Praise Befits the Upright

A friend of mine’s dad is from the old country. Not the most learned man. A simple, hard-working, kind-hearted, Jesus-loving man. English always kind of his second language. And my friend used to tell the story of how, one day when as a family they sat around the table during family devotions while his dad read from Our Daily Bread (or some other similar type of devotional), that his dad concluded his reading with saying, “That anonymous fellow sure writes good stuff!” I’m reading some of his “good stuff” this morning.

We don’t know who wrote the thirty-third psalm. But it fuels my fire.

Shout for joy in the LORD, O you righteous!
Praise befits the upright.

(Psalm 33:1 ESV)

It’s addressed to the righteous. And that would be me. Not because of anything I have done, but all because of what’s been done FOR me and what’s being done IN me. My righteousness is that of Another. It is a righteousness credited to my account on the basis of faith alone, faith which I also can take no credit for; “it is the gift of God” (Eph. 2:8). It is a righteousness given me as a robe (Isa. 61:10), a covering that comes as part of the garments of salvation secured for me through the finished work of a perfect, spotless Lamb on a cruel cross. A righteousness that is becoming more and more a part of me as God’s Spirit works God’s purpose in me, transforming me by the renewal of my mind (Rom. 12:2) and conforming me to the likeness of His Son (Rom. 8:29). And so, says the songwriter, “Shout for joy in the LORD, O you righteous!”

Of all the translations I think the ESV captures the exhortation best. Some say “rejoice”, others say “sing”, but my handy-dandy online lexicon says the word has the idea of giving “a ringing cry.” Not just singing, but exuberant singing. To cry out. To so express joy that it vibrates off the walls and it echoes down the halls. Do it, you righteous, pens the songwriter, and do it big!

And here’s the phrase that grabs me every time I hover over this song. Praise befits the upright.

There are some things that just go together. Pen and paper (or, for the e-enabled, finger and tablet). Thunder and lightning. Nuts and bolts. Salt and pepper. Mac ‘n cheese. You get the idea. Probably wouldn’t take a lot of thought to add to the list yourself. There are some things that, when you see the one, you expect it won’t be long before you see the other. Some things that were made to be linked together. Praise and the upright are among those things.

I know people are naturally wired differently when it comes to “the music in them.” That not everyone is equally predisposed to singing. That some are more reserved than others. But, so says the inspired word of God, praise befits the upright. It’s comely. It’s seemly. It’s what you’d expect from those who have been rescued, redeemed, reconciled, and refitted with a righteousness not their own.

Honestly, I don’t get songless saints. And I’m not talking about those who don’t sing because they don’t like the sound of their own voice. I have seen many shout for joy in the presence of the LORD without opening their mouths. Their faces turned heavenward, their eyes closed, their hands over their hearts or raised in exaltation. But what I don’t get are the disinterested, the distracted, and the disengaged.

When God’s people come together, shouldn’t that be prime time for heeding the psalmist’s encouragement? A bit of shouting on Sunday mornings would seem appropriate. A bit of joy and praise would seem befitting. Who has more to sing of than the righteous? Who has more reason to praise the God of salvation than those who bear the garments of His blessed Son? I’m thinking no one. That singing and shouting, that joy and praise, are just what you should find when God’s people get together.

That anonymous fellow sure writes good stuff!

Shout because of grace . . . shout for God’s glory!

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At the Center

It isn’t about us. How often do we remind ourselves of that? And true enough. We are not the main event. We are not the kings of our kingdoms. We are not the sun around which everything else revolves. But as I read the thirty-second psalm this morning, I am reminded that, while it may not be about me, at least in one respect, I am at the center.

Many are the sorrows of the wicked,
    but steadfast love surrounds the one who trusts in the LORD.   

(Psalm 32:10 ESV)

Surrounded by the steadfast love of the LORD. Encompassed by His lovingkindness. Enveloped with unfailing mercy and faithfulness.

Activate your divine GPS and that’s where you’ll find the one who trusts in the LORD . . . at the center of God’s steadfast love.

There’s a sense in this word of to march, or go about something. The steadfast love of God assembled around the believer, marching like Joshua’s army around a helpless city. But unlike Joshua, surrounding it not to destroy it, but to protect it, to fortify it, to make known to it the abiding light of His never-ending presence. That’s the promise for the one who trusts in the LORD. To be at the center.

Just as we are enveloped by the air, just as we are encompassed by sunlight, so we are fully encased by God’s unfailing love. Not that we don’t have similar trials as “the wicked.” Not that we don’t experience sorrow as do those who refuse divine compassion and care. But our sorrows are fewer, for His presence brings a peace beyond understanding. Our burdens are lighter, for His unfailing mercy helps us carry the load. Our grieving is tempered by the foretaste of an eternal love and life that is ours even now. Our trials being but “momentary afflictions” giving way eventually to “an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2Cor. 4:17). And that eternal weight of glory is experienced in part now as we find ourselves at the center of His love.

It’s so easy when trials come to feel on the outskirts of God’s presence and love. The enemy seeks to cull the hurting sheep from the flock, planting thoughts of being separated from the Great Shepherd’s care. Trying to have us believe that we are on the periphery of God’s line-of-sight and that we need to go it alone amidst our struggles. Untrue, declares the songwriter. Far from being cast to the fringes of divine favor, the song reminds us that, as one writer put it, for those whose confidence is in the LORD, that “man hath God for his circumference.”

Look up, look down. Look left, look right. Steadfast love surrounds the one who trusts in the LORD.

It’s not about us, but we are at the center of His unfailing love. We are not the main event, but we are the objects of divine grace and compassion. We are but servants in His kingdom and His is the throne, but we are also so loved of the King that He has redeemed us at great price and has determined that none will be snatched from His hand. We’re not the sun, but we know who the Son is, being found in Him and having been invited to abide in Him as a branch draws strength from the Vine. While He is preeminent, we are at the center, surrounded by unfaltering lovingkindness.

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

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Behind the Scenes

Re-working and re-running some thoughts from 2010 . . .

Some are fascinated by powerful displays of the Holy Spirit, I’m probably more intrigued by imperceptible directions. Some look for the signs and wonders, I’m trying to get better at hearing His voice. Some would say that it’s outward manifestations that really indicate your spirituality, I’m thinking it’s more the inward dynamics. That’s probably why a phrase in Acts 19 caught my attention this morning or, . . . maybe it’s the subtle moving of the Spirit.

Now after these events Paul resolved in the Spirit to pass through Macedonia and Achaia and go to Jerusalem, saying, “After I have been there, I must also see Rome.”

(Acts 19:21 ESV)

Paul certainly was familiar with the “Richter scale” side of the Holy Spirit. You know, that side of the Spirit that can really shake things up. He had seen visions, done miracles, witnessed countless new believers speaking in tongues and prophesying, indicating that they too had received the Holy Spirit through faith in Christ. But Paul also knew the less obvious side of the Spirit. That one-on-one, inside the head and heart dynamic. Paul knew how to interact with the Holy Spirit or, perhaps more accurately, knew how to let the Holy Spirit interact with Him.

Paul was sent out on his missionary journey by the Holy Spirit (Acts 13:4) and, while the Holy Spirit manifested Himself in many physical and mighty ways throughout Paul’s spreading of the gospel, you also know that the Spirit of God was working just as effectively behind the scenes, directing Paul along the way. And it’s the “behind the scenes” stuff that fascinates me. It’s wanting to know that interaction in secret that has compelled me to want to know practically how to “walk by the Spirit” (Gal. 5:16), be “led by the Spirit” (Gal. 5:18), and “live by the Spirit” (Gal. 5:25).

And so, Paul’s in Ephesus and he has to make a decision as to where he should go next. And he determines he’s to head over to the regions of Macedonia and Achaia, then on to Jerusalem, and then make his way to Rome. But, it’s not just him deciding, is it? It says that “Paul resolved in the Spirit.”  The NKJV says “He purposed in the Spirit”, making it pretty clear, I think, that there’s some sort of inner communion / voice / leading type of dynamic going on here. (Unfortunately, the NIV and MSG omit the Spirit’s influence here altogether, and thus I think omit a significant insight into how Paul ticked . . . or how the Holy Spirit was actively ticking in him.)

So, I’m sitting asking myself, “What does ‘resolving in the Spirit’ look like?” What does it mean to purpose to do something in the Spirit? What’s going on behind the scenes?

While I certainly don’t think I have this fully figured out, I guess there are some pieces to this that I’m pretty sure are involved. First, there’s giving the Spirit something to work with and I think that starts with filling up on the Word of God. I’m thinking that the Spirit interacts best with spiritually minded people. That He communicates the mind of God most effectively to those who have sought the mind of God through God’s own revelation. Sure, there may be times when we “hear voices”, but I’m guessing that most often He will assist our decision making as He prompts us by bringing Scripture or a biblical principle to mind.

I’m also thinking that communion is pretty important to practically knowing what it is to “resolve in the Spirit.” Jesus called it “abiding” in John 15. The persistent pursuit of being attached to the Vine. That steady determination to remain “in Him” and keep our lives clear of junk so that He remains “in us.” It’s wanting to know Him. It’s wanting to be known by Him. It’s being heavenly minded. Our focus set on things above and not things of this earth. And, it’s about priorities. Desiring to put Him first in all things . . . and to do all things as unto Him . . . and to desire that all aspects of our lives would, in some way, bring Him glory.

And then, I think it’s about expecting to interact with the Spirit. I’m becoming more convinced that the reason we may not know His leading . . . the reason we haven’t experienced making a decision knowing that the Spirit has participated and guided, is because we simply don’t expect it. We don’t hear His voice because we’re not listening for it. And sometimes, when we do hear it–that inner prompting, that “gut feeling”–we don’t give Him the credit, but think we were the ones who came up with the idea. Oh, that I might expect to interact “real time” with the Holy Spirit.  That I might recognize His voice more.  That I might hear it more clearly.

O to live in the reality of what happens behind the scenes. To know the Son’s leading for the Father’s pleasure through the “in the secret” prompting of the Holy Spirit.

All by grace. All for His glory.

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What Is It?

It’s somewhat fascinating how quickly the glow of God’s manifest glory can fade. And it’s not an issue with the nature of God’s glory, but a reflection of the feebleness of His people’s memories.

I’m reading in Exodus 16 this morning. The nation has just come off a time of great celebration. Walking through a wall of water has a way of turning on the party lights. They have been singing to Lord. They have been dancing to the Lord. They have been rejoicing in the Lord. How come? Because they are on the other side of the Red Sea and their enemies are not. But no sooner do the lights go out then, on the morning after the night before, the singing turns to grumbling.

Because, on the other side of the Red Sea, there’s a wilderness. A legitimate wilderness. Not much water. Not much food. And when you compare it to Egypt (if you can ignore the slavery, bondage, and oppression) it comes up kind of short. And despite having witnessed the power of God through ten mind-blowing plagues. Despite having seen the grace of God as the blood of the lamb on their door posts spared the lives of their firstborn. With seemingly no thought to the fact that they are hauling around the treasures of the land of their captivity. Having seemingly forgotten that they have just walked through a great sea. As the people start to interact with the desert, they murmur. As they walk in the wilderness, they complain. And they wonder about going back to Egypt.

Their wilderness experience is real. Their thirst is real. Their hunger is real. But what they fail to remember is that their God is real. And so, to remind them that He is real, He says He will feed them.

I have heard the grumbling of the people of Israel. Say to them, At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall be filled with bread. Then you shall know that I am the LORD your God.

(Exodus 16:12 ESV)

And they wake up one morning and on the ground is God’s gracious provision, “a fine, flake-like thing, fine as frost on the ground” (16:14). Not quite like anything they had seen before. Not quite like anything they had tasted before. Certainly something that had never seen served up in this manner before.

When the people of Israel saw it, they said to one another, What is it?

(Exodus 16:15a ESV)

God met their needs outside of their expectations. God provided with a solution beyond their imagination. What they felt was their greatest need on earth was met with divine provision from heaven. And they said, “What is it?” Original word? . . . Manna.

“It is the bread God has given you to eat,” Moses tells them. Gather it. Pick it up. Digest it. As much as you can eat. It will be sufficient for the day. None will have too much. No one will have too little (16:15b-18). And the people said to one another, “Manna.” What is it?

And I’m thinking that sometimes, when I’m wandering in the wilderness, I too think I know what I need. I know what God should do and how He should do it and when it should be done. And, when it doesn’t pan out or fit into my timing, though I’ve known His past provision, I can find myself murmuring and complaining. Instead, I should be waiting and anticipating His provision. Even if that provision is “What is it?”

God has not directed where He will not lead. He has not sent on pilgrimage without thought of how He will provide. He doesn’t lead us through great victory into a wilderness experience so that we might figure out how to go it alone. No, in fact the wilderness, often, is so that He might feed us that we might know afresh that He is the LORD our God. So let’s not be surprised if God meets our needs in surprising ways. If, in the morning, we find that how He’s provided is in a way we never expected.

And we’ll praise Him, even as we ask, “What is it?” We’ll marvel in Him, even as we partake in bread from heaven. And we’ll worship Him, even as we eat the manna.

What is it . . . a reminder of God’s grace. Manna . . . a reason to give God glory!

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A Believing Believer

Paul’s choked. He’s bent out of shape. He’s irritated. Or, to use biblical language, “his spirit was provoked within him” (Acts 17:16). At what? At Athens, a city full of idols. Objects of worship on every street corner. Altars for worship never very far away. High-minded philosophers willing to bow down to the next latest and greatest deity. Religious people who are dead to spiritual realities. And the longer Paul waited in Athens for Silas and Timothy, the angrier he got (MSG).

And, as Paul wanders about a dark city, he comes upon an altar with this inscription: TO THE UNKNOWN GOD.

There it is! That’s “the hook” . . . there’s Paul’s in . . . this is the bridge, the connect point. They recognize an unknown god and Paul says, “Him I proclaim to you” (17:23).

And Paul proceeds to reason with them concerning this God. He identifies their “unknown God” as the Creator of all things . . . including all mankind. So, he reasons, if man is the “offspring” of God, then it’s ludicrous to think that “that the Divine Being is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of man” (17:29). Paul further declares that God has said “enough” to this ignorance and has revealed Himself through Jesus, a Man He has appointed to judge the world in righteousness on a day already set; “and of this He has given assurance to all by raising Him from the dead” (17:31).

There it is. From ignorance concerning an unknown God to revelation of His resurrected anointed One. So now what?

And it’s the responses of these philosophers that’s captured my attention this morning.

Now when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some mocked. But others said, “We will hear you again about this.” . . . But some men joined him and believed . . .

(Acts 17:32, 34a ESV)

Three different responses to divine revelation. Some mocked; some put it off; some believed.

And while these men were responding to the gospel message, I’m thinking it has applicability to any matter requiring faith. I’m thinking that, in this, there is a warning to me.

That, from time to time, I too am presented with truths concerning God that might seem kind of out there or too good to be true. Or truths that I might think are really more applicable for some other believer, but not so much for me. Or portions of God’s word that challenge me, that take me out of my comfort zone and force me to make a decision about whether or not God’s word is to be believed at a “next level.”

And in those instances, I’m thinking, I can respond in one of three ways.

First possible response? Mock it. Make fun of it. Brush it off and make light of it. Hopefully this is a very rare response . . . as in non-existent. But if I’m honest with myself, are there times that I’ve thought, “Might be true for those in bible times, but not for me, now?” Or, “That’s just a pat answer. Only the naïve would bet on such simplistic platitudes?” I’m thinking I need to beware of taking God’s word lightly.

Secondly, and more likely, rather than responding with mockery, I might be prone to just saying, “Hmmm . . . interesting . . . I’ll deal with that later.” Not putting it down, but putting it off. Not brushing it off, but placing it on the shelf. How dangerous can that be? When I start ignoring the voice of God, when my heart is pricked and I just choose to defer it and move on, what might happen then? What are the chances that if I keep turning a deaf ear to God’s voice, eventually He stops talking? Not a good response to presume that, at some more convenient time or season, that then I’ll deal with revealed truth.

Or, my response to the things of God can be like those who joined Paul and believed. To receive truth, believe truth, and act on truth. To be a “verb believer” . . . an active believer . . . one who readily exercises their faith in response to the precepts and promises of God’s word. Who won’t settle for being a “noun believer” . . . someone who just wears the title “believer” because they’ve accepted Christ as Savior.

To be a believing believer.  To be a man of faith.  Ready to hear God’s voice.  Ready to receive God’s word.  Ready to be shaken from my status quo.  Ready to follow.

“I believe; help my unbelief!”      (Mark 9:24 ESV)

By God’s grace . . . for God’s glory.

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Making a Memory

Don’t know why, but as I read the familiar story in Exodus 12 this morning, something struck me as kind of odd. The mighty signs and wonders of God through Moses and Aaron have been escalating as has the pressure for Pharaoh to let God’s people go. We’re building to a crescendo . . . a grand, never before seen, crescendo of deliverance. It’s all going to come down to this one night. If I’m Moses, I’m getting anxious. If I’m Aaron, I just can’t wait. And if I’m the people, ENOUGH ALREADY! LET’S GET OUTTA HERE!

But before that night, the Lord takes Moses and Aaron aside and says, I’m planning a feast (Ex. 12:14-20). Really?!?! Is this the time to talk about how to memorialize the significance of this soon approaching night? Couldn’t we do that after we leave Egypt? On the other side of the Red Sea, perhaps? Or as part of giving the Law on Sinai? Or maybe when our feet have actually walked in the land of promise? Evidently not!

No. After giving instructions about a spotless lamb and a necessary sacrifice, . . . after laying out that they were to eat the flesh and apply the blood, . . . after promising that “when I see the blood, I will pass over you”, . . . but before any of it actually happens, the LORD, it seems to me, pauses, looks to the future and says, I want you to remember. In effect, in addition to all that was going to be accomplished on that night, the LORD was also making a memory.

“This day shall be for you a memorial day, and you shall keep it as a feast to the LORD; throughout your generations, as a statute forever, you shall keep it as a feast. . . . And when you come to the land that the LORD will give you, as He has promised, you shall keep this service. And when your children say to you, ‘What do you mean by this service?’ you shall say, ‘It is the sacrifice of the LORDs Passover, for He passed over the houses of the people of Israel in Egypt, when He struck the Egyptians but spared our houses.'” And the people bowed their heads and worshiped.

(Exodus 12:14, 25-27 ESV)

And I’m struck by how important it was to the LORD that the night be remembered appropriately. It was to be a big deal. A week in the making. A week where no one works and everybody gets focused. Not some passing thought or mindless ritual but an intentional, effort demanding, act of remembrance. And not some optional remembrance but a command to be obeyed for generations to come.

Not just that it would memorialize His great power and mighty deeds. Not just that it would mark the start of their new beginning. But that future generations would learn of, and recall the wonder of, their great deliverance and they would worship in wonder before their great Deliverer.

Kind of reminds me of another feast instituted on the eve of another great deliverance. Another pause before a Lamb was slain, to ensure that future generations would not forget. And I’m thinking, about how important the Lord’s Supper should be in our gatherings.

Regardless of how, or how often, we participate in that feast, it should be conducted in such a way that we really are telling the story to our children. It should be taken in such a condition that we are again in awe at the mighty hand of God to save. Our participation should be purposeful, thoughtful, and cloaked in humility as we recall God’s great intervention, at great personal cost to Himself, on our behalf. As the Israelites did just before they sacrificed their Lambs, watched for their deliverance, and then walked out of bondage, we too should bow our heads and worship . . . really worship!

. . . the Lord Jesus on the night when He was betrayed took bread, and when He had given thanks, He broke it, and said, “This is My body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way also He took the cup, after supper, saying, This cup is the new covenant in My blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of Me.” For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lords death until He comes.

(1Corinthians 11:23b-26 ESV)

Making a memory . . . until He comes.

To Him be all glory.

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Vindication and Sanctification

“Judge me, O Jehovah.” That’s how Young, in his literal translation, renders the opening lyrics of David’s twenty-sixth song. The idea is that of asking a judge or a governor to weigh the evidence of a matter and render a ruling. It calls for the examination and discerning of the facts. It requests a sentence to be pronounced . . . for or against . . . true or untrue. And as I hover over David’s request this morning, it really seems like a risky thing to ask of a holy, holy, holy God who knows all things.

Vindicate me, O LORD, for I have walked in my integrity, and I have trusted in the LORD without wavering.

(Psalm 26:1 ESV)

David’s call for a verdict isn’t concerning his perfection. Instead, He asks the LORD to examine His sincerity.

I have walked in integrity . . . and I have trusted without wavering (v.1). I wash my hands in innocence (v.6) . . . and I shall continue to walk in integrity (v.11).

Not my acts, Lord, I hear David saying, but my aspiration. Not my deeds, but my desire and determination. David presents before the Judge his heart and invites Him to examine it . . . and to examine it thoroughly.

Prove me, O LORD, and try me; test my heart and my mind.

(Psalm 26:2 ESV)

A bit of lexicon lookup and you realize that David’s inviting intense scrutiny. Assay my heart, Lord, as a metal’s purity is determined by fire. Apply the heat of open examination and expose any impurities. Look me through and through. Leave no thought or intent of the heart unexamined. Look in the secret and see if there isn’t sincerity. An authentic desire to pursue You. An honest pleasure in worshiping You (v.6-7). A genuine love for “the habitation of Your house and the place where Your glory dwells” (v.8).

I read David’s petition before Jehovah and I’m reminded of a similar plea in another song of his.

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 139:23-24 ESV)

And the request for examination, the plea for vindication, was not that David might boast before God of his own righteousness. But that, because of his unwavering trust in the faithfulness of God, and his sincere determination to walk in the ways of God, he might know the grace of God to realize his desire. That the work that God had begun in him might be completed. That the nature the Father sought to form in him would be realized.

But as for me, I shall walk in my integrity; redeem me, and be gracious to me.

(Psalm 26:11 ESV)

His integrity would not be enough to fulfill his intention. His strength insufficient for his settled purpose. But he needed to be ransomed and rescued from the weakness of his flesh in order to know the desire of his spirit. He needed the Divine to stoop in kindness and provide the power needed to take his holy determination and produce a holy walk.

Kind of risky asking Jehovah to judge you. But with vindication comes sanctification.

And you gotta think that’s worth it.

All by His grace. All for His glory.

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Not About Who Am I, All About Who I AM Is

Yesterday our speaker at church talked about the need to ask the Lord to “throw out” people into the harvest. He pointed out that what’s translated as “send out” in Matthew 9:38 has the idea of driving out or casting out. There’s a notion of force or compulsion behind the term. Our speaker shared how his own calling into ministry required some “subtle prompting” by the Lord . . . as in stomped on by a horse and, when that didn’t quite get the pump primed, a slip on the ice and a snap of the leg. As I read about Moses’ calling into ministry, it seems our speaker is in good company.

If you’re like me, hear the name Moses and you immediately think mighty deliverer. From standing on holy ground to standing before a hard-hearted Pharaoh. From standing before a nation as they walk away from slavery to standing before a great sea about to be parted. From standing on a mountain receiving God’s word, to standing before the promised land ready to say good-bye as his people were about to enter. You think great man. You think godly man. And you remember that “there has not arisen a prophet since in Israel like Moses, whom the LORD knew face to face” (Deut. 34:10).

But as I’m reading in Exodus this morning, I’m reminded how Moses, like our speaker, was at first a bit reluctant.

But Moses said to the LORD, “Oh, my Lord, I am not eloquent, either in the past or since you have spoken to your servant, but I am slow of speech and of tongue.” Then the LORD said to him, “Who has made mans mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the LORD? Now therefore go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak.” But he said, “Oh, my Lord, please send someone else.”

(Exodus 4:10-13 ESV)

The calling was clear (Ex. 3:1-11). A burning bush has a way of getting someone’s attention. As Moses felt the warmth on his face and the ground heating up under his feet, he was all ears when God said, “Come, I will send you to Pharaoh that you may bring my people, the children of Israel, out of Egypt.” But God, responds Moses, can’t someone else pick up the plan You’ve set out for me?

And this is where I so connect with Moses this morning. His first response is “Who am I?” God, he says, I don’t think I have what it takes to go before Pharaoh. I’ve got some baggage with the leadership in Egypt. I might even still be on their “Most Wanted” list. Beyond that, I’m not sure I have what it takes when it comes to addressing those in powerful positions.

I can kind of get where Moses is coming from. Who am I?

But Moses asks the wrong question when he asks, “Who am I?”. It’s not about who am I, but all about who I AM is.

Israel’s deliverance wasn’t going to happen because Moses was eloquent of speech . . . or impressive in stature . . . or charismatic in nature. His call to the harvest wasn’t about who he was. It was all about who His God is and what His God had determined to do.

“I am the LORD, and I will bring you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians, and I will deliver you from slavery to them, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with great acts of judgment. I will take you to be my people, and I will be your God, and you shall know that I am the LORD your God, who has brought you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians. I will bring you into the land that I swore to give to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob. I will give it to you for a possession. I am the LORD.”

(Exodus 6:6-9 ESV)

God’s call is never separated from God’s presence. His plan for us always comes with His power. Whether it’s delivering a nation or just get up in the morning and doing life as He has permitted life to be, it’s never about who am I but always about who I AM is.

Good reminder yesterday morning. Great reminder this morning.

And so we keep on keepin’ on.

By His grace . . . for His glory.

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A Clean Heart

Every so often I encounter those who seem to be on a bit of a crusade against using “Christian-ese.” You know, those terms we use in the church that we all know but are foreign to outsiders. Those common phrases, sometimes derided as “pat answers”, which cause some to cringe because they’ve heard them used over and over. And to be honest, I probably have my own small inward crusade against those who crusade against Christian-ese. Why? Because so often what’s demeaned as Christian-ese is really Bible-ese. Biblical language. God inspired terminology. So often that vocabulary which we think is becoming old is because it is. Ancient in fact. From before the foundation of the world.

And what’s sparked my little rant this morning is something I read in Acts. A reminder that one of those “over-worked” church terms which we might regard us mundanely common, has been provided by the Spirit of God to describe the wonder of the dynamic of salvation. A clean heart.

And after there had been much debate, Peter stood up and said to them, “Brothers, you know that in the early days God made a choice among you, that by my mouth the Gentiles should hear the word of the gospel and believe. And God, who knows the heart, bore witness to them, by giving them the Holy Spirit just as He did to us, and He made no distinction between us and them, having cleansed their hearts by faith.”

(Acts 15:7-9 ESV)

Context: A council convened in Jerusalem to consider a question. The Question: Is it necessary that Gentile believers be circumcised according to the custom of Moses in order to be saved. Short Answer: No way!

And in considering the question, in presenting the varying arguments, in debating the pro’s and con’s of such an understanding, Peter gives a brief word of testimony. And He describes Gentiles hearing the gospel and believing. And He describes the Spirit descending as authentication that this was the real thing. And He uses some Christian-ese to describe the salvation dynamic. Rather, the Spirit gifts us with some heaven-sent language to describe the salvation experience. God cleansed their hearts.

Those who believe are given a clean heart. Purified by the blood of Christ from dead works (Heb. 9:14). Cleansed by the washing of water with the word (Eph. 5:26). Hearts sprinkled clean with pure water so that we might “draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith” (Heb. 10:22).

A clean heart. That’s not just some overused Christian expression. In fact, it just might be an under-appreciated Christian reality. Rather than trying to re-work it into something more relatable, maybe we just need to stand in awe as we consider afresh that it so incredible.

God knows the heart–that heart which is “deceitful above all things, and desperately sick” (Jer. 17:9). And when He sees faith dawn over that darkness, He cleanses the heart. Because of the finished work of the cross, where our sin was laid upon His Son, God justly removes the guilt and shame of our transgression. And because of the spotless, sinless, nature of His Son, God’s grace is poured out as Christ’s perfection is imputed to us, as His spotless nature is credited to our account.

In Christ, I have a clean heart. And by the on-going sanctifying work of the Spirit within me, that heart is becoming more in reality what is has been declared positionally.

That’s not just some Christian speak. That’s divine reality. And worthy of awe, wonder, and worship.

All by God’s amazing grace. All for God’s everlasting glory.

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A Shudder in Heaven

As I read it this morning, I imagined a shudder in heaven as the Father breathed it, the Holy Spirit moved David to write it, and the Son anticipated it.

My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?
Why are You so far from saving Me, from the words of My groaning?

(Psalm 22:1 ESV)

I know that, unlike heaven, I’m the creature bound by time and chronology. That God’s plan to redeem and reconcile man “with the precious blood of Jesus” was “foreknown before the foundation of the world” (1Pet. 1:18-20). But Jesus came as the Redeemer “in the fullness of time” (Gal. 4:4-5) and before then, way before then, the script for our redemption was penned by a king/songwriter. And in his lyric was foretold in graphic detail how the Redeemer would redeem. And as those words appeared on the parchment for the first time I wonder if there wasn’t a shudder in heaven.

Surrounded by bulls of Bashan with teethed barred toward Him as ravening and roaring lions. Encompassed by dogs, encircled by a company of evildoers, who seemingly delight as they pierce His hands and feet. So mistreated that He would feel “poured out like water” . . . His bones all out of joint . . . His heart like wax . . . His strength all but dried up and gone. And His enemies would stare and gloat over this emaciated savior . . . adding further insult to injury as they gamble over who would get His clothes (Ps. 22:12-18).

But, as bad as the anticipation of all that might of been, it paled compared to the Father’s response to His Son’s cross.

My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?

Forsaken of the Father. Bearing the wrath for transgression that was rightfully ours to bear.  Becoming the curse deserved for our sin and thus expelled from God’s holy presence. Desperately desiring the face of Him whose love He had always known but now only getting His back. Darkness for the One who was the Light. I can’t imagine what is was for the Son to be forsaken by the Father.

I think it was this foreknowledge that especially tormented the Savior that night in the garden when “in an agony He prayed more earnestly; and His sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.” When He petitioned before heaven’s throne, “Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me.” When He submitted willing, “Nevertheless, not My will, but Yours, be done” (Luke 22:42-44).

So, in light of the Savior’s response to such foreknowledge that night at Gethsemane, is it way off base to think that, when ages earlier the prophetic word was given, and it was penned, that there might have been a shudder in heaven?

And as I chew on this I can’t help but marvel anew at the love of God. To wonder afresh at the depths of God’s determination to rescue men and women from the hopelessness of darkness, the bondage of sin, and the fear of death. To be in awe once more at the abundance of grace poured out by God to provide a just and eternal reconciliation for creatures who had turned their back upon their Creator.

And so, as I consider once again the nature of the price paid for my salvation by the Lamb of God, I imagine a shudder in heaven as the lyrics of Psalm 22 are written . . . and there’s a shudder here on earth as I know they were written for me.

What wondrous love . . . what amazing grace. To Him be eternal glory.

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