Remember Me

Apparently, back in 2011, I thought I had resolved the tension I feel when reading Nehemiah 13. I didn’t. This morning, I find myself still struggling with what to take away from the last chapter of Nehemiah.

My bible titles the chapter, “Nehemiah’s Final Reforms.” Final, as in his last attempts at reform. Not final, as in those attempts took and thus there’s been no more need for reform. On the precipice of 400 years of silence (the gap between the last word of God given in the Old Testament and the first words dawning in the New), we have what we know will be a futile attempt to legislate obedience and enforce righteousness.

Even though, back in Nehemiah 10, the people had promised to live by the law of Moses and committed themselves to not intermarry, to not conduct business on the Sabbath, and to not neglect the support of the temple, in Nehemiah 13 the house of the Lord is “forsaken” (13:10-11), Jerusalem’s Sabbath business is booming (13:15-16), and intermarriage has become so common in some sectors that HSL classes (Hebrew as a Second Language) have become a thing (13:23-24). Cue Nehemiah’s ministry of confrontation (13:11, 17, 25).

And it’s not that I struggle with the idea that people-powered obedience is unsustainable, nor that government-enforced righteousness is non-transformational. It’s Nehemiah’s prayers that I wrestle with — that they are so personal.

From the get-go, Nehemiah has been a praying guy. Good on him! Oh, that I would be more of a Nehemiah. But it’s the shift in his prayers from “we” (Neh. 1:4-7) to “me” that I’m chewing on (gnawing on? gnashing on?) this morning.

Remember me, O my God, concerning this, and do not wipe out my good deeds that I have done for the house of my God and for His service.

Remember this also in my favor, O my God, and spare me according to the greatness of Your steadfast love.

Remember me, O my God, for good.

(Nehemiah 13:14, 21b, 30b ESV)

Remember me, O my God, for good . . . That’s how 13 chapters of rebuilding and reforming ends. Is that appropriate? Or is that problematic?

While, at first, I find the prayer problematic in that it seems self-centered and selfish, I know from what’s recorded of the life of Nehemiah that personal well-being and recognition wasn’t what motivated him. After all, he was a cupbearer, a pretty risky, self-sacrificing occupation. And he left the ease of his king’s courts to go and undertake the arduous reconstruction of his God’s city. What’s more, he endured through opposition. Rebuilding the city walls was no gimme task. Even when he is made governor, he doesn’t act like a typical self-aggrandized, self-serving, governor (Neh. 5:14-19).

And then, after rebuilding the walls with stone, he intentionally seeks to rebuild the people with Scriptures (Neh. 8). After building the walls, he then seeks to re-boot sacrifice in the temple and re-establish worship in the heart. No, I don’t think this is one of those leaders who’s made leading about himself.

So then, what about the “me” prayers?

Maybe they are less about his ego and more about eternity. Less about focus on self and more about faith in the future. After all, though the walls which he had built around Jerusalem stood firm, the ways which he had tried to implant within the people seemed fruitless. If Nehemiah’s motive for doing what he did was a lasting earthly legacy, at best he was only partially successful. But if what drove Nehemiah to do what he faithfully did was a certainty that “your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matt. 6:4, 6, 18), then maybe petitioning God to remember isn’t such a bad prayer to pray. For all his “life’s work”, the walls of Jerusalem would eventually again topple, and the hearts of the people would perpetually remain fickle. Thus, his life’s work was not for reward in this life, but in the belief of a life yet to come.

So, was Nehemiah’s prayer really a faith prayer? Of faith in the certainty of future hopes yet to be realized? Of faith in the infallibility of God’s steadfast love one day actualized? Of faith in the surety that what is done on earth would in heaven be monetized (Matt. 6:19-20)? I’m thinkin . . .

We may not see the results of our efforts as we’d like to see them, but we can rest in the assurance that He will remember us for good.

Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.

(1Corinthians 15:58 ESV)

For God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love that you have shown for His name in serving the saints, as you still do.

(Hebrews 6:10 ESV)

Because of grace. For His glory.

Give me Father, a purpose deep,
In joy or sorrow Thy word to keep;
Faithful and true what e’er the strife,
Pleasing Thee in my daily life;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Oh let my love with fervor burn,
And from the world now let me turn;
Living for Thee, and Thee alone,
Bringing Thee pleasure on Thy throne;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, yes only one,
Now let me say,”Thy will be done”;
And when at last I’ll hear the call,
I know I’ll say “twas worth it all”;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.

~ C.T. Studd ~

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Love For This Present World

If it meant he loved money more than he loved Jesus, I think I can distance myself from the guy. If it meant that he loved “the pleasure of sin for a season” (Heb. 11:25 KJV), more than he loved the righteousness of the kingdom forever, then I think I can stand apart and maybe even cast a disparagement or two. But if Demas’s real issue is that he simply didn’t want to die, then it gets a little more uncomfortable for me.

Do your best to come to me soon. For Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me and gone to Thessalonica. Crescens has gone to Galatia, Titus to Dalmatia.

(2Timothy 4:9-10 ESV)

Paul knows that the fight is almost over, that the race is about done, and that all that remains is “being poured out as a drink offering” (2Tim. 6-7). The end is near, he will die at the hand of the Romans. And so, he writes to Timothy, “Come to me soon.” I need some encouragement. I need some support. And, bring my books and parchments, because I need to finish strong. So, come to me soon. Because Demas has deserted me.

And why did Demas, this once beloved co-laborer in the gospel (Col. 4:14, Phm. 1:24), bail on Paul? Because he was in love with this present world.

Don’t know why those are the words that struck a chord this morning (yeah, I do . . . thanx a lot, Holy Spirit), but they have.

I can’t count the number of times I have read about, studied, or heard a message on Demas’s desertion of Paul. And as I think back, I believe I’ve most often reacted to this verse with a shake of my head, a “Tsk, tsk” on my lips, and a certain sadness in my heart at the apparent 180 taken by this once faithful follower. Abandoning Paul, I’ve thought most often, must have been because he abandoned the kingdom.

But what if Demas went back to Thessalonica and continued to encourage the saints? What if he still read his bible, prayed for people, and witnessed faithfully? What if he was anything but an apostate but was, instead, simply not ready to die?

To hang with Paul was to be in danger with Paul. To serve alongside the persecuted was to run the risk of being persecuted. To support one sentenced to death was to risk being caught up in the execution. What if Demas just felt he still had too much to live for?

What if being in love with this present world simply meant that he had a wife he wanted to love, kids he wanted to see graduate, a daughter he wanted to walk down the aisle, and grandkids he wanted to one day spoil? What if, while in his head he believed along with Paul that “to live is Christ and die is gain” (Php. 1:21), in his heart he wasn’t yet fully abandoned to “the gain” but still held tightly on to some dreams?

I don’t know. But couldn’t loving this present world just mean that he still really wanted to be present in this world and that continuing in Rome put that in jeopardy? I’m thinkin’ . . .

If so, then it hits a little closer to home — this present home.

Oh, that my mind and my heart would be increasingly fixed “on things that are above, not on things that are on earth” (Col. 3:2). That the Spirit within me would bring into sharper focus the fullness of my salvation before me so that my faithfulness would not be constrained by a love for this present world.

Only by His grace. Always for His glory.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus
Look full in His wonderful face
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of his glory and grace

~Helen Howarth Lemmel~

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Wise for Salvation (2019 Rerun)

It’s a formula. May not look like it at first glance, but it is. We might not like to think that formulas should have a part in the Christian life, but sometimes they do. And, as Paul get’s ready to finish the good fight and leave the battlefield; as he prepares to receive the prize having finished the race, he reminds his son in the faith, Timothy, of the sufficiency of the Scriptures. And, of the formula.

But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it and how from childhood you have been acquainted with the sacred writings, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.

(2Timothy 3:14-17 ESV)

Chewing on 2Timothy 3:15 this morning.

It’s one of those “shadow verses.” Maybe not lesser known, necessarily, but probably lesser noticed, frequently, as it lies in the shade of 2Timothy 3:16, that mega-verse which declares “All Scripture is God breathed . . . “

And what caught me is the formula. Do you see it?

The Sacred Writings + Faith in Christ Jesus = Wise for Salvation

Literally, at the time Paul wrote this, the sacred writings, or as other translations render it, the holy Scriptures, refer to what we now call the Old Testament. Take those God-breathed writings, Paul says, add faith in Christ Jesus, and you have the understanding of God’s plan of salvation.

Jesus, having been foretold and foreshadowed in the writings of Moses and the Prophets (Lk. 24:27), is the key to unlocking the door. He is the filter through which the mystery of God’s redemptive plan is manifest. Take the Scriptures, apply faith in Christ Jesus, and, through the illuminating agency of the Holy Spirit, you have wisdom concerning salvation.

To be sure, Paul, in referring to the role the Scriptures played in Timothy’s childhood, was referring specifically to making wise as to the attainment of salvation. But, given that salvation is not a once-and-done life event–for, not only were we saved in the past from sin’s penalty, but we are being saved in the present from sin’s power and, will be saved at some future day from sin’s presence–the sacred writings, through faith in Christ, are able to make us wise also for the working out of our salvation (Php. 2:12-13). Thus, they are “profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.”

So, to be “wise unto salvation” (KJV)–our salvation past, our salvation present, and our salvation to come–we still need to be acquainted with the sacred writings–and ALL the sacred writings, both Old and New Testament–and anchor them to what we believe concerning the Person and the Work of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

If we don’t do that regularly, if we neglect to do it frequently, then, I fear, we just become dumb unto salvation. (I guess “unwise unto salvation” would be the nicer way to phrase it).

Without intentionally feeding on the Word of God, without really believing what we say we believe about the Son of God, we’re going to sub-optimize the gift that is ours through redemption. The abundant life Jesus came to give (Jn. 10:10) will be, at best, the so-so life. The paths He has promised to direct (Prov. 3:5-6) won’t be found. The power that He has said would be available won’t be present (Matt. 22:29). The peace that He has promised (Php. 4:7) won’t be realized.

It’s not rocket science. But, it is looking to me like a formula.

The Sacred Writings + Faith in Christ Jesus = Wise for Salvation

O Father, help us to hunger and thirst for righteousness (Matt. 5:6). Give us a taste that we might see the Lord is good (Ps. 34:8). Feed us through Your Word. Fuel our faith in Your Son through Your Spirit. And make us wise for salvation.

By Your grace. For Your glory.

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Presumptuously

It’s a long word in a long summary that catches my attention this morning. A long word used only a few times in the Old Testament but twice in this morning’s reading in Nehemiah. A long word which captures a perhaps less thought of aspect of sin — an aspect, however, that maybe should be noodled on more. A long word — thirteen letters, five syllables (I think) — worth chewing on.

In my bible, the heading for Nehemiah 9 is The People of Israel Confess Their Sin. The walls have been rebuilt, the people have been regathered, and the word of God is being reread (Neh. 8). And the light of the Law of Moses reveals clearly the depths of darkness which saw a people delivered from Egypt eventually sent into exile in Babylon. And so, Nehemiah gathers the people for corporate confession.

Before confession is made, though, context is set. The first part of Nehemiah 9 (verses 5-15) begins with worship, with standing up and blessing the God who alone is LORD. Of acknowledging Him as Maker of heaven and earth. Of remembering Him as the Chooser of Abram and his seed. Of knowing Him as the Promise-Keeper who pledged a land for His people. Of praising Him as the Deliverer who brought them out of Egypt. Of thanking Him as the Sustainer who gave them bread from heaven and water from the rock in the wilderness.

And then, that dreaded word . . . “But”! That awful word . . . “Yet”.

But they and our fathers acted presumptuously and stiffened their neck and did not obey Your commandments. . . .”

“And You warned them in order to turn them back to Your law. Yet they acted presumptuously and did not obey Your commandments, but sinned against Your rules, which if a person does them, he shall live by them, and they turned a stubborn shoulder and stiffened their neck and would not obey.”

(Nehemiah 9:16, 29 ESV)

And there’s that long word . . . Presumptuously.

After all God had done for His people, after He had miraculously delivered them and had faithfully provided for them and patiently sought to direct them, they in turn acted presumptuously.

Other bible translations render the original word as acted proudly or acted arrogantly. But the ESV reserves that translation for the Egyptians (9:10), enemies of God who knew God only through “signs and wonders” and who refused to humble themselves before His great power (9:10). For God’s people, those who knew God through covenant and deliverance, their rebellion sourced in pride and arrogance was akin to acting presumptuously.

Having known God’s power to release from bondage, they would use their freedom to freely pursue the ways of the world. Having received from God’s good hand abundant blessings, they would take it from there and do as they please. Having benefited from God’s gracious gifts, they would go on to somehow convince themselves that these gifts were really the fruit of their own efforts and merit. And so, rather than humble themselves, rather than cling to the promises and desire to be obedient, they acted presumptuously.

Yeah, it’s a long word. But if I’m honest with myself, apart from God’s patience and grace, it’s a short path from walking out of Egypt and then being sent to Babylon for a timeout — the path of acting presumptuously.

Oh, that my pride might not lead me to take for granted His provision. That my arrogance would not quench a desire to respond to His abundance.

Only by His grace. Only for His glory.

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The Lord Knows

Two pieces of teaching come together this morning, one from Jesus and the other from Paul. Kingdom teaching connected to comfort teaching.

First, Jesus is asked by the Pharisees (like they really wanted to know) “when the kingdom of God would come.” Whatever they expected a heavenly kingdom to look like, they pressed this supposed heavenly king — who looked nothing like what they expected a heavenly king should look like — when’s it gonna be here? And Jesus says, in effect, the problem is with your expectation.

Being asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, He answered them, “The kingdom of God is not coming in ways that can be observed, nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There!’ for behold, the kingdom of God is in the midst of you.”

(Luke 17:20-21 ESV)

The kingdom of God is in the midst of you . . . It’s not a “look, here it is”, or a “behold, there it stands” sort of kingdom. It’s a kingdom “within you” (NKJV, NIV). It’s an inside thing. Not a brick-and-mortar reality, but a soul-known reality.

Okay, that’s problematic, isn’t it? For a people who live life through their five senses, a soul sensed reality can be kind of hard to grasp . . . literally . . . pun intended. The kingdom of God is here, but not “in ways that can be observed.” So, how you gonna know what’s kingdom and what’s not? Or, perhaps more difficult yet, what’s kingdom and what’s counterfeit-kingdom? That’s where Paul’s words are comfort words, words worth chewing on.

But avoid irreverent babble, for it will lead people into more and more ungodliness, and their talk will spread like gangrene. . . . upsetting the faith of some. But God’s firm foundation stands, bearing this seal: “The Lord knows those who are His,” and, “Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity.”

(2Timothy 2:16-19 ESV)

But God’s firm foundation stands, bearing this seal: “The Lord knows who are His” . . . That’s the materiality of an immaterial kingdom. That’s the ruling embodiment of a reign embodied within. That’s the earthly physicality of heavenly spirituality . . . The Lord knows.

That’s the seal of the kingdom’s firm foundation. That’s the signet stamped within the bedrock of all we are asked to believe about a kingdom which has already come but is not already seen, a kingdom which is now but not yet. That the Lord knows, fully and exactly, where the “in the midst of you” actually is. That He has no problem knowing where His reign and His rule have been established. No question about those who are His. No confusion about who is being conformed increasingly into the likeness of their King — King Jesus, the King of kings and Lord of lords.

A lot of stuff I may not know about the kingdom, but the Lord knows. As someone who now “sees in a mirror dimly” (1Cor. 13:12) and struggles some days trying to distinguish and discern the heavenly kingdom’s dynamics from our worldly kingdom’s dysfunction, I can rest in the reality that the Lord knows.

And isn’t that what it means, at least in part, to walk by faith? I’m thinkin’ . . .

The kingdom of God is in the midst of you . . . Oh, what words of hope!

The Lord knows those who are His . . . Aah, what words of rest and comfort!

So, while the kingdom of God may not be a 5-sense kingdom, I can yet trust in the Lord with all my heart, that other sense, that spirit-to-Spirit connected sense. And, I don’t have to try to lean on my own understanding. Because He is Lord — the Lord who knows who are His — I can acknowledge Him in all my ways, confident He will make straight my paths. (Proverbs 3:5-6)

By His grace. For His glory.

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A Faith that Dwells

This morning, it’s a verse in 2 Timothy that has me thinking. Thinking about a faith that dwells.

Opening his letter to Timothy, Paul begins with some personal musings.

I thank God whom I serve, as did my ancestors, with a clear conscience, as I remember you constantly in my prayers night and day. As I remember your tears, I long to see you, that I may be filled with joy. I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, dwells in you as well.

(2Timothy 1:3-5 ESV)

They had spent a lot of time ministering together. Though technically Paul was more the teacher and Timothy the student, their relationship was far more reflective of that of a father and his son as they shared many an experience together co-laboring for the gospel. But now they were separated. Paul being salt in a Roman prison, Timothy charged to contend for the light in a local church. And Paul writes to his young protégé with fondness and longing. He tells him that he prays for him, that he thanks God for him, and that he remembers him — remembering the tears that Timothy shed at their last goodbye, remembering the sincere faith, the faith that dwelt in him.

A sincere faith. The real deal. Sincere. True. Authentic faith. A saving faith. A sacrificing faith. A serving faith. A sustaining faith. Not a flash-in-the pan faith, but an enduring faith. Faith for the long-haul. The substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen (Heb. 11:1 NKJV).

A sincere faith that dwells. A belief always abiding. A trust ever remaining, even through testing and trials. A hope at home within the heart of the believer. Not just an “occasional visitor” (thanx William MacDonald), but a forever friend. An integral part of his regenerated and reconstituted spiritual DNA.

An abiding faith, isn’t that what we all want? A foundation-providing faith, ever present and with no fear of failure? It’s power not in how much of it we can muster up, but in what our faith is placed upon. An ever-present trust in the steadfast love of a God who is, in His very essence, love. A remaining assurance of the unfathomable condescension of His Son who came to earth and of His forever finished work of taking on Himself our sin and paying the wages of sin we could never pay. An experience-confirmed conviction that the Spirit of God really was freely given us upon first believing and remains always the active agency for all that divinely dwells within — a sincere faith included.

Truly, we are not saved only by faith, but we are just as saved for faith. “As it is written, ‘The righteous shall live by faith.'” (Rom. 1:16-17).

Oh, for a sincere, unpretentious, authentic faith. Oh, that it would dwell in me as the always-present fruit of the fullness of God’s wondrous salvation.

Only by His grace. Always for His glory.

Amen?

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Storming the Gates

Use your finances wisely, He said. Invest in eternity, He said. Be faithful with “unrighteous wealth” and you’ll be entrusted with “true riches”, He said. Steward well what is Another’s and in a coming day He will give you what will forever be your own, He said. You can’t serve two masters, you can’t serve God and money, He said. (Lk 16:9-13).

And what did they do? How did the religious elite respond?

The Pharisees, who were lovers of money, heard all these things, and they ridiculed Him.

(Luke 16:14a ESV)

They ridiculed Him. Jesus told them the truth about money, but because they were lovers of money, they rolled their eyes (MSG). They scoffed (NAS). They sneered (NIV). They turned up the nose making a hook of it on which to suspend Him as an object of ridicule (WNT). They had chosen a master to serve, and it wasn’t God. And so, they just weren’t prepared to even try to pick up what Jesus was laying down. Unreal!

And in doing so they let others pass by them and storm the gates of the kingdom of God.

“The Law and the Prophets were until John; since then the good news of the kingdom of God is preached, and everyone forces his way into it.” ~ Jesus

(Luke 16:14-16 ESV)

And everyone forces his way into it. That’s what I’m chewing on, this morning.

The kingdom of God isn’t just something we are invited to receive, it’s something we are encouraged to seize. It’s not something we passively permit, it’s a reality that we passionately pursue. God’s grace opens the door, and we take it by force.

The Pharisees were happy with the Law and the Prophets. They had convinced themselves that they were the favored few because they had checked enough of the religiously righteous boxes to have earned their seat at the table. Having done that then, they moved on to more lucrative pursuits, like how to turn their piety into profit. They were satisfied with their delusional sense of having arrived and so weren’t looking for anyplace else to go. And though the Law and the Prophets also spoke of a king and kingdom to come, they really weren’t all that interested.

Oh, but for those who knew their need . . .

For the weary and the weak, for those who had failed and for those who felt worthless, for sinners who knew their need of a Savior, the good news of the kingdom of God was a call to lay hold on eternal life (1Tim. 6:19), to lay hold of the hope that had been set before them (Heb. 6:18), to lay hold of “that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of them” (Php. 3:12). It was a call to arms. A call to storm the gates of the kingdom come.

If Jesus, the Son of God, really was inviting them to “come to Me” (Mt. 11:28), then they were prepared to elbow their way to the front of the line. If Jesus was serious about His call to “abide in Me” (Jn. 15:4), then they were going to do everything in their power to — as close as they could possibly get — lean into Jesus’ bosom (Jn. 13:23 KJV).

Enter the kingdom, He said. And with gusto and fervency they responded, Let us in!

Yeah, I wanna be more like those who force their way in than like the Pharisees who say, “I’ve got enough, I’ll pass.” I really want to avoid settling for just “enough” of the kingdom and somehow being so satisfied with what’s been attained that I stop pressing on “toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Php. 3:12-14).

Storming the gates. Taking the kingdom by force. That’s what I want to do.

Who’s with me?

By His grace. For His glory.

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Financial Advice or Forever Advice?

If Google’s got it right, then 35% of Americans have, to some degree, leveraged a financial adviser. And, for those who haven’t, it’s suggested that many more “would benefit from personalized advice to help them build a strong financial future.” Wealth management — it’s an industry here, one many take for granted. But one which most people in the world have no awareness of and little need for as their biggest concern is not their “strong financial future” but more so for their “daily bread.”

This morning, I’m hovering over a head-scratching story told by Jesus. A story with a clear lesson, but not so clear an application.

It’s the story of an account manager who works for a rich guy. But the manager is not doing a very good job and so, the rich guy gives the shoddy steward his notice. Before his last day, the account manager, not too jazzed by the thought of having to do manual labor or begging to make a day’s wage, comes up with a plan: he calls in some of his boss’s biggest accounts and settles what’s owed at drastically reduced prices. You might say he held a “Fire Sale” before he was fired. Well, you might!

Here’s the twist, the rich guy actually commends the shady steward “for his shrewdness” and for how he set himself up well for an uncertain future. What?!? Yeah, Jesus, in effect, says through the rich guy character, “Well done!” And here’s the lesson Jesus draws from His story:

“The master commended the dishonest manager for his shrewdness. For the sons of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than the sons of light. And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous wealth, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings.” ~ Jesus

(Luke 16:8-9 ESV)

Okay, that last sentence is obviously the lesson of the story. And, at least for a follower of Jesus, it sounds very much like a command to obey. So, what does it mean?

Sounds like some financial advice to me. But it also sounds like some forever advice. Use “unrighteous wealth”, says Jesus, to impact your “eternal dwellings.”

Invest in people who will one day take up residence in “houses of eternity” (Philips). People who will be there to welcome you when you’re ready to move into your “eternal home” (NLT).

Specific applications? Worth noodling on. Bottom line application? Whatever our investment strategies are today, they should ultimately serve towards “laying up treasures” for another day (Mt. 6:20).

To that end, while financial advice might be of some benefit here and now, forever advice is profitable for there and then. And where’s such advice found? In your bibles. In your church. In abiding in Christ. In experiencing the illuminating dynamic of the Spirit in us revealing to us what’s really real. In seeking first the kingdom of God (Mt. 6:33). In knowing that none of us can serve two masters, that we cannot serve God and money (Lk. 16:13). Instead, we serve God alone and faithfully steward whatever resources he’s given us, shrewdly, that we might prepare for a secure future. A future not tethered to this world, but one with eternal dwellings.

Lord, shape my heart to seek, and ready my ears to hear, not just good financial advice, but better yet — oh, so much better — forever advice.

By Your grace. For Your glory.

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The Best Robe (2019 Rerun)

This morning, I’m chewing on the fact that clothes really do make the man or the woman.

Reading Luke 15 this morning, the “Lost and Found” chapter. Sheep’s lost? Go find it (Lk. 15:4). Coin’s lost? Search diligently for it (Lk. 15:8). Son’s lost? Stay home, wait for him to “come to himself” (Lk. 15:13-18).

And, when what is lost is found? Celebrate! (Lk. 15:6-7, 9-10, 23-24).

But what particularly grabbed my attention this morning was “the robe.” Apparently, it caught my attention 5 years ago, as well. Rerunning some thoughts from 2019.


His was a riches to rags story. Having demanded his inheritance early, he blew through his inheritance quickly. Not with investing it for future profit, but instead wasting it on foolhardy pleasures. Soon, rather than living high on the hog as he thought he could, he had to move in with the hogs–something he never imagined he would.

So, I’m guessing that on that day when, in humiliation, he walked back onto the family homestead, there may have been a certain air about him. I’m thinking that feeding pigs–maybe even eating with pigs, will, after a while, rub off on you . . . literally! That eventually, the longer you serve the sty and live in the sty, the more likely you are to smell like the sty.

What’s more, I’m guessing he wasn’t much to look at. No community YMCA for him to take a shower in before he came home. No Goodwill or Salvation Army thrift shops to find some decent clothing to replace the rags he had grown accustomed to wearing. Not much he could do to clean himself up or cover himself up. Instead, he returned to his father “just as I am.”

And in that condition:

. . . his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. . . . the father said to his servants, “Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate.”

(Luke 15:20, 22-23 ESV)

The father would have been justified to stand there and watch as his son crawled toward him on his knees. Instead, the father ran to him.

He could have crossed his arms, leaned back, and determined to wait and see if this apparent show of repentance was real or not. Instead, the father chose to throw his arms around the neck of the prodigal and kiss him.

And then, after receiving back the delinquent, the first thing the father did was something no one expected him to do.  He clothed him.

“Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him.”

The first thing the father did was dress his wayward child in the finest garment found in the house. The item in the father’s closet worn by kings, priests, and people of the highest rank. It replaced the rags. It covered the stench. And it commanded the celebration.

After clothing his son in the garment, what followed just made sense. The ring placed on his hand, the family signet of wealth and dignity. The shoes put on his feet, evidence of the freedom that is due sonship, for only slaves went barefoot. And a feast and celebration second to none! Because that’s what putting on your Sunday Best is for.

It all began with the father’s determination to clothe his returning child with the best robe. Not because the son deserved it, but because the father delighted in it.

And isn’t that also the story of this prodigal? Clothed in the best robe?

I will greatly rejoice in the LORD; my soul shall exult in my God, for He has clothed me with the garments of salvation; He has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself like a priest with a beautiful headdress, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

(Isaiah 61:10 ESV)

When by faith I first came to Him reeking of sin’s stench and wearing the filthy rags of my own “righteous deeds” (Isa. 64:6), after receiving me with compassion, open arms, and heaven’s kiss, the Father clothed me in the best robe, the robe of righteousness. Not my own righteousness, but His Son’s.

For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, He condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.

(Romans 8:3-4 ESV)

For our sake He made Him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.

(2Corinthians 5:21 ESV)

In Christ we are clothed with the robe of righteousness. His righteousness. The righteousness of God. Clothed with the best robe.

And every time I go rogue, as often as I find myself slipping and tripping my way into prodigal propensities, when I come to my senses and return to my Father, without fail He sees again the robe He put on me. He sees me clothed in Christ, His beloved Son. He sees me washed forever in the blood of the Lamb. The stench is gone. The rags replaced. Behold, all things are still new (2Cor. 5:17), and new eternally.

The best robe was the first thing. It is the preeminent thing. The blessing from which all other blessings flow. The undeserved favor upon which all other undeserved favors are given.

I will greatly rejoice in the LORD; my soul shall exult in my God, for He has clothed me with the garments of salvation; He has covered me with the robe of righteousness . . .

By His grace alone.

For His glory alone.

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Loving Him More

They’re jarring. These words create not only a dissonance but also a discomfort. I encounter them and I find myself having to make a call, “Chew on them, or gloss over them.” This morning I’m chewing.

“If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be My disciple.” ~ Jesus

(Luke 14:26 ESV)

Hate . . . My kids weren’t allowed to say that word (nor the “s”-word, shut-up) when they were little. But here Jesus uses the word. And, alongside father and mother.

So, maybe there’s something lost in the translation. So, I look up the original meaning? You guessed it, to hate, to detest. That’s not helpful.

But noodle on it a bit and you know what Jesus DOESN’T MEAN. The law says that we are to honor our father and mother” (Ex. 20:12) — and Jesus didn’t come to dismiss the law, but to fulfill it (Mt. 5:17) — so we know that “honoring” and “hating” must somehow be compatible. I think it gets clearer if you can make your way to the end of the list of things Jesus says His disciples must hate . . . as in, even his own life. Cue the gospel of John:

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves Me, he must follow Me; and where I am, there will My servant be also. If anyone serves Me, the Father will honor him.” ~ Jesus

(John 12:24-26 ESV)

Hating our life in this present world is equated with following Jesus in this present world. Hating our life is juxtaposed with loving Jesus. Hating our life then is about loving our lives less than we love Jesus. About serving the desires of the flesh less than serving the Spirit revealed way of Jesus. If I read to the end of the passage in Luke, Jesus makes it clear Himself.

“So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be My disciple.” ~ Jesus

(Luke 14:33 ESV)

Renouncing all. Saying good-bye to self. Bidding adieu, departing from my desires. That’s what hating everything else is about. It’s not about it being wrong to love anything else, parents and self included, it’s about loving everything else less than loving Jesus. It’s about loving Him more than all other things — parents, family, and self included.

Still jarring. Still a certain discomfort. And still worth chewing on. For, if I’m honest with myself, I know how much my heart seeks to love other things more than Jesus, but I also know how committed Jesus is to renewing and refocusing my heart.

Lord, I want to decrease, even as You increase (Jn. 3:30). I want to put to death “the deeds of the body” (Rom. 8:12-14). I want You, in all things, to be preeminent (Col. 1:18).

I want, but Lord You know my weakness.

Be my strength, Lord. For it is no longer just me who’s trying to love You more, but we (Gal. 2:20).

By Your grace. For Your glory.

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