Live As People Who Are Free

March 5, 2023

Series: First Peter

Text: 1 Peter 2:13-25

I take today’s title from v. 16, “Live as People Who Are Free.” This may seem strange when the theme of this passage is submission to authority– what many might see as the exact opposite of freedom. 

Bucking authority has been a mark of sin in the human heart throughout human history. Sin perverts reality; it makes us call good evil and evil good. Sin casts good submission as evil suppression, good subjection as wicked subjugation. But according to Peter and the rest of Scripture, submission is actually the way of freedom. Only God’s Spirit can undo Adam and Eve’s original sin of doubting the goodness of God’s authority in our hearts. Only faith in Jesus can renew our trust in God’s good authority and make us willing to submit to it. 

But our biggest struggle as Christians may be in believing that submission to other authorities is also part of the path of Christian freedom.

In this text, Peter does two things: 1) he sets the expectation of submission, and 2) he holds forth the example of submission. Peter helps these exiled believers persevere amid hardships in the peace of Christ by reminding them that success in the mission of Christ on earth is impossible without our submission as followers of Christ. And that’s today’s BIG Idea: Our success in the mission of Christ depends on submission as followers of Christ. I’m not saying God’s global gospel mission depends on us. I’m saying for us to reap maximal joy in being part of Christ’s mission—the multiplied grace and peace Peter invokes in his greeting—we must embrace submission. Notice also that I say ‘submission as followers of Christ,’ not ‘submission ‘to Christ.’ Submission to Christ should be a given for Jesus’ disciples. But Christian submission is broader than just verbally acknowledging Jesus as Lord. Submission to Jesus doesn’t exempt us from obeying parents, employers, teachers, speed limits, or tax laws. Submitting to Jesus entails all kinds of submission across the whole spectrum of our lives. 

The Expectation of Submission

Let’s start with the expectation of submission. Peter says in v. 13, “Be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution…” There are lots of human institutions: public, private, academic, military, financial, medical, religious institutions—institutions of all shapes and sizes, all intended to promote some aspect or notion of human good. Are they all equally effective in that aim or equally well-founded upon good and true principles? No. Is every human institution equally fundamental to the well-ordering of human society? No. So when Peter says, “Be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution,” what does he mean? The rest of v. 13 and v. 14 give some focus: “whether it be to the emperor as supreme, or to governors as sent by him to punish those who do evil and to praise those who do good.” Peter calls for submission to governing authorities, the very authorities that persecuted Christians by scattering them away from Jerusalem, treating them as a dangerous religious sect bent on overthrowing Rome. 

Many secular authorities in our day want Christian influence driven out of institutions to the margins where they assumed it will be less potent, less threatening, and eventually die out altogether. Of course the irony is that the institutions today’s radical secularists want to purge of Christian influence owe their existence to two millennia of Christian influence in western civilization. 

They wouldn’t have called it “Christian influence” yet the governing powers of Peter’s day and earlier owed their institution to God as well. Neither Caesar nor Alexander before him, nor Artaxerxes before him, nor Nebuchadnezzar before him, nor Pharaoh before him—no king or government would have had any power had God not baked into creation and bestowed it after the fall as humanity multiplied. Remember Jesus’ reply when the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, asks him in John 19, “What do you have to say for yourself; don’t you know I have power to release you and power to crucify you?” He tells Pilate, “You would have no power over me at all unless it had been given you from above.”

Peter, like you and I, knew all too well that emperors and governors didn’t always get good and evil right, and in fact often punished those who did good and praised those who did evil. So what’s his point? He says in v. 15, “For this is the will of God, that by doing good you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish people.” Who’s he talking about? Anyone looking to label Christians as “subversives” and the church as Caesar’s rival. We saw this last week in v. 12: “Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation. By doing the good of being subject to governing authorities “for the Lord’s sake” (don’t miss that phrase!)—even those that punish good and praise evil—we expose the falsehood and foolishness of such accusers. By submitting to human institutions we show the world that we’re not weak but rather waiting! We show we’re not intimidated by hostile earthly authorities because we wait submissively for the King to whom all kings will all one day answer.

Things within our culture and governing institutions may not be trending the way we’d like. That’s not a threat to us! Autocratic and totalitarian regimes around the world aren’t a threat to us! The erosion of constitutional rights or religious freedoms in our country is not a threat to our faith. Earth-based ‘freedoms’ may actually be the greater threat. We call America ‘the land of the free.’ The people around us each day may look free because they do and pursue what they want, but trust me, we’re surrounded by people in bondage to the idols earthly freedom affords: idols of pleasure, idols of prosperity, idols of popularity. 

Peter says in v. 16 to “Live as people who are free (really free!), not using our freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God.” Did you catch that? We live as people who are really free ONLY when we live rightly bound, rightly submitted to God as servants. And our good and gracious God enables us to submit humbly, honorably, and patiently to sin-troubled human institutions for the time being. 

Peter states the expectation of proper Christian submission in four directives in v. 17. First of all, “Honor everyone.” Is everyone worthy of honor? Based on character, no. Based on creation in God’s image, yes, everyone deserves honor. But “honor everyone” might look different for a courageous soldier than for a convicted killer. We’re to honor both as image-bearers, just in different ways.

What about “Love the brotherhood”? Let’s face it, not all Christians are equally easy to love. Doesn’t matter. Loving harder-to- love Christians is a mark of submission that silences the ignorance of foolish worldly people. Does it mean we don’t have to love non- Christians? Certainly not. But loving the brotherhood means going out of our way to love other believers. Paul says in Gal. 6:10, “So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith.” Would your high esteem for a coworker’s professional ability remain high if you saw them mistreat their spouse or kids? If we smile and act nice towards non-believers but demean our church or other Christians, they won’t want our faith! 

What about “Fear God”? Well, if there’s a catch-all command in v. 17, this is it. And it’s so perfectly placed too! Peter says honor everyone and love the brotherhood as if we should know instinctively to do so. Then he says “Fear God” almost like an exclamation point. But it’s also a reality-check and a priority-check for what’s coming last: “Honor the emperor.”

For a first-century Jewish Christian, this is tough to hear! You’re at the bottom of the Roman social barrel and (even though they didn’t have guns then) in a manner of speaking, you’re also at the end of the Roman political barrel. Who’s at the top of Roman society? Caesar. Who’s at the trigger of Roman politics? Caesar. And yet here you are, professing faithful allegiance to a different King and worshiping a different God…and oh yes, Caesar was considered both a king and a god and thus worthy of both allegiance and worship. And now Peter, one of Jesus’ inner circle and a hero of the faith, is telling you to honor the emperor?!?!?

A couple of centuries after this letter was written, Christianity would no longer be on the fringe of Roman society and power, but would be very central to it. Some say that perhaps a few centuries from now—if the Lord tarries that long in returning— Christianity will again find itself on the fringe of western society. Some would say we’re there now. Our job is not to decide how “in” or “out” we are as Christians to our surrounding culture. Our job is to make disciples for King Jesus until he returns. And part of how we do that is by meeting the expectation of being subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution whether benevolent or belligerent towards our faith. When we meet the expectation of submission, we mimic our Example of submission. So let’s consider our Example in vv. 18-25.

The Example of Submission

Peter says in vv. 18-20: 

“Servants, be subject to your masters with all respect, not only to the good and the gentle but also to the unjust. For this is a gracious thing, when, mindful of God, one endures sorrows while suffering unjustly. For what credit is it if, when you sin and are beaten for it, you endure But if when you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God.”

Greek has a few Greek words for “servant.” Doulos means bond-servant and can be translated “slave.” Diakonos means table-waiter, or “deacon.” A third is oiketes which means household servant or domestic worker. This is the one Peter uses here, and I think it’s helpful in our context. A bond-servant was, well, bound; he or she was owned either for life or until a debt was paid. But a domestic servant was more like a standard employee or wage-earner in our day. 

We Americans have a pretty high-degree of occupational mobility. If we don’t like one job, we can find another; if our boss is a jerk, we can find another. But remember this: God instituted human employment, not your boss! Even Adam had a job before the fall; naming the animals, tending the garden, and exercising dominion over the earth through reproduction with Eve. His employer was God—the best boss ever! But sin messed up that and all subsequent work relationships. Now not all bosses are kind, not all workplaces are pleasant, and every job on earth has its share of frustrations.

According to Peter, part of meeting the expectation of submission is respecting our employers whether kind and appreciative or not, and being their very best employees. He’s not saying we should ignore unethical or illegal activities on the part of our employer; to do so would make us complicit. He’s saying ‘Don’t treat your job or your employer—even if they’re not great—like mere objects just there to meet your needs and make you happy.’ If we do that and just walk away willy-nilly from job to job, we become like the unjust employer, simply using people for selfish ends. But if we endure difficulty and respectfully give our best to our employer, we don’t just honor them, we honor the God who instituted work as a human good, we gain an audience for the gospel, and most importantly we follow our Example of submission!

Peter says in vv. 21-23: 

“For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps. He committed no sin,, neither was deceit found in his mouth. When he was reviled he did not revile in return; when he suffered he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly.”

When you entrust yourself to a not-great employer, you’re really entrusting yourself to God, and you’re living like Jesus who gave himself for the enrichment in every way of those who abused him. You may benefit when your employer receives the fruit of your respectful, dependable labor. But the greatest benefit from the relationship likely won’t be a pay raise or promotion for you; the greatest benefit may be what your employer receives from God through your Christ-like witness.

Peter goes to the picture of the suffering servant of Isaiah 53 in vv. 24-25: 

“He (Christ) himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed. For you were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.

What a glory to think that in following Jesus Christ, our Example of submission even to unjust authorities, our employers, our coworkers, even our public officials may be dumbfounded, brought to conviction and repentance through the gospel we proclaim by living submissively!

Perhaps you’re reading this because some Christian works for you and you see a respectfulness in them that you don’t see in others. Perhaps you’re a public official and you’ve been down on Christian influence in public life for a while, yet you know a Christian and you can’t deny that there’s something attractive about their life. I can assure you, what they want you to see most is not their character but Christ’s character at work in them. Jesus emptied himself and took on the form of a servant to save that worker, to save that citizen so that in all things they might show their full and ultimate allegiance to God. Will you give God your allegiance today? There’s no better king, no one better to serve. Submit to God. Trust in Jesus Christ and live as one who is free in him!

I would love to hear from you. Feel free to email me at averydarin@gmail.com.

He Himself Knew What He Would Do

March 6, 2022

John 6:1-21

Many here likely first heard about the two miracles in this passage in Sunday school or in a children’s Bible story book. Whether that’s the case or you just heard these stories for the first time as an adult, I want you to relish with child-like fascination the wonder of these two scenes. Jesus feeding the five-thousand and walking on water are quintessential miracles. The feeding of the 5,000 is the only miracle besides Jesus’ resurrection that appears in all four gospels, and Jesus walking on water shows up in Matthew, Mark, and John, but not in Luke.

Before I go on, let me make a disclaimer: I’m at a pastor—a Christian—who believes these to be actual historical events…they really happened! Many non-Christians and sadly even some who call themselves Christians dismiss the miracles of Scripture as mere mythology and those who take them as genuine historical events to be intellectually deficient at least, and more likely intellectually defective. But I say mere materialists and moral naturalists have more to explain than those of us who hold to the validity of miracles. Materialists, who say the universe is merely matter, must prove not only where it comes from but why matter matters. If we’re all just random molecules, can there be meaning in anything? Followed to its logical end, materialism leads to some pretty scary conclusions. Naturalists who deny miracles yet find some moral meaning in the stories of Scripture have it even tougher. For example, it’s one thing to explain why Jesus would tell the lame man in John 5 to sin no more—he’s a sinner; he’s immoral, like we all are. But then they have to go back and explain why Jesus healed him. You know how we don’t get to just disregard the laws that we don’t like? Well, we don’t get to simply disregard the parts of the Bible we don’t like or that make us uncomfortable. That’s not how a text works.

To me, the most trouble-free, logically tenable option is the supernaturalist view. This view sees the moral teachings of Scripture as necessary in a world under the curse of human sin, and explains miracles not as freak suspensions of natural laws but as glimpses of God’s power and the restored glorious nature of the world to come.  I interpret the miracles in our text supernaturally. In other words, while nature is real, there is something superior to nature, a higher power and order involved, and a higher world intended than can be merely experienced with our five fallen, earthly senses. And so, speaking of that higher power and higher intended world, here’s the BIG Idea in this part of John 6: Jesus resisted the seduction of earthly power in order to establish an eternal kingdom, and so must Christians.   

“Power corrupts…” (finish it for me) “and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” That’s true, isn’t it? At least the “power corrupts” part is. And yes, it’s typically true that the more power one has, the more it can lead to abuse. Some people get a taste for power and want more until it’s all they want and they’ll do anything to get more or keep what they have. The problem with the “absolute power corrupts absolutely” part of the saying is that there’s only ever been one human who possessed absolute power. It’s not Vladimir Putin with his six thousand nukes. It wasn’t Adolf Hitler, Ghengis Khan, Nebuchadnezzar, or any of the Pharaohs. The one human who actually had absolute power was also absolutely incorrupt and incorruptible. When we look at Jesus in the only biblically honest way—as the divine Son of God, the second Person of the Trinity, God incarnate—we have to ponder the larger purpose in his use of power, because it certainly didn’t result in the kind of worldly influence and dominance so deeply craved by the power hungry of the past and present. And we need to let this shape our notion of power.

In v. 1 John says, “After this Jesus went away to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which is the Sea of Tiberias.” This is after he heals the lame man and the Jews in Jerusalem confront him for claiming equality with God by calling God his Father. Jesus doesn’t avoid confrontations entirely, but he has strategic confrontations followed by strategic exits northward to Galilee or southward to Judea using the intermediate territory of Samaria. He can catch a breather and prepare for his next encounters here because he knows the Jews hate the Samaritans. But as his notoriety spreads it gets harder for Jesus to appear in public without drawing a crowd. As John says in v. 2, “A large crowd was following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing on the sick.” 

When the unexplainable starts happening, you take notice—even in the country with the highest miracle rate known to man. Israel had a well-documented history of divine intervention. But when it’s your neighbor, your friend, your sick child, or even yourself who receives a miraculous healing, word is going to spread like wildfire.

Church, have we lost sight of the greatest miracle of all: the turning of hearts from sin and selfishness to love and righteousness by the power of the gospel of Jesus Christ? If you’re familiar with the gospels you know that physical healings, miracle feedings, even resurrections would turn heads for a while, but in time those same crowds would turn away and no longer follow Jesus. Why was that? It’s the point of this sermon: Jesus resisted and refused the seduction of earthly power in order to establish an eternal kingdom. But people want that earthly power; they want to follow someone they think can give them what they want right now regardless of short-term compromises or long-term consequences. We’ll get back to this in a moment.

John says in vv. 3-4, “Jesus went up on the mountain, and there he sat down with his disciples. Now the Passover, the feast of the Jews, was at hand.” This is the second Passover mentioned in John. It was Passover in John 2 when Jesus cleansed the temple of the money changers, and now it’s Passover again, but this time Jesus isn’t in Jerusalem; he’s on a Galilean hillside. And who’s there with him besides the crowd? His disciples. “Lifting up his eyes, then,” John says in v. 5, “and seeing that a large crowd was coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, ‘Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?” This is the first of four statements John places directly on Jesus’ lips in these first 21 verses. And according to John, it’s a test, as he says in v. 6: “He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he would do.” Now, mind you, Jesus didn’t test Philip for his sake, He tested Philip for Philip’s sake so that Philip could see where his own heart was. Philip answers him in v. 7: “Two hundred denarii worth of bread would not be enough for each of them to get a little.” That’s probably just how you or I would’ve answered Jesus’ question: we would’ve looked at the cash we had on-hand and said “It’s nowhere near enough, Jesus.” In vv. 8-9, Andrew says to him, ‘There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?” I’m not going to speculate on the boy’s faith, or the faith of his mother in preparing a lunch for him. It’s sweet; it’s not a meaningless detail. But I don’t think the meaning of the detail is found in the boy or his willingness to give Jesus his lunch—we don’t know how willing he was. No the meaning is in Andrew’s interpretation of the boy and his lunch: This is all we can find, Jesus. It’s nowhere near enough—it’s useless!

I can’t speak for you, but plenty of times in my Christian life I’ve echoed Philip and Andrew: Lord, here’s what’s available; I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s going to be enough—I just don’t see how this can work. We don’t have enough money; we don’t have enough people or the right kind of people; we don’t have enough space, and what little we do have is just useless…  Matthew, Mark, and Luke each tell us that the disciples’ first impulse was to send the hungry crowd away to buy food in nearby villages. This should blow our minds! These guys have seen with their own eyes a man lame for 38 years healed; they’ve seen an official’s son healed; they’ve tasted wine that had once been water! At times in my Christian life I have been so convinced I had nothing to offer; my resources appeared so deficient or depleted that I simply wanted Jesus to send people away where they themselves or somebody else could meet their need. But this story reminds us that the only thing deficient or depleted in such an attitude is trust in Jesus. Our Lord still tests his disciples and still already knows what he’s going to do with what we consider useless. He’s still got his miracle worked out!

“Have the people sit down,” Jesus says in v. 10. Don’t send them away! Don’t send them to the towns hungry! Can’t you just hear Jesus’ shepherd heart in that statement? Can’t you just hear him cultivating his shepherd heart in the men who would in time be his undershepherds? It’s Passover time; it’s spring; there’s probably been some rain recently. Look at the scene John describes: “Now there was much grass in the place.” Makes me wonder: Did Jesus spend his quiet time that morning meditating on Psalm 23: “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures”? Put yourself on that grassy hillside while I read vv. 10-13 again: 

“So the men sat down, about five thousand in number. Jesus then took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated. So also the fish, as much as they wanted. And when they had eaten their fill, he told his disciples, ‘Gather up the leftover fragments, that nothing may be lost.’ So they gathered them up and filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves left by those who had eaten.”

These weren’t small baskets! The crowd was so full that the disciples each had their own take-home basket of leftovers as testimony to Jesus’ power. The crowd also had full bellies as testament to Jesus’ power. What’s the difference between a full basket and a full belly? One of them lasts longer, right? The crowd was filled. The disciples could be refilled many times over. The crowd interprets Jesus’ power in v. 14: “When the people saw the sign that he had done, they said, ‘This is indeed the Prophet who is to come into the world!” They’re excited, and you know what they’re right! This was indeed the great Prophet who was to come into the world—the Messiah. But we discover a flaw in their interpretation right away in v. 15, which connects the two miracles of this passage: “Perceiving then that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, Jesus withdrew again to the mountain by himself.” The crowd’s full bellies convince them this is the guy that can give us what we want right now. But Jesus doesn’t come to just give men what they want or need right now. He doesn’t exercise divine power just to fill bellies. He fills bellies to show that He can also forgive sin. He feeds stomachs to show that he can fill hearts with a love for God that echoes for eternity. He isn’t a king coming into the world to stay—coming into the world to drive out the Romans or the Russians or ravaging hunger or to give us temporal resources like a church building. He is the eternal King of glory here on an earthly rescue mission. The Christianity we show the world can be a Christianity concerned about peoples’ present needs—we’re not being Christlike if we don’t. But our Christianity must never fail to offer Christ as the answer to man’s deepest need: a new heart, salvation, restoration to God!

“When evening came,” John says in vv. 16-21, 

“his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were frightened. But he said to them, ‘It is I; do not be afraid.’ Then they were glad to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going.”

It’s possible there was more than one walking on water episode. There certainly was more than one stormy sea episode. Jesus is in the boat asleep in a storm and the disciples rebuke him for almost letting them die before he then calms the wind and waves. In this one Jesus is not in the boat initially and comes walking by. One important thing to keep in mind: Whether he starts across the sea in the boat with the disciples or comes to them in the middle of a stormy crisis walking on water, Jesus always finishes the journey in the boat with the disciples.

At times in our Christian lives we will, as it were, begin a particular journey without the comforting presence of Jesus right next to us. We know by faith he’s near. Faith also tells us he has a plan, but winds and waves can really put us to the test. At times we’ll face storms as a whole church. At times we’ll feel like we’re in the boat all alone. But here’s the thing: Jesus is using those circumstances to not only show us his power to provide present comfort here on earth but to point us to that distant eternal shore and to remind us he is with us the entire way. Even when Jesus wasn’t in the boat, he could see the disciples from the mountain. His eye and his heart never depart from his beloved as we read in Psalm 33. He had to resist the allure of being an earthly king in order to fulfill his true identity. He’s got power to comfort us now, but his power on earth is fully focused on securing our eternal future— which he does fully and finally on the cross and in his resurrection. 

Application

In closing let me make some practical application of how we—in imitating Jesus—can resist earthly power as we seek to establish His eternal kingdom. I draw these four applications from John’s four direct quotations of Jesus in v. 5, v. 10, v. 12, and v. 20.

1. Don’t look at your lack; look at your Lord! (v. 5)
2. Don’t send people away; show them hospitality! (v. 10)
3. Don’t forget the Lord’s redeeming mercy and provision in your own life! (v. 12)
4. Don’t fear what is under the Lord’s feet! (v. 20)

As you ponder each of those statements and its corresponding verse, take a moment to give yourself a grade. If you get a perfect score on any of these, try again. Be honest! Lastly, take some time to pray over Jesus’ words in this passage. How might the Lord want to grow you to be more like Him in your present circumstance(s)?

We Feel Sure of Better Things…

The early chapters of Hebrews present some hard-hitting truths. While the writer of this New Testament book is not necessarily seeking to frighten Christians, he’s certainly not trying to make them comfortable either!

In Hebrews 6:1 we’re summoned to “leave the elementary doctrine of Christ and go on to maturity…” The reason is simple: just as healthy babies don’t remain babies (nursing, eating baby food, filling diapers, etc.) for very long, neither should healthy disciples remain spiritual babies for very long. The writer is concerned that spiritual immaturity among those who’ve been professing believers for many years may be evidence of a deeper problem. As he’d said earlier (in 5:12), “Though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God,” perhaps their spiritual foundation was laid on shaky ground. Don’t get me wrong: Jesus is NOT shaky ground! But, motives for believing in Jesus such as desiring to fit in and getting out of hell, etc., if not undergirded by healthier and holier motives, will lead to Christians lingering and languishing in a state of spiritual infancy.

Fitting in. We all want to ‘fit in’ with certain people or groups; that’s natural. However, the Church is a group of people who are called “peculiar” (1 Peter 2:9) and whom Jesus says will be “hated” by the world because of our allegiance to Him (Matt. 10:22). In other words, becoming a Christian can never be solely about ‘fitting in’ with other Christians, as if the Church were just another social club offering one a sense of identity and purpose in the world. True identity and true purpose for Christians comes from alignment with Christ, the One we call “Lord,” not ultimately from affinity with the other flawed Christians around us. Yet we do need those flawed Christians. More on this in a minute!

Getting out of Hell.  Nobody in their right mind wants to go to hell once they grasp the reality of the Divine judgment their sin deserves. But Jesus is more than a ‘ticket to heaven’! Professing faith in Jesus merely to avoid eternal flames is a recipe for spiritual immaturity–it’s a shaky foundation for a life of faithfulness. Unless fear of hell is accompanied by a grateful and growing love for God and His grace to us in Christ, people will be relieved but not resolved–relieved of the specter of hell, but insufficiently resolved to keep growing in Christ-likeness themselves much less to keep offering Him as the only hope of eternal life to others. Once a person is on the life-boat, without love they’ll have zero gratitude to those who rescued them, and zero interest in extending help to those still drowning.

The writer of Hebrews has some concerns about the spiritual health and maturity of these believers, but he also has reason for hope. His first (and most important) reason for hope is the justice of God. “For God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love that you have shown for his name in serving the saints, as you still do” (Heb. 6:10). No biblical writer ever assumes that his immediate audience has everything figured out. This is exactly why God gives us Scripture! It’s why God moves Moses to write the Law; it’s why He moves David and other psalmists to compose instructive poetry and hymnody; it’s why He moves the prophets to decry sin, warn the Israelites of judgment, and call them to repentance. And it’s why God is moving the writer of Hebrews to push these early Christian believers towards greater and greater holiness and maturity. But the writer has another reason for hope. Not only does he believe that God will justly remember their acts of service, he also has hope that these believers will respond with increased zeal not only to his written commendation of prior service but to his exhortation to continued service of the saints as well: “And we desire each one of you to show the same earnestness to have the full assurance of hope until the end, so that you may not be sluggish, but imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises” (6:11-12).

The words of Hebrews are just as urgent for the church today as they were in the first century. We twenty-first century Christians don’t have it all figured out. We are immature in many aspects of faith. Our flesh can cause us to fear hell but falter when it comes to advancing our own holiness and sharing the love and hope of Christ with those still outside the faith. How do we avoid such fleshly pitfalls?

Earnestness.

What a great word!  Just listen to it; the first part of it sounds like a car starting and revving up: Ern, ern, ern… The Errr sound doesn’t start with the tongue, the lips, or the teeth. It comes from much deeper within; it has to be grunted out: Errr-nest!

Isn’t that what the Christian life is like? It’s starts and revs within as the Spirit-prompted groan of faith in Jesus and works its way out in changed attitudes and behaviors. It’s a gut race, not a quick sprint. Earnest is defined as “resulting from or showing sincere and intense conviction.” Often in our consumer culture, we look for technologies or techniques for making difficult things easier: power windows, smart phones, elevators—the list is endless. Earnestness is a rare quality in a society that values comfort and convenience, instant and immediate. We are earnest only, it seems, in making things easier for ourselves or in making ourselves more visible and admired by others. But earnestness, according to the writer of Hebrews, isn’t meant to result in accolades; it’s what gives Christians ‘full assurance and hope until the end’ (v. 11).

Earnestness isn’t a quick fix to spiritual immaturity, but it’s a sure fix if we stick with it. And we stick with things best in the Christian life when we stick with them together! All five times the writer uses the pronoun “you” in vv. 9-12 he uses it in the plural. Though he and his companions have individual Christians in mind (“And we desire each one of you…”, v. 11), he is not writing to one person but to a community of earnest ones. What kinds of things are we to be earnest in doing together? This post could get really long at this point! So Jesus’ great commandment should suffice. Earnestness entails sincerely and intensely  doing anything and everything included in loving the Lord our God with all our hearts and loving our neighbors as ourselves.

As you look at your own Christian life and the overall spiritual maturity of your church family, ask yourself: what part does earnestness play in this picture? “Am I/Are we content with comfort and ease in the church nursery of spiritual infancy, just crawling about waiting for our bottle while the grown-up Christians undertake the real business of ministry and mission?” Mature Christians: Are we content with this arrangement? Do we feel propped up by those who admire our maturity while caring little about earnestly moving our “baby” brothers and sisters out of the Christian cradle and into the fields of sowing and reaping for King Jesus?

May we not grow weary in doing good. May we, like Paul in Philippians 1:6, “be sure that he who began a good work in (us) will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ”! May God be pleased to give us full assurance of hope through fully earnest living as His ever-maturing sons and daughters in this world.

I Can Do Nothing On My Own: How Christ’s authority anchors the Christian life

February 27, 2022

John 5:19-47

As we turn our attention to God’s word this morning, let’s consider what that statement really means. Each Sunday we turn our attention to God’s word. We gather together, do our best to calm and collect ourselves. We sing, hear announcements, read a psalm, pray, and receive an offering, but the main course is God’s Word and coming under its authority as His very word. Attention implies authority. Think of a line of soldiers being called to “Atten-TION!” Why do they snap to attention? Because they recognize authority—a chain of command. 

In a normal week or day, all sorts of things vy for our attention. Sometimes we intend to give them our attention; sometimes circumstances demand our attention, but our minds can really only attend to one thing at a time. So when we gather to worship and attend to God’s word together, we are acknowledging and submitting ourselves to God’s authority. Don’t just come here for Bible advice: Well, I better go pick up a few nuggets of Bible wisdom for the week ahead… And don’t view this sacred time together as just a chance to get the Bible’s or the preacher’s angle on things: Well, I’ve got some big decisions coming up; maybe the Bible or pastor has a perspective I can factor in with all the other perspectives, angles, and opinions I’m getting so I can make the best decisions…  No! This is not a Sunday morning advice or angle session! There are newspaper columns, talk shows, and life coaches galore to give you that. When we gather under God’s word, we’re not looking for advice or a better angle; we are yielding to supreme authority.

The authority of Scripture is derived from and concentrated in the authority of its central figure: Jesus Christ! The authority of Jesus is the central issue in the latter part of John 5. You could say it’s the central issue of the gospel or even of all Scripture. It’s certainly the central issue of the great commission where, before Jesus commands the disciples to ‘go make more disciples, teaching them to obey all of His commands and baptizing them,’ he grounds that commission in what fact? As he says in Matt. 28:18, “All AUTHORITY in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore…” Jesus’ authority is certainly the core issue in his teaching ministry. What’s the comment the gospel writers so often report the crowds muttering in astonishment when Jesus teaches? “He’s teaching as one having authority...”  Jesus’ authority is also the issue in his healing ministry. It’s not only how but why he heals the lame man at the pool of Bethesda earlier in the chapter. It’s how he heals him because Jesus is the Author of life, thus all creation and creatures are subject to him. But authority is also why Jesus heals the man—and in particular on the Sabbath—which he knew would anger the Jewish religious leaders. By that authority Jesus says to the healed man in v. 14: “See you are well! Sin no more, that nothing worse may happen to you.” But it’s also the basis for what he then says to the Jews in v. 17: “My Father is working until now and I am working.” This turned their anger from a persecuting ‘Just stop it and shut up’ kind of anger to a murderous ‘This guy’s got to die!’ kind of anger, as John says in v. 18: “This was why the Jews were seeking all the more to kill him, because not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God.” Jesus cannot be equal with God and have less than God’s full authority!

So as we look at vv. 19-47, let’s do so with this BIG Idea in mind: There can be no new life in Christ apart from a full embrace of the authority of Christ. To say it another way: Receiving life in Christ entails receiving the Lordship of Christ.

John says in v. 19, “So Jesus said to them, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise.’” The ‘them’ to whom Jesus says this is the Jews seeking to kill him in v. 18; and Jesus purposefully takes his statement about his Father working in v. 17 even further. You know how when Elmer Fudd gets so mad at Bugs Bunny or Daffy Duck that he clinches his fists, puts his arms straight down, and a line of redness slowly rises from his hands all the way to his head? I don’t know if that red line could be seen rising on the faces of these Jews or if actual steam was visible spewing from their ears, but the more Jesus talks, the madder they get. Why? Again, they don’t like that he healed a guy and commanded him to “work” on the Sabbath by picking up the sickbed he laid on for 38 years; but what really riles them up is Jesus’ claim that the Father is working and that he’s working with his Father thus making himself equal with the Father. Equal in what way? Equal in authority! 

When an American ambassador delivers a message from the President to another government, that messenger is not the President but carries the authority of the President in delivering that message. Jesus is not just the appointed messenger of God the Father to mankind; he’s not just God the Father’s adored messenger to mankind; he’s God the Father’s fully-divine, fully authorized messenger to mankind. “For the Father loves the Son,” Jesus says in v. 20, “and shows him all that he himself is doing. And greater works than these will he show him, so that you may marvel.” God the Father acts and speaks through God the Son. And when the messenger is persecuted and hated, the Sender is persecuted and hated as well.

Think about your own life. Even the very best, kindest authorities in our lives can stir within us a sinful resistance if we don’t keep watch over our hearts. It flows out of our flesh’s desire to usurp authority—a desire awakened within the hearts of the first man and woman when tempted by the serpent to question God’s word. Being saved doesn’t mean this temptation goes away or that we’ll never succumb to it, but it does mean that by the Spirit’s power we can exercise self-control (one of the fruits of the Spirit) and choose to live in a submitted way towards others out of reverence for Jesus, the one to whose authority we owe ultimate submission. Jesus sets that perfect example for us by living in absolute submission to His Father as the Father’s fully authorized redemptive agent on the earth.

What effect does this have? John says in v. 21, “For as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whom he will.” This doesn’t mean that the Father raises some from the dead and the Son raises others. They aren’t divvying up the raising of the dead and life-giving duties. Please don’t sit there wondering Hmmm, was I raised from the dead and given new life by the Father or by the Son? What Jesus is saying is that every person the Father chooses to raise from the dead and grant new life, He is the agent who carries out that will.

Likewise, as vv. 22-24 state, 

“The Father judges no one, but has given all judgment to the Son, that all may honor the Son, just as they honor the Father. Whoever does not honor the Son does not honor the Father who sent him. Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life.”

Oh, please don’t miss Jesus’ wonderful echo of John 3:16 here: “Whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life.” To receive the gift is to accept the Giver as well! “The Father judges no one…” is not the Father divesting Himself of judging authority because He has better things to do; it’s the Father entrusting judging authority to the Son. The Father has such absolute confidence that the Son will judge mankind rightly—exactly as He would judge—that He bestows that authority upon the Son. Look at vv. 25-26: 

“Truly, truly, I say to you, an hour is coming, and is now here, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live. For as the Father has life in himself, so he has granted the Son also to have life in himself. And he (the Father) has given him (the Son) authority to execute judgment, because he is the Son of Man.” 

This is a crucial point. Recall how Jesus describes the Father to the woman at the well in Samaria in 4:24 (“God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth”). Well, Jesus is God too, but he’s God incarnate—he has a body, a human body! God the Father being purely and perfectly spiritual and thus invisible entrusts not only his life-giving authority but also his judging authority to God the Son who is purely and perfectly spiritual but also purely and perfectly embodied. In other words, we can see Jesus; we can relate to him. We can see his perfections and thus be accountable before the Holy and perfect invisible Father by seeing his holy and perfect visible Son. As the apostle Paul says in Colossians 1:15: “The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.”  

Think about our justice system. Who renders the verdict in criminal cases? It’s not the judge behind the bench–not exactly anyway–but the jury— “a jury of one’s peers.” That language comes from the Magna Carta in Old England and shows up in the 6th Amendment of our Constitution, but I contend it has its roots in the Incarnation. God the Father, the Judge of all the Universe, oversees His court of justice, but shares judgment with the Incarnate Son, our human (yet divine) “Peer.”

Jesus says in vv. 28-29, 

“Do not marvel at this (he knew the Jews were marveling—their clinched jaws may have literally dropped open by this point), for an hour is coming when all who are in the tombs will hear his voice and come out, those who have done good to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment.”

In this paragraph Jesus speaks of two “hours” (v. 25 & v. 28). In v. 25 he says that “an hour is now here when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God…and will live.”  He doesn’t say “is now here” of the hour in v. 28. That hour hasn’t come yet—but it’s coming! The ‘hour’ that’s here in v. 25 is the hour of gospel proclamation—it’s the Church’s hour to go in the authority of Jesus and announce salvation in Jesus’ name that those to whom the Father and Son have granted life may believe and receive eternal life. The ‘hour’ in v. 28 is the hour of final resurrection and judgment; it’s the hour when every soul will stand either righteous or condemned before God. Yes, our works whether good or evil will be considered in that hour, but the “good” that gains a resurrection to life and the “evil” that gains resurrection to judgment is the good of receiving Christ as Lord or the evil of rejecting him as Lord. 

In the final paragraph of the chapter (vv. 30-47) Jesus chases out this theme of delegated judging authority. “I can do nothing on my own,” he says in v. 30. “As I hear, I judge, and my judgment is just, because I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me.” But he says in v. 31, “If I alone bear witness about myself, my testimony is not true.” He knows there is strength in a plurality of witnesses, so he brings in other corroborating voices. He obviously has the Father in view, but since the Father is invisible, he knows that won’t satisfy the Jews (and he knows how angry it makes them when he makes himself equal with the Father), so he brings up John the Baptist: 

“There is another who bears witness about me, and I know that the testimony that he bears about me is true. You sent to John, and he has borne witness to the truth. Not that the testimony that I receive is from man, but I say these things so that you may be saved. He was a burning and shining lamp, and you were willing to rejoice for a while in his light. But the testimony that I have is greater than that of John.”

And what is that greater testimony than John’s? 

“For the works that the Father has given me to accomplish, the very works that I am doing, bear witness about me that the Father has sent me. And the Father who sent me has himself borne witness about me. His voice you have never heard, his form you have never seen, and you do not have his word abiding in you, for you do not believe the one whom he has sent.” 

How were the Jews to know that the invisible Father was really affirming Jesus as his redeeming authority? His miracles! By virtue of the fact that a man lame for 38 years was now healed and whole by some invisible power! That man did not become whole by their adherence to Scripture, or their insistence that everyone live in to-the-letter like they did. “You search the Scriptures,” Jesus says in v. 39, “because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life.” They saw John the Baptist, but they didn’t see the Christ he proclaimed. They searched the Scriptures, but they couldn’t see the Christ they proclaimed. They can see the lame man healed before them, but (what’s the key word Jesus uses?) they “refuse” to come to Christ in faith that they may have life.

Jesus says in v. 41, “I do not receive glory from people.” He’s not after their affection; he’s not here to be adored by people but to save people. Jesus is not short on adoration. He is on earth to please and be glorified by One Person: his Father. Nevertheless, he condemns them in v. 42, “But I know that you do not have the love of God within you.” The world is awash in mutual self-exaltation. Jesus says in v. 43, “I have come in my Father’s name, and you do not receive me. (He didn’t come on his own credentials). If another comes in his own name, you will receive him. How can you believe, when you receive glory from one another and do not seek the glory that comes from the only God?” Remember, that’s where Jesus seeks his glory. And as the perfect human, He shows us that’s where we ought to seek our glory too, not from one another. “Do not think that I will accuse you to the Father. There is one who accuses you: Moses, on whom you have set your hope. For if you believed Moses, you would believe me; for he wrote of me. But if you do not believe his writings, how will you believe my words?” 

So the very one (Moses) who wrote the law, who spelled out the rules for a righteous life, Jesus says will in fact be the basis of their condemnation. Why? Because Moses didn’t just write rules. He wrote a story of God redeeming His people who could never keep the rules! A God who gave a son to old Abraham and barren Sarah. A God who granted rescue to Israel through Joseph who’s brothers betrayed him to slavery. A God who brought a grumbling ungrateful nation through the wilderness and into a promised land.

Jesus is here telling the Jews, “My Father loves you enough to send and authorize me to redeem you fully. My works prove my message: You are not going to be saved by good deeds. You must trust me and believe that I am the Father’s rescue plan.”  

Are you hearing that message today? Have you received and embraced that rescue plan by faith? Christian, have you resisted Christ’s authority of late? Align yourself again by submitting obediently to Him today, and begin to reap the benefit of joy that will result.

Election

It’s Election Day 2020, a big day in the U.S.A.! Given that the voting age was 21 until 1971, the oldest living American voters who today will cast a vote for Donald Trump or Joe Biden would have begun their presidential voting careers in the era of Franklin D. Roosevelt, probably in the election of 1936 (perhaps a very few remain who are old enough to have voted to send FDR to the White House in 1932; such a person would need to have been born in 1911 and would be 109 or 110 years old now). Amazing!

As Americans there’s little we hold as precious as the right and responsibility to elect representative leaders. What a grace God has already shed on this nation in granting us participation in His work of establishing human government (Romans 13:1). And may He shed still more grace on us as we conscientiously, responsibly, and respectfully go to the polls in 2020!

Because I’m posting this on Election Day when many of you will either be at work or heading to or from your polling place, chances are you won’t read it until after your vote in the 2020 American election has been cast. That’s okay! In fact, it’s probably best that way, because this essay isn’t meant to influence your vote one way or the other. Actually this essay isn’t about your vote or my vote at all. This blog post is about God’s vote.

Election is a Bible theme. No, not ‘election’ in our common political parlance, but election as a divine prerogative. That’s right, I’m talking about the fact that the God of the Bible is an electing God. He makes choices that correspond to His perfect divine will and desire. He has a right to make choices, and it’s not a bestowed right but an inherent right, for who or what authority could grant the Supreme Being such a right? For citizens of elective forms of government around the world, our ‘electing’ privilege flows out of a constitution or some other legal framework–mechanisms for human electoral participation which again flow out of the grace of God. Not so with God. His ‘electing’ flows out of His own being; it’s not derived from or delegated to Him by any other higher source. Just consider these New Testament scriptural references to God’s electing/choosing activity:

“Who will bring a charge against God’s elect (i.e., God’s chosen people)? God is the one who justifies.” (Romans 8:33)

“Paul, a bondservant of God and an apostle of Jesus Christ, for the faith of those chosen of God and the knowledge of the truth which is according to godliness.” (Titus 1:1)

“So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” (Colossians 3:12)

“I solemnly charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus and of His chosen angels, to maintain these principles without bias, doing nothing in a spirit of partiality.” (1 Timothy 5:21)

“Just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and blameless before Him.” (Ephesians 1:4)

“But we should always give thanks to God for you, brethren beloved by the Lord, because God has chosen you from the beginning for salvation through sanctification by the Spirit and faith in the truth.” (2 Thessalonians 2:13)

Okay, okay. Yes, these are all found in the apostle Paul’s writings. So, lest we think God’s ‘electing’ prerogative is just a Paul thing, here are a few statements from Peter, John and Jesus Himself to prove otherwise:

“Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, To God’s elect, exiles scattered throughout the provinces…” (1 Peter 1:1)

“You did not choose Me but I chose you, and appointed you that you would go and bear fruit, and that your fruit would remain, so that whatever you ask of the Father in My name He may give to you.” (Jesus in John 15:16)

“And will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them?” (Jesus in Luke 18:7)

“But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.” (John 1:12-13)

And this isn’t just a New Testament thing! Here are some Old Testament examples of God exercising His electing prerogative:

• The choosing and calling of an old, dried-up pagan with no heir named Abraham to be the founder of a new nation (Genesis 12:1-3)
• God’s choice of a shepherd-boy named David to be king of Israel (2 Samuel 7:8)
• God’s appointing of Jeremiah to be prophet before he was even born (Jeremiah 1:5)

There are so many more! Consider Noah (Genesis 6:8-9), Moses (Exodus 3:10), queen Esther (Esther 4:14), and even the nation of Israel as a whole (Deuteronomy 14:2) whom God chose and called to be His special servants.

God is a choosing, electing God. But let’s bear in mind the great distinction between our electing and God’s electing. When we go to the poll to choose between candidates, or to approve or disapprove ballot measures, etc., we do so based on our sense of the merits or demerits of the options before us. Will candidate “A” be a better leader than candidate “B”? Will this tax pose a greater benefit or burden to me? In other words, we make decisions we believe best represent, preserve, protect, and promote our will and desires.

That’s not how or why God does His electing. He doesn’t base His choices on the merits, credentials, or qualifications of persons or groups. He doesn’t even base His choice on the foreseen potential of the individuals or nations He chooses for His purposes. Remember, He’s all-sufficient and perfect. He stands above and apart from His creation. He doesn’t need anything from us, and is in no way jeopardized by created beings. He bases His choices on His own merits. And one of His own merits is the fact that He alone is God. He doesn’t elect people to be His representatives in the world because He believes in them; He elects them because He believes in Him. Yep, God believes in God!

No person or nation has ever had a resume or track record of anything other than sin to show God (Isaiah 53:6; Romans 3:23). Every single individual and group named above was fallen, sinful, and deserving of death at the hand of almighty God just as everyone is to this very day (Romans 6:23).

If you’re guy loses you may face the outcome of the 2020 Election with very little hope for the future of America. Here’s the hope I want to offer you. It starts with the fact that America (and every other geopolitical power on earth) isn’t going to last forever. According to Scripture, this present world and its powers are passing away (1 Cor. 7:31). Republican democracy is not the answer to the world’s problems, Jesus is. His Kingdom is forever! You can have hope, peace and joy whatever the outcome of this or any future election involving the choices of men if and only IF you’re on the right side of God’s election and your place in Christ’s eternal kingdom is secure.

But you ask, “How can I know that? How can I know if God has chosen me to be part of Jesus’ kingdom?” Simple: Is Jesus beautiful to you or not? Is Jesus your rescuer or just a moral example? Is the Son of God–whose blood was willingly offered on the cross as an atonement for your sin–your only plea before God? In your heart do you find yourself saying “Yes!” to God’s offer of forgiveness and eternal life through Jesus? OR do you find yourself trying to polish your “resume”? You’ve done a few good things and have never murdered anyone; you pay your taxes and don’t cheat on your spouse, etc.

I didn’t ask you if you’re living right or if you always make the best decisions. None of us does right all the time! The question of whether or not you have been elected by God unto salvation is answered by your heart’s posture towards Jesus Christ. Do you hope in Him or are you hostile towards Him? Does his exclusive claim in John 14:6, “I am the way, the truth and the life; no one comes unto the Father except through me,” summon you to trust Him or does it offend you?

My hope is that on a day when we make big decisions and think about big consequential choices in the voting booth, you will also be reminded that the biggest decisions and choices are God’s, and that He has made one that involves your soul. He made you in His image. He loves you and offers His very best to you freely through Jesus Christ. God’s choice to save you from the punishment your sin deserves was made in eternity past, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a moment in your life when you wake up to it. Perhaps that moment can be today. Perhaps this is the moment you see Jesus in a new way!

But here’s the thing: if that happens, you can’t keep it a secret! God doesn’t just choose people for salvation; He sends those He saves on mission of proclamation. You don’t have to go to seminary or move to the Amazon jungle; you just have to be joyfully honest with people about who Jesus is and what He’s done for you and share that joy with others in His family known as the church.

Would you email me if your heart is changing towards Jesus? Contact me at averydarin@gmail.com. I’d love to encourage you as you embrace God’s loving choice of you as His child through faith!

Book Review: “A Long Obedience in the Same Direction”

Peterson, Eugene H., A Long Obedience in the Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society, Downers Grove: Intervarsity Press, 2000.

If the mere suggestion in Peterson’s subtitle isn’t hint enough, Christian discipleship that is neither whimsical nor casual is not only possible in an instant society, it is to be prefered and can genuinely be pursued. Why then, we might wonder, do we not see it more often practiced?

Peterson wonders the same, and offers an alternative to the name-only, convenience-based, comfort-laden discipleship served up in many churches today. Pushing back on Western culture’s (and by proxy Western Christianity’s) fascination with all things immediate is the author’s central aim. Borrowing his title phrase from a very unlikely source, Friedrich Nietzsche, who described consistency over the long haul as the manner of life likeliest to make life worth living, Peterson sets out to mine the metaphor and majesty of the Psalms of Ascents (Pss. 120-134) as a model of long-view growth and maturity in following Jesus.

From the starting point of the Christian life–repentance–those who, as Peterson says, “choose to live no longer as tourists but as pilgrims,” embark on the path of discipleship not from a place of satisfaction but rather holy dissatisfaction, and Psalm 120 is the launch pad. Repentance and faith are herein presented not as marks of fulfilment but rather recurring evidences of unfilfilment which, rather than discourage, propel the believer onward and upward. Using his own rather earthy paraphrases of the psalm texts, Peterson admits the raw discomfort of living as peace-seeking people in a peace-less world: “Deliver me from liars, GOD!… My whole life lived camping among quarreling neighbors. I’m for peace, but the minute I tell them so, they go to war” (from Ps. 120:2,6,7; p. 23)

Peterson sets the biblical storyline of motion from a recognized place of alienation from God to a longed-for place of rest with God over against the world’s view of a man-initiated, self-wrought salvation. Comparing the discipleship journey to modern immigration stories, the Bible (particularly the Psalms of Ascent) offers a dual-narrative of escape and adventure to which, according to Peterson, every Christian’s life bears some resemblance.

From Repentance to the themes of Providence (Ps. 121), Worship (Ps. 122), Service (Ps. 123), Help (Ps. 124), Security (Ps. 125), Joy (Ps. 126), Work (Ps. 127), Happiness (Ps. 128), Perseverance (Ps. 129), Hope (Ps. 130), Humility (Ps. 131), Obedience (Ps. 132), Community (Ps. 133), and Blessing (Ps. 134), the refrains of patience, persistence, thankfulness, and gladness echo through Peterson’s prose. Yet never does he sell the path of discipleship as easy. “Climbing is difficult. The tug of gravity is constant,” he says. “There are barriers to be surmounted and hazards to be met. Ordinarily, though, with a moderate amount of determination and stamina, people complete the climb they begin. But sometimes the foothold gives way and there is a slide backward” (p. 83).

Backsliding is a natural topic in a book about progress–especially upward and arduous progress–in spiritual maturity. Peterson raises due concern over the oft-touted mantra “once saved always saved,” which he holds to be generally true but also to have some noteable exceptions (e.g., Judas Iscariot, Hymenaeus and Alexander in 1 Tim. 1:19-20). While many, myself included, would contend these aren’t “exceptions” to eternal security but rather examples of the deceptiveness of false faith at last exposed by the abandonment of the Lord’s ways, Peterson rightly notes, “It is not possible to drift unconsciously from faith to perdition.” What Christians worried about their failings most need to hear, the author quickly supplies in reassuring passages like this: “We wander like lost sheep, true; but God is a faithful shepherd who pursues us relentlessly. We have our ups and downs, zealously believing one day and gloomily doubting the next, but he is faithful” (p. 90). In the chapter on Perseverance (Ps. 129) for example, the often misconstrued notion of believers “hanging in there” is corrected. “The central reality for Christians is the personal, unalterable, persevering commitment God makes to us. Perseverance is not the result of our determination, it is the result of God’s faithfulness” (p. 132).

As important as God’s faithfulness is, readers are also pointed to the human element in spiritual progress, namely Community. Peterson suggests (rather warns against) two ways of avoiding necessary community: 1) isolationism, and 2) institutionizing the church. “Somewhere between [seeing people as problems to solve or merely as resources to be exploited] there is community–a place where each person is taken seriously, learns to trust others, depend on others, be compassionate with others, rejoice with others” (p. 180).

Througout the book, scarcely a paragraph passes that doesn’t showcase Peterson’s firm grasp of the biblical material as well as his breadth of reading and facility in bringing insights and examples from a wide range of voices and venues.

Though Peterson’s The Message paraphrase is used almost exclusively when Bible passages are cited, and though it does have a rather accessible feel, perhaps a more frequent use of more traditional (literal) translations could lend greater depth to the reader’s understanding. Perhaps in some cases it could build appreciation for the need to revisit translations while in other cases reminding us that newer isn’t always better. For example, in the chapter on “Worship,” the King James Version’s rendering of Ps. 122:3–“Jerusalem is builded as a city that is compact together,” is said to have been preceded by Coverdale’s wording, “that is at unity with itself” (p. 52). Though it would make the book longer, showing more translative parallels such as these might give readers a more layered perspective.

As for personal application, I found every chapter helpful. But of particular poignance to me was a section that came in Peterson’s look at Psalm 134, “Blessings.” Here he contends that ‘feelings don’t run the show’ for the people of God. He argues for the psychosomatic unity of body and spirit, and that, counter to so much of current self-esteem and feelings-based thinking, those who may not feel like blessing God should do it anyway, and in so doing may find their minds and spirits following suit. From John Calvin whom Peterson cites asking, “For why do men lift their hands when they pray? Is it not that their hearts may be raised at the same time to God?” to Humphrey Bogart’s definition of a professional as someone who “did a better job when he didn’t feel like it,” every Christian who wants to have influence for good in the lives of others should heed the call to fight for joy and to prioritize worship when anything and everything seems more urgent or appealing.

In church media market flush with how-to books, every Christian leader should consider the soul toll of too many best-practices and too few bettered disciples (including ourselves as spiritual guides not merely administrative experts).

“A Long Obedience” can be read quickly; Peterson’s engaging style makes for a real page-turner. However, my advice (and I think Peterson would agree) is to be true to the title: take your time; digest a chapter a day or over a few days. Allow your imagination to transport you to that upward, rocky ascent to Jerusalem and draw connections to the obstacles and adventures of real life discipleship. Share a copy with a fellow pilgrim or two and journey together with the Psalms and Eugene Peterson as your guide.

And Hezekiah Welcomed Them Gladly”

“AND HEZEKIAH WELCOMED THEM GLADLY. AND HE SHOWED THEM HIS TREASURE HOUSE, THE SILVER, THE GOLD, THE SPICES, THE PRECIOUS OIL, HIS WHOLE ARMORY, ALL THAT WAS FOUND IN HIS STOREHOUSES. THERE WAS NOTHING IN HIS HOUSE OR IN ALL HIS REALM THAT HEZEKIAH DID NOT SHOW THEM.”

~ISAIAH 39:2

No, he didn’t write a book of the Bible—as some occasionally tease—but Hezekiah was a king, and a pretty darn good one too. That’s really saying something when you scan the vast majority of Judahite rulers between David and Jesus, the permanent Occupant of David’s throne. What a bunch of scoundrels!

Hezekiah is a fascinating study with some important points of connection for us today. Here are a few bullets of context for the verse quoted above (see 2 Chronicles 29-32 for even more):

• At 25, Hezekiah takes power in a time of great national rebellion, decay, and danger
• He has the Levitical priests purge the Temple of its filthy idols and reinstate proper worship
• He calls all Israel to remember and celebrate the Passover rightly
• He organizes the priests for faithful & more effective service
• In the face of Jerusalem being vastly outnumbered and besieged by Assyria, a hostile northern superpower, Hezekiah cries out to God who hears and delivers him and His people from destruction and domination.

We read in 2 Chron. 31:20-21: “Thus Hezekiah did throughout all Judah, and he did what was good and right and faithful before the LORD his God. And every work that he undertook in the service of the house of God and in accordance with the law and the commandments, seeking his God, he did with all his heart, and prospered.” Certainly an impressive guy in the midst of a string of mostly awful kings!

After Hezekiah’s faithfulness in the Assyrian crisis and God’s subsequent deliverance, a personal crisis strikes: Hezekiah becomes deathly sick. Isaiah the prophet tells him to get ready to die for his time is up. Again Hezekiah prays. Again God delivers and gives him 15 more years of life.

Here’s where Hezekiah’s deepest crisis hits.

Great leadership, great faithfulness, great effectiveness, and great humility had led to great prosperity for Hezekiah’s kingdom and great notoriety for himself. News of Judah’s national deliverance and Hezekiah’s personal deliverance ripple out from Jerusalem. These kinds of things don’t just happen! People far and wide are curious and want answers. When the Babylonians send an envoy to find out how such great things could happen to such a nobody king and worthless nation, what does Hezekiah do?

We’ll get to that, but first, what does Hezekiah’s God do? After all, the LORD is the One behind all this national and personal success, right? Second Chronicles 32:31 tells us: “…in the matter of the envoys of the princes of Babylon, who had been sent to him to inquire about the sign (i.e. all the good stuff) that had been done in the land, God left him to himself, in order to test him and to know all that was in his (Hezekiah’s) heart.”

Wow.

If you’re picturing angry Moses atop the rock while Israel writhes in rebellion; if you’re picturing lustful David atop his palace roof when his men are out fighting; if you’re picturing hiding, despairing Elijah complaining to God that he’s the only faithful one left in Israel; or if you’re picturing boastful Peter declaring his readiness to die with Jesus in front of the other disciples, you’re on the right track towards understanding Hezekiah’s plight: he’s been faithful to God, used of God; he’s said right things, done right things, and experienced visible signs of God’s favor and blessing; but he has a blind spot: his own heart. God isn’t blind to Hezekiah’s, Moses’, David’s, Peter’s, or our blind spots … but they were, and we can be too! The moment we feel the glow of success however big or small, especially having faced crises with faith, having followed God through hard stuff, having attained a moral and experiential footing from which to ascribe credit for the success, that is the most dangerous moment of all for a child of God.

How easy it is to look at visible successes and to overlook the invisible God who made them possible, even when we’ve acknowledged Him openly in the past, before or during a crisis. How easy it is to unlock the storehouse doors, to open the lids on the treasure chests of our lives and point curious outsiders to beautiful, tangible blessings when it is only God who has granted them.

Moses had encountered God face-to-face; he’d prayed for God to spare rebellious Israel in the past, and he felt he ought to get to strike the rock like before when this time God specifically said to speak to the rock in order to provide Israel with water. David stood for God’s honor when Goliath blasphemed, refused to kill Saul when his own men urged him to do so, and defended Israel valiantly time and time again. Surely these successes afforded him a one-nighter with another man’s wife? Elijah called down fire and slew 400 false prophets. Isn’t that worth a little self-congratulatory wound-licking? Peter nailed the answer to Jesus’ question: “Who do you say I am?” But even here Jesus reminds him and the other disciples that “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” came from the Father, not Peter.

“In those days Hezekiah became sick and was at the point of death, and he prayed to the LORD, and He answered him and gave him a sign. But Hezekiah did not make return according to the benefit done to him, for his heart was proud.” (2 Chron. 32:24-25)

God does nothing for us that He doesn’t expect us to fully credit or praise Him for doing. Hezekiah showcased God’s bountiful blessings for the Babylonian inquirers, but failed to showcase God. 2 Chron. 32:26a tells us that“Hezekiah humbled himself for the pride of his heart, both he and the inhabitants of Jerusalem so that the wrath of the LORD did not come upon them in the days of Hezekiah.” That’s good, right? Sure, for Hezekiah and his generation, but it wasn’t good for the coming generation! Hezekiah dies and the next chapter opens: “Manasseh was twelve years old when he began to reign, and he reigned fifty five years in Jerusalem. And he did what was evil in the sight of the LORD…”

What if while visiting all the grain storehouses and treasuries with his father the boy Manasseh had heard his dad give God worship before the Babylonians rather than showing off all of his wealth? One generation’s prideful failure to fully credit God became the next generation’s utter abandonment of God.

I want you to experience success. I want you to face adversity and crises of all kinds with faith and to taste the blessings and favor of God in real and tangible ways on the other side. I want curious outsiders and onlookers to investigate the visible goodness of God in your life. I want your church to weather its present crisis under your faithful, prayerful leadership and to emerge into a new season of revival and growth such that other pastors and even non-believers notice. I want the strife within your marriage or other strained family relationships to be the occasion for personal, spiritual deepening and dependance on God such that true healing and reconciliation not only happens but gets the attention of others. I want you to know the healing touch of God on your physical body, your emotions: your depression, your anxiety, etc. I want these and other kinds of “successes” for myself too! But what I want most of all is to avoid the temptation to showcase the tangible marks of blessing to the neglect of the Blesser. What I want most is for us to not fail to “make return according to the benefit done to us” by our great and gracious God.

We won’t fail in this if our pride is in check. We do this by keeping close to God’s word and to God in prayer, not just when the heat of pressure and crisis is bearing down and threatening to crush you but also (perhaps especially) when the pressure and crisis subsides. Then, when the curious come wanting to know why, what, and how, like Hezekiah, we can still welcome them gladly, but let’s not fail to identify the right Who that has brought us through and blessed us!

Self-Control: the missing ingredient to many resolution recipes

From the global right down to the personal, the vast majority of events are beyond our control. We cannot control others’ wishes, intentions, hopes, actions or reactions. The news proves just how beyond human control the world is, even if newscasters and newsmakers want to believe otherwise. Furthermore, there is much about ourselves that we cannot control. The self-help, self-mastery, self-reform and self-improvement that the “self-help” industry offers is frankly illusory. Anti-aging creams, illness prevention tactics, saving money, retirement planning tools, etc., these things might have micro benefits, but one shouldn’t construe pursuing them as “taking control of my life,” especially when we’re only one unforeseen/unforeseeable malignancy, one stock-market crash, one drunk driver away from catastrophe.

Much is indeed beyond our control, but the Bible teaches that some things are under our control. One of the Holy Spirit’s fruits in the lives of those He possesses is self-control (Galatians 5:23). But what does this mean? Does it mean disciples of Jesus have full control over every aspect of life: our mental, physical, emotional health, our financial, relational, and occupational concerns? No one living in the real world would believe that’s what the Bible means by “self-control.”

Self-control, along with the other fruits Paul lists in his letter to the Galatians (namely love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and gentleness), is set in the immediate context of an even longer list of sins to be avoided. Paul’s grand aim in the epistle to the Galatians is to ward off a couple of deadly misunderstandings of salvation that were creeping into the early church: 1) that people are saved by keeping the law (legalism), and 2) that saving grace permits us to indulge in sin (licentiousness). These views pervert both God’s soveriegnty in saving sinners apart from meritorious human effort and the saved person’s real accountability and responsibility once saved. As Paul says, it is “For freedom Christ has set us free.” We don’t set ourselves free from sin; Jesus does that! Salvation is true freedom, but freedom comes with obligations. “Stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke off slavery” (Gal. 5:1). Part of the God-given freedom saved persons enjoy from sin is the accompanying God-given power to resist sin’s life-dominating power. Paul doesn’t say, “Don’t worry about becoming a slave to sin anymore; God’s got you.” No way! He says “Do not submit…” That sounds like legitimate personal control to me!

Christian self-control, then, is not the power to ordain events but rather the power to rightly order our minds and affections such that our actions please God and benefit others. Self-control is an inside-out thing. God gives us inner power through His indwelling Holy Spirit to affect outer behaviors. Why does the Spirit’s gift of self-control come at the end of Paul’s list? Could it be that self-control, though perhaps not the most flashy fruit of the Spirit, has a functional importance that Paul wanted to stick in the Galatians’ minds (and ours) as an exclamation point on the list? It’s one thing to list a bunch of great Christian qualities, but without a mechanism for choosing and expressing them, we’d be better off not even knowing them. Spirit-empowered self-control is that very mechanism. 

Even if we can picture ourselves being loving, kind, patient, joyful, gentle, etc., how do we get there; how do we do it, especially when so much of the time people and circumstances outside our control push us to act in exactly the opposite way(s)? We do it by exercising control over our fleshly desires. Paul says in 1 Corinthians 9:27, “I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.” For Paul’s idea of ‘discipline’ in that verse, picture those grueling training sequences in the Rocky movies where the boxer’s body is being pounded into shape. What are ‘fleshly desires’? They’re the things we want to do that conflict with God’s commands laid out in Scripture–the things that get pounded into submission through rigorous self-discipline. Self-control is the Christian’s disciplined power to obey God instead of carnal instincts in any and every situation that’s outside of his or her control—and that’s almost every situation imaginable.

Self-control is important all the time, but perhaps it needs a bit more attention at a time when many folks do some soul-searching and self-evaluation. The turn of a new year is a time for making resolutions. However, within a few weeks for many of those who resolve to eat less, exercise more, gripe less, give more—you name it—depression sets in as once again resolve and willpower buckle under the pressure of the flesh and the power of old habits. Want to be more patient in the workplace? Great! How will you show that patience when a younger associate gets the promotion you wanted? Trust me, you’re not obligated—by anything other than your fleshly desires, that is—to grumble, complain, or worst of all quit a job that God has provided for you. Sure, the situation is frustratingly outside your control, but your response to it isn’t; you’re in the driver’s seat when it comes to reactions. Want to promote greater peace in your home and family next year? Wonderful! Politician and diplomat Adlai Stevenson once famously said, “Making peace is harder than making war.” How will you promote peace by responding in kindness and gentleness (against every fiber of your body which wants to retaliate) when a family member digs up your painful past or in some other way tries to start a fight? How will you do the hard thing of lovingly explaining how that person’s words hurt you, and your desire to resolve differences peacefully? The will to make peace isn’t going to materialize out of thin air, nor is it likely to come from family members not indwelt by Christ’s Spirit; it’s going to come from the Spirit of self-control that you possess by faith in Jesus and that possesses you and enables you to crucify your flesh’s desire to win an argument, justify your anger, or get revenge. 

Those are a couple of big opportunities to use self-control, but what about smaller, day-to-day situations? Got some frustrating extra pounds you want rid of? Don’t we all! Believe it or not, talking with a doctor, dietician or fitness professional about a healthy weight-loss plan is a great way to display self-control. In that case, self-control emerges as you deny a prideful “I-can-do-this-all-by-myself” attitude. On the other side of that scenario is the reality of facing literally hundreds of small, daily decisions in which your dietician or personal trainer will not be present to coach you: M&Ms at snack time or carrots? Elevator or stairs coming and going from the office? Watching football all afternoon on Sunday or getting up a game in the back yard with your kids and their neighborhood friends? 

What about a critical spirit? Are there things about others (perhaps especially other Christians) that drive you nuts and you just can’t help but think ill of them or, even worse, work behind the scenes to convince others they should think ill of them too? There will always be faults to find for those looking to find them. Paul told the Philippians, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things and the God of peace will be with you” (Philippians 4:8). Notice how Paul began that word of admonition: “Finally.” Kind of like self-control coming at the end of the list of Spirit fruits. You know, it takes self-control to overlook another person’s flaws (especially other Christians) and to rejoice in the things that are right and good and pure about him or her. God isn’t going to force your hand; and standing before His throne, you won’t get to excuse a proud, critical attitude towards other believers…even if you’re right!

Again, you’re not a passive passenger just along for the ride; you’re behind the wheel on this deal! God is indeed sovereign over every human decision. He has sovereignly directed your every thought and deed from conception to this moment—even permitting the bad ones—for the greater purposes of your good and His glory. But divine sovereignty is not going to fly as an excuse for indulging our sinful, self-centered, fleshly desires. God has given us the gift of self-control and the responsibility to use it in every situation to bring Him glory and to manifest the righteous character of our Savior, Jesus, before a world wanting to see if faith in Him really changes and helps people.

Christian, have you been lacking in the exercise of self-control? Step one is to confess it to God; admit that you’ve been caving to the baser impulses of your desires. Don’t worry, God already knows it; nothing you confess will ever come as a surprise to Him! Confession honors God, but it isn’t about altering His attitude towards you; He loves you with an undying, faithful love, and longs for your holiness (see Psalm 86:5). Instead, confession is our chance to acknowledge yet again that God’s way is best. John the apostle assures us, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). A next step is to confess your sin to another believer. Share with that brother or sister the particular areas/situations where you lack self-control, and ask him or her to pray for your discipline and to inquire regularly about your progress. You can also offer to do the same for that person. Few things are more helpful in stemming our own tempting desires than praying for another believer to exercise self-control in the face of their temptations.

It’s time to stop making excuses for not living out the fruits of the Spirit. They are not inaccessibly high, unattainable traits of holiness. Read Galatians 5:22-23 again, and circle the last fruit on the list: self-control. It’s about knowing what’s right and doing it. It’s about obedience. Circumstances will often be beyond our control, temptations will often seem overpowering, but even in these seemingly impossible situations God does not tie our hands and keep us from obeying His clear commands. Rather, He gives us His Spirit who guides our minds to know the truth and fuels our will to do what pleases the Father to the glory of the Son.

I pray we’ll use the power of the Spirit through the blessing of self-control to see life-change that honors Jesus, builds up the saints, and assures us of our God’s total, ever-present, sovereign control of all things in the coming year until our Lord returns!

Have a self-controlled 2019 as you serve our King and point others to His light and love!

Neon Church

Sometimes one just can’t let a moment of irony pass. This afternoon I was presented with just such a moment.

When I donate plasma I like to take something to read. Today’s selection was “Letters to the Church.” Suggested by several friends, I recently picked up a copy of Francis Chan’s most recent dagger…I mean book. It’s one of those ‘need-to-read’ but ‘hurts-to-read’ kind of reads! To the point, as always, Chan wastes no time or words critiquing American consumer-Christianity. 

Nearly in tears as my donation was ending (from Chan’s words, not the needle in my arm), I was caught by some other words—the words of a song coming through the plasma center speakers. Usually the Muzak is set to either an 80s-90s mix or hip-hop. Today it was country. I had my earbuds in listening to some (non-Country) reading music and had to pull one out to catch the last chorus of Tim McGraw singing “Neon Church.”    I need a neon church with a jukebox choir  // Full of honky tonk angels with their wings on fire  // Straight pourin’ out that Johnnie Walker healin’   // I got a feelin’ // I need a neon church.                                                                    

I had to hear the whole song as soon as I left. Depicting a broken-hearted soul desperate for healing, comfort, relief, escape…all of the above, it’s definitely a ‘rip-your-heart-out’ but ‘can’t-stop-listening’ kind of tune. Oddly enough, Jesus comes up right away in the opening line: I need Jesus or I need whiskey  //  Whatever works best to get me through  //  Gettin’ over you.

Part of me wants to be really offended for Jesus. Really? Jesus OR Whiskey? Apparently the bar crowd knows enough about Jesus to know He could possibly help heal a broken heart and lift a life out of a spiral of addiction and despair, but the rest of the song holds true to reality for far too many: whiskey’s just more accessible than Jesus.

I’m offended for Jesus, but not because the bar crowd chooses the whiskey, honky-tonk music, pick-up line, one night stand, broken heart, repeat… cycle over His offer of forgiveness through His blood and new life through faith. I’m offended because the Church seems to be doing such a poor job of presenting Jesus and a life of faith in a community of changed, redeemed people as compellingly superior to a jukebox and a bottle of Johnnie Walker.

Jesus comes up once, but church comes up again and again. Churchy language shouldn’t surprise us entirely; after all, Country music was born out of southern and Appalachian religious stock. Baptism, preaching, praying…it’s all here…all the stuff of congregating and worship is here, just misapplied, misdirected.

As the plasma tech bandaged my arm, I closed Chan’s book, but not before finishing a section on supernatural unity within the church. He quotes Jesus’ prayer for the disciples in John 17: “…that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me.” This unity isn’t for God’s or the church’s sake; it’s for the not-yet Church’s sake! Unity among Christians serves the purpose of spreading the good news of grace to those drowningly desperate for it and scraping to find a meager husks of unity and good news in the empty promises of substances and sex.

Community is impossible to miss in “Neon Church.” It’s there in almost every line, but it’s a community held together by the togetherness of mutual pain and disappointment of various types and degrees. The bar gets called a Neon Church, the congregation a party crowd, the bartender a preacher, the jukebox a choir.

It’s a shame that the metaphoric label McGraw’s song uses for this community is the name of God’s community of faith. Perhaps only in an American culture—a culture founded by church people, saturated for centuries with church and churchiness—can this type of song be written, sung, and understood. Our job as the true Church is not to be outraged that in this song drunkenness and despair are called by the name “Neon Church.” Our job is to ask whether or not we’re really offering anything better—and no, I’m not talking about better music or refreshments! It’s that kind of thinking that makes a metaphorical leap like Neon Church no leap at all. Somehow over time American churches bought the lie that to win the lost we had to offer them top-notch (though sanctified and virtuous) alternatives to their vices. Could it be that “Neon Church” makes sense to a wide audience because that audience tried various “real” churches and found them offering “be good,” “do good,” and “feel good,” with no visible, tangible, or communal proof that God is good?

The saddest verse of all says: Baptize me in that bar room smoke  // Bartender, preach to me till my heart ain’t broke no more  // Ain’t that what this place is for?  //  I tried bended-knee, hands-up prayin’  //  But damned if that hurt don’t just keep hangin’ around  //  What I need right now… is a neon church

The songwriter knew enough about real church to know that baptism, preachers and preaching are about the business of broken hearts. He also knows that praying is meant to comfort; yet it would appear from the writer’s depiction that somehow the community of true baptism, true preaching, and true praying dropped the ball. I’m left with a picture of a person slipping into the back row of a service, hearing a sermon, maybe even wanting to be baptized, trying to pray but not being pursued by the church, the very community responsible for hanging around until the hurt is indeed gone. I see that person slipping out again in pursuit of the place and the people and the products that offer—in his mind at least—the next best thing to the real thing.

Such persons are not without fault. Many personal decisions lead folks to the Neon Church and back again and again, decisions that cannot be laid at the true Church’s feet. But I do believe these folks visit our churches and often leave not because the preaching is bad or the building smells funky but because too often we simply let them. We let them drive by our homes and wonder what Christians talk about at the dinner table. We let them leave because they have a lot of problems. We let them leave because we also have a lot of problems and we don’t want more. 

But ain’t that what (and who) this place is for?

Christian Despair?

In the early morning I often skim several psalms before one (or part of one) of them wakes me up from my lingering sleepiness. This morning it was Psalm 88, to which the Holman Bible editors ascribe the heading: A Cry of Desperation. Though not inspired, that heading is also not inaccurate.

Depression, heavy-heartedness, discouragement, and despair are realities of our broken world. “Positive-thinking” and self-esteem mantras may sound good–“Mind over matter,” “Look on the bright side,” “Count your blessings,” “See the glass as half-full,” “Just tune in to the Fish,” “You’re good enough, smart enough, and dog-gone-it, people like you,” etc. But eventually (and inevitably) all of that good mojo-ism runs out of steam and fails to deliver on its promise of emotional buoyancy. Not only is it impossible to ignore forever the brokenness of the world outside of ourselves but, faced with personal weakness, failure, disappointment and fatigue, everyone succumbs to the dark hopelessness of the inner world at some point as well. And we sink.

Christian, it’s a false notion that as God’s redeemed people we are somehow inoculated by His saving grace to never experience some of this! In fact, the whole Bible and all of church history testify to the contrary–that rather than apart from our experience, desperation must surely be a part of our experience of God’s saving grace both before and after conversion. Luther characterized just one of his famous Anfechtungen (Ger. testings/tempations) this way: “For more than a week I was close to the gates of death and hell. I trembled in all my members. Christ was wholly lost. I was shaken by desperation and blasphemy of God.”

Consider the opening address of Psalm 88:

“LORD, God of my salvation…”

Not a bad start, right? The psalmist could go anywhere from here! But straight off the cliff he plunges in the next phrase: “I cry out before You day and night…” and downward he plummets all the way to his closing line 18 verses later:

“You have distanced loved one and neighbor from me; darkness is my [only] friend.”

How can someone greet God as Savior and yet close a prayer on such a gloomy note? And don’t forget, this isn’t just a prayerful poem; it’s a song…  to be sung… by a gathering of people… and not just any people but by God’s people… His chosen people!  I don’t know a lot about music, but I know the difference between how a major and minor chord sound, and this psalm is definitely in the Minor!

Even in desperate times, the faithful (like the psalmist) will humbly greet the Lord: “Savior, hear me!” Yet, in God’s provident wisdom the souls He loves retain an aftertaste of despair, sense His absence while knowing by faith He is not absent, and feel a distance, a separation, when no such distance or separation really (or at least, permanently) exists. Truly it does not exist for God, the all-present One whose power and touch pervades every galaxy right down to the gap between each and every atom. Despair is not the absence of faith; if so no such psalm would ever have been composed. Faith sees what isn’t seen with the eye, and it knows for certain what our emotions and present circumstances may tempt us to doubt.

“For I have had enough troubles, and my life is near Sheol.”

When will we learn that it is in love that God grants us desperation? Man says, “No more!” God says, “No. More!” Though its penalty is gone, why must the reeking residue of sin and its consequences (both ours and others’) never fully leave us as God’s people here on earth? If it did, would we not grow complacent to the urgency of taking the gospel of salvation to those who’ve yet to receive it? Even though it’s not permanent for God’s people, desperation is of great value and purpose in order for us to remain tender to the real state of the lost and cursed. Even though the lost may experience happiness and outward prosperity, despair and true darkness and deadness of soul is their lot as it was once ours before the light of redeeming mercy broke through. Now we sing, even in sorrow and seasons of discouragement, because faith tells us despair is not our permanent estate. But what of the lost? They have no song of sadness. For them it’s either jolly jingles of false hope in health, wealth and material things or it’s nothing at all–the silence of real (perhaps even permanent) separation from the Savior.

“I am counted among those going to the Pit. I am like a man without strength, abandoned among the dead. I am like the slain lying in the grave, whom You no longer remember, and who are cut off from Your care.”

Couple of key words there: “among,” and “like.” While the psalmist describes his feelings of despair, he’s also careful to distinguish himself from those actually going to the pit,  actually void of strength and abandoned, and actually slain, forgotten and cut off from God. Jesus’ great promise in John 10:28-29 to give His sheep eternal life and to never let them be snatched from His and the Father’s hands is is indeed loving! But so is God’s willingness to hold us such that, we remain spiritually desperate for His hand and thus 1) all the more thank Him for the deep assurance faith in His promised care provides, and 2) all the more trust Him in boldly taking the hope of salvation to those still descending into oblivion, who have yet to feel His rescuing clasp about their souls by the power of Christ through faith in Him–a faith that comes by hearing–hearing the gospel that we proclaim to them.

Before coming to Christ, we didn’t know God had chosen us for salvation any more than those yet to be saved today know that He’s chosen them. But, the all-sovereign God has indeed foreknown His redeemed ones from eternity past. A. J. Gordon writes:

“But if this union [between Christ and saved one] runs back of time, it is not less really in time a practical and present reality; practical and present, because eternal. For what is faith but the soul ratifying and appropriating that election of God which was made before creation? Very literally it is

“An affirmation and an act                                                                                         that bids eternal truth be present fact.”

That which is given only in the divine intent and foreordination, is not ours till we consciously and believingly accept it. “Faith cometh by hearing,” and possession by faith. God’s choice of us lays hold of us only through our choice of Him. And it is when the soul, waking up to the fact of its sad alienation from its Maker [by the Spirit’s working through the gospel], and uttering its earnest “I will arise and go to my Father,” joins itself to that Father by a trusting faith, that the Father, who in the Christ of eternity saw him “when he was yet a great way off,” and in the Christ of time crucified and slain came out to meet him, becomes completely reconciled to him.”

~From “In Christ; or The Believer’s Union with His Lord” (pp. 16-17)

Don’t worry, I had to read that passage several times before it clicked. Point is, the same way we who are born again were in real despair before hearing the gospel and embracing it by faith, so also are the unsaved (and not-yet-saved) around us today. And now, while our seasons of gloom and desperation may be excruciating, by faith we can legitimately, with the psalmist, still call cry out, “God of my salvation,” and mean it! The psalm comes into clearer focus–and perhaps you might feel a little less targeted for abuse and mistreatment by God–when you read,

“Your wrath weighs heavily on me…  You have distanced my friends from me…  But I call to You for help, LORD; in the morning my prayer meets You.  LORD, why do You reject me? Why do You hide Your face from me?”

See it? Hear it? Who’s talking? Not just the psalmist!

Of all people, who’s friends had the least cause to abandon him? Who of all people suffered the most undue rejection? Who, of all people, could most genuinely cry out to God, “Why do you hide Your face from me?”

(Insert universal Sunday School answer here!) _________________.

That’s as real as desperation gets: for God’s Son to cry out from the cross in anguish of separation from His Father, “Why have You forsaken Me?” And if He tasted that kind of desperation–all while knowing and trusting God’s plan, anticipating His resurrection in three days’ time, ‘enduring the cross and despising its shame for the joy that lay before Him’ (Heb. 12:2)–why would we expect an exemption from a similar season(s) of despair as we progress through our remaining time on earth? Jesus’ temporal suffering and despair purchased sinners from deserved eternal suffering and despair. Our suffering and despair doesn’t purchase anyone from that, but it does help point others to Jesus who paid the penalty. Yes, Paul reminds the Corinthians,

“Now we have this treasure in clay jars, so that this extraordinary power may be from God and not from us. We are pressured in every way but not crushed; we are perplexed but not in despair; we are persecuted but not abandoned; we are struck down but not destroyed. We always carry the death of Jesus in our body, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.” (2 Cor. 4:7-10)

In order to not directly contradict Paul, would it be fair to say that it’s not so much a question of despair or no despair for the Christian, but rather a matter of duration? Paul is talking about the outer things of life being destroyed and removed so that the inner realities of new life in Christ are revealed more and more. That’s true, but we know that discouragement and inner desperation are real things even for Christians, and that difficulties can make us susceptible to them. Yet God has given us resources to overcome these hardships and feelings of helplessness: prayer, the Word, the inner witness of the Spirit, yes. But there’s another really important resource God gives us: community. Luther’s deepest despair came in his times of greatest isolation. Without the support of Christian community, Paul’s “we are perplexed but not in despair” might’ve been, “I am perplexed and despairing.”

Are you desperate? despairing? Do you feel as if Christ is wholly lost to you? I offer here no suggestion that your outer life can or will ever only advance upward, bright, and untroubled and unimpeded. That’s not biblical! But in the long-run, I believe you can expect the overall quality of your spiritual life to trend upward and ever-Christward though interspersed with seasons of intense and intensifying pain and desperation. Paul knew better than everyone but Jesus Himself that “our momentary light affliction is producing for us an absolutely incomparable eternal weight of glory.” (2 Cor. 4:17)

Who is the nearest member of Christ’s body to you? Call him/her. Be willing to be transparent about your spiritual and emotional state of desperation. What factors are limiting your genuinely beneficial  fellowship with other believers? Sin? Distraction? Physical illness and separation? Busyness either outside or even inside the church?

Psalm 88 is written in first-person singular–it’s intended to portray the singular voice of our despairing Savior who alone suffered God’s wrath for us. But it’s to be sung, read, meditated upon in a unison of voices around the world. Psalm 88 is a song, a hymn for congregational not mere individual worship. Yes, it’s dark; yes, it’s desperate, yet over it hangs the inspired and eternally unchangeable greeting, “God of my salvation,” because He is! Jesus claims that truth not only for Himself but for all those for whom He died in desperate dependence upon His Father.

For the Christian, despair is useful, but it’s not ultimate!

I’d love to hear from you and encourage you. Please share your thoughts on this article with me at averydarin@gmail.com.

Thanks!