The Keeping Keeps Keeping On

Last Friday I reran a post from 2020 on the thought of being a “kept man.” This morning, as I finish up in Jude, the keeping keeps keeping on.

Jude would have liked to have written to those “called, beloved in God the Father and kept for Jesus Christ” (1:2) about their “common salvation” (1:3). Yet, among those who were “kept” had come those who had “crept” — ungodly people who perverted the grace of God (1:4). Thus, among the believers there were some pretty questionable behaviors.

Yeah, there it was . . . among the believers. In the church. The way of Cain, the error of Balaam, and the rebellion of Korah (1:11). Hidden reefs, waterless clouds, fruitless trees, wild waves, wandering stars (1:12). All within the church. Talk about your tares among the wheat (Mt. 13:36-43)!

And within that context, for the kept the keeping keeps keeping on.

But you, beloved, build yourselves up in your most holy faith; pray in the Holy Spirit; keep yourselves in the love of God, waiting for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life. . . .

Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen.

(Jude 1:20-21, 24-25 ESV)

Keep yourselves. God, our Savior, is able to keep you.

Guard yourself. He will guard you.

Watch yourself. He will keep watch over you.

Attend carefully to your steps with Jesus. He will attend carefully ensuring you stand firm in Jesus.

Me and He. That’s how the keeping keeps keeping on.

Though with flaky flesh without, and despite an obstinate old man within, I purpose with holy determination to pursue the kingdom in the King’s way by the King’s power. I keep myself in the love of God. But thank God it’s not left entirely to me.

For God, with steadfast love, new mercies every morning, and grace abounding also keeps an on me and is able to keep me from stumbling. Able to finish the work He begun in me (Php. 1:6). Able to present me to Himself as part of His glorious church “not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing, but that she should be holy and without blemish” (Eph. 5:27).

I head into the day mindful of keeping myself. I head into the day confident of His ability to keep me until the day I see my Savior face to face. I head into the day resting in the reality that it’s not just up to me, but up to “we” . . . for it’s “no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Gal. 2:20). So, we will keep the keeping keeping on.

By His grace. For His glory.

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A Kept Man (2020 Rerun)

Okay . . . honestly I’m a little unsure about that title. While it’s catchy and perhaps an appropriate play on words given what I’m chewing on this morning, the cultural idea of being “kept” is kind of shady. A “kept woman”, or “kept man” for that matter, is someone granted a certain lifestyle in exchange for certain “favors.” But the word “kept” is the word that’s in my Bible. And, not just in my ESV translation, but in every translation I referenced other than the KJV where it’s translated “preserved.” So, call me a bit of a risk taker, but I’m staying with the title, . . . and the thought, . . . and, I submit, with biblical language. This morning I’m noodling on the blessing of being a kept man.

Jude, a servant of Jesus Christ and brother of James,
To those who are called, beloved in God the Father and kept for Jesus Christ:
May mercy, peace, and love be multiplied to you.

(Jude 1-2 ESV)

Sometimes, when overwhelmed by the way things are, it’s prudent to pause, be still, and remember who you are. And this morning I’m taking such a pause, reflecting on the declaration of God’s word that I am called, beloved, and kept.

Called. Chosen in God the Son “before the foundation of the world”, that I “should be holy and blameless” before God the Father (Eph. 1:3-4). Not because of anything I would ever be and despite everything I would eventually do. But just because God, in His Sovereign purposes, determined to move in this sinner’s hard heart and redeem him through overflowing grace. Pause. Reflect. Worship.

Beloved in God the Father. Loved to the uttermost by the Creator. Sacrificially loved, as the Father sent His one and only Son to earth as a Lamb. A Lamb offered up once for all in payment for the debt of sin I could never pay. Wholly loved, as my rescue came also with an adoption, being made more than just a freed slave from sin, but brought into His house as a child of God and a joint heir with Christ. Patiently loved, as I stumble through the work He has begun in me, being transformed increasingly into the likeness of the Son while I battle daily with the flesh. A slow process to be sure. But the love of God has determined that I should be a child of God and so I am, and so shall I be.

Called. Beloved. But it’s the thought of being kept that so captures this sinner’s saved heart.

Depending on the translation you’re reading, those who are called and beloved are either kept for Jesus Christ or kept by Jesus Christ. Both are true. But while the idea that I am being preserved by Christ evokes thanksgiving, to think that such divine effort would be made to carefully guard the new life I’ve been given for Christ lights up the awe-o-meter.

Mercy would rescue me and ensure my passage to a promised land. But it’s a love that I can’t fathom which would have a God who is all-sufficient in Himself desire me for Himself.

“Father, I desire that they also, whom You have given Me, may be with Me where I am, to see My glory that You have given Me because You loved Me before the foundation of the world.” ~ Jesus

(John 17:24 ESV)

Kept for Jesus. That having been given to Him we would one day be with Him. Not that He needs us, but that He wants us. Not that we deserve Him, but that He desires us. Trophies of grace for His glory. Children through adoption for His delight.

I’m a kept man. Kept by Jesus. Kept for Jesus.

Kept in His steadfast, unfailing love. Kept by the Spirit, the power of God and the seal guaranteeing the promise.

Kept by His grace. Kept for His glory.

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The God Who Dwells with Flesh

For those who partake of my morning meal regularly, you’re probably thinking I’ve been fasting lately. Not many meals shared over the last couple of weeks. Alas, life with two little boys in the house has been busier than usual lately and they too, apparently, are becoming, more and more, morning people. Thus, finding the time to type a few words after reading in the morning has been hard. So thankful that, for this morning at least, I get a few minutes to chew on some things.

A double reading in my reading plan this morning, so I covered the reign of Nebuchadnezzar according to Daniel (Daniel 1 thru 4) — a reign marked by bad dreams but some pretty good revelation. Lessons learned that would serve this pagan king well forever . . . and I do think “forever!”

Bad Dream No. 1 sets the stage for Nebuchadnezzar to encounter the God unlike any other god he had been familiar with or worshiped before — the God whose dwelling IS with flesh.

Then the king commanded that the magicians, the enchanters, the sorcerers, and the Chaldeans be summoned to tell the king his dreams. . . . The king answered and said to the Chaldeans, “The word from me is firm: if you do not make known to me the dream and its interpretation, you shall be torn limb from limb, and your houses shall be laid in ruins. . . . Therefore show me the dream and its interpretation.” . . . The Chaldeans answered the king and said, “There is not a man on earth who can meet the king’s demand, for no great and powerful king has asked such a thing of any magician or enchanter or Chaldean. The thing that the king asks is difficult, and no one can show it to the king except the gods, whose dwelling is not with flesh.”

(Daniel 2:2a, 5, 6b, 10-11 ESV)

The gods whose dwelling is not with flesh . . . that’s the phrase the popped.

Over the years, Nebuchadnezzar would, because of divine insomnia, come to know and worship Daniel’s God — the God and King of heaven (Dan. 2:18, 19, 37, 44; 4:37). And that because Daniel’s God, unlike the many gods of Babylon, had determined to dwell with flesh.

Until the exiles of Judah came into their midst, the gods of Babylon were, at best, the distant gods of nature — gods who were perceptible but not present. At worst, they were inert, unpredictable gods of wood and precious metal fashioned at the hands of every day, run of the mill craftsmen. Either way, they were unknowable gods to be feared and appeased and coerced into showing them favor, not a God of fellowship and adoration making Himself known in order to communicate His favor. So, when Nebuchadnezzar insists on being told only what the gods themselves could know, his wise men wisely say, “No way. That would take the gods. And those gods are not willing to dwell with flesh.”

Though they were charlatans for the most part, Nebuchadnezzar’s cohort were speaking truth in this instance — no one can reveal the mysteries birthed in heaven except the God of heaven, and only then if He purposes to be a God willing to touch down on earth. That’s what Daniel & Co. had brought with them. As pieces of the temple were transported into Babylon, as people faithful to the temple were assimilated into Babylonian culture, the God who had determined to be in the midst of His people had been imported too. The God who so loved the world had purposed to make known that love by being a God who would come into the Babylonian world — a God whose dwelling IS with flesh.

Cue Jesus.

Trigger thoughts of “Immanuel (which means, God with us)” (Matt. 1:23).

Ignite fresh wonder at a God of mysteries who has condescended to reveal mysteries to those who bear His image (Dan. 2:28), and to do so by being a God who would empty Himself (Php. 2:5-7) in order to come into our space and dwell among us (Jn. 1:14). To speak to us in these last days, and that by His Son (Heb. 1:2).

Worship the God of heaven, the God who dwells with flesh. By His Spirit. Through His Son.

O, what a Savior!

What grace!

Worthy is He to receive glory!

Amen?

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Seeing the Glory of God

Met with a friend yesterday, her world kind of rocked by the election results last week. For her, character mattered — like really mattered! And so, it’s taking a bit for her to work through how character seemingly didn’t matter to others, especially those of the household of faith. As coffee conversations tend to go, we rambled down a few streams of consciousness talking about various ways one can find themselves misaligned with others born again of the same Spirit. And at one point, an old saying from a bygone era came to mind:

“To live above, with saints we love; oh, won’t that will be glory?
But to live below, with saints we know; now, that’s a different story!”

Yesterday’s conversation, and that little saying, came to mind as I read a familiar account in John’s gospel this morning.

Jesus is at the tomb of Lazarus. Lazarus, brother of Mary and Martha. Lazarus, whom Jesus loved. Lazarus, who is dead. Lazarus, who is about to be un-dead.

Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to Him, “Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone.

(John 11:39-41a ESV)

Seeing the glory of God . . . that’s what I’m chewing on this morning.

The heavens declare the glory of God (Ps. 19:1). Jesus declares the glory of God (2Cor. 4:6, Heb. 1:3). And Lazarus too, would declare the glory of God. That’s what resurrected people do, evidently. Those who were once dead and then are made alive declare the glory of God. Even the saints we know who live below.

They may have not voted as we voted, may not have weighed the relative merits of character and conviction as we did, may not have walked the talk as we think the talk should have been walked, but if you believed you would see the glory of God. For they, like us, were once dead and then made alive.

And you were dead in the trespasses and sins . . . But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ — by grace you have been saved.

(Ephesians 2:1, 4-5 ESV)

They are the un-dead — those once buried in sin who, by God’s life-giving call and life-giving Spirit, walked out of the tomb’s bondage. Those raised in newness of life as we were. Fellow believers, brothers and sisters, co-heirs with Christ in Christ. And the glory isn’t just in that they have new life, the glory is manifest in the sweet-smelling aroma of grace which envelopes all of us. For, though we may have shed the grave clothes, after how long we’ve been in the tomb of sin and the rot of the flesh, there is still an odor. Yet, if you believed you would see the glory of God.

Oh, to extend to those who the world would tell us are “on the other side” — whether the “winning” side or the “losing” side — but a measure of the abundant, over-flowing grace we’ve known. More than that, though; to see in “the other side” the glory of God. To see the glory of those who were once enemies of God now seeking to live for God — even if we don’t agree on how that exactly plays out when it comes to being salt and light in a democracy. To see the glory of those who were once strangers to the promises of God now reconciled and brought together as “fellow citizens” of the household of God (Eph. 2:12, 19) — even when their choices, to us, still seem kind of strange. To see the glory of fellow exiles. who once called this world their home, faithfully enduring as they sojourn towards a promised land yet to be fully realized. Simply, to see the glory of God in the saints we know, who live below.

And if we did, now, that’s a different story . . . a stark contrast to our culture’s tribal mentality. A light-shedding, life-giving contrast.

By His grace. For His glory.

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Speaking to Mountains

I know I’ve read it before, quite a few times before. But this morning the passage stands out as it never has before.

Whole lot of prophesying going on in Ezekiel. And almost all of it is directed at people. But just “almost all.”

There’s prophecy directed towards a rebellious people and a wayward flock. There’s prophecy directed towards surrounding nations and the pride-driven, blood-shedding rulers over them. Prophecy towards shepherds who shirk their responsibility and priests who profit at the expense of those they were to represent. Even when there’s prophecy to “dry bones” (Ezek. 37) it’s still targeted at bones which again become people as they come alive with flesh and skin restored to them and life-giving breath breathed into them. So, like I said, prophecy is for people . . . mostly.

“And you, son of man, prophesy to the mountains of Israel, and say, O mountains of Israel, hear the word of the LORD. Thus says the Lord GOD: . . . You, O mountains of Israel, shall shoot forth your branches and yield your fruit to my people Israel, for they will soon come home. For behold, I am for you, and I will turn to you, and you shall be tilled and sown. And I will multiply people on you, the whole house of Israel, all of it. The cities shall be inhabited and the waste places rebuilt. And I will multiply on you man and beast, and they shall multiply and be fruitful. And I will cause you to be inhabited as in your former times, and will do more good to you than ever before. Then you will know that I am the LORD.”

(Ezekiel 36:1-2a, 9-11 ESV)

Ezekiel, prophesy to the mountains of Israel.

Mountains, hear the word of the LORD . . . I am for you . . . I will turn to you . . . you will know that I am the LORD.

Okay, chew on that for bit. God’s speaking to mountains. What does that say about creation?

I know why this dropped so powerfully on my radar this morning. Yeah, the Holy Spirit. But the fuel for the Spirit’s fire is a class I’m part of that’s working its way through some systematic theology — and last week we talked a bit about “sister nature.”

Sister nature . . . not a term I think I’ve heard before our discussion last week. Sister nature . . . as opposed to “mother nature.” Sister nature . . . though not created by God in His image as we are, yet created by God, nevertheless. Sister nature . . . not over us to be worshiped or to rule, but akin to us in that she was spoken into being by God to make God known and to bring God glory (Rom. 1:19-20, Ps. 19:1-60). Akin to us in that while she may not have breathed into her the spirit of life, nevertheless, like us, she groans under current conditions and awaits the return of the Savior (Rom. 8:19-22).

Akin to us as a sister. Not over us as a mother. Thus, as was pointed out in the pre-reading for our class, while we “do not believe in ‘mother nature,’ . . . we do rejoice that we have a ‘sister nature,’ and we seek to protect and care for nature like we would a sibling, a fellow part of God’s creation” (Watkin, Christopher. Biblical Critical Theory (p. 105). Zondervan Academic. Kindle Edition.).

God cares about His creation — all of it. He cares for mountains, that they too would fulfill His purposes and realize His promises. It’s why we should care about creation too. Not because nature is a “mother” over us or equal to us and thus commands and demands our care, but because she is a “sister” and needs our care.

And so, the LORD has a word for mountains. Who knew? He raises up a flesh and blood prophet to comfort and encourage what we think of as an inanimate object. Inanimate, and yet, somehow, in some manner not deaf as mountains too have some sort of ears to hear as they also await His coming.

For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. . . . that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.

(Romans 8:19, 21 ESV)

Hmm . . . God speaks to mountains. Worth noodling on I think.

By His grace. For His glory.

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I Lay Down My Life

Small reading in John’s gospel this morning, but a pretty big idea comes across. Only 11 verses, but one phrase repeated four times. Took just a few minutes to read, but from them given an eternity to respond.

“I am the good shepherd. I know My own and My own know Me, just as the Father knows Me and I know the Father; and I lay down My life for the sheep. And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to My voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. For this reason the Father loves Me, because I lay down My life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from Me, but I lay it down of My own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again. This charge I have received from My Father.” ~ Jesus

(John 10:14-18 ESV)

I’ve read these verses many times before. This morning the repetition echoed in a fresh and forceful manner. I felt like I was hit with the again and again peal of a massive church bell calling me to worship. I lay down My life . . . I lay down My life . . . I lay it down . . . I have authority to lay it down.

“Uh, Jesus? What did You do with Your life?”

“I laid it down. I laid it down for My sheep.”

Pause. Chew on it. Noodle on it. Meditate away. And then, let the awe and wonder build.

I love the LORD who is the “my shepherd” of Psalm 23. That He makes me lie down in green pastures and leads me beside still waters. That He restores My soul and shows me the paths of righteousness. I love that even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I’ve no need to fear evil, for He is always with me and His rod and staff comfort me. So grateful that He prepares a table for me in the presence of my enemies and anoints me with the oil of His Spirit, so much so that my cup overflows.

I love that I rest in the reality that surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life and that I can confidently look forward to dwelling in the house of the LORD forever. Yeah, I love the LORD “my shepherd.”

But without the Lord who is “the good shepherd,” there could be no “my shepherd.” He is the One who leads His sheep because He was first the One who would purpose to lay down His life for the sheep. Without the shepherd who gave Himself for His flock, the hope of a shepherd who would lead His flock would be just a pipe dream, a wish-I-may-I wish-I-might warm and fuzzy sentiment.

The LORD is my shepherd because He is the good shepherd, the One who laid down His life for the sheep. Laid it down willingly. Laid it down willfully. Willingly, because it was the Father’s determination. Laid it down willfully, because He had authority to do so. Laid it down sacrificially, so that sin’s bondage and death’s grip would be broken, and my ears would be open to hear His voice and, by faith-fueled following, be counted part of His one flock.

Hear Jesus whisper this morning, over and over again, “I lay down My life.”

And then bask afresh in the love of God, thanking Him for the cross and the One crucified on it.

And then . . . worship!

Because of such great grace. Only for His great glory.

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They Worked for Me

On this morning after the night before, it’s a phrase in Ezekiel that’s captured my attention.

Context? The Lord God’s judgment against Egypt. “I am against you, Pharaoh king of Egypt,” declares the LORD through the prophet (Ezek. 29:3). How come? “Because you have been a staff of reed to the house of Israel” (Ezek. 29:6b). You’ve been a flimsy crutch for my people (MSG). “When they gripped you, you splintered and cut their hand, and when they leaned on you, you broke and sent them sprawling” (Ezek. 29:7 MSG). Your pseudo-power and your illusory wisdom became a hope for a people who had stopped hoping in me. And so, says the LORD, while I will restore you after I have judged you, you will be “the most lowly of the kingdoms” so that you “shall never again be the reliance of the house of Israel” who sinned by turning to you for aid (Ezek. 29:15-16).

(Hmm . . . not my main thought but if Egypt is a picture of the world — and it is — then I’m seeing a connection between this and something I read in 1John this morning . . . “Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. . . And the world is passing away along with its desires . . .” (1John 2:15, 17a) )

Back to our context. God is going to judge Egypt, Israel’s “staff made of reed.” And how? With another world-dominating power (aka flimsy crutch), Babylon. Who’s Babylon? Well, she works for God.

“Therefore thus says the Lord GOD: Behold, I will give the land of Egypt to Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon; and he shall carry off its wealth and despoil it and plunder it; and it shall be the wages for his army. I have given him the land of Egypt as his payment for which he labored, because they worked for Me, declares the Lord GOD.”

(Ezekiel 29:19-20 ESV)

They worked for me . . . That’s what I’m chewing on.

Nebuchadnezzar, kind of Babylon, worked for the Lord GOD of heaven. As Peterson puts it, “He’s been working for Me all these years without pay.” A reminder that earthly sovereigns are but servants of the one and only true Sovereign. Earthly kings but contracted labor for the king of Kings. Earthly presidents just promoted personnel for the purposes of the One who “rules the kingdom of men and gives it to whom He will” (Daniel 4:17).

In case you missed it, there was an election last night. A new (old) ruler chosen by the people for the people. A new (old) government’s coming to town. And, says the LORD, “They work for Me.”

That’s our hope isn’t it? Not a red hope, not a blue hope, but a “they worked for Me” hope.

Our trust not in any government but in Him who governs all. Our peace not in any president, but in the Him who presides overall. Our path forward not found in a party’s policies but in God’s prevailing promises. Not relying on any ideological platform but resting in a loving God’s purposes. Our confidence not in how good our leaders are, but in how good our God is. Knowing, and believing, what our heavenly Father declares, “They worked for Me.”

It’s the morning after the night before . . .

By His grace. For His glory.

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Time to Cross the Field

I think it’s one of my favorite parts of almost any sports contest. Whether it’s 52 players leaving their respective dugouts to shake hands after 9 innings; or 106 gridiron warriors leaving their sidelines and crossing the field to pat one another on the shoulder pads, and ask how the wife and kids are doing after a grueling hour; or two MMA fighters crossing the octagon to give each other a high five and hug after they’ve beat on one another for 15 minutes; there’s something about athletes who compete hard against one another coming together after their match to demonstrate there’s something more than just winning or losing.

Church, it’s time to cross the field.

So, glad today is here. Let’s get ‘er done. Let’s know the will of the people as determined by a majority and the providence of God as determined by His sovereignty. And then, let’s move on and get back to being “subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution, whether it be to the emperor as supreme, or to governors as sent by Him . . . For this is the will of God, that by doing good you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish people. . . Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor” (1Peter 2:13-15, 17 ESV). Yeah, “love the brotherhood” . . . time to cross the field.

More than the polarized divisiveness and the demonized rhetoric of our political public square grieving me, it’s been how that public square has played out too often and too much within our holy, set-apart community. Too much world-talk in church spaces, from my perspective. Too much world-attitude in the body of believers, according to my sources. Put your best commentary on it and you could say that it is equally saved brothers and sisters contending equally earnestly for the faith as they equally make good faith decisions on how to best equally love their neighbors by equally engaging in the process. Equally but not uniformly, nor unanimously, nor, unfortunately, in unity. Sincerely playing the game, but in support of different teams.

But now, prompted by John, I’m thinking it’s time to cross the field.

Beloved, I am writing you no new commandment, but an old commandment that you had from the beginning. The old commandment is the word that you have heard. At the same time, it is a new commandment that I am writing to you, which is true in Him and in you, because the darkness is passing away and the true light is already shining. Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness. Whoever loves his brother abides in the light, and in him there is no cause for stumbling.

(1John 2:7-10 ESV)

Not a new commandment, but an old one. But not just an old commandment. Instead, one that’s new in the sense of priority and importance when it comes to abiding in light and to being light. New because it’s true in Jesus and, if we are in Jesus and He is in us, then should be true in us, as well. Not a light thing (as in “take it or leave it”), but a light thing (as in the darkness is passing way and the true light is shining). Love your brother, says John, it’s how you know you’re abiding in Jesus.

It’s been a battle over the past several months. Different positions, but similar passions. Different messaging, but like motives. Different sides, but all awaiting the same Savior. Now, it’s time to show a world that beyond today we actually live for a glorious tomorrow. Not because we voted for it, not because we deserve it, but because we’ve been purchased by Another and promised it. And, to that end, we’ve been asked to give up our rights, and to wear the banner of a special people, “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for His own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light” (1Peter 3:9).

And how do we proclaim His excellencies? Can I suggest that it can start by determining to love — in word and in deed — our brothers and sisters in Christ — even those on the other side? Confessing what needs to be confessed. Showing grace where grace needs to abound. Extending goodwill, even if we’re still not convinced the other side had good arguments. In humility esteeming others better than ourselves (Php. 2:3). Receiving others as Christ has received us (Rom. 15:7). Showing a warring world about us that our ultimate allegiance is to the Lamb and to each other — His blood-bought, heaven-bound people.

Whoever loves his brother abides in the light . . .

Church, let’s abide in the light. Time to cross the field.

Only by God’s grace. Always for God’s glory.

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Recognizing Twisted Scripture

Exile living ain’t necessarily easy living. Beyond the hostility of the nations around us, there’s the danger of false teachers among us (2Pet. 2:1). As to the nations around us, the sort of people we ought to be are those who seek to live “lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming day of God” (2Pet. 3:12) — even so, Lord Jesus come! But as to the “ignorant and unstable” among us, we are to “take care.”

Take care against what? Against twisted scripture.

And count the patience of our Lord as salvation, just as our beloved brother Paul also wrote to you according to the wisdom given him, as he does in all his letters when he speaks in them of these matters. There are some things in them that are hard to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction, as they do the other Scriptures.

(2Peter 3:15-16 ESV)

Twisted scriptures. It’s always been a problem. Was so with the first century Scriptures being brought online by the Spirit through Paul, was so with the Scriptures of old given to Moses and all the Prophets. Twisted as in contorted and wrenched out of place. Think ancient torture on the rack and you’re getting the picture of what was being done to the Scriptures by those who pretended to be of the Way but weren’t, those Peter identifies as the “ignorant and unstable” — or, as Philips puts it, the “ill-informed and unbalanced.” It was a thing among the people of God back then. I’m thinking it might just be a thing today, as well.

So, says Peter, “take care!”

You therefore, beloved, knowing this beforehand, take care that you are not carried away with the error of lawless people and lose your own stability.

(2Peter 3:17 ESV)

Take care lest you be carried away and lose your own stability. Take care “lest you lose your footing and get swept off your feet by these lawless and loose-talking teachers” (MSG). The stakes are high.

The twist is subtle. The ground starts to shift. And, before you know it, you’ve lost your own stability. You look around at the people of God among you, you look at yourself, and you say, “What happened! How did we get carried away?” Simple answer: twisted Scriptures.

Okay, so how do I recognize twisted scripture? I think Peter provides a diagnosing tool, a helpful barometer to detect when the winds are changing, an accurate thermometer to indicate when the temperature is out of whack.

But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. Amen.

(2Peter 3:18 ESV)

First word: “But.” Aka, in contrast. Aka, what it should look like when the Scriptures are not being twisted, and we are not being carried away, and we are not losing our own stability. But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Could it be that simple? That we can know we are rightly dividing, and rightly applying, and rightly contending for the Scriptures when we see that we are growing in grace? I’m thinking. Conversely, might it be a warning that we are being carried away and losing our own stability if, when we replay our actions and attitudes, we find we are behaving less like Jesus than we used to? That in our fight for what’s right we may be going about it all wrong? When, instead of growing in grace, we’re becoming more cantankerous and contentious? When reviling is more our tactic than “reviling not” (1Peter 2:23a)? When turning up the rhetoric is our default position rather than turning the other cheek (Matthew 5:39) and entrusting ourselves to Him who judges justly (1Peter 2:23b)?

Grace. If doing our exile thing is resulting in growing in grace, then maybe it’s an indicator we are doing exile the right way. If it isn’t, perhaps we need to take care.

Something to chew on.

By His grace. For His glory.

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The Lord Makes Space

I guess it says the same thing, but I also think there’s a subtle and important difference. To “come to” something seems to emphasize an arrival. To “reach” something seems to focus more on a journey. To “come to” makes me think more of a path. But according to the original language, to “reach” paints more a picture of space. And I guess that resonates. When it comes to repentance, it is less about a path presented and more about the space provided.

The Lord is not slow to fulfill His promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.

(2Peter 3:9 ESV)

Peter’s addressing the naysayers, those who scoff, “Where is the promise of His coming?” (2Pet. 3:3-4a). If He’s going to judge the world, they say, where’s the judgment?

Peter’s reply? Your problem isn’t really with the veracity of God’s promise, it’s with a complete lack of understanding of God’s patience. If you were honest with yourselves, you’d have to admit that God has a pretty solid track record when it comes to what He speaks and what He does (2Pet. 3:5-6). Your problem is with the space the Lord is leaving for you to reach repentance.

Reach repentance . . . That’s the phrase I’m chewing on this morning.

Other translations render it “come to repentance.” But apparently, the literal meaning of the original word used here is “to leave space” or “to have space or room for receiving or holding something.” And, like I said, that resonates. For I think getting to a place of conviction, confession, contrition, change of mind, and commitment to do a 180-degree turnabout is more akin to navigating a space than it is to following a path.

The story of the prodigal son comes to mind (Luke 15:11-24). Talk about space! Getting your inheritance early, having the luxury of being somewhat independently wealthy, gives you a lot of space. Although he may have followed a path away from his father’s house “into a far country”, once there he had the space to “squander his property in reckless living.” Who would have guessed that it would lead him to hiring himself out to feed pigs in order to feed himself — but even then, not be able to feed himself as well as he fed the pigs. Lotta room there, tons of space to discover dead-end after dead-end. But also, space for him to “come to himself.” Space to look around and then look back. Space to regret his decisions and recalibrate his desires. Space to be repelled by his current situation and remember his father’s house. Space to reach repentance.

And it’s the Lord who, in His kindness, makes space (Rom. 2:4). Patiently providing us room to get real about our sinful complicity in ending up in sad situations. Room to get in touch with our hearts and honest with our self-justifications. Room to come to our senses and admit to ourselves, “It’s time to go home.” To purpose, as did the prodigal, “I will arise and go to my Father.”

Thank God for His patience. Thank God for the cross and that through it there is always available forgiveness and cleansing from unrighteousness. Thank God for grace abounding that can’t be out sinned. Thank God for the space to come home each and every time we find we’ve wandered off. Thank God that we can always reach repentance.

By His grace. For His glory.

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