Bridled

This morning, I’m chewing on a phrase in Jeremiah. A descriptor for sin.

A big part of what the prophets do is call out God’s people for their sin. Thus, it’s not surprising that they come up with (or, are given by the Spirit) a lot of different ways to put their finger on the essence of what they’re talking about.

For example, just in the first few chapters of Jeremiah, sin is described as forsaking God (1:16), and it is equated to going after “worthlessness” (2:5) and turning “degenerate” (2:21). It is having “turned their back” to God “and “not their face” (2:27). Bluntly and directly, sin is having “played the whore”, refusing shame, and doing all the evil they could (3:1, 3, 5). It’s playing the religious game, being half-hearted, and “returning” to God “in pretense” only (3:10). The list can — and does — go on and on. Not only in Jeremiah, but throughout the writings of those who God sent to call His people to repentance.

It’s one of those types of phrases that has me thinking.

Then I said, “These are only the poor; they have no sense; for they do not know the way of the LORD, the justice of their God. I will go to the great and will speak to them, for they know the way of the LORD, the justice of their God.” But they all alike had broken the yoke; they had burst the bonds.

(Jeremiah 5:4-5 ESV)

Broken the yoke . . . burst the bonds . . . How’s that for a way to talk about what transgression against God looks like?

Whether they were the poor, the uninstructed rank and file, just ordinary Joes and Josephines who were dull-witted and understood very little of the way of the LORD, or they were the great — the well-informed princes, the nobles, the judges, the elders, and the priests of the people — who knew the way of the LORD, the justice of their God, the indictment is the same. Their sin is that they all alike had broken the yoke, they had burst the bonds.

Hmm . . . so chew on that. If breaking the yoke is sin, then what is righteousness? It’s gotta be bearing the yoke, doesn’t it? How does that play with hearts culturally conditioned for freedom and independence? How about the opposite of bursting the bonds? Bridled? Harnessed? Checked or controlled? I’m thinkin . . . And that’s the opposite of sin too? Apparently.

Like I said, “Hmm . . .”

Dumb oxen are yoked. Things forced into submission are bound. And yet, one of the ways that God indicts His people, who were on the precipice of His judgment for transgressing His ways, is that they had broken the yoke and had burst the bonds. Thus, bearing the yoke and sporting the bonds is evidently a good thing in God’s economy.

But us New Testament readers know that to be true. Don’t we?

Jesus Himself invited us to take on a yoke (Matt. 11:29-30). The issue isn’t with the yoke, it’s with what the yoke is attached to (Gal. 5:1). And when it comes being in bonds? Same thing. It depends on what type of bond we’re talking about. A bond of iniquity (Acts 8:23) or a bond of peace (Eph. 4:3)? It depends on whose slave we consent to be. Slaves of sin, or slaves of righteousness? Slaves of sin, or slaves of God? (Rom. 6:16-22). It’s not the yoke or the bonds that matter, it’s what we’re yoked or bound to that counts. Or, in the case of these ancient Israelites, what yoke they refused and what bondage they rejected.

When they broke the yoke and burst the bonds they sinned unbridled sin. When they refused to be tethered to God’s word and God’s ways, when they ripped to shreds His call to be their Master, then — quite literally — all hell eventually broke loose among God’s holy people.

One more time . . . Hmm . . .

Bring on the yoke that graciously and gently ties me to Jesus. Wrap my heart in the Word that binds me in the Way — the way of submission, the way of serving, the way of flourishing.

Oh, that I would remain bridled.

By His grace. For His glory.

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Asking the Right Questions

Hits me as kind of funny (funny weird, not funny ha-ha) for me to be critiquing a man to whom God gave “wisdom and understanding beyond measure, and breadth of mind like the sand on the seashore”, whose “wisdom surpassed the wisdom of all the people of the east and all the wisdom of Egypt — for he was wiser than all other men” (1Kings 4:29-31). And yet, as I hover over more meanderings in Solomon’s memoir, it occurs to me you can have the all the right answers and still be asking the wrong questions.

Then I saw that there is more gain in wisdom than in folly, as there is more gain in light than in darkness. The wise person has his eyes in his head, but the fool walks in darkness.

(Ecclesiastes 2:13-14a ESV)

There is more gain in wisdom than in folly . . . Affirmative! You betcha! Yessir! Amen! Preach it!

I just finished a whole book making that point.

Blessed is the one who finds wisdom,
and the one who gets understanding,
for the gain from her is better than gain from silver
and her profit better than gold.

(Proverbs 3:13-14 ESV)

So, as I read the Preacher’s conclusion in Ecclesiastes 2:13 this morning I shaded it with my blue colored-pencil, my highlighting for Jesus. How come? ‘Cause Proverbs also says that “The LORD by wisdom founded the earth” (Prov. 3:19), and yesterday John me reminded that all things were made through Jesus — the Word who was in the beginning, the Word who was with God, the Word who was God (Jn. 1:1-3). Thus, wisdom is Jesus and Jesus is wisdom. And, like Solomon says, there is more gain in Jesus than in folly, for He is the light of the world (Jn. 8:12). Yes and amen! Right answer.

Yet, Solomon fails to ask the right question. Read on . . .

And yet I perceived that the same event happens to all of them. Then I said in my heart, “What happens to the fool will happen to me also. Why then have I been so very wise?” And I said in my heart that this also is vanity. For of the wise as of the fool there is no enduring remembrance, seeing that in the days to come all will have been long forgotten. How the wise dies just like the fool!

(Ecclesiastes 2:14b-16 ESV)

Why have I been so very wise . . . the wise dies just like the fool. Nope! The wise DO NOT die just like the fool! Oh, the curse of an under the sun view of life.

If what is most valued on this plant is a legacy of enduring remembrance, then yeah, wisdom — even wisdom that is Jesus — also is vanity. Paul agreed with that; “If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied” (1Cor. 15:19). But we’re not talking about this life only. For “in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep” (1Cor. 15:20). And if Jesus is the firstfruits, then for those who have gained Jesus, who have gained wisdom, we are the rest of the fruit. And thus under the sun is a temporary beginning not a final destination.

So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.

(2Corinthians 5:6-8 ESV)

We are always of good courage . . . yes, we are of good courage. There will forever be more gain in wisdom than in folly. For at home in the body, our under the sun reality, will give way to at home with the Lord, our in heavenly places hope. What’s going on here and now is not vanity, it is preparatory.

We can have all the right answers but still bomb the question if we “are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man” (Mark 8:33). We can possess eternal life and yet live such temporary existences. We can one day inherit all things and yet live today as paupers with no hope.

Oh, for a mind set on things above. For a joy that is fed from things above.

Oh, to not only have the right answers, but to also be asking the right questions.

Only by His grace. Always for His glory.

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Knowledge Grounded in Heavenly Places

I know that many counsel against it. That for those who have studied such things, starting one’s day with one’s phone in hand isn’t recommended. But it’s what I do.

Alarm goes off and I head downstairs to make coffee. As I wait for the machine to warm up, the beans to grind, and the water to boil, I scroll. What happened yesterday? What are the headlines from overnight? With a quick read of the headlines from a couple of different sources, I can know at a high level what happened over the past few hours in the far east, the middle east, and the east coast. Rarely is it good news, but somehow, I feel good knowing the news. Or do I?

Something I read this morning in Ecclesiastes has me noodling on that question?

I said in my heart, “I have acquired great wisdom, surpassing all who were over Jerusalem before me, and my heart has had great experience of wisdom and knowledge.” And I applied my heart to know wisdom and to know madness and folly. I perceived that this also is but a striving after wind.

For in much wisdom is much vexation, and he who increases knowledge increases sorrow.

(Ecclesiastes 1:16-18 ESV)

If ever there was a modern culture that could empathize with Israel’s ancient king, it’s ours. We know a lot. Well, maybe not us personally, but with our devices ever present, ever ready, and seemingly ever able to answer every “Hey, Siri” question, you could argue we have a lot of “wisdom” and a ton of “knowledge” at our fingertips. From geopolitical dynamics anywhere in the world, to just-in-time knowledge of how to perfectly pan fry a steak, we can know it all. Anything we want to know, we can know. Anything we want to “apply our hearts” to our streaming devices, like a great genie, respond with, “Your query is my command.” And says Solomon, with all that information at our fingertips, it can bring much vexation and increases sorrow.

Vexation and sorrow. Frustration and grief. Trouble and hurt. Abundance of sadness and pain. That’s what you get, says the Preacher, when you think you can know it all.

I the Preacher have been king over Israel in Jerusalem. And I applied my heart to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under heaven. It is an unhappy business that God has given to the children of man to be busy with. I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and a striving after wind.

(Ecclesiastes 1:12-14 ESV)

Solomon wanted to discern it all and experience it all. And, given the size of his world at the time, and the size of his bank account and the almost unlimited storehouse of his resources, he pretty much did see everything that is done under the sun. And all it did was leave him unhappy. The more he knew the more it felt like he was “spitting into the wind” (MSG). You get the sense that knowing it all yielded more cynicism than it did satisfaction. Produced more inner convulsions than contentment. More headaches than happiness.

How come? At the least, I think, it’s because we were never designed to be all-knowing. Omniscience is reserved for One. Wanting to know all that He knows is what got us into trouble in the first place (Gen. 3:1-7).

But perhaps just as importantly, vexation and sorrow are the fruit of knowledge which is processed solely with an “under the sun” filter. Solomon’s wisdom was earthly wisdom. The Preacher’s knowledge was a worldly knowledge. What this son of David lacked was an anchor tethering all the data he had collected under the sun to what was going on “above the sun.”

In the circles where I circulate, there’s a lot of talk these days about having a “biblical worldview” — the need to see life through a scriptural lens. I’m all for that. We need that. But as I chew on Solomon’s under the sun lament this morning, I wonder if we need something more. If in addition to having the right worldview, we also need to have our minds firmly grounded in the right unworldly venue.

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.

(Colossians 3:1-2 ESV)

We’ve been raised with Christ, seated with Him in heavenly places (Eph. 2:6). Our life is hidden with Christ in God. Though still earthbound our being is no longer earth constrained. Thus, for whatever we know, for all that know, it should be interpreted within the context of things that are above, not within the constraints of what is under the sun.

We are subjects of a kingdom which is not of this world, “our citizenship is in heaven” (Php. 3:20). And thus, what we know, and all we know, we should know within the reality of waiting for a Savior who’s already won the battle and is coming again soon in victory.

Thus, we can declare, “Vexation, be gone!” For we are more than conquerors (Rom. 8:37). “Sorrows, cease!” For we consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us (Rom. 8:18).

Yeah, we know a lot under the sun. Maybe too much. But in heavenly places we possess a lot, are promised a lot, and will soon inherit a lot. So, rejoice, dear brother. Put away fear, dear sister.

For with heavenly wisdom there is much hope. And we who increase in heaven-filtered knowledge should increase also “with joy unspeakable and full of glory” (1Peter 1:8-9 KJV).

That’s at least part of what it is to have knowledge grounded in heavenly places.

Isn’t it?

I’m thinkin’ . . .

By His grace. For His glory.

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Where God Chooses to Dwell

This morning I’m chewing on where God is dwelling.

Every Sunday, our corporate worship begins with a call to examine ourselves.  And it’s always the same inventory we’re encouraged to consider.  Are we weary and need rest?  Are we mourning the loss of someone, or something, and need comfort?  Has it been one of those weeks that has us walking into church on Sunday morning feeling worthless, wondering if even God cares?  Perhaps we have known failure because of weakness and need strength?  Or maybe, we have been so reminded over the past week that we are sinners who are in need of a Savior.  Then, we’re reminded, “Jesus welcomes you!”

True?  Yeah, I’m thinkin’ . . . and it’s not just a New Testament gospel thing.  My reading this morning reminds me it’s an Old Testament good news thing, as well.  It has always been where God chooses to dwell.

For thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: “I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite.” 

(Isaiah 57:15 ESV)

I dwell . . . says the Almighty. I settle down declares the One who is high and lifted up.  I reside, I abide, I lodge. There are places where My presence is present.  Chew on that for a bit.  Though He is infinite and eternal, this is not some distant God who is unable, nor unwilling to inhabit time and space.  Not a God who has determined to be alone, but one who wants to be known.

So, where does He hang?  Where we might expect: in the high and holy place.  And — oh, what a glorious and! — where maybe it’s a little less intuitive to us; and also with him, and her, who is of a contrite and lowly spirit.  Literally, with those who know they are just dust and know what it is to be brought low, humiliated, and humbled.  With those, as we remind ourselves each Sunday, who are weary, mourning, feeling worthless, weak, and aware of their transgressions.  With such is where God chooses to dwell!

It’s when we think of ourselves “more highly than we ought” (Rom. 12:3) that we run the risk of not knowing the presence of God.  When I give into the temptation to think that I’m rich, prospering, and in need of nothing, it’s then that I tend to be oblivious to the knocking.  Oh, but when I’m reminded that I am “wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked”, then I am so ready to open the door when He knocks. Anxious to invite Him in. Hungering and thirsting to commune with Him (Rev. 3:17-20).  And it’s then, when I’m weak and weary, lowly and on the verge of losing it, that He purposes to settle down and dwell with me.

How come?  Well, as we also remind ourselves every Sunday, the Jesus who dwells with those who are of a contrite and lowly spirit is the ally of those who were once His enemies, the defender of the guilty, the justifier of those who have run out of excuses, and the friend of sinners. So, it’s with such where He chooses to dwell.

All because of His abundant, over-flowing grace.  All for His everlasting, all-deserving glory.

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Give Me Some Attitude

There’s a lot of attitude in my house these days.  Though my grandsons have been living with me now for almost three years, it’s as they get to be 3 and 4 ½ years old that the attitude-o-meter in the house finds itself spiking frequently.  Oh, for the days when they just goo-ed and gah-ed and were for the most part pretty docile.  (Don’t kid yourself, while those were good days, these days are such a blast . . . as a guy who was blessed to be involved in bringing up 5 girls, these two boys have brought about a wealth of new experience and joy.  But I digress.  Back to the attitude.)

This morning as I walk down the Hall of Faith in Hebrews 11, I’m picking up some attitude that’s being laid down.

By faith Noah, being warned by God concerning events as yet unseen, in reverent fear constructed an ark for the saving of his household. By this he condemned the world and became an heir of the righteousness that comes by faith.   (Hebrews 11:7 ESV)

By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. . . For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God.  (Hebrews 11:8, 10 ESV)

By faith Sarah herself received power to conceive, even when she was past the age, since she considered Him faithful who had promised.  (Hebrews 11:11 ESV)

[Abraham] considered that God was able even to raise [Isaac] from the dead, from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back.  (Hebrews 11:19 ESV)

{Moses] considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward.  By faith he left Egypt.  (Hebrews 11:26-27a ESV)

The writer to the Hebrews says that without faith it is impossible – yes, impossible – to please God (Heb. 11:6).  And then He curates a “Hall of Faith” which demonstrates what faith looks like in action, what pleasing God resembles. And as I wander the Hall this morning and take in its exhibits, I see attitude.

Noah did what he did, by faith, because of reverent fear of God.  In response to the goodness of God in making Himself known to Noah, in awe and wonder and rejoicing, he built a boat.

Abraham ended up going while not knowing because he was looking forward to something.  He had an attitude of expectation and anticipation for something ahead which was far superior to anything that lay behind.

Sarah, Abraham, and Moses all had a judging attitude.  Sarah judged God faithful.  She considered her God dependable and she delivered a baby.  Abraham judged God able to do all things.  He considered God capable of even raising the dead, and God kinda’ did (and definitely, one day, would).  And Moses judged the reproach of Christ as greater wealth than anything the world had to offer.  He considered that bearing His Savior’s shame, and being reviled as His Savior was reviled, worth it. For, like Paul, he considered “that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed” (Rom. 8:18). 

See the attitude?  I do.

Belief begets behavior. Attitude begets action.

Oh Lord, give me some attitude.

By Your grace.  For Your glory.

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Soul Preservative (2014 Rerun)

My thoughts go back to the days of canning. That time of year when fruits and vegetables were prepared and then packed into glass Mason jars. As I recall it, there were three key components to making sure that was canned didn’t spoil. What put the “preserve” in the preservatives was the canning liquid poured in, the heat applied, and the seal created. Get those three things right and, it seemed, those fruits and vegetables could sit on those shelves forever . . . though they never lasted that long. This morning, something I read has me thinking about the soul’s preservative.

For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what is promised. For,

“Yet a little while,
and the coming One will come and will not delay;
but My righteous one shall live by faith, and if he shrinks back,
My soul has no pleasure in him.”

But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who have faith and preserve their souls.

(Hebrews 10:36-39 ESV)

The book of Hebrews declares the supremacy and superiority of Christ for the purpose of restoring and renewing the believers’ holy determination to keep on keeping on. These Hebrew brothers and sisters were taking it in the teeth for their faith. Their arms were growing tired from carrying the banner . . . their feet were growing blistered from running the race . . . the glory of the prize set before them blurred because of the sweat and tears in their eyes . . . and they were wavering with turning back to that which, would in part, ease some of the opposition. And so, for them, Christ and the implications of His death, resurrection, and ascension are presented to encourage them to persevere. And in so doing, to “preserve their souls.”

You’ll only find that translation in the ESV and NASB. In other translations it’s the “saving of the soul.” But, based on my set of helps, preserving probably is the more literal and accurate translation. While it was by faith we WERE saved, it is also by faith that WE ARE BEING saved, or, in a sense, preserving the soul. Faith then, in a sense, is the canning liquid of our souls. Faith is our soul preservative.

Life provides the heat . . . more than we want sometimes. The Holy Spirit has been given as the unfailing seal (Eph. 1:13). And faith, in a sense, is the surrounding atmosphere that maintains the vitality of the inner man.

All the truth concerning Christ, His person, and His work, has little value unless it is mixed with faith (Heb. 4:2). The promises of God are of no effect if not applied. But when the truth of God . . . and the promises of God . . . are received and believed by faith, they have a way of preserving the soul. When the “fluid of faith” envelopes the believer, then what’s happening in the “here and now” is placed in the context of what will be “there and then.” Trials are put in the context of testing and refining. The pressures of life are submerged in the promises of God.

And it plays out at the most practical and fundamental of levels. I believe the Bible is the Word of God . . . and so I read it . . . and am transformed by the renewing of my mind. I believe that God hears and answers prayer . . . and so I speak into an empty room . . . and know a peace that passes understanding. I believe that God is Sovereign . . . and so every circumstance has His fingerprints on it . . . and I submit to it, and rest in His ever-present care. Truth . . . mixed with faith . . . becomes the preserving agent for the soul.

O’, that I would be of “those who have faith.” That faith would be my soul preservative.

By His grace. For His glory.

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Perfected For All Time

Not so much hovering over a phrase this morning as I am soaking in it. A reminder that re-centers reality. A truth I can take through the day. A word (actually, four words) that can’t help but evoke a bit of wonder.

For by a single offering [Christ] has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified.

(Hebrews 10:14 ESV)

Perfected for all time . . . Marinate in that, child of God! Your salvation isn’t about being “new and improved”, it’s about being perfected for all time.

It’s not our state yet. But it is our standing at this very moment.

While we are being sanctified . . . or, as the NIV puts it, being made holy . . . or, as Peterson renders it, taking part in the purifying process . . . for us works-in-progress, our perfection isn’t measured by how far we’ve progressed. Instead, it depends wholly and solely on a single offering. Our justification isn’t a matter of just eventually doing enough to warrant the “perfected” designation, but our completeness, our wholeness, is realized only because we are in Christ. Because He is perfect, so too are we in Him.

Not that I don’t want to cooperate with the Spirit’s transforming and conforming work in me, not that I don’t want to reflect Jesus more, but it’s also not that my perfection is somehow dependent upon my performance. I enter this day, fully accepted in Beloved. Nothing I do today can make me more acceptable to God, nothing I do today can make me less acceptable to God. My perfection is not rated on a sliding scale but is realized only because of a finished work — the work of a single offering on the cross of Calvary.

Perfected for all time . . . Let it sink in afresh. Let it wash over you anew. Let it bring the rest of the redeemed. And then let that once forever finished work spur us on to the daily work of taking part in the purifying process.

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

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Bringing Forth Justice

I read the familiar verses, and I reach for my dark green colored-pencil to underline the phrase. But then I pause, and instead grab my red colored-pencil.

Behold My Servant, whom I uphold,
My chosen, in whom My soul delights;
I have put My Spirit upon Him;
He will bring forth justice to the nations.
He will not cry aloud or lift up His voice,
or make it heard in the street;
a bruised reed He will not break,
and a faintly burning wick He will not quench;
He will faithfully bring forth justice.
He will not grow faint or be discouraged
till He has established justice in the earth;
and the coastlands wait for His law.

(Isaiah 42:1-3 ESV)

A thrice-repeated word, justice. A three-peat promise, He will bring it. But I think a two-part fulfillment.

Does God care about justice? I’m thinkin’ . . . It’s why He sent His Servant — His chosen One, the One in whom He delights — clothed in His Spirit.

And there’s a day coming, when He will establish justice in the earth. A day when His reign is established for all to see, a day when justice will be the world-known norm. A day to look forward to, a day to anticipate, a day to watch for. A day to be underlined by my dark green colored-pencil, the day of His second coming.

But the Servant in these first couple of verses isn’t characterized by power, might, and majesty, but by quietness, meekness, and humility. Not by proclamation but by a lowly presentation. And so, I instead pick up my red colored-pencil — the one I use for salvation — and underline the phrase repeated in verses one and two, He will bring forth justice.

Isn’t that what Jesus accomplished on the cross? Justice?

The price paid in full for the transgression. The penalty appropriate for the crime. He who knew no sin becoming sin for us (2Cor. 5:21). Christ, coming as the lowly Servant, appearing “once for all at the end of the ages to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself” (Heb. 9:26b).

Cancelling sin’s due judgment through full atonement. Removing any lasting recrimination through full and faithful reparation. Bringing forth justice so that all who trust in His finished work might rest under the judicial declaration, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1)

He has faithfully brought forth justice to the nations! That’s a gospel truth, amen?

But wait . . . there’s more . . .

He will not grow faint or be discouraged
till He has established justice in the earth;
and the coastlands wait for His law.

(Isaiah 42:4 ESV)

He will establish justice in the earth. The operative dynamic of heaven will one day be the operative dynamic of earth. That’s a second coming truth, amen?

Okay, time to grab my dark green-colored pencil.

Because of grace. For His glory.

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An Indestructible Life

This morning? A bit of resurrection appreciation. Easter’s not just for the spring.

Reading in Hebrews. Reading about Jesus as priest. More specifically, that He’s “a priest forever.”

Now if perfection had been attainable through the Levitical priesthood (for under it the people received the law), what further need would there have been for another priest to arise after the order of Melchizedek, rather than one named after the order of Aaron? . . . For it is evident that our Lord was descended from Judah, and in connection with that tribe Moses said nothing about priests.

This becomes even more evident when another priest arises in the likeness of Melchizedek, who has become a priest, not on the basis of a legal requirement concerning bodily descent, but by the power of an indestructible life. For it is witnessed of Him,

“You are a priest forever, after the order of Melchizedek.”

(Hebrews 7:11, 14-17 ESV)

Forever. It’s kind of an important word in the book of Hebrews. Think about it and it’s kind of an important word for us too. If we what we believe, if what we follow, if what we hope in isn’t something that lasts forever, then what’s the point? Without forever, then the life stories we are writing really have no greater context, no greater narrative to fit into. But if there is forever, then what we do now matters beyond now. So, what we believe in now — and in whom we believe now — better be about forever too.

Jesus is a priest forever. Just as He is king forever (Heb. 1:8), Jesus also “holds His priesthood permanently” (Heb. 7:24). And how come? Because Jesus Himself “continues forever.”

Forever . . . like I said, it’s kind of an important word.

And forever is the number one qualification for someone who is going to be identified as a priest like the priest portrayed in the story of Melchizedek (Gen. 14:18-20, Heb. 7:1-10) — the qualification of “having neither beginning of days nor end of life” (Heb. 7:3). Thus, Jesus is entitled to the Melchizedek priesthood not on the basis of a legal requirement concerning bodily descent, but by the power of an indestructible life.

Okay, it’s taken a while for me to get there, but that’s what I’m chewing on this morning, the power of an indestructible life. It’s kind of important, isn’t it?

A reminder that the resurrection of Jesus Christ is a pretty big deal. For without it, there is no forever. No forever king, no forever priest, no forever sacrifice, no forever advocate. Thus, no forever hope.

A reminder that we need the power of an indestructible life. We need, as Peterson puts it, “the sheer force of resurrection life” (Heb. 7:16 MSG).

Jesus holds His priesthood permanently “because He continues forever” (Heb. 7:24). Attested to by an empty tomb, the proof of an indestructible life.

As such, Jesus is able to “save to the uttermost” those who have placed their faith in Him because “He always lives” to intercede on their behalf (Heb. 7:25) — possible only because of an indestructible life.

We look forward in anticipation of a certain forever, because of the power of an indestructible life. Amen?

By His grace. For His glory.

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A Waiting Game

Hovering over a verse in Isaiah this morning. More so, hovering over a particular word. An action word, a verb. A verb twice used. First about something that God is doing, then about something His people should be doing. And as I chew on it, it seems to me it’s a waiting game.

Therefore the LORD waits to be gracious to you, and therefore He exalts Himself to show mercy to you. For the LORD is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for Him.

(Isaiah 30:18 ESV)

Context? Assyria is threatening and the people of God are calculating. Assyria is laying siege and about to strike, and God’s people are eyeing Egypt for safety (Isa. 30:1-2). “Don’t do it,” says the LORD through His prophet, “Don’t go there.” Salvation won’t be found in running to and realigning with Egypt, instead it will be realized in returning and resting in Me (Isa. 30:15).

How come? Because the LORD waits. So, wait for Him.

Seems like there’s a number of Hebrew words that are translated as “wait” in the Old Testament. The word used here has the sense of waiting as in tarrying, but it also has the sense of longing for, so much so that there’s a sense of lying in wait in order to ambush. So, God is longing to pounce with grace. And God’s people should be waiting to spring up and ambush grace in return. The LORD waits to be gracious . . . wait for Him.

Okay, think about it . . .

The LORD is longing to be gracious; He wants to rise up and show mercy. So what conditions are necessary for “unmerited favor” to spring forth? Unmeritting (not a word) behavior? I’m thinkin’. What’s needed for compassionate forgiveness to pounce? Transgressions needing compassion and forgiveness? Yup, thinkin’ that too. So, is the LORD waiting, tarrying, and longing for us to get our act together? I don’t think so.

Sure, His desire is that we be conformed to the image of His Son, and that works been started (Rom. 8:29). He has determined a day when the bride is presented to His Son “in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish” (Eph. 5:27). But today isn’t that day. Today is the day of jars of clay figuring out how “to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2Cor. 4:7). Today’s the day of God patiently, yet anticipatorily (yeah, that’s a word) tarrying to be gracious. Today’s the day of God longing to show mercy. Because of the finished work on the cross of Christ, today’s the day when, where sin is still way too present, His limitless grace is waiting in ambush (Rom. 5:20b). The LORD waits . . .

So, what are we to do? Well, it’s a waiting game. Wait for Him . . .

Rather than longing and tarrying in readiness to ambush grace, we are going to be tempted to run to Egypt. Could be the Egypt of denial (not of de Nile). The pagan world that tells us what’s been done isn’t so bad, that being who we are is really what matters. Don’t go there.

Or we might want to find refuge in the Egypt of just trying harder and working at it more. The Egypt of slavery to self-righteousness which, it turns out, isn’t righteous enough. The religious world that tells us that it’s in getting our act together where we find the grace of God. That doesn’t make sense, does it? Paul makes it clear, “It is no longer on the basis of works; otherwise grace would no longer be grace” (Rom. 11:6). Don’t go there either. Stay away from Egypt. Wait for Him . . .

I’m not waking up every morning planning on how to mess up. Not seeking out weakness and failure. Not inviting guilt and shame. But somehow, every day I seem to put on Nikes and I Just Do It. And the LORD’s waiting to be gracious, longing to show mercy. For the sake of His steadfast love towards those He has brought into covenant relationship and for the glory of His name, He waits.

Thus, I want to wake up every morning ready to ambush the grace of God that awaits. In those skirmishes with the old nature where victory in Jesus is not quite realized, I’m longingly waiting on the grace of Jesus. Ready to tread again that well-known and well-worn path to the foot of the cross where the blood of Christ cleanses from all sin (1John 1:7), and where triumphant power rests on thorn-infested weakness (2Cor. 12:7-9).

I’m waiting, with longing, for grace. He’s waiting, with longing, with grace. We are both, with longing, waiting.

Like I said, it’s a waiting game. Isn’t it? I’m thinkin’ . . .

Only by His grace. Always for His glory.

Amen?

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