempted to get away from Christ because of this! Who runs away from the fire because he is cold? Who, in summer, runs away from the cooling brook because he is hot? Should not my deadness be the reason why I should come to Jesus Christ?
7. He teaches that when lamenting over a life that has created, of oneself, nothing that pleases God, but only the opposite—to then rejoice, for grace is true.
When I can see marks of Grace in myself, to trust Christ is easy—but when I see no marks of anything good, but every mark of everything that is evil and then comeand cast myself upon Him and believethat He can save me, even me, and rest myself upon Him—this is the faith which honors Christ and which will save us! May you have it and such time as you are afraid of sin, may you trust in Christ!
8. He is honest and serves as an example of how to respond inthe starkest realizations unworthiness.
I dare to say these ancient words [of Psalm 56:3] tonight from the depths of my soul! I am afraid of my sins! I am afraid of my unworthiness! I never live a day but what I see reason to be afraid! If I had to stand all by myself, I would be afraid to stand before God! If I had never done anything in my life but preach this one sermon, there have been so many imperfections and faults in it that I am afraid to place any reliance upon it! But my Lord Jesus, You are my soul's only hope. I trust entirely in You!
9. Best of all, he takes Christ at his word.
A Christian has no right to be always saying—"Do I love the Lord or no? Am I His, or am I not?" He may be compelled to say it, sometimes, but it is far better for him to come just as he is and throw himself at the foot of the Cross and say, "Savior, You have promised to save those that believe! I believe, therefore You have saved me!" I know some think this is presumption, but surely it is worse than presumption not to believe God! And it is true humility to take God at His word and to believe Him.
In the day of being afraid, Spurgeon teaches that Christian confidence is not in one’s inner state, intellectual reachings, adequacy of confession, absence of future experiences of fear, coping abilities (i.e. humor or human resolve), history of actions and inactions, or self-perception. With all of these in view—and the cause for fear growing when considering each one—“when I am afraid, I put my trust in you” (Ps. 56:3). A Christian’s confidence in fear is that God does exist as One who, of his own incomprehensible decision and grace, rewards those who seek him (Heb. 11:6).
70 Prompts for Adoring God
I worship you, my God, because of who you are:
Eternal, immortal, and invisible, you alone are God (Psalm 90:1-2; 1 Timothy 1:17; Isaiah 45:5).
You are Spirit (John 4:24).
You are living (Joshua 3:10).
You are one able to create ex nihilo, or out of nothing (Hebrews 11:3), in six days, and resting on the seventh (Genesis 1).
You are independent of all creation, and have life in and of yourself (John 5:24).
You are known to all (Romans 1:19-20).
As self-existent Yahweh, you are self-revealing to your people (Exodus 3:14-15).
You are omnipresent, or everywhere, always (Psalm 139:7-12).
You are omniscient, knowing everything (Proverbs 15:3).
You are omnipotent, or all-powerful (Matthew 19:26; Hebrews 1:3).
You are omnisapient, or all-wise (Romans 16:27).
You are sovereign (Ephesians 1:11, 20-21).
You are one God in three Persons (Matthew 28:19; 1 Corinthians 8:6).
Each Person of the Trinity is fully and equally God; in appearance and outworking, the Father begets the Son (John 1:18), and the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son (John 14:26; 16:7).
Jesus Christ was preexistent before the incarnation (John 6:38; John 17:5).
Jesus Christ humbled himself (Philippians 2:5-7).
Jesus Christ became incarnate in the flesh (John 1:14), conceived by the Holy Spirit without a human father and born from a virgin (Matthew 1:18).
Jesus Christ, with a human nature, experienced the weakness and growth that are a part of the human experience (Mark 2:15; 14:33; 15:34; Luke 2:40; 7:9).
Jesus Christ was tempted and overcame (Luke 4:2); with a divine nature, he could not sin.
Jesus Christ is God—the image of the invisible God (Colossians 1:15) and the one of whom deity is claimed (Luke 1:43; John 1:1; Matthew 22:44; Hebrews 1:10-12).
Jesus Christ’s omnipotence is displayed through his miracles over nature (Matthew 8:26-27; Matthew 14:19; John 2:1-11).
Jesus Christ’s eternality is known through self-revealing statements (John 8:58; Revelation 22:13).
Jesus Christ’s omniscience is displayed through perceiving hidden thoughts (Mark 2:8; John 1:48), and in knowing all things as attested to by his disciples (John 16:30).
Jesus Christ is omnipresent, as seen in his claim to be with the disciples always (Matthew 28:20).
Jesus Christ is sovereign, as demonstrated in his authority to forgive sins (Mark 2:5-7).
Jesus Christ is worthy to be worshipped and adored (Philippians 2:9-11; Revelation 5:12).
Though not relinquishing any divine attributes, Jesus Christ gave up the outward appearance and radiance of his glory in order to complete the mission of the Father (Philippians 2:7), using his divine attributes only as necessary for his mission and ministry, out of submission to the Father.
Jesus Christ is one Person without separation, including two natures without confusion—human and divine—in hypostatic union (Hebrews 1:3).
The Person of the Holy Spirit has intellect, emotions, and will. With intelligence, he knows the things of God (1 Corinthians 2:10-11); with emotions he can be grieved (Ephesians 4:30), and according to his will, he distributes spiritual gifts (1 Corinthians 12:11).
The Holy Spirit is deity with omniscience (1 Corinthians 1:11-12), omnipresence (Psalm 139:7), and involvement in creation (Psalm 104:30); blasphemy against the Holy Spirit is blasphemy against God (Matthew 12:31-32).
Father, Son, and Spirit—one God—you are unity (Deuteronomy 6:4).
You are Elohim, sovereign and transcendent over all the earth (Deuteronomy 2:30; 33; 3:22).
As El-Shaddai, you are God Almighty, powerful and strong (Genesis 17:1).
As El Elyon, you are God Most High who reigns supreme (Genesis 21:33).
As El Olam, you are God Everlasting and changeless forever (Genesis 21:33).
As Yahweh Jireh, you are “The Lord Will Provide” (Genesis 22:14).
As Yahweh Nissi, you are “The Lord Our Banner,” the victorious (Exodus 17:15).
As Yahweh Shalom, you are “The Lord is Peace” (Judges 6:24).
As Yahweh Sabbaoth, you are “The Lord of Hosts,” the commander (1 Samuel 1:3).
As Yahweh Maccaddeshcem, you are “The Lord Thy Sanctifier” (Exodus 31:13).
As Yahweh Tsidkenu, you are “The Lord Our Righteousness” (Jeremiah 23:6).
The way you relate to your creation can be described by many images, like the image of Father (Matthew 6:26; 2 Corinthians 6:18; 1 John 3:1).
The image of Mother (Isaiah 66:13; Isaiah 49:15; Matthew 23:37; Luke 13:34).
The image of Husband (Isaiah 54:5; Hosea 2:19; Revelation 21:1-7).
The image of Friend (John 15:12-15).
The image of Shepherd (Psalm 23; John 10:11)
The image of Teacher (Psalm 32:8; Isaiah 48:17).
The image of Ruler (Psalm 103:19; 1 Timothy 6:15).
The image of Judge (Isaiah 33:22; 2 Timothy 4:8).
The image of Deliverer (Exodus 6:6; Matthew 1:21).
And the image of Justifier (Romans 3:26).
You are a preserver of all you have made (Nehemiah 9:6; Colossians 1:17).
You are one who gives decrees that are all-encompassing, or inclusive of all creation (Ephesians 1:11).
Your decrees are for your own glory (Psalm 19:1), and they are based upon your sovereign contentment (Daniel 4:35).
Your decrees are best because they are based upon your infinite wisdom (Psalm 147:5; Psalm 104:24).
You are morally pure and set apart (Leviticus 11:44-45).
You are holy (Revelation 4:8).
You hate sin and are angered by it (Joshua 7:1).
You are perfectly wrathful (Romans 1:18; Nahum 1:2).
You are compassionate (Psalm 103:13-14).
You are patient (Romans 2:4).
You are love (1 John 4:8, 16).
You are good (Psalm 25:8).
You are just (Genesis 18:25).
You are righteous and gracious (Psalm 145:17).
You are rich in mercy (Ephesians 2:4).
You are immanent, near and active (Jeremiah 23:23-24; Acts 17:27-28).
You are immutable, or unchangeable (Hebrews 13:8; James 1:17).
You are true (Isaiah 65:16).
You are the blessed and only King of kings and Lord of lords (1 Timothy 6:15).
Help me to know you, to love you for who you are, and to value what you value, my God.
Amen.
This post was originally published at Unlocking the Bible.
A Well Lived Life
When the sun turned down for the day and golden light peaked through the edges of my living room blinds throwing glistening shadows onto dim walls, my eyes assumed the same golden gleam with thoughts of recent hours. The sun grew over walls and furniture—and all the swells of the day—for the hour or so of light’s gold: the dining room table where a candle earlier sped and smoked, the distant corner of the kitchen where orange slices were held and bites were taken alongside grins and chats, and the stairs that withheld against pounded motions of every happening, whether languid and clomping or running late with clipping.
My lips met spiced tea and my mind swelled over those waves of the day, freeing the memories that active minutes compress—enumerating the menagerie of surges and stages. Finally, the thought came as the sun yielded to the downward pull and the last spark was gone before night’s scroll was unrolled—Was this one well lived?
The last light fell, and I had all appreciation for that unique sunset slice of the day—it was like the lightning that flares when a person of mystery speaks revealingly and the rarity only adds to gratitude and wonder, leaving a trace of want for when it will happen again. So, a sunset does not grace the every minute, and with the last light, today’s provoked, Can you be content to mirror many other days after today’s strains?
Now, if one can enter near, a late octo- or nonagenarian might musingly review not a day of life for Christ, but a life. The gray hair of the godly, that crown of splendor and honor (Prov. 16:13), affords its own glow for watching eyes—perhaps the brightest and fiercest sparks of belief and holy desire. Chair close, one hears of minds that have worked and worked, and of hearts’ resolve, and eternity’s splendor in sight from earliest days. One might hear of children and family, and friendships and ministry while witnessing the effects of prayer’s secret dependency. One will certainly hear of Christ, as the godly gray are naturally nearest, anticipatorily, to see His face in all of glory’s bright.
In these, my elders, I’ve seen steps of resolve, commitment to the path that is straight. Steps that haven’t veered back and away or circled, as with a loose, stray connection—but have traveled steadily, with a resolve that started from the dedication of earliest teenage days (Ecclesiastes 12:1). I’ve heard of consistency in studying, of adeptness with mastering one day’s portion of Scripture at a time to accumulate wealth, a considerable responsibility—without having been shirked or shunned, but received as weighty and worthy duty (Prov. 1:7, 2:2; 2 Tim. 2:15). I’ve noticed the freedom and joy, and sole honor for Christ, in the gray-haired whose finances have long reflected the weight of eternity and Scripture’s guiding hand, for whom money has not directed decisions of value, for the path to heaven is highest (Matt. 6:19, 23).
Pure sparks have graced my sight of love for family, care for husbands and wives while in view of a marriage-honoring God (Heb. 13:4), and for the ministry that began in one’s home—how instruction and love of children has not been seen as secondary but as prized with piles of devoted time (Deut. 6:5-9). With the family of God, I’ve seen the peace of relationships that are deemed successes if giving has been sacrificial—where mutuality has been warmly welcomed, but personal fulfillment has not been given the status of being the aim or goal (Phil. 2:3). I have beheld how the deposit of truth has been regarded—the fountain for unity (2 Tim. 1:14; Rom. 16:17-20) and how speaking its core message of the King has served as compassion for those in the dark (Rom. 10:14).
Gazed fixed, I have gleaned themes of wisdom, that when tutors have been sought for the school of saintly life, selectivity and standards have been welcomed by all. For good mentors have been careful to bow and exegete well the holy Word—pointing to those who have been advanced in maturity and dedication—with thoughtfulness to approve by Scripture every influence, faithfully, no matter the cost (1 Cor. 11:1; Phil. 1:9-10). Now, when I hunt for their lives of prayer, I scarcely collect in my sight all that’s certainly there—for they are faithful to the Lord’s instruction, to maintain reverent secrecy (Matt. 6:5-6). Yet, in their lives’ humility and given trust, evidence abounds of those who have long ago settled that they can do nothing, would never want to do anything, apart from Him (John 15:5; Phil. 4:11-13).
I’ve traced my hand over a life’s day to follow the sparkling-sun-movement, a sun still graciously lasting by God’s hand to have come this evening after visiting lives of all ages. And as golden hours will double and triple and more in my experience, Lord willing, tomorrow and the next day again, I will have less and less propensity for youthful doubtfulness in the truth that my days are short—just as He has said (Jas. 4:14). My home will travel through sunset again; while I sip that tea and steep in the swells, the lightning spark of want noted in my day-end light—my question—is now seated in Scripture’s witness to imitate those whose whole lives have already been well lived for Him (Heb. 13:7; 2 Thess. 3:9; 1 Cor. 4:16).
This post was originally published at For The Church.