Bless

It’s been my experience that when the circumstances of life get difficult it often puts strain on relationships. Show me a couple in the pressure cooker of financial need and it won’t surprise me if, from time to time, they blow off steam at one another. Or consider the impact of a chronic illness within a family–tiredness can give way to testiness or fear of the unknown might manifest itself in fights over the unimportant.

This morning I’m continuing to read about a group of believers who lived under the constant pressure of persecution. Peter calls them the “elect exiles of the Dispersion” (1Peter 1:1). They were the elect, called to be holy. But they were also the exiles, on the run for their calling. Life wasn’t easy and, it would seem, wasn’t about to get any easier anytime soon. And so Peter writes to encourage them. Reminding them of who they are in Christ, “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation,” and what they have been called to do for Christ, “that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who called you out of darkness and into His marvelous light” (2:9).

But Peter also knew that the constant pressure of persecution and suffering would conspire to test the peace and tranquility of their fellowship. That as the going got tough it would be tough to not get going on one another. That even though they had all been ransomed with the precious blood of Christ (1:19) and had been born again through the imperishable seed of the living and abiding word of God (1:23), there would still be the temptation to yield to the old ways of dealing with all these new troubles.

After addressing servants, wives, and husbands as to how to deal with the stress of their daily circumstance, Peter turns to the whole fellowship of believers. Knowing that just as hard times impact people’s homes, Peter was also aware that hard times can also conspire to fracture God’s household. And so he exhorts God’s people to bless.

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)

Let’s face it. Even if we don’t live under the same pressure cooker of persecution that these early believers endured, if we are serious about doing family with other Christians, at some point we’re going to know some friction with at least a few of them. If we believe that we’ve been called to go deeper than, “Hi, how are you?” on a Sunday morning with other believers, if we are willing to not just call them our brothers and sisters but actually live with them as brothers and sisters, then we probably should be prepared for a family spat from time to time. We shouldn’t be surprised when, for whatever reason, things get a bit tense between Christians. It’s then we should remember Peter’s encouragement to bless.

Peter addresses all of them. No one is exempt from the propensity under pressure to turn on those they share Christ with.

And it starts with a unity of mind. Not that they would see eye-to-eye on everything. That would be uniformity, not unity. But that, through the Spirit’s ever-present enabling, they would be committed to a common attitude concerning one another. An attitude marked by compassion, a willingness to suffer alongside with each other. A mindset that recalls these are not just other people but that they are blood relatives, as in brothers and sisters bought by the blood of Christ, and thus are to be treated with a familial type of love, just as Christ loved us.

Also wanting to have a tender heart towards each other, a heart sensitive to the needs and feelings of one another. A heart that refuses to, despite the pressure to do otherwise, shutdown or go cold concerning a fellow sojourner. And finally, a humble mind. A mind that puts others first. A mind resolved to be kind, courteous, and considerate of others, even when it wants only to watch out for itself.

And when this attitude of mind prevails, then follows the resolve to act. Rather than repaying evil for the evil perceived against me, or determining to win a war of words with a brother or sister who has offended me, I will, on the contrary, purpose to bless.

Bless. To speak well of. To seek the welfare of.

When the going gets tough. When the pressure cooker is about to blow. When paranoia is just smart thinking ’cause everyone IS against you–even in the family of God . . . by God’s grace, we determine to bless!

For to this we were called. As recipients of blessing, we are to be the distributors of blessing. As benefactors of grace, we are to extend grace. As children of God, we have been called to love the family of God.

Even when life puts a strain on relationships, bless.

Perhaps not a natural reaction, but hey, we are supernatural new creations. The mind of Christ and the love of Christ so implanted in us that, if we have been so blessed, we ought, in turn, bless one another.

Because of God’s grace. For God’s glory.

Posted in 1Peter | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder

God loves to “love on” His people. Jesus is “crazy in love” with His bride. And though, from time to time, we may not think we’re much to look at, yet we can praise the Lord that our beauty is in the eye of the Beholder!

Awareness of such “beholding” first started happening for me this morning as I read in Song of Solomon. Read the first part of chapter four and it doesn’t take a genius to see that the one referred to as “the Beloved” is head over heals for his bride to be. You read this and you know he is just nuts about her and can’t take his eyes off of her . . .

Behold, you are beautiful, my love, behold, you are beautiful! . . . You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you.

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

Ok . . . come on now . . . there’s no flaw in her? Really?!? But that’s what he says. That’s what he sees.

In his sight, she is perfect! You need to get past him describing her hair being like a flock of goats . . . her teeth like a flock of shorn sheep . . . and her cheeks like halves of a pomegranate. All very attractive, I’m sure. But, regardless of the comparisons being somewhat culturally confusing for us, the picture is clear, he is enraptured with her. When he’s with her, he can’t take his eyes off of her. He is mad in love with his bride to be. So much in love that he doesn’t see her faults (and you gotta know there’s a wrinkle or two). So taken with her that any spot she may possess is overshadowed by his overriding love for her.

Now, I think we should understand the Song of Songs literally. There’s a lot to be learned and appreciated in it about the dynamics of God-ordained love between a man and a woman. But I also think there’s a degree to which we can read it allegorically. And as I read these verses this morning, I can’t help but hear the Savior extolling the beauty of His Church.

Behold, you are beautiful, My love, behold, you are beautiful! . . . there is no flaw in you.

No flaw. Without fault. Perfectly perfect. In Him, that’s true! We have been washed clean. The stain of sin has been removed by the blood of the Lamb.

In Christ we are the Bride. Beautiful to behold because of the grace-driven, life-giving, work of the Son of God. And so, we can know that we are “altogether beautiful” in the eyes of our Beholder. Reminded that “Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her,” we can believe with all our heart that He is committed to presenting His bride to Himself “in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish” (Eph. 5:25-27).

As such, we look adoringly towards our Beloved with a sense of anticipation of when we shall be together!

And then, my reading took me to 1Peter 3. And whaddya’ know? More talk of what the Beholder finds beautiful to behold.

Do not let your adorning be external–the braiding of hair, the wearing of gold, or the putting on of clothing–but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious.

(1Peter 3:3-4 ESV)

Now, I know that specifically this is being addressed to wives, but let’s apply it to Christ’s bride in general. Here, the beauty which captures the Beholder’s eye is not hair like goats and teeth like sheep. No, what is of “surpassing value” in the sight of God here is the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit. A meek and tranquil being emanating from a soul running deep with an appreciation of love known and grace shown. And thus. able to exude grace itself.

Oh, we can spend so much time primping and preening and getting it all looking just right on the outside and on the inside it’s a raging mess. But our God looks below the surface and past the façade and sees the hidden person and looks for that unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit. Oh, that the we as His bride would emit such beauty.

And so, as I consider that my beauty is in the eye of the Beholder, I am first humbled and blessed to know that He sees not what I used to be . . . and not so much even what I am. But He sees what I will be in Christ when His work of holiness is complete in my life.

But I also know that I can do some “adorning.” That by His grace and the transforming work of the Spirit I can purpose to put on that which is precious in His sight–a gentle and quiet spirit.

Lord, thanks for lovin’ on me this morning. I am not worthy of such divine love. Apart from Christ I know that there is no beauty in me. But, by Your grace, I am in Christ. I am the bride being prepared for the wedding feast. I am Your beloved. And You are mine.

To You be all the glory. Amen.

Posted in 1Peter, Song of Solomon | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Not Enough Room in the Mirror

This morning I saw the effects of “the pride of Moab” played out in the elite of Jerusalem.

Jeremiah 48 records the words of the LORD as they concern the people of Moab. Not very good words. Words of judgment. Words of impending doom. How come?

Moab shall be destroyed and be no longer a people, because he magnified himself against the LORD.

(Jeremiah 48:42 ESV)

Moab magnified himself against the LORD. He exalted himself rather than God. He billed himself as great at the expense of the great God of heaven. Any question as to what such “magnification” looked like is removed as God details the indictment, identifying it as “the pride of Moab.” “He is very proud,” says the LORD, calling out his loftiness, arrogance, haughtiness of heart, and insolence which showed itself both in Moab’s fake boasting and fake deeds (48:29-30). And when it comes to being magnified, when it comes to receiving the glory, the glory of man and the glory of God cannot coexist. One is set against the other. Like those old westerns, when it comes to the glory of man and the glory of God, “this town ain’t big enough for the two of us!” And there’s gonna be a showdown.

When it comes to His glory, God don’t share!

True of ancient Moab? True of New Testament Israel.

“How can you believe, when you receive glory from one another and do not seek the glory that comes from the only God?”    ~ Jesus

(John 5:44 ESV)

It’s only the fifth chapter of John’s twenty-one chapter gospel and already the Jews, the religious elite of Jesus’ day, were seeking to kill Him. Not just because they thought He was breaking the Sabbath by healing lifelong invalids on the seventh day of the week (5:1-17), but because “He was even calling God His own Father, making Himself equal with God” (5:18).

That’s because He was equal with God! He was the Word. The Word that was with God and the Word that was God (John 1:1). Come as the manifest glory of God.

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)

But there was no room for any more glory among the Jews. They were consumed with their own glory. Their great occupation was to receive glory from one another . . . heaven need not apply. They had jumped on the Moab-mania bandwagon. Self-exalting, self-promoting, and self-sufficient people who only had eyes for themselves. Whose mirror was so occupied with their own light that there was no room for the Light of the world.

They had magnified themselves against the LORD. No room to believe in another because they so believed in themselves.

And as I chew on the pride of Moab and the self-glorification of the Jews, I’m reminded that it’s not an issue of how big “the town” is. Not a matter of whether or not there’s room in the mirror for both me and my God. But that my God is a God who will not give His glory to another (Isa. 48:11).

It’s not about sharing the spotlight, it’s about whose spotlight it is. My glory and God’s glory cannot coexist. My pride finds no place in His presence. They don’t get along. One is set against the other.

It’s not like I can believe in Jesus while still believing in me. When I’m seeking my glory, it will impact my faith. The Jews could not believe or receive the glory of God before them because they were so concerned about their own glory and exaltation. Similarly, if I’m focused on establishing how I great I think I am, it’s going to impact knowing how great my Father truly is.

Not enough room in the mirror for both He and me.

He must increase, I must decrease (John 3:30).

Because of His grace . . . and for His glory alone.

Posted in Jeremiah, John | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Like Living Stones

That God is in the midst of a building program is clear in Scripture. He is the architect. He is also the developer, the sub-contractor, and the tradesman. He even supplies all the material.

And it’s recycled material. All of it, at one point, soiled. All of it, apart from His great makeover program, damaged goods. But all of it now redeemed and renewed such that it is suitable for God’s design and purposes. Material which cost the Father dearly to secure, but which He delighted to purchase for this one of kind eternal structure. Material which is being laid in the context of a Foundation which is perfect–a Chief Cornerstone, elect, precious –a Living Stone chosen by God. Material which has been reconstituted to take on the properties of the Foundation. Material like living stones.

As you come to Him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.

(1Peter 2:4-5 ESV)

Man! What a building program! What a high and lofty structure! A living, breathing sanctuary . . . a people-building. Designed to function as a God-ordained priesthood. Given the sacred occupation of offering up spiritual sacrifices to the Father through the Son. In Ephesians it says that this structure has been architected such that each member is fit together perfectly so that it grows into a holy temple, being built together for a dwelling place of God in the Spirit (Eph2:20-22).

And the materials? That would be us. Believers in the Lord Jesus Christ. Those who believe Jesus is the Son of God sent from heaven. Those who have placed their faith fully in His finished work of redemption on the cross. Those who have been regenerated and made new. Like I said, one-hundred percent of the material used for God’s great building program has been recycled.

We, along with every believer through the ages, are like living stones. Purchased at great cost. Having no “textile” quality in ourselves but given new “properties” suitable for building with when we were made new creations in Christ. Having been made living stones just like THE LIVING STONE. Ransomed into the likeness of Christ for the purpose of being conformed to the image of Christ, and all this so that we might be incorporated into the building whose foundation is Christ.

Like living stones being built into a spiritual house . . . that’s us! We’re each a piece of the puzzle . . . a small shard of colored glass in the mosaic . . . a measure in the opus . . . one face on a multi-faceted diamond. We are living stones shaped and fitted as He has determined. Placed exactly where He wants. Woven into an eternal design for the purpose of offering up spiritual sacrifices to the One who alone is worthy to receive honor. Like living stones, we’ve been put together for the glory of God.

What a privilege. What an undeserved, grace wrought privilege. To be counted as living stones fit for His sanctuary. To be recruited into a holy priesthood with such a high and holy calling. To be cemented eternally with His Son to form a house of eternal praise. It really is a bit overwhelming.

And who’s up to the task? Not me in my own power. Not me in my own strength and determination. But the life I now live as a living stone, I live by faith in the Son of God — THE LIVING STONE — who loved me and gave Himself for me (Gal 2:20). And the textile strength I possess as needed for such an unearthly structure is that of the indwelling Spirit of God — the power of the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead (Rom. 8:11). And the “right” I have to consider myself suited for such a grandiose building program is the right I have been freely given as a child adopted by the Father (Gal. 4:4-7).

Like living stones. Who da’ thought? God thought. And thus, He bought us, and He brought us, into this amazing building program.

All by His grace. All for His glory.

Posted in 1Peter | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Ransomed from the Vapors

Vapor of vapors . . . all of it is vapor. As the Preacher draws his musings to an end in Ecclesiastes he can’t shake the overall futility he feels as he nears the end of his race (Eccl. 12:8). As he considers that he will be but dust returning to the earth and but a spirit returning to God (12:7), as he thinks of man going to his eternal home (12:5), he really has no idea where that home is nor what it may offer. He knows enough to exhort his readers to remember their Creator in the days of their youth (12:1), fearing Him and keeping His commandments (12:13), but he really doesn’t know why. Because, as he has said all along, for all his wisdom, he only knows about life “under the sun.”

Vapor of vapors, it’s just a vapor. Such are the final words of perhaps the wisest man who every walked the earth. Such are the conclusions drawn after a life of such power and privilege that few of us can even imagine it. What a depressing epitaph. Who wants that on their tombstone?

But then I read the words of a fisherman who was also increasingly becoming aware that his end was drawing near. Someone, unlike the Preacher, who never had much money and never really saw or experienced much of the world that was “under the sun.” But someone who was pretty confident of what lay beyond the sun. Someone who eagerly anticipated crossing the finish line. Someone who was leaning into the tape rather than fearing it. Someone who had given up on the vapor of this world that he might lay hold of the inheritance of the world to come.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to His great mercy, He has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, . . . knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.

(1Peter 1:3-4, 18-19 ESV)

Solomon knew a dying futility. Peter had been born again into a living hope. Solomon had no idea what lay beyond the grave–his vast knowledge and wisdom coming up empty when he considered his eternal home. Peter could taste his inheritance, confident that what was kept in heaven for him was beyond anything he had ever known or imagined. Solomon was entrapped in the vapor of life under the sun, while Peter was been ransomed from such futility through the blood of the Son.

“Ransomed from the futile ways.” That’s the phrase I’m chewing on this morning.

The futile ways. “Vain conversation” is how the old King James puts it. The NIV translates it “the empty way of life.” Peterson in The Message calls it “that dead-end, empty-headed life you grew up in.” Solomon called it vanity of vanities . . . vapor of vapors.

But, for the believer, we have been redeemed from the futile ways. We have been ransomed from the vapors.

The finished work of the cross has not only dealt with our sin problem once for all, it also has dealt with our significance problem. We’ve traded in striving for what this world has to offer for storing up that which heaven says it values. Our concern is less with the legacy we will leave behind and more about preparing for the life that lies ahead. Thus, unlike Solomon whose energy for living ebbed as he anticipated the grave, we, like Peter, increase in vitality has we draw nearer and nearer to our living hope–a hope made sure through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.

We have been saved from futility. We have been liberated from purposelessness. We have been ransomed from the vapors.

All because of His marvelous grace. All for His everlasting glory.

Amen?

Posted in 1Peter, Ecclesiastes | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Decreasing Ministry

If he had really cared about the ministry he would have done something. He would have seen it was flagging. That the crowds were growing thinner. That his influence was diminishing. And he would have gone back to the drawing board. What needs to change? How do we revitalize the message? If he had really cared about the ministry he would done what he could have done that it might increase.

In fact, he did care about the ministry. He did see it winding down. He wasn’t blind to the smaller numbers. He knew they were going somewhere else. Not as many followers as he once had. Fewer coming to him to be baptized. More and more going to the other baptizer. But no need to white board a new strategy. No need to ramp up a new ad campaign. Everything was going according to plan. He really did care about the ministry. And it must decrease.

And they came to John and said to him, “Rabbi, He who was with you across the Jordan, to whom you bore witness–look, He is baptizing, and all are going to Him.” John answered, “A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven. You yourselves bear me witness, that I said, ‘I am not the Christ, but I have been sent before Him.’ The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegrooms voice. Therefore this joy of mine is now complete. He must increase, but I must decrease.”

(John 3:26-30 ESV)

Plain and simple, John wasn’t much concerned with John. Though he stood apart from the crowd (cool clothes and a radical organic diet will do that), his concern was for the kingdom. He cared little about the notoriety he was receiving but wanted people to behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. His motivation was less about counting the fruit of his labors and more about being faithful to the call of his Lord. The numbers were going down. True. But the Bridegroom was being lifted up. And that’s what mattered. That was the measure of success. Though he decreased, if the Master increased, his joy would be over the top.

I’m going to venture to say that nobody searches for insignificance. No one’s really looking to grow into less influence. No one’s really jazzed by the thought of fading into the background. That most of us work hard in order to have something to show for it. But John’s ministry reached its full potential when his river was empty and Jesus’ river was full. When the people waiting to be baptized by him disappeared and crowd control was necessary for those waiting to be cleansed by Him whose shoes John considered himself unworthy to tie (John 1:27).

John knew he could only offer water for those who desired to repent, but that Jesus would baptize with the Spirit those who would be reborn. John identified the problem, Jesus provided the solution. The hope for people lie not in the strength of John’s ministry but in the strength of John’s message. And that message wasn’t about him, it was about his Savior. Not about “me” . . . but all about Messiah.

John took no credit for the numbers baptized. He cared little as to whether the crowds were viewed as his crowds. I don’t think he even saw it as being his ministry–for “a person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven.”

Rather, I think he cared only about faithfully discharging the stewardship entrusted to him by the Master. Every morning he got up and went to the river, because that’s what God had called him to. He dunked people as long as people wanted to be dunked because that’s the part he been given to play in salvation’s symphony. And though his part diminished, his joy increased because the music was being heard.

He must increase, but I must decrease . . . that this joy of mine might be now complete.

John cared about the ministry. So much so that he was willing to let it die. His was a decreasing ministry.

By the grace of God.  For the glory of God.

Amen?

Posted in John | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

The Lord is a Warrior

I just don’t know that you’re going to find it in a list of the names of Jehovah. Can’t ever recall seeing it among His attributes or included as part of a role of descriptors Scripture uses of His nature. Too be sure, if it were included it would be in under the “lesser used” category–only once, as a I can see. But it jumped off the page this morning as I was reading in Jeremiah. A picture of God that I rarely consider. But a two-word descriptor of the LORD which so characterizes Him as Jeremiah declares God’s “enough is enough” response to the sin of His people. My God is a dread warrior!

But the LORD is with me as a dread warrior; therefore my persecutors will stumble; they will not overcome me.

(Jeremiah 20:11a ESV)

For Jeremiah, the proclamation had turned personal. He was no longer “just the messenger,” he had become the message. When the leaders denounced the warning of impending Babylonian captivity, they denounced Jeremiah. When the people laughed at and mocked God’s warning of judgment because of their stiff-necked disobedience, they laughed at and mocked Jeremiah. When they were angered by God’s no-holds-barred condemnation of their adulteress idolatry, they turned their anger on Jeremiah.

And in the midst of a prayer of desperation born out of the persecution he was enduring, Jeremiah, moved by the Spirit, encourages himself with these words, “But the LORD is with me as a dread warrior.”

Jeremiah had prophesied of the outstretched hand which God would raise against His people for their persistent rebellion. He had declared God’s intent to Himself fight against His chosen people with a strong arm, “in anger and in fury and in great wrath” (21:5). And, in a time of great personal need, Jeremiah was reminded that this warrior God would fight on his behalf as well.

How often do I reflect on my God as a God ready to engage in warfare? When’s the last time I mediated on the meek and lowly Jesus and remembered that He too is a warrior?

Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse! The one sitting on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness He judges and makes war. . . From His mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and He will rule them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. On His robe and on His thigh He has a name written, King of kings and Lord of lords.

(Revelation 19:11, 15-16 ESV)

Our God took on the record of debt that stood against us because of our sin, setting it aside by nailing it to the cross, thus disarming “the rulers and authorities” that stood against us (Col. 2:13-15). And He put them to shame by triumphing over them in Christ.

The Lord is a warrior.

Not only is sin defeated, but He has freed us from the slavery of the fear of death. Through His death, and by His resurrection, the Christ has gone toe-to-toe with “the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil” (Heb. 2:14) And He is destroying him! The fear of death wiped out for everyone who comes to faith in the Lord of life.

The Lord is a warrior.

And while we yet wrestle not “against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Eph. 6:12), the promise is ours that one day the fight will be over. That “the God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet” (Rom. 16:20).

The Lord is a warrior.

Mighty in the cosmic battles of eternity, awesome in power for the earthly skirmishes of time and space. Ready to fight the beast, ready to draw alongside His beloved.

The Lord is a warrior. Might we, as did Jeremiah, rest and rejoice in Him.

Sing to the LORD; praise the LORD!
For He has delivered the life of the needy from the hand of evildoers.

(Jeremiah 20:13 ESV)

By His grace. For His glory.

Posted in Jeremiah | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Tapping Into Grace

As the saying goes, “What you win them with is what you win them to.” So, for those of us who know that any merit we have before a holy God is by grace alone, we desire nothing more than that grace would abound. Having been saved by grace, we are sold on grace. We have tasted and seen that God’s grace is good. Thus, we have an appetite for God’s grace and desire it more. His grace has been weighed in the balance and found to be all-sufficient. As such, His grace is sought for the day in order that it might be ever-sustaining. Newton’s song has become our song: God’s grace, His unmerited favor, has brought us “safe thus far,” and that same unmerited favor will “lead us home.” Grace, more grace. We thirst for grace.

So how do we tap into grace? James, at least in part, provides the answer.

But He gives more grace. Therefore it says, “God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.”

(James 4:6 ESV)

God gives more grace. Doesn’t matter how much grace we’ve know, there’s more. No matter how big grace has been in our lives, it can occupy even more space. Regardless of how amazing it’s been, we ain’t seen nothing yet. To sort of quote someone else, grace is an ocean and we’re all sinking.

So, if He’s giving, how can I be receiving?

God gives grace to the humble. James said it. Peter said it (1Peter 5:5). The smartest and wisest guy to ever live said it (Prov. 3:34). Do I really believe it?

Humility. Not exactly my default position. Something about the flesh that wants to exalt the flesh. Something about the natural man that wants to lift up the natural man. Something about me that kind of wants to promote me. But something that James says God opposes.

Peter says I am to clothe myself in humility. I am to cover myself in my “littleness.” Instead of standing up for myself, I’m better off to keep low to the ground.

And it’s not, as again others have said, that I am to be occupied with thinking little of myself, it’s that I shouldn’t be occupied with thinking of myself at all. Humbling myself, as Christ did, by making myself nothing, taking the form of a servant, and counting others more significant than myself (Php. 2:3-7).

Lowliness opens the flood gates of grace. Humility invites revival from Him who dwells in a high and holy place. Contrition is the calling card by which heaven RSVP’s with a life-energizing loving-kindness sourced in Him who inhabits eternity (Isa. 57:15).

God gives grace to the humble. Yes He does!

Abundantly flowing grace for His everlasting glory!

Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will exalt you.

(James 4:10 ESV)

Posted in James | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Let Your Words Be Few

It would seem that for the Preacher not an area of life was exempt from frustration if lived out but “under the sun.” He had sought wisdom, he had worked hard. He had held back no desire which his heart desired, and took extreme living to the max. His riches were beyond counting, his accomplishments had been recorded for posterity, and his bucket list was complete. Yet he hated life “because what is done under the sun was grievous to me, for all is vanity and a striving after wind” (Eccl. 2:17).

And as I continue to read Solomon’s ledger of his pursuit of meaning and his failure to find it, I’m hovering over the fact that what was true in every other area of his life was also true of his pursuit of God.

Guard your steps when you go to the house of God. To draw near to listen is better than to offer the sacrifice of fools, for they do not know that they are doing evil. Be not rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be hasty to utter a word before God, for God is in heaven and you are on earth. Therefore let your words be few.

(Ecclesiastes 5:1-2 ESV)

How easy it had been to simply carry over the bravado with which he had lived life into the temple. Without a second thought he could offer sacrifice without limit because of his wealth. To sing God’s praise had become second nature. After all, his dad had written the Psalter, he could sing most of the songs from memory. And, being somewhat of an orator and writer himself, prayer could flow freely from his lips–whether or not his mind was engaged with any of the words his mouth uttered. Easy to go through the motions. Easy to go big even if it was meaningless and without substance. Even in the house of God.

Thus, concludes the son of David as he takes stock of this area of his life, when you go to the house of God, guard your steps . . . let your words be few.

And as I chew on this I can’t help but heed his words. The vast majority of my Sunday mornings over the past 38 years have been spent in “the house of God.” Though specific practices have varied, for the most part the elements are the same. Go, connect with God’s people, offer sacrifices of praise through song, receive the meat of the Word from the pulpit, remember at the Lord’s table, serve as able. Repeat next week . . . and the week after that . . . and that week after that . . .

Shouldn’t be surprising if it can kind of become routine. Not beyond the realm of possibility that meaning might decrease and mindlessness might increase. That what is increasingly familiar can spawn that which kind of feels futile. That vitality can be lost and vanity is all that is left.

So guard your steps, says the Preacher, when you go to the house of the God. Think about where you are going and what you about to do. Remember whose presence you seek to enter. For God is in heaven and we are on earth.

So draw near to listen. Recognize that each week the seed is being sown. As much as lies within you, ensure the soil is ready to receive it. Lean in, engage fully, and “receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls” (James 1:21).

So watch your tongue. “Dont shoot off your mouth” (MSG). Before you add your amen to the prayers, think about what you are agreeing with. As you sing those songs, “dont be too quick to tell God what you think He wants to hear” (MSG). Measure your words. Monitor your utterances. Let your words be few.

Even good things can become vain things if allowed to be simply done “under the sun.”

But when the people of God . . . enter mindfully into the presence of God . . . to engage by the Spirit of God . . . in lifting up the Son of God . . . then, by the grace of God, will be known the glory of God.

Amen?

Posted in Ecclesiastes, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

You Saw Me

Philip was pretty sure Jesus was Messiah. Nathanael? Not so much. Philip had met Jesus and encountered Him. Nathanael hadn’t. Understandably then, he was somewhat skeptical–his skepticism fueled by a couple of things. First, he could not recall anything in Scripture indicating that Messiah would be from Nazareth. Secondly, as far as cities go, Nazareth wasn’t anything to write home about–it was definitely the other side of the tracks. Thus his objection, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” And thus Philip’s charge to Nathanael, “Come and see” . . . check Him out . . . judge for yourself.

But who had really checked out who?

As Nathanael nears the Carpenter from Nazareth, Jesus gets pretty familiar pretty fast, “There’s a real Israelite, not a false bone in his body” (MSG). And I’m thinking it isn’t just what Jesus said but how He said it that set Nathanael back on his heels a bit. There was an authority. Something that conveyed that Jesus wasn’t guessing this to be true but really knew it to be true. A sense that not only did Jesus know this to be true, but that He knew a lot more about Nathanael than He was revealing at the moment. So Nathanael asks, “How do You know me?” And Jesus responds:

“Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you.”

(John 1:48b ESV)

And that sealed the deal for Nathanael. Jesus of Nazareth had seen him when no one but God could. Jesus the son of Joseph had spoken words that indicated that He knew Nathanael from the inside out. And this skeptic’s response?

Nathanael answered him, Rabbi, You are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!

(John 1:49 ESV)

And the three words that capture my thoughts this morning are Messiah’s declaration, “I saw you.”

Seen by the Son. Known by the Father. Searched through by the Spirit. No place to hide . . . no secrets that can be buried. “I saw you.”

And while I think this can be a pretty frightening concept to grasp–total transparency before a holy, holy, holy God–yet I find a measure of comfort in that these words true of Nathaniel are also true of me. Comfort, not because I’m squeaky clean and my house is all in order. The encouragement is not found in me thinking that there’s nothing I would rather He didn’t see, because there is stuff I wish wasn’t there. But it’s in the fact that it is Jesus who’s doing the seeing.

The Author of my salvation is the One who knows where I am and how I’m doing. The only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth (John 1:14), is the One who knows those things that I wish weren’t there to be known. He whose blood was shed to cover all my sin knows my failures. It is God’s blessed Servant, He who “will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle” (Isa. 42:3 NLT), who knows my compromised state and the things I would just as soon keep hidden.

And there’s a sense in which I marvel that He would even want to see me “under the fig tree.” That He would care enough to know my goings and comings. That He would be interested in my walk . . . would take note of my talk . . . and would search and know the motives behind both. For, in so doing, it is not to judge and condemn, but that it would direct His on-going work of sanctification within me. It’s part of His divinely initiated transformation process. That Jesus would see us . . . and know us . . . and, as a Potter, uniquely shape us based on what He has determined for us to become.

The words of the Psalmist come to mind . . .

O LORD, You have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; You discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. . . . How precious to me are Your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! . . . Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!

(Psalm 139:1-3, 17, 23-24 ESV)

To know that Jesus sees us . . . how incredible is that? Pretty!

By His grace. For His glory.

Posted in John | Tagged , , | Leave a comment