The Reins

A sermon illustration comes to mind from the foggy past as I’m reading. Something about a little girl who’s decided to go toe-to-toe with her mom. Mom finally has enough and tells the five-year-old, “Go sit in the corner, right now! And don’t get up until I tell you!” The little girl stomps to her all too familiar corner of discipline and huffs and puffs as she takes her seat. After a few minutes she mutters under her breath, “Mom, I am sitting down on the outside, but I am standing up on the inside.” That’s kind of the posture I find described by Jeremiah this morning.

Jeremiah goes a little “Job” on God. He asks for a day in court to question the Judge. Though somewhat less demanding than Job (Job 13:3), he has the same question (Job 21:7-15) — why do the wicked seem to thrive? And it’s how he describes the wicked that’s giving me something to chew on this morning.

You will be righteous, LORD,
even if I bring a case against You.
Yet, I wish to contend with You:
Why does the way of the wicked prosper?
Why do all the treacherous live at ease?
You planted them, and they have taken root.
They have grown and produced fruit.
You are ever on their lips,
but far from their conscience.

(Jeremiah 12:1-2 CSB)

Ever on their lips, but far from their conscience. Hmm . . .

This is one of those verses where looking at multiple translations seems pretty helpful. While they might give lip service to God, God is more than just far from their conscience. He really isn’t on their minds (NASB, NKJV). In fact, He is “far from their hearts” (ESV, NIV). And the one that most intrigues me (from Young’s Literal Translation): the wicked are known because though they talk the talk when it comes to God — though “Near art Thou in their mouth” — He is “far off from their reins” (Jer. 12:2 YLT).

Isn’t that the test of what’s on our mind, what’s in our heart, and what’s stirring up our conscience? Who’s got the reins? I’m thinkin’ . . .

Who’s in control when I get up in the morning? Who’s calling the shots throughout the day? Who’s the arbiter? Who’s the filter? Isn’t that difference between God talk and God walk? At least in part it is.

I don’t necessarily self-identify this morning as “the wicked” in this passage. But I do self-identify as those who are “prone to wander” (Lord, I feel it). And how often is that wandering associated with who’s really holding the reins? Easy to talk about following, harder to actually be led. Easy to want to serve, harder to submit. Easy to quote Scripture, takes something, actually Someone more than just me to obey Scripture.

Oh, how I need the Lord on my lips, for sure. But how I also need Him on my mind, AND in my heart, AND stirring my conscience, AND holding the reins.

More than I can muster on my own, though. How I need Jesus living in me and through me to enable me (Gal. 2:20).

By His grace. For His glory.

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Disciplined with Justice

If there’s sub-plot that you pick up from Jeremiah, it’s that he wasn’t just a prophet, he was a person too. He didn’t just speak the mind of God concerning “current events”, he endured them. And it wasn’t just his message which the culture about him sought to cancel, they sought to cancel him too — literally! Thus, not only is he a prophet who speaks the word of God, he is a person who weeps under the hand of God.

It’s one of his grief passages that captures my attention this morning. And as I chew on it, I’m thankful that God disciplines with justice.

I know, LORD,
that a person’s way of life is not his own;
no one who walks determines his own steps.
Discipline me, LORD, but with justice
not in Your anger,
or You will reduce me to nothing.

(Jeremiah 10:23-24 CSB)

Sounds like Jeremiah had read the book of Hebrews (or at least the same Person who inspired Jeremiah to write, also breathed-out Hebrews), for it seems he “endured suffering as discipline” (Heb. 12:7a). And he seems okay with being disciplined by the LORD, “for what son is there that a father does not discipline?” (Heb. 12:7b) But his request was that it be done with justice.

Mine too. The justice of the cross. Where sin that is committed is sin that is atoned for; where a debt that is owed is paid for in full; where wrongs are made right, where evil is supplanted by righteousness — and all that by the LORD Himself. So that God “might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus” (Rom. 3:26).

Disciplined with justice, trained through the finished work of the cross. The place where the truth of my sin was acknowledged, and the charges were laid. The place also where mercy walked in, and I was saved by God’s amazing grace. The place where mercy remains present and grace is still saving, even as the Lord disciplines those He loves.

Can’t help but think of the courtroom described in a song by Gordon Mote. Gonna listen to it again as I finish up my meal this morning. Here it is for you to do likewise.

Disciplined with justice.

By His grace. For His glory.

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“Appropriate” is Appropriate

I’ve always known the verse as “beautiful.” But this morning, reading a new translation this year, it seems “appropriate” is appropriate.

He has made everything appropriate in its time.

(Ecclesiastes 3:11a CSB)

If I had ever been an NASB reader I would have encountered this translation before, but I haven’t. For over 40 years, through four different translations, I’ve only known the Teacher’s (Eccl. 1:1) teaching as “He has made everything beautiful in its time.” And I always read it as redemptive or restorative as in, He will make everything beautiful. But a new translation causes new attention to detail and a new, more accurate, understanding, I think. For, it’s not that He will, but that He has. And in the context of the verses above it, what makes the thought even more amazing is the everything are opposite things.

There is an occasion for everything,
and a time for every activity under heaven:
a time to give birth and a time to die;
a time to plant and a time to uproot.
a time to kill and a time to heal;
a time to tear down and a time to build;
a time to weep and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn and a time to dance;

(Ecclesiastes 3:1-4 CSB)

There is an occasion, or a time, for everything and thus God has made everything appropriate, or beautiful, in its time. Even opposite things. But if I’m honest with myself, often I don’t like the opposite thing so I’d prefer just the one thing.

Yet, this morning the Spirit assures me there really is a time for every activity under heaven. And not just a time, but an appropriate time, a time when even the opposite thing, under God’s sovereign leading and grace-fueled blessing, is the appropriate thing, even a beautiful thing. (Hope this is making sense?)

Who wouldn’t rather always be attending baby showers and forever avoiding funerals? But both, in its time, are eminently fitting.

Who wouldn’t prefer to always plant and build rather than uproot and tear down. But both, when the time is right, are suitable.

And that, because God has determined its time. In His sovereign purposes and according to His unfailing love God knows when “appropriate” is appropriate. And that’s what makes it beautiful.

Even weeping and not just laughing; mourning and not just dancing. Even saying, “Good-bye”, when you wish it might have been a forever, “Hello.”

Mine is to trust in the Lord with all my heart and not to rely on my own understanding. To acknowledge Him in all my ways — and at all times and in all seasons — confident that He will direct my paths. (Proverbs 3:5-6). And when I do that, whatever the thing, it will be a beautiful thing, as He makes it the appropriate thing — in its time.

Another facet of God’s amazing grace to chew on.

Another reason to give Him all the glory.

And that’s appropriate all the time. Amen?

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A Sword Swallowing Act

The latter part of the first chapter of James has to do with the word of God. Three observations tell me so.

The first observation reminds me that, in God’s sovereign determination, I was born again by the word of God.

By His own choice, He gave us birth by the word of truth so that we would be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures.

(James 1:18 CSB)

I was awakened to being a new creation through the enlivening work of the Spirit as I engaged with the written word of God. I was raised from the deadness of sin through the resurrecting power of the Spirit as I received and purposed to follow the living Word of God.

The third observation is that my encounter with the word of God was never intended to be a one-and-done thing.

But the one who looks intently into the perfect law of freedom and perseveres in it, and is not a forgetful hearer but a doer who works ​— ​this person will be blessed in what he does.

(James 1:24-25 CSB)

The blessing of being a new creation in Christ through the word is intricately linked to walking as a new creation in Christ by the word. And not just some casual, periodic, superficial encounter with the word, but by looking intently into it — bowing ourselves over the word, searching it carefully and curiously.

Born by the word to obey the word. Got it. So far, so good.

But it’s the middle observation that’s giving me something to chew on this morning — and a bit of heartburn (pun intended).

Therefore, ridding yourselves of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent, humbly receive the implanted word, which is able to save your souls.

(James 1:21 CSB)

Humbly receive the implanted word. Sounds easy enough. Actually sounds kind of warm and fuzzy, doesn’t it? The implanted word, the word grafted into my very being — the agricultural sound of it kind of grabs me as idyllic. You know, like a tree planted by steams of water, bearing fruit in its season, whose leaf does not wither, prospering in whatever is undertaken (Ps. 1:2-3). Kind of peaceful.

But for some reason (a Spirit reason?), those aren’t the dots that connect for me this morning. After all, such a pastoral picture isn’t something which would have to be “humbly received”, it would be easily embraced. Instead, another description of the word comes to mind. And it’s this dynamic, which if implanted, truly would need to be received humbly in order to be received at all.

For the word of God is living and effective and sharper than any double-edged sword, penetrating as far as the separation of soul and spirit, joints and marrow. It is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.

(Hebrews 4:12 CSB)

A sword. A double-edged sword. A sword slicing and dicing as it judges the thoughts and intents of the heart, even as it separates soul and spirit, joints and marrow. That’s the implanted word I am to humbly receive. I cringe when I watch sword swallowing acts. But this morning I’m told to be one.

A sword engrafted within my soul and spirit. A sword which, when things get stirred up inside, may very well cut deep. Pruning from the inside out.

But that’s exactly how the implanted word can save my soul. I was saved when given birth by the word of truth, but I am being saved as the implanted word does it’s purifying work deep within.

Kind of painful at times. Might be tempting to look not so intently after a while. I think I understand the propensity for someone to look into the mirror of the word, not really like what he sees, and so “goes away, and immediately forgets what kind of person he was” (James 1:22-24).

But for those who do look intently; for those who believe the sword implanted is the law of freedom which empowers; for those who persevere — even when being sliced and diced from the inside out; they are blessed even as their souls are being saved.

Sword swallowing. Can cut deep. Can be painful. Needs to be practiced in order to be perfected. A hard act to follow. But follow we must.

Only by His grace. Because we want to live for His glory.

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A One-Way Trip (2010 Rerun)

Chewing on a command to obey as I wrap up Hebrews. Went back deep in my journal archives and noodled on some thoughts from 2010. I smile at the things that came to mind then about “the camps I’ve had to leave” as I consider the other “camps” life has had me exit since then. But what hasn’t changed is that it’s still about “going forth to Him.” Whatever context “outside the camp” may take, it’s there we find Jesus. Rerunning those thoughts this morning.


For the better part of 13 chapters he has contended for their faith. The writer of the letter to the Hebrews addresses those who thought that they had seen in Jesus the prophesied Messiah and had put their hope and trust in Him . . . most likely they had publicly declared their faith through baptism . . . identifying themselves with this new movement that preached a salvation apart from works. The Mosaic law, the temple, the Levitical practices, while all still very important and meaningful had become “the old way of life” . . . no longer viewed as the means of acceptance with God, but now seen as but a shadow of that which was accomplished by Jesus through His death and resurrection. But with this new Way came new troubles. Rejected by family, friends, and the Hebrew community at large, they wavered . . . was Jesus really Messiah? . . . is this truly the way? . . . is it worth the trial and struggle? And so, he contends for their faith.

And as he concludes his letter with a number of final exhortations, one in particular has me thinking . . .

Therefore let us go forth to Him, outside the camp, bearing His reproach.”

(Hebrews 13:13 NKJV)

Just as the carcasses of the animal offerings of old, whose blood was shed for temporary atonement, were taken and burned outside the tent city of Moses’ time, so Jesus was taken outside the walls of Jerusalem to suffer and die. He, being the better sacrifice of a better covenant, was taken outside the gates of Jerusalem and there, that He might sanctify the people, He shed His own blood . . . securing once for all atonement . . . opening forever a way into the presence of God and into relationship with God. This way being made available to all who believe . . . apart from works . . . by grace alone. Free . . . but, as these believers were experiencing, not without cost. And thus, says the writer, we need to be prepared to go to outside the camp and bear His reproach.

I guess there are a few camps that I have had to leave in order to pursue this new life in Christ. The camp of the “faith of my fathers” or, in my case, the lack thereof . . . not popular initially, still not understood now, by many of my blood relatives. There was also the camp of the dance band and the world that it had brought me into — a world I was led to leave. And the camp of “normal college activities” which I felt I needed to sit out and take an outsider’s posture toward thus not quite fitting in. And as I think on it, I can probably come up with other camps that I have had to leave or decide to forego participating in because of a Spirit fueled desire to try and follow Jesus . . . to try and walk the talk . . . to be consistent . . . to be obedient. The reproach hasn’t been severe . . . the price doesn’t even compare to what others, in different parts of the world, are suffering for the sake of following Christ. But regardless of the degree of reproach, there was a trip to be taken . . . a one-way trip . . . a trip that I think all believers have to, at some point or another, decide to make . . . a trip to “outside the camp.”

But it’s not going outside just for the sake of being different . . . not just leaving something . . . not just “not doing” something . . . but we “go forth to Him.” We step out in pursuit of something better . . . Jesus. We go outside because being with Him and living for Him is so superior to staying inside. We exit the gates of that place because “here we have no continuing city, but we seek the one to come” (Heb. 13:14). It’s not about looking back at what we’ve left, but looking forward to what lies ahead . . . considering “that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Rom. 8:18).

Oh, that God, through the Spirit living inside believers, would enable us to go outside the camp . . . whatever that might be . . . to leave the constraints of the old man and the old ways . . . to not be trapped by what others might think or not think of us . . . but, to go outside the camp in pursuit of the Giver of Life . . . to fix our eyes on that city to come . . . to set our feet upon pilgrimage to the place where He is the glory and the Light and the All-in-All. That He would lead us on this one-way trip . . . by His grace . . . for our good . . . and for His glory . . . amen.

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A Healthy Heart

This morning I’m chewing on a bit of advice tucked away in Hebrews. An assessment of faith, which I know to be true, but that I need to be reminded of again and again. Something that is good. Something which contributes to a healthy heart.

. . . for it is good for the heart to be established by grace and not by food regulations . . .

(Hebrews 13:9b CSB)

This valuation of what’s good for the heart is tucked inside an exhortation to not be “led astray by various kinds of strange teachings” (Heb. 13:9a). Strange teachings about how to merit God’s acceptance and that through what you put in your belly. Strange, but familiar. Traditions based on the law of Moses to which some who have tasted of Christ are looking again because the trials that come through following Christ are feeling like they’re too much to handle. But, says the writer, going back isn’t what’s going to make it better. In fact, what’s good for the heart doesn’t depend on what you purpose to eat, it’s fueled by that upon which you determine to stand. It is good for the heart to be established by grace.

Established by grace. Standing firm because of unmerited favor. Strengthened in the inner man because of what’s abundantly gifted from outside a man. Independent of religion, wholly dependent on the dynamics of redemption — for by grace you are saved (Eph. 2:8).

If we’re being real — as I was once told as a young believer — while salvation is free it really will cost you everything. While it breaks the bondage of sin, it also enlists you as a bondservant of Christ. A lot of to do’s and a lot of to be’s come with receiving the gift. You are not your own, for you were bought with a price (1Cor. 6:19b-20a). But it is not in our doing or our being that we are firmly established, they are but the outcomes of a healthy heart. And it is good for the heart to be established by grace.

Grace. God’s grace. The grace found at the foot of the cross, at the entrance to an empty tomb, at the seat of the One who sits at God’s right hand ever interceding for us. That’s where the power lies to power our lives. That’s where standing firm is sourced, and re-sourced again and again, when we fail. That’s where hope is made sure, even when doubts assail. Grace, grace, God’s grace; Grace that is greater than all my sin.

It’s good for the heart. It’s good for the soul. Because we can’t out sin grace (Rom. 5:20). And we certainly can’t out work grace (Rom. 11:6). We can only stand on grace, hold fast by grace, and be established by grace.

Grace is good for the heart. A windfall for the weary. Strength for the shaken. Benefiting those who are beat up.

Established by grace.

Keeping on for His glory.

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Make Sure

I’m reminded again this morning how wired I am (not the “good” wiring, me thinks) to read Scripture as if it’s meant for me the individual rather than me the member of a community. I can “amen! — I’ll do that” pretty quickly one moment and then “what!?! — you want me to do that?” just as quickly the next. Case in point, some verses in my Hebrews 12 reading this morning.

Pursue peace with everyone, and holiness ​— ​without it no one will see the Lord. Make sure that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no root of bitterness springs up, causing trouble and defiling many. And make sure that there isn’t any immoral or irreverent person like Esau, who sold his birthright in exchange for a single meal.

(Hebrews 12:14-16 CSB)

Pursue peace. Pursue holiness. Check!. Got it. Will do. By Your grace, for Your glory. Thanx for speaking to me this morning, Lord.

What? There’s more? With everyone? It’s a team sport? Um, okay. I’ll get together with everyone for 90 minutes once a week, 2 or 3 weeks a month, and we’ll get ‘er done. That should do it. Easy-peasy!

What again? There’s even more? Pursuing peace and holding on to holiness means that I’ll make sure no one else misses out on the grace of God and that I’ll make sure no root of bitterness springs up in our midst. And that I’ll make sure that immorality and irreverence for God isn’t found in our spiritual family? Okay, now that seems a bit extreme.

I am so quick to underline the commands about pursuing. But I had to do a double-take and go back and mark the commands to make sure. Did I mention that I tend to be wired to filter God’s word through a me mindset rather than a we mindset?

If church is easy, then I’m thinking we really aren’t doing church as Scripture envisions. We’ve been so cooked by the boiling water of the worldly way of expressive individualism which has subtly raised the temperature of the “watch out for number 1” waters around us, that we totally miss that most of what is written in our New Testament is not written to individuals but to a community of believers. Yes, I’m exhorted to take personal responsibility for obedience. But I’m also expected to do it in the context of community where I take on some responsibility for the obedience of others. Make sure that no one falls short of the grace of God.

If doing church doesn’t get messy at times, then we’re just mingling and not really fellowshiping with other sinners saved by grace who are but works in progress like us? And I’m wondering if that’s because we’ve answered an ancient question with an errant response. “Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Gen. 4:9). Based on this morning’s reading, “Evidently, yes.” Make sure that no root of bitterness springs up, causing trouble and defiling many.

When’s the last time I was involved in drawing alongside a brother or a sister who was “overtaken in any wrongdoing” (Gal. 6:1)? When’s the last time I called someone on being overtaken? When’s the last time I knew someone well enough to do so? When’s the last time I loved someone enough to do so? We are called the household of God, a family (Eph. 2:19, 1Tim. 3:15, 1Pet. 4:17). Think back on doing life when you were in the same house with your family — and not just the good, but the bad and ugly too. Isn’t that kind of what church is gonna look like from time to time? We’re brothers and sisters in Christ — so, tell me what it was like growing up with your brothers and sisters from your mom and dad? If we are living in real Christian community, it’s gonna get real every so often. Make sure that there isn’t any immoral or irreverent person.

Make sure. It’s a command to obey. It’s the love of Christ in action. It’s how we are to do sanctification — together!

Because it really isn’t just about me . . . it’s about we.

By His grace. For His glory.

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Limping, But Not Dislocated

“No discipline seems enjoyable at the time, but painful.” Ya’ think?

Thinking this morning that I need to make the first half of Hebrews 12 mandatory reading when the going gets tough. It’s an exhortation to “run with endurance.” And such running requires dealing with “the sin that so easily ensnares” and fixing our eyes on Jesus so that we “won’t grow weary and give up” (Heb. 12:1-3). But doing that, the writer makes clear, while helping us to endure the going that has gotten tough, does not extricate us from tough going. Instead, we are to “endure suffering.”

But wait, there’s more!

Our suffering is not to be an excuse for a pity party, though it may be cause for pity. Our suffering is not something we are to rail against demanding justice, though we may be enduring grave injustice. Rather we are to “endure suffering as discipline”, God’s discipline, the discipline that proves we are beloved sons and daughters of our Father on high. Does that help? It’s supposed to.

Rather than resist, we are to receive (Heb. 12:9). Rather than bemoan how bad things are, we believe it is for our benefit (Heb. 12:10). Easy? Nope. That’s why the exhortation to endure. That’s why the need to fix our eyes on Jesus.

But fruitful? Yup — if we endure suffering as discipline.

No discipline seems enjoyable at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.

Therefore, strengthen your tired hands and weakened knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be dislocated but healed instead.

(Hebrews 12:11-13 CSB)

It’s that last phrase I’m chewing on . . . so that what is lame may not be dislocated but healed.

Maybe the reason we (me) don’t like suffering is because it reminds us of how weak we are, how lame. Literally, how “deprived of foot” we are. That, at our best, we are just limping along. Limping, that’s us (me). New creations crippled by the old nature. Pressing on in pilgrimage but haltingly because of weakness.

Sufferings, so contends Hebrews, are gonna help with that. If we engage our sufferings, believing they are being used by a loving Father who is for us and not against us (Rom. 8:31) to train us, then the limping gets better. If we don’t submit to the training, the limping gets worse — eventually becoming “twisted out” or “wrenched out of joint” (literal translation).

The Scriptures aren’t in denial, they don’t mince words. Suffering is hard. Suffering requires endurance. Suffering pleads with us to run the race. But suffering knows it’s gonna show that we run with a limp.

Great! Not only suffering but limping too. Can it get worse? Apparently — think dislocation.

But can it get better? Yes it can. There can be healing. There can be the “peaceful fruit of righteousness” produced through the permitted seasons of pain. That’s the promise here.

How? Not in our own strength. Only by . . .

. . . keeping our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. For the joy that lay before Him, He endured the cross, despising the shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

(Hebrews 12:2 CSB)

Our eyes fixed on the Son who was “disciplined” by the Father for our sin as He endured the suffering of the cross. The Source of our salvation made perfect through suffering (Heb. 2:10), now ascended, seated at the right hand of God, ever living to make intercession for us (Rom. 8:34, Heb. 7:25). The One able to sympathize with our limping (Heb. 4:15), the One who has promised our healing. If we will endure suffering as discipline.

Limping, but not dislocated.

By His grace. For His glory.

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Consequences of Faith

Last Friday’s meal on Hebrews 11, which focused on some of the works which accompany faith, seems somewhat bland in comparison to what I’m chewing on this morning as I conclude Hebrews 11. It’s one thing to be encouraged towards works which accompany faith, but am I ready for the consequences which may accompany the works which accompany faith?

And what more can I say? Time is too short for me to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel, and the prophets, who by faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, quenched the raging of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, gained strength in weakness, became mighty in battle, and put foreign armies to flight. Women received their dead, raised to life again. Other people were tortured, not accepting release, so that they might gain a better resurrection. Others experienced mockings and scourgings, as well as bonds and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawed in two, they died by the sword, they wandered about in sheepskins, in goatskins, destitute, afflicted, and mistreated. The world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and on mountains, hiding in caves and holes in the ground.

All these were approved through their faith . . .

(Hebrews 11:32-39a CSB)

Even the “wins” in this list are pretty harrowing. Shutting the mouths of lions is pretty cool . . . but first you need to be willing to look down their throats. Quenching the raging fire would be a rush, but first you need to be willing to walk in the flames. Who wants to get so near a sword that you’re looking down its edge, even if you do escape it? And those are the “victories.” What about the “losses”; the mockings and scourgings and imprisonments, oh my?!? Stoned, sawn in two, dying by the sword. And, if you avoid death, what about living in goatskins and being destitute as you awake each morning to another day of being afflicted and mistreated. Welcome to the consequences which accompany the works which accompany faith.

Pretty violent reading this morning. But not the most violent of this morning’s readings. And it’s the other one that gives a clue as to how participating in this one is even possible. For “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Gal. 2:20a).

But He was pierced because of our rebellion,
crushed because of our iniquities;
punishment for our peace was on Him,
and we are healed by His wounds.
We all went astray like sheep;
we all have turned to our own way;
and the Lord has punished Him
for the iniquity of us all.

He was oppressed and afflicted,
yet He did not open His mouth.
Like a lamb led to the slaughter
and like a sheep silent before her shearers,
He did not open his mouth.

(Isaiah 53:5-7 CSB)

God’s suffering Servant, our Lord Jesus Christ, is not unable to sympathize with the consequences which accompany the works which accompany faith (Heb. 4:15). He’s been there, done that. And now He lives here (in me) and is ready to enable that, if that’s what God calls me to in order to walk by faith. And while it’s probably not gonna be in lines with what I’m hovering over this morning in Hebrews 11, it is for some of our brothers and sisters in the world. Lord, have mercy!

However, for me to think that the faith-fueled life will never result in hard to bear, faith-fueled consequences would require me to be in denial of what is implied by Jesus calling me to take up my cross and follow Him (Lk. 9:23). I need to expect that there will be less than desired consequences of faith. But I don’t bear them alone.

Without faith it is impossible to please God (Heb. 11:6). But with faith I shouldn’t be surprised if being faithful might also mean seasons a wandering in deserts and hiding in caves. But I wander with Jesus. And I’m hidden in the cleft of the Rock — the Rock who was led like a lamb to the slaughter; the Rock who rose again on the third day (read that too this morning); the Rock who even this day lives in me.

Enabling me by His all-sufficient grace. Enlisting me for His everlasting glory.

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More Than A Feeling

Defining faith. That’s what I’m doing this morning as I mentally chew on the first half of Hebrews 11.

Ask me what faith is before this morning’s reading and I probably would have been quick to give a one-word answer, “Believing.” And it is. But it’s also more.

Now faith is the reality of what is hoped for, the proof of what is not seen.

(Hebrews 11:1 CSB)

Hmm . . . the reality . . . the proof . . . pretty substantive stuff. To quote a famous band from the ’70’s, faith is “more than a feeling.”

And as I read on, it really is! It’s more than just some pie-in-the-sky for a sweet-by-and-by. Faith fuels action. Where there’s the “smoke” of living outside the norms of those around us, you can suspect there’s the “fire” of faith operative within us. Or, to say it as James would, “I will show you faith by my works” (James 2:18b).

So, what are some of the works of faith? Well according to the cast of characters in Hebrews 11:1-16 . . .

A person of faith is an understander, knowing that God created the universe (v.3). They are an offerer (v.4), sacrificially giving gifts to God. And they are a pleaser (v.5), their acts of faith serving to delight their God — in fact, without faith it is impossible to please God (v.6).

What’s more, the person of faith is a condemner (v.7), their determination to hold fast to what is not seen an indictment to all around who worship and live for what is.

The person of faith is a goer, even when they are not a knower of where they are going (v.8). When called, they obey, willing to live as a foreigner in the land of promise even as they wait for the promise to be fulfilled.

And the person of faith is a receiver — a receiver of power beyond their own power because they are also a considerer, considering God faithful to His promises (v.11).

Faith’s presence is manifest in faith’s performance. Its existence is known by its execution.

It’s more than a feeling.

Now faith is the reality of what is hoped for, the proof of what is not seen. For by this our ancestors were approved.

(Hebrews 11:1-2 CSB)

Because of God’s grace. Only for God’s glory.

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