Desiring a Higher HQ

It’s one of those lies the enemy sows. Something that sounds like it makes sense but can be debilitating to the believer. It goes something like this, “I’m don’t really spend much time studying the Bible because I’m not really an academic.” Sometimes “not being an academic” is gauged by how well someone responded to their years in school. True, some were more naturally “into” school than others . . . but I’m not thinking that’s what makes the difference when it comes to knowing the Scriptures. Others might use the term, “not an academic,” to refer to how smart they think they are . . . believing that it’s their IQ, their Intelligence Quotient, that determines how driven they are to spend time in the Word. But as I continue reading in Ephesians this morning, I’m reminded it’s not about my IQ, but about my HQ.

I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers, that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of Him, having the eyes of your hearts enlightened . . .    (Ephesians 1:16-18a ESV)

Paul writes the Ephesians so that they may grasp the fullness of who they are, and what they possess, in Christ. Ephesians is the book that eradicates a believer’s inferiority complex as they realize they have been blessed with “every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places” (1:3). To that end, in my reading this morning, Paul prays that they would know three things: 1) the hope of their calling; 2) the riches of His inheritance, and; 3) the greatness of His power toward us who believe (1:18b-19). And how does Paul expect this will happen? Through parsing the Greek? By reading books? By listening to lectures? By straining their brains and leveraging to the max whatever IQ they have? Nope. Paul says it happens as “the eyes of your heart” are enlightened . . . that it occurs as a function of their HQ . . . their Heart Quotient.

To quote one of my favorite commentators, “This figurative expression teaches us that proper understanding of divine realities is not dependent on our having keen intellects but rather tender hearts” (William MacDonald).

It is the eyes of the heart that behold the wonders of God. And that, through the illuminating work of “the Spirit of wisdom and revelation.”

The deep things of God are not kept just for the seminarian. Knowing God through His Word is not restricted to those who are jazzed by intellectual pursuit. But for all those who have been born anew and given hearts of flesh to replace their sin calloused hearts of stone, the knowledge of the deep things of God are available to those whose new hearts are set upon Him. Those who hunger, will be satisfied. Those who ask, seek, and knock, will be given, and will find, and will have opened to them the doors of wisdom and the revelation of the fullness of the glories of God. Not because of their brain power . . . but because of their heart preparedness.

O’ that I might have a higher HQ . . . that the Spirit’s illuminating work of revelation might have free access to the eyes of my inner being. That this sinner-saved-by-grace might, by that same grace, set his affections on things above and not on things of this world, so that he might more fully grasp the blessings that are his in heavenly places.

Mine is to not worry about the SQ, the Spirit Quotient, for it has been poured forth in abundance, taking up residence within me. I need not be overly concerned as to my IQ, pretty much hard-wired with that by the Creator. But my HQ? That, I can do something about. Guard it from distraction. Submit it to the Savior. Set it on the heavenly. Tune it to the Spirit’s frequency.

By His grace . . . for His glory . . .

Posted in Ephesians | Leave a comment

I Am Theophilus

Certainty concerning the things you have been taught. That’s Luke’s reason for painstakingly researching and then recording a detailed account of Jesus life. Not that this “certainty” becomes such a proof that faith is no longer necessary . . . not at all. Less about proving the faith, it is about proving that Jesus was born the way it was claimed . . . that He lived the way it had been reported . . . that He taught what others claimed He taught . . . that He did what many eyewitnesses said He did. Luke had “followed all things closely for some time” and now he determined to write “an orderly account.”

But as I read these opening verses, I’m reminded that not everyone who has read Luke’s careful account has come away knowing Jesus “beyond a shadow of a doubt” (MSG). For many, even some who had been taught the truths verified by Luke’s gospel, that “certainty” just doesn’t happen. How come? I’m wondering if it doesn’t come down to something found within the name of the one for whom Luke wrote his account. Theophilus.

Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things that have been accomplished among us, just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word have delivered them to us, it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, that you may have certainty concerning the things you have been taught.
(Luke 1:1-4 ESV)

Theos, means “God.” Philos, translates “friend.” God-friend. Luke wrote to one known as “friend of God” that He might have certainty concerning the things he had been taught and had believed.

And I pause and noodle on that for a bit . . . friend of God. What a magnificent name . . . what a marvelous reality . . . to be a friend of God. And it’s with such, that the Word of God finds it’s most fertile soil and bears its greatest harvest . . . with those who are friends of God. It’s these friends who seek the kingdom . . . who hunger and thirst after the things of righteousness . . . who desire to shed that which hinders them from pursuing the prize . . . who boast in their weakness . . . and glory alone in His power. Yeah, for those who are friends of God, there is an eager anticipation as they open up the gospel of Luke, or any other God-breathed portion of Holy Writ. For therein lies the word of life.

And as I continue to reflect . . . and count myself also a God-friend . . . the awe sets in as I recall that it is nothing of my desire or doing. For once I was an enemy of God . . . caring nothing for the things of the kingdom . . . thinking nothing of using the name of Jesus in a manner so unfitting His holy name. But God, in His sovereign purposes, and through His overflowing grace, makes God-friends out of those who were once enemies. While we were still weak . . . Christ died for the ungodly. While we were still sinners, Jesus bore the wrath our sin deserved. While we were still enemies, God determined to reconcile us to Himself through the once-for-all atoning sacrifice of His Son. And, born again through faith in Christ’s finished work, we became new creations in Christ . . . and those who were once enemies, became God-friends.

The Holy Spirit of God was poured into our very soul and spirit . . . rewiring our spiritual DNA . . . taking that which was of no interest and elevating it to our greatest priority. Removing our blindness and opening up the eyes of faith . . . allowing us to see more clearly than we’d ever seen before. Because we were made God-friends.

That’s why I hunched over 1Kings 1 this morning trying to figure out the significance of Abishag. That’s why I saw in the priest, Zechariah, a type of the Holy Spirit who would “make ready for the Lord a people prepared” as I read in Luke. That’s why, as I took in again the Ephesians 1 spiritual inventory which is mine in Christ, I was again blown away. That’s why, as I read the first eight verses of Psalm 119, I did so with great anticipation of the next 22 readings in the Psalms as I revisit, with the Spirit’s help, this great love song for the Word of God. Because, by His great grace, I am Theophilus.

For His glory . . .

Posted in Luke | Leave a comment

Farming the Promised Land

The thought of “reaping eternal life” caused me to pause as I wrapped up Galatians this morning. What a thought! That what I think, that what I pursue, that what I do, can all be planting seed which produces harvests of eternal life. Some of that harvest, I think, can be reaped this side of heaven. The rest of it? I can only imagine! What I do know is that a little bit of seed sown in the Spirit will produce a bountiful return. Found these thoughts from a 2010 post on the law of the harvest. Thought I’d re-run them . . .

It’s like gravity . . . one of those laws of nature that governs how things work. I’m no scientist, but I know basically how gravity works . . . you let go of something, and it falls to the ground. Simple . . . always true . . . and once you get it, you can leverage that law and work with that law to your benefit. Such is the law of the harvest. Not too complicated really, what you sow, you reap. Plant wheat seed, and given the right conditions, eventually you’ll harvest wheat. Plant corn seed, plan on picking corn in the late summer. If you want to enjoy strawberries, you better not be planting radish seed in the spring. Simple. Sure. And, probably one of the most significant spiritual principles the believer can take hold of.

Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. 
(Galatians 6:7-9 ESV)

It’s kind of interesting that Paul would end his letter on grace . . . his defense of “Christ plus nothing” as the means of salvation . . . with an exhortation about doing stuff. But the works he encourages here are not works to earn or merit salvation . . . they are the works of the saved. It is the labor of the redeemed, those who, by faith alone in the Person and Work of Christ alone, have been forgiven of their sin and have been given the Spirit of adoption, being made children of God because of belief in Christ. And Paul says (kinda’), “Now that you’re saved . . . quit putting your efforts into trying to merit God’s acceptance and favor — that’s done. And stop investing in the old man and the old ways — you’ve been saved from that. Instead, start farming the promised land. As you live your life, you’re going to be dropping seed along the way . . . make sure it’s seed that results in a heavenly crop.”

What a perspective that puts on life’s efforts. We can sow according to the game plan of this world . . . plant according to our old man and our old ways . . . and be assured that what we will reap, will be stuff of this world and stuff of this flesh. Stuff that ultimately will perish . . . stuff that starts rotting almost as soon as it is harvested . . . stuff that won’t last. Or, we can take everything we do . . . from the mundane to the significant . . . from the pragmatic to the visionary . . . and consecrate it . . . and dedicate it to Him who loved us unto death . . . and do it all under the banner of “for God’s glory alone.” And, in doing that, it becomes spiritual seed which will result in an everlasting harvest. The promise is ours, “Sow to the Spirit, and of the Spirit reap everlasting life.” It’s the promise that we can start to experience “here and now” and will fully enter into “there and then.” We can, each day, determine, by His grace, to plant Spirit-filled, Spirit directed seed and will, in due season, reap the stuff of heaven . . . the riches of the kingdom of God. It’s a law of the natural and, it’s a law of the supernatural, as well.

But I also notice that, while the cause and effect are sure, the timing can be a bit of a wild card. Unlike physical seed, which is pretty predictable in terms of when it will harvested (given the right conditions), the harvest of Spirit-sown seed is somewhat less predictable. Hence Paul says, “Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” I guess that’s the faith part . . . we sow because He has promised that we will reap even though we don’t know exactly how long the “in due season” will be. We determine to sow in accord with the Spirit’s will and leading because we are convinced that the return will be out of this world, literally. We plant not because it’s necessarily appreciated, or even noticed, but because we believe Him to be faithful who has ordained the law of the harvest.

Oh, that I might be continually seeking to be led by the Spirit. That I might lay down Spirit-filled and Spirit-willed seed. That I might see some small indication of the harvest being formed within me even now . . . the fruit of the Spirit, ” . . . love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Gal. 5:22-23). That I might sow to the flesh less and less, instead planting seed that, by the promise of God, will have eternal benefit.

That I might be farming the promised land. By His grace . . . for His glory.

Posted in Galatians | Leave a comment

The Man on the Center Cross

Why was this one different than all the rest? He had been in this position before . . . standing before those condemned to die . . . witnessing many a man’s last breath as the weight of the cross won over their natural desire to take one more breath. So why was was this death so life-changing for him?

And Jesus uttered a loud cry and breathed His last . . . And when the centurion, who stood facing Him, saw that in this way He breathed His last, he said, “Truly this Man was the Son of God!”    (Mark 15:37, 39 ESV)

I’ve been taught that the Romans had crucifixion down to a science. That they had mastered the technique of taking someone’s life in such a way that, not only was it exacting judgment on the condemned party, but it also acted as a vivid warning to any who would get on the wrong side of Roman law. It was the consummate object lesson of Rome’s iron-fisted control over those who would transgress the ways of Caesar. All the power in the hands of the executioners . . . none in the feeble attempts of those condemned to hold on to life. But there was something different that day about the Man on the center cross.

First, even in His suffering there was a caring consciousness about the Man, even as He hung there amidst the callous unconcern of His executioners. The centurion standing there had overheard the conversation between the King and the thief. Even in His own anguish and what should have been hopelessness, He assured the one who truly was a criminal, that “Today, you will be with Me in paradise.” How could He have been so sure? How could He be so composed as to show such concern and compassion for a sinner condemned justly to death? But that’s exactly what the Man on the center cross did.

What’s more, though His suffering was no less than others who had died a similar death, as the centurion faced Jesus of Nazareth, he sensed that something more was going on. The suffering of this Man seemed to extend beyond the physical trauma He endured, but there was a dimension to His suffering that transcended hanging on that tree. Certainly, never had the sky gone black as it had for those three hours of darkness. And just before the light returned the One called by some the King of the Jews cried with a loud voice, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” The Roman guard didn’t know what had happened during those three hours of darkness, but whatever it was, it seemed to be focused on the Man on the center cross.

And then, there was the sense of control Jesus commanded amidst the chaos His body was experiencing. Never had this soldier before seen one who seemed to permit death its victory . . . as if, He knew it would be but a temporary victory. As the centurion stood facing Him, he heard Him cry, “It is finished!” What had finished? What had just been accomplished? He didn’t doubt that something had just been concluded, but what was it? And then, the manner in which Jesus passed from life to death . . . calling out with a loud voice, “Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit!” . . . then bowing His head . . . breathing His last as if it was He who determined it should be His last. Strictly speaking it was too early for Him to have expired . . . the process was designed to last longer . . . but it was if His spirit departed at just the time He determined it should depart. Such was the never-before-witnessed-by-the-centurion death of the Man on the center cross.

And what do you say when you’ve seen something you’ve never seen? How do you make sense of a death unlike any other death you’ve witnessed? When the centurion saw the manner in which Jesus breathed His last, he could only conclude one thing, “Truly this was the Son of God!”

The Man on the center cross . . . the Son of God . . . bearing my sin . . . taking upon Himself the wrath I deserved . . . defeating death . . . making the way of salvation.

To Him be glory now and forevermore! Amen!

Posted in Mark | Leave a comment

Let Me Run!

The battle was over . . . the true king’s forces had prevailed . . . he who would be king was dead. Absalom the vengeful . . . Absalom the ambitious . . . Absalom the cold-hearted . . . Absalom the arrogant . . . Absalom, who had sought to usurp the authority of the rightful king, had been done in by the very thing he was most proud of. It says that Absalom, while fleeing the prevailing army of David, caught his head in the branches of a great oak, “and he was suspended between heaven and earth.” Many think that what got entangled in the trees was his hair . . . the crowning component of his vain glory (2Sam. 14:25-26). And there, hung by his own vanity, Joab put the enemy of the throne to death. Game, set, match! Time to let others know!

Enter Ahimaaz . . .

Then Ahimaaz the son of Zadok said, “Let me run and carry news to the king that the LORD has delivered him from the hand of his enemies.”    (2Samuel 18:19 ESV)

That’s what Ahimaaz did . . . he carried news. And when it was good news, he ran . . . and ran like no other. The king’s enemies had been defeated . . . and that was good news . . . and so he wanted to run.

But Joab was reluctant to send him. Though they had won the battle, Absalom was dead . . . and the king had specifically commanded that they “deal gently for my sake with the young man Absalom” (18:5). Perhaps because of his own lingering guilt over his treachery with Uriah concerning Bathsheba, the king didn’t have it in him to hold this son of destruction accountable. And so, Joab feared that, though there was good news to be conveyed, the king would instead focus on the bad news of his son’s death . . . and who knew how he’d react. When David had received the news of Saul’s death, another of his enemies, he had the messenger slain (1:15-16).

But, although another, perhaps more expendable messenger, a Cushite, was sent to inform David of the victory, Ahimaaz would not be denied doing what we was called to do . . . bear good news.

Then Ahimaaz the son of Zadok said again to Joab, “Come what may, let me also run after the Cushite.” And Joab said, “Why will you run, my son, seeing that you will have no reward for the news?” “Come what may,” he said, “I will run.” So he said to him, “Run.” Then Ahimaaz ran by the way of the plain, and outran the Cushite.    (2Samuel 18:22-23 ESV)

And noodling on this, I’m kind of challenged by how much, or maybe not so much, I’m motivated to run. I know the battle’s been won and the enemy defeated. That God has “disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame,” by triumphing over them through the cross of His beloved Son, Jesus Christ (Col. 2:15). The Lamb of God enduring the cross, shedding His blood, taking upon Himself God’s righteous wrath. That we who were dead in our trespasses, God might make alive together with His risen Son, “having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This He set aside, nailing it to the cross” (Col. 2:13-14).

Isn’t that good news? So let me run! Let me take to the plain and out pace those with lesser messages. Let me not worry about how it might be received, but be compelled by the nature of the news itself . . . that “in Christ God was reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation” (2Cor. 5:19). Sin and death have been defeated! Let me run.

O’ to be more of an Ahimaaz . . . let me run with the good news . . . by God’s grace . . . for God’s glory . . .

Posted in 2Samuel | Leave a comment

Until Christ Is Formed In You

It killed Paul to see his children in the faith going south. He had presented Christ to them as the One given for their sin. He had known the joy of them presenting themselves to God . . .of them having believed the truth of the gospel and having received, by faith, the promises of God. They had drunk from the deep, deep well of grace but now were being turned aside to “another gospel” . . . a gospel burdened with the law . . . a gospel tied to man’s best efforts at obedience . . . a gospel distorted by those who would seek a following for themselves . . . a gospel which was really no gospel at all. And it tore Paul up. How come?

After all, weren’t they saved, sealed, and secure in the finished work of Christ? Yeah, I’m thinking. But there was more at stake.

The new birth they had experienced, beyond rescuing them from judgment, was to form within them a new person. And not just some new and improved form of themselves, but the fullness of the salvation found in Paul’s gospel intends for the saved to become more like the Savior . . . for the sheep to take on the character of the Shepherd . . . for the bride to look more and more like the Bridegroom. And so, Paul found himself “again in the anguish of childbirth, until Christ is formed in you” (Galatians 4:19).

That’s the gospel Paul preached. Good news concerning God’s plan for dealing with sin and separation . . . AND, good news concerning God’s desired outcome for those whose sin had been forgiven, and had been brought near by the finished work of the cross and the blood of Christ. That outcome being that “Christ might be formed in you.”

And, you know, if there’s anything that might naturally cause me to embrace a system of “to dos” and “to don’ts,” it would be the pressure of having to have Christ formed in me. The thought that somehow, Christ forming was related to Pete performing. If there’s anything that would cause me to think I’d have to step up the discipline and gut out the holiness, it would be the expectation that, in some small manner, I have to be reflecting the nature of the holy Son of God.

Instead, Paul argues, because of such a lofty expectation, those who entered the family of God through amazing grace need to lean into amazing grace until Christ is formed in you. The life which was entered into by faith in the promises of God and the power of the risen Christ, would be the life fully realized through the same promises and the same power.

Let me ask you only this: Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith? Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?    (Galatians 3:2-3 ESV)

It’s counter-intuitive in a way. That being more like Christ isn’t dependent on our best efforts, but is wholly linked to the good news that Jesus saves those who are incapable of saving themselves . . . that He forms Himself in those incapable of fashioning themselves after their Lord. That it’s as we cling to the gospel, the power of God for salvation–past, present, and future, that the grace found in the gospel morph’s us into the very image of Him who redeemed us. That the work He began, He completes (Php. 1:6).

And so, the grace that He has overflowed into our lives fuels a fire. A burning desire, born out of gratefulness for such grace, to seek the things of God even as we continue rest in the finished work of God.

Until Christ is formed in you . . . only by His grace . . . all for His glory.

Posted in Galatians | Leave a comment

A Way of Return

Ok . . . so I don’t know if it is appropriate to say this sort of thing or not . . . but it occurs to me that, just as I have my favorite portions of Scripture, I probably have a few that are my “least favorite” passages. This morning’s reading in 2Samuel is one of those. It’s a few chapters of God’s word that I would just as soon exclude from my reading plan. This morning I read 2Samuel chapters 13 through 15. Yuck! What a downer . . . what a mess.

A daughter of David violated . . . the life of a beautiful young girl ruined. And nothing is done about it for two years. And then her brother, Absalom, takes vengeance for his sister’s disgrace into his own hands. And now there’s murder. Absalom flees into exile . . . and David’s a mess. Three years later, David finally calls for Absalom and eventually has a reconciliation of sorts but then Absalom determines to overthrow his father and take the throne . . . treachery . . . treason. David now has to “get out of Dodge” and leaves his throne empty for Absalom to fill. And that’s not all of it . . . I know more distasteful and heart-wrenching stuff is yet to come. Talk about your dysfunctional family . . . dysfunctional with a capital D. And it is so not what I would want to see in the family life of a man who has a heart after God’s own heart.

It really is kind of depressing. So much sin packed into so few chapters. Ego . . . selfishness . . . weakness . . . lives ruined . . . lives lost . . . bad choices . . . poor discernment. You brood over this passage and the sky goes grey . . . not much sunshine here. Such a stark reminder that the wages of sin is death . . . physical death . . . emotional death . . . death of a family . . . heavy sigh!!!

But in the midst of this gloom . . . in the midst of this brokenness . . . there is a gem which shines bright.

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 14:14 ESV)

God devises means so that the banished one will not remain an outcast! Praise God!

Yes, the wages of sin is death for everyone who sins . . . and that’s everyone. We are all like water spilled on the ground. But God’s desire is not to take away life. He is not willing that any should perish (2Peter 3:9). Instead, God makes a way of return . . . so that those banished by sin might not remain an outcast.

This morning I also read of that way of return in Galatians 3. The way back is the way of Abraham who “believed God and it was counted to him as righteousness” so that “those who are of faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith” (Gal. 3:6, 9). The way back, the way of reconciliation, is the gracious way of God’s redemption. Christ having redeemed the outcast from the curse of the law by becoming, Himself, a curse of us (Gal. 3:13). He restores those damaged by their sin, having, once for all, taken the wages of their sin upon Himself.

Yes, sin is an ugly reality. The Law was designed to reveal it for what it is . . . the dysfunction . . . the destruction . . . the determined offense against a holy God. But the law was also designed to be “our guardian until Christ came” . . . leading us to the One who would make possible our justification by faith (Gal. 3:22-24). And despite the mess, despite the wretched condition, God’s desire is that none would be permanently estranged from Him. In fact, for all those who, by God’s grace, accept the way of the cross as the way back, He declares that they are, in Christ Jesus, children of God through faith . . . “baptized into Christ” . . . “one in Christ” . . . “heirs according to the promise” (Gal. 3:26-29).

Sometimes you have to read those least favorite passages, and be reminded of the depressing realities of a sin-damaged world, in order to glory afresh in the magnificence and wonder of the love and grace of God. Sometimes you have to be reminded how far the soul can stray, in order to rejoice in how far God has gone to make a way of back.

A way of return. Only by the grace of God . . . only for the glory of God.

Posted in 2Samuel, Galatians | Leave a comment

In the Congregation

As I head into a new week, I’m not ready to “let go” of the weekend. It began with hanging out with a band of brothers at a retreat and ended doing sermon reflection with my small group at our place. In between those, I gathered with my church family where I worshiped with the saints and was fed with the flock. And as I savor the “aroma” lingering from this weekend, I can’t help but be thankful that I’m “in the congregation.”

Praise the LORD!
I will give thanks to the LORD with my whole heart,
in the company of the upright, in the congregation.    (Psalm 111:1 ESV)

There is something about gathering with the people of God. There is something about coming together as a company of those who have shared in the revealed mysteries of the kingdom of God. There is something about coming together as a body of believers with a common desire to lift up the name of the LORD and to thank Him with all our beings. There is something about being in the congregation that is found nowhere else.

Reading Psalm 111 this morning, the songwriter describes a dynamic whereby, when “the upright” assemble together, the praise of God is ignited. Though diverse in their backgrounds, their “day jobs,” and in their personalities, the tie of this gathering is their common determination to focus on the greatness of the works of the LORD, “studied by all who delight in them” (v.2). Their common delight is in plumbing the depths of the fullness of “splendor and majesty” found in the works of God (v.3). And in so doing, their common desire is to know more fully the nature of the God behind the works.

As He moves His people to remember His wondrous deeds (v.4), they are reminded that God is gracious and merciful (v.4) . . . that He is faithful and just (v.7) . . . that He remembers His covenant forever (v.5, 9) . . . that He has sent redemption to His people (v.9). And at some point, the waters of reflection burst the dam of restraint and the company of the upright declares in one voice, “Holy and awesome is His name!” That’s life in the congregation.

Sure, I can meditate and reflect on my own . . . and I should. I can worship God on my own . . . and I should do that too. But there is something about God’s people coming together in God’s presence to offer God praise that is not matched by any other “spiritual discipline.”

It is when the redeemed are gathered . . . when the company of the upright meet . . . not “upright” because of who we are or what we’ve accomplished, but upright “in Jesus” because of who He is and what He has done through His death on the cross and by the power of His resurrected eternal life . . . it is when we come together as “the congregation” that we experience the sweet dynamic of reflection, renewal, and rejoicing.

His praise endures forever (v.10). May it be so in the congregation.

By His grace . . . for His glory.

Posted in Psalms | Leave a comment

Like One of the King’s Sons

He really had no business being there. First, it’s not like he was family or anything . . . no blood connection . . . no obligation to include him. What’s more, it’s not as if he were included because of his accomplishments or might. In fact, he was lame in both feet . . . a cripple, since he was a young child . . . with no ability to contribute to the strength of the royal court. And finally, it’s not as if he intrinsically provided some strategic advantage through his presence. Instead, he was the grandson of a defeated rival . . . heir to a competing royal line who once occupied the throne. If anything, this stranger, cripple in both feet, might be considered an enemy, a threat.

But there he was occupying a seat of privilege . . . eating at the king’s table . . . just like one of the king’s sons.

The story of Mephibosheth (2Samuel 9) never ceases to move me. David, having secured his hold on the throne . . . king over all Israel . . . conqueror over Israel’s enemies . . . determines that he wants to show kindness to any survivor of Saul’s house, “for Jonathan’s sake” (2Sam 9:1).

Jonathan, the son of King Saul, himself an heir to the throne, had been David’s friend. He had been David’s number one cheerleader right from the beginning. He recognized David as God’s anointed and, as such, submitted to David his claim to the throne (1Sam. 18:4). He even put his own life on the line for David, protecting David from the jealous rage of Saul. When David was in a most desperate situation, Jonathan had gone to him and encouraged him in the Lord (1Sam. 23:16). By David’s own declaration, the love shown him by Jonathan was “extraordinary” (2Sam 1:26). But their friendship was cut short when Jonathan was slain in battle.

And so, for the sake of Jonathan . . . for the sake of another . . . David desires to show kindness.

Enter Mephibosheth, Jonathan’s son . . . lame in both feet since age 5 . . . dropped by his nurse as they fled after the defeat of King Saul and the death of his dad (2Sam. 4:4). Could have been a somebody . . . ended up being a nobody. Grew up without a father . . . grew up without a future. He who might have been royalty, was destined to be, at best, a recluse. And then, a king determines to show kindness to him for the sake of another. Can anyone say, “Grace!”

Though a natural enemy to his throne, David instead spares his life . . . that would have been favor enough! But the favor didn’t stop with just granting him life. Next, David restores to Mephibosheth an inheritance, giving him all the land once owned by the family of Saul. Mephibosheth is set for life. But there’s still more. Beyond any expectation of a lame man with little to offer the throne . . . beyond any imagination of man from an enemy lineage to the throne . . . Mephibosheth hears David say, “And you shall eat at my table always” (v.7). No way!!!

Yes way . . . that’s kind of how grace works.

Enemies, deserving of death, given life. Impoverished beggars, incapable of helping themselves, bequeathed an inheritance beyond imagination. Those of inconsequential bloodlines, undeserving of even gazing upon royalty, invited to eat at the king’s table.

So Mephibosheth ate at David’s table, like one of the king’s sons. (2Samuel 9:11b ESV)

Received like one of the king’s sons. That’s how grace works . . . I should know. I too have been invited to dine at the King’s table. Not because of who I am . . . not because of what I bring to the table . . . despite that I was once an enemy. But because He, in His Sovereign purposes, has determined to show abundant kindness to this guy who’s “lame in both feet” . . . and has seated him at the table.

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with Him and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages He might show the immeasurable riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. (Ephesians 2:5-7 ESV)

Seated at the table . . . seated together with Christ in the heavenlies . . . like one of the King’s sons.

All because of grace . . . all for His glory!

Posted in 2Samuel | 1 Comment

To Be More Like David

It’s not what you’d expect. Given what seems to be David’s circumstance, you just wouldn’t expect this song of his to begin this way. But it does.

My heart is steadfast, O God!
     I will sing and make melody with all my being!
Awake, O harp and lyre!
     I will awake the dawn!
I will give thanks to You, O LORD, among the peoples;
     I will sing praises to You among the nations.
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 108:1-5 ESV)

Given what appears to have been going down around David, I’m thinking that he would have gone to bed at night anxious and with a heavy heart. And, as is often the case with me, I’d expect that he’d wake up the same way. Instead, he awakes the dawn with harp and lyre . . . giving thanks to the LORD among the peoples . . . singing praise to his great God among the nations . . . acknowledging afresh the out-of-this-world steadfast love of God . . . declaring anew the heights of God’s faithfulness.

Even though David’s in need of deliverance from his enemies (v.6) . . . even though God is not going out with David and his armies (v.11) . . . even though it feels like God has rejected their cause . . . even while he asks for help against his foes (v.12) . . . David still begins his lyrical meditation, and apparently his day, desiring, above all, that God would be exalted . . . that God’s glory might be known over all the earth.

And I sit back and pause. Unbelievable! When all else fails, worship. When things are the most desperate, sing praise. When you don’t know what else to do, desire the glory of God to be known. O to have a heart like this man who had a heart after God’s heart (Acts 13.22).

So where did the praise come from? In what was the worship sourced? It was in believing the promises of God. David’s offering of praise is founded on what “God has promised in His holiness” . . . that David would rule over his people and triumph over his enemies (v.7-10). And so David awakes to the day’s desperation with an abiding confidence.

With God we shall do valiantly; it is He who will tread down our foes.    (Psalm 108:13 ESV)

Faith, by the grace of God . . . plus the promises of a holy and faithful God . . . result in worship for the glory of God.

O’ . . . to be more like David.

Posted in Psalms | Leave a comment