The Place of Full Assurance

He prayed for his church. Not the church’s programs, but the church’s people.

And he didn’t just pray for them, he “struggled” in pray on their behalf. He “labored fervently”, he prayed “tirelessly”, he “wrestled” incessantly, he “contended” earnestly. And what did he pray for? Full assurance.

Epaphras, who is one of you, a servant of Christ Jesus, greets you, always struggling on your behalf in his prayers, that you may stand mature and fully assured in all the will of God.

(Colossians 4:12 ESV)

What are the things we aspire to for our church (not our programs, but our people)? What’s “success” look like to us? What’s the thing that if we were to labor in prayer for anything we would certainly labor in prayer for this thing, or things? Is spiritual maturity and full assurance the first things that come to mind? Would it even make the list? Thinking it should . . .

Asked differently, what’s a “thriving” church look like? Is it to be measured, as some cynically put it, by butts, bucks, and buildings? Is it about how many attend, how much is given, and how big we can become? Is that what we should be praying for? Thinking not . . .

Standing mature. Fully assured in all the will of God. How’s that for top billing on our pray-for-one-another prayer list? If these would mark our churches, wouldn’t everything else flow from them?

If we were grown up in what we believed, then we’d be grown up in how we behaved. Right doctrine would, by the Spirit, be sourcing right decisions. We’d walk in “a manner worthy” because we would know — like really know — in Whom we have believed. Paul was all about wanting those he led to Jesus growing up in Jesus (Eph. 4:15). And growing up would seem to be integrally tied to being “fully assured.”

“Brought to the place of full assurance in everything willed by God.” That’s how Wuest renders it in his literal translation of the New Testament. Not just knowing stuff in the bible, but really believing that stuff. More than just being familiar with biblical truth, staking our lives — both now and forever more — on that truth. More than just being saved by the gospel, wanting to be totally sold on the gospel.

Fully persuaded that when Jesus said, “It is finished” (Jn. 19:30) that it was finished indeed. The price for my sin — all my sin — paid in full. Period. Full stop. No work able to add to the saving work of the cross.

Fully convinced that if the Son has set us free, then we are free indeed (Jn. 8:36). The penalty of sin not only paid, but the bondage of sin also broken (Rom. 6:6). Period. Full stop. We really are new creations in Christ, old things really have passed away and all things, really, really, really, are new (2Cor. 5:17).

Fully aware that we wake up every morning with the remnant of the old man at war with the work-in-progress new man, the desires of the flesh in opposition to the transforming work of the Spirit (Gal. 5:17). Period. Full stop. Humbled by knowing that we are still far more sinful than we care to admit.

Fully believing that where sin abounds, grace does more abound (Rom. 5:20) and that “there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1) Period. Full stop. That God’s steadfast love towards us is far greater than we can imagine.

Fully anticipating that what began as a work of the Spirit in our lives by faith, will be brought to perfect completion through the work of the Spirit in our lives by faith (Gal. 3:2-3). Period. Full stop. That this is the way of sanctification, and that the work which God begun in us He will ” bring to completion at the day of Jesus Christ (Php. 1:6). Period. Full stop.

Absolutely confident that there will, in fact, be a “day of Jesus Christ.” Unwavering in our contention that when Jesus says, “Behold, I am coming soon” (Rev. 22:7, 12) then, behold, He is coming soon. Period. Full stop.

Fully assured. Standing mature.

O Lord, bring us to the place of full assurance.

Only by Your grace. To You be the glory.

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Who Am I? Who Are We? Who Is He?

I encounter David’s question twice a year in my reading plan. First in May, as it’s recorded in 2Samuel 7, then in July, where it’s recorded again in 1Chronicles. It’s David’s question, but I own it as my own.

David, wanting to build a house for the LORD, wanting to provide a space for the glory of God to dwell — a permanent home rather than a transient tent — is told instead by the prophet, Nathan, “the LORD will build you a house” (17:10). While David had in his heart a magnificent cathedral of cedar and gold for His God, His God had in mind a forever throne for David. To which David quiets his soul and ponders, “Who am I?”

Then King David went in and sat before the LORD and said, “Who am I, O LORD God, and what is my house, that You have brought me thus far?”

(1Chronicles 17:16 ESV)

Who am I? It’s a reflect and remember sort of question. It’s an awe and wonder sort of question. And even though it’s a “me” question, it really is a “be still and know that I am God” (Ps. 46:10) question?

O, the unfathomable depths of God’s grace. The inscrutability of God’s purposes. The incorruptible and unfailing reality of God’s promises. Who am I?

And, as David chews on God’s unmerited favor towards him, he expands his meditation to consider his community.

“And who is like Your people Israel, the one nation on earth whom God went to redeem to be His people, making for Yourself a name for great and awesome things, in driving out nations before Your people whom You redeemed from Egypt? And You made Your people Israel to be Your people forever, and You, O LORD, became their God.”

(1Chronicles 17:21-22 ESV)

Who is like Your people? Redeemed from bondage. Redeemed of God. Redeemed to be His people forever.

A motley crew. A whiny lot. Prone to wander. Slow to sanctification. Yet, redeemed forever, so that God might make for Himself “a name for great and awesome things.” Who are we?

Then, noodle long enough on “Who am I?” and “Who are we?”, and you can’t help but eventually ask, “Who is He?”

“There is none like You, O LORD, and there is no God besides You, according to all that we have heard with our ears.”

(1Chronicles 17:20 ESV)

There is no God like our God. There is no favor like His favor. No patience like His patience. No steadfast love like His unfailing love.

Who am I? I am a trophy of God’s grace solely because of God’s sovereign determination to enter into covenant relationship with me. Counted as holy and credited with Christ’s righteousness. Being conformed to the image of Jesus, transformed into holiness, by the regenerating work of the Spirit.

Who are we? We are a special people, redeemed through the shed blood of the Son. We are a holy temple where the glory of the living God is in the midst through the Spirit (Eph. 2:21-22). We are a sanctified bride in the making, one day to be presented to Him “in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish” (Eph. 5:27).

Who is He? He is God and God alone.

His grace all sufficient to complete the saving work begun in us. Our salvation the source of eternal glory for Him.

Amen?

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Invoke

I don’t know that coming upon this gem hidden within 1 Chronicles surprised me any less this year than last. Or this year than 10 years ago. Even though I have encountered it annually for the past 15 years or so, I never really expect it or anticipate it (like I do Psalm 119 or Romans 8, for example). After wading through a sea of genealogy, I’m glad to get into the more narrative portion of 1 Chronicles, but I always forget about this “psalm” portion. Cue 1 Chronicles chapter 16, verses 8 through 36.

In my ESV, it’s titled David’s Song of Thanks. And as I read it this morning I wonder if part of its purpose is to be an example of what thanksgiving should look like. Just as The Lord’s Prayer models for me what prayer should look like, I kind of feel like David’s Song of Thanks may be there to model for me what praise should look like.

But as enraptured as I am with the song, it’s the pre-song preparation that’s given me something to chew on.

David has taken a second shot at moving the ark into Jerusalem. The first time was deadly — literally (1Chron. 13). This time, instead of winging it and doing it his way, David ensures it’s done . . . how shall we say? . . . the RIGHT WAY! No one but the Levites were to carry the ark of the God, and this time, no one does. And so, amidst joyous celebration, the place where the glory dwells is carried into Jerusalem by the Levites and set inside the tent that David had pitched for it (1Chron. 15:1-16:1).

And where the glory settles, thanksgiving should be sung.

Then [David] appointed some of the Levites as ministers before the ark of the LORD, to invoke, to thank, and to praise the LORD, the God of Israel. . . . Then on that day David first appointed that thanksgiving be sung to the LORD by Asaph and his brothers.

(1Chronicles 16:4, 7 ESV)

This is when David “first appointed” worship in song. Makes sense then that he might want to provide a model for what such a song might look like. But what I’m chewing on is what seems to be presented as the underling dynamic for such a song: Invoke . . . Thank . . . Praise.

Thanksgiving I’m familiar with. Praise has been a pretty common practice since my earliest days of being a Christ-follower. But invoke? Hmm . . . one of these things doesn’t seem like the others. Will need to noodle on it a bit.

Invoke. At first read, I think that this perhaps refers to invoking the name of the Lord, as in calling upon His name. Could be. Invoke the LORD . . .Thank the LORD . . . Praise the LORD. That works.

But I look up the meaning of the original word behind the English word and it opens up another possibility. To cause to remember. To bring to remembrance. Thus, if that’s how the word might be understand, before you can thank God or praise God you need to invoke the memory of God.

Before the heart is engaged in real worship, I’m wondering if the mind first needs first to be engaged in meaningful remembrance. What we know about God needs to inform what we declare about God. Authentic thanksgiving needs to be grounded in an authentic understanding of His mighty and merciful works. When not grounded in and sourced from an appreciation of who God is and what God has done, praise, just like prayer, can be but “empty phrases” (Matt. 6:7). Thus, substance should be behind our singing.

Invoke, says David. Engage the mind. Recall specific works. Meditate on particular, awesome wonders. Bring to mind, again and again, His forever, precious promises.

Then give thanks. Then freely offer the “sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge His name” (Heb. 13:15). Then sing along with David through the rest of 1 Chronicles 16.

Invoke the memory. Then worship His majesty.

Only by His grace. Only for His glory.

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Forgiven Much

You probably couldn’t have orchestrated a more stark contrast. A Pharisee, a he, and a sinner, a she, with Jesus in their midst.

He had no water for Jesus’ feet, though custom would have dictated that would have been the respectful thing to do. She, on the other hand, wet the feet of Jesus with her tears and wiped them with her hair — kind of an outrageous thing to do. He had no welcoming kiss on the cheek for Jesus, but she would not stop kissing Him, though still at His feet. He made no effort to minister to Jesus, offered no oil for His head. She broke open an alabaster flask of ointment and humbly poured it out. Guess where? Yeah, she is still bowed at the feet of Jesus.

In essence, the Pharisee met the Messiah with, “Meh! No big deal.” The sinner however, though her behavior would have been considered “over the top” by many, could not adequately express her adoration for this Friend of sinners.

And what I’m chewing on this morning is Jesus’ diagnosis of the dynamic at play.

And Jesus answering said to [the Pharisee], “Simon, I have something to say to you.” And he answered, “Say it, Teacher.”

“A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he cancelled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?” Simon answered, “The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt.” And He said to him, “You have judged rightly.” . . . .”Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven— for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.”

(Luke 7:40-43, 47 ESV)

Pretty clear cause and effect diagnosis by Jesus. Forgiven much? You’re gonna love much in return. Not so much? Not so much love in return. And it occurs to me that how we determine “much” is kind of important.

If Simon, the upstanding Pharisee, a pillar in his community, is comparing himself to this woman, a no name known only as a “sinner”, then maybe compared to her “much” sin, his sin isn’t so much. But what if Simon could have grasped standing before the Holy, Holy, Holy God? Then how much would he recognize his need for forgiveness? Pretty much!

And it brings to mind something else that Jesus said.

“And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold.”

(Matthew 24:12 ESV)

In context, I think Jesus is saying that generally in the world the inclination to love will “wax cold” (KJV) because of the “overwhelming spread of evil” (MSG). Increased wickedness is going to lead to decreased affection.

But I’m wondering this morning if, as the world gets worse, we followers of Jesus might be tempted to count ourselves better in comparison and thus run the danger of starting to think, “I didn’t really need to be forgiven much.” And if that starts happening, if we start seeing the debt erased for us as somehow lesser than the debt others need erased, might we be in danger of “loving little”, or at least loving less, because we think we’ve been forgiven less? I’m thinkin’ . . .

Or, what if we fail to recognize that each day we’re still, in a sense, accruing debt as the flesh wins over the Spirit way too often? While we may not view that debt being “as great” as the debt being accrued by the sinners around us, if we fail to recognize the daily “wages of sin” we’re earning — thus failing to confess our sins, thus failing to recognize how much we continue to be forgiven — then what happens to our love for the Savior? Is it possible that the love which once burned intensely, as it was fueled by our daily awareness of our own desperate condition, is now but a flickering flame because, hey, compared to the world around us, we’re looking pretty good?

Yeah, it’s possible. Jesus said so.

“I know you are enduring patiently and bearing up for my name’s sake, and you have not grown weary. But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first.” ~ Jesus

(Revelation 2:3-4 ESV)

Loving much, or loving little? Forgiven much, or forgiven little? Being forgiven much, or being forgiven little?

Worth chewing on I think . . . especially amidst a world that might make us think we’re better than we really are and His grace is less needed than it really is.

Forgiven much and being forgiven much. By His grace.

O’ that I would love much and grow to love much more. For His glory.

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What the Poor Need

Okay kids, let’s start with a fill-in-the-blanks exercise. I’ll do the first one to get you started.

To be healed . . .

The blind need to ….SEE…
The lame need to ……………..
Lepers need to be ………………
The deaf need to ………………
The dead need to ………………
The poor need to ………………

What did you come up with? I would have come up with: walk; be clean; hear; live; have money. But I would have been wrong.

Context: In Luke 7, John the Baptizer is in prison and given how well his “prepare the way for the Lord” ministry is going (not), he sends a couple of his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the guy?”

So, the disciples go to Jesus and ask Him, “Are you the guy?” And as they wait for an answer, they watch Him “heal many people of diseases and plagues and evil spirits, and on many who were blind He bestowed sight” (Luke 7:20-21). Jesus then pauses. He turns to the two inquirers sent by John (who I am guessing are trying to pick their jaws up off the floor after seeing Jesus in action) and takes His cut at answering my fill-in-the-blank quiz.

And [Jesus] answered them, “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by Me.”

(Luke 7:22-23 ESV)

Okay, imagine being the poor and destitute dude standing at the end of the healing line? The blind guy at the front of the line goes up to Jesus and all of a sudden, he can see. The lame lady then hobbles up to Him and next thing you know she’s doing cartwheels out the door. The leper’s next — scabs and sores be gone; his skin is suddenly spotless! And you’re getting closer to the front of the line.

You almost yawn with an “I saw that coming” yawn when the deaf guy then starts parroting back everything he now hears being said around him. And then, you’re really intrigued by the corpse on the cot being carried by his friends up to the One claiming to be the promised Messiah — and sure enough, the dead are raised up!

Okay, now it’s your turn. Poverty’s been your middle name for as long as you can remember. No education. No skills. Nothing in the bank account and no way of changing that. So, what are you expecting when you stand before Jesus? Reversing your fortunes (pun intended) seems pretty straight forward, doesn’t it?

. . . the poor have good news preached to them.

Chew on that for a bit.

Those overlooked in the world were being freely shown the keys to the kingdom of another world, just as had been prophesied of the Messiah’s ministry (Isa. 61:1-3). Those with no earthly resources were being invited to take hold of heavenly treasure. Their physical poverty was but a merciful, divine object lesson pointing to their abject spiritual poverty. If that guy in line could see his need, then he was primed for such an epic healing that everything that had gone before him would pale in comparison. For all the healings he had seen — the sight, the wholeness, the cleanness, the hearing, the newness of life — would be his and more. The poor need good news. And the gospel of Jesus has plenty of that.

Oh, that we would see our poverty. For, how blessed are the poor? Pretty blessed.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” ~ Jesus

(Matthew 5:3 ESV)

Noodle on that a little while longer.

Be healed by His grace. Be healed for His glory.

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On Our Side

I’m in the camp of those who feel like polarization within our culture is something to be greatly concerned about. (Isn’t that in and of itself a polarizing statement if it puts you in a camp?)

Seems like our cultural moment is overshadowed with the view that everyone needs to take a side. To be for or against. To be in or out. To align on all points or not be aligned at all. Common ground, it seems, is not only ignored but actually eschewed — for then we might admit that our side isn’t unequivocally the right side. It’s enough to make one weary. To make one whisper to themselves, “Can’t we just all be on the same side?”

But this morning, I’m chewing on something in Psalm 124 that reminds me that God has picked a side.

If it had not been the LORD who was on our side
let Israel now say—
if it had not been the LORD who was on our side
when people rose up against us,
then they would have swallowed us up alive,
when their anger was kindled against us;
then the flood would have swept us away,
the torrent would have gone over us;
then over us would have gone
the raging waters.
. . .
Our help is in the name of the LORD,
who made heaven and earth.

(Psalm 124:1-5, 8 ESV)

On our side . . . On our side. O, blessed, holy repetition!

There would be no song of ascents, no songwriter, no singer, nothing to sing about, nothing to look forward to, no place to sojourn to, if God’s people could not have said, If it had not been the LORD who was on our side.

God has chosen a side, the side of a people He has chosen and redeemed for Himself. Not a people who merit having God on their side, but a people who have found mercy and grace through the pierced side of Jesus and His finished work on Calvary’s cross. Not a people who warrant God in their camp, but a people who have been called outside of whatever camp they may have once been part of, leaving the camp to follow Jesus, to bear His reproach, even as they seek a new city (Heb. 13:13-14).

God is on our side. God is for us.

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?

(Romans 8:31 ESV)

That doesn’t necessarily mean life is gonna get easier, but it does mean it is always doable.

In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

(John 16:33b ESV)

Praise God He’s picked a side . . . our side!

. . . for He has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” So we can confidently say, “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?”

(Hebrews 13:5b-6 ESV)

On our side , on our side . . .

Okay, maybe I am for a bit of polarization.

By His grace. For His glory.

Time for some vintage southern gospel . . . “If It Had Not Been”

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The Same Mind

They were a big deal, so IT was a big deal.

Don’t know how many people assembled at the church in Philippi, but you sense they all knew who these two ladies were. Euodia and Syntche — “Fragrant” and “By Chance.” Not only were they members of the church, but you sense they were also movers and shakers in the church. Along with other notables from the body, they had “labored side by side” with the apostle Paul in the work of the gospel (Php. 4:3). Did you get that? “Side by side!” With the apostle Paul! They were in to win. They were making a difference. They were kind of a big deal.

So, the fact that there was obvious conflict between the two of them was also a big deal. So big a deal that it has Paul not only calling them out through the public reading of his letter, but also publicly pleading with them.

I entreat Euodia and I entreat Syntyche to agree in the Lord.

(Philippians 4:2 ESV)

Agree in the Lord . . . that’s what I’m chewing on this morning.

I’m pretty sure we’re not talking core doctrinal issues here, otherwise Paul would have been correcting in the Lord rather than pleading with these sisters about agreeing in the Lord. I’m also guessing that neither was it trivial matters which were in dispute as there’s the sense that the character of these ladies was above majoring on minors.

Whatever the disagreement, I’m thinking it was the type of differences coworkers with Paul and co-laborers in the gospel might have when it comes to philosophy of ministry, approach to ministry, or priorities in ministry. Paul knew himself how such disputes might arise. He had personal experience with such things. In fact, I wonder if as he penned these words he might not have been thinking back on a time when he could have been writing these words to himself and Barnabas (Acts 15:36-41).

Whatever the conflict, Paul goes public, enlisting others in the church to get involved, draw alongside, and help as necessary as he exhorts these faithful servants to agree in the Lord (Php. 4:3).

Literally, he begs them to be of the same mind or to think the same thing. And I don’t think he’s wanting from them uniformity of opinion so much as he’s contending for unity in operation. Thus, I don’t think he wants them to have the same mind as each other, but “in the Lord” I’m thinking he wants these loyal ladies to have the same as Christ. And what does the mind of Christ look like?

So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus.

(Philippians 2:1-5 ESV)

Agree in the Lord. Be likeminded with putting on a mind like Christ’s mind.

Check for selfish ambition. Any politicking going on? Any electioneering? Partisanship at play? Any willingness to fracture for the sake of “being right”? Any hint of any of that? Then, get rid of it. It’s not the same mind as Christ’s mind.

What about ego, is that in play? Is the need to prevail tied to personal esteem or sense of worth? Needs to be jettisoned. Not the same mind as Christ’s mind.

Instead, being of the same mind with others begins with thinking about others. Thinking of others as better than yourself. Considering others’ interests and not just your own agenda. Emptying yourself, as Jesus did (Php. 2:6-7), for the sake of others. If both sisters were to do that, then the mind they’d end up with would be the same mind, the mind of Christ.

Doable in the flesh? Uh . . . I don’t think so. That’s why Paul says it going to need participation in the Spirit.

But profitable for the church? Helpful for the gospel? Yeah, in a big way!

Agree in the Lord . . .

Have the same mind.

Only by His grace. Always for His glory.

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The Sound of His Voice

It’s not the first time I’ve been struck by the dissonance created by the last verse of Psalm 119. Not the first time I’ve taken a few minutes to process what I’m chewing on by typing a few words into my journal — this post will be the 8th time in the past 13 years. After 175 verses of declaring in different ways his love for the word of God, his thirst for the word of God, and his desire to be entirely submitted to the word of God, the songwriter talks about bailing on the word of God.

I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek Your servant,
for I do not forget Your commandments.

(Psalm 119:176 ESV)

I’ve gone astray . . .

I’ve erred. I’ve wandered off. I’ve drifted. Even though Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path, I’ve deviated.

Funny way to end an ode to the glories of God’s precepts (funny weird, not funny ha-ha). Having found an anchor for the soul, who sings about losing track of it, of letting go of it? The psalmist, apparently. And this guy relatably.

The songwriter is just keeping it real. It’s why he begins the 22nd stanza of his opus to God’s testimonies and promises the way he does.

Let my cry come before You, O LORD;
give me understanding according to Your word!
Let my plea come before You;
deliver me according to Your word.
. . .
Let Your hand be ready to help me,
for I have chosen Your precepts.

(Psalm 119:169-170, 173 ESV)

I’ve gone astray, give me understanding. I’ve wandered off, deliver me. I’m drifting, be ready to help me. Yeah, help! I need somebody . . . not just anybody. Lord, I need You!

Like I said, keeping it real.

But this morning as I chew on my propensity to be of the order of the ovine, it’s Peterson’s rendering of the verse that sparks within this wanderer a bit of wonder. Though I may tend to go astray, the reminder of God’s willingness to leave the ninety-nine to seek out the one (again and again and again), invokes awe.

And should I wander off like a lost sheep—seek me!
I’ll recognize the sound of Your voice.

(Psalm 119:176 MSG)

Yeah, that’s why I love the Word. That’s why I want to store it in my head and in my heart. For in it — by pursuing it — I learn to recognize the sound of His voice.

For I need to recognize that voice when it calls, “Where are you?”, after I’ve disobeyed, scurried off, and tried to hide (Gen. 3:9). Or, when I’ve blown it for the umpteenth time, again! . . . I want to be able to pick up on the muffled whisper coming from the other side of the door of my heart saying, “Hey, it’s Me knocking. Hear my voice and open the door. I want to come in and eat with you, and you with Me” (Rev. 3:20). And when I’ve sojourned into a place of self-sufficiency and have pretty much run my tank dry, I want to be able to be arrested by the sound of familiar words speaking into my weariness, “Come to Me. Quit trying to do it all on your own. I’ll give you rest. Take My yoke upon you. Learn from Me. Know that I am gentle and lowly in heart. Find rest for your soul. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light” (Matt. 11:28-30).

Prone to wander, Lord. I feel it. But seek me. Please, don’t stop seeking me!

I’ll recognize the sound of Your voice.

By Your grace. For Your glory.

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His Own (2015 Rerun)

Christ has made me His own”

Read those six words this morning and decided that rather than try and write on them, I’d just rest in them. Meditate on them. Marinate in them. Letting what is unbelievably true sink deeply in even as thankfulness and worship flow freely out.


The people of God are referred to in many ways in the Scriptures. We are saints, and we are His disciples. We are sheep, and we comprise His body. We are family, and we are also His bride. And this morning, reading in Philippians, I’m reminded we are also “His own.”

Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me His own.

(Philippians 3:12 ESV)

Paul did what He did, not to merit favor but in response to grace. He did not consider himself as having arrived, but instead pressed on to achieve the prize. He ran the race not that men might look at him and praise him, but because he looked to Christ and sought Christ’s glory alone. And He did this, because Christ Jesus had made Paul His own.

Other translations say that Paul was “laid hold of” by Christ. I like the sound of the old King James where it’s translated that Paul followed hard after Christ so “that I may apprehend that for which also I am apprehended of Christ Jesus.”

Apprehended by Christ Jesus. Seized upon by the promised Messiah. Taken possession of by the King of heaven. That’s the state of every believer before ever having a thought of taking hold of Him.

The people of God are His own. That’s just who we are. Not that we deserved it, or earned it, or could ever, on our own, claim it as ours. But it’s just who we are because of what God has determined and because of what Christ has done.

We have been bought with a price, and we are not our own (1Cor 6:19). He gave Himself to redeem us and “to purify for Himself a people for His own possession” (Titus 2:14). He sought us when we were lost. He loved us when we were at war with Him. He gave all when we had nothing to give in return. And all that He might seize us to Himself. All that He might apprehend us to be a people for His sole possession. All that we might be called His own.

His own. No boasting in wearing the banner, for He claimed me long before I knew Him. No self-righteousness in taking the title, for I am only His because of the righteousness credited to my account on His behalf. No sitting back thinking that now that I am His I have somehow reached the finish line, but instead, like Paul, pressing on toward the prize that I might, through the Spirit indwelling me, make it my own. Counting all things loss and leaving all things behind for the “surpassing worth of knowing” Him who has made me His own.

His own. That’s me. Such are the people of God. O blessed thought.

By grace alone . . . for His glory alone.

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The High Places

It’s a bit like watching a ping pong match — keep at it and it can put a crick in your neck. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth — if you’re at all engaged with the text, that’s what reading in 2Kings is kind of like.

King of Israel? “He did what was evil in the sight of the LORD.” King of Judah? “He did what was right in the eyes of the LORD.” Read your way through the throne successions of the northern and southern kingdoms and that, with a few exceptions on the Judah side, is the pattern. One set of monarchs consistently cast as doing evil, one set of monarch, for the most part, doing what is right.

But as I read this morning of the beginning of Israel’s end, as people are carried captive into Assyria (2Ki. 15:29), it occurs to me that what will soon befall Israel, Assyrian dominance, will also eventually be Judah’s lot, Babylonian captivity. So, for all the back and forth of the royal ping pong match, how come no one comes out a winner? More to the point, how come there wasn’t a right outcome for the kings who did what was “right in the eyes of the LORD”? Short answer, I think; Because of the high places.

In the second year of Pekah the son of Remaliah, king of Israel, Jotham the son of Uzziah, king of Judah, began to reign. He was twenty-five years old when he began to reign, and he reigned sixteen years in Jerusalem. His mother’s name was Jerusha the daughter of Zadok. And he did what was right in the eyes of the LORD, according to all that his father Uzziah had done. Nevertheless, the high places were not removed. The people still sacrificed and made offerings on the high places.

(2Kings 15:32-35a ESV)

Nevertheless, the high places were not removed. That is the foreboding bell’s toll concerning the spiritual health of Judah. The kings did what was right, but the high places were not removed. The kings lived in Jerusalem, so it was easy to worship in Jerusalem. The temple was in their backyard, so sacrificing in the place where the LORD told His people to sacrifice was convenient for them. But the pseudo-altars or worship; the fake altars of worship; the convenient altars of worship; what had become for many the traditional and common altars of worship, they were not removed. While the king drew near to where God said his glory would reside, the populace worshiped in vain, their religious actions accompanied by cold hearts with little desire to seek the glory of God’s presence.

The king — regardless of the example he set or the reforms he tried to enact — couldn’t make the difference as long as the high places were not removed and the people’s hearts were not drawn near.

We can go through the motions, but if those motions are on the high places of self-serving, personally convenient, everybody-else-is doing-it this way worship, then distant hearts will become cold hearts. And cold hearts run the risk of eventually being taken captive by the world and assimilated into its ways.

Oh, for wisdom to recognize the high places in our worship. Oh, for courage to go against the flow and repent and return to the ways God has commanded for offerings and sacrifice. Oh, for a thirst for His presence as the only place where we’ll offer our gifts.

By His grace. For His glory.

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