What Do You Depend On?

What do you depend on in an emergency?

Memorial Day morning was perfect for a long bike ride: About 60 degrees, almost no wind, and very little traffic because of the holiday. I decided on a 28 mile route and got out the door early.

Eight miles into the ride, on an isolated, beautiful road, after a long downhill, something didn’t feel right. I pulled over and found that my rear tire had lost a significant amount of pressure.

No problem. I always carry a spare tube, as well as a carbon dioxide container to inflate the tube quickly. Indeed, this was the same spare tube I had carried with me for the last five months.

I removed the wheel, took the tire off the rim, examined the tire for thorns or glass, and inspected the rim – all looked fine.

A few minutes later, with the new tube on the rim and the tire remounted, I inflated the tire with the CO2 container and was ready to go.

Except I immediately heard “Whoosh!” Air coming out of the tube.

My spare tube had a hole in it.

That spare tube was defective. It had always had a hole in it.

I had carried that tube with me for 1000 miles of biking. I always thought I was prepared, ready for a flat, because I had that tube.

And all along, I wasn’t prepared at all. I was deceived. I had no security. What I thought would help me in an emergency was of no use at all.

So: What do you depend on in an emergency?

Much of what we depend on is like that tube. It looked fine. No defect was apparent. It came from a reliable company. The tube that had lasted a thousand miles was the same brand. Yet in my hour of need, it proved to be worthless.

Just so, our own strength and fortitude will fail us. Other people will fail us. Our philosophies will fail us.

All of us will face trials and tragedies in this life. Eventually, we will all face death. What will you depend on?

As the author of Hebrews assures us,

[God] has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” So we can confidently say, “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?” (Hebrews 13:5-6)

And the Apostle Paul asks:

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? . . . No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:35, 37-39)

When that same Apostle came to the point of death, knowing that he was soon to be beheaded, he wrote:

The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom. To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen. (2 Timothy 4:18)

So once again: What do you depend on?

Don’t depend on a defective tube. Lean instead on the solid rock:

His oath, His covenant, His blood,
Support me in the ‘whelming flood.
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my hope and stay.

On Christ the solid rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand. (Edward Mote, 1834)

Sovereignty and Evil in an Iranian Prison

A ravaging tornado destroys entire neighborhoods and kills dozens, including many children. A government agency abuses power by singling out certain political viewpoints for invasive questioning. One country in the Middle East falls further and further into chaos, while another moves closer and closer to building nuclear weapons.

Where in the world is God? Is He really in control? Does He care?

Scripture assures us that “our God is in the heavens; He does all that He pleases” (Psalm 115:3). So how do tornadoes and government corruption and political chaos and the threat of nuclear terrorism please God?

Consider these questions in light of a recent book, Captive in Iran by Maryam Rostampour and Marziyeh Amirizadeh. These two friends came to Christ, and were active in distributing Bible and sharing their faith with anyone who might ask. Eventually they were arrested.

Fearful and suffering, they do not know what they might encounter in the hellhole of the notorious Evin prison. But what they find is many hurting people who are willing to hear Jesus’ story and their story:

We were in the best place we’d ever been for witnessing to people hungry for the gospel of Jesus. The living conditions weren’t very good, but we didn’t have to deal with travel and traffic! And we could tell our fellow prisoners the story of Jesus openly because no one would come into this rat hole to spy on us. (647 – the numbers after each quotation are Kindle locations)

Our conversation with [a prisoner] was another reminder of how God had moved us on from what we thought we should be doing to what He wanted us to do. We had hosted two home churches and distributed twenty thousand Farsi New Testaments, evangelizing while avoiding the regime. It was a slow process. Now that we were in prison, we could talk openly about our faith. Whereas before we had searched for people to speak to, now they came looking for us: “Go see the Christian girls!” The very prison system that tried to silence us was now our megaphone. (2843)

Even some of the guards seek out their prayers:

“I’m tired of working here,” [one guard] admitted. “I don’t think I’m cut out for it. Would you pray for me?” “I will be happy to.” And so I prayed for my captor, secure in the presence of the Lord that washed over me in waves, in the deepest recesses of the most feared ward of the most notorious prison in one of the most oppressed nations of the world. Surely I had never felt more blessed. (2498)

Uncharged, they are kept in prison for many months. Finally they appear before a judge, facing the charge of apostasy – which can lead to execution. The judge asks:

Miss Amirizadeh, are you a Christian? Are you called to follow Jesus? Explain to me what you mean by that.” As the questions hung in the air, I felt chills run up and down my body. They were the same questions, asked the same way, I had been asked during my baptism ceremony. . . . Today, October 7, was the four-year anniversary of that day. . . . The first time I was asked the questions, I was free, happy, and surrounded by friends. Now I’m under the threat of death. God is asking, “Are you still a Christian?” The path to Christ is never the easy way. As Jesus said to His disciples in Mark 8:34, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” Today I renewed the promise I made to God on this date years ago. I promise to take up my cross and follow Christ. I want to die for God. I will follow Him forever. Sometimes God puts us in a difficult situation and tries us. This is the real test. “When you are in fear, will you still be true?” I decided in court to follow God even if it kills me. (3719)

After an international outcry leads Iranian authorities to look for a way to release the women while saving face, the chief prosecutor assures them he is on their side and is willing to help them, if they will negotiate with him. Maryam answers:

“I sincerely thank you for your kindness . . . but my trust and reliance are with God. I believe it is the Lord’s will that Marziyeh and I should be in prison, and that our freedom lies in His hands alone. If the Lord wishes to release us, no one can stand in His way. Of course, we don’t like staying in prison and we would rather be free, but we prefer to wait for the Lord’s decision on the matter.” (3905)

They are released, without apologizing for anything they have done.  God showed His sovereignty and His faithfulness to these two brave women.

In the case of Maryam and Marziyeh, we see the end result; God did indeed use even the evil acts of evil men to bring about His good purposes. Their faith was strengthened; the Gospel spread to some of the most downtrodden in Iranian society. But remember: When the authorities first threw them in prison, they had no idea how God was acting. They faced the possibility of death time and again. Others in similar situations had died.

As these two women clearly say, God’s sovereignty does not imply that we will have easy lives. It does not imply that God will get us out of every difficult and dangerous situation.

Rather: Our God is in the heavens, doing all that He pleases. We will face confusing, dangerous, and difficult times. Sometimes in retrospect – as in this case – we see how He worked for good in the midst of danger; often we do not. But Scripture assures us: He is at work. So we are to live by faith and not by sight.

He is sovereign. Trust Him with your life.

Why Did a Davidson Math Major and Stanford PhD Submit Himself to the Authority of Scripture? The Authority of Scripture, Part 3

Over three blog posts, we’re considering our position before God’s revelation in Scripture. Two weeks ago, we looked at the biblical image of us as two-year-olds before God. Last week, we considered the impact of sin on our ability to think and reason. Today, I’ll tell my own story of coming to submit myself to the authority of Scripture.

I graduated from Davidson as an excellent student and an accomplished athlete. I believed I could do anything I set my mind to doing. For to that point in my life, I either had – or had a good excuse for why I hadn’t.

I called myself a Christian. I read the Bible – occasionally. I had read all the New Testament, and perhaps eighty percent of the Old. I thought I knew it.

But I did not believe in the authority of Scripture. I was not under the Word; rather, I was over it, judging it. If Scripture seemed reasonable to me, I liked it and followed it – and used it to justify what I already believed. If it didn’t seem reasonable to me, I didn’t follow it. So in the end, my own reason was my authority – my own fallen reason, my own sin-soaked reason.

I had grown up in the Washington, DC area. Many of my friends in high school had parents with bad marriages – usually because the father was a workaholic, neglecting his wife and children. So even while I was in high school, I told myself: Should I ever get married, I won’t be like that. I will make the marriage work.

By the time of my Davidson graduation, I was seriously involved with the perfect woman, Beth. There was no question: Our marriage would work. We loved each other; we were committed to each other; and we were both wonderful. Of course our marriage would be wonderful.

Yet two and a half years after our wedding, the marriage was in disarray. Indeed, it was falling apart. One pivotal night thirty-one years ago, I had to acknowledge that I was destroying our marriage, Beth, this supposedly perfect woman, was destroying our marriage, and there was nothing I could do to keep it from dissolving. Indeed, I had to recognize that, left to my own devices, I would continue to destroy it.

I was an economics PhD student, but I was not maximizing my utility. Instead: I was destroying what I really loved and wanted most.

That night, I confessed my sin before God, and asked His forgiveness through the blood of Jesus.

God worked powerfully that night. I still didn’t believe in the authority of Scripture. But I did see that my putting myself above scriptural authority was part of the problem. I had ignored parts of Scripture that I didn’t want to listen to – and some of those parts spoke directly to the issues in our marriage.

So I began reading the Bible in a fresh way. I asked God to give me insight into it. I prayed for wisdom to understand His Word. I beseeched God to change me through His Word.

As I approached Scripture as a supplicant, I began to see more and more of myself described in it. Particularly powerful was Romans 7, where Paul describes exactly what I had gone through:

I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand.  For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! (Romans 7:21-25)

As I read this and other Scriptures over the course of the next eighteen months, God convinced me of Scripture’s authority. Though I wouldn’t have used these terms at that time, this is how it came about:

I recognized that I had been seeing God as the coach and myself as His quarterback, or God as president and myself as Secretary of State. And I had to acknowledge that I was not even His second string defensive tackle. I had thought that God was fortunate to have someone with my talents and abilities to call himself a Christian; and I had to acknowledge that I was the problem, not the solution to God’s problems.

I had made my own reason my ultimate authority, judging Scripture by it. Because of the noetic effects of sin, I had to acknowledge that my reason could never play that role; I could not understand His Scriptures apart from Him, apart from His help. Indeed, I would without fail distort them and misinterpret them for my own selfish – and ultimately harmful – purposes.

But when I approached His Word with humility, I discovered the truth of Proverbs 2:3-6:

If you call out for insight and raise your voice for understanding, if you seek it like silver and search for it as for hidden treasures, then you will understand the fear of the LORD and find the knowledge of God. For the LORD gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding.

I then saw that I was only God’s two-year-old. That is, I had nothing that would make Him want to choose me, nothing that would make Him want to have me on His team.

“Only” His two-year-old – that was a humbling thought. However, I was His two-year-old! I was His precious child! This process of putting myself under the authority of Scripture was not solely an intellectual process, a way of coming to Truth – but it was fundamentally relational. I was His beloved child – He chose me out of His own goodness and mercy, He gave His Son for me, He welcomed me into His presence.

He accommodated Himself to my capacity; He spoke baby talk to me so that I could be like a weaned child with his mother: so that I could rest in Him and delight in Him.

So that’s how a Davidson math major and Stanford PhD came to submit himself to the authority of Scripture.

So where are you? Do you doubt the authority of Scripture?

If so, take this test: Commit yourself every day to come humbly before the Word of God. Follow some systematic plan for reading through Scripture (the Bible Unity Plan is one option). Before you read each day, pray to God something like this: “God, if You exist, and if the Bible is indeed Your revelation, then it tells me I cannot understand it on my own. In my inner being, I really do want know the Truth; I want to submit to the Truth. So if the Bible is Your Word, open up this passage to me. Enable me to understand it and apply it. If it is Your revelation, open my eyes to see that truth.”

I challenge you: Make that commitment. And then go to the Word in that way every day – for thirty years.  I trust that God, by then, will have answered your prayer.

(A final blog post will point to other recommended references concerning the authority of Scripture.)

(For printing, download this pdf file.)

We Can’t Think Straight: The Authority of Scripture, Part 2

Over three blog posts, we’re considering our position before God’s revelation in Scripture. Last week, we looked at the biblical image of us as two-year-olds before God. Today we consider the impact of sin and the Fall on our ability to think and reason.

Two-year-olds push the limits against their parents. They rebel against authority.

Scripture tells us that this holds for every one of us: All humans have rebelled against God. This rebellion so permeates our being that we cannot think straight. Our reasoning is distorted. Our view of the world is twisted. Some theologians term this the noetic effects of sin.

Many passages bring out this truth. Perhaps the most in depth discussion is found in 1 Corinthians 1:18-2:16. I commend the entire passage to you; here are a few excerpts:

1: 18 For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.  . . .  21 For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe.  22 For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom,  23 but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles,  24 but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.  . . .   27 But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong;  28 God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are,  29 so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.  30 And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption,  31 so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” . . . 2:14 The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned.

Note three points from this text and related passages. These points then lead to a few corollaries:

First, Scripture says that the truths it presents will be rejected – indeed, that those whose minds have not been renewed by the Spirit are not able to understand these truths (see especially 2:14). Put that idea in the context of the overall storyline of the Bible: God created mankind in His image as the pinnacle of His work, to glorify Him by enjoying Him forever. Yet the first man and the first woman rejected God’s purposes for them, choosing to believe Satan’s lie that God was withholding good from them. They chose to disbelieve God, and to establish themselves as the arbiters of what was in their own interest. They then deserved to be wiped out. All of their descendants normally born display that same rebellion. Yet God in His mercy established a plan of redemption which He implemented over the centuries, eventually sending His Son to live the life all men should have lived, and to die to pay the penalty we deserve for our rejection of Him. God raised Him from the dead, and will send Him again to usher in a new heavens and new earth, in which redeemed and perfected humanity will indeed glorify Him by enjoying Him forever.

In this interim period between the first and second coming of the Son, all mankind is stained by the Fall. Should we hear this story, should we read Scripture, we naturally reject it; we belittle it; we mock it. Unless God intervenes, our very thought processes are infected with a disease we do not notice that keeps us from seeing Truth.

This leads to a corollary: When a skeptic launches a broadside assault on Scripture, he is fulfilling Scripture. Now, clearly this corollary does not in and of itself prove that Scripture is true. But we must realize that attacks on scriptural authority are perfectly consistent with Scripture being true.

One more corollary of this first point: If we are to understand Scripture, we will have to come to God as supplicants, asking for His Spirit to open our minds, to clarify our vision, so that we might understand His Word.

Second point to note from 1 Corinthians 1 and 2:

b) God predominantly does not choose to renew by His Spirit the minds of the most intelligent of men. (see especially 1:27). He does renew the minds of some of the most intelligent (including the Apostle Paul himself). But God’s redeemed people are not exclusively or even on average from among those who, based on their worldly accomplishments and education, would be considered the brightest men and women on the planet. Paul tells us here why God works this way: So that no human being will have any grounds for boasting before Him (1:29). That is, so that no one might think, “God picked me because I was so smart. God needed me on His team. I have so much to contribute to His cause that God had to draft me.” No. God works in such a way that all of our boasting can be only in Him. Otherwise, we would be glorifying ourselves, not Him.

This leads to another corollary, but some personal information first: My undergraduate degree in mathematics is from Davidson; my PhD is from Stanford. Here’s the corollary: God is not impressed by a Davidson bachelors or a Stanford PhD. He doesn’t need me. He doesn’t need my intellectual abilities or my credentials. Indeed, no intellectual accomplishment is impressive to God. No intellectual accomplishment earns merit with God. Should He open my mind to see Him, the only reason will be His grace and mercy.

Third point: The wisdom of God is not intellectual only or primarily. The wisdom of God is fundamentally relational. Through His plan of redemption, God is reconciling men and women to Himself. Through Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross, God restores men and women to an intimate relationship with Him. So Paul says that Christ becomes to us not only wisdom, but also righteousness (granting us what we lost in the fall), sanctification (setting us apart for God Himself as His precious possession), and redemption (covering the relational distance necessitated by our rebellion) (1:18-24, 30).

This point also flows from the summary of the overall storyline of the Bible: Since God created us to glorify Himself by enjoying Him forever, His plan of redemption must restore the relationship, and not only enable us to appraise truth intellectually.

One final corollary: God is not and cannot be solely the object of our study. If the Bible is true, God is not an impersonal unmoved mover; He is not some abstract force or principle. He is personal. To know Him truly is to love Him deeply.

Similarly, my wife Beth is not and cannot be solely the object of my study. In order to be a good husband, I should learn all I can about her. But if I treat her as an object, I will fail miserably as a husband. My knowledge of her must lead to greater love and more effective service for her.

Just so, our knowledge of God must be relational – for it originates with His reaching out to us. He is the offended party. We are under His judgment. We owe Him everything – for life, for breath, for food, for shelter, for intelligence. We are not blank slates rationally looking at the evidence and deciding if Scripture reflects truth. If Scripture is true, we are rebels against Him, grasping at any straw we can find that will indicate, “I am in control; I am wise; I can forge my own path.” He graciously offers us His love and mercy; indeed, He graciously offers us Himself, a relationship with Him, for all eternity.

So consider those points from 1 Corinthians. Next week we’ll ask: Why did a Davidson math major and Stanford PhD submit himself to the authority of Scripture?

(For printing, download this pdf file.)

Traveling on God’s Road

Whose road are you on?

Scripture often compares life to traveling:

  • We are to take care how we walk (Ephesians 5:15), not walking in the counsel of wicked (Psalm 1:1);
  • men often judge a particular road to be right, but it leads instead to death (Proverbs 14:12);
  • when God’s people turn off of His road, He will call to them, “This is the way, walk in it!” (Isaiah 30:21).

Among the many other comparisons of life to a journey is Psalm 25:8-10. To help us in our American context to capture the sense, I’ll change all instances of “way” or “path” to “road:”

Good and upright is the LORD; therefore he instructs sinners in the road. He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble his road.  All the roads of the LORD are steadfast love and faithfulness, for those who keep his covenant and his testimonies.

Consider this image: You are driving down the highway of life. You think you know the right directions. You think you know the most desirable destination. You’ve packed your bags; you’ve filled up the tank; you’re on your way. But God’s GPS – that is, the Scriptures – instruct you: “You’re on the wrong road! Your directions are wrong; even your destination is wrong! This is not the road to life; this is not the road to joy; this is the road to everlasting pain and sorrow, to lack of fulfillment and lack of purpose, to eternal rebellion and loss.”

  • Will you say, “Oh, that old GPS! It’s outdated! It’s unaware of recent road improvements!”
  • Will you say, “Ha! Never rely on a GPS when you’ve got a brain! I know shortcuts no one else has even discovered!”
  • Will you say, “I know what destination will really give me joy, and no one else can possibly know better!”

Or will you humble yourself before God’s GPS?

How do we do that?

Isaiah 66:2 uses the same Hebrew word for “humble:”

This is the one to whom I will look: he who is humble and contrite in spirit and trembles at my word.

To be humble is to confess that we do not and cannot know the right road apart from God’s GPS, God’s Word, God’s Scripture. To be humble is to acknowledge that all His directions lead us on roads of lovingkindness, roads of covenant faithfulness, roads of joy, roads of life – even when they lead initially to hardship and persecution. To be humble is not to be “overly impressed by a sense of one’s self-importance” (as a major lectionary defines the Greek translation of the Hebrew word in Psalm 25).

In commenting on verse 9, Charles Spurgeon writes:

[The humble] know their need of guidance, and are willing to submit their own understandings to the divine will, and therefore the Lord condescends to be their guide. . . . Proud of their own wisdom, fools will not learn, and therefore miss their road to heaven.

So: Whose road are you on? Whose directions are you following?

God has given us His GPS. He tells us to drive on His roads. He knows what is around the corner, what is past the next town. The road may be potholed; the pavement may be cracked. But He promises that, whatever their appearance, all His roads are steadfast love and faithfulness.

Will you then humble yourself, and travel on His roads?

 

The Boston Marathon Horror: A Response

As I write, one alleged Boston Marathon bomber is dead; the other is on the run. Both, apparently, are Muslim; both have been in the US for more than a decade. The younger brother was an excellent, scholarship-winning student and captain of his high school’s wrestling team. The older brother was a boxer.

These young men grew up in schools and in communities like those around Charlotte. They played sports, they hung out with friends, they worked hard in school.

And then they attempted to commit mass murder.

How should we respond to this shocking tragedy?

Here are four biblical guidelines:

First: We all rightly long for justice. Our God is the moral authority in the universe. He will see to it that all sin are paid for, all wrongs duly punished. Vengeance is not in our hands as individuals (Romans 12:19). Our anger and bitterness and vitriol will not effect justice (James 1:20). In the present age, however, God has provided the government to act as His “servant, an agent of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer.” (Romans 13:4)

Second: Your prayers matter. In light of government’s heavy responsibility, the Apostle Paul instructs us:

I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. (1 Timothy 2:1-2)

So may we thank God for the hundreds of police who, right now, are tracking down the fugitive – many risking their lives. May we lift up civil servants and political leaders who make decisions about lockdowns and public transport and school closures. May we pray for judges and attorneys should the fugitive be captured and tried. And may this episode end with increased confidence throughout our nation that our authorities will act bravely and professionally to enable us to live peaceful and quiet lives.

Third: Life is fleeting. Lu Lingzi, Martin Richard, and Krystle Campbell woke up this Monday excited to watch friends and loved ones run the Marathon. They had plans for that evening, this weekend, and years into the future. And in a flash, murderers snuffed out their lives.

How long do I have in this world? How long do you? We have no idea. As James tells us:

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit” – yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.  Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.” As it is, you boast in your arrogance. All such boasting is evil (James 4:13-16).

James is not telling us to forget about plans for the future. Rather, we must live knowing that we are dependent, fragile creatures, living and breathing today by the mercy of God. Thus, we should live humbly before the eyes of our all-knowing, all-seeing, all-sovereign Lord, confessing that He knows best, and gladly subjecting ourselves to Him, for His glory.

Finally: Your light matters. The deceased alleged bomber wrote, “I don’t have a single American friend, I don’t understand them.” Note that he came to the US more than ten years ago. Yet Scripture instructs us:

When a foreigner lives with you in your land, you must not oppress him.  You must regard the foreigner who lives with you as the native-born among you. You are to love him as yourself, for you were foreigners in the land of Egypt; I am the LORD your God.  (Leviticus 19:33-34)

What might have happened if a follower of Christ had done unto Tamerlan Tsarnaev as he would that others do to him? How might lives have been changed if followers of Christ had been salt and light in this young man’s life?

And what might happen if you and I love the foreigners among us? If you and I reach out to those who have come to study, to those who have come because of war and chaos, to those who have come because of political oppression?

Our response to this tragedy must not be to shrink back into a fear of foreigners. Our Lord calls us to go, to be light and salt – so that others may see our good works and give glory to our Father in heaven (Matthew 5:16).

Through the sacrifice of our Lord Jesus, we are heirs of eternal life, entrusted with the message of God’s abundant mercy, to be proclaimed to all. May the horror of Boston compel us all the more to be His ambassadors, His heralds, holding out the word of life with love and compassion to all the peoples God has brought to Charlotte.

 

What Was Purchased on Good Friday

LOVE bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack’d anything.

‘A guest,’ I answer’d, ‘worthy to be here:’
Love said, ‘You shall be he.’
‘I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
I cannot look on Thee.’
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
‘Who made the eyes but I?’

‘Truth, Lord; but I have marr’d them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.’
‘And know you not,’ says Love, ‘Who bore the blame?’
‘My dear, then I will serve.’
‘You must sit down,’ says Love, ‘and taste my meat.’
So I did sit and eat.

George Herbert (1593-1633)

They All Left Him and Fled

And they all left him and fled (Mark 14:50).

Jesus fed thousands. So many gathered to hear Him, He had to leave the lakeshore and get in a boat to teach. A multitude welcomed Him to Jerusalem, shouting “Hosanna,” proclaiming Him as the fulfillment of the promise of a coming Son of David.

But now, after a show of force by the authorities, Jesus is alone. “They all left Him and fled.” All abandon Him. Not just the crowds. Not just those who saw miracles. But even those who have spent years at his side. Even those who have shared His bread. Even those He loved to the end. Even Peter, who only hours before proclaimed his faithfulness to Jesus until death. That faithfulness lasts only until a servant girl says she saw him with Jesus.

Only Jesus is faithful until death.

Something in us desires to be the hero. We all are tempted to say with Peter and the other disciples, “Even if I must die with you, I will never deny you” (Mark 14:31).

And whenever we try to be the hero, we fall flat on our faces – months or years later, if not (like Peter) that very day.

Only Jesus is the hero.

The Gospel is not the story of great men who do great deeds for God. The Gospel is not the story of heros of the Christian religion who, through tenacity, boldness, and strength conquer kingdoms and overcome evil. The Gospel is not the story of women of great insight and cleverness who outsmart evil oppressors.

The Gospel is the story of a holy and loving and faithful Trinitarian God: The Gospel is the story of God the Father planning and orchestrating all affairs of this world to display His character, His glory. The Gospel is the story of God the Son leaving His throne to become incarnate as Man, living the life God always intended for mankind, and then suffering and dying on the cross so that He might rise to be the first among many brothers. The Gospel is the story of God the Holy Spirit making alive hell-deserving sinners, opening their eyes to treasure God the Son, and empowering them to accomplish good works by faith for God’s glory.

By faith. That is, by looking away from their own abilities and limitations, by looking away from their strengths and their weaknesses, by looking away from themselves and their organizations, and leaning on God and His power to accomplish His purposes.

The Gospel is the story of man’s dependence and God’s independence, of man’s failures and God’s successes, of man’s moral bankruptcy and God’s moral integrity. The Gospel is about Jesus, not us; He must increase, and we must decrease.

Yet as we decrease in our egotistical self-confidence, something marvelous happens. His increase does not result in our fading into obscurity. As we walk by faith and not by sight, He increases, while we revel in our dependence. As we become poor in spirit and meek, we become heirs of the Kingdom; as we delight in His greatness and our weakness, we become the light of the world and the salt of the earth.

So as we consider over the next several days Jesus’ triumphal entry, His arrest, trial, beatings, and crucifixion, and as we rejoice in His resurrection, remember: The Gospel is all about Him. He is the center. Faith is a looking away from ourselves and what we have to offer. He paid the penalty. He rose from the dead. He is at the right hand of the Father. He always lives to make intercession for us. He sent the Holy Spirit to empower us. The Gospel is all about Him.

We must decrease. Praise God! We are dependent. Praise Jesus! We are children. Praise the Spirit! We are heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ. Amazing grace! Amazing love!

 

“We Want God!”

What are people longing for?

Consider the attention paid this week to the conclave of cardinals in Vatican City. Roman Catholics, of course, followed events closely. But interest in the selection of a new pope crosses Catholic/Protestant divisions, crosses secular/religious divisions. NPR, the New York Times, and the Washington Post highlighted the news from Rome; the Times of London and the Times of India headlined Pope Francis.

Why such interest?

Peggy Noonan, writing in the Wall Street Journal this week, suggests this interest reflects a longing:

After all the strains and scandals they still came running. A pope was being picked. The smoke came out and the crowd was there in St Peter’s Square. They stood in the darkness, cold and damp, and they waited and cheered and the square filled up. As the cameras panned the crowd there was joy on their faces, and the joy felt like renewal.

People come for many reasons. To show love and loyalty, to be part of something, to see history. But maybe we don’t fully know why they run, or why we turn when the first reports come of white smoke, and put on the TV or the computer. Maybe it comes down to this: “We want God.” Which is what millions of people shouted when John Paul II first went home to Poland. This is something in the human heart, and no strains or scandals will prevail against it.

“We want God.” Yes, and more: “We want to see people who have a real relationship with God. We want to encounter those who are not going through life amassing the greatest number of toys. We want to know that there are those who are neither hypocritical nor power-hungry. We want God – and we want to know those who truly follow Him.”

That longing exists among those around you: in Charlotte, in Concord, in Matthews, in Fort Mill, in Cornelius, in Davidson. That longing exists among your relatives, your friends, your colleagues.

So: When those with such a longing look at you, what do they see?

Do you look like you are pursuing comfort and ease? Do you look like someone who just goes through the motions of some religion to make good contacts and assuage your conscience?

Or do you look like – rather, are you truly – poor in spirit, mourning over sin and its effects, meek, hungering and thirsting for righteousness, merciful, and pure in heart?

Jesus says those who follow Him are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. Again and again He says, “You must not be like the hypocrites.” Rather, those around us are to see our good works, and give glory to our Father – for they see Him in and through us.

This longing – “We want God!” – is all around us. In many it is suppressed and hidden. In some it is on the surface and obvious. In others it may not be present at all. But as our Lord told the Apostle Paul about Corinth: “Do not be afraid, but go on speaking and do not be silent, for I am with you, and no one will attack you to harm you, for I have many in this city who are my people” (Acts 18:9-10).

He has many people in this city also. They have the longing. They don’t know the Savior. They have abandoned what they saw as a hypocritical church; or they have been hurt by overbearing pastors. They have seen that money and success don’t lead to joy; or they have seen that alcohol and drugs destroy their joy. They find their relationships crumbling; or they have spent decades in loneliness and isolation. They have seen the dead end of amusing themselves to death; or they have found that even good health and a big family and close friends don’t ultimately satisfy. From deep within they cry out, “We want God!” – but they don’t know where to find Him. They don’t know how to know Him.

So will you be salt and light? You have the answer! Jesus says the harvest is plentiful. Do you believe it?

Ask those around you about Good Friday, about Easter; ask about the selection of the new pope – if they were interested, and if so, why?  Ask if God were to do a miracle in their life, what would they like it to be? Offer to open up God’s Word in their home. Take the church to them – and see what God does.

Will you be rejected? Surely yes, by some. Will you be mocked, or even reviled? Our Savior says, “Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account” (Matthew 5:11).

Will you see the longing? Will you witness tears of repentance? Will you be present as God’s Spirit works to bring another into His Kingdom?

Step out. God will work. “We want God!” May they find Him through you.

 

The Compost Pile: An Analogy of Forgiveness and Forbearance in Marriage

[This article was originally written six years ago, when John Piper was preaching the series of sermons that eventually became This Momentary Marriage. The sermon referred to here was revised to become chapter 4 of the book. Beth and I use this document both in preparing couples for marriage, and in helping those who are dealing with marital problems.]

This last Sunday, John Piper continued his series on marriage, discussing forbearance and forgiveness. In conclusion, he relates an analogy he and his wife have found helpful. What follows is an edited transcription of that analogy; I’ll extend it with some additional thoughts afterwards:

The compost pile: Trying to pull together forbearance and forgiveness and all the things we’ve seen – I’m closing with the compost pile. Picture your marriage . . . as a grassy field. You enter it at the beginning full of hope and joy. You look out on the field and you see beautiful flowers and grass stretching and rolling hills and trees. . . . It is beautiful. You want to walk in this all your days. (The grass, the flowers, the hills, the sky, the warm breeze: [these represent] not what happens to you, [but] the relationship. . . . I’m describing the relationship). And on the wedding day, I want this woman, and I want this man, and we want to be together, to walk in the beautiful fields of green grass, and spring flowers, and trees, and hills, and bright sunshine and cool breezes. That’s the way [we think] it’s going to be. But before long, you step in a cow pie. And in some seasons of your marriage they seem to be everywhere: “This is not grass; this is just manure!” Late at night they become especially prevalent. . . . These [cow pies] are sins, flaws, idiosyncrasies, weaknesses, annoying habits in your spouse. And you try to forgive them and you try to forbear.

The problem is, they can tend to dominate the relationship. Everywhere you step, it smells. It may not be true that they’re everywhere; it just feels that way. I think the combination of forbearance and forgiveness leads to the creation of a compost pile. Here at the compost pile, you and your wife or husband begin to shovel cow pies into this pile. And you put a fence around it to hold them in. And you look at each other and you simply admit that there are a lot of cow pies, . . . [saying,] “You and I bring a lot of cow pies to this relationship.” And you say to each other, “You know, we’ve got to do this because [these cow pies are] all we’re thinking about. I mean, we’re looking for them to step in. So let’s get them and throw them in one place. Let’s throw them in a . . . compost pile. Compost can do some good. . . . When we have to, we will go there . . . and we’ll smell it, and we’ll feel bad and we’ll deal with it as best we can. Then, we’ll walk away from the pile . . . and we’ll set our eyes on the rest of field.” [This] is right at the heart of what I’m trying to say. Satan and our flesh can begin to take a few disappointments, a few frustrations, and multiply them so out of proportion that we think there is no green grass anywhere, there are no flowers anywhere, there are no trees, there are no hills, there is no sunshine – which is an absolute lie. And then we say to each other, “We’re going to walk away from that pile and set our eyes on the rest of the field, and we’re going to pick some favorite paths and hills that we know are not strewn with cow pies. And we’re going to be thankful that that part of the field . . . is sweet.” It may be a small part now, but that part is sweet.

Our hands may be dirty. And our backs may ache from all the shoveling. But we know one thing: We will not pitch our tent by the compost pile. . . . We won’t go live there. We won’t retreat there. We won’t lick our wounds there. . . . We will go there when we must. This is the gift of grace that we will give each other again and again and again. . . . Why? Because you and I are chosen and holy and loved.

This is covenant keeping. I recognize that I am a forgiven sinner. And, with eyes wide open, not eyes that are blind to her faults, I recognize that Beth is a forgiven sinner. Furthermore, I recognize that she and I are credited with the righteousness of Christ Himself. And so, having been forgiven much, and living with a forgiven sinner who has  Christ’s righteousness, I promise to pick up all the cow pies that she is responsible for that are strewn over the hills of our marriage, and carry them to the compost pile and leave them there. She promises to do the same.

That’s the promise. And that’s vital in marriage. It’s vital in any intimate Christian relationship.

But then a miracle happens. Have you ever had a compost pile? We keep vegetable scraps under our kitchen sink before carrying them out to the compost pile. And sometimes, if we’re slow to take out the buckets, they can smell putrid by the time we take them out. Even rinsing out the container can be a chore. It stinks! The compost pile smells rotten when you first dump the bucket on it. But if you add some dirt and leaves and mix it and turn it occasionally – after a few weeks, it no longer smells bad. Instead, it smells fresh. Deep. Earthy. And if you then take that compost and spread it over the grassy fields, the grass sucks up the nutrients, and thrives, and becomes deep and thick and luscious and green.

Just so in marriage. The compost created by all the forgiveness and forbearance represented in the pile deepens and enriches the marriage. You now grow wonderful grass in areas where, in the past, the hilltop was barren and bleak. You can now stop and rest – yes, you can enjoy – parts of your shared life that previously were messy and stinking and unapproachable. You can laugh at your former insensitivity and stand amazed at what God’s grace has done in your shared life through His Spirit’s enablement of forgiveness and forbearance. Oh, you will each continue to create cow pies. But your covenant is: “I will take these to the compost pile. And I believe that God will use these too to enrich, and not to make barren, our life.”

Will you make that covenant with your present – or future – spouse? Will you commit to forgiving and forbearing one another – to the glory of God? Will you practice covenant faithfulness?

That is my commitment to you: To model such faithfulness in my marriage, to seek forgiveness quickly when I do not, and to help you to live this out through opening up the Word. May God be pleased within DGCC to make us a people who forbear, who forgive – and who thus make wonderful, nourishing compost to the glory of God.