Be Careful What You Pray For

The Babylonians had come and gone. Though Jerusalem lay in ruins, those who were left in the land, and those who returned to the land from surrounding regions, sensed somewhat of a return to normality. A governor, Gedaliah, had been set in place by the conquering Chaldeans and, along with him, some semblance of order had been re-established. And, the daily, mundane tasks of working the land were once again their preoccupation as “they gathered wine and summer fruits in great abundance” (Jer. 40:12).

But then someone upset their apple cart. A foreign power sets their eye on the vulnerable land of the Jewish remnant. The governor is murdered. Violence returns to the land. Turmoil and uncertainty again greet every dawn as people wonder how are the Babylonians going to respond to their appointed governor being taken out? What to do?

Pray. Or, at least have Jeremiah pray for them.

[They] said to Jeremiah the prophet, “Let our plea for mercy come before you, and pray to the LORD your God for us, for all this remnant — because we are left with but a few, as your eyes see us — that the LORD your God may show us the way we should go, and the thing that we should do. . . . Whether it is good or bad, we will obey the voice of the LORD our God to whom we are sending you, that it may be well with us when we obey the voice of the LORD our God.”

(Jeremiah 42:2-6 ESV)

Seems simple enough. Jeremiah, we know you’re a prophet. Things have played out just as you, for years, have told us it would. Where we are now, is exactly where you said we’d be, though many refused to believe you. So now, we’re coming to you for another word from the LORD your God. Things are crazy around here. We need some guidance. Show us the way we should go, and the thing that we should do.

So Jeremiah prays. And the LORD his God answers. But it’s not the people wanted to hear. Be careful what you pray for.

They thought there should be a way to go. They were expecting to be given something we should do. Instead, the response is, “Stay where you are.”

[Jeremiah] said to them, “Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, to whom you sent me to present your plea for mercy before Him: If you will remain in this land, then I will build you up and not pull you down; I will plant you, and not pluck you up; for I relent of the disaster that I did to you. Do not fear the king of Babylon, of whom you are afraid. Do not fear him, declares the LORD, for I am with you, to save you and to deliver you from his hand. . . . The LORD has said to you, O remnant of Judah, ‘Do not go to Egypt.'”

(Jeremiah 42:9-11, 19a ESV)

And the people’s response? We’re going to Egypt!

When Jeremiah finished speaking to all the people all these words of the LORD their God, with which the LORD their God had sent him to them, . . . [they] said to Jeremiah, “You are telling a lie. The LORD our God did not send you to say, ‘Do not go to Egypt to live there’” . . . And they came into the land of Egypt, for they did not obey the voice of the LORD.

(Jeremiah 43:1-2, 7 ESV)

It really is an incredible story as you chew on it. Whatever the Lord says we will do, they say. Whether good or bad, they say, we will obey. But they were bluffing. They were so sure of their own wisdom and ways that, when God’s way was a different way, they responded, “No way!”

As they assessed the situation they thought that what the way to go, and the thing we should do, was a no-brainer. As they leaned on their own understanding, they were confident they understood what should be done. Head for the hills. Or, at least direct themselves towards the delta. Leave the uncertainty. Find a way out of the chaos. And what they really wanted when they asked Jeremiah to pray was to get some heavenly approval for their earthly thinking. But God said, “Don’t do it!” But they did it, anyhow.

And you sit back and think, “How dumb!” And then you think on it some more and you start to acknowledge, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.”

How often do we want out of our current circumstance? How often do we think we know the best way out? And then we “pray about it.” Not seeking God’s wisdom and way as much as we’re wanting God’s amen and approval. We start with, “God show me whatever’s the right thing to do.” But when it’s not our way we respond, effectively, “That’s what you want me to do? Whatever!”

Sometimes . . . maybe most times . . . it’s hard to stay put in a hard situation. It’s hard to trust that God is present and that His promises are still in play. It’s hard not to fear. It’s hard to believe that He will deliver us out of the trial someday when we think we know a way we can deliver ourselves today.

So be careful what you pray for. It could be hard.

But it will always be the right way to go and the right thing to do.

By His grace. For His glory.

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Faith Begets Faith

It was a faith journey.

To go to Jesus, in the first place, required faith. Sure, he was desperate–his son was ill and at the point of death. But he was also a man of some standing–an official in Herod’s court–and was likely mindful of what others, including his boss, might think. But to Jesus he went. Not because he had met Jesus or witnessed one of His miracles, but only because the Rabbi’s reputation preceded Him. The official believed what he had heard about Jesus and so he went to Him and asked Him to come to his place and heal His Son.

To walk away without Jesus at his side required a bit more faith. Whatever power the official believed Jesus had, he thought that power was tied to Jesus’ physical locality. That if Jesus was to heal his dying child in bed, Jesus would have to be standing next to his dying child in bed. But Jesus had responded to the official’s plea not with His presence but with His promise, “Go, your son will live.”

Decision time. To go, or to stay and plead even more for Jesus to go with him?

The man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him and went on his way.

(John 4:50b ESV)

After being met by his servants as he traveled home, and being told that his son was recovering, to ask the timing of when the boy started feeling better required some faith. I don’t think he inquired out of doubt or skepticism, but because he believed and took the opportunity to verify that the One he had put his faith in to save his family was worthy of such trust.

So he asked them the hour when he began to get better, and they said to him, “Yesterday at the seventh hour the fever left him.” The father knew that was the hour when Jesus had said to him, “Your son will live.” And he himself believed, and all his household.

(John 4:52-53 ESV)

And the mustard seed of faith that propelled the official to go to Jesus, grew as the official left without Jesus at his side, and grew even more as he connected his son’s healing with the Healer’s promise. So much so, that the Spirit leads John to record that he who had believed, “himself believed, and all his household.” The official’s faith grew firmer. And his faith spread further.

Belief begets belief. Faith forges greater faith. Trust teems from trust.

It’s a faith journey. Every unanticipated circumstance an opportunity to go to Jesus. Every unwanted situation a reason to ask Him for help in time of need. Every season of suffering a time to walk by faith, not by sight, and to test promises that are really true, and experience grace that is truly sufficient. Everything which requires us to exercise faith, a catalyst for the dynamic that begets more faith.

We ought always to give thanks to God for you, brothers, as is right, because your faith is growing abundantly . . .

(2Thessalonians 1:3a ESV)

“I believe; help my unbelief!”

(Mark 9:24 ESV)

By His grace. For His glory.

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Tested, Genuine Faith

Honestly, it takes faith to buy what Peter’s selling about faith, this morning. I have to believe what Peter says about belief. I have to trust that what he says about trust is true. That it’s more precious than gold.

And what makes it hard, quite frankly, is that Peter’s not talking about just any kind of faith. We’re not talking fanciful faith here–faith that thinks good thoughts, sends well wishes, and hopes for a brighter day. And we’re not talking about fickle faith–faith that’s on and off like a light switch. Nor are we talking about faltering faith–faith that, when the going gets tough, it’s outta here!

Instead, the faith Peter says is more precious than gold is tested, genuine faith.

In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith — more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire — may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

(1Peter 1:6-7 ESV)

I’m all about faith. It’s how I was saved (Eph. 2:8). It’s the assurance of things hoped for (Heb. 11:1). It’s at the core of the gospel’s power and what the righteous are to live by (Rom.1:16-17). It’s how I please God (Heb. 11:6). But does it have to be tested, genuine faith? Apparently.

A trustworthy faith because it’s a proven faith. A steadfast faith because it’s a tried faith. A faith that stands up to the heat of life because it’s acquainted with the crucibles of life. More precious than gold because, just like gold, the more it is “tested by fire”, the purer and more valuable it becomes. And faith sets us up for forever while gold will eventually perish.

But really, who’s looking to be tested by fire? Honestly, again, not me.

Who likes being grieved, even if it is only “now for a little while”? Because that “little while” is in contrast to an eternity to come. Our entire lives on earth are only “a little while” compared to what’s before us. So, really, being “grieved by various trials” might be more the norm than the exception for us “elect exiles” (1Pet. 1:1) until we get home.

And why does it have to be “various trials”? Why a diverse array of different ways to prove that our faith is really real? Why not one and done? Couldn’t we just pass one test, prove the faith, and then settle in on easy street? Apparently not.

Peter says, “Rejoice, even if you are being made to sorrow through manifold trials. For it’s proving you have genuine faith.” Like that’s really what we should want–genuine faith. I gotta believe that about belief.

And the other thing about tested, genuine faith? It will be recognized when the Master returns. It will be the basis for His, “Well done!” when He assesses our manner of living and laboring for Him while He was away. Every instance of faith that stood the test will be acknowledged and receive its reward. And when we receive His praise, He gets all the glory.

So I need to believe that that’s the way belief works. To have faith that the faith the fiery furnace produces will reveal that I really am not alone (Dan. 3:23-35). And that His grace really is sufficient and His power really is made known in my weakness (2Cor. 12:9).

Then, by faith, I can persevere, even through trial after trial, because I trust that He really is “able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of His glory with great joy” (Jude 24).

Who knows? Maybe I’ll even learn to rejoice through various trials because I truly desire a tested, genuine faith.

Only by His grace. Only for His glory.

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The Great Reveal

We read the account (John 4:1-26), and we know that it was an encounter of the divine kind. But you gotta think that, as she experienced it, the conversation seemed a little strange.

That there was even a conversation happening was weird. He was obviously a Jewish man. She was unmistakably a Samaritan woman. That He spoke to her was way unusual. That, out of the blue, He asked her for water was unexpected. But forget the water, she was still trying to get her head around why He would even speak to her (v.9).

But then, He changes the subject. Instead, He says, she should be asking Him for water–even more unheard of, that a Samaritan woman would approach a Jewish man and ask him to serve her. And not just any water, but living water. Water that would become in her “a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (v.14).

Intriguing, to say the least. But still weird. Jewish man with no bucket saying to Samaritan woman with bucket, “Ask me for water and you’re gonna get eternal life.” But hey, how could she resist? As far-fetched as it sounds, you gotta take a shot.

So she asks. And rather than some hocus pocus appearance of magic water which forever vanquishes her thirst, He changes the subject yet again. “Go call your husband and come here!” (v.16).

Whaaat?!?!? Okay, now this is getting personal. Why would He go there? Why probe her love life? Time to end this conversation.

But she can’t. She’s hooked. She is so taken by this Man that, rather than walk away, she engages–even if she needs to play a semantics game. And as they talk, she knows that this is a conversation unlike any she’s ever known because this Man is unlike any man she has ever known. She knows that she is standing in the presence of Someone who knows things that only someone sent of God knows, for he was a Man “who told me all that I ever did” (v.29a).

So now she changes the subject, “Oh, you’re a prophet. Let’s talk about religion and right worship. We have differing views you know?” And so they talk, or rather, He talks, and she listens. But she’s not quite willing to concede He’s right, yet. For in doing that she’d have to also admit she is less than a virtuous woman. And that would bring her back to whether or not He had eternal life to offer. So, once more, she tries to divert the conversation . . .

The woman said to Him, “I know that Messiah is coming (He who is called Christ). When He comes, He will tell us all things.” Jesus said to her, “I who speak to you am He.”

(John 4:25-26 ESV)

The beating around the bush is done. Speaking in word pictures is finished. “You’re looking for Messiah?” says the Man. “I who speak to you AM.”

What was that moment like? As her brain tried to process what her ears had heard? As she stared into eyes that stared into hers–somehow knowing that they were able to see deep into her soul? As her heart pounded in her chest because she knew it had been laid bare before Someone who was all-knowing? As she tried to make sense of this Jewish man, who had engaged this Samaritan woman, declaring, “I AM Messiah!”

If I’m a movie director shooting this scene it’s time to strike up the band. Zoom in for a close up. Pull out whatever cinematic tricks I have up my sleeve to help everyone watching know this is the climax of the story. This is the great reveal!

I sit back and I chew on what it must have been like for her to hear those words, “I am the Messiah.”

Could it be true? And, if it was, why would He determine to engage her, of all people, and make Himself known to her? Didn’t He know what type of person she was? Oh yeah, He did. Then maybe His offer of living water springing up to eternal life had substance to it. Pretty sure. And then, if God really longed for people to worship Him in spirit and truth . . . and the Spirit had just shown her the Truth . . . shouldn’t she be worshiping? Probably.

What privilege. What blessed, mind-blowing, life-changing privilege. For Messiah to humble Himself and come into a mere mortal’s world, reveal Himself, offer eternal life, and bring that person to saving faith. A privilege this guy in this chair, and all who have had a similar encounter of the divine kind, have known.

Circumstances might be different. Storylines might be unique. But, in some way, at some point, Jesus revealed Himself to each of us in like manner.

“I AM. I am the Promised One. Come to expose sin. Come to atone for sin. Come to offer forgiveness for sin. Come to bring living water leading to eternal life.”

That’s the great reveal.

Isn’t it?

By His grace. For His glory.

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A Catalyst for Patience

Longanimity. I’ve never come across the word before, until this morning. Used in one of my online lexicons to give the sense of a word found in one of my readings this morning. A 15th century English word which once served to describe what James had in mind when he encouraged his readers to “be patient.”

Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the coming of the Lord. . . . You also, be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand. . . . behold, the Judge is standing at the door.

(James 5:7-9 ESV)

Be patient. Be of a long spirit. Do not lose heart. Keep on keepin’ on, despite trials and suffering. Show longanimity.

Patience. Longsuffering. We might be able to muster up some of it in certain trials, but the extraordinary calm that James is talking about here is something that transcends mere human determination or discipline through prolonged seasons of taking it in the teeth. It’s evidence of the Spirit’s active agency in someone’s life (Gal. 5:22).

And what’s of particular note for me this morning is the catalyst that primes the pump from which flows rivers of Living Water (John 7:38-39) which enables us to hang in there during times of trouble. That catalyst for patience? The coming of the Lord.

Three times James makes reference to the imminent return of the Lord Jesus. Not only did James say He was coming back, but that His coming was “at hand”, and that He, who would judge all things and make all things right, was “standing at the door.” And that heavenly perspective, evidently, can have a profound impact on a believer’s earthly endurance.

Since the day He left, Jesus’ follower have lived with the expectation of His return.

And when [Jesus] had said these things, as they were looking on, He was lifted up, and a cloud took Him out of their sight. And while they were gazing into heaven as He went, behold, two men stood by them in white robes, and said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw Him go into heaven.”

(Acts 1:9-11 ESV)

They believed He could be back in their lifetime. They really thought He’d be back at anytime.

That’s how Jesus set them up to live. Before He left, Jesus told His followers to be ready, and to live with the anticipation that the Master would return on a day when they did not expect Him and at an hour they did not know (Matt. 24:44, 500).

And they believed Him. As such, their faith would fuel their longanimity. The promise of His return, at any moment, could produce a patient that would sustain them for a lifetime.

We are to be longsuffering. Just as He is longsuffering. While it might seem He is slow to fulfill His promised return, He delays “not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance” (2Pet. 3:9). His grace continuing to call the lost to Himself. His grace continuing to sustain the found until He comes again. Be patient.

Jesus is coming again. His coming is at hand. He stands at the door.

Perhaps today the door will swing open and the Master will return.

As the Bride who looks longingly for her Bridegroom says, “Come!” . . . through the power of the indwelling Spirit who says, “Come!” (Rev. 22:17) . . . be patient.

By His grace. For His glory.

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Come Into the Light

It was kind of a bottom-line thing for John–or rather, for God, who spoke through John by the Holy Spirit. The tell-tale, spiritual indicator as to when the heart of sin, rebellion, and disbelief is at play. Pretty simple to recognize, it seems.

“And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed.” ~ Jesus

(John 3:19-20 ESV)

In our natural condition, we love the darkness. We love the place where we think we’re hidden and our thoughts and actions unknown. There’s freedom when we think no one’s looking. An absence of stress when we’ve convinced ourselves that what happens behind closed doors stays behind closed doors.

But Jesus’s entrance into our world reminds us that, with God, there are no closets to hide in. Light has come into the world.

Jeremiah, in my reading there this morning, declared to those who thought they could play in darkness back then, that our God, the LORD of hosts, is He who “tests the righteous” and “sees the heart and the mind” (Jer. 20:12). Jesus’ incarnation was the physical reminder of that unseen reality. God sees the heart and the mind. Light has come into the world.

Thinking this morning about how much we still prefer the darkness, the place where we somehow fool ourselves into believing things remain hidden. Thoughts, attitudes, actions–all of which we think that, if we keep them to ourselves, then they’re somehow okay. No harm, no foul, if they’re thought, nurtured, or done where, we think, no one hears or sees them.

But our God sees the heart and the mind. And our God has come into the world to remind us of that. And, if we’re honest with ourselves (sounds like a coming out of darkness thing), we know it’s better to live in the light than try to and run from it.

So what if we let the Light in? Like, let Him fully in?

And what if we were to come to the Light? As in, practicing transparency with every thought we think we think in secret, every attitude we harbor because no one knows, every action we take because we’ve kidded ourselves into believing that no one sees? Better? I’m thinking.

“But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.” ~ Jesus

(John 3:21 ESV)

We were created, and then, through the work of the cross, re-created, to be creatures of light. And, we know our thoughts, actions, and attitudes are consistent with the Light when we are willing to bring them into the light.

Oh, that the light of the word would reveal the darkness. That the Light of the world would give us freedom to walk in open, transparent places.

Because the Light has exposed the darkness. Has paid the price for what is done in the darkness. Has given us the Power to shed ourselves of the darkness. Has enabled us, through the life of the Light that lives in and through us, to do works in God which are pleasing to God.

Light has come into the world. Let us come into the Light.

By His grace. For His glory.

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Zeal for the House

It was a Passover to remember. I don’t think there’s any way His followers saw what was about to happen.

They go up to Jerusalem with Jesus, enter the temple courts, and things pretty much look and sound like they always look and sound at this time of year. Oxen lowing, sheep bleating, pigeons cooing, money-changers clanking their coins, and the din of crowds milling about looking for a good deal on an offering that they know is being peddled at extortionate prices.

The sacrifice business had become a big business. Passover pilgrims appreciated the convenience of not having to set aside their own sacrifices in advance of coming to worship. And the manic merchants appreciated the opportunity to turn a profit at the expense of convenience minded worshipers. Yup! Just another busy, pre-Passover day in the house of God.

Until it wasn’t . . .

And making a whip of cords, [Jesus] drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and oxen. And He poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables. And He told those who sold the pigeons, “Take these things away; do not make my Father’s house a house of trade.” His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for Your house will consume Me.”

(John 2:15-17 ESV)

I sit back and try to imagine what it must have been like when Jesus cleaned house. Not just the chaos and cacophony of animals being stampeded, tables being uplifted, and coinage being scattered all over the ground, but the shock that came over not only sellers and money-changers and consumers, but the followers of Jesus, as well. Who were they following and what was possessing Him?

But then they remembered that it was written (I underline that in light blue colored pencil–my marking for the Holy Spirit). A scripture comes to mind from their past. A part of a verse in Psalm 69. Don’t know if they knew it was Messianic in nature before, but somehow they knew it applied to this Man they followed now–the One they had identified as Messiah (Jn 1:41), the One they believed Moses and the prophets had written about (Jn. 1:45), the One they followed as the King of Israel (Jn. 1:49).

And their King demonstrated an over-the-top, passion-filled protection for His Father’s house.

Zeal consumed Him. His indignation reached a flash point and it devoured Him. He saw what was being done on the holy hill and He went from zero to sixty almost instantaneously, defending the place where the glory should dwell . . . not where the greedy should sell.

And I think about the zeal our Lord had for His Father’s house and this comes to mind:

In Him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.

. . . you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices

(1 Peter 2:5, Ephesians 2:22 ESV)

Is it too much a stretch to say that we, as the church, are the Father’s house? A dwelling place for the glory of God by the Spirit ? A spiritual house where we are not only a living temple made of living stones, but also, as the priesthood, ministering in that temple? What’s more, where we also assume the role of worshiper, offering our spiritual sacrifices? I’m thinkin’ not?

If so, then is it too much to think that Jesus’ zeal for this living house of God is any less than His zeal was on that Passover day? And that maybe our zeal for the Father’s house–the family of God, the Bride of Christ–should mimic that of our Lord’s. I’m thinkin’ so!

Father, forgive us for doing stuff in Your house that should not be done. That diminishes Your place of worship by making it a marketplace for those who would peddle religion and those who would desire but to consume it.

Jesus, give us zeal for the Father’s house that we would keep it clean. That we would keep it focused. That it would be a holy place as the Father is holy.

Spirit, bring to remembrance all that the house is meant to be. Give us the mind of the Son that we might be the living stones, the holy priesthood, and the acceptable sacrifices the Father is worthy of.

By Your grace. For Your glory.

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Changing Our Spots

Our salvation is more than just some tweak. More than just an adjustment or some fine-tuning. It isn’t about taking something that was already pretty good and making it better. Rather, it is about radical transformation. So radical, in fact, that apart from divine intervention, left to the laws of nature, it just wouldn’t happen.

That’s what I’m chewing on this morning as I hover over a verse in Jeremiah.

Can the Ethiopian change his skin or the leopard his spots? Then also you can do good who are accustomed to do evil.

(Jeremiah 13:23 ESV)

The people of Judah and their sin were inseparable. So deep was the stain of sin that marked them that it was as permanent as their skin color, as intricately woven into their DNA as the spots on a leopard. Their pride, rebellion, and idolatry so deeply ingrained that no amount of effort could transform their innate desire for evil into an active pursuit of holiness. They were powerless to work the transformation needed for their reformation or restoration.

It brings Romans to mind:

. . . as it is written: “None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God. All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one.” . . . for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.

(Romans 3:10-12, 23 ESV)

That’s who we were. No righteousness. No understanding. No seeking. Going our own way. Of no eternal value whatsoever. No good. Not even a little. Not even one. Those were our spots. Unchangeable, despite our greatest desires and our best efforts to be otherwise.

But now the righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the law, although the Law and the Prophets bear witness to it — the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe.

(Romans 3:21-22 ESV)

But . . . what a glorious word, the word but.

But now the righteousness of God has been revealed. Not just some spot remover, but a spot replacer. Not just cleaning up the outside, but actually converting the inside. Rewired. Our spiritually darkened DNA swapped out and replaced with Another’s.

We are people whose spots have been changed. Not changed as in prettied up, but changed as in overthrown . . . turned on its head . . . transformed.

Changed not because of anything we have done, or could ever do. But our spots changed by faith alone in the Person and finished work of the Son of God alone.

New creations in Christ (2Cor. 5:17). Once dead in trespass and sin, now made alive in truth and spirit. Without stain or spot.

Not some tweak, but a glorious transformation.

Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Because of grace. For His glory.

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Holders of the Faith

It’s sin. To show partiality is sin. To regard one person as more esteemed simply because of their high socio-economic status, and ignore another because their not so high socio-economic status is partiality–and that’s sin. To pamper the rich and brush aside the poor is wrong. And James says to his brothers (and sisters), “Don’t do it!” Rather, James says, fulfill the royal law, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (James 2:1-8).

And I get it. I’m pickin’ up what James is laying down. I understand the “to do.” I underline it as a command to obey.

But what captures my attention this morning, beyond the what of the command, is the why.

My brothers, show no partiality as you hold the faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory.

(James 2:1 ESV)

As believers, we hold the faith. That’s what I’m noodling on this morning.

Not only have we believed the truth, but now we possess the truth. The conviction of belief results in a carrying of that belief. Having received it, we are now responsible for it. What was once simply regarded as our salvation, continues to be our stewardship. We are holders of the faith.

What we do becomes the commentary on what we believe. Because we are holders of the faith, when we show partiality, or we discriminate, or we fail to recognize all men and women as created in the image of God, it says something about the gospel we say we trust in. That while it may be the power of God for salvation (Rom. 1:16), it’s not the power for everyone. That the good news is only good news for some, making distinctions based on external factors. Like whether someone is rich or poor. And we know that’s not true.

Listen, my beloved brothers, has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom, which He has promised to those who love Him?

(James 2:5 ESV)

“Those who love Him”, not those who have a hefty balance in their bank account, that’s who God’s chosen. They’re the ones counted rich in faith and worthy of the kingdom.

Not only do our actions represent what we believe in, but they also reflect on Who we believe in. If we have been born of God, if we are being conformed into His image, and make arbitrary distinctions among people, then musn’t our God do so also? But we know that’s not true either.

There will be tribulation and distress for every human being who does evil, the Jew first and also the Greek, but glory and honor and peace for everyone who does good, the Jew first and also the Greek. For God shows no partiality.

(Romans 2:9-11 ESV)

We are holders of the faith. That’s it. Our default position. That’s part of the deal. Part of what we became when we believed.

Sounds kind of heavy if you chew on it a bit. Brings to mind Paul’s question, “Who is sufficient for these things?” (2Cor. 2:16).

Short answer: We are! Because we are those who steward the faith under the law of liberty.

So speak and so act as those who are to be judged under the law of liberty.

(James 2:12 ESV)

The law of liberty. The law that tells us not only what to do, but gives us the power to do it. The law that not only models the right stuff but mediates when we fall short. That not only reveals when we fail but has provided the means, through the atoning work of the cross, for our forgiveness.

We can embrace being holders of the faith because of the faith that holds us. Our sufficiency found in His sufficiency. Our ability the outworking of His indwelling presence. Imitators of God through abiding in the Son.

Holders of the faith. Who is sufficient? We are!

By His grace. For His glory.

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The Implanted Word

While it’s been freely given to us, we still need to receive it. Though we’ve got it, we still need to do something with it. While it’s true that it came with our being born again, it’s also true that, in order to be saved, we must activate it.

What is it? It is the implanted word.

Therefore put away all filthiness and rampant wickedness and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls.

(James 1:21 ESV)

I pull out my purple colored pencil and underline the verse. It’s a command to obey. Put away and receive.

But I’m struck by the fact that I am exhorted to receive something which has already been implanted. To take hold of something that is, literally, inborn. And I wonder afresh at the divine dynamic associated with the Word of God.

When I believed, the law of God was put within me; it was written on my heart (Jer. 31:33). When, by faith, I was adopted as a child of God, the Spirit of God entered, and along with Him, access to the thoughts of God (1Cor. 2:11-12). Access to the mind of God enabled by the Spirit of God, and that, through the implanted word of God.

When we taste and see that the Lord is good (Ps. 34:8), it should create a hunger for more (Matt. 5:6). Having first sipped from the wells of living water, a thirst should emerge which drives us to want to drink deeply of the water Jesus said He would provide. Water that would forever quench whatever thirst we might know. Water which would overflow to the point that it would become within us “a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (Jn. 4:13-14). The implanting of the word seeding the divine dynamic of pursuing the word.

And it is this rooted word that is able to save our souls. Having already been saved by faith from the penalty of sin, we are continually being saved, by appropriating and obeying the implanted word, from the power of sin. We receive the implanted word and, through the indwelling Spirit’s active agency of renewing of our minds, it transforms our lives (Rom. 12:2).

As we determine, only through His divine enabling, to become “doers of the word, and not hearers only” (James 1:22), we increasingly become imitators of Christ, and not just knowledge bearers of God. Having been freely granted a holy standing before God through the finished work of the cross, we should increasingly see a holy reality emerging in the lives we live before God because of the inborn word of the gospel.

But James also points out that there are barriers to the implanted word flourishing. Sin and pride.

Thus, we must put away all that which would defile, and reject all the evil our world is trying to tell us is good. And, we must deal with the self thoughts that would deceive us into thinking that our ways are higher than His ways. To recognize and confess the arrogance within us that causes us to say, in effect, that while He may have gifted us with the implanted word, we’ll still have the last word. Instead, with meekness–with humility and a disposition of gentle deference–we are to receive it. To take hold of it. To submit to it. To do it.

Thank God for the implanted word.

Might its roots go ever deeper that its fruit might be increasingly sweeter.

Only by His grace. Always for His glory.

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