The Works of God Displayed in Him

Had he known, would it have made it any easier to endure? If his parents had seen the plan for their son’s life, would it have lessened the extra weight of caring for a child without sight or helped to release their grip on the hopes and aspirations they may have had for him? Had they been told that eventually there would be an encounter of the divine kind, would it have been worth it all?

As [Jesus] passed by, He saw a man blind from birth. And His disciples asked Him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

(John 9:1-3 ESV)

Kind of a weird question from the disciples. Almost karma like. That somehow there must be some spiritual cause-and-effect dynamic at play if a man is born blind. That either God knew he would do something later in life that warranted advance punishment, or that his parents were getting a cosmic slap on the wrist they must have deserved for something. But you can’t really judge the disciples too harshly. Who hasn’t known the propensity to ask “why” when seemingly unfair stuff happens?

But Jesus replies, “Neither.” It’s not that he was saying the man or his parents were without sin, “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:23). Instead, He said that there was no transcendent correlation between their iniquity and the man’s inability to see. Rather, his blindness was so that the works of God might be displayed in him. That the Light of the world might be manifest through his darkness (9:4-5). That divine power might be made known through difficult circumstances.

So . . . if, when their son was born, the man’s parents had been told by an angel that God would eventually touch his eyes and give him sight, would it have made it any easier? If the man born blind had heard a voice from heaven when he was young telling Him that one day He would physically feel the touch of God and come away seeing, would it have been worth it all? What’s the price one’s willing to pay in order to come face-to-face with Deity . . . even Deity you can’t see?

Who wouldn’t want to experience God? To hear His voice? To feel His presence? To know His touch? To come away fundamentally rewired and changed? But what if it means some darkness before the light. Valleys before the mountain tops? Testing before tasting and seeing that He is good? What are we willing to endure in order that the works of God might be displayed in us?

Paul’s words come to mind :

Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

(2Corinthians 12:8-10 ESV)

Yeah, I think had they known, it might have been easier. To live in the expectation that, one day, the power of Christ would rest upon their son, would have put their current sorrow in the context of a sure promise and a future hope. To go through each dark day believing the revelation that he would soon behold marvelous light, would have helped the man born blind to keep on keepin’ on.

. . . for we walk by faith, not by sight.    (2Corinthians 5:7 ESV)

So that the works of God might be displayed in us.

By His grace. For His glory.

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The Day of Eternity

Why these things pop on the radar, I don’t know. Well, actually I think I do, it’s the supernatural dynamic of illumination–the active agency of the Holy Spirit.

I’m hovering over a four word phrase I have never taken note of before. For many years, because it didn’t appear in the Bible translation I was reading. Then, it was just a single word found many times in the New Testament, the word “forever.” But for the past 7 years the ESV has been my translation of choice, and though I’ve read this phrase many times over those years, I don’t think I’ve ever really seen this phrase. Perhaps because it resides in the shadow of a much more familiar part of Scripture.

But this morning it pops. This morning it captures my attention and my imagination. This morning I’m chewing on “the day of eternity.”

You therefore, beloved, knowing this beforehand, take care that you are not carried away with the error of lawless people and lose your own stability. But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To Him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. Amen.

(2Peter 3:17-18 ESV)

The day of eternity. Only time this phrase is found in the Scripture. Like I said, other translations render this combo of Greek words as “forever.” But looks like it’s more accurately translated as “the day of forever” or, the day of eternity.

Strikes me as a bit of an oxymoron, at first. What is it? A day? Or eternity? Yes!

And then, I consider there’s a sense in which we have already begun to live for forever. While our bodies are temporal, our souls are eternal. Our time on earth but the preparatory ground for our “untime” in eternity. What we do with Christ now dictating how we experience eternity on that day. To confess Him as Lord while we have breath, and to receive His finished work on the cross as payment for our great debt from sin now, allowing us to live in the promise of abiding in His presence forever. To reject Him now, a decision to suffer apart from Him forever.

And then, as believers, determining, while we can, to build on the foundation of our salvation and invest in the kingdom, in the sure hope of realizing the eternal return of treasure stored up for us in heaven. But to play games with our calling now, to not live for the King, will be to have our earthly efforts burned up, to suffer loss, yet still to be saved “but only as through fire” (1Cor. 3:11-15). So yes, we are, in a sense, living now for eternity.

But this morning, I’m reminded that there is coming a day –the day of eternity. That there will be a starting point when “now” becomes “then.” When our context for life will shift from being acutely aware of the temporal to being consumed by the eternal. When we’ll forget about time, have no need of a calendar, no longer be concerned about planning for retirement (or wondering how we’ll get through retirement), and have no desire to consider what legacy we might leave. Because then, in that day, we ain’t leaving! It will be time without end. The day of eternity.

How different will that day be? I can only imagine.

So knowing this beforehand, writes Peter, take care! Don’t be carried away by the world’s allure and the error perpetuated by lawless people. Stand fast, and hold tightly to the truths and promises you have come to know and believe.

And grow. Grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Don’t stagnate. Don’t settle for autopilot. But grow.

And that, for His glory.

For His glory now. For His glory at the day of eternity. For His glory throughout eternity.

Amen.

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The Predictions and The Commandments

It’s a myth. Not true. Not the way things really work. Don’t listen to popular, prevailing wisdom that says there’s a danger that we can become so heavenly minded that we’re no earthly good. That somehow the things of heaven and earth aren’t tied together, and that to overly focus on the one is to become ineffectual in the other. Uh-uh, . . . not having it.

It’s the father of lies who would have us believe that all we need to do is concentrate on maximizing our experience “here and now” and leave whatever “there and then” there might be to look after itself when we get to it. Instead, some of the most practical advice Paul ever dished out was to set our minds on things above, and not on things that are on the earth (Col. 3:2). And Peter, as he continues to stir up his readers, would say the same thing.

This is now the second letter that I am writing to you, beloved. In both of them I am stirring up your sincere mind by way of reminder, that you should remember the predictions of the holy prophets and the commandment of the Lord and Savior through your apostles . . .

(2Peter 3:1-2 ESV)

This morning, I’m chewing on the connection between remembering the predictions and obeying the commandments. Between the promises of God and how they can influence the practices of His people. Between thinking on the future and how that impacts acting in the present. It’s what’s called living in the anticipation of the imminent return of Christ.

If I really believe that, just as the prophets predicted, Christ could come again at any moment, then I don’t want to be found snoozing at wheel. At the Master’s return, I won’t want to be found unengaged in His work for the kingdom, with my talents buried, not invested, with little or no return. Instead, I will heed His command to “Occupy, until I come” (Luke 19:13 KJV).

If I truly am a joint-heir with Christ, and there really is “an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you” (1Peter 1:4), then I’m going to be less concerned with storing up treasure on earth, “where moth and rust destroy”, and all about listening to His encouragement to lay up treasures in heaven. And where my treasure is, there my heart will be also (Matt. 6:19-21).

If there is, in fact, coming a day when I am going to be face-to-face with the Son of God, the living Word, the eternal Creator, than I am motivated to leverage all the supernatural enabling He has graced me with to live out my natural life according to His will so that, on that day, I might hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” And that, for the glory of God alone.

If, what God has prepared for His people is but a fragment of what I imagine as I read the prophets’ description of it, then truly “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Rom. 8:18).

Believing the predictions, is what compels us toward obeying the commandments. To the degree that we are heavenly minded, we are earthly motivated. To taste even a bit of our future, is to want to live life to the full in the present.

Therefore, since all these things will be dissolved, what manner of persons ought you to be in holy conduct and godliness, looking for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be dissolved, being on fire, and the elements will melt with fervent heat? Nevertheless we, according to His promise, look for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells.

(2Peter 3:11-13 ESV)

Because we look for a new place, we live for a new place. Because we know this world is passing away, we don’t become to attached to it. Because we know He has said He is going to prepare a place for us and will come again for us (Jn. 14:3), and we know His promises are true, we seek now, by His grace and through His Spirit, to live in a manner worthy of our calling.

Oh, that we might be MORE heavenly minded so that, through our obedience to His commands, we might reflect something of that which is truly, and eternally, good.

By His grace. For His glory.

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In the Midst

Dead to rights. No escaping. Positively guilty. She had been caught in the act. And now they were hoping that He would be, as well.

She had been busted playing loose with morals. They were pretty sure He’d be tripped up playing loose with Moses. They thrust her into the center of the ring because of licentiousness, they were anticipating Him crashing and burning because of the law–they didn’t thing He’d be true to it. She had nowhere to hide, and He had no desire to hide.

But what these accusers didn’t anticipate–what was beyond their wildest imagination–was what happens when a sinner finds themselves in the midst of the Savior.

Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. Early in the morning He came again to the temple. All the people came to Him, and He sat down and taught them. The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and placing her in the midst they said to Him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” This they said to test Him, that they might have some charge to bring against Him. . . Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.”

(John 8:1-6, 10-11 ESV)

The scribes and the Pharisees had sought only to use her as bait. They weren’t really concerned about dealing with her transgression or upholding God’s perfect law. What they really wanted was to trap Jesus. To discredit Him. To stop the momentum of His ministry. To break up the growing following that were gathering to Him as He taught those with hears to hear “as one who had authority, and not as their scribes” (Mt. 7:29).

They orchestrated the sting for maximum dramatic effect. Waiting till Jesus was again in the temple. Waiting till He was seated (8:2). And then they burst into His ad hoc classroom and thrust the wanton women before everyone to behold. Talk about an uncomfortable situation. They maximized her shame while shining the full glare of the spotlight on the Teacher, “What are going to do with her!”

Dead to rights. Under the law a no-brainer. But before the Prince of Life, a glorious teaching opportunity.

“For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through Him.” ~ Jesus

(John 3:17 ESV)

And thus, this woman enveloped in the chains of darkness, finding herself suddenly in the midst of the Author of Light, hears Him say, “Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more.”

And while we could engage in much speculation as to what Jesus might have wrote in the dust for the woman’s accusers to read, or much contemplation as to why, “beginning with the older ones”, the lynch mob quietly walked away, what I’m chewing on this morning is how a sinning one can leave the presence of the Sovereign One without condemnation.

There is therefore now no condemnation
for those who are in Christ Jesus.    (Romans 8:1 ESV)

To be sure, she was guilty. But He had come to bear her judgment. Like a sheep, she was lost. But as the Good Shepherd, He had come that she might be found. She didn’t have the resources to be good enough, but He could meet her greatest need with grace enough. Having lived her whole life in a world of darkness, He would translate her into His marvelous kingdom of light.

In many ways, it was a match made in heaven.

That’s what happens when a broken sinner finds themselves in the midst of a loving Savior.

Kind of like my story. Kind of like our story.

Such is the ever amazing wonder of grace. To Him be all the glory.

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A Gospel Paradox

Peter wrote to stir up his readers (2:13). He wanted to arouse their thinking, to wake them up from any spiritual slumber. And so he comes out of the gate with, what seems to me, is a bit of a brain twister. As I sit quietly and chew on the first chapter of Peter’s second letter, I’m noodling on what appears to be a gospel paradox.

Read the opening verses of 2 Peter and the gospel elements are all there. Our standing before God is solely because of the righteousness of Christ credited to our account. It’s only through His divine power that we can know true life and godliness. We weren’t the ones who found Him, but He’s the one who called us. And that not because of our performance, but only because of His precious promises. What’s more, we’ve escaped the bondage of sin, not because of any self-disciplined goodness, but in that, through regeneration, He has reconstituted our spiritual DNA that we might partake of the divine nature.

By grace alone. Through faith alone. In Christ alone.

But amidst all this rest in the gospel, Peter seeks to stir it up.

For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love. . . . Therefore, brothers, be all the more diligent to make your calling and election sure, for if you practice these qualities you will never fall. For in this way there will be richly provided for you an entrance into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

(2Peter 1:5-7, 10-11 ESV)

Make every effort . . . supplement . . . be all the more diligent. Huh? What’s with that? Does that fit with the gospel?

It does. And that, it seems to me, is this gospel paradox.

That the more I appreciate the work is truly finished, the more I’ll want to work. The more I see myself robed freely in His righteousness apart from any righteousness in myself, the more I’ll pursue righteousness. The more I understand that I have been saved through faith alone, the more I’ll make every effort to add to my faith that which is consistent with my faith. The more I understand that He has called me to abide in His Christ-supplied rest, the more I’ll seek to make that calling sure.

My effort not a requirement for salvation, but a response. My diligence not a means to earning His love, but a demonstration that I know I’m already loved with an everlasting love. Wanting to supplement my faith, not in order secure my salvation, but to fully engage with the Spirit as together we work out my sanctification.

We have been wondrously redeemed, and that not of ourselves, thus, we invest ourselves in fully realizing our redemption. Because we stand upon no merit of our own, we determine to walk in a way that honors and exalts Him alone.

This, says Peter, is the way. The way that keeps us from falling. The way that provides for our glorious entrance into His eternal kingdom. The gospel way. A paradoxical way.

Our effort. Our diligence. Only through His power. Only by His grace. All for His glory.

Amen?

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The Glory

Chewing on the opening chapters of Ezekiel this morning. And while a picture might be worth a thousand words, a thousand words are inadequate to describe the vision Ezekiel beheld by the Chebar canal.

In the opening chapter, Ezekiel describes a great cloud, flashing fire around it, living creatures in the midst of it, hovering over wheels within wheels below it. The creatures themselves, beyond description. A human likeness, but each with four faces and each with four wings. Radiance emitting from them, they shine as burning coals of fire. And these angelic torches move to and fro with such speed that they appear like flashes of lightening. It’s like trying to describe the indescribable.

But they weren’t even the center of attention. They were but the porters who bore, as it were, a divine litter upon their shoulders–it too beyond description.

Above these angelic beings was “an expanse, shining like awe-inspiring crystal, spread out above their heads.” And above the expanse, the likeness of a throne. And on the throne, indescribable, unapproachable light. Like the radiance of sapphires, and like sun reflecting on shiny metal.

Imagine looking into a blazing furnace, and your looking upon the expanse born by the winged creatures. And there, in the midst, is a figure, defined only by the unimaginable brightness about Him. Enveloped in the resplendent colors of the brightest rainbow you’ve ever seen . . . times a thousand.

Words unable to adequately describe the vision. My mind unable to fully process the picture Ezekiel’s trying to paint. But one thing is clear. To have your eyes fall upon the vision is to also know the unrestrainable reflex to fall on your face. Awesome!

And then, in chapter 3, Ezekiel sees the same vision while in the valley. And that which is incapable of being fully described with many words is captured with but two words, the glory.

And the hand of the LORD was upon me there. And He said to me, “Arise, go out into the valley, and there I will speak with you.” So I arose and went out into the valley, and behold, the glory of the LORD stood there, like the glory that I had seen by the Chebar canal, and I fell on my face.

(Ezekiel 3:22-23 ESV)

The glory. That’s what Ezekiel beheld by the Chebar canal. That’s what he saw in the valley. The glory of the LORD stood there.

Indescribable, but not unidentifiable. Such is the glory of God.

So overwhelming when encountered that the knees buckle, the face goes into the ground, and worship pours forth as the only natural response to such supernatural revelation.

Oh, to behold the glory!

But wait!  We have!

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John 1:14 ESV)

We have seen the glory. Maybe not before us as a light show beyond description, but revealed to our hearts nevertheless as the Light of the world. Not processed by sight, but made known through eyes of faith. Absent the winged living creatures of exuding radiance, but revealed by the Father Himself through the Spirit of illumination who delights to make the Son known. So that by Him, we see Jesus.

And behold, the glory of the Lord stood there . . . and I fell on my face.

How privileged was Ezekiel to see the glory? How blessed are we to abide in the Glory?

Indescribable, but not unknowable. Beyond words, but not beyond worship. Surrounded in light, but no longer unapproachable light. Facedown before Him, even as He comes in to dine with us as His brothers, His sisters, His friends.

Behold . . . the glory!

Because of His overflowing grace. All for His eternal praise.

Amen?

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But This I Call to Mind . . .

Lamentation. Not a word that’s used very much in everyday language. Maybe because it’s something no one really wants to experience, or even think about, in everyday life. But we’ve become kind of familiar with it as a family. Sometimes sparked by the simplest thing, like ordering a couple of PSL’s. And through the medium of group-texting, the “groaning” quickly becomes a shared experience, “How can it hurt so much?”

Last night’s detour into rekindled sorrow comes to mind as, this morning, I listen in as another recounts the almost unbearable weight of his pain.

Don’t know who wrote Lamentation for sure, but whoever it was, their mourning over Jerusalem’s fall turns extremely personal in the third chapter. The city has been razed and along with it his soul has been crushed. God has unleashed His just wrath on an adulterous people and he has experienced what it was to become part of the collateral damage.

I am the man who has seen affliction under the rod of His wrath; He has driven and brought me into darkness without any light . . .

(Lamentations 3:1-2 ESV)

His skin and flesh have wasted away. His bones broken. Walled in so that there’s no escape, he’s besieged by darkness, bitterness, and tribulation. His prayers go nowhere, bouncing off the walls, falling silent at the ceiling. It’s like the Almighty has been a bear lying in wait, a lion in hiding, pouncing and tearing him to pieces. The author feels like he has been lined up in the crosshairs of a divine bow, the arrows finding their target, again and again.

His entire being soured as he’s become “the laughingstock of all peoples, the object of their taunts all day long” (this is what makes me think it’s the prophet Jeremiah pouring out his heart). No peace. Having almost forgotten what happiness even feels like. His endurance is about done enduring. Every remembrance, another rock laid upon him so that his soul is “bowed down” within him. Heavy sigh!

And then you read this . . .

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in Him.” The LORD is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.

(Lamentations 3:21-26 ESV)

When the soul is laid low, how important it is to set our minds on things above. When what we feel seems overwhelming, then we need to draw upon what we know.

But this I call to mind . . .

Despite how I feel, declares the lamenter, I know God’s love never ceases. Regardless of the pain, His mercies flow anew each day, like living water from cisterns that cannot be emptied. While I might feel alone, He is faithful. While the circumstance might make Him seem distant, He has promised to be my portion.

For He is good. Good to those who will look way up when they feel so down. Good to the one who seeks Him even when the sorrow seems unbearable at times. Good to those who wait upon the LORD . . . renewing their strength . . . their crushed soul again whispering, “Therefore I will hope in Him.”

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope.

Calling to mind His person, who God is. Calling to mind His promises, that there is coming a day. Calling to mind His power, the power that raised Christ from the dead, “the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep . . . then at His coming those who belong to Christ” (1Cor. 15:20, 23). Calling to mind His provision, grace for today and bright hope for tomorrow.

Calling to mind what I believe. Faith being the substance of things hoped for. Lament but a catalyst to again be still, and know that He is God.

But this I call to mind . . .

As I seek to abide in His grace . . . and to live for His glory.

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Of Nations and Individuals

Finished up in Jeremiah this morning. Continued reading in John. And I’m in wonder at a couple of “folds” in the manifold wisdom of God (Eph. 3:10).

Over the final chapters of Jeremiah, God is clearly portrayed as sovereign over nations. Not only does He deal with the rebellion of His own called-out people, but also, through the prophet, He exercises His authority and power to judge, at will, those nations that have set themselves as enemies of Israel and in opposition to God. Using one nation to humble another, God moves freely over entire people groups. Setting boundaries and limits, He permits tribes to come thus far, and no farther. He ordains great armies to conquer, for a time, without restraint, and then, humbles them as a more powerful nation is allowed to expand their borders.

You read these final chapters of Jeremiah and you can’t help but see a BIG God. The LORD of ALL the earth! Enthroned in heaven, but ordaining the movement of nations as He purposes. Out of sight, perhaps, but not out of control–His fingerprints all over the shifting geopolitical maps of the day. A BIG God. God of the nations.

For God is the King of all the earth; sing praises with a psalm! God reigns over the nations; God sits on His holy throne. The princes of the peoples gather as the people of the God of Abraham. For the shields of the earth belong to God; He is highly exalted!

(Psalm 47:7-9 ESV)

And then I read this and remember that He is not only the God who rules over nations, but a God who is also intricately involved with individuals.

“No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him. And I will raise him up on the last day.”    ~ Jesus

(John 6:44 ESV)

No one . . . Not a single individual . . . No man . . . No woman . . . No boy . . . No girl . . . Not even one person . . . No one comes to Jesus unless the Father has specifically, and individually, drawn them.

If God’s got the whole world in His hands, then what are His fine motor skills like, that He can move one human being? How acute is His attention? How precisely can He work His fingers? That He can select out one in billions and move them toward the Savior? A BIG God able to move the heart of the most minute person. Our God is the God over nations, to be sure. But our God is also the God who descends to move among individuals.

Ok, that starts the Awe-O-Meter moving to the right. And then, make it personal, and it’s off the scale.

The God revealed by Jeremiah as sovereign over the Egyptians and the Philistines; the God who rules overs the Moabites, the Ammonites, and the Edomites; the God who wields mighty Babylon as His own personal sword and then, when His work is accomplished, sheaths it with humiliating defeat itself; this great and awesome God, is the same God who moved me to behold the cross. Who opened my eyes, and made new my heart, that I might understand the depth and danger of my sin and believe that, in Jesus, there could be redemption and victory. Who begun a work in my life, promising me that He will complete it. Who has reserved an inheritance in heaven with my name on it, to be received when I am called home and gather with other individuals from all of time who have been drawn, one by one, to saving faith, just as I have been.

Unbelievable! Yet true!

How about those folds in the manifold wisdom of God?

A BIG God. But a God who draws small people to His Son.

God of the nations, God of the individual.

Such is the wonder of grace. To Him be all the glory!

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Bless

As part of a class we teach at our church, we say that, among other things, a church member is one who aspires to be a “unifying member.” Someone who understands that we are to be “eager”, or “make every effort”, to “maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Eph. 4:3). As part of this discussion we talk about what unity is not. It’s not uniformity, everybody looking, thinking, acting the same. It’s not about artificiality, a culture of pretending that we’re something we’re not in order to portray a reality that doesn’t really exist. Nor is it about superficiality, relating to each other at such a surface level that we avoid the undercurrents that invariably exist when people seek to do life together.

Instead it’s about different people with a like mind who have been brought together with a common gospel experience; real people figuring out how to live out a real faith in real relationship with one another; and those adopted as children of God committing themselves to do family life together. How wonderful, how beautiful, when brothers and sisters live together in unity (Ps. 133:1).

But how do you do that? Practically what does it look like? As I hover over a couple of verses in 1Peter this morning, there’s seem to be here at least one very practical thing we can do. It seems that such unity is more than just how we relate to one another, but also how we respond to one another.

Finally, all of you, have unity of mind, sympathy, brotherly love, a tender heart, and a humble mind. Do not repay evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but on the contrary, bless, for to this you were called, that you may obtain a blessing.

(1Peter 3:8-9 ESV)

As the culture became increasingly hostile around the Christians Peter was writing to, it was sure to test the metal of their new nature in Christ. External pressure has a way of exposing internal frailty. And so, Peter addressed the need for servants to serve well their masters, for wives to gently contend for their unbelieving husbands, and for husbands to lean in to honoring their wives. And then he concludes by addressing “all of you.”

First he talks about how they should relate to one another. Acknowledging their common calling and commission. Suffering alongside those who suffered. Loving each other as one would their own brother or sister. Having compassion for one another, soft towards their struggles, empathetic as to their circumstance. And with a humility that showed itself in kindness to others, esteeming others better than themselves.

But when the inevitable happens in a family, when there’s a blow up, when there’s misunderstanding, when the tongue gets ahead of the brain and things are said that probably shouldn’t have been, it’s how we respond that practically works to maintain the unity.

We are not to retaliate. No sharp-tongued sarcasm (MSG). No tit-for-tat.

On the contrary, Peter writes, bless.

That’s the right action that springs from the right attitude. The right response from right relating. Bless.

“Fine speaking” . . . that’s the literal meaning. It’s the word to eulogize.

Despite whatever dust up has occurred, speak well of and invoke God’s favor for. The incident processed through the context of the relationship results in an unexpected response.

Even though we feel slighted or demeaned, because we are likeminded, because we seek to suffer alongside of, because we see each other as blood-bought kin, because we’re tender hearted toward each other with the compassion of Christ, because we’re willing to take the lower place, we respond with blessing.

If I’m relating right to my brother, I’m more likely to be responding right to my brother. And that, only possible through Christ who dwells in me by His Spirit.

Bless.

By His grace. For the His glory.

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Flawless

As I’m hovering over my reading in Song of Solomon this morning, I realize I’ve kind of come full-circle.

As a newer believer, I didn’t know what to make of the Song. Seemed kind of out of place. If the Scriptures were the word of God, this just didn’t seem to fit. If the Bible was for religious instruction, the Song seemed out of place. So I read it allegorically. Conceding that it must be full of types and pictures way beyond my immature believing mind to comprehend. I was more concerned with just getting through it, then thinking I could really understand it.

And then, at some point, probably after some exposure to the basics of hermeneutics (principles and rules for how to interpret the Bible), when I read the Song I would read it literally. The words making more sense, the concepts becoming more relatable, the storyline emerging more clearly. But honestly, still not quite getting why it had been preserved as Holy Writ.

And now, while I probably still read it literally, I think about it more allegorically. While the love story it portrays is beautiful, the love story it foreshadows is awe-invoking.

Behold, you are beautiful, my love, behold, you are beautiful! . . . .You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you. Come with me from Lebanon, my bride . . .

(Song of Solomon 4:1, 7-8a ESV)

Love is blind. That’s the only conclusion you come to if you read this literally. I get that a guy’s gonna look at his girl and think, “You’re beautiful.” She’s not gonna be his girl very long if he doesn’t. And it makes sense that, if he plans on marrying her, he tells her that she’s beautiful . . . repeatedly . . . over and over again. I even get him becoming all gushy at times and blurting out, as he spins on his heals, “Your altogether beautiful!” That everything about her, everything, is pleasant to behold. Love is to be expressed and confessed. It’s what you’d expect a lover to do.

But, to say “there is no flaw in you?” Really? Flawless?

No blemish? No spot? Not even a minor defect? Even though the sweet lady of this love story had been forced by her brothers to work in their vineyards in the hot sun such that she had become very “dark, because the sun has looked upon me” (1:5-6)? You don’t spend time working a vineyard, working among the vines in the blazing sun, and not develop a few scratches, one or two sun spots, or a bit of cut up and wrinkled up skin. Only way you read this literally, and buy the “no flaw” part, is to conclude love is blind.

But what if you chew on this allegorically? What if it’s a picture of another bridegroom-to-be and him fawning over his betrothed? Well then, the mind goes into a cross- referencing mode . . .

. . . Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her, that He might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that He might present the church to Himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. 

(Ephesians 5:26b-27  ESV)

Without spot. No sign of a wrinkle or any such thing. Not even a blemish. Flawless. That’s the bride the Christ beholds as He whispers, “Behold, you are beautiful, My love, behold, you are beautiful! You are altogether beautiful, My love!”

Paul tells us to try and grasp the breadth and length and height and depth of the love of Christ–to seek to know that which “surpasses knowledge” (Eph. 3:18-19). And I’m thinking that, this morning, the Song is a catalyst for doing that.

Before Christ, the Bridegroom, His betrothed, the church, is flawless. Not because love is blind, but because He sees this work in progress as the work completed when she is presented before Him. A work not dependent on our best intentions and self-cleansing efforts, but a work He has begun and has promised He will complete (Php. 1:6).

A work founded on the cross, where He paid the price for our redemption and shed His blood for our cleansing. The work begun when, through His sovereign determination, He graced us with ears to hear, eyes to see, and a new heart to receive. The work sustained through the sealing of the Holy Spirit, who leads us into truth, and patiently forms within us the very nature of the Son of God. The results of the work guaranteed through that sealing, assured that one day the Bridegroom will present His Bride to Himself. And that, flawless!

O’ the love of God. How can it not take our breath away? How does it not humble and yet invigorate at the same time? How does it not prime the pump of awe, wonder, praise, and worship?

Flawless. Really? Yeah, really!

Because of grace. For His glory!

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