Disarmed and Not Dangerous

We talk about spiritual warfare and, to be sure, we wrestle not against flesh and blood (Eph. 6:12). The rulers, the authorities, the cosmic powers over this present darkness, the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places align themselves against the people of God as we seek to proclaim the good news of the word of God. Thus, we are to stand fast and arm ourselves fully for the battle as our opposition seeks to derail the advancement of the kingdom of God.

But I wonder if, too often, we are drawn into skirmishes with the enemy in which he has no real ammunition. Into battles where we duck and take cover trying to avoid bullets fired from guns only capable of shooting blanks. Rather than our enemy engaging in hand-to-hand combat (which he always loses because greater is He that is in us than he that is in the world (1Jn. 4:4)), he goes undercover, engaging in guerilla warfare, seeking to immobilize us subliminally. The roaring lion (1Pet. 5:8) takes a less overt approach and, instead, as the accuser of the brethren (Rev. 12:10), subtlety seeks to get inside our heads.

And so, he preys on our less than perfect walk. He digs up every time we’ve ever tripped up. He gets us to focus on our performance and whispers one of his twisting questions into our ears, “Is God really pleased?” He accentuates our failure and quietly mocks us, “And you call yourself a follower?” He tries to convince us how bad we are so that we’ll retreat to, and stay in, our bunkers. “Who are you?” he hisses.

But, like I said, he’s got nothing. He’s shooting at us with a squirt gun. He’s waving around a rubber sword. His accusations are all talk with no real power.

That’s what Paul reminds me of this morning as I read in Colossians.

And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with [Christ], having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This He set aside, nailing it to the cross. He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in Him.

(Colossians 2:13-15 ESV)

The rules and authorities marshaled against us? Disarmed and not dangerous.

We believe that as born again believers we were once dead and now are alive in Christ. But that’s only true if God really has forgiven us all our trespasses. It’s only possible if the blood of Christ really is sufficient to cleanse us from all unrighteousness–past, present, and future. If the work of the cross really is finished, and really has atoned for all our sin. And if that’s true, then there really is now no condemnation for those of us who are in Christ Jesus (Rom. 8:1). And so, the accuser has nothing!

The debt we owed for the wages of sin has been canceled. “Paid in full” written over every sin which so easily besets us and nailed to the cross, openly and publicly declaring to the heavenly realm, Jesus paid it all!

And thus, our enemies, at least when it comes to their accusations, are disarmed. Divested of any prosecutory power. Not because we are without sin, but because Jesus was, and we are in Him. Not because we are perfect, but because the Son of God is, and we have been wrapped in His righteousness. To be sure we fail, though we seek not to. And we falter, though we try to walk in a manner that’s worthy. But He is also faithful, and if we confess our sins He will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1John 1:9).

So accuse away, deceiver. You’re firing a Nerf gun. You’re swinging a rubber sword. For you have been disarmed and are not dangerous. For by grace I have been saved, and by grace I am always fully accepted and well beloved, because I am in Christ.

To be sure, there are battles to be fought. But whether or not I am loved by God, or trying to second guess whether or not He’s pleased with me, that’s not one of them.

“As the Father has loved Me, so have I loved you. Abide in My love.”

~ Jesus (John 15:9 ESV)

The Deceiver has been disarmed–by God’s grace. The Accuser is no longer dangerous–for God’s glory.

Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.

(Romans 8:37 ESV)

Amen?

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A Team Sport

The goal is lofty. The way to get there though, is within our grasp.

Paul writes to the Colossians in order to correct the error which was creeping into their midst and destabilizing their faith. He had already been praying for these believers–that they would know the will of Christ “in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to Him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God” (1:9-10). And now, through his letter, he wants to encourage them.

And, as a I read in Colossians 2 this morning, Paul puts before them his great desire for them, and, in essence, says the best way to achieve it is together.

For I want you to know how great a struggle I have for you and for those at Laodicea and for all who have not seen me face to face, that their hearts may be encouraged, being knit together in love, to reach all the riches of full assurance of understanding and the knowledge of Gods mystery, which is Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.

(Colossians 2:1-3 ESV)

Imagine that conversation:

What do you want to do with your life?

Oh, I don’t know, maybe to be in touch with everything there is to know of God (MSG). To have complete confidence that I understand Gods mysterious plan, which is Christ Himself (NLT).

How’s that for a personal mission statement? To reach all the riches of full assurance of understanding and the knowledge of God’s mystery? Pretty massive goal. But Paul says you don’t need to look far–it’s found in Christ.

If the heavens declare the glory of God, Christ reveals the essence of God. It’s how God has spoken to His creation in these last days (Heb. 1:2-3). Christ being the shining reflection of God’s glory and the exact expression of God’s being. Jesus Himself said, “Whoever has seen Me has seen the Father” (Jn. 14:9).

So the target is set and the way is identified. So how do we best get there? Paul says it’s a team sport, happening as God’s people are “knit together in love.”

Sure, Paul talks about the athlete who runs the race, pressing on for the prize, and the boxer who avoids beating the air (1Cor. 9:24-27). But the race isn’t an individual sprint, it’s a team marathon. And though the boxer might have to step into the ring alone, it would be foolish for him to think he can do so, and go more than a couple of rounds, without people in his corner. And so, though we may aspire to Paul’s goal that we reach the riches of full assurance, we need to recognize that it happens best as we do so knit together in love.

Shame on those in the body of Christ who say we don’t need the body of Christ. That somehow, we don’t need the family of God to fully know the Son of God.

God’s designed it such that we can reach all the riches of full assurance if we press on together. The Head of the Church has gifted the Church with those who can equip the saints for the work of the ministry for the building up of the Church–“until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.” It’s as we truth together in love that we grow up and reach for the riches. Each part doing it’s part so that every part grows. The body “building itself up in love” (Eph. 4:11-16).

The prize is priceless and the race is worth running. But it’s a team sport.

By God’s grace. For God’s glory.

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Fuel for Faithfulness

Perhaps what’s as inspiring about the apostle Paul as anything else is his unwavering sense of call and purpose. Maybe that’s what encounters with the risen Christ on a road to Damascus can do to a guy. Whether it was escaping the Jews in a basket elevator at the beginning of his ministry (Acts 9:25), or writing from a Roman prison towards the end of his ministry, Paul was clear on the stewardship the Lord had given him, “to make the word of God fully known, the mystery hidden for ages and generations but now revealed to His saints. . . . which is Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Col. 1:25-27).

If ever there was a guy who knew what it was to keep on keepin’ on, it was Paul. In times of triumph and in times of trouble he faithfully proclaimed the gospel, that people might be born again into relationship with God as their Father. And, whether he himself was experiencing a season of abundance or a season of need, when it might have been just as easy to move on, he stuck around, faithfully teaching the necessities of maturing in Christ which came only through following Christ together as family.

And here’s what grabbed me this morning as I’m reading in Colossians, the apostle’s fuel for faithfulness.

Him we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ. For this I toil, struggling with all His energy that He powerfully works within me.

(Colossians 1:28-29 ESV)

Peterson puts it this way: “That’s what I’m working so hard at day after day, year after year, doing my best with the energy God so generously gives me.”

Paul toiled. He labored. With wearisome effort, often to the point of exhaustion, he sought to do what he believed God had called him to do.

He struggled as part of his stewardship. Often he agonized against great opposition to announce the greater opportunity found in the the gospel Repeatedly, he entered the fray in order to contend for God’s people.

And where did the strength come from that allowed him to awake every day and get back in the battle? What was the fuel for such faithfulness? It was the superhuman, trinitarian power only God the Father could provide by God the Son who lived in Paul through the God the Spirit. Fuel available today to the faithful.

I can so easily forget that.

Sure, I can say that “the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me”, but so often I’m not consciously drawing on the eternal power of the “Christ who lives in me” (Gal. 2:20). I can so easily plop down in my chair at the end of day, feeling defeated and out of gas, failing to appropriate by faith the divine energy graced to me as part of the gift of salvation. I can so easily become discouraged at the weight I feel for the stewardship I believe God has given me, forgetting that His power really is made perfect through my weakness (2Cor. 12:9), and that I really can do all things through Christ who strengthens me (Php. 4:13).

I just need to enter the struggle with His energy that He powerfully works within me.

Not by your might, Pete, nor is it by your power, but only by My Spirit, says the LORD of Heaven’s Armies.

(Zechariah 4:6 PLT)

I know that. I just need to remember that. And believe that. And appropriate that. By His enabling, I need to avail myself of His fuel as I seek to serve Him faithfully.

It’s by His grace. It’s for His glory.

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On Our Side

It’s another song of David. And though we don’t know the exact circumstance behind this song’s “inspiration,” we do know the outcome–they escaped. Israel dodged the bullet. The people of God were able to slip away left while their enemies looked right. They were delivered.

They managed to evade the flood. To elude the torrent. To escape the raging waters.

And I’m reminded, that though I might like to write the story a different way, the people of God don’t get a pass from floods, torrents, and raging waters. That enemies do arise. That troubles still occur. That trials are inevitable. That being precious children of God doesn’t mean we get a bye on life’s assaults. That even though we are on the winning side and the victory has been secured, the battle is yet to be won. Life still happens . . .

But I’m also reminded that, as those redeemed, reconciled, and received into God’s family, we don’t do life alone. We’re not left to face the struggles by ourselves. Our resources are not limited to what we are able to muster up. Our power to endure is not limited to whatever strength we might have. Instead, we have an ally. One who draws alongside. One who intervenes. One who provides deliverance and the way of escape. In fact, sings the songwriter, it is God Himself who is on our side.

If it had not been the LORD who was on our side–let Israel now say–if it had not been the LORD who was on our side when people rose up against us, then they would have swallowed us up alive, when their anger was kindled against us; then the flood would have swept us away, the torrent would have gone over us; then over us would have gone the raging waters. Blessed be the LORD . . .

(Psalm 124:1-6a ESV)

Sure I’d like to avoid the trials, testings, and troubles. Let me program my own GPS and I’ll stay out of the valleys. But that’s not how it works. Jesus prepared His disciples for that reality,

“In the world you will have tribulation.” (John 16:33a ESV)

But with the preparation came the promise,

“But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33b ESV)

If it had not been the LORD who was on our side–let the people of God now say–if it had not been the LORD who was on our side, where would we be?

Our enemies afford the opportunity for us to see our Deliverer in action. Our temptations allow us to experience His strength. Our trials, to know His power. Our troubles, to be infused with all-sufficient grace. And “in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us” (Rom. 8:37).

And so, we have the material to write our own song. The first-hand experience to declare ourselves, He is on our side!

Our help is in the name of the LORD, who made heaven and earth.

(Psalm 124:8 ESV)

Blessed be the LORD!

For His grace. For His glory.

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Unworthy!

The problem with privilege is that the longer it lasts the more likely we are to view it as an entitlement. Set someone up in 5-star, luxury accommodations and, the longer it lasts, the more the awe factor tends to wane. What began with excitement can soon become the everyday ho-hum reality of expectation. The God who wired us, and then saw that “wiring” frayed and frazzled because of sin, knew this could be the case. Here’s what he says, through Moses, to the Israelites before they move into their new digs, the promised land:

“Take care lest you forget the LORD your God by not keeping His commandments and His rules and His statutes, which I command you today, lest, when you have eaten and are full and have built good houses and live in them, and when your herds and flocks multiply and your silver and gold is multiplied and all that you have is multiplied, then your heart be lifted up, and you forget the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery . . . Beware lest you say in your heart, ‘My power and the might of my hand have gotten me this wealth.'”

(Deuteronomy 8:11-14, 17 ESV)

The gift becomes a given. The new becomes the normal. The promise eventually morphs into the presumed.

I was reminded of this as I read this morning in Luke’s gospel (7:1-10). Jesus travels to Capernaum and a centurion hear’s about it. But his interest isn’t in some official, Roman authority capacity. Instead, it’s because the centurion has a dear member of his household staff who is near to death and he believes this Jesus, whose reputation has preceded Him, can do something about it.

This Roman leader of a 100 fine-tuned, fighting men really is a remarkable character. First, this tough guy seems to care about his household servants, so much so that he’s willing to step out in faith on behalf of one who is deathly ill. Second, this soldier charged with maintaining Roman rule over the Jews has, in fact, become a fan of the people of God, having built them a synagogue. So highly is he regarded by those he rules over, that a delegation of Jewish elders willingly and passionately goes to Jesus and pleads for this man’s request that Jesus heal his servant.

Gotta like this guy. Whatever good comes to him, or to his household, you can’t help but think he deserves.

But here’s the deal. When the centurion hears, that in response to the Jewish elders’ petition, Jesus is heading to his home, he sends out another delegation of his friends to tell Jesus that it isn’t necessary that He come. That he believes Jesus’ authority and power is such that He need only say the word and the servant will be healed.

What faith! Even Jesus remarks, “I tell you the truth, not even in Israel have I found such faith.”

And what grabs my attention is that the centurion himself never actually goes and talks to Jesus. That he first sends some Jewish elders who know his good deeds. Then, he sends some of his closest friends who know his heart.

How come? Because he’s a big shot and can send whoever wherever to do whatever? Nope, that’s not it.

When [Jesus] was not far from the house, the centurion sent friends, saying to Him, “Lord, do not trouble Yourself, for I am not worthy to have You come under my roof. Therefore I did not presume to come to You. But say the word, and let my servant be healed.”

(Luke 7:6-7 ESV)

The Roman commander refused to enter into the presence of Jesus not because he thought he was too good for the rebel rabbi, but because he knew he was unworthy to even fall at the feet of One who Himself embodied creation’s power. He was unworthy to even untie the shoelaces of One who could heal the sick, give sight to the blind, make the lame to walk, and raise the dead from the grave. Unworthy to approach God in flesh. Insufficient to presume any favor should be extended to him, or anyone else, because of his reputation. Unfit to even seek a blessing, much less receive one.

And as I sit and chew on this man’s words, this child of God, having been graced with adoption papers some 40 years ago, is reminded that he too is unworthy.

Unworthy to approach God, much less be invited within the curtain to abide with Him. Unworthy to even be acknowledged by the Son of God, much less to be called His friend. Unworthy to bring any offering before His throne which might be deemed pleasing by a holy, holy, holy God, much less to have heaven’s best freely given as a sacrifice for my sin–to have the Lamb of God determine to be my redemption.

Unworthy of the wooing call of the Spirit which ushered me out of darkness and into marvelous light. Unworthy of the blessings that I have known. Unworthy of the inheritance which awaits.

O, might such privilege never become common place. Keep me Lord, from allowing Your mercies, which are new everyday, to become an expectation. Guard my heart from the blessing ever becoming boring or a burden.

O’ that grace might ever be new. That His glory might always be proclaimed.

Amen?

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My Shade

Ask me to describe God and I might start with His attributes. God is love. He is all-knowing, all-powerful, and ever-present. He is holy, He is good, and He is unchanging. He is sovereign, He is just. He is merciful, and He abounds in grace. And the list goes on.

Ask me what He’s like and I might answer in the way He relates to me. He’s my Deliverer. My Rock and my Fortress. He’s my heavenly Father. And that list could go on too.

But as I read in Psalm 121 this morning, I was reminded of another word picture for God. One that doesn’t come to mind immediately. One that I’m not sure I’d come up with, at all. But one that is evident, even if not always recognized. He is my shade.

I lift up my eyes to the hills.
….From where does my help come?
My help comes from the LORD,
….who made heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot be moved;
….He who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, He who keeps Israel
….will neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD is Your keeper;
….the LORD is Your shade on Your right hand.

(Psalm 121:1-5 ESV)

Jehovah, Your shade.

Be honest, it’s probably not the first thing that comes to mind when you think of God. Probably not the tenth. But doesn’t He protect us from the heat of trials and troubles? When the intensity of the situation is ramped way up, how do we get through? By the LORD who is our keeper, the One who descends to be our shade.

For You have been a stronghold to the poor, a stronghold to the needy in his distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat.

(Isaiah 25:4a ESV)

As difficult as the trial might seem, yet it could be so much worse if not for His shade. While the going get’s tough, we still keep going because our God quietly, yet faithfully, positions Himself between us and the worst of the storm.

So often we sweat and fret in the heat, unaware of the respite we’re experiencing because He has already taken up position, through His Spirit, at our right hand. Often, before we even come to an awareness of needing to draw near to Him, through the Comforter He has already drawn alongside us. Before we gain enough equilibrium to cast all our cares upon Him, He has already started providing a covering for us.

The LORD is Your shade on Your right hand.

And while we might picture a great tree as providing such needed shade, the shade He provides is found at the foot of the cross, and the footstool of His throne.

As we come to the cross, we’re reminded afresh of the Him who is fully able to sympathize with our weakness, has Himself suffered, and is able to help those in times of trial and testing. Does Jesus care? Oh yes, He cares! And He is ready to make intercession.

And such intercession is made in the very presence of God the Almighty. In the holy of holies, before His throne of grace. To which we are invited to draw near in confidence, in full assurance by faith, “that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:16). To abide in the shadow of His throne, His holy presence sufficient for our every need.

So often, when things heat up, I’m prone to forget that it would be unbearably hot if not for Him. That the crucible’s intesity would consume me if not for Jehovah, my shade.

What amazing grace. To Him be everlasting glory.

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True Companion

At best, he’s a bit player. A walk-on in a stage production. A cameo appearance in a movie. Doesn’t have a speaking part. Name’s not even listed in the credits. You barely notice him. He’s a no name. But this morning I’m noodling on Paul’s true companion.

I entreat Euodia and I entreat Syntyche to agree in the Lord. Yes, I ask you also, true companion, help these women, who have labored side by side with me in the gospel together with Clement and the rest of my fellow workers, whose names are in the book of life.

(Philippians 4:2-3 ESV)

So often I just blow by these first verses of Philippians 4. Anxious to get on to rejoicing in the Lord always, and requesting of the Lord for everything, and resting in the Lord with a peace that passes understanding, I fail to pause and consider how important is reconciling in the Lord.

Paul writes to a church but singles out two ladies. Not to shame them, but because of his high esteem for them. They had labored with the beloved apostle side by side, and yet, somehow, they were now head to head. Whatever the misunderstanding, whatever the offense, whatever the disagreement, Paul called in the troops to help mend this broken relationship.

That great effort should be brought to bear to bring blood-bought believers back into friendship and fellowship seems so foreign to so many today. All too often in the church, when relationships get rocky, we simply concede that someone’s eventually going to end up leaving. The body’s going to lose a member. The fellowship’s going to be fractured. But if we’d take our cue from Paul, we’d plead with the combatants to work it out, and, as needed, we’d enlist others to draw alongside and help. We’d call on the true companion.

This guy, or gal, is the real-meal deal. A genuine, sincere, “yokefellow.” A comrade, a colleague, a consort. Someone Paul could trust. Like the ladies, a faithful partner.

And while he’s not named, he’s enlisted. And, as a true companion, you know that he engaged. He willingly mediated. He diligently brokered reconciliation. He did what needed to be done, not for any accolade but for the good of the family of God. He became involved not because it would benefit him necessarily but because it would strengthen the body. He was open to getting into the mess a bit if he could be used of the Spirit to make beautiful Christ’s bride.

That Paul would pause in his letter to address this minor scuffle among two sisters is noteworthy. It’s a reminder of the importance placed by the Head of the church on maintaining the unity of the Spirit among a gathering of believers (Eph. 4:3). But that he would also enlist a no name to do something with almost no recognition for the benefit of the church, should perhaps also awaken us to the possibility that the Lord might call us to be a true companion.

Not just a friend to our friends, but a friend to our family. Willing to be prompted by the Spirit to draw alongside those who have turned away from each other. Not to meddle but to mend. Not to take sides but to restore the bond of peace. Not that we’d be noticed, but that others would be blessed.

Because of grace. For His glory.

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Seek Your Servant

It’s not the ending you’d expect. After 175 verses scripted to exalt the law of the Lord it’s not the finale you’d think would be written.

Or is it? Maybe after penning such an ode of delight for God’s word, and claiming again and again the deliverance promised in God’s word, and pledging repeatedly a holy desire to obey and walk in the ways of God’s word, it might just be appropriate to humbly seek mercy, grace, and help in time of need from the God of God’s word.

My tongue will sing of Your word, for all Your commandments are right.
Let Your hand be ready to help me, for I have chosen Your precepts.
I long for Your salvation, O LORD, and Your law is my delight.
Let my soul live and praise You, and let Your rules help me.
I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek Your servant,
for I do not forget Your commandments.

(Psalm 119:172-176 ESV)

Seek Your servant.

After proclaiming his delight for God’s commandments . . . after declaring His determination to make God’s ways his ways . . . after lifting up his voice, again and again, in praise and adoration to a God who has so spoken into this world . . . the songwriter finishes with, “Seek Your servant because I have a tendency to wander off.”

What does this say about the songwriter? Having penned such an opus around God’s word, he humbly acknowledges his frailty in seeking to walk in God’s way. He recognizes that while the spirit may be willing, the flesh is weak. That often holy determination is hamstrung by worldly distraction. That great declarations of faith are so often broad-sided by unanticipated times of failure. While the psalmist pens a great song, he never loses sight of his need for a great Savior.

And what does this say about a God who is willing to act as a shepherd? A Creator who is willing to pursue His creation? A Sovereign who is willing to draw alongside His servants? Behold our God!

Having revealed Himself through His word . . . having made clear the way that we should walk . . . having enabled us with a new nature and a heaven-sent power, even with all that He has provided, He faithfully concedes to having to leave the ninety-nine to retrieve the one gone astray. Not that He might punish the lost lamb, but that He might rejoice in its found-ness (Matt. 18:12-13).

Seeking His servants is not some burden our God must bear. It is the joy of an infinitely patient, merciful, and grace-abounding God to respond to his children’s cry, “Abba Father, come find me when I get lost.”

Having received the ransom for our sins once and for all, the shed blood of His Son on the cross of Calvary, He adopts those of faith as His children. Our sins–past, present, and future–atoned for, He now promises to complete the work He has begun in us (Php. 1:6). And if that process should require the Great Shepherd to retrieve some wandering sheep, then, for His glory, He will seek His servant when His servant goes astray.

O that I would not stray. But as the hymn-writer reminds me, I’m “prone to wander, Lord, I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love.”

But that I would also know my Shepherd’s heart and His longing to answer my plea, “Seek Your servant.”

Such is the confidence and peace of grace. Such is why He is deserving of all glory.

Amen?

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Rab Shalom

“How’s your heart?” It’s a question my girls regularly ask me, and each other, these days. “I can see how you’re doing life on the outside,” they’re saying, “but what’s the state of affairs on the inside?”

Truth be told, who hasn’t known what it is to go through the motions to get through the day while being a mess deep down inside? I’m guessing we’ve all been there at one time or another. So, if being real is important to us, then it’s probably a fair question to ask, or be asked, from time to time: “How’s your heart?”

This morning, the psalmist’s response grabbed me.

Great peace have those who love Your law; nothing can make them stumble.

(Psalm 119:165 ESV)

Great peace. How’s that for an answer?

Rab shalom in the Hebrew.

Much tranquility. Exceeding completeness. Abounding soundness. Abundant contentment.  Great peace.  Rab shalom.

Who wouldn’t want to buy what rab shalom is selling? Who wouldn’t want to respond to, “How’s your heart?” with a truthful, “Rab shalom!”

And the secret sauce for great peace is a love for the word of God. A desire to hear His voice and know His ways. An appetite for “pure spiritual milk” because we have “tasted that the Lord is good” (1Pet. 2:2-3). A longing to walk according to His laws and statutes because we have known something of the reality of His love and grace.

Not that this rab shalom dwells with those who perfectly keeps His law, for who is up to such a task? But that, at the end of the day, there is abundant contentment for those who bring themselves in line with His word’s great revelation.

Those who strive to walk in obedience, because they believe that, through the blood of Christ, they have been gifted with a great reconciliation. Those who make every effort to square their hearts with God’s precepts and commands because they have known the fruit of God’s redemption, the righteousness of Christ credited to their account. Those who, in a sense, live beyond themselves in their pursuit of holiness because they have been made holy, given all they need to participate in the divine nature (2Pet. 1:4). Those who keep on keepin’ on now, even in trial and failure, because of the comfort of the Spirit given them as a deposit guaranteeing an eternal inheritance to come.

Abounding soundness because of an unshakeable foundation. Much tranquility as they are tethered to an unfailing anchor. Exceeding completeness because of His ever accessible voice. Great peace have those who love His law.

Great peace, not because of the absence of obstacles, but because of the presence of God. Great peace, even in great trouble, because a great God has made Himself known through His living word. An abiding confidence, that though we will continue to encounter troubles and run into obstacles, that ultimately we will not stumble–we will not fall–because He is faithful.

Rab shalom. Great peace.  Though the word of our great God.

Revealing anew His great grace.  All that He might be given afresh great glory.

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The Surpassing Worth of Losing It All

For many, it simply wouldn’t add up. They’d do the math, look at the profit and loss statement, and then take a pass on making the trade. But not Paul. He was all in. Convinced of the surpassing worth of losing it all.

If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness, under the law blameless. But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.

(Philippians 3:4b-8a ESV)

Paul’s profile on LinkedIn would have been pretty impressive. His Facebook page would have been full of “Likes.” Those who followed him on Twitter would have been many. By any measure of those in his community, he had it all. He was on his way to the top.

Loving, devout parents who brought him up in the way he should go, having started him off right by ensuring he was circumcised on the eighth day. A member of God’s chosen earthly people. What’s more, of the tribe of a favored son, the one named “son of my right hand,” one of two boys born to Israel’s beloved Rachel. But while born into privilege, he was also driven to perform–doing all that needed to be done to leverage his advantage for achievement. Zealous for his heritage, customs, and religion, he sought to excel. Rising to elite status. A man of purpose and action, even crusading against that which He thought defamed and denied His God.

Paul had it all. If his biography to that point had been written as an accounting ledger, the assets listed would have been many. The things that had been gain to him would have made most envious.

But then he discovered something far better. Something which made his achievements pale in comparison. So much so, that he willingly transferred his assets into the Loss column.

What is it that causes someone who has it all to let it all go? That compels someone who has climbed their way to the top to be willing to get off the ladder?

It’s the surpassing worth of knowing Christ.

And I wonder, has the familiarity of being a Christian devalued the privilege of being in Christ? If I were to create my own ledger would Christ alone be on the Gain side and everything else under the heading Loss ? If I were to list my assets, would Christ be at the top of the list? If I were to document my priorities would my pursuit of Him be preeminent, directing everything else? If I were to catalog my treasures, would abiding in Him out-value everything else?

As I chew on it, I can’t help but ask myself, do I count everything loss for the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord? Or is my relationship with Christ better characterized as supplemental worship. Part of a well-balanced life, with enough of the pie given to seeking the King and His kingdom so that my conscience is eased and my community’s expectations are met?

Chewing on questions more than answers this morning. Noodling on what it means to count all things loss. Meditating on the surpassing worth of knowing Christ.

By His grace. For His glory.

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