Lavished Upon Us

“It’s like I’m drinking from a fire hose!” Ever heard someone say that? I did just this last week as I talked to a friend about how it was going as she was training for a new job. Ever said that yourself? I have. Numerous times. But pause and think about it and what a great word-picture it paints. Imagine someone drinking out of a fire hose? Nozzle to mouth. Hydrant turned on full. No way you can take it all in . . . but it just keeps coming. That’s the image that came to mind this morning as I started in on Ephesians in my reading plan and came across these words from Paul . . .

In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace, which He lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of His will, according to His purpose, which He set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in Him, things in heaven and things on earth. (Ephesians 1:7-10 ESV)

I only read the first fourteen verses of Ephesians this morning. Looks like I colored every word. Thoughts concerning Christ . . . truths about God the Father . . . gems about the nature of our salvation . . . calls for praise . . . demonstrations of blessing. Tons of stuff to noodle on in just these few verses. It’s like drinking from a fire hose! But what grabbed this morning . . . the hose that got hooked up and turned on . . . is the fire hose connected to the riches of God’s grace.

Paul says that in Christ we have redemption through His blood. That, because of the finished work of the cross, we can know the forgiveness of our trespasses — past, present, and future. And all this is “according to the riches of His grace, which we lavished on us.”

Savor that word for a moment . . . lavished! The word doesn’t find it’s way into my vocabulary very often. Evidently I’m either not talking about grace as much as I should be or talking about it the way I should be. If I did, “lavished” would be a pretty common part of my speech.

Merriam-Webster defines it like this: “expending or bestowing profusely; expended or produced in abundance; marked by profusion or excess.” Come to think of it I don’t use the word profusely much either. My handy-dandy online Greek lexicon says the original word as the idea of “to abound” or “overflow.” Strong’s puts it this way, “superabound.” When’s the last time I talked about God’s favor and used the word “superabound?”

Such is the degree to which God has, and continues to, pour out His grace. From the abundance and wealth of grace that is found in the very nature of God — a storehouse without measure — grace flows profusely. The floodgates are opened to all who believe and unmerited favor superabounds and the tide overwhelms us. But far from drowning in an ocean of grace, it’s when we fully allow it to submerge us . . . when, rather than seeking by our own effort to keep our head above the great tide, we dive down deep and open our mouths wide, . . . that we come fully alive. Drinking from living waters sourced from the Rock and realized through the Spirit.

A lack of living in God’s grace is not because the fire hose has run empty, but because we have become distracted from hooking ourselves up to it and drinking from it.

Oh that we might believe that God’s grace has been lavished upon us. That we might avail ourselves, day in and day out, of the superabounding flow of steadfast love . . . believing that the blood of Christ cleanses us from all sins . . . that the Spirit of Christ can lead us through every difficulty . . . that the love of Christ is sufficient in our failures.

Praise God for grace . . . for superabounding . . . abundantly expended . . . lavishly overflowing grace. All because . . . and only because . . . we are in Him!

To God be the glory!

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The Corpse

Okay. When it comes to “translator privilege” I’m usually pretty compliant. I marvel when I consider those men and women who commit together to translate the Scriptures. I don’t pretend to understand all the nuances they have to deal with in translating the original languages from the right texts into understandable English which is true to the intent of God. And I’m no Greek or Hebrew scholar (or any other kind of scholar for that fact), so I don’t have much basis for being hyper critical of why some translations chose the words or phrases or sentences they chose. But I know what I like . . . and what, from my limited understanding and use of Bible helps, seems to be the more accurate and consistent translations. For that reason, I read the ESV.

So . . . why go into all this? It’s because the translators of the ESV did something in translating a word in Mark 15 that really caught my attention this morning. Not just because of the word they used and the mystery as to why they used it (though I am intrigued as to why they did what they did) but because of how it was juxtaposed against my reading in 2Samuel.

Here’s what the ESV translators did. They translated the word for “body” as “corpse.”

And when evening had come, since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, Joseph of Arimathea, a respected member of the Council, who was also himself looking for the kingdom of God, took courage and went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Pilate was surprised to hear that He should have already died. And summoning the centurion, he asked him whether He was already dead. And when he learned from the centurion that He was dead, he granted the corpse to Joseph.    (Mark 15:42-45 ESV)

Joseph of Arimathea asked for “the body” (Gk. soma) of Jesus. Pilate granted him “the corpse” (Gk. soma). The same transaction is recorded in the other three gospels . . . and in each of those the ESV translators write that Pilate gave to Joseph “the body” of Jesus. But in Mark, he gave “the corpse.” As near as I can tell, after a quick examination, every other translation says that Pilate handed over “the body” of the crucified Christ. So, while well within the range of translation, I’m intrigued as to why the ESV translators chose to use “the corpse” in this one instance only.

But that’s what the dead body of Jesus was . . . a corpse. When I read it this morning it hit me like a ton of bricks. Of all the names given to the One whose Name is above every name . . . of all the ways that we describe Him . . . at that moment, after having endured the wrath for my sin and having paid the penalty for my transgression, Jesus was the corpse.

Jesus, second Person of the Triune God. The God I had just read about in David’s song of victory in 2Samuel 22. The God David calls “my Rock, my Fortress, and my Deliverer” (22:1) The One who caused the earth to reel and rock, and the foundations of the heavens to tremble and quake, because He was angry (22:8). He who rides on the cherub (22:11). The Most High who utters His thunderous voice from heaven (22:14). The One who goes into battle for His own and rescues them with might and with power. Behold our God!

And Pilate granted to Joseph the corpse. Behold our God.

To what depths did the Most High descend so that our Rock and our Fortress might be our Deliverer from the bondage of sin and death? What power, though clothed in apparent weakness, was exerted upon that cross that day so that the battle for eternal life might be fought and won? What victory, though shrouded in seeming defeat, was wrought that day because of “the corpse?”

Don’t know why the ESV translators did it, but it causes me to pause and wonder . . . not only at their translation decision . . . but to wonder and marvel and worship afresh because of God’s loving and grace-fueled determination to offer His Son as my atoning sacrifice.

For this I will praise you, O LORD, among the nations, and sing praises to Your name. Great salvation He brings . . .     (2Samuel 22:50-51a ESV)

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Of No Advantage To You

It’s kind of an “out there” type of statement. Seems a bit over the top. But then again, that’s kind of how Paul’s coming across in this letter. If the epistle to the Galatians were an email I think you’d be seeing a lot of it in ALL CAPS . . . and there’d be emoticons with scrunched up faces and wide eyes scattered liberally throughout it. Paul was “astonished” and “perplexed” because his dear children in faith acted as though they had been “bewitched.” Paul couldn’t believe that those who had put on Christ were now thinking that in order to be justified they needed to also put on their best behavior. And so Paul goes over the top. Keep it up, Paul says, and Christ is of no advantage.

For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery. Look: I, Paul, say to you that if you accept circumcision, Christ will be of no advantage to you. I testify again to every man who accepts circumcision that he is obligated to keep the whole law. You are severed from Christ, you who would be justified by the law; you have fallen away from grace.   (Galatians 5:1-4 ESV)

Severed from Christ . . . fallen away from grace . . . the work of the cross of no advantage to you.  Pretty extreme declarations.

They had been running well (3:7), but now they were being hindered. They had believed the gospel, that Christ had been crucified to atone for their sins. By “hearing with faith” they had received the Spirit. Like Isaac, they were children of promise, offspring of the free woman, citizens of the new Jerusalem above. They had been “born according to the Spirit.” But now they were being charmed into believing that what had begun as a sovereign determination of heaven, could now be completed with the best efforts of earth. That what had begun in the Spirit could now be perfected in the flesh. That what had been declared to be an emancipation from the law could now only be fully realized by becoming again slaves to the law.

And so says Paul, if you pursue righteousness based on your best efforts . . . if the race can only be won because of your abilities and determination . . . then Christ is of no advantage to you. If you consider the justification wrought on the cross insufficient . . . if you live as though God’s acceptance is only fully found when you live up to a standard of conduct dependent on your righteous acts . . . then, in a sense, you have severed yourself from the Christ who has said He will live in you and through you . . . and you have detached yourself from the grace that is sufficient not only to save but to sanctify you as well.

Of no advantage to you.

Christ plus us, declares Paul, is nothing. Christ plus nothing? That’s everything. He is the all in all for all of salvation.

What futile bondage it is to live out our Christian lives thinking that somehow it’s up to our best efforts at holiness to be really accepted by God. It says the cross is insufficient . . . it says that the Spirit indwelling us needs help . . . it says that Christ’s imputed righteousness is a garment that needs to enhanced by our works.

Crazy, says Paul.

Might we, as God’s people, stand firm in the freedom for which Christ has set us free. Might we pursue godliness not because it’s required and we need to buckle down. Instead, might we pursue godliness as a loving and worship-induced response, knowing He has already raised us up . . . “and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus” (Eph. 2:6).

All because of grace. All dependent upon grace. All for His glory.

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With a Clear Mind

I don’t think they offered it to Jesus out of any sense of compassion, but more out of duty to protocol. It was a pitiful act of mercy incorporated into what was overwhelmingly a vile and cruel form of execution marked by everything but mercy. But, before nailing Him to the cross, according to protocol, the soldiers offered Jesus wine mixed with myrrh (Mark 15:23). It was designed to dull the senses . . . to cloud the mind . . . to so intoxicate the condemned that they became less aware of the pain their body would endure for hours as they hung between heaven and earth. And Jesus refused it. He would not take it.

Jesus would refuse the Roman cup so that He might drink the Father’s cup fully conscious of all that was transpiring around Him and above Him. With a clear mind He could continue to intercede for those He came to save, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). With a clear mind He could welcome into eternal life those who believed even at the last moment — to the thief next to Him He would declare, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise” (Luke 23:43). Because He did not permit Himself to be in a drunken stupor He could focus on the woman who birthed Him into His earthly existence and care for her — “He said to his mother, ‘Woman, behold, your son!’ Then He said to the disciple, ‘Behold, your mother!'” (John 19:26-27). And, as a King not compromised by strong drink (Prov. 31:4-5), with clarity of mind and purpose He led the way to victory as the Lamb of God declaring with all authority, “It is finished!” (John 19:30).

They offered Him wine mixed with myrrh, but Jesus would not take it. He would, being fully conscious, undertake to do the Father’s will. But as I read in Mark this morning, He would also, with complete clarity, submit Himself fully to His creations’ contempt.

And those who passed by derided Him, wagging their heads and saying, “Aha! You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself, and come down from the cross!” So also the chief priests with the scribes mocked Him to one another, saying, “He saved others; he cannot save himself. Let the Christ, the King of Israel, come down now from the cross that we may see and believe.” Those who were crucified with Him also reviled Him.    (Mark 15:29-32 ESV)

Derided by those who passed by Him. Mocked by those hated Him. Even reviled by those crucified with Him. And Jesus heard it all . . . clearly. With mind unaffected by any anesthetizing substance, Jesus took it all in. He heard the spitting rhetoric of blasphemy directed toward the One who created all things. He took in the arrogant sarcasm of the religious leaders who played with Him as a cat with a mouse. He was fully aware of those on either side of Him who, in their drunken stupor, somehow blamed Him for their transgressions. Mark records it. Jesus received it. And I pause and reflect on it.

What humiliation was suffered by my Savior that day. What shame He bore. Forget that He had been so physically abused before being crucified. Forget that He had been stripped naked and His clothes gambled away. How low was the Son of Man brought by those He came to rescue and redeem? What humility was suffered in order to be my substitute?

May I never lose the wonder of the depths of suffering endured by the Son of Man on my account. Might I not take of the wine and myrrh offered by this world that in any way lessens my understanding and appreciation of what it means that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). I was that crowd that derided Him . . . I was the prideful man who followed the gods of my own making and so mocked Him . . . I was that one condemned to death beside Him who blamed Him.

And while I was all that, Jesus with a clear mind, and with a resolve that had been determined since the foundation of the world, “endured the cross, despising the shame” (Heb. 12:2) that I might be redeemed.

To Him be all glory . . . to Him be all praise.

O what a Savior!

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Christ Formed in You

Quick thought this morning as I rush out to take a friend to the airport . . .

It would seem that, for the apostle Paul, the end game went beyond receiving Christ . . . that it was about reflecting Christ. That, more than simply accepting the grace of God, Paul wanted his children in the faith to actually embody the grace of God. While Paul rejoiced that people would place their faith in Christ, even more he wanted Christ to be formed in them.

. . . my little children, for whom I am again in the anguish of childbirth until Christ is formed in you! I wish I could be present with you now and change my tone, for I am perplexed about you. (Galatians 4:19-20 ESV)

There was a shift occurring among many throughout the churches in Galatia. Having received some additional “good news” from false teachers, those who had “begun in the Spirit” now sought to be “perfected by the flesh” (Gal. 3:3). Having started their Christian lives by faith, they now sought to live those Christian lives by works. Having received the righteousness of Another, they now believed that they could put on a righteousness of their own making. And so, an exasperated Paul scratches his head and says, “I am perplexed about you.”

It had been revealed to Paul that what had begun by the active agency of the Spirit was to be fully realized by the active agency of the Spirit. What was birthed by faith would have to mature by faith. The righteousness FROM Christ that had been placed UPON THEM by grace alone, was to morph into the righteousness OF Christ that would be formed WITHIN THEM by grace alone. That’s what Paul understood to be the nature of salvation. That’s what Paul desired for those who had come to know Christ as Savior. That’s why Paul would ache with the pains of childbirth over those who sought to do life in Christ through their own efforts.

And so those who had once received the gospel now needed to believe the gospel again.

And I’m thinking that’s how “Christ is formed in you.”

When the gospel goes on the shelf . . . when it’s put in a photo-album as a remembrance of something once believed for justification, then it loses its power as the means for sanctification. And, if I’m picking up what Paul is laying down, only the good news of a finished work and unmerited favor can take sinners-saved-by-grace and transform them into new creations who bear the very image and nature of God’s Son.

Christ formed in you. By grace alone. For His glory alone.

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A Way Back

There is no putting the “fun” back in dysfunctional. When the flesh is allowed to reign, the consequences can be huge and can last for years. If any family conveys that reality, it’s the family of David. I’m reading in 2Samuel this morning and at the center of the storm brewing in the midst of David’s court is the man Absalom. Absalom, third son of David, . . . . Absalom, killer of first-born son, Ammon . . . Absalom, soon to be the leader of a revolt against his father. Everything surrounding Absalom is dark.

He rises to prominence in Scripture as the protector of his sister who had been shamefully violated by her step-brother Ammon (2Samuel 13). And while he nurtured Tamar in his home, he hated Ammon in his heart. And though King David was angry at what Ammon had done, David did nothing. And so, after two years of the bitterness building, Absalom takes matters into his own hands and conspires to murder Ammon. Mission complete, Absalom flees the courts of David with his men.

And so father and son are estranged. Though David could never be reunited with Ammon, he longed to be in relationship with his son Absalom. But he didn’t know how to do it. Just as he had been ineffectual in dealing with Ammon’s transgression, David didn’t know how to deal with what Absalom had done. And so the king sits on his throne in Jerusalem and, for the three years, the son is thrust away and lives in exile in Geshur.

A dark time in the family. Sin committed. Sin undealt with. Sin leading to more sin. Sin resulting in a son being estranged from his father.

Perhaps David was so paralyzed in dealing with his son’s sin because of his memories of his own past transgression. Don’t know, really. But in the midst of this train wreck, Joab, commander of David’s army, takes the initiative to try and restore the relationship between David and Absalom (2Samuel 14:1-12). And though it will eventually result in things going from bad to worse, in the midst of this darkness a pin prick of light is revealed . . . a tiny beam of glory shines out of the darkness . . . revealing the heart of the heavenly Father and foreshadowing the true path to reconciliation.

And the woman [sent by Joab] said [to King David], “Why then have you planned such a thing against the people of God? For in giving this decision the king convicts himself, inasmuch as the king does not bring his banished one home again. We must all die; we are like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again. But God will not take away life, and He devises means so that the banished one will not remain an outcast.”  (2Samuel 14:13-14  ESV)

God will not take away life . . . He devises means so that the banished one will not remain an outcast.

It just bursts forth from the night of this family feud. Our God’s desire is that none should perish (2Peter 3:9). Those who are in exile due to their sin . . . those who are removed from the throne of blessing because of their transgression . . . those who are banished in self-exile due to pride and rebellion . . . for those, my God makes a way to bring back those who have been separated from Him. Not a means that ignores sins, but that deals with it once for all.

Just a glimmer of light . . . revealing the heart of the Father . . . and foreshadowing the cross. It is the means by which the banished one need not remain an outcast.

And at what cost did the Father devise such a means? The body of His Son shamed . . . the blood of His Son shed . . . the just payment for our sin laid upon Him. All that the banished one might be provided a way back. That the prodigal might be welcomed home. That the rebel might be reconciled.

How I need such a way back. Not just for my sin past when I was by nature a son of wrath in unbelief (Eph. 2:3). But for my sin present. For those times when I concede to the flesh. For those times when I’m tripped up by an enemy who is crafty and relentless. For those times when I simply fall short of walking in a manner worthy of my calling.

How, in those times, I need to remember that there is a way back. A means devised for those who feel the separation of sin from the Father because of their shame, or their sense of failure, or the voice of the accuser. How then I need to be reminded that He is not a taker away of life, but is the Giver of life . . . of abundant life . . . of life to the full . . . of life everlasting. And to know afresh there is always a way back because of the gospel.

A way back. Through the over-flowing grace of God. All for the ever giving of glory to God.

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Conduct Unbecoming

It was a face to face stand off. In this corner, the apostle Paul formerly known as Saul . . . the least of the apostles (1Cor. 15:9) and the chief of sinners (1Tim. 1:15). In the other corner, Peter formerly Simon . . . chief among the apostles, but least likely to be voted “Most Predictable.” At stake were the implications of the gospel — good news only for “fire insurance” or life-changing truth intended to impact behavior? And so Paul confronts Peter. Opposes him to his face. And calls him out on conduct unbecoming.

But when Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, . . . when I saw that their conduct was not in step with the truth of the gospel, I said to Cephas before them all, “If you, though a Jew, live like a Gentile and not like a Jew, how can you force the Gentiles to live like Jews?”   (Galatians 2:11, 14 ESV)

When he first arrived in Antioch, Peter (aka Cephas) apparently enjoyed the fellowship of the saints . . . ALL THE SAINTS . . . Jew and Gentile alike. Peter had come a long way. He had grown up knowing “how unlawful it is for a Jew to associate with or to visit anyone of another nation” (Acts 10:28). But God had shown him that he “should not call any person common or unclean.” Apparently a rooftop vision of unclean food being presented for consumption and an encounter with a gentile family receiving the Holy Spirit has a way of causing someone to conclude “that God shows no partiality” (Acts 10:34). And so, when he came to Antioch, he ate not with Jews or Gentiles but with brothers and sisters in Christ.

That is, until “certain men came from James” (Gal. 2:12). Men of the “circumcision party.” Men preaching a “Jesus Plus” distortion of the good news. And Peter caves to the fear of man. Worried about public, and maybe popular opinion, he goes chameleon. As a “good Jew” would, he withdraws from fellowshiping with Gentiles. He sends a message that they still weren’t “clean enough” for him, as a Jew, to associate with. That though they had been washed by the blood of Christ . . . though their garments had been made white as snow . . . until they conformed to the rule of law given by Moses, their rescue and redemption was yet to be fully complete.

And so, caving to peer pressure, Peter’s behavior sends an unhealthy message concerning the gospel. A message picked up by the rest of the Jews in fellowship at Antioch . . . even derailing Barnabas, Paul’s close associate, so that they all were “led astray” by such hypocrisy.

And so Paul calls Peter on the carpet. As one steward of the gospel to another he says, “Give your head a shake!” Such is conduct unbecoming.

. . . we know that a person is not justified by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ, so we also have believed in Christ Jesus, in order to be justified by faith in Christ and not by works of the law, because by works of the law no one will be justified.   (Galatians 2:16 ESV)

And I’m reminded that the gospel is not just some doctrinal truth that we once believed in order to “receive Christ” and “be saved.” It is an abiding truth by which we are to order our lives. Our behavior reflects the gospel we believe . . . it declares the justification we trust in.

Do we draw attention only to our successes . . . or to our failures, as well, knowing that His grace is sufficient . . . and that His power is made perfect in our weakness (2Cor. 12:9)? Are we critical of, and do we distance ourselves from, those struggling to walk in a manner worthy of their calling . . . or do we draw alongside, helping bear their load, knowing that we have fellowship with one another, not because of our performance, but because “the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin” (1John 1:9)?

Peter’s was a conduct unbecoming the gospel because he communicated that justification was dependent on something more than faith alone in Christ. And such a reflection of the “good news” is no good news at all.

Might we beware of conduct unbecoming.

Instead, might we live lives in the humility which reflects our perpetual dependency on His finished work. Might we live lives in victory, knowing that we have an Advocate with the Father who intercedes for us, even now, in our weakness and failure. Might we live lives overflowing with charity as we deal with the failures of other sinners-saved-by-grace in light of the sufficiency of the cross and the abundance of His grace.

Conduct becoming . . . by the grace of God . . . for the glory of God.

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Intolerant

There’s no messing around as Paul begins his letter to the churches of Galatia. No pleasantries. No “how you doin’?” No “here’s how I’m doin’.” But he gets straight to the point. I’m blown away. You are deserters. Doomed to destruction be anyone, man or angel, who messes with the gospel. Pretty strong language. Talk about going on the offensive. But that’s what it demanded. When it came to the gospel of Jesus Christ, Paul was pretty intolerant.

I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting Him who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel–not that there is another one, but there are some who trouble you and want to distort the gospel of Christ. But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed. As we have said before, so now I say again: If anyone is preaching to you a gospel contrary to the one you received, let him be accursed. (Galatians 1:6-9 ESV)

Not much tolerance these days for intolerance. And while that might be okay for a lot of things, not so good when it comes to the gospel. Paul wasn’t ready to show a lot of grace to those who came in distorting the good news of grace. He wasn’t ready to cut a lot of slack to those who proclaimed a “Jesus plus” salvation. Jesus plus circumcision . . . Jesus plus the law . . . Jesus plus any human efforts of righteousness. Let those who would preach such “good news,” says Paul, let them be anathema . . . let them be accursed.

And for those who would follow such “good news,” to them Paul says, You’re traitors. You’ve turned away. You’ve transferred your allegiance from God and His unmerited, abundant grace to yourselves and your pitiful, flesh-bound acts of self-righteousness.

No middle ground, says Paul. No breadth of acceptability. It is “Jesus plus nothing” or it is nothing at all. It is the good news of Christ and the cross or it is, in fact, bad news.

Their’s was a gospel devised by man . . . Paul’s was a revelation from Christ Himself (v.11-12). At the heart of their distorted gospel was the approval of men (v.10). At the heart of Paul’s, the glory of God (v. 5). They would proclaim what men and women must do in order to merit the favor of God. Paul would proclaim what Christ had already done so that the favor of God might be freely shown to men and women who, of themselves, lacked any merit.

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave Himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father, to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen.
(Galatians 1:3-5 ESV)

Christ gave Himself for our sins . . . period. The finished work of the cross, and nothing more, is able to deliver us from the present evil age. It is according to the will of God and God alone . . . man brings nothing to the table but faith — and that faith is not our own doing; “it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (Eph. 2:8-9).

This is the good news. This is the gospel, the power of salvation for all who believe (Rom. 1:16). The salvation which has dealt with the penalty of sin — past, present, and future . . . the salvation which, even now, leads us in victory over the power of sin . . . and the salvation, yet to be revealed, which will deliver us from the very presence of sin. It’s this gospel and no other. His work and none other. His glory . . . and His alone.

How we need to be intolerant when it comes to the gospel.

Amen?

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Like Father, Like Daughter

She couldn’t have imagined anything more distasteful. It disgusted her to see such behavior. She regarded her husband’s actions with contempt. The disdain for what he had done was evident on her face and dripped from her lips. And, as I hover over Michal’s reaction and response to David’s celebration before the ark of the LORD, I can’t help but think, like father, like daughter.

Bring the ark into Jerusalem . . . take two. That’s what David had determined. The first attempt had ended badly. What began with great celebration had ended in death (2Samuel 6:5-7). Mission aborted. And for three months the favor known because the presence of the glory of God was for the house of Obed-edom alone. And David knew that blessing was intended for all the people of God and so he went again to move the ark to Zion.

So David went and brought up the ark of God from the house of Obed-edom to the city of David with rejoicing. And when those who bore the ark of the LORD had gone six steps, he sacrificed an ox and a fattened animal. And David danced before the LORD with all his might. And David was wearing a linen ephod. So David and all the house of Israel brought up the ark of the LORD with shouting and with the sound of the horn.   (2Samuel 6:12b-15 ESV)

Great celebration . . . great sacrifice . . . all before a great God. And what does the Spirit want to ensure we know about David, beyond the fact he could bust a few moves? That “David was wearing a linen ephod.” And I take note of it as I read. And so did Michal, daughter of Saul, as she watched. I wonder at why David wore it. She writhed in disdain.

And I’m thinking what was the alternative for David to wear? What else was in his closet that he could have put on that day? How about the royal robes? How about the ornate symbols of his power of Israel which was due him? How about garments that drew the right amount of attention to their king? All his to rightfully wear. His to display as the big kahuna. Garments that would draw attention to him . . . and his position . . . and his power.

But rather than wear them, he divested himself of the royal robes that were rightfully his to wear. Just like Jonathan had when he relinquished his garments of power to David (1Samuel 18:1-5). And it had choked Saul to see Jonathan bow in such humility before David. Just as it choked Saul’s daughter, Michal, to see David “uncovering himself” before the eyes his lowliest servants (6:20). “Vulgar,” she says, for a king to so humble himself. “Shameless,” she spits out, for power to acquiesce before such lowliness. Like father, like daughter.

David’s response? “It was before the LORD.” David put on a linen ephod — the simple, unpretentious garments of the Levites who gave themselves to the service of the tabernacle — because, while he might have been a king of men, he knew he was nothing more than a servant of the Most High God. Only one spotlight to be shone on that day they moved the ark, and it would be upon God alone. Only One worthy of honor and glory, and it wasn’t the guy dressed in the linen ephod. In fact, says David, “I will yet make myself more contemptible than this.” You ain’t seen nothing yet. He must increase . . . and so I will decrease. He deserves all the glory and honor and I’ll just dance in worship induced celebration with the crowd.

And Michal the daughter of Saul looked upon the ephod dressed king and she “despised him in her heart.” Just as Saul’s anger had burned against Jonathan. Like father, like daughter.

But I look over the shoulder of the stripped down king of Israel and behold the One David sought to exalt . . . the King of kings . . . the LORD of heaven. And, if not with my feet, I dance before Him with my heart. He alone is worthy of unreserved praise.

Michal was like Saul . . . might I be more and more like David. By the grace of God . . . for the glory of God.

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Vain is the Salvation of Man

That David had great responsibility for ensuring an able-bodied army was ready to take on the enemies of God’s people is a given. That, as commander in chief, he needed to have a plan for taking down the city at Edom was to be expected. That, when the time came, it would be he and his men who were sword to sword in battle was understood. But what David also knew, beyond any shadow of doubt, was that regardless of the preparation . . . no matter how good the planning . . . even if, on paper, they possessed the greater power . . . vain is the salvation of man!

Oh grant us help against the foe, for vain is the salvation of man! With God we shall do valiantly; it is He who will tread down our foes.    (Psalm 108:12-13 ESV)

Kind of captivated by the progression in this song of David. It would seem that not all has been going well on the military front . . . that recent defeat has been known(v.11). And yet David’s song begins with praise . . . “I will sing and make melody with all my being . . . I will give thanks to You, O Lord . . . I will sing praise to You among the nations” (v.1-3). Though things have not been going well of late, David still knows that God’s “steadfast love is great above the heavens” and that His “faithfulness reaches to clouds” (v. 4).

And then praise is followed by prayer. “Give salvation by Your right hand and answer me!” pens the songwriter. And David seeks such favor that God might be exalted and that His glory would be over all the earth (v.5-6). The battle ultimately was the Lord’s because at stake was the reputation of the Lord. And so after praises and prayer, David recalls the promise.

God had “promised in His holiness” to divide up the land and portion it out among His people (v.7). David had made great preparation for the battle because God had given great promises concerning His people. And though the battle had not being going well, David knew that God’s promises would stand . . . and so he prayed for God’s presence . . . and he praised God for His steadfast faithfulness.

And David did this because, despite his great army of men of valor, without the presence and power of God in the midst of battle, they battled in vain. They were prepared, they had a plan, they were purposeful as to entering the fray. But useless are people’s attempts at their own deliverance.

Note to self: that includes me. In my own strength, by my own determination, through my own wisdom, empty is the prospect of any real victory. At best, fleeting will be the moment of triumph. Any mountain top I scale will shortly be followed by a valley that consumes me. At worst, I walk away bruised, battered, and bewildered.

But with God we shall do valiantly (do I get an “Amen!” from the people on that?). Only with God in our midst will we do mightily. The army we prepare, the plans we put in place, the purpose with which he move forward only have strength as they are infused by the presence and power of the God who promises.

Oh I know that lesson . . . but how I need to learn that lesson.

Hear it again Pete:  Needful are the praises, the prayer, the promises, and the power as we head into battle.

Vain is the salvation of man. Great is the victory through God.

For Your steadfast love is great above the heavens;
Your faithfulness reaches to the clouds.
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens!
Let Your glory be over all the earth!     
(Psalm 108:4-5 ESV)

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