More Grace (2018 Rerun)

If I thought it “a bit disturbing” back in ’18, I might consider it downright unsettling in 2024. We are still quarreling and still fighting. And while the “what’s” of our disagreements may be legitimate and substantive, the “how’s” of our disputes just aren’t. They’ll know we are His disciples by our love for one another (Jn. 13:35), not by our public contempt for one another.

So, how come we are talking about the right things but in the wrong way? Could it be as simple as we’ve been tripped up by “friendship with the world?” Not it’s pleasures, but its polarization? Not its treasures, but it’s tactics? Not it’s values, but it’s venom? I don’t know, but these thoughts from six years ago still seem relevant today. I’m thinking we still need more grace.


His letter is written to “the twelve tribes in the Dispersion.” So, James’ epistle was penned for believers but with a particular Hebrew flavor. Maybe not surprising given that it’s thought this could be the first NT book written, and thus written to a church that was still largely Jewish.

So it’s for those who are born again. Those who are new creations in Christ. And maybe that’s what makes the opening verses of chapter 4 a bit disturbing.

What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you? Is it not this, that your passions are at war within you? You desire and do not have, so you murder. You covet and cannot obtain, so you fight and quarrel. You do not have, because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions. You adulterous people! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God.

(James 4:1-4 ESV)

What? Quarrels? Fights? Murder? And all this among the believers?!? Say it ain’t so!

What happened to “and all who believed were together and had all things in common” (Acts 2:44)? Or, “Now the full number of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things that belonged to him was his own” (Acts 4:32)? Even if you understand that James isn’t referring to murder in the literal sense but in the Sermon on the Mount sense, that of intense anger towards someone (Mt. 5:21-22), you’re still asking yourself, what’s going on?

What could so corrupt the unity of the Spirit believers were born again into (1Cor. 12:13, Eph. 4:1-3)? What could so mar the testimony of love for one another that Jesus said would mark His disciples (Jn. 13:35)?

Two things, apparently. Passions at war within us, and love for the world around us. Evidently a lethal combo for the church being the church.

The nature of the flesh is to want. To desire what it thinks it must have to be satisfied. What it feels it needs in order to experience pleasure. And when someone else has that something, there can be a tendency to turn on that person. Either out of jealousy, or of trying to compete for it. Cue a catalyst for conflict.

And what feeds the flesh? The world. The system of values, priorities, and prizes that man has built up for themselves in order to satisfy “the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions” (1Jn. 2:16). The world feeds the flesh. And flesh wars against others driven by flesh. And then you have quarrels, and fights, and murders . . . oh my!!!

What’s the answer? Stop it!!!

It’s that simple, says James. Stop coveting and start praying, asking for what you think you need. And if you don’t get it, then know that you ask amiss.

What’s more, stop befriending the world (by the way, that’s not BFF type of befriending, that’s getting into bed with type of “friends” . . . you adulterous people). For to befriend the world is to set yourself up as an enemy of God. Why would believers do that? Oh yeah, the flesh!

Ugly mirror to be looking into this morning. Bitter food to be chewing on. But thank God for the word “but”.

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

(James 4:6 ESV)

More grace. Greater grace. Larger grace. Stronger grace. That’s the grace our God dispenses . . . and dispenses freely and abundantly.

And it’s available to the humble. To those who look in the mirror of Scripture and see their own reflection in the twelve tribes of the dispersion. Who refuse to say, “Not me! That’s someone else,” but know the battle between the flesh and the Spirit is their daily reality. Who, by the Spirit’s enabling power, say, “No!” to the flesh, and “Forgive me” to God. Who preach the gospel to themselves — the blood’s power to forgive and cleanse, the empty tomb’s power to allow those once in bondage to the flesh to live in newness of life. To believe in, and avail themselves of, “but He gives more grace.”

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

(James 4:10 ESV)

Yes, He will.

Because of more grace. And that for His glory.

Amen?

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The Root of the Roots

If “the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils” (1Tim. 6:10), this morning I think I may have dug up a couple more. And beyond that, James also puts his finger on what looks to be at the root of the roots.

For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice.

(James 3:16 ESV)

Jealousy? Selfish ambition? Add them to the root of “the love of money.” Because, says the Spirit, where they exist, not only will “things fall apart” (MSG) but, as most translations render it, there is “every evil thing.”

Jealousy . . . Could be referring to envy. But also, could be referring to indignation. Whichever, it has the idea of being accompanied by an “excitement of mind”, a fervor, a zeal. So that the fruit from this root is “fierceness of indignation” or “contentious rivalry” or “punitive zeal.” The prevailing sense, for me, is the sense of being fighting mad.

Selfish ambition . . . Literally, according to my Greek-to-English dictionary, “electioneering”, or “a self-seeking pursuit of political office by unfair means.” It also uses the words “partisanship” and “fractiousness.” I’m not making this up.

So, every vile practice is on the table where there is zealous indignation mixed with fractious, partisan, self-promotion. Hmm . . . am I reading my bible or watching the news?

And how come? What’s the source of the source? What’s at the root of these roots? James covers that too.

But if you have bitter jealousy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast and be false to the truth. This is not the wisdom that comes down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic.

(James 3:14-15 ESV)

Bitter hearts, boastful ambition, bad behavior, it’s all sourced in bogus wisdom. Earthly wisdom — wisdom focused too much on what is going on “under the sun” (Eccl. 3:16-18). Unspiritual wisdom — ways that seem right to a man but which, in the end, lead to death (Prov. 14:12). Demonic wisdom — a reminder that our battle isn’t just with flesh and blood (Eph. 6:12). Fake wisdom, the type of wisdom which, in fact, is foolishness (Rom. 1:22).

But, says James, our wisdom should be a wisdom from above.

But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.

(James 3:17-18 ESV)

Wanna uproot the root of contentious rivalry? Wanna see the spring of fractious partisanship dried up? Then bring on wisdom from above. You’ll know it when you see it. It is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. Hmm . . . sounds a lot like Jesus. It should. Jesus is the wisdom from above (1Cor. 1:30, Eph. 1:17).

Wanna be light in a dark world? Wanna be salt in a decaying world? Then striving to live out from above wisdom in a culture strangling itself with earthly, unspiritual, demonic wisdom might just be a good way to do that.

Oh, to recognize the root of the root of all kinds of evil things — a root with shoots within me. To ferret out what’s behind, as Peterson puts it, “everyone ending up at others’ throats” (James 3:16b MSG). To then, through confession and repentance, dig out that root of earthly wisdom and let the Spirit transplant instead the root of wisdom that comes down from above. Jesus in me. Jesus through me.

Only by His grace. Always for His glory.

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Underwear?

I don’t envy bible translators. Not only are they trying to map ancient languages into readable, modern text, but they are also often trying to connect our modern mindset to ancient images. That works well enough when God’s people are likened to a flock, or to a bride. We get that — we’re sheep under the care of a shepherd, we’re betrothed being readied for a wedding day. Those symbols pretty easily communicate a somewhat time-transcendent image of what the people of God are like. But this morning, I’m taken a little aback as the chosen people of God are likened to underwear. (Did that get your attention?)

For as the loincloth clings to the waist of a man, so I made the whole house of Israel and the whole house of Judah cling to me, declares the LORD, that they might be for me a people, a name, a praise, and a glory, but they would not listen.

(Jeremiah 13:11 ESV)

Okay, so only the CSB translates it as “underwear.” But being likened to a loincloth does not quite meld with my western worldview either.

Be honest, describing the church — a people, a name, a praise, and a glory — as the bride plays a lot better for our modern mindset than does a loincloth. Call me a special people abiding in the Vine (John 15) and I kind of get it, but a belt bound about the waist of God? Go ahead and hail the church as the beautiful bride (Eph. 5), but also as a great girdle (KJV)? Hmm . . .

Do a bit of reading on the loincloth and you can start imagining some of the connections perhaps intended. For example, the ancient Jewish world would have regarded the loins as the seat of strongest desires and affections, much as we would refer to the heart. Thus, a loincloth speaks, as one commentator says, of “nearness and dearness.” Also, in the ancient world, apparently loincloths might be decked out to indicate one’s greatness, crafted with decorative pendants hung from the belt. More study, more noodling, and there’s probably more connections which could be suggested.

But the intended connection is clear from the text. Just as a loincloth clings to the waist of a man, so the people of God were made to cling to the LORD.

God chose a people to be near Him, to cleave to Him, to closely pursue Him. They would be His people and He would be in their midst. They would be called by Him to Him, and they would be placed near to His heart, embraced at the depths of His innermost desire and affection. (Chew on that for a bit).

While the image of being underwear (thanx again for that picture, CSB) is somewhat jarring, and maybe even uncomfortable this morning, the implications of being brought into such a potentially intimate relationship with God is overwhelming. How near to His heart does He long His people to be? Pretty near!

And, for what purpose?

. . . that they might be for me a people, a name, a praise, and a glory . . .

A people drawn near that they would be named as His people, for His praise, and for His glory. Not because of who we are, but because of what He’s done. Not because of what we’ve done, but because of who He is (thanx for that lyric, Casting Crowns).

Who am I? Someone created, and then, by God’s sovereign determination and provision, re-created and brought near — oh, so very near — to the heart of God.

Only by His grace. Only for His glory.

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Whaddya Want?

A well-known passage. A stirring declaration. And in its shadow, a response perhaps unnoticed and a question perhaps rarely marked and answered. So, this morning I hover in the shadow of this great truth, its almost assumed implication, and try and honestly ask myself the question, “Whaddya want?”

The next day again John was standing with two of his disciples, and he looked at Jesus as He walked by and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God!” The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. Jesus turned and saw them following and said to them, “What are you seeking?”

(John 1:35-38a ESV)

Behold, the Lamb of God . . . A proclamation? An invitation? A regulation? Yes. It’s a truth to know. It’s a welcome to receive. It’s a duty to perform. I could stop right now and there would be more than enough in those five words to chew on through the day. Behold, the Lamb of God.

They followed Him . . . If Jesus was good enough for John, He was good enough for John’s disciples. If John was leading a Jesus parade, then they were ready to get in line. It’s the only right response, isn’t it? I’m thinkin’.

So, John was pointing the way, and his disciples were walking in the way. But wait, there’s more.

Apparently, this wasn’t enough for Jesus.

Jesus turned and saw them following and said to them, “What are you seeking?”

What are you seeking? What are you looking for? (CSB) “What are you after?” (MSG) “Whaddya want? (PJCV). Literally, what are you striving after?

Think about it. They’ve just decided to follow a Lamb. Yet, Genesis 49:9-10 indicates that the Messiah would be more like a lion — a scepter wielding, staff carrying, top of the food chain roaring king of the jungle. So, what’s with the Lamb thing?

Fluffy, gentle, frolicking and playful? Nope, that not’s the picture that would have come to mind for these first century followers of John. Lambs were about sacrifice. Lambs were about atonement for sin. Lambs were meant to be a blood offering so that others could live (Exodus 12:1-28). Jesus was a man likened to a creature born to die, and that’s who the disciples of John decided to follow.

Okay, so maybe now the almost always overlooked question asked by Jesus makes some sense. You’re following a Lamb whose life’s mission is to die. What are you seeking? Whaddya want?

Hmm . . . how to answer that . . .

Well Lord, I want my sins to be dealt with once and for all, taken away (Jn. 1:29), removed as far as the east is from the west (Ps. 103:12). So, to that end, I guess I want You to die, Lord. But me following you? Is that really where I want to follow You to? How about we skip that part and go right to the blessings of the kingdom You said You’d rule over. Maybe I want the blessed life. The easy life. The good life. Yeah, maybe that’s what I’m seeking.

Wrong answer, says Jesus. That’s not what following a lamb is about.

Then Jesus told His disciples, “If anyone would come after Me let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.”

(Matthew 16:24-25 ESV)

The Lamb of God’s sacrificial altar was a Roman cross. And those who would follow Him, says Jesus, need to be prepared to pick up their own cross. Is that what I’m seeking? Is that I want?

Take a deep breath . . . scary thing to say . . . “But yes Lord, that’s what I’m seeking?”

For if the way to the crown for You was by the cross, then I know the way to the kingdom of heaven for me is through the trials, troubles, and sufferings of earth. If Your wisdom is the world’s foolishness, if Your weakness is what confounds the world’s strength (1Cor. 1:27), then I want to live to die to self, I want Your power to be known in my weakness.

That’s what I want.

Only way it’s gonna happen is by Your grace. Only way it’s gonna happen is for Your glory.

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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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