http://gospeltranslations.org/w/index.php?title=Special:Contributions/Kathyyee&feed=atom&target=KathyyeeGospel Translations - User contributions [en]2024-03-29T14:07:53ZFrom Gospel TranslationsMediaWiki 1.16alphahttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Good_Leaders_Are_Easy_to_FollowGood Leaders Are Easy to Follow2023-02-15T20:13:04Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "Good Leaders Are Easy to Follow" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''How Shepherds Shape the Sheep'''<br />
<br />
If I let my 5-year-old have a can of Coke, a bag of Skittles, and half a dozen Oreos right before bed, I shouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t listen when I say it is time to sleep. Yes, my child would still be responsible for his willful disobedience, but I have set him up for failure. Through my permissiveness of sugary junk food before bed, I have failed him. My leadership and oversight can set my children up for success or failure. The patterns, rhythms, and habits that a mom and dad establish for their family will shape the behavior of their children.<br />
<br />
This is also true in ministry. Consider Hebrews 13:17: “Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with groaning, for that would be of no advantage to you.”<br />
<br />
The basic idea of this verse is that believers ought to obey and submit to their leaders — that is, the pastors and elders of their local church — who are tasked with caring for their souls. It is more beneficial for believers to make this a joy-filled job since they will be on the receiving end of their pastors’ care. You don’t want to antagonize the surgeon moments before he cuts open your heart for your quadruple-bypass surgery. A church’s willingness to obey and submit affects the joy and the care they receive from their leaders.<br />
<br />
But the reverse is true as well. Leaders can lead in a way that makes obedience and submission easy and happy, or difficult and frustrating. ''Shepherds shape the habits of the sheep''. Patterns of leadership affect those on the receiving end, for good or for ill.<br />
<br />
'''Wanted: Eager and Happy Pastors'''<br />
<br />
A foundational text for leaders is 2 Corinthians 1:24: “Not that we lord it over your faith, but we work with you ''for your joy'', for you stand firm in your faith.” Christian leadership ought not to feel like oppression or the rule of a dictator. Instead, pastor-elders labor ''for the joy'' of those they serve. The apostle Peter writes that the task of shepherding and oversight is to be done willingly, eagerly, and by setting an example for others (1 Peter 5:1–4). Begrudging shepherding doesn’t serve the shepherd or the sheep. But joy-filled and eager shepherding results in the joy of those on the receiving end of such care.<br />
<br />
Jesus is a happy-hearted shepherd of his sheep. He says in John 15:11, “These things I have spoken to you, that ''my joy may be in you'', and that your ''joy may be full''.” Jesus, full of joy, takes joy in loving his people and desires his joy to fill his people. Similarly, Jesus says, “Ask, and you will receive, that your ''joy may be full''” (John 16:24).<br />
<br />
Hebrews 12:1–2 gives us another look at Jesus’s own joy: “Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, ''who for the joy that was set before him'' endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” Jesus looked for joy, even through the shame of the cross, knowing his death would save sinners, grant forgiveness, and satisfy God’s wrath. Jesus is a joy-filled shepherd of the sheep, and his undershepherds are to be like him.<br />
<br />
So how does a pastor consistently reflect the happy heart of Jesus? Let me share three reflections by applying Hebrews 13:17 to the ''pastor''.<br />
<br />
'''1. Lead wisely to maximize joy.'''<br />
<br />
Good leaders make following easy, and bad leaders make following miserable. Wise and godly leadership, for a godly and humble people, makes everyone more happy. Like a dad who serves as an engine of joy in his home, good leaders ignite and maximize joy in others. And when those in your charge are happy, your labor is joy-filled and not carried out in groaning.<br />
<br />
Wise and godly leadership engenders trust — and one of the best ways to engender trust is to lead with consistency. If a mom and dad are arbitrary in their rules, always changing the target and never following their own standards, children will fail to obey. Similarly with churches, disobedience often stems from inconsistent leadership.<br />
<br />
Thus, let your yes be yes and your no be no (James 5:12). Do not appease or placate with lies or half-truths. Renounce all the disgraceful and underhanded ways of the world (2 Corinthians 4:2). Be tenaciously true to your word. Be candid ''and'' gentle, corrective and encouraging. Never excuse misbehavior, in yourself or in others.<br />
<br />
Godly leadership has a profound effect upon those under them: “When one rules justly over men, ruling in the fear of God, he dawns on them like the morning light, like the sun shining forth on a cloudless morning, like rain that makes grass to sprout from the earth” (2 Samuel 23:3–4). Wise leadership maximizes the joy of God’s people and the joy of the shepherd.<br />
<br />
'''2. Serve humbly to multiply joy.'''<br />
<br />
When Paul wrote to the Philippians, “Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:4), he wrote as one who had modeled selflessness and sacrifice as he put the Philippians’ interests above his own (Philippians 1:24–26). Paul even goes on to exhort the Philippians to imitate his example of humility and faithfulness (Philippians 3:17).<br />
<br />
In a family, a dad who barks at his children to help mom in the kitchen when he’s fixated on college football is communicating something. He’s leading by example: “Do as I say, not as I do.” This father undermines the trust of his children and wife. He works against the very thing he wants — family joy — through his poor example.<br />
<br />
Contrast this with humble service that multiplies joy in others. The Queen of Sheba comes to Solomon’s kingdom and exclaims,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>The report was true that I heard in my own land of your words and of your wisdom, but I did not believe the reports until I came and my own eyes had seen it. And behold, the half was not told me. Your wisdom and prosperity surpass the report that I heard. Happy are your men! Happy are your servants, who continually stand before you and hear your wisdom! (1 Kings 10:6–8)</blockquote><br />
<br />
At least early in his reign, Solomon multiplied joy into the lives of his men, servants, and kingdom through his rule. This godly leadership glorifies God. Joy multiplies under good and humble leadership.<br />
<br />
One might object, “I’m not as wise as King Solomon!” True. But Solomon humbled himself before God to ask for God’s help (1 Kings 3:7–9). He says that he is like a little child trying to shepherd God’s great people. Though we are not as wise as Solomon, we can humble ourselves to ask God for help, knowing that God “gives [wisdom] generously to all without reproach” (James 1:5).<br />
<br />
'''3. Shepherd faithfully for enduring joy.'''<br />
<br />
Lastly, Hebrews 13:17 reminds us that undershepherds “will have to give an account” to God for how they led their people. This will be the most sober job-performance review. We will be judged for our teaching (Acts 20:27; 1 Timothy 2:15; James 3:1), our example (1 Timothy 4:12), our continued progress and growth (1 Timothy 4:15), and our bearing the fruit of the Spirit (1 Timothy 6:11).<br />
<br />
Though we are not perfect shepherds, we can, by God’s grace, be faithful shepherds. Elders are to carry out the high and holy calling of shepherding God’s people without shame. So, pastor, shepherd with earnestness, eagerness, and honesty. Do not shrink back. Do not fail to rebuke, admonish, and correct with gentleness. Do not withhold the whole counsel of God. Do not fail to build up, equip, and encourage.<br />
<br />
This faithful shepherding results in enduring happiness for both the shepherd and the sheep. Those who are increasingly conformed to the image of Christ will invariably grow in joy. And shepherds who labor for the joy of others will share in that multiplied joy. Knowing that shepherds will have to give an account to God frees them from the fear of man. Joy is not bound up in accolades, hindered by criticism, or decided by physical circumstances. Instead, like Paul, we can rejoice as long as Christ is proclaimed, people are saved, and the church is conformed to the likeness of Jesus.<br />
<br />
Thus, Paul reminds us again in 2 Corinthians 1:24 that we labor and work with others, as he did, for their joy. And as their joy grows, so does our own. And as our joy grows, we shepherd in the joy of the Lord. Dutiful, dour, and begrudging shepherding satisfies no one — not the sheep and not the shepherd. Therefore, strive to be a happy-hearted shepherd of the people of God, multiplying the joy of others in Jesus.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Good_Leaders_Are_Easy_to_FollowGood Leaders Are Easy to Follow2023-02-15T20:12:55Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''How Shepherds Shape the Sheep''' If I let my 5-year-old have a can of Coke, a bag of Skittles, and half a dozen Oreos right before bed, I shouldn’t be surprised if ...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''How Shepherds Shape the Sheep'''<br />
<br />
If I let my 5-year-old have a can of Coke, a bag of Skittles, and half a dozen Oreos right before bed, I shouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t listen when I say it is time to sleep. Yes, my child would still be responsible for his willful disobedience, but I have set him up for failure. Through my permissiveness of sugary junk food before bed, I have failed him. My leadership and oversight can set my children up for success or failure. The patterns, rhythms, and habits that a mom and dad establish for their family will shape the behavior of their children.<br />
<br />
This is also true in ministry. Consider Hebrews 13:17: “Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with groaning, for that would be of no advantage to you.”<br />
<br />
The basic idea of this verse is that believers ought to obey and submit to their leaders — that is, the pastors and elders of their local church — who are tasked with caring for their souls. It is more beneficial for believers to make this a joy-filled job since they will be on the receiving end of their pastors’ care. You don’t want to antagonize the surgeon moments before he cuts open your heart for your quadruple-bypass surgery. A church’s willingness to obey and submit affects the joy and the care they receive from their leaders.<br />
<br />
But the reverse is true as well. Leaders can lead in a way that makes obedience and submission easy and happy, or difficult and frustrating. ''Shepherds shape the habits of the sheep''. Patterns of leadership affect those on the receiving end, for good or for ill.<br />
<br />
'''Wanted: Eager and Happy Pastors'''<br />
<br />
A foundational text for leaders is 2 Corinthians 1:24: “Not that we lord it over your faith, but we work with you ''for your joy'', for you stand firm in your faith.” Christian leadership ought not to feel like oppression or the rule of a dictator. Instead, pastor-elders labor ''for the joy'' of those they serve. The apostle Peter writes that the task of shepherding and oversight is to be done willingly, eagerly, and by setting an example for others (1 Peter 5:1–4). Begrudging shepherding doesn’t serve the shepherd or the sheep. But joy-filled and eager shepherding results in the joy of those on the receiving end of such care.<br />
<br />
Jesus is a happy-hearted shepherd of his sheep. He says in John 15:11, “These things I have spoken to you, that ''my joy may be in you'', and that your ''joy may be full''.” Jesus, full of joy, takes joy in loving his people and desires his joy to fill his people. Similarly, Jesus says, “Ask, and you will receive, that your ''joy may be full''” (John 16:24).<br />
<br />
Hebrews 12:1–2 gives us another look at Jesus’s own joy: “Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, ''who for the joy that was set before him'' endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” Jesus looked for joy, even through the shame of the cross, knowing his death would save sinners, grant forgiveness, and satisfy God’s wrath. Jesus is a joy-filled shepherd of the sheep, and his undershepherds are to be like him.<br />
<br />
So how does a pastor consistently reflect the happy heart of Jesus? Let me share three reflections by applying Hebrews 13:17 to the ''pastor''.<br />
<br />
'''1. Lead wisely to maximize joy.'''<br />
<br />
Good leaders make following easy, and bad leaders make following miserable. Wise and godly leadership, for a godly and humble people, makes everyone more happy. Like a dad who serves as an engine of joy in his home, good leaders ignite and maximize joy in others. And when those in your charge are happy, your labor is joy-filled and not carried out in groaning.<br />
<br />
Wise and godly leadership engenders trust — and one of the best ways to engender trust is to lead with consistency. If a mom and dad are arbitrary in their rules, always changing the target and never following their own standards, children will fail to obey. Similarly with churches, disobedience often stems from inconsistent leadership.<br />
<br />
Thus, let your yes be yes and your no be no (James 5:12). Do not appease or placate with lies or half-truths. Renounce all the disgraceful and underhanded ways of the world (2 Corinthians 4:2). Be tenaciously true to your word. Be candid ''and'' gentle, corrective and encouraging. Never excuse misbehavior, in yourself or in others.<br />
<br />
Godly leadership has a profound effect upon those under them: “When one rules justly over men, ruling in the fear of God, he dawns on them like the morning light, like the sun shining forth on a cloudless morning, like rain that makes grass to sprout from the earth” (2 Samuel 23:3–4). Wise leadership maximizes the joy of God’s people and the joy of the shepherd.<br />
<br />
'''2. Serve humbly to multiply joy.'''<br />
<br />
When Paul wrote to the Philippians, “Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:4), he wrote as one who had modeled selflessness and sacrifice as he put the Philippians’ interests above his own (Philippians 1:24–26). Paul even goes on to exhort the Philippians to imitate his example of humility and faithfulness (Philippians 3:17).<br />
<br />
In a family, a dad who barks at his children to help mom in the kitchen when he’s fixated on college football is communicating something. He’s leading by example: “Do as I say, not as I do.” This father undermines the trust of his children and wife. He works against the very thing he wants — family joy — through his poor example.<br />
<br />
Contrast this with humble service that multiplies joy in others. The Queen of Sheba comes to Solomon’s kingdom and exclaims,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>The report was true that I heard in my own land of your words and of your wisdom, but I did not believe the reports until I came and my own eyes had seen it. And behold, the half was not told me. Your wisdom and prosperity surpass the report that I heard. Happy are your men! Happy are your servants, who continually stand before you and hear your wisdom! (1 Kings 10:6–8)</blockquote><br />
<br />
At least early in his reign, Solomon multiplied joy into the lives of his men, servants, and kingdom through his rule. This godly leadership glorifies God. Joy multiplies under good and humble leadership.<br />
<br />
One might object, “I’m not as wise as King Solomon!” True. But Solomon humbled himself before God to ask for God’s help (1 Kings 3:7–9). He says that he is like a little child trying to shepherd God’s great people. Though we are not as wise as Solomon, we can humble ourselves to ask God for help, knowing that God “gives [wisdom] generously to all without reproach” (James 1:5).<br />
<br />
'''3. Shepherd faithfully for enduring joy.'''<br />
<br />
Lastly, Hebrews 13:17 reminds us that undershepherds “will have to give an account” to God for how they led their people. This will be the most sober job-performance review. We will be judged for our teaching (Acts 20:27; 1 Timothy 2:15; James 3:1), our example (1 Timothy 4:12), our continued progress and growth (1 Timothy 4:15), and our bearing the fruit of the Spirit (1 Timothy 6:11).<br />
<br />
Though we are not perfect shepherds, we can, by God’s grace, be faithful shepherds. Elders are to carry out the high and holy calling of shepherding God’s people without shame. So, pastor, shepherd with earnestness, eagerness, and honesty. Do not shrink back. Do not fail to rebuke, admonish, and correct with gentleness. Do not withhold the whole counsel of God. Do not fail to build up, equip, and encourage.<br />
<br />
This faithful shepherding results in enduring happiness for both the shepherd and the sheep. Those who are increasingly conformed to the image of Christ will invariably grow in joy. And shepherds who labor for the joy of others will share in that multiplied joy. Knowing that shepherds will have to give an account to God frees them from the fear of man. Joy is not bound up in accolades, hindered by criticism, or decided by physical circumstances. Instead, like Paul, we can rejoice as long as Christ is proclaimed, people are saved, and the church is conformed to the likeness of Jesus.<br />
<br />
Thus, Paul reminds us again in 2 Corinthians 1:24 that we labor and work with others, as he did, for their joy. And as their joy grows, so does our own. And as our joy grows, we shepherd in the joy of the Lord. Dutiful, dour, and begrudging shepherding satisfies no one — not the sheep and not the shepherd. Therefore, strive to be a happy-hearted shepherd of the people of God, multiplying the joy of others in Jesus.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Every_Marriage_Needs_a_MissionEvery Marriage Needs a Mission2023-02-15T20:06:45Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "Every Marriage Needs a Mission" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Three Steps for Husbands'''<br />
<br />
Our typical images of romantic, married love picture a couple facing each other, eyes locked in mutual affection. And for good reason.<br />
<br />
Adam’s first words to Eve were a serenade. In the Song of Solomon, the whole world serves as backdrop to the beauty of the beloved. And one day, our Lord Jesus will “present the church to ''himself'' in splendor” (Ephesians 5:27), a bride adorned and deeply adored. While friends typically stand “side by side, absorbed in some common interest,” C.S. Lewis writes, “lovers are normally face to face, absorbed in each other” (''The Four Loves'', 61).<br />
<br />
And yet, as most couples know, marriage calls for more than tender clasping. In fact, the inward gaze, if allowed to exclude all else, will turn sick; the Solomonic song will spiral out of tune. For from the beginning, God built into marriage another gaze, another song.<br />
<br />
When we hear the Lord God say, “It is ''not good'' that the man should be alone,” we may assume the not good refers to a relational lack, an emotional hole in Adam’s heart. No doubt Adam felt that lack, that hole. But God’s next words turn our eyes, surprisingly, to Adam’s ''vocational'' need: “I will make him ''a helper'' fit for him” (Genesis 2:18). God had given Adam an outward mission (Genesis 2:15–17), and Adam needed ''help''. He needed not only a face before him, but a shoulder beside him.<br />
<br />
Marriages today still need a mission. And that means men today still need a mission.<br />
<br />
'''Woman and Helper'''<br />
<br />
This dynamic picture of marriage, this inward and outward posture, finds beautiful expression in Eve’s two titles in Genesis 2. She is, on the one hand, ''woman''. When Adam awakes from his deep sleep, and finds his rib returned to him transfigured, he breaks out in verse:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>This at last is bone of my bones<br><br />
and flesh of my flesh;<br><br />
she shall be called Woman,<br><br />
because she was taken out of Man. (Genesis 2:23)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Lest we imagine marriage as a union of mere usefulness, a practical arrangement for the doing of tasks, God shows us the first husband ''singing'' the wonder of his wife. Here, standing before him, is ''woman'' — his own humanity refracted through the prism of triune diversity. She answers the longing of his heart, and he hers.<br />
<br />
Yet Eve is, on the other hand, ''helper''. When she enters Eden, she meets a man already on a mission to work and keep the garden under the authority of their Maker (Genesis 2:15–17). And then, together, she and her man receive the commission to “be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it” (Genesis 1:28). By God’s good design, the mission of the garden required not just one, but two; not just man, but woman. Adam needed a compatible co-regent, a queen to assist in his reign, a helper of the highest honor. Together, in complementary glory, they would garden the world.<br />
<br />
In the pattern of Genesis 2, then, a husband loves his wife as ''woman'', and he leads his wife as ''helper''. He waxes poetic about her beauty, and he labors with her beside him. He rises up to praise her (Proverbs 31:28–29), and he empowers her dominion (Proverbs 31:11–27). He embraces her as lover, and they stride forth as fellow rulers. Their inward romance, like the trunk of a great tree, branches up and out, bearing fruit for outward mission.<br />
<br />
'''Marriage on Mission'''<br />
<br />
Men today, of course, do not receive a direct, specific mission from God as Adam did. Nevertheless, God’s original pattern of creating a man, giving him a mission, and then granting him a wife as both woman and helper tells us much about God’s lasting designs for marriage.<br />
<br />
Today’s Adams may not have a literal garden to work and keep, but we have our own spheres for mission: homes to manage, children to father, churches to love and lead, jobs to work, and neighborhoods to reach for Christ. Each is a field to de-thorn and un-thistle, to plow and sow, to take dominion (Genesis 1:28) and make disciples (Matthew 28:18–20). And any honest man, gazing upon those fields, will agree with God’s ancient verdict: “It is not good that the man should be alone.”<br />
<br />
Some men, like the apostle Paul, will advance their mission unmarried, with the help that comes from friends and fellow laborers rather than a wife. Most, however, will follow the creation norm, and with their wives they will expand the garden of God’s kingdom in their surrounding spheres. Together, he and she will look with longing — at each other, and also at all the land around them, waiting to be claimed for Christ.<br />
<br />
Too often, I fear, I act as if the mission of marriage were simply ''marriage'' — that merely a happy home, and not also a happy world, were God’s aim in our union. I live like an arrow at home in the quiver, forgetting the feel of the bow, the rush of outward flight.<br />
<br />
How, then, might men like me recover, in Christ, the lost design of Genesis 2? How might husbands live with our wives as treasured women and as precious helpers, together building something beyond ourselves? I find help from a simple three-part framework: dream, draw, do.<br />
<br />
'''DREAM'''<br />
<br />
Adam’s leadership began with a vision of what could be: a garden worked and kept, an earth filled and subdued (Genesis 1:28; 2:15–17). A husband’s leadership, likewise, often begins with a dream. He looks out upon home, children, church, neighborhood, imagining what they might look like under the total lordship of Christ — and what he and his wife might do about it. How might they disciple the kids better? How might neighborhood hospitality become more routine? How might the family join the church for corporate prayer more often?<br />
<br />
Unlike the sluggard, who “does not plow in autumn,” and therefore “will seek at harvest and have nothing” (Proverbs 20:4), he takes thought for the future long before it comes — anticipating needs, discerning opportunities, noticing possible threats, and learning to plant and plow more faithfully in autumn. And as the seasons of family life change — as new children are born, as the kids grow, and as normal years run their course through spring, summer, fall, and winter — he keeps dreaming, developing fresh vision for the family’s various spheres.<br />
<br />
Any godly wife, of course, will do her fair share of dreaming too. She will feel a holy discontent and imagine better ways the family might fulfill their callings. A godly husband will cherish such dreams. As head of the home, however, he also will feel his special responsibility to take the family forward, rather than waiting for his wife to lead the charge. And so, he dreams — and as he dreams, he labors to ''draw'' her.<br />
<br />
'''DRAW'''<br />
<br />
If the responsibility to ''dream'' counteracts the passivity in a man, the calling to ''draw'' undermines any tendency he may have toward domineering leadership. As with Adam and Eve, God intends a couple’s mission to be theirs and not just his. So, with patience and tenderness, with wisdom and humility, a man draws his wife ''in'' and ''out''.<br />
<br />
In drawing her ''in'', he welcomes his wife into his dreaming — gathering her impressions, asking for her feedback, hearing her counsel. He knows his dreams are often incomplete and immature without her complementary perspective. He knows, too, that her dreams may often surpass his own in sound judgment. Like the Proverbs 31 woman, “she opens her mouth with wisdom” (Proverbs 31:26) — and he is not too insecure to hear it.<br />
<br />
In drawing his wife ''out'', he imagines how their mission together might make full use of her abilities. How might he draw out her strengths rather than diminish them, unleash her potential rather than cage it, see her bloom and flourish rather than wither? Or as Herman Bavinck writes, how might he help her assist him “in the fullest and broadest sense, physically and spiritually, with her wisdom and love, with her head and her heart” (''The Christian Family'', 6)?<br />
<br />
'''DO'''<br />
<br />
Finally, having dreamed for his family and drawn his wife, a husband ''does'' — he acts — taking the first steps toward the garden’s uncultivated edge. Practically, as John Piper has said, he seeks to be the one who says “let’s” most often: “Let’s gather the kids for family devotions.” “Let’s plan a block party for our neighbors.” “Let’s get away just the two of us.” “Let’s go early to serve at church this Sunday.”<br />
<br />
Some of us may find dreaming and drawing easier than actually doing. Adam seems to have: though he knew his mission and drew Eve into it, he failed to actually do it in the face of opposition (Genesis 3:6). ''Doing'' lays a burden on a man in the most inconvenient hours, attacking his laziness and selfish use of time, calling for energy after long workdays, bidding him rise and step when he would rather sit. I need help remembering that family leadership is not a one-time vision, a momentary inspiration, but a day-in, day-out pursuit, a fashioning of dreams from difficult moments.<br />
<br />
Can a wife take initiative in similar ways? Yes, she can — and sometimes should. Just because her husband says “let’s” most doesn’t mean she never does. But what a gift to a home, and what a reflection of Christ, when a man acts as the first mover most of the time.<br />
<br />
The mission of marriage calls for all of a man. And therefore, it calls for a man to give all of his heart to God, and submit all of his life to Christ, and yield all of his will to the Spirit. Such an all-in, all-out man will embrace his wife ''as woman'': his perfect match, his lily of the valley, his home on earth, his heart’s best song. And he also will embrace her ''as helper'': his lover on mission, his indispensable partner, his queen with crown and scepter. And so he will love her, and so he will lead her.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Every_Marriage_Needs_a_MissionEvery Marriage Needs a Mission2023-02-15T20:06:37Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''Three Steps for Husbands''' Our typical images of romantic, married love picture a couple facing each other, eyes locked in mutual affection. And for good reason. Ad...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Three Steps for Husbands'''<br />
<br />
Our typical images of romantic, married love picture a couple facing each other, eyes locked in mutual affection. And for good reason.<br />
<br />
Adam’s first words to Eve were a serenade. In the Song of Solomon, the whole world serves as backdrop to the beauty of the beloved. And one day, our Lord Jesus will “present the church to ''himself'' in splendor” (Ephesians 5:27), a bride adorned and deeply adored. While friends typically stand “side by side, absorbed in some common interest,” C.S. Lewis writes, “lovers are normally face to face, absorbed in each other” (''The Four Loves'', 61).<br />
<br />
And yet, as most couples know, marriage calls for more than tender clasping. In fact, the inward gaze, if allowed to exclude all else, will turn sick; the Solomonic song will spiral out of tune. For from the beginning, God built into marriage another gaze, another song.<br />
<br />
When we hear the Lord God say, “It is ''not good'' that the man should be alone,” we may assume the not good refers to a relational lack, an emotional hole in Adam’s heart. No doubt Adam felt that lack, that hole. But God’s next words turn our eyes, surprisingly, to Adam’s ''vocational'' need: “I will make him ''a helper'' fit for him” (Genesis 2:18). God had given Adam an outward mission (Genesis 2:15–17), and Adam needed ''help''. He needed not only a face before him, but a shoulder beside him.<br />
<br />
Marriages today still need a mission. And that means men today still need a mission.<br />
<br />
'''Woman and Helper'''<br />
<br />
This dynamic picture of marriage, this inward and outward posture, finds beautiful expression in Eve’s two titles in Genesis 2. She is, on the one hand, ''woman''. When Adam awakes from his deep sleep, and finds his rib returned to him transfigured, he breaks out in verse:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>This at last is bone of my bones<br><br />
and flesh of my flesh;<br><br />
she shall be called Woman,<br><br />
because she was taken out of Man. (Genesis 2:23)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Lest we imagine marriage as a union of mere usefulness, a practical arrangement for the doing of tasks, God shows us the first husband ''singing'' the wonder of his wife. Here, standing before him, is ''woman'' — his own humanity refracted through the prism of triune diversity. She answers the longing of his heart, and he hers.<br />
<br />
Yet Eve is, on the other hand, ''helper''. When she enters Eden, she meets a man already on a mission to work and keep the garden under the authority of their Maker (Genesis 2:15–17). And then, together, she and her man receive the commission to “be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it” (Genesis 1:28). By God’s good design, the mission of the garden required not just one, but two; not just man, but woman. Adam needed a compatible co-regent, a queen to assist in his reign, a helper of the highest honor. Together, in complementary glory, they would garden the world.<br />
<br />
In the pattern of Genesis 2, then, a husband loves his wife as ''woman'', and he leads his wife as ''helper''. He waxes poetic about her beauty, and he labors with her beside him. He rises up to praise her (Proverbs 31:28–29), and he empowers her dominion (Proverbs 31:11–27). He embraces her as lover, and they stride forth as fellow rulers. Their inward romance, like the trunk of a great tree, branches up and out, bearing fruit for outward mission.<br />
<br />
'''Marriage on Mission'''<br />
<br />
Men today, of course, do not receive a direct, specific mission from God as Adam did. Nevertheless, God’s original pattern of creating a man, giving him a mission, and then granting him a wife as both woman and helper tells us much about God’s lasting designs for marriage.<br />
<br />
Today’s Adams may not have a literal garden to work and keep, but we have our own spheres for mission: homes to manage, children to father, churches to love and lead, jobs to work, and neighborhoods to reach for Christ. Each is a field to de-thorn and un-thistle, to plow and sow, to take dominion (Genesis 1:28) and make disciples (Matthew 28:18–20). And any honest man, gazing upon those fields, will agree with God’s ancient verdict: “It is not good that the man should be alone.”<br />
<br />
Some men, like the apostle Paul, will advance their mission unmarried, with the help that comes from friends and fellow laborers rather than a wife. Most, however, will follow the creation norm, and with their wives they will expand the garden of God’s kingdom in their surrounding spheres. Together, he and she will look with longing — at each other, and also at all the land around them, waiting to be claimed for Christ.<br />
<br />
Too often, I fear, I act as if the mission of marriage were simply ''marriage'' — that merely a happy home, and not also a happy world, were God’s aim in our union. I live like an arrow at home in the quiver, forgetting the feel of the bow, the rush of outward flight.<br />
<br />
How, then, might men like me recover, in Christ, the lost design of Genesis 2? How might husbands live with our wives as treasured women and as precious helpers, together building something beyond ourselves? I find help from a simple three-part framework: dream, draw, do.<br />
<br />
'''DREAM'''<br />
<br />
Adam’s leadership began with a vision of what could be: a garden worked and kept, an earth filled and subdued (Genesis 1:28; 2:15–17). A husband’s leadership, likewise, often begins with a dream. He looks out upon home, children, church, neighborhood, imagining what they might look like under the total lordship of Christ — and what he and his wife might do about it. How might they disciple the kids better? How might neighborhood hospitality become more routine? How might the family join the church for corporate prayer more often?<br />
<br />
Unlike the sluggard, who “does not plow in autumn,” and therefore “will seek at harvest and have nothing” (Proverbs 20:4), he takes thought for the future long before it comes — anticipating needs, discerning opportunities, noticing possible threats, and learning to plant and plow more faithfully in autumn. And as the seasons of family life change — as new children are born, as the kids grow, and as normal years run their course through spring, summer, fall, and winter — he keeps dreaming, developing fresh vision for the family’s various spheres.<br />
<br />
Any godly wife, of course, will do her fair share of dreaming too. She will feel a holy discontent and imagine better ways the family might fulfill their callings. A godly husband will cherish such dreams. As head of the home, however, he also will feel his special responsibility to take the family forward, rather than waiting for his wife to lead the charge. And so, he dreams — and as he dreams, he labors to ''draw'' her.<br />
<br />
'''DRAW'''<br />
<br />
If the responsibility to ''dream'' counteracts the passivity in a man, the calling to ''draw'' undermines any tendency he may have toward domineering leadership. As with Adam and Eve, God intends a couple’s mission to be theirs and not just his. So, with patience and tenderness, with wisdom and humility, a man draws his wife ''in'' and ''out''.<br />
<br />
In drawing her ''in'', he welcomes his wife into his dreaming — gathering her impressions, asking for her feedback, hearing her counsel. He knows his dreams are often incomplete and immature without her complementary perspective. He knows, too, that her dreams may often surpass his own in sound judgment. Like the Proverbs 31 woman, “she opens her mouth with wisdom” (Proverbs 31:26) — and he is not too insecure to hear it.<br />
<br />
In drawing his wife ''out'', he imagines how their mission together might make full use of her abilities. How might he draw out her strengths rather than diminish them, unleash her potential rather than cage it, see her bloom and flourish rather than wither? Or as Herman Bavinck writes, how might he help her assist him “in the fullest and broadest sense, physically and spiritually, with her wisdom and love, with her head and her heart” (''The Christian Family'', 6)?<br />
<br />
'''DO'''<br />
<br />
Finally, having dreamed for his family and drawn his wife, a husband ''does'' — he acts — taking the first steps toward the garden’s uncultivated edge. Practically, as John Piper has said, he seeks to be the one who says “let’s” most often: “Let’s gather the kids for family devotions.” “Let’s plan a block party for our neighbors.” “Let’s get away just the two of us.” “Let’s go early to serve at church this Sunday.”<br />
<br />
Some of us may find dreaming and drawing easier than actually doing. Adam seems to have: though he knew his mission and drew Eve into it, he failed to actually do it in the face of opposition (Genesis 3:6). ''Doing'' lays a burden on a man in the most inconvenient hours, attacking his laziness and selfish use of time, calling for energy after long workdays, bidding him rise and step when he would rather sit. I need help remembering that family leadership is not a one-time vision, a momentary inspiration, but a day-in, day-out pursuit, a fashioning of dreams from difficult moments.<br />
<br />
Can a wife take initiative in similar ways? Yes, she can — and sometimes should. Just because her husband says “let’s” most doesn’t mean she never does. But what a gift to a home, and what a reflection of Christ, when a man acts as the first mover most of the time.<br />
<br />
The mission of marriage calls for all of a man. And therefore, it calls for a man to give all of his heart to God, and submit all of his life to Christ, and yield all of his will to the Spirit. Such an all-in, all-out man will embrace his wife ''as woman'': his perfect match, his lily of the valley, his home on earth, his heart’s best song. And he also will embrace her ''as helper'': his lover on mission, his indispensable partner, his queen with crown and scepter. And so he will love her, and so he will lead her.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Beneath_the_Mountain_of_SmokeBeneath the Mountain of Smoke2023-02-15T19:59:04Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "Beneath the Mountain of Smoke" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Recovering the Awe of Worship'''<br />
<br />
What happens every Sunday when the church gathers? We meet with God. Do such words still hold weight for you?<br />
<br />
Some of us arrive late and sneak in the back. During songs we don’t prefer, we wonder what’s for lunch. If tears fill our eyes, they stream from yawns between choruses. We finally get to sit down so we can listen to sneezy Bill try to survive another congregational prayer. As the preacher mounts the pulpit, we “hear from Almighty God” and doodle in the margins of the bulletin. We sing a few more times, perhaps receive communion, and then wrestle our kids out of the door to get them fed and down for naps.<br />
<br />
My contention (and sad experience) is that the drama of meeting with God every week can be so hijacked by carelessness, worldliness, and unbelief. Too often we saunter into church drowsily and distractedly and leave as we came. We are too often Elisha’s servant. When he woke up and saw Syrian chariots surrounding the city, he cried, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” “Do not be afraid,” came the reply, “for those who are with us are more than those who are with them” (2 Kings 6:16). The man of God prays for him, “O Lord, please open his eyes that he may see” (2 Kings 6:17). God answered, and he sees the hillside anew: “the mountain full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha” (2 Kings 6:17).<br />
<br />
Until then, the servant could not see the spiritual realm. Too often on Sunday mornings, neither can we. We look around the congregation and see nothing upon the hills. O Lord, please open our eyes.<br />
<br />
'''Upon Eagle’s Wings'''<br />
<br />
We all might learn something from watching Israel draw near to God for the first time.<br />
<br />
From the burning bush, God promised Moses, “I will be with you, and this shall be the sign for you, that I have sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall serve God on this mountain” (Exodus 3:12). Through mighty plagues, a splitting sea, several battles, and a few tests, they had finally arrived at that mountain to worship.<br />
<br />
The meeting with their Great Redeemer was set. Three days and God would meet with them at Horeb. In the meantime, they needed to prepare. “Go to the people and consecrate them today and tomorrow, and let them wash their garments and be ready for the third day” (Exodus 19:10–11). In the meantime, God sent his people a message dipped in myrrh:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>You yourselves have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bore you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself. Now therefore, if you will indeed obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession among all peoples, for all the earth is mine; and you shall be to me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation. (Exodus 19:3–6)</blockquote><br />
<br />
As a mighty eagle, their God reminds them how he swooped down into the land of Egypt and lifted them from their groveling life of slavery. His actions and message drip with good intentions. He saved them to bring them to himself, to make them his special kingdom. He rescued them to bless them, bore them up on eagle’s wings, and treasured them above all others.<br />
<br />
'''Draw Near the Mountain'''<br />
<br />
Finally, the third day arrived. With garments washed and boundaries around the mountain strictly observed, the people arrive consecrated and ready to meet their unseen God.<br />
<br />
None, however, could truly prepare to meet this God. “On the morning of the third day there were thunders and lightnings and a thick cloud on the mountain and a very loud trumpet blast, so that all the people in the camp trembled” (Exodus 19:16). Their Lord descended in flaming fire. “The whole mountain trembled greatly” (Exodus 19:18). Triviality and levity shattered in the quake. As the trumpet blast grew louder and louder, “Moses spoke, and God answered him in thunder” (Exodus 19:19).<br />
<br />
God then booms his Ten Commandments. He spoke from the blaze, erupting from the darkness of the mountain. The people could not endure the sound,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Now when all the people saw the thunder and the flashes of lightning and the sound of the trumpet and the mountain smoking, the people were afraid and trembled, and they stood far off and said to Moses, “You speak to us, and we will listen; but do not let God speak to us, lest we die.” (Exodus 20:18–19)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The sight of their gracious God would kill them; his unmediated voice would break them. “Do not fear,” Moses consoles them, “for God has come to test you, that the fear of him may be before you, that you may not sin” (Exodus 20:20).<br />
<br />
'''Where Has Wonder Gone?'''<br />
<br />
How different is this experience of drawing near to God from our normal experience of worship on Sunday morning? Important discontinuities exist, yet the questions remain: Is there any evidence of us drawing near to anything like this living God? Does our pulse ever quicken? Has he changed his complexion so drastically by sending his Son? Are wonder, reverence, awe, thoughtfulness, carefulness, and seriousness no longer befitting his worship?<br />
<br />
If you’re like me, you too seldom consider the grand things we profess to be doing. How do we then worship God in holy reverence? How do we see the God who Is, rather than the god of our comfort and carelessness?<br />
<br />
Practical considerations can be drawn from this first meeting. Like Israel, we can dedicate time to prepare to meet with God. “Let them be ready” should be our command as well. Study the sermon text beforehand. Pray until your heart is tenderized to meet with God and his people. Repent of any known sin. Abstain from heart-numbing activities leading up to Sunday, and by all means, don’t cut your sleep short to indulge them. Dress in a respectable manner. If possible, arrive early and unhurried. Meditate beforehand on God’s great redemption in Christ — our only means to meet with God and live.<br />
<br />
But alongside these, I wish to consult your holy imagination, as the author of Hebrews does when he reads this scene in the Old Testament.<br />
<br />
'''Tale of Two Mountains'''<br />
<br />
The author of Hebrews brings the new-covenant people back to Horeb in order to teach them about drawing near to God. Unlike Israel, he tells us,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>You have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempest and the sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that no further messages be spoken to them. . . . Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.” (Hebrews 12:18–19)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Rather, in Christ’s new covenant,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>You have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel. (Hebrews 12:22–24)</blockquote><br />
<br />
We now draw near to the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God, where countless angels and the redeemed saints gather with merry reverence — and to Jesus, the great mediator of the covenant, whose blood secures our place with him in heaven. Through him, we glimpse the countless chariots on the hillside celebrating the accomplishment of Christ’s atonement.<br />
<br />
'''Will You Refuse or Revere?'''<br />
<br />
How do we draw near to God in worship this Sunday? What is it like to again come, on earth, with God’s people to the heavenly Zion?<br />
<br />
The author of Hebrews concludes his tale of two mountains this way:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>See that you do not refuse him who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much less will we escape if we reject him who warns from heaven. (Hebrews 12:25)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Notice, the stakes rise in the new covenant, not fall. The refusal becomes more severe, not less. Worship is not more laxed or frivolous or casual or light.<br />
<br />
He lands,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire. (Hebrews 12:28–29)</blockquote><br />
<br />
We, like Israel, draw near to a consuming fire — one whose flame devours all froth and presumption. He is good, not safe. Like Israel, we draw near to a great God solely on his terms and within his boundaries — by his Spirit, in his truth, covered in Jesus’s atoning blood. Our worship, then, will be heavy with thanksgiving and happiness, with holy fear and wonder. For this Sunday, we gather joyfully and fearfully together to worship before the Fire who is our God, and we meet him — really — and do so with reverence and awe.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Beneath_the_Mountain_of_SmokeBeneath the Mountain of Smoke2023-02-15T19:58:55Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''Recovering the Awe of Worship''' What happens every Sunday when the church gathers? We meet with God. Do such words still hold weight for you? Some of us arrive late...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Recovering the Awe of Worship'''<br />
<br />
What happens every Sunday when the church gathers? We meet with God. Do such words still hold weight for you?<br />
<br />
Some of us arrive late and sneak in the back. During songs we don’t prefer, we wonder what’s for lunch. If tears fill our eyes, they stream from yawns between choruses. We finally get to sit down so we can listen to sneezy Bill try to survive another congregational prayer. As the preacher mounts the pulpit, we “hear from Almighty God” and doodle in the margins of the bulletin. We sing a few more times, perhaps receive communion, and then wrestle our kids out of the door to get them fed and down for naps.<br />
<br />
My contention (and sad experience) is that the drama of meeting with God every week can be so hijacked by carelessness, worldliness, and unbelief. Too often we saunter into church drowsily and distractedly and leave as we came. We are too often Elisha’s servant. When he woke up and saw Syrian chariots surrounding the city, he cried, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” “Do not be afraid,” came the reply, “for those who are with us are more than those who are with them” (2 Kings 6:16). The man of God prays for him, “O Lord, please open his eyes that he may see” (2 Kings 6:17). God answered, and he sees the hillside anew: “the mountain full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha” (2 Kings 6:17).<br />
<br />
Until then, the servant could not see the spiritual realm. Too often on Sunday mornings, neither can we. We look around the congregation and see nothing upon the hills. O Lord, please open our eyes.<br />
<br />
'''Upon Eagle’s Wings'''<br />
<br />
We all might learn something from watching Israel draw near to God for the first time.<br />
<br />
From the burning bush, God promised Moses, “I will be with you, and this shall be the sign for you, that I have sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall serve God on this mountain” (Exodus 3:12). Through mighty plagues, a splitting sea, several battles, and a few tests, they had finally arrived at that mountain to worship.<br />
<br />
The meeting with their Great Redeemer was set. Three days and God would meet with them at Horeb. In the meantime, they needed to prepare. “Go to the people and consecrate them today and tomorrow, and let them wash their garments and be ready for the third day” (Exodus 19:10–11). In the meantime, God sent his people a message dipped in myrrh:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>You yourselves have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bore you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself. Now therefore, if you will indeed obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession among all peoples, for all the earth is mine; and you shall be to me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation. (Exodus 19:3–6)</blockquote><br />
<br />
As a mighty eagle, their God reminds them how he swooped down into the land of Egypt and lifted them from their groveling life of slavery. His actions and message drip with good intentions. He saved them to bring them to himself, to make them his special kingdom. He rescued them to bless them, bore them up on eagle’s wings, and treasured them above all others.<br />
<br />
'''Draw Near the Mountain'''<br />
<br />
Finally, the third day arrived. With garments washed and boundaries around the mountain strictly observed, the people arrive consecrated and ready to meet their unseen God.<br />
<br />
None, however, could truly prepare to meet this God. “On the morning of the third day there were thunders and lightnings and a thick cloud on the mountain and a very loud trumpet blast, so that all the people in the camp trembled” (Exodus 19:16). Their Lord descended in flaming fire. “The whole mountain trembled greatly” (Exodus 19:18). Triviality and levity shattered in the quake. As the trumpet blast grew louder and louder, “Moses spoke, and God answered him in thunder” (Exodus 19:19).<br />
<br />
God then booms his Ten Commandments. He spoke from the blaze, erupting from the darkness of the mountain. The people could not endure the sound,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Now when all the people saw the thunder and the flashes of lightning and the sound of the trumpet and the mountain smoking, the people were afraid and trembled, and they stood far off and said to Moses, “You speak to us, and we will listen; but do not let God speak to us, lest we die.” (Exodus 20:18–19)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The sight of their gracious God would kill them; his unmediated voice would break them. “Do not fear,” Moses consoles them, “for God has come to test you, that the fear of him may be before you, that you may not sin” (Exodus 20:20).<br />
<br />
'''Where Has Wonder Gone?'''<br />
<br />
How different is this experience of drawing near to God from our normal experience of worship on Sunday morning? Important discontinuities exist, yet the questions remain: Is there any evidence of us drawing near to anything like this living God? Does our pulse ever quicken? Has he changed his complexion so drastically by sending his Son? Are wonder, reverence, awe, thoughtfulness, carefulness, and seriousness no longer befitting his worship?<br />
<br />
If you’re like me, you too seldom consider the grand things we profess to be doing. How do we then worship God in holy reverence? How do we see the God who Is, rather than the god of our comfort and carelessness?<br />
<br />
Practical considerations can be drawn from this first meeting. Like Israel, we can dedicate time to prepare to meet with God. “Let them be ready” should be our command as well. Study the sermon text beforehand. Pray until your heart is tenderized to meet with God and his people. Repent of any known sin. Abstain from heart-numbing activities leading up to Sunday, and by all means, don’t cut your sleep short to indulge them. Dress in a respectable manner. If possible, arrive early and unhurried. Meditate beforehand on God’s great redemption in Christ — our only means to meet with God and live.<br />
<br />
But alongside these, I wish to consult your holy imagination, as the author of Hebrews does when he reads this scene in the Old Testament.<br />
<br />
'''Tale of Two Mountains'''<br />
<br />
The author of Hebrews brings the new-covenant people back to Horeb in order to teach them about drawing near to God. Unlike Israel, he tells us,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>You have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempest and the sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that no further messages be spoken to them. . . . Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.” (Hebrews 12:18–19)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Rather, in Christ’s new covenant,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>You have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel. (Hebrews 12:22–24)</blockquote><br />
<br />
We now draw near to the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God, where countless angels and the redeemed saints gather with merry reverence — and to Jesus, the great mediator of the covenant, whose blood secures our place with him in heaven. Through him, we glimpse the countless chariots on the hillside celebrating the accomplishment of Christ’s atonement.<br />
<br />
'''Will You Refuse or Revere?'''<br />
<br />
How do we draw near to God in worship this Sunday? What is it like to again come, on earth, with God’s people to the heavenly Zion?<br />
<br />
The author of Hebrews concludes his tale of two mountains this way:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>See that you do not refuse him who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much less will we escape if we reject him who warns from heaven. (Hebrews 12:25)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Notice, the stakes rise in the new covenant, not fall. The refusal becomes more severe, not less. Worship is not more laxed or frivolous or casual or light.<br />
<br />
He lands,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire. (Hebrews 12:28–29)</blockquote><br />
<br />
We, like Israel, draw near to a consuming fire — one whose flame devours all froth and presumption. He is good, not safe. Like Israel, we draw near to a great God solely on his terms and within his boundaries — by his Spirit, in his truth, covered in Jesus’s atoning blood. Our worship, then, will be heavy with thanksgiving and happiness, with holy fear and wonder. For this Sunday, we gather joyfully and fearfully together to worship before the Fire who is our God, and we meet him — really — and do so with reverence and awe.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/The_Resilient_MotherThe Resilient Mother2023-02-15T19:48:54Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "The Resilient Mother" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''How We Bend Without Breaking'''<br />
<br />
Along the wooded trail behind my home, a birch tree arches in a graceful curve as it stretches across the pathway. It’s a veteran of a good many northern New England ice storms and knows what it is to bow low under a weight of snow and frozen rain. Even though its tip-top branches have bent to mere feet above the frozen ground, it has not broken under its load. Today, with the remnants of broken maples and oaks all around, it stands, and my imagination construes a doorway as I walk the path beneath its welcome.<br />
<br />
James labels this brand of gritty perseverance as ''steadfastness'' in the life of a believer. He’s writing to Christians who have felt the icy blast of persecution, resulting in “trials of various kinds,” and he urges them to cooperate with God’s bending and shaping methods embedded in those trials (James 1:2–3).<br />
<br />
God works the sanctifying miracle of becoming “perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” according to his own wise design, and for me, mothering four rowdy sons (who have grown into godly men) has been the force God has used to produce the bent-birch resilience I long for. Two vital components of my Christ-following life have been involved as God works in me to “let steadfastness have its full effect” (James 1:4).<br />
<br />
'''Theology Empowers Resilient Moms'''<br />
<br />
When mothers are brittle and fragile, we snap, and the sharp edges of our breaking wound our families and leave us full of regret. Perseverance in strong habits of holiness keeps us connected with God’s word and rooted in what is true about God’s character. He’s in control. He’s good. He’s never taken by surprise.<br />
<br />
Good theology enables moms to interpret our circumstances according to what we know and believe about God instead of drawing false conclusions about God based on our circumstances. The understanding that God is as near to us as our next breath, and that his motives toward us are absolutely pure, comes from immersion in God’s self-revelation.<br />
<br />
Of course, we can claim the huge and generous promises of Scripture only if we ''know'' them. God has said he will “keep [us] in perfect peace” when we fix our minds on him (Isaiah 26:3). He has said his “grace is sufficient” and his “power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). God’s promises of faithfulness to his much-loved children are the foundation for our own steadfast faith. He promises to use Scripture to encourage and sustain us, but we cannot claim what we do not know (Psalm 19:7–9).<br />
<br />
Furthermore, a right understanding of God’s nature and character yields a right understanding of my own value and identity. If I am not defined by an impressive job title or a flashy résumé (or by the lack of it), I can bend to perform the lowliest tasks without complaining. Like Christ, I can take up the basin and the towel and serve others without being (or feeling) diminished.<br />
<br />
I’m inspired by the example of pioneer missionary Amy Carmichael. She left a role she loved — traveling throughout India with a team of itinerant evangelists — when God called her to establish an orphanage for children who were being trafficked. In her new role as “mother” to hundreds of children at a time, she washed diapers by hand, mixed baby formulas, and over the course of her career must have clipped thousands of tiny fingernails and toenails.<br />
<br />
The way we think about the work of motherhood shapes the hope we bring to each day’s workload, and it is crucial to our ability to overcome discouragement. When I was hanging little socks and, eventually, very big socks on the clothesline, I put my mind to the business of praying for the boys who would wear those socks to rags.<br />
<br />
When I wondered if I would survive the monotony of homeschooling and housework, I tried (imperfectly) to remember that I was creating a home and a life for the people I love. God is the first and best Homemaker. Therefore, homemaking is holy work.<br />
<br />
Good theology also schools resilient moms in the truth that there’s a time to bend and there’s a time to persevere, unbending, in the face of temptation or the lure of false teaching. We are “elect exiles,” immersed in a hostile society that invites us to bend the knee to its false gods (1 Peter 1:1). The Spirit of God travels with us, imparting wisdom for life and assuring us that resilient mothering may wear a different look every day.<br />
<br />
'''Community Supports Resilient Moms'''<br />
<br />
On one particularly hard mothering morning, the baby was cranky, the toddler was fractious, and my two homeschooled students seemed determined to squander their opportunity to receive a solid Christian education. Then the phone rang. My friend Susan was calling with a quick question about something at church. I answered her question, and we said goodbye.<br />
<br />
Seconds after I hung up, the phone rang again. Susan had been prompted by the Holy Spirit to check on me, and I’m not proud of the conversation that followed.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>''Susan'' [''warmly concerned and following Christ’s command to love her neighbor'']: “Are you okay? I thought I heard something in your voice just now. I’m wondering if there’s anything I can do to help.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>''Michele'' [''embarrassed and lying to preserve the appearance of competence'']: “Thank you so much for your concern. [''Using my best, pulled-together church-lady voice''] I’m actually fine — but I sure appreciate your checking on me.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
Choosing to soldier on alone, I forfeited the gift of community.<br />
<br />
My friend was a seasoned mother of four who could have spoken wisdom to my tired soul. Her own children were all older than my oldest son, and she would have welcomed the opportunity to hold my baby or read to my toddler.<br />
<br />
Friendship is a school, a place of formation and cultivation, but being in school requires time and work. Resilient mothers will allow friends into their brokenness because, sometimes, in order to have the gift of comfort from fellow believers, we have to take the emotional risk of letting them know how we’re ''really'' doing.<br />
<br />
This includes seeking and valuing input from our husband as well. As “heirs together of the grace of life” (1 Peter 3:7), we are called to parent together. So seek your husband’s counsel. Let him care for you as Christ cares for his church.<br />
<br />
As moms, we tend to have our fingers on the pulse of our families. It can feel very risky to let go of your white-knuckle control of the schedule, activities, and tone of your home, but what a lonely and overwhelming assignment to try to be and do all things when we have been given the gift of a husband and fellow parent.<br />
<br />
'''Weathered Motherhood'''<br />
<br />
Today, as an older woman, I am called to nurture resilience in the young women God has placed within my circle of influence (Titus 2:3–5). Alongside them, I continue to scale the learning curve of resilience and to take God’s grace for the glad surrender of obedience.<br />
<br />
The resilient mother knows that godly mothering is a byproduct of the slow burn of faithfulness. She is well aware that resilience is not her claim on Christ, but, rather, the evidence of his claim on her.<br />
<br />
The bent birch here on my wooded path is not as tall or as straight as a tree that has never weathered a Maine winter, but its arching perseverance schools me in the hope that follows a weathered storm. In its deeply rooted resilience, I see the wisdom of bending.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/The_Resilient_MotherThe Resilient Mother2023-02-15T19:48:45Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''How We Bend Without Breaking''' Along the wooded trail behind my home, a birch tree arches in a graceful curve as it stretches across the pathway. It’s a veteran of...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''How We Bend Without Breaking'''<br />
<br />
Along the wooded trail behind my home, a birch tree arches in a graceful curve as it stretches across the pathway. It’s a veteran of a good many northern New England ice storms and knows what it is to bow low under a weight of snow and frozen rain. Even though its tip-top branches have bent to mere feet above the frozen ground, it has not broken under its load. Today, with the remnants of broken maples and oaks all around, it stands, and my imagination construes a doorway as I walk the path beneath its welcome.<br />
<br />
James labels this brand of gritty perseverance as ''steadfastness'' in the life of a believer. He’s writing to Christians who have felt the icy blast of persecution, resulting in “trials of various kinds,” and he urges them to cooperate with God’s bending and shaping methods embedded in those trials (James 1:2–3).<br />
<br />
God works the sanctifying miracle of becoming “perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” according to his own wise design, and for me, mothering four rowdy sons (who have grown into godly men) has been the force God has used to produce the bent-birch resilience I long for. Two vital components of my Christ-following life have been involved as God works in me to “let steadfastness have its full effect” (James 1:4).<br />
<br />
'''Theology Empowers Resilient Moms'''<br />
<br />
When mothers are brittle and fragile, we snap, and the sharp edges of our breaking wound our families and leave us full of regret. Perseverance in strong habits of holiness keeps us connected with God’s word and rooted in what is true about God’s character. He’s in control. He’s good. He’s never taken by surprise.<br />
<br />
Good theology enables moms to interpret our circumstances according to what we know and believe about God instead of drawing false conclusions about God based on our circumstances. The understanding that God is as near to us as our next breath, and that his motives toward us are absolutely pure, comes from immersion in God’s self-revelation.<br />
<br />
Of course, we can claim the huge and generous promises of Scripture only if we ''know'' them. God has said he will “keep [us] in perfect peace” when we fix our minds on him (Isaiah 26:3). He has said his “grace is sufficient” and his “power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). God’s promises of faithfulness to his much-loved children are the foundation for our own steadfast faith. He promises to use Scripture to encourage and sustain us, but we cannot claim what we do not know (Psalm 19:7–9).<br />
<br />
Furthermore, a right understanding of God’s nature and character yields a right understanding of my own value and identity. If I am not defined by an impressive job title or a flashy résumé (or by the lack of it), I can bend to perform the lowliest tasks without complaining. Like Christ, I can take up the basin and the towel and serve others without being (or feeling) diminished.<br />
<br />
I’m inspired by the example of pioneer missionary Amy Carmichael. She left a role she loved — traveling throughout India with a team of itinerant evangelists — when God called her to establish an orphanage for children who were being trafficked. In her new role as “mother” to hundreds of children at a time, she washed diapers by hand, mixed baby formulas, and over the course of her career must have clipped thousands of tiny fingernails and toenails.<br />
<br />
The way we think about the work of motherhood shapes the hope we bring to each day’s workload, and it is crucial to our ability to overcome discouragement. When I was hanging little socks and, eventually, very big socks on the clothesline, I put my mind to the business of praying for the boys who would wear those socks to rags.<br />
<br />
When I wondered if I would survive the monotony of homeschooling and housework, I tried (imperfectly) to remember that I was creating a home and a life for the people I love. God is the first and best Homemaker. Therefore, homemaking is holy work.<br />
<br />
Good theology also schools resilient moms in the truth that there’s a time to bend and there’s a time to persevere, unbending, in the face of temptation or the lure of false teaching. We are “elect exiles,” immersed in a hostile society that invites us to bend the knee to its false gods (1 Peter 1:1). The Spirit of God travels with us, imparting wisdom for life and assuring us that resilient mothering may wear a different look every day.<br />
<br />
'''Community Supports Resilient Moms'''<br />
<br />
On one particularly hard mothering morning, the baby was cranky, the toddler was fractious, and my two homeschooled students seemed determined to squander their opportunity to receive a solid Christian education. Then the phone rang. My friend Susan was calling with a quick question about something at church. I answered her question, and we said goodbye.<br />
<br />
Seconds after I hung up, the phone rang again. Susan had been prompted by the Holy Spirit to check on me, and I’m not proud of the conversation that followed.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>''Susan'' [''warmly concerned and following Christ’s command to love her neighbor'']: “Are you okay? I thought I heard something in your voice just now. I’m wondering if there’s anything I can do to help.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>''Michele'' [''embarrassed and lying to preserve the appearance of competence'']: “Thank you so much for your concern. [''Using my best, pulled-together church-lady voice''] I’m actually fine — but I sure appreciate your checking on me.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
Choosing to soldier on alone, I forfeited the gift of community.<br />
<br />
My friend was a seasoned mother of four who could have spoken wisdom to my tired soul. Her own children were all older than my oldest son, and she would have welcomed the opportunity to hold my baby or read to my toddler.<br />
<br />
Friendship is a school, a place of formation and cultivation, but being in school requires time and work. Resilient mothers will allow friends into their brokenness because, sometimes, in order to have the gift of comfort from fellow believers, we have to take the emotional risk of letting them know how we’re ''really'' doing.<br />
<br />
This includes seeking and valuing input from our husband as well. As “heirs together of the grace of life” (1 Peter 3:7), we are called to parent together. So seek your husband’s counsel. Let him care for you as Christ cares for his church.<br />
<br />
As moms, we tend to have our fingers on the pulse of our families. It can feel very risky to let go of your white-knuckle control of the schedule, activities, and tone of your home, but what a lonely and overwhelming assignment to try to be and do all things when we have been given the gift of a husband and fellow parent.<br />
<br />
'''Weathered Motherhood'''<br />
<br />
Today, as an older woman, I am called to nurture resilience in the young women God has placed within my circle of influence (Titus 2:3–5). Alongside them, I continue to scale the learning curve of resilience and to take God’s grace for the glad surrender of obedience.<br />
<br />
The resilient mother knows that godly mothering is a byproduct of the slow burn of faithfulness. She is well aware that resilience is not her claim on Christ, but, rather, the evidence of his claim on her.<br />
<br />
The bent birch here on my wooded path is not as tall or as straight as a tree that has never weathered a Maine winter, but its arching perseverance schools me in the hope that follows a weathered storm. In its deeply rooted resilience, I see the wisdom of bending.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Friends_Who_Fell_AwayFriends Who Fell Away2023-02-15T19:44:48Z<p>Kathyyee: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''When Apostasy Comes Close to Home'''<br />
<br />
The memories, on most days, seem better left forgotten. Never has remembering sweet Bible studies tasted so bitter. Flashbacks of late-night conversations and time spent in prayer press inconsiderately upon the wound. In that large group, I can still hear his profession of faith echo. I thought I heard angels sing at his surrender. So long we had prayed for his salvation. ''Now, he no longer walks with Jesus.''<br />
<br />
The grief of false conversions.<br />
<br />
“''They'' went out from us, but ''they'' were not of us; for if ''they'' had been of us, ''they'' would have continued with us” (1 John 2:19). They. We knew them by another name: friend, spouse, mother, son. Each sang with us in church, confessed to be the Savior’s, renounced the world and Satan at baptism — but only for a time.<br />
<br />
Our prayers, we thought, were finally answered. Their souls, we thought, were finally saved. Our joy, we thought, was finally complete. The prodigal son returned home — ''and left again''. The difference between a comedy and a tragedy, some say, is where you place the period. Their faith, at best, led only to a semicolon; what a horrible independent clause came next: “They went out from us.”<br />
<br />
'''How the Gospel Dies in a Soul'''<br />
<br />
Jesus tells the tragedies of our daughters, our best friends, our parents, in his parable of the sower.<br />
<br />
The parable is familiar. The sower scatters seed on four soils. Some falls on the path — where the hateful bird, Satan, steals it before it can be understood. Such are those who dismiss the gospel as foolishness and never pretend to believe. The fourth soil is the good soil, the true soil, the one who receives the Christ by faith and holds to him, the genuine Christian. But the second and third soils receive the seed, it germinates, and ''life'' sprouts from dead earth. ''Hallelujah!'' Professions are made; baptismal waters stir; they break bread with us. Our prayers, we believe, have been answered. But the gospel seed, over time, dies. Their faith returns to the dirt before our eyes.<br />
<br />
Jesus depicts two ways the gospel dies in the soul.<br />
<br />
'''Scorched by Trials'''<br />
<br />
The first false soil is rocky.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and immediately they sprang up, since they had no depth of soil, but when the sun rose they were scorched. And since they had no root, they withered away. (Matthew 13:5–6)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The most confusing part about this soil is how wonderful the beginning seems. Upon hearing the gospel word, they do not argue with it or poke at it. Rather, these receive it “with joy” (Matthew 13:20). They smile at the news of Jesus, shed tears that he would die in their place. They raise their hands and sing of eternal life with what Jesus tells us is real joy.<br />
<br />
But the plant shoots up quickly because the soil beneath is thin. Inhospitable rock prevents the roots from growing deep. When the sun eventually rises, tribulation or persecution beat down upon them on account of their new faith in Christ (verse 21). Through much of church history (and still in many places today), this entailed lives threatened, property plundered, friends arrested. In the modern Western context, girlfriends threaten to break up with them. They lose their job. They become the ridicule of family and friends.<br />
<br />
A time of testing arrives, and they fall away. They received the word with joy, but when the weather changed, they headed back home, as did Bunyan’s Pliable. Happily, Pliable walked from the City of Destruction as Christian assured him of all the glories that awaited them at the Celestial City. But they soon fell into the Slough of Despond.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>At that Pliable began to be offended, and angrily said to his fellow, “Is this the happiness you have told me all this while of? If we have such ill speed at our first setting out, what may we expect betwixt this and our journey’s end?”</blockquote><br />
<br />
He struggled out of the pit and returned home.<br />
<br />
So with some loved ones. They explode like a firework only to fizzle in the night sky. Their initial joy, though real, proved shallow. The gospel gripped passing emotions but did not reach the heart. Their god was worth serving, but only in fair weather. Their faith was worth confessing, but only while it cost them little. Their Shepherd was good to follow, but only when he led to green pastures. The sun rises and scorches the gospel word buried in the shallows of their soul.<br />
<br />
'''Choked by Pleasures'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. (Matthew 13:7)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Here, we find that more than just the gospel grew in the heart. Alongside faith grew rival loves — thorns.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and it proves unfruitful. (Matthew 13:22)</blockquote><br />
<br />
They grew too busy. They began a new relationship. They found a way to make some extra money. Jesus and his service could wait a little longer after all. The love of this world and its shiny things, its comforts, its urgent business became preferred to the unseen world. These sharp loves wrapped themselves around the word of the cross, of forgiveness of sins, and of eternal life with God, and ''squeezed''. Maybe we saw them put up some fight as faith lost its breath, but busyness, this career, that boyfriend proved too gripping.<br />
<br />
We see these thorns grow even in the hearts of those who seemed most dedicated to Christ and his work in this world. Such was the tragedy of Demas. Paul writes to the Colossian church, “Luke the beloved physician greets you, ''as does Demas''” (Colossians 4:14). Paul calls him his “fellow worker” in his letter to Philemon (verse 24). Yet thorny soil he proved to be in the end. “For Demas,” Paul writes to Timothy at the end of his life, “''in love'' with this present world, has deserted me and gone to Thessalonica” (2 Timothy 4:10).<br />
<br />
In love with this present world, they desert us, desert Christ — thorny soil.<br />
<br />
'''Heart of the Matter'''<br />
<br />
The soils represent different types of hearts. In some rocky hearts, the gospel seed dies due to a shallowness of reception. In thorny hearts, it dies in the grip of love for this world and its concerns. Yet read the description of the good soil in Luke’s account:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience. (Luke 8:15)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Good soil holds fast the gospel seed, refusing to relinquish it when persecution comes. Good soil fends off encroaching loves for a pure and beautiful devotion to Jesus. Good soil bears fruit with patience. Good soil is analogous to a good and beautiful heart, a heart promised long ago:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules. (Ezekiel 36:26–27)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The new-covenant heart, one removed of its stone and cleansed of its competing loves — this heart endures trials and tribulation, and resists temptation and the world’s best, aided and empowered by God’s own indwelling Spirit. Good soil bears good fruit, yielding thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold (Matthew 13:23).<br />
<br />
'''A Prayer'''<br />
<br />
Father, tears well in our eyes as we consider those whose desertion our hearts cannot bear. What hope is left?<br />
<br />
For some, you alone know it is too late to restore them to repentance. For them it is impossible to be restored, for they have been enlightened, tasted the heavenly gift, shared in the Holy Spirit, and tasted the goodness of your word (Hebrews 6:4–6). We love your Son, and would not have him “crucified again” or held up for contempt. And yet, you can permit restoration (Hebrews 6:3). Let us be hopeful of better things — namely, that you are not done with our loved ones just yet.<br />
<br />
Let us see those who have wandered from the truth be brought back. Use us to return them from their wandering. Use us to save their souls from death and cover a multitude of sins (James 5:19–20). Teach our lips the promise, “Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the Lord, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, ''for he will abundantly pardon''” (Isaiah 55:7). Your grace is unlike our grace. You offer abundant pardon still, and in that, we hope.<br />
<br />
And grant us each to keep eyes and prayers on one another, lest we too fall. Let us take heed, lest there be in any of us an evil, unbelieving heart, leading us to fall away from the living God. May we be diligent to exhort one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of us may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin (Hebrews 3:12–13). Keep us in your love. Be pleased to place the period — over them and us — after the words, “Enter into the joy of your Master.”</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Friends_Who_Fell_AwayFriends Who Fell Away2023-02-15T19:40:12Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "Friends Who Fell Away" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>'''When Apostasy Comes Close to Home'''<br />
<br />
The memories, on most days, seem better left forgotten. Never has remembering sweet Bible studies tasted so bitter. Flashbacks of late-night conversations and time spent in prayer press inconsiderately upon the wound. In that large group, I can still hear his profession of faith echo. I thought I heard angels sing at his surrender. So long we had prayed for his salvation. ''Now, he no longer walks with Jesus.''<br />
<br />
The grief of false conversions.<br />
<br />
“''They'' went out from us, but ''they'' were not of us; for if ''they'' had been of us, ''they'' would have continued with us” (1 John 2:19). They. We knew them by another name: friend, spouse, mother, son. Each sang with us in church, confessed to be the Savior’s, renounced the world and Satan at baptism — but only for a time.<br />
<br />
Our prayers, we thought, were finally answered. Their souls, we thought, were finally saved. Our joy, we thought, was finally complete. The prodigal son returned home — ''and left again''. The difference between a comedy and a tragedy, some say, is where you place the period. Their faith, at best, led only to a semicolon; what a horrible independent clause came next: “They went out from us.”<br />
<br />
'''How the Gospel Dies in a Soul'''<br />
<br />
Jesus tells the tragedies of our daughters, our best friends, our parents, in his parable of the sower.<br />
<br />
The parable is familiar. The sower scatters seed on four soils. Some falls on the path — where the hateful bird, Satan, steals it before it can be understood. Such are those who dismiss the gospel as foolishness and never pretend to believe. The fourth soil is the good soil, the true soil, the one who receives the Christ by faith and holds to him, the genuine Christian. But the second and third soils receive the seed, it germinates, and ''life'' sprouts from dead earth. ''Hallelujah!'' Professions are made; baptismal waters stir; they break bread with us. Our prayers, we believe, have been answered. But the gospel seed, over time, dies. Their faith returns to the dirt before our eyes.<br />
<br />
Jesus depicts two ways the gospel dies in the soul.<br />
<br />
'''Scorched by Trials'''<br />
<br />
The first false soil is rocky.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and immediately they sprang up, since they had no depth of soil, but when the sun rose they were scorched. And since they had no root, they withered away. (Matthew 13:5–6)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The most confusing part about this soil is how wonderful the beginning seems. Upon hearing the gospel word, they do not argue with it or poke at it. Rather, these receive it “with joy” (Matthew 13:20). They smile at the news of Jesus, shed tears that he would die in their place. They raise their hands and sing of eternal life with what Jesus tells us is real joy.<br />
<br />
But the plant shoots up quickly because the soil beneath is thin. Inhospitable rock prevents the roots from growing deep. When the sun eventually rises, tribulation or persecution beat down upon them on account of their new faith in Christ (verse 21). Through much of church history (and still in many places today), this entailed lives threatened, property plundered, friends arrested. In the modern Western context, girlfriends threaten to break up with them. They lose their job. They become the ridicule of family and friends.<br />
<br />
A time of testing arrives, and they fall away. They received the word with joy, but when the weather changed, they headed back home, as did Bunyan’s Pliable. Happily, Pliable walked from the City of Destruction as Christian assured him of all the glories that awaited them at the Celestial City. But they soon fell into the Slough of Despond.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>At that Pliable began to be offended, and angrily said to his fellow, “Is this the happiness you have told me all this while of? If we have such ill speed at our first setting out, what may we expect betwixt this and our journey’s end?”</blockquote><br />
<br />
He struggled out of the pit and returned home.<br />
<br />
So with some loved ones. They explode like a firework only to fizzle in the night sky. Their initial joy, though real, proved shallow. The gospel gripped passing emotions but did not reach the heart. Their god was worth serving, but only in fair weather. Their faith was worth confessing, but only while it cost them little. Their Shepherd was good to follow, but only when he led to green pastures. The sun rises and scorches the gospel word buried in the shallows of their soul.<br />
<br />
'''Choked by Pleasures'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. (Matthew 13:7)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Here, we find that more than just the gospel grew in the heart. Alongside faith grew rival loves — thorns.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and it proves unfruitful. (Matthew 13:22)</blockquote><br />
<br />
They grew too busy. They began a new relationship. They found a way to make some extra money. Jesus and his service could wait a little longer after all. The love of this world and its shiny things, its comforts, its urgent business became preferred to the unseen world. These sharp loves wrapped themselves around the word of the cross, of forgiveness of sins, and of eternal life with God, and ''squeezed''. Maybe we saw them put up some fight as faith lost its breath, but busyness, this career, that boyfriend proved too gripping.<br />
<br />
We see these thorns grow even in the hearts of those who seemed most dedicated to Christ and his work in this world. Such was the tragedy of Demas. Paul writes to the Colossian church, “Luke the beloved physician greets you, ''as does Demas''” (Colossians 4:14). Paul calls him his “fellow worker” in his letter to Philemon (verse 24). Yet thorny soil he proved to be in the end. “For Demas,” Paul writes to Timothy at the end of his life, “''in love'' with this present world, has deserted me and gone to Thessalonica” (2 Timothy 4:10).<br />
<br />
In love with this present world, they desert us, desert Christ — thorny soil.<br />
<br />
'''Heart of the Matter'''<br />
<br />
The soils represent different types of hearts. In some rocky hearts, the gospel seed dies due to a shallowness of reception. In thorny hearts, it dies in the grip of love for this world and its concerns. Yet read the description of the good soil in Luke’s account:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience. (Luke 8:15)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Good soil holds fast the gospel seed, refusing to relinquish it when persecution comes. Good soil fends off encroaching loves for a pure and beautiful devotion to Jesus. Good soil bears fruit with patience. Good soil is analogous to a good and beautiful heart, a heart promised long ago:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules. (Ezekiel 36:26–27)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The new-covenant heart, one removed of its stone and cleansed of its competing loves — this heart endures trials and tribulation, and resists temptation and the world’s best, aided and empowered by God’s own indwelling Spirit. Good soil bears good fruit, yielding thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold (Matthew 13:23).<br />
<br />
'''A Prayer'''<br />
<br />
Father, tears well in our eyes as we consider those whose desertion our hearts cannot bear. What hope is left?<br />
<br />
For some, you alone know it is too late to restore them to repentance. For them it is impossible to be restored, for they have been enlightened, tasted the heavenly gift, shared in the Holy Spirit, and tasted the goodness of your word (Hebrews 6:4–6). We love your Son, and would not have him “crucified again” or held up for contempt. And yet, you can permit restoration (Hebrews 6:3). Let us be hopeful of better things — namely, that you are not done with our loved ones just yet.<br />
<br />
Let us see those who have wandered from the truth be brought back. Use us to return them from their wandering. Use us to save their souls from death and cover a multitude of sins (James 5:19–20). Teach our lips the promise, “Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the Lord, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, ''for he will abundantly pardon''” (Isaiah 55:7). Your grace is unlike our grace. You offer abundant pardon still, and in that, we hope.<br />
<br />
And grant us each to keep eyes and prayers on one another, lest we too fall. Let us take heed, lest there be in any of us an evil, unbelieving heart, leading us to fall away from the living God. May we be diligent to exhort one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of us may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin (Hebrews 3:12–13). Keep us in your love. Be pleased to place the period — over them and us — after the words, “Enter into the joy of your Master.”</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Friends_Who_Fell_AwayFriends Who Fell Away2023-02-15T19:40:02Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with ''''When Apostasy Comes Close to Home''' The memories, on most days, seem better left forgotten. Never has remembering sweet Bible studies tasted so bitter. Flashbacks of late-ni...'</p>
<hr />
<div>'''When Apostasy Comes Close to Home'''<br />
<br />
The memories, on most days, seem better left forgotten. Never has remembering sweet Bible studies tasted so bitter. Flashbacks of late-night conversations and time spent in prayer press inconsiderately upon the wound. In that large group, I can still hear his profession of faith echo. I thought I heard angels sing at his surrender. So long we had prayed for his salvation. ''Now, he no longer walks with Jesus.''<br />
<br />
The grief of false conversions.<br />
<br />
“''They'' went out from us, but ''they'' were not of us; for if ''they'' had been of us, ''they'' would have continued with us” (1 John 2:19). They. We knew them by another name: friend, spouse, mother, son. Each sang with us in church, confessed to be the Savior’s, renounced the world and Satan at baptism — but only for a time.<br />
<br />
Our prayers, we thought, were finally answered. Their souls, we thought, were finally saved. Our joy, we thought, was finally complete. The prodigal son returned home — ''and left again''. The difference between a comedy and a tragedy, some say, is where you place the period. Their faith, at best, led only to a semicolon; what a horrible independent clause came next: “They went out from us.”<br />
<br />
'''How the Gospel Dies in a Soul'''<br />
<br />
Jesus tells the tragedies of our daughters, our best friends, our parents, in his parable of the sower.<br />
<br />
The parable is familiar. The sower scatters seed on four soils. Some falls on the path — where the hateful bird, Satan, steals it before it can be understood. Such are those who dismiss the gospel as foolishness and never pretend to believe. The fourth soil is the good soil, the true soil, the one who receives the Christ by faith and holds to him, the genuine Christian. But the second and third soils receive the seed, it germinates, and ''life'' sprouts from dead earth. ''Hallelujah!'' Professions are made; baptismal waters stir; they break bread with us. Our prayers, we believe, have been answered. But the gospel seed, over time, dies. Their faith returns to the dirt before our eyes.<br />
<br />
Jesus depicts two ways the gospel dies in the soul.<br />
<br />
'''Scorched by Trials'''<br />
<br />
The first false soil is rocky.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and immediately they sprang up, since they had no depth of soil, but when the sun rose they were scorched. And since they had no root, they withered away. (Matthew 13:5–6)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The most confusing part about this soil is how wonderful the beginning seems. Upon hearing the gospel word, they do not argue with it or poke at it. Rather, these receive it “with joy” (Matthew 13:20). They smile at the news of Jesus, shed tears that he would die in their place. They raise their hands and sing of eternal life with what Jesus tells us is real joy.<br />
<br />
But the plant shoots up quickly because the soil beneath is thin. Inhospitable rock prevents the roots from growing deep. When the sun eventually rises, tribulation or persecution beat down upon them on account of their new faith in Christ (verse 21). Through much of church history (and still in many places today), this entailed lives threatened, property plundered, friends arrested. In the modern Western context, girlfriends threaten to break up with them. They lose their job. They become the ridicule of family and friends.<br />
<br />
A time of testing arrives, and they fall away. They received the word with joy, but when the weather changed, they headed back home, as did Bunyan’s Pliable. Happily, Pliable walked from the City of Destruction as Christian assured him of all the glories that awaited them at the Celestial City. But they soon fell into the Slough of Despond.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>At that Pliable began to be offended, and angrily said to his fellow, “Is this the happiness you have told me all this while of? If we have such ill speed at our first setting out, what may we expect betwixt this and our journey’s end?”</blockquote><br />
<br />
He struggled out of the pit and returned home.<br />
<br />
So with some loved ones. They explode like a firework only to fizzle in the night sky. Their initial joy, though real, proved shallow. The gospel gripped passing emotions but did not reach the heart. Their god was worth serving, but only in fair weather. Their faith was worth confessing, but only while it cost them little. Their Shepherd was good to follow, but only when he led to green pastures. The sun rises and scorches the gospel word buried in the shallows of their soul.<br />
<br />
'''Choked by Pleasures'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. (Matthew 13:7)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Here, we find that more than just the gospel grew in the heart. Alongside faith grew rival loves — thorns.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and it proves unfruitful. (Matthew 13:22)</blockquote><br />
<br />
They grew too busy. They began a new relationship. They found a way to make some extra money. Jesus and his service could wait a little longer after all. The love of this world and its shiny things, its comforts, its urgent business became preferred to the unseen world. These sharp loves wrapped themselves around the word of the cross, of forgiveness of sins, and of eternal life with God, and ''squeezed''. Maybe we saw them put up some fight as faith lost its breath, but busyness, this career, that boyfriend proved too gripping.<br />
<br />
We see these thorns grow even in the hearts of those who seemed most dedicated to Christ and his work in this world. Such was the tragedy of Demas. Paul writes to the Colossian church, “Luke the beloved physician greets you, ''as does Demas''” (Colossians 4:14). Paul calls him his “fellow worker” in his letter to Philemon (verse 24). Yet thorny soil he proved to be in the end. “For Demas,” Paul writes to Timothy at the end of his life, “''in love'' with this present world, has deserted me and gone to Thessalonica” (2 Timothy 4:10).<br />
<br />
In love with this present world, they desert us, desert Christ — thorny soil.<br />
<br />
'''Heart of the Matter'''<br />
<br />
The soils represent different types of hearts. In some rocky hearts, the gospel seed dies due to a shallowness of reception. In thorny hearts, it dies in the grip of love for this world and its concerns. Yet read the description of the good soil in Luke’s account:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience. (Luke 8:15)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Good soil holds fast the gospel seed, refusing to relinquish it when persecution comes. Good soil fends off encroaching loves for a pure and beautiful devotion to Jesus. Good soil bears fruit with patience. Good soil is analogous to a good and beautiful heart, a heart promised long ago:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules. (Ezekiel 36:26–27)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The new-covenant heart, one removed of its stone and cleansed of its competing loves — this heart endures trials and tribulation, and resists temptation and the world’s best, aided and empowered by God’s own indwelling Spirit. Good soil bears good fruit, yielding thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold (Matthew 13:23).<br />
<br />
'''A Prayer'''<br />
<br />
Father, tears well in our eyes as we consider those whose desertion our hearts cannot bear. What hope is left?<br />
<br />
For some, you alone know it is too late to restore them to repentance. For them it is impossible to be restored, for they have been enlightened, tasted the heavenly gift, shared in the Holy Spirit, and tasted the goodness of your word (Hebrews 6:4–6). We love your Son, and would not have him “crucified again” or held up for contempt. And yet, you can permit restoration (Hebrews 6:3). Let us be hopeful of better things — namely, that you are not done with our loved ones just yet.<br />
<br />
Let us see those who have wandered from the truth be brought back. Use us to return them from their wandering. Use us to save their souls from death and cover a multitude of sins (James 5:19–20). Teach our lips the promise, “Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the Lord, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, ''for he will abundantly pardon''” (Isaiah 55:7). Your grace is unlike our grace. You offer abundant pardon still, and in that, we hope.<br />
<br />
And grant us each to keep eyes and prayers on one another, lest we too fall. Let us take heed, lest there be in any of us an evil, unbelieving heart, leading us to fall away from the living God. May we be diligent to exhort one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of us may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin (Hebrews 3:12–13). Keep us in your love. Be pleased to place the period — over them and us — after the words, “Enter into the joy of your Master.”</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/The_Starving_Eyes_of_ManThe Starving Eyes of Man2023-01-03T19:41:08Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "The Starving Eyes of Man" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Why We Ache to See Glory'''<br />
<br />
The eyes of man were made for glory. His soul hungers for something worth seeing. This world is a war of spectacles.<br />
<br />
Man is a watching creature, a born admirer, a natural worshiper. It is why he gazes at the stars, climbs to the top of mountains, explores underwater worlds, travels to new and untamed lands — he craves vistas. It explains why he pays good money to pack into sports arenas, stares for hours at television screens, pays homage to the flaming horizon, and sings with Adam at the naked frame of Eve — he was made to see wonders.<br />
<br />
Human eyes have had an appetite from the beginning. Consider Eve’s fall: “When the woman ''saw'' that the tree was good for food, and that ''it was a delight to the eyes'' . . . she took of its fruit and ate” (Genesis 3:6). Eyes delighted; sin committed. The pattern holds with her and Adam’s children. When man exchanges the glory of God, he does so ''for images'' (Romans 1:23) — for that which intrigues the eye, something seen, a glory exchanged.<br />
<br />
Ravenous, then, are the eyes of man. Like the belly, they hunger. Like the throat, they thirst. Like the feet, they wander, searching after something — anything — worth beholding. But in a world of images, he still hasn’t found what he is looking for. One wonder will be replaced by another and another. “Sheol and Abaddon are never satisfied, and never satisfied are the eyes of man” (Proverbs 27:20).<br />
<br />
But oh, how often humanity conceives its happiness backward. We think to achieve, to be somebody celebrated and revered — this fills the golden chalice with lasting happiness. But man is no dog to live for pats on the head. Just the opposite. Man is a creature who looks out the window through the rain, ''searching for something to enthrall him''. To first see, not be seen; to chiefly admire, not be admired; to fix one’s gaze beyond earth’s horizons — this is the happiness so few ever find.<br />
<br />
'''Back of Glory'''<br />
<br />
Scripture testifies that some famished eyes looked above and found the true object of their desire.<br />
<br />
Such ones climbed mountains to exclaim at the heavens, “Please show me your glory!” (Exodus 33:18). Such souls, when surrounded by danger and violence, wrote, “One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after . . . to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord” (Psalm 27:4). These eyes faced east and begged to see what would soothe their reason for being — in this world and the next. “As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness,” sang David. “When I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness” (Psalm 17:15).<br />
<br />
“Show me your glory! Satisfy me with your beauty! Show me your face — even beyond the grave — and it is well with me.”<br />
<br />
But Old Testament saints, at best, viewed only the backside of divine glory. God tells Moses, “You cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live” (Exodus 33:20). The only glory that can satisfy man’s insatiable craving is the glory that would kill him to behold. So Moses hid in the cleft, seeing his back and hearing his name, but God’s face he did not see.<br />
<br />
'''Face of Glory'''<br />
<br />
Yet the story was not done. The glory that Moses could not see the face of, the beauty too fatal for fallen eyes, was born at Christmas. Wonder of wonders.<br />
<br />
To a little town named Bethlehem arrived the God no one had ever seen. The only God, who was eternally at the Father’s side — ''he has made him known'' (John 1:18). Christ — “the image of the invisible God,” the blinding light of God’s glory, “the exact imprint of his nature,” the very face of God’s beauty — became flesh and dwelt among us (Colossians 1:15; Hebrews 1:3; 2 Corinthians 4:4–6). “''And we have seen his glory'',” the astonished apostle writes, “glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14).<br />
<br />
Now, this all-Glorious One came down to us, as Moses came down from the mountain to Israel, ''veiled''. His glory during his incarnation and humiliation was beheld not as much by sight as by faith. It stood as the marvel of angels that the thrice-holy one on the throne, possessor of all riches and glory, should grow up in the world of men “like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him” (Isaiah 53:2). The King veiled his majesty in human flesh, disguised his splendor, hid his name, and dwelled among the poor, diseased, and condemned.<br />
<br />
But the eyes of faith came to see more than just a Jewish man. “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah!” Jesus exclaims after Peter identifies him as the Christ. “For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 16:17).<br />
<br />
Yet even his disciples were slow to see him. Philip requests of Jesus, “Show us the Father, and it is enough for us.” “Have I been with you so long,” Jesus replies, “and you still do not know me, Philip?” (John 14:8–9). Then, with weight enough to break the world’s back, he utters, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.” When Philip heard the words and saw the works and beheld the Person born in Bethlehem, he should have seen the face of the one who dwells in “unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see” (1 Timothy 6:16).<br />
<br />
'''Seeing Heaven Himself'''<br />
<br />
The sight of Jesus in all his glory alone can satisfy the eyes of men. Overhear Jesus’s prayer hours before the cross. He bends to ask that his disciples be given heaven’s crown jewel. What is that?<br />
<br />
<blockquote>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. (John 17:24)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Jesus wants his people to enjoy the sight their soul was made to see: the glory of God, shining forth in his glory, forever. He ''desires it'' — so much so that nails through the hands, the feet, the soul will not stop him from obtaining it. Here is the ultimate ''something'' worth seeing. Here is ''glory beyond hyperbole'', said Thomas Watson.<br />
<br />
Here is why redeemed beings have eyes: to see and savor Jesus Christ in his uncloaked glory. This is why we have mouths: to sing back to him praise unending. In his presence, faith will flee at that face whose intensity retires the sun: “The city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb” (Revelation 21:23).<br />
<br />
'''Sight That Makes Us Happy'''<br />
<br />
The ache of men’s eyes sends them many places. The eyes of man rove the beauties of this world, restless. Only here, beholding Jesus — now by faith, soon by sight — do we find the beatific vision, the sight that makes eternally happy. Where are you looking, this Christmas, to satisfy your soul?<br />
<br />
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for ''they shall see God''” (Matthew 5:8) — can you imagine anything better? In the closing chapter, we read, “They will see his face” (Revelation 22:4) — is there a better happily-ever-after? This is not the only joy heaven holds, but it is the best. His kingly countenance, concealed no longer, is heaven’s consummation for both unfallen angel and redeemed man.<br />
<br />
“Your eyes will behold the king in his beauty” (Isaiah 33:17). We will not see him as he was in Bethlehem or in the streets of Jerusalem; we will see him ''as he is'' in royal beauty (1 John 3:2). There is a great deal of difference, Jeremiah Burroughs comments, “between seeing the King at an ordinary time, and seeing of him when he is in his Robes, with his Crown upon his head, and his Scepter in his hand, and set upon his Throne, with all his Nobles about him in all his glory” (''Moses His Choice, with His Eye Fixed upon Heaven'', 537).<br />
<br />
And this sight of him transfigured will not merely satisfy but transform. “Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because ''we shall see him as he is''” (1 John 3:2). Burroughs again: “A deformed man may see a beautiful object, and that sight shall not make him like that beautiful object; but the sight of God shall make the soul glorious, as God is glorious” (581–82).<br />
<br />
Seeing him as he is, we will join the seraphim in wonder, ''shouting holy!'' and ''worthy!'' until we threaten to burst with happiness. Available to us is the Face of glory, not the back; an eternal gaze at his beauty, not a passing glimpse. Now we may see in a mirror dimly, “but then ''face to face''.” Now we know in part; then we shall know fully, even as we have been fully known (1 Corinthians 13:12).<br />
<br />
This is the glory whispered at Christmas, sung at Easter, shouted in eternity — the glory profound enough to satiate our souls and make us happy forever.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/The_Starving_Eyes_of_ManThe Starving Eyes of Man2023-01-03T19:40:59Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''Why We Ache to See Glory''' The eyes of man were made for glory. His soul hungers for something worth seeing. This world is a war of spectacles. Man is a watching cr...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Why We Ache to See Glory'''<br />
<br />
The eyes of man were made for glory. His soul hungers for something worth seeing. This world is a war of spectacles.<br />
<br />
Man is a watching creature, a born admirer, a natural worshiper. It is why he gazes at the stars, climbs to the top of mountains, explores underwater worlds, travels to new and untamed lands — he craves vistas. It explains why he pays good money to pack into sports arenas, stares for hours at television screens, pays homage to the flaming horizon, and sings with Adam at the naked frame of Eve — he was made to see wonders.<br />
<br />
Human eyes have had an appetite from the beginning. Consider Eve’s fall: “When the woman ''saw'' that the tree was good for food, and that ''it was a delight to the eyes'' . . . she took of its fruit and ate” (Genesis 3:6). Eyes delighted; sin committed. The pattern holds with her and Adam’s children. When man exchanges the glory of God, he does so ''for images'' (Romans 1:23) — for that which intrigues the eye, something seen, a glory exchanged.<br />
<br />
Ravenous, then, are the eyes of man. Like the belly, they hunger. Like the throat, they thirst. Like the feet, they wander, searching after something — anything — worth beholding. But in a world of images, he still hasn’t found what he is looking for. One wonder will be replaced by another and another. “Sheol and Abaddon are never satisfied, and never satisfied are the eyes of man” (Proverbs 27:20).<br />
<br />
But oh, how often humanity conceives its happiness backward. We think to achieve, to be somebody celebrated and revered — this fills the golden chalice with lasting happiness. But man is no dog to live for pats on the head. Just the opposite. Man is a creature who looks out the window through the rain, ''searching for something to enthrall him''. To first see, not be seen; to chiefly admire, not be admired; to fix one’s gaze beyond earth’s horizons — this is the happiness so few ever find.<br />
<br />
'''Back of Glory'''<br />
<br />
Scripture testifies that some famished eyes looked above and found the true object of their desire.<br />
<br />
Such ones climbed mountains to exclaim at the heavens, “Please show me your glory!” (Exodus 33:18). Such souls, when surrounded by danger and violence, wrote, “One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after . . . to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord” (Psalm 27:4). These eyes faced east and begged to see what would soothe their reason for being — in this world and the next. “As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness,” sang David. “When I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness” (Psalm 17:15).<br />
<br />
“Show me your glory! Satisfy me with your beauty! Show me your face — even beyond the grave — and it is well with me.”<br />
<br />
But Old Testament saints, at best, viewed only the backside of divine glory. God tells Moses, “You cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live” (Exodus 33:20). The only glory that can satisfy man’s insatiable craving is the glory that would kill him to behold. So Moses hid in the cleft, seeing his back and hearing his name, but God’s face he did not see.<br />
<br />
'''Face of Glory'''<br />
<br />
Yet the story was not done. The glory that Moses could not see the face of, the beauty too fatal for fallen eyes, was born at Christmas. Wonder of wonders.<br />
<br />
To a little town named Bethlehem arrived the God no one had ever seen. The only God, who was eternally at the Father’s side — ''he has made him known'' (John 1:18). Christ — “the image of the invisible God,” the blinding light of God’s glory, “the exact imprint of his nature,” the very face of God’s beauty — became flesh and dwelt among us (Colossians 1:15; Hebrews 1:3; 2 Corinthians 4:4–6). “''And we have seen his glory'',” the astonished apostle writes, “glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14).<br />
<br />
Now, this all-Glorious One came down to us, as Moses came down from the mountain to Israel, ''veiled''. His glory during his incarnation and humiliation was beheld not as much by sight as by faith. It stood as the marvel of angels that the thrice-holy one on the throne, possessor of all riches and glory, should grow up in the world of men “like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him” (Isaiah 53:2). The King veiled his majesty in human flesh, disguised his splendor, hid his name, and dwelled among the poor, diseased, and condemned.<br />
<br />
But the eyes of faith came to see more than just a Jewish man. “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah!” Jesus exclaims after Peter identifies him as the Christ. “For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 16:17).<br />
<br />
Yet even his disciples were slow to see him. Philip requests of Jesus, “Show us the Father, and it is enough for us.” “Have I been with you so long,” Jesus replies, “and you still do not know me, Philip?” (John 14:8–9). Then, with weight enough to break the world’s back, he utters, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.” When Philip heard the words and saw the works and beheld the Person born in Bethlehem, he should have seen the face of the one who dwells in “unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see” (1 Timothy 6:16).<br />
<br />
'''Seeing Heaven Himself'''<br />
<br />
The sight of Jesus in all his glory alone can satisfy the eyes of men. Overhear Jesus’s prayer hours before the cross. He bends to ask that his disciples be given heaven’s crown jewel. What is that?<br />
<br />
<blockquote>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. (John 17:24)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Jesus wants his people to enjoy the sight their soul was made to see: the glory of God, shining forth in his glory, forever. He ''desires it'' — so much so that nails through the hands, the feet, the soul will not stop him from obtaining it. Here is the ultimate ''something'' worth seeing. Here is ''glory beyond hyperbole'', said Thomas Watson.<br />
<br />
Here is why redeemed beings have eyes: to see and savor Jesus Christ in his uncloaked glory. This is why we have mouths: to sing back to him praise unending. In his presence, faith will flee at that face whose intensity retires the sun: “The city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb” (Revelation 21:23).<br />
<br />
'''Sight That Makes Us Happy'''<br />
<br />
The ache of men’s eyes sends them many places. The eyes of man rove the beauties of this world, restless. Only here, beholding Jesus — now by faith, soon by sight — do we find the beatific vision, the sight that makes eternally happy. Where are you looking, this Christmas, to satisfy your soul?<br />
<br />
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for ''they shall see God''” (Matthew 5:8) — can you imagine anything better? In the closing chapter, we read, “They will see his face” (Revelation 22:4) — is there a better happily-ever-after? This is not the only joy heaven holds, but it is the best. His kingly countenance, concealed no longer, is heaven’s consummation for both unfallen angel and redeemed man.<br />
<br />
“Your eyes will behold the king in his beauty” (Isaiah 33:17). We will not see him as he was in Bethlehem or in the streets of Jerusalem; we will see him ''as he is'' in royal beauty (1 John 3:2). There is a great deal of difference, Jeremiah Burroughs comments, “between seeing the King at an ordinary time, and seeing of him when he is in his Robes, with his Crown upon his head, and his Scepter in his hand, and set upon his Throne, with all his Nobles about him in all his glory” (''Moses His Choice, with His Eye Fixed upon Heaven'', 537).<br />
<br />
And this sight of him transfigured will not merely satisfy but transform. “Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because ''we shall see him as he is''” (1 John 3:2). Burroughs again: “A deformed man may see a beautiful object, and that sight shall not make him like that beautiful object; but the sight of God shall make the soul glorious, as God is glorious” (581–82).<br />
<br />
Seeing him as he is, we will join the seraphim in wonder, ''shouting holy!'' and ''worthy!'' until we threaten to burst with happiness. Available to us is the Face of glory, not the back; an eternal gaze at his beauty, not a passing glimpse. Now we may see in a mirror dimly, “but then ''face to face''.” Now we know in part; then we shall know fully, even as we have been fully known (1 Corinthians 13:12).<br />
<br />
This is the glory whispered at Christmas, sung at Easter, shouted in eternity — the glory profound enough to satiate our souls and make us happy forever.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/When_Praying_HurtsWhen Praying Hurts2023-01-03T19:25:45Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "When Praying Hurts" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''How to Go to God in Suffering'''<br />
<br />
My desire to pray when I’m suffering can swing wildly in a single day — and sometimes within the hour. Through the severe trials in my life — losing a child, having a debilitating disease, losing my marriage — prayer has been both arduous and exhilarating. Exhausting work and energizing delight.<br />
<br />
In relentless suffering, I can struggle with prayer. More accurately, I don’t want to pray. When I haven’t seen any change, it can feel pointless to pray. So, I avoid it. Or I pray mindlessly. As my motivation fades, my heart slowly drifts from God. When that happens, I first need to recognize the battle raging inside me. Only then can I admit my wandering heart and cry out, “Help me to want to pray!” After that, I follow the Puritan admonition: “Pray until you pray.” I pray until I’m truly talking to God again.<br />
<br />
Other times, I want to pray, but I just can’t do it. Praying feels impossible when I’m overwhelmed by pain. I’m either too exhausted, too numb, or too desperate to focus, and I can only manage to plead, “Help me.” I don’t know what I need, or even how to articulate what I’m feeling. In those moments, I can rely on the Spirit with his groans too deep for words. God knows what I need, and the Spirit will intercede for me (Romans 8:26–27).<br />
<br />
Still other times, my prayer life blossoms in suffering. I see God provide for all my needs. I sense his presence and pour out my heart to him throughout the day. I find that life with God, even when everything is falling apart, can be a place of joy and abundance. Such connection with God in the storm has led to exquisite intimacy, a mystical communion I will never forget, not because my circumstances were good, or even changing for the better, but because God felt near.<br />
<br />
'''At a Loss for Words'''<br />
<br />
There are also times when I want to pray, but words escape me. When I don’t know what to ask or say, I borrow the wisdom of others. Many mornings, my prayer time has begun with quotes I’ve pinned to my bulletin board to realign my heart. For example:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Lord, do thou turn me all into love, all my love into obedience, and let my obedience be without interruption. (Jeremy Taylor)</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>Lord, please lighten my load or strengthen my back. (Puritan prayer)</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. (The Serenity Prayer)</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>Everything is needful that he sends; nothing can be needful that he withholds. (John Newton)</blockquote><br />
<br />
These words have helped me focus as I add to them my own petitions. I might ask for rescue from my trials, wisdom for my decisions, strength for the day ahead. God’s provision doesn’t always mirror my requests, yet his grace unfailingly meets me. When I ask for a changed situation, I often receive a changed heart. When I ask for wisdom, I often have to proceed without clarity. When I ask for strength, I often still feel weak and uncertain. I have had to move forward in faith, trusting that God will provide what I need. Yet it is trusting God with the unknown, not leaning on my own understanding or even knowing where I am going, that has anchored my faith in him.<br />
<br />
'''T.R.U.S.T.'''<br />
<br />
Besides our pressing needs, what else might we pray for in suffering? The acronym T.R.U.S.T. encapsulates what I need in suffering — what we all need — but often neglect to ask for:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Turn me from temptation. Revive me through your word. Use this pain for good. Show me your glory. Teach me your ways.</blockquote><br />
<br />
'''Turn me from temptation (Luke 22:40; Luke 11:4).'''<br />
<br />
Jesus encouraged his disciples to pray that they wouldn’t give in to temptation. Heeding his words means praying before we are tempted, which requires that we know what might derail us so we can be on the lookout for it. While each person’s struggle is unique, in suffering I’ve been tempted to<br />
<br />
*stop talking to God and subtly move away from him,<br />
*want certainty more than I want Jesus,<br />
*harbor bitterness toward those around me, even God, and<br />
*run from pain rather than staying dependent on God in it.<br />
<br />
'''Revive me through your word (Psalm 119:25).'''<br />
<br />
God has restored me countless times through Scripture. I’ve come to the Bible feeling hopeless and weary, unsure of how I can even make it through the day, and he has revived me through it. God has spoken directly to me through his word, giving me exactly what I’ve needed: reassurance when I’m doubting, comfort when I’m crying, peace when I’m panicking.<br />
<br />
But first, I need to open the Bible, which in suffering can feel uniquely challenging. I often resist it at first, as I imagine it will taste like cardboard. So I pray for motivation to read, and then I specifically ask God to give me spiritual eyes to see his truth in it (Psalm 119:18). And then, miraculously, the words become sweet (Psalm 19:10).<br />
<br />
'''Use this pain for good (Genesis 50:20; Romans 8:28).'''<br />
<br />
Knowing that my pain has a purpose makes it easier to endure. Even when I can’t understand how God could use it for good, I can be confident that he will. I know that God will never allow me to suffer needlessly, and that he has precisely measured out my trials so that not a single drop of my suffering will be wasted. While these truths are unchanging, my prayer is to glimpse what God is doing through my suffering. I’ve seen God use my pain to draw me closer to him, to comfort others with the comfort I’ve received, to increase my endurance and faith, and more.<br />
<br />
'''Show me your glory (Exodus 33:18–19; 34:6).'''<br />
<br />
Seeing God’s glory means seeing, with the eyes of faith, his indescribable beauty and his invisible attributes. His love and faithfulness. His goodness and compassion. His mercy and grace.<br />
<br />
When I ask God to show me his glory, part of that request is to see and experience his love. I don’t want to know just intellectually that he loves me; I want to experience and sense his love in my daily life. God demonstrates his love in myriad ways — this prayer is asking him for spiritual sight to see them.<br />
<br />
Finally, when we see God’s glory, we know that he is with us. His presence is unmistakable. And that awareness is our greatest need in suffering.<br />
<br />
'''Teach me your ways (Exodus 33:13; Psalm 25:4–5).'''<br />
<br />
We don’t know the ways of God. His thoughts are so much higher than ours, and nothing can compare to his wisdom. Our perspective is partial and imperfect, while God’s view is unlimited and eternal. So when we ask God to teach us his ways, we’re acknowledging that we don’t know what’s best for us and are relying on the one who does. He alone can prepare us for what lies ahead. We need wisdom for our decisions and direction. Do we act now, or should we wait? Do we need courage or patient acceptance? Do we need lighter loads or stronger backs?<br />
<br />
The work of prayer aligns our hearts with God and teaches us to trust him for all our needs. In prayer, we ask God to open our eyes to the realities before us — his presence in our lives, his provision for all our needs, and his purposes in our pain. Our deepest need is to find our rest and fulfillment in God alone, and suffering offers a unique opportunity to do that. And when we do, we learn that God really is enough, and that a life of dependence is a life of unending grace.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/When_Praying_HurtsWhen Praying Hurts2023-01-03T19:25:28Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''How to Go to God in Suffering''' My desire to pray when I’m suffering can swing wildly in a single day — and sometimes within the hour. Through the severe trials ...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''How to Go to God in Suffering'''<br />
<br />
My desire to pray when I’m suffering can swing wildly in a single day — and sometimes within the hour. Through the severe trials in my life — losing a child, having a debilitating disease, losing my marriage — prayer has been both arduous and exhilarating. Exhausting work and energizing delight.<br />
<br />
In relentless suffering, I can struggle with prayer. More accurately, I don’t want to pray. When I haven’t seen any change, it can feel pointless to pray. So, I avoid it. Or I pray mindlessly. As my motivation fades, my heart slowly drifts from God. When that happens, I first need to recognize the battle raging inside me. Only then can I admit my wandering heart and cry out, “Help me to want to pray!” After that, I follow the Puritan admonition: “Pray until you pray.” I pray until I’m truly talking to God again.<br />
<br />
Other times, I want to pray, but I just can’t do it. Praying feels impossible when I’m overwhelmed by pain. I’m either too exhausted, too numb, or too desperate to focus, and I can only manage to plead, “Help me.” I don’t know what I need, or even how to articulate what I’m feeling. In those moments, I can rely on the Spirit with his groans too deep for words. God knows what I need, and the Spirit will intercede for me (Romans 8:26–27).<br />
<br />
Still other times, my prayer life blossoms in suffering. I see God provide for all my needs. I sense his presence and pour out my heart to him throughout the day. I find that life with God, even when everything is falling apart, can be a place of joy and abundance. Such connection with God in the storm has led to exquisite intimacy, a mystical communion I will never forget, not because my circumstances were good, or even changing for the better, but because God felt near.<br />
<br />
'''At a Loss for Words'''<br />
<br />
There are also times when I want to pray, but words escape me. When I don’t know what to ask or say, I borrow the wisdom of others. Many mornings, my prayer time has begun with quotes I’ve pinned to my bulletin board to realign my heart. For example:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Lord, do thou turn me all into love, all my love into obedience, and let my obedience be without interruption. (Jeremy Taylor)</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>Lord, please lighten my load or strengthen my back. (Puritan prayer)</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. (The Serenity Prayer)</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>Everything is needful that he sends; nothing can be needful that he withholds. (John Newton)</blockquote><br />
<br />
These words have helped me focus as I add to them my own petitions. I might ask for rescue from my trials, wisdom for my decisions, strength for the day ahead. God’s provision doesn’t always mirror my requests, yet his grace unfailingly meets me. When I ask for a changed situation, I often receive a changed heart. When I ask for wisdom, I often have to proceed without clarity. When I ask for strength, I often still feel weak and uncertain. I have had to move forward in faith, trusting that God will provide what I need. Yet it is trusting God with the unknown, not leaning on my own understanding or even knowing where I am going, that has anchored my faith in him.<br />
<br />
'''T.R.U.S.T.'''<br />
<br />
Besides our pressing needs, what else might we pray for in suffering? The acronym T.R.U.S.T. encapsulates what I need in suffering — what we all need — but often neglect to ask for:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Turn me from temptation. Revive me through your word. Use this pain for good. Show me your glory. Teach me your ways.</blockquote><br />
<br />
'''Turn me from temptation (Luke 22:40; Luke 11:4).'''<br />
<br />
Jesus encouraged his disciples to pray that they wouldn’t give in to temptation. Heeding his words means praying before we are tempted, which requires that we know what might derail us so we can be on the lookout for it. While each person’s struggle is unique, in suffering I’ve been tempted to<br />
<br />
*stop talking to God and subtly move away from him,<br />
*want certainty more than I want Jesus,<br />
*harbor bitterness toward those around me, even God, and<br />
*run from pain rather than staying dependent on God in it.<br />
<br />
'''Revive me through your word (Psalm 119:25).'''<br />
<br />
God has restored me countless times through Scripture. I’ve come to the Bible feeling hopeless and weary, unsure of how I can even make it through the day, and he has revived me through it. God has spoken directly to me through his word, giving me exactly what I’ve needed: reassurance when I’m doubting, comfort when I’m crying, peace when I’m panicking.<br />
<br />
But first, I need to open the Bible, which in suffering can feel uniquely challenging. I often resist it at first, as I imagine it will taste like cardboard. So I pray for motivation to read, and then I specifically ask God to give me spiritual eyes to see his truth in it (Psalm 119:18). And then, miraculously, the words become sweet (Psalm 19:10).<br />
<br />
'''Use this pain for good (Genesis 50:20; Romans 8:28).'''<br />
<br />
Knowing that my pain has a purpose makes it easier to endure. Even when I can’t understand how God could use it for good, I can be confident that he will. I know that God will never allow me to suffer needlessly, and that he has precisely measured out my trials so that not a single drop of my suffering will be wasted. While these truths are unchanging, my prayer is to glimpse what God is doing through my suffering. I’ve seen God use my pain to draw me closer to him, to comfort others with the comfort I’ve received, to increase my endurance and faith, and more.<br />
<br />
'''Show me your glory (Exodus 33:18–19; 34:6).'''<br />
<br />
Seeing God’s glory means seeing, with the eyes of faith, his indescribable beauty and his invisible attributes. His love and faithfulness. His goodness and compassion. His mercy and grace.<br />
<br />
When I ask God to show me his glory, part of that request is to see and experience his love. I don’t want to know just intellectually that he loves me; I want to experience and sense his love in my daily life. God demonstrates his love in myriad ways — this prayer is asking him for spiritual sight to see them.<br />
<br />
Finally, when we see God’s glory, we know that he is with us. His presence is unmistakable. And that awareness is our greatest need in suffering.<br />
<br />
'''Teach me your ways (Exodus 33:13; Psalm 25:4–5).'''<br />
<br />
We don’t know the ways of God. His thoughts are so much higher than ours, and nothing can compare to his wisdom. Our perspective is partial and imperfect, while God’s view is unlimited and eternal. So when we ask God to teach us his ways, we’re acknowledging that we don’t know what’s best for us and are relying on the one who does. He alone can prepare us for what lies ahead. We need wisdom for our decisions and direction. Do we act now, or should we wait? Do we need courage or patient acceptance? Do we need lighter loads or stronger backs?<br />
<br />
The work of prayer aligns our hearts with God and teaches us to trust him for all our needs. In prayer, we ask God to open our eyes to the realities before us — his presence in our lives, his provision for all our needs, and his purposes in our pain. Our deepest need is to find our rest and fulfillment in God alone, and suffering offers a unique opportunity to do that. And when we do, we learn that God really is enough, and that a life of dependence is a life of unending grace.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Born_Between_God_and_ManBorn Between God and Man2023-01-03T19:08:25Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "Born Between God and Man" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Welcoming Our Long-Awaited Priest'''<br />
<br />
“Noël, Noël, Noël, Noël, born is the King of Israel” is a glorious refrain from a much-beloved Christmas hymn. And of course, it’s true: Jesus, as the Messiah, was born a king.<br />
<br />
Israel had hoped for a king to liberate her from her enemies. The people had long been expecting the Messiah’s arrival, and when he appeared, they expected him to ascend as their ultimate king. When the wise men reached Palestine, their first question was, “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews?” (Matthew 2:2). Herod slaughtered the Bethlehem innocents because he feared this new King of Israel. Jesus himself, in so many words, declared himself to be the King of the Jews to Pilate (John 18:36).<br />
<br />
But when Jesus came into the world the first time, it was not, as his disciples had earnestly hoped, to “restore the kingdom to Israel” (Acts 1:6). He had a more pressing mission. Before his coronation, we need consecration; before his complete reign, he must complete our righteousness; before he becomes our Sovereign, he must become our sacrifice. Though Jesus truly was born our long-awaited King, he had appeared first to do the bloody work of a priest.<br />
<br />
'''Prophet Then Priest Then King'''<br />
<br />
This caught most people off guard. But Scripture foretold the pattern. When God delivered the Israelites out of Egyptian bondage to establish them as a holy nation, he did so in a specific progression. First came the ''great prophet'' (Moses) to proclaim the good news of liberation and call out the people. Then came the ''great priest'' (Aaron) to mediate the mercy of God by providing means for forgiving the people’s sins and cleansing them from unrighteousness. Then, quite a while later, came the ''great king'' (David).<br />
<br />
This old-covenant progression foreshadowed Jesus’s new-covenant progression. First, he revealed himself to be Israel’s great Moses-like Prophet (Deuteronomy 18:15; John 7:40), “proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction” as he began to call out his people (Matthew 9:35). Then he revealed himself to be Israel’s great Melchizedek-like Priest (Psalm 110:4; Hebrews 5:9–10), as well as the sacrificial “Lamb of God” (John 1:29), providing the ultimate forgiveness for the people’s sins and cleansing them from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). And though Jesus bore marks of kingship throughout his ministry, and reigns now as king on heaven’s throne, we are still waiting for his full revelation to the world as Israel’s great David-like King (2 Samuel 7:8–16; Matthew 22:41–45).<br />
<br />
In other words, though Jesus simultaneously occupies all three offices of Prophet, Priest, and King fully and eternally, on earth we are still living in the era of Jesus’s prophetic proclamation of the gospel (Matthew 28:19–20) and Jesus’s priestly mediation of God’s mercy toward sinners. Although everything is in subjection under his royal feet, “at present, we do not yet see everything in subjection to him” (Hebrews 2:8).<br />
<br />
'''Altar Before Scepter'''<br />
<br />
We all, like our ancient forebears, long for our righteous King of kings to finally put an end to the evil that is the cause of such misery and grief in our lives and in our world. As we celebrate the first coming of Christ, we join Zechariah in praise as we look to the future grace of Jesus’s kingly reign:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,<br><br />
for he has visited and redeemed his people<br><br />
and has raised up a horn of salvation for us<br><br />
in the house of his servant David,<br><br />
as he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,<br><br />
that we should be saved from our enemies<br><br />
and from the hand of all who hate us . . .<br><br />
that we, being delivered from the hand of our enemies, might serve him without fear,<br><br />
in holiness and righteousness before him all our days. (Luke 1:68–71, 74–75)</blockquote><br />
<br />
However, if a merciful priest doesn’t precede a righteous king, a righteous king’s reign is not good news to us. Because on our own, we are not holy and righteous, as God is. We are sinful and wicked. We all know this deep down. To stand before God with our sin unatoned for is destruction.<br />
<br />
That’s why we all need to encounter Jesus our High Priest before we encounter Jesus our High King. We need him to mediate God’s mercy to us by making “an offering for [our] guilt” (Isaiah 53:10) before he comes to “execute justice and righteousness in the land” (Jeremiah 33:15). We need him to serve at the altar before he wields the scepter (Hebrews 1:3).<br />
<br />
'''Tender Mercy of Our God'''<br />
<br />
Zechariah, being a priest, knew this. Which is why I think, as he turned his words to his infant son, the forerunner of the Messiah (Luke 1:16–17; Malachi 4:5–6), he ended his declaration of praise this way:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;<br><br />
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,<br><br />
to give knowledge of salvation to his people<br><br />
in the forgiveness of their sins,<br><br />
because of the tender mercy of our God,<br><br />
whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high<br><br />
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,<br><br />
to guide our feet into the way of peace. (Luke 1:76–79)</blockquote><br />
<br />
He knew the Messiah’s appearance wasn’t merely about God’s people being saved from their enemies, but about God’s people being saved from ''being'' God’s enemies because of the guilt of their own sins. The Messiah was coming to mediate the tender mercy of God, as well as his holy righteousness, that he might ultimately deliver us from all our danger.<br />
<br />
'''Born Is the Priest of Israel'''<br />
<br />
It is right for us to long for Jesus’s reign over all rebellious reality. It is right for us to “groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies,” which will come when Christ returns for his great earthly coronation (Romans 8:23). So, it is right for us to sing and celebrate the Advent of the “King of kings and Lord of lords” (Revelation 19:16).<br />
<br />
But it is also right to think of Christmas as a day to overflow with gratitude and celebrate with feasting the fact that Jesus came to consecrate us before his coronation. He came to make us righteous before assuming his reign. He came to become our sacrifice before becoming our Sovereign. In the tender mercy of our God, Jesus “has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to put away [our] sin by the sacrifice of himself” (Hebrews 9:26).<br />
<br />
So, I don’t think the anonymous hymn writer would be at all offended if we sometimes adapted the refrain and sang,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>''Noël, Noël, Noël, Noël, born is the Priest of Israel''.</blockquote><br />
<br />
Having first come as our Priest, we now have every reason to look forward to when our King “will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him” (Hebrews 9:28).</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Born_Between_God_and_ManBorn Between God and Man2023-01-03T19:08:09Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''Welcoming Our Long-Awaited Priest''' “Noël, Noël, Noël, Noël, born is the King of Israel” is a glorious refrain from a much-beloved Christmas hymn. And of cou...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Welcoming Our Long-Awaited Priest'''<br />
<br />
“Noël, Noël, Noël, Noël, born is the King of Israel” is a glorious refrain from a much-beloved Christmas hymn. And of course, it’s true: Jesus, as the Messiah, was born a king.<br />
<br />
Israel had hoped for a king to liberate her from her enemies. The people had long been expecting the Messiah’s arrival, and when he appeared, they expected him to ascend as their ultimate king. When the wise men reached Palestine, their first question was, “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews?” (Matthew 2:2). Herod slaughtered the Bethlehem innocents because he feared this new King of Israel. Jesus himself, in so many words, declared himself to be the King of the Jews to Pilate (John 18:36).<br />
<br />
But when Jesus came into the world the first time, it was not, as his disciples had earnestly hoped, to “restore the kingdom to Israel” (Acts 1:6). He had a more pressing mission. Before his coronation, we need consecration; before his complete reign, he must complete our righteousness; before he becomes our Sovereign, he must become our sacrifice. Though Jesus truly was born our long-awaited King, he had appeared first to do the bloody work of a priest.<br />
<br />
'''Prophet Then Priest Then King'''<br />
<br />
This caught most people off guard. But Scripture foretold the pattern. When God delivered the Israelites out of Egyptian bondage to establish them as a holy nation, he did so in a specific progression. First came the ''great prophet'' (Moses) to proclaim the good news of liberation and call out the people. Then came the ''great priest'' (Aaron) to mediate the mercy of God by providing means for forgiving the people’s sins and cleansing them from unrighteousness. Then, quite a while later, came the ''great king'' (David).<br />
<br />
This old-covenant progression foreshadowed Jesus’s new-covenant progression. First, he revealed himself to be Israel’s great Moses-like Prophet (Deuteronomy 18:15; John 7:40), “proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction” as he began to call out his people (Matthew 9:35). Then he revealed himself to be Israel’s great Melchizedek-like Priest (Psalm 110:4; Hebrews 5:9–10), as well as the sacrificial “Lamb of God” (John 1:29), providing the ultimate forgiveness for the people’s sins and cleansing them from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). And though Jesus bore marks of kingship throughout his ministry, and reigns now as king on heaven’s throne, we are still waiting for his full revelation to the world as Israel’s great David-like King (2 Samuel 7:8–16; Matthew 22:41–45).<br />
<br />
In other words, though Jesus simultaneously occupies all three offices of Prophet, Priest, and King fully and eternally, on earth we are still living in the era of Jesus’s prophetic proclamation of the gospel (Matthew 28:19–20) and Jesus’s priestly mediation of God’s mercy toward sinners. Although everything is in subjection under his royal feet, “at present, we do not yet see everything in subjection to him” (Hebrews 2:8).<br />
<br />
'''Altar Before Scepter'''<br />
<br />
We all, like our ancient forebears, long for our righteous King of kings to finally put an end to the evil that is the cause of such misery and grief in our lives and in our world. As we celebrate the first coming of Christ, we join Zechariah in praise as we look to the future grace of Jesus’s kingly reign:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,<br><br />
for he has visited and redeemed his people<br><br />
and has raised up a horn of salvation for us<br><br />
in the house of his servant David,<br><br />
as he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,<br><br />
that we should be saved from our enemies<br><br />
and from the hand of all who hate us . . .<br><br />
that we, being delivered from the hand of our enemies, might serve him without fear,<br><br />
in holiness and righteousness before him all our days. (Luke 1:68–71, 74–75)</blockquote><br />
<br />
However, if a merciful priest doesn’t precede a righteous king, a righteous king’s reign is not good news to us. Because on our own, we are not holy and righteous, as God is. We are sinful and wicked. We all know this deep down. To stand before God with our sin unatoned for is destruction.<br />
<br />
That’s why we all need to encounter Jesus our High Priest before we encounter Jesus our High King. We need him to mediate God’s mercy to us by making “an offering for [our] guilt” (Isaiah 53:10) before he comes to “execute justice and righteousness in the land” (Jeremiah 33:15). We need him to serve at the altar before he wields the scepter (Hebrews 1:3).<br />
<br />
'''Tender Mercy of Our God'''<br />
<br />
Zechariah, being a priest, knew this. Which is why I think, as he turned his words to his infant son, the forerunner of the Messiah (Luke 1:16–17; Malachi 4:5–6), he ended his declaration of praise this way:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;<br><br />
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,<br><br />
to give knowledge of salvation to his people<br><br />
in the forgiveness of their sins,<br><br />
because of the tender mercy of our God,<br><br />
whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high<br><br />
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,<br><br />
to guide our feet into the way of peace. (Luke 1:76–79)</blockquote><br />
<br />
He knew the Messiah’s appearance wasn’t merely about God’s people being saved from their enemies, but about God’s people being saved from ''being'' God’s enemies because of the guilt of their own sins. The Messiah was coming to mediate the tender mercy of God, as well as his holy righteousness, that he might ultimately deliver us from all our danger.<br />
<br />
'''Born Is the Priest of Israel'''<br />
<br />
It is right for us to long for Jesus’s reign over all rebellious reality. It is right for us to “groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies,” which will come when Christ returns for his great earthly coronation (Romans 8:23). So, it is right for us to sing and celebrate the Advent of the “King of kings and Lord of lords” (Revelation 19:16).<br />
<br />
But it is also right to think of Christmas as a day to overflow with gratitude and celebrate with feasting the fact that Jesus came to consecrate us before his coronation. He came to make us righteous before assuming his reign. He came to become our sacrifice before becoming our Sovereign. In the tender mercy of our God, Jesus “has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to put away [our] sin by the sacrifice of himself” (Hebrews 9:26).<br />
<br />
So, I don’t think the anonymous hymn writer would be at all offended if we sometimes adapted the refrain and sang,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>''Noël, Noël, Noël, Noël, born is the Priest of Israel''.</blockquote><br />
<br />
Having first come as our Priest, we now have every reason to look forward to when our King “will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him” (Hebrews 9:28).</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/The_Pleasure_of_God_in_Ordinary_WorkThe Pleasure of God in Ordinary Work2023-01-03T19:01:45Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "The Pleasure of God in Ordinary Work" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}I wonder how many people in his day knew the apostle Paul as a guy who made and fixed tents. Surely many did. When he went to Corinth, he went to see Aquila and Priscilla, “and because he was of the same trade he stayed with them and worked, for they were tentmakers by trade” (Acts 18:3). He had been doing this for a while. He was well-acquainted with goat’s hair. He could probably tie his favorite knots without looking. He knew all the ways holes were made and how to mend them. I imagine, as it is with most trades, that some days he wished he could choose another one.<br />
<br />
I wonder how many knew the apostle Peter as a guy who caught fish. Surely many did. Even after Jesus died and rose and appeared to his disciples, where did he go to find his friend? Where Peter had spent so many long days and longer nights, where Jesus had first found him years before — fishing (John 21:3). He knew what each kind of fish smelled like (and if he forgot, his clothes could remind him). He had been through serious storms. He knew the best place to drop an anchor and the best times to cast the nets — and he knew what it was like to lift an empty one (like that night the risen Jesus suddenly appeared).<br />
<br />
I wonder how many knew Jesus as a guy who built tables and chairs. We know some did. When he returned to his hometown to preach, his former neighbors asked, “What is the wisdom given to him? How are such mighty works done by his hands? Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary?” (Mark 6:2–3). They were surprised by his words because they had grown so used to seeing him with saws and hammers and nails. He came not only in flesh and blood, but in sweat and toil. A man of splinters and acquainted with setbacks.<br />
<br />
Each of them altered history with their ministry (and none more than the God-man). Each of them also spent much of their life doing ordinary, even tedious work (perhaps even more ordinary than what lies before you). And each of them knew that work like theirs, done well, is anything but ordinary.<br />
<br />
'''Man Goes Out to Work'''<br />
<br />
We would do our work differently next year, wouldn’t we, if we could see even our ordinary work through the wider eyes of God. So where could we go to see what God sees in our work? I love the glimpses we get in the wild and wondrous world of Psalm 104.<br />
<br />
The psalm, like so many psalms, is meant to awaken awe and joy in our souls. It opens, verse 1, “Bless the Lord, O my soul!” But this psalm takes a less-traveled road to worship. When the psalmist sees the disconnect between what he believes about God and how he feels about God, he lets his mind wander over hills and through valleys (verse 8). He walks along springs and wades into oceans (verses 10, 25). He watches for badgers and listens for birds (verses 12, 18). Creation was his chosen hymnal, with all its familiar melodies and surprising key changes.<br />
<br />
But we were talking about ordinary work — and the psalmist gets there. Watch how man enters the scene: “The trees of the Lord are watered abundantly,” verse 16. “The high mountains are for the wild goats,” verse 18. “He made the moon to mark the seasons,” verse 19, “the sun knows its time for setting.” Verses 21–23,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>The young lions roar for their prey,<br><br />
seeking their food from God.<br><br />
When the sun rises, they steal away<br><br />
and lie down in their dens.<br><br />
Man goes out to his work<br><br />
and to his labor until the evening.</blockquote><br />
<br />
''Man goes out to his work, and puts in a full day''. It feels a little anticlimactic, right? The trees climb into the heavens, the mountains shake with wildlife, the lions roar their hunger for all to hear, the moon ushers in fall and winter and spring, the sun chooses when the sky goes from blue to red to purple to dark. . . . and Paul walks across town to mend another torn tent. Peter loads his boat for another day at sea.<br />
<br />
The psalmist sees something in man’s work, even the dullest, most wearying work, that we so often fail to see and experience in ours.<br />
<br />
'''Manifold Work of God'''<br />
<br />
Notice, the man of verse 23 wasn’t headed to a corner office with a nice desk and big windows. He wasn’t writing code for some revolutionary technology. He wasn’t overseeing warehouses on multiple continents. He was in a field, doing physical labor — no phone, no email, no sophisticated equipment. Just a man and his hands against the thorns and thistles. His ordinary work would make most of ours today (even the most physical) look pretty extraordinary.<br />
<br />
“Man goes out to his work and to his labor until the evening.” Very next verse, listen to this: “O Lord, how manifold are your works!” — trees and mountains and lions and the work that man can do — “In wisdom have you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures.” The ordinary work of man is one of the manifold works of God. Your work is one of the manifold works of God. No other creature on the planet can do what you do. What you can do in an hour or 2 or 8 with your mind and hands and gifts says as much or more about God as a sunset or a canyon or thunderstorm. Do you believe that? Do you work like it’s true?<br />
<br />
Only God could conceive of a creature capable of doing the work you’re called to do. Every working human you meet (white collar or blue collar; paid or unpaid; student, employee, manager, or stay-at-home mother) is a living canvas ''covered'' in the wisdom and creativity of God — whether they believe in him or not, whether they see the glory in their work or not. That they can do what they do, whatever they do and however well they do it, reminds us of just how much more God can do.<br />
<br />
'''God’s Pleasure in Your Work'''<br />
<br />
We haven’t seen enough in Psalm 104 yet, though. Not only is our ordinary work one of the manifold ''works'' of God; our ordinary work is one of the satisfying ''pleasures'' of God. After traveling over mountains with the wild goats and through caves with the rock badgers and over seas with sea monsters and into fields for a normal workday, the psalmist sings,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>May the glory of the Lord endure forever;<br><br />
may the Lord rejoice in his works,<br><br />
who looks on the earth and it trembles,<br><br />
who touches the mountains and they smoke! (Psalm 104:31–32)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Not, ''may we'' rejoice in his works. No, may he rejoice in his works. God’s not just putting on a show that a few nature-loving people might enjoy. No, he loves high mountains and winding valleys; he loves full moons and brilliant sunsets; he loves badgers, storks, and wild donkeys — and the everyday work we do week after week. He rejoices in what we’ve done, because it’s another glimpse of all he’s done.<br />
<br />
The God of the universe genuinely enjoys the universe he’s made — the one we get to live and work in every day, the one he designed as a gift for his Son (Hebrews 1:2). He rejoices to see what normal humans can do in a day — and all the more so when that work rises from a heart set on him. Even when everyone else seems to completely overlook what we’ve done, he sees and he smiles, because he sees the dim, but brilliant reflection of his own work.<br />
<br />
So, as you prepare for another year of work — perhaps hard, perhaps thankless, perhaps “ordinary” — ask God to help you see the work through his eyes. Ask him for some of the pleasure he takes in what you do.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/The_Pleasure_of_God_in_Ordinary_WorkThe Pleasure of God in Ordinary Work2023-01-03T19:01:37Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}I wonder how many people in his day knew the apostle Paul as a guy who made and fixed tents. Surely many did. When he went to Corinth, he went to see Aquila and Priscilla...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}I wonder how many people in his day knew the apostle Paul as a guy who made and fixed tents. Surely many did. When he went to Corinth, he went to see Aquila and Priscilla, “and because he was of the same trade he stayed with them and worked, for they were tentmakers by trade” (Acts 18:3). He had been doing this for a while. He was well-acquainted with goat’s hair. He could probably tie his favorite knots without looking. He knew all the ways holes were made and how to mend them. I imagine, as it is with most trades, that some days he wished he could choose another one.<br />
<br />
I wonder how many knew the apostle Peter as a guy who caught fish. Surely many did. Even after Jesus died and rose and appeared to his disciples, where did he go to find his friend? Where Peter had spent so many long days and longer nights, where Jesus had first found him years before — fishing (John 21:3). He knew what each kind of fish smelled like (and if he forgot, his clothes could remind him). He had been through serious storms. He knew the best place to drop an anchor and the best times to cast the nets — and he knew what it was like to lift an empty one (like that night the risen Jesus suddenly appeared).<br />
<br />
I wonder how many knew Jesus as a guy who built tables and chairs. We know some did. When he returned to his hometown to preach, his former neighbors asked, “What is the wisdom given to him? How are such mighty works done by his hands? Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary?” (Mark 6:2–3). They were surprised by his words because they had grown so used to seeing him with saws and hammers and nails. He came not only in flesh and blood, but in sweat and toil. A man of splinters and acquainted with setbacks.<br />
<br />
Each of them altered history with their ministry (and none more than the God-man). Each of them also spent much of their life doing ordinary, even tedious work (perhaps even more ordinary than what lies before you). And each of them knew that work like theirs, done well, is anything but ordinary.<br />
<br />
'''Man Goes Out to Work'''<br />
<br />
We would do our work differently next year, wouldn’t we, if we could see even our ordinary work through the wider eyes of God. So where could we go to see what God sees in our work? I love the glimpses we get in the wild and wondrous world of Psalm 104.<br />
<br />
The psalm, like so many psalms, is meant to awaken awe and joy in our souls. It opens, verse 1, “Bless the Lord, O my soul!” But this psalm takes a less-traveled road to worship. When the psalmist sees the disconnect between what he believes about God and how he feels about God, he lets his mind wander over hills and through valleys (verse 8). He walks along springs and wades into oceans (verses 10, 25). He watches for badgers and listens for birds (verses 12, 18). Creation was his chosen hymnal, with all its familiar melodies and surprising key changes.<br />
<br />
But we were talking about ordinary work — and the psalmist gets there. Watch how man enters the scene: “The trees of the Lord are watered abundantly,” verse 16. “The high mountains are for the wild goats,” verse 18. “He made the moon to mark the seasons,” verse 19, “the sun knows its time for setting.” Verses 21–23,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>The young lions roar for their prey,<br><br />
seeking their food from God.<br><br />
When the sun rises, they steal away<br><br />
and lie down in their dens.<br><br />
Man goes out to his work<br><br />
and to his labor until the evening.</blockquote><br />
<br />
''Man goes out to his work, and puts in a full day''. It feels a little anticlimactic, right? The trees climb into the heavens, the mountains shake with wildlife, the lions roar their hunger for all to hear, the moon ushers in fall and winter and spring, the sun chooses when the sky goes from blue to red to purple to dark. . . . and Paul walks across town to mend another torn tent. Peter loads his boat for another day at sea.<br />
<br />
The psalmist sees something in man’s work, even the dullest, most wearying work, that we so often fail to see and experience in ours.<br />
<br />
'''Manifold Work of God'''<br />
<br />
Notice, the man of verse 23 wasn’t headed to a corner office with a nice desk and big windows. He wasn’t writing code for some revolutionary technology. He wasn’t overseeing warehouses on multiple continents. He was in a field, doing physical labor — no phone, no email, no sophisticated equipment. Just a man and his hands against the thorns and thistles. His ordinary work would make most of ours today (even the most physical) look pretty extraordinary.<br />
<br />
“Man goes out to his work and to his labor until the evening.” Very next verse, listen to this: “O Lord, how manifold are your works!” — trees and mountains and lions and the work that man can do — “In wisdom have you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures.” The ordinary work of man is one of the manifold works of God. Your work is one of the manifold works of God. No other creature on the planet can do what you do. What you can do in an hour or 2 or 8 with your mind and hands and gifts says as much or more about God as a sunset or a canyon or thunderstorm. Do you believe that? Do you work like it’s true?<br />
<br />
Only God could conceive of a creature capable of doing the work you’re called to do. Every working human you meet (white collar or blue collar; paid or unpaid; student, employee, manager, or stay-at-home mother) is a living canvas ''covered'' in the wisdom and creativity of God — whether they believe in him or not, whether they see the glory in their work or not. That they can do what they do, whatever they do and however well they do it, reminds us of just how much more God can do.<br />
<br />
'''God’s Pleasure in Your Work'''<br />
<br />
We haven’t seen enough in Psalm 104 yet, though. Not only is our ordinary work one of the manifold ''works'' of God; our ordinary work is one of the satisfying ''pleasures'' of God. After traveling over mountains with the wild goats and through caves with the rock badgers and over seas with sea monsters and into fields for a normal workday, the psalmist sings,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>May the glory of the Lord endure forever;<br><br />
may the Lord rejoice in his works,<br><br />
who looks on the earth and it trembles,<br><br />
who touches the mountains and they smoke! (Psalm 104:31–32)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Not, ''may we'' rejoice in his works. No, may he rejoice in his works. God’s not just putting on a show that a few nature-loving people might enjoy. No, he loves high mountains and winding valleys; he loves full moons and brilliant sunsets; he loves badgers, storks, and wild donkeys — and the everyday work we do week after week. He rejoices in what we’ve done, because it’s another glimpse of all he’s done.<br />
<br />
The God of the universe genuinely enjoys the universe he’s made — the one we get to live and work in every day, the one he designed as a gift for his Son (Hebrews 1:2). He rejoices to see what normal humans can do in a day — and all the more so when that work rises from a heart set on him. Even when everyone else seems to completely overlook what we’ve done, he sees and he smiles, because he sees the dim, but brilliant reflection of his own work.<br />
<br />
So, as you prepare for another year of work — perhaps hard, perhaps thankless, perhaps “ordinary” — ask God to help you see the work through his eyes. Ask him for some of the pleasure he takes in what you do.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/We_Call_Him_%E2%80%98Father%E2%80%99We Call Him ‘Father’2023-01-03T17:36:46Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "We Call Him ‘Father’" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''The Privilege of Christian Prayer'''<br />
<br />
If you primarily think of God as your Father, and if you usually address God as ''Father'' when you pray, you have Jesus to thank. For prior to Jesus, no one — not in Judaism or in any other religious tradition — spoke of God or to God as Father in the personal ways Jesus did.<br />
<br />
It’s true that Old Testament saints occasionally referred to God as Israel’s father (Deuteronomy 32:6; Psalm 103:13) and even less occasionally called him their Father when they prayed (Isaiah 63:16). But the fact that they rarely did so reveals that they didn’t relate to God primarily as a ''Father''. Certainly not in the way Jesus did — which was also the way he taught all his followers to relate to God.<br />
<br />
'''‘Abba, Father’'''<br />
<br />
In all four Gospels, when Jesus speaks about God, he typically refers to him as his Father. And when the Gospel writers allow us to listen in on Jesus praying, we hear him addressing God as Father.<br />
<br />
This wasn’t merely an endearing metaphor to Jesus. God as his Father was a fundamental relational reality to him. This is clear when, as we hear him pray in Gethsemane, he cries, “Abba, Father” (Mark 14:36). ''Abba'' was the most common term Aramaic speakers used when speaking to their earthly fathers — Jesus and his (half) siblings would have used it when addressing Joseph.<br />
<br />
This familial way Jesus referred to God scandalized and outraged the Jewish leaders. They understood God as their Father the way a potter might be called the father of his clay creation (see Isaiah 64:8). But Jesus viewed God as his “Abba, Father” the way a child views the paternal parent who begot him. To the Jewish leaders, this led to blasphemy worthy of capital punishment, because “he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God” (John 5:18). Indeed, he was God’s own Son — a reality they tragically failed to discern.<br />
<br />
And astoundingly, Jesus, the “only Son from the Father” (John 1:14), wanted all of his disciples, we who are not sons of God the way he is, to also relate to God as our “Abba, Father.” For when Jesus provided us a model or pattern for how to pray, what Christians down through the ages have called the Lord’s Prayer, the first thing he taught us was to address God as “our Father in heaven” (Matthew 6:9).<br />
<br />
'''‘Our Father in Heaven’'''<br />
<br />
In quoting Jesus here, Matthew remarkably uses the Greek word ''pater'', the equivalent to ''Abba'' in Aramaic — the common, everyday term that everyone used for ''father''. Pause and ponder just how astounding the phrase “our Father in heaven” is, considering the reality it represents: God as our heavenly ''Pater, Abba, Father''.<br />
<br />
Unless you were raised in a different religious tradition, addressing God as “our Father” probably doesn’t strike you as presumptuous or offensive. It probably sounds normal, something we take for granted, like calling our earthly paternal parent our father. If we have lost our wonder over calling God our ''Father'', it’s time to recover it.<br />
<br />
'''‘Holy Father’'''<br />
<br />
Keep in mind that observant Jews have always considered God’s covenant name, Yahweh (Exodus 3:14), to be so holy that they dare not speak it aloud. When they write it, they abbreviate it to YHWH, so as not to profane God’s holy name through unholy human lips or hands. Even in English, many will write “G–d” instead of “God.” They consider it no small thing to speak of or to the “Holy One of Israel” (Psalm 71:22).<br />
<br />
Indeed, this One whom we call “Father” is the One before whom the four living creatures “day and night . . . never cease to say, ‘Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!’” (Revelation 4:8). He “is the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see” (1 Timothy 6:15–16). For no mere human can see him and live (Exodus 33:20).<br />
<br />
Even the only begotten Son — he who “in the beginning was . . . with God and . . . was God” (John 1:1), he who is the very “image of the invisible God” (Colossians 1:15), he whom God has “highly exalted” and on whom he “bestowed . . . the name that is above every other name” (Philippians 2:9) — this holy Son of God (Luke 1:35), who called God his “Abba, Father,” also addressed him as “''Holy'' Father” (John 17:11).<br />
<br />
What gives us — we “of unclean lips, [who] dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips” (Isaiah 6:5) — any right to call the Almighty “our Father”? Our holy Father himself and his holy Son, our Savior, give us this unfathomable privilege.<br />
<br />
'''See What Kind of Love'''<br />
<br />
It is good for our souls to pause and ponder the astounding fatherhood of God to us, especially if the reality has become too familiar, so we can see with fresh eyes the father-heart of God for us. That is what the Holy Spirit, through the apostle John, wants for us:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. (1 John 3:1)</blockquote><br />
<br />
And what kind of love has the Father given to us?<br />
<br />
<blockquote>In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. (1 John 4:9–10)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The Father so loved us that he gave his only begotten Son, that through believing in him we should not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16). And the Son so greatly loved us that he willingly laid his life down for us (John 15:13) to become the propitiation for our sins.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>To all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. (John 1:12–13)</blockquote><br />
<br />
It is no small thing for us to have the right to call the Holy One of Israel our Father, and ourselves his children. For at great cost,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ . . . has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. (Ephesians 1:3–6)</blockquote><br />
<br />
See with fresh eyes what kind of wonderful love the holy Father and the holy Son have given to us, that we should be called children of God.<br />
<br />
'''‘Pray Then Like This’'''<br />
<br />
This ocean of gracious love, this vast miracle of substitutionary atonement, this profound and mysterious gift of being both adopted by and born of God, is why when Jesus’s disciples asked him how they should pray to God, he began,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Pray then like this: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.” (Matthew 6:9)</blockquote><br />
<br />
God does not want us to relate to him as a mere subject relates to a king, or as a mere sheep relates to its shepherd. Fundamentally, he wants us to relate to him as a child relates to a loving, generous father who loves to give good gifts when his children ask him (Matthew 7:7–11). As Michael Reeves writes,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>When a person deliberately and confidently calls the Almighty “Father,” it shows they have grasped something beautiful and fundamental about who God is and to what they have been saved. And how that wins our hearts back to him! For the fact that God the Father is happy and even delights to share his love for his Son and thus be known as our Father reveals just how gracious and kind he is. (''Delighting in the Trinity'', 76)</blockquote><br />
<br />
If you primarily think of God as your ''Father'', and if you usually address God as Father when you pray, you have Jesus (and the Father) to thank — not only because he taught you to do so, but because he (and the Father) has given you the right to do so. And both Father and Son have provided you with the Holy Spirit — “the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” (Romans 8:15). Make good use of this grace. For your Father in heaven delights in his children.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/We_Call_Him_%E2%80%98Father%E2%80%99We Call Him ‘Father’2023-01-03T17:36:30Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''The Privilege of Christian Prayer''' If you primarily think of God as your Father, and if you usually address God as ''Father'' when you pray, you have Jesus to thank...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''The Privilege of Christian Prayer'''<br />
<br />
If you primarily think of God as your Father, and if you usually address God as ''Father'' when you pray, you have Jesus to thank. For prior to Jesus, no one — not in Judaism or in any other religious tradition — spoke of God or to God as Father in the personal ways Jesus did.<br />
<br />
It’s true that Old Testament saints occasionally referred to God as Israel’s father (Deuteronomy 32:6; Psalm 103:13) and even less occasionally called him their Father when they prayed (Isaiah 63:16). But the fact that they rarely did so reveals that they didn’t relate to God primarily as a ''Father''. Certainly not in the way Jesus did — which was also the way he taught all his followers to relate to God.<br />
<br />
'''‘Abba, Father’'''<br />
<br />
In all four Gospels, when Jesus speaks about God, he typically refers to him as his Father. And when the Gospel writers allow us to listen in on Jesus praying, we hear him addressing God as Father.<br />
<br />
This wasn’t merely an endearing metaphor to Jesus. God as his Father was a fundamental relational reality to him. This is clear when, as we hear him pray in Gethsemane, he cries, “Abba, Father” (Mark 14:36). ''Abba'' was the most common term Aramaic speakers used when speaking to their earthly fathers — Jesus and his (half) siblings would have used it when addressing Joseph.<br />
<br />
This familial way Jesus referred to God scandalized and outraged the Jewish leaders. They understood God as their Father the way a potter might be called the father of his clay creation (see Isaiah 64:8). But Jesus viewed God as his “Abba, Father” the way a child views the paternal parent who begot him. To the Jewish leaders, this led to blasphemy worthy of capital punishment, because “he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God” (John 5:18). Indeed, he was God’s own Son — a reality they tragically failed to discern.<br />
<br />
And astoundingly, Jesus, the “only Son from the Father” (John 1:14), wanted all of his disciples, we who are not sons of God the way he is, to also relate to God as our “Abba, Father.” For when Jesus provided us a model or pattern for how to pray, what Christians down through the ages have called the Lord’s Prayer, the first thing he taught us was to address God as “our Father in heaven” (Matthew 6:9).<br />
<br />
'''‘Our Father in Heaven’'''<br />
<br />
In quoting Jesus here, Matthew remarkably uses the Greek word ''pater'', the equivalent to ''Abba'' in Aramaic — the common, everyday term that everyone used for ''father''. Pause and ponder just how astounding the phrase “our Father in heaven” is, considering the reality it represents: God as our heavenly ''Pater, Abba, Father''.<br />
<br />
Unless you were raised in a different religious tradition, addressing God as “our Father” probably doesn’t strike you as presumptuous or offensive. It probably sounds normal, something we take for granted, like calling our earthly paternal parent our father. If we have lost our wonder over calling God our ''Father'', it’s time to recover it.<br />
<br />
'''‘Holy Father’'''<br />
<br />
Keep in mind that observant Jews have always considered God’s covenant name, Yahweh (Exodus 3:14), to be so holy that they dare not speak it aloud. When they write it, they abbreviate it to YHWH, so as not to profane God’s holy name through unholy human lips or hands. Even in English, many will write “G–d” instead of “God.” They consider it no small thing to speak of or to the “Holy One of Israel” (Psalm 71:22).<br />
<br />
Indeed, this One whom we call “Father” is the One before whom the four living creatures “day and night . . . never cease to say, ‘Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!’” (Revelation 4:8). He “is the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see” (1 Timothy 6:15–16). For no mere human can see him and live (Exodus 33:20).<br />
<br />
Even the only begotten Son — he who “in the beginning was . . . with God and . . . was God” (John 1:1), he who is the very “image of the invisible God” (Colossians 1:15), he whom God has “highly exalted” and on whom he “bestowed . . . the name that is above every other name” (Philippians 2:9) — this holy Son of God (Luke 1:35), who called God his “Abba, Father,” also addressed him as “''Holy'' Father” (John 17:11).<br />
<br />
What gives us — we “of unclean lips, [who] dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips” (Isaiah 6:5) — any right to call the Almighty “our Father”? Our holy Father himself and his holy Son, our Savior, give us this unfathomable privilege.<br />
<br />
'''See What Kind of Love'''<br />
<br />
It is good for our souls to pause and ponder the astounding fatherhood of God to us, especially if the reality has become too familiar, so we can see with fresh eyes the father-heart of God for us. That is what the Holy Spirit, through the apostle John, wants for us:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. (1 John 3:1)</blockquote><br />
<br />
And what kind of love has the Father given to us?<br />
<br />
<blockquote>In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. (1 John 4:9–10)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The Father so loved us that he gave his only begotten Son, that through believing in him we should not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16). And the Son so greatly loved us that he willingly laid his life down for us (John 15:13) to become the propitiation for our sins.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>To all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. (John 1:12–13)</blockquote><br />
<br />
It is no small thing for us to have the right to call the Holy One of Israel our Father, and ourselves his children. For at great cost,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ . . . has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. (Ephesians 1:3–6)</blockquote><br />
<br />
See with fresh eyes what kind of wonderful love the holy Father and the holy Son have given to us, that we should be called children of God.<br />
<br />
'''‘Pray Then Like This’'''<br />
<br />
This ocean of gracious love, this vast miracle of substitutionary atonement, this profound and mysterious gift of being both adopted by and born of God, is why when Jesus’s disciples asked him how they should pray to God, he began,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Pray then like this: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.” (Matthew 6:9)</blockquote><br />
<br />
God does not want us to relate to him as a mere subject relates to a king, or as a mere sheep relates to its shepherd. Fundamentally, he wants us to relate to him as a child relates to a loving, generous father who loves to give good gifts when his children ask him (Matthew 7:7–11). As Michael Reeves writes,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>When a person deliberately and confidently calls the Almighty “Father,” it shows they have grasped something beautiful and fundamental about who God is and to what they have been saved. And how that wins our hearts back to him! For the fact that God the Father is happy and even delights to share his love for his Son and thus be known as our Father reveals just how gracious and kind he is. (''Delighting in the Trinity'', 76)</blockquote><br />
<br />
If you primarily think of God as your ''Father'', and if you usually address God as Father when you pray, you have Jesus (and the Father) to thank — not only because he taught you to do so, but because he (and the Father) has given you the right to do so. And both Father and Son have provided you with the Holy Spirit — “the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” (Romans 8:15). Make good use of this grace. For your Father in heaven delights in his children.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/A_Rest_for_Any_RestlessnessA Rest for Any Restlessness2022-12-09T16:10:58Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "A Rest for Any Restlessness" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}If you could capture in a word what it feels like to live as a fallen human, far from Eden, what might you say? ''Sorrowful,'' perhaps, or ''broken''. ''Frustrating. Dark.'' There’s no one right answer. But one of the most profound appears in the famous opening lines of Augustine’s ''Confessions: restless''. “You have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you” (1.1.1).<br />
<br />
Deep in the human soul, a spirit of restlessness runs like an underground river: often unseen, often unrecognized, often denied, yet rumbling beneath so much of what we say, dream, and do.<br />
<br />
We easily mistake the bone-deep gnaw for something more superficial. We need a few days off, we think — or a better work-life balance, or a new job or apartment, or more recognition from our peers, or more understanding from our spouse. The advertising industry taps into the ache and offers a thousand ways to dam the restless flow: new experiences, new places, new things. Sometimes we buy it.<br />
<br />
These are whispers, snatches, songs in the wind: echoes of the thing we want, but not the thing itself. They may bring a measure of rest to mind or body (for a time), but they can no more dam the river than a stick can stop the Niagara. We long for something deeper.<br />
<br />
We want a rest that lasts beyond certain times (nights, weekends) and extends beyond certain places (bed, vacation spots). We want a rest that leads us like a pillar of fire and follows us like the goodness and mercy of God. We want a rest that wells up from within like living water. We want an unending Sabbath of the soul.<br />
<br />
'''Our Aching Restlessness'''<br />
<br />
But why the ache? Why the inner gnaw? Why the endless running restlessness?<br />
<br />
In the beginning, God weaved rest into the fabric of his unfallen world. Soul deep and heaven high, rest filled Eden’s very air. For God, after working for six days, crowned creation with the seventh: “On the seventh day God finished his work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day” (Genesis 2:2). “It is finished,” God said, and all creation enjoyed his rest.<br />
<br />
But the garden is long gone now. And between us and Eden’s rest stand cherubim holding a flaming sword (Genesis 3:24). When Adam and Eve left Eden’s gates, they left not only a place, but a whole posture of soul. They left the restful garden and entered a world without the seventh day.<br />
<br />
Outside God’s presence, our little attempts at rest — our sleep-ins and successes, our days off and entertainments, our life balances and purchases — are so many seeds planted in granite. We sow and dig and water, but the soil of our souls can’t hold the seeds; we look for rest and reap restlessness.<br />
<br />
Exiled from Eden, we need the God of the garden to once again become our God; we need the Lord of rest to be our Lord and Rest.<br />
<br />
'''Weekly Whisper'''<br />
<br />
Hope eventually came in the form of a commandment. “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy,” God told an Israel freshly redeemed from Egypt, that land of anti-Eden restlessness.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Six days you shall labor, and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. . . . For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day. (Exodus 20:8–11)</blockquote><br />
<br />
From then on, every seventh day became a witness to Eden’s lost world. And a whisper of what might be again.<br />
<br />
Yet it was only ever a whisper. For the week’s seventh day was not the seventh day; however much rest the Sabbath offered, it could not stop the river of human restlessness. The Sinai and wilderness generation, for all the Sabbaths they experienced, did not enter God’s true rest (Psalm 95:11; Hebrews 4:2). Later generations too easily profaned the Sabbath day — working, planning profits, calling the day a duty rather than a delight (Isaiah 58:13–14; Ezekiel 20:13–24; Amos 8:5). And in time, Israel’s leaders would lay burdens on the people too heavy for any Sabbath to lift (Matthew 23:4; Mark 2:27).<br />
<br />
And so, the Sabbath was a pointer, a prophecy, a partial melody filled with promise. As Israel’s animal sacrifices foretold the Lamb of God, and as the temple anticipated the Word made flesh, and as every king and priest shadowed the outline of the Messiah, so the weekly Sabbath spoke of a rest far greater than Saturday — and of a Lord from whose heart it would flow.<br />
<br />
'''Lord of the Sabbath'''<br />
<br />
Of course, a spiritually attentive Israelite always knew that soul-deep rest came not from the Sabbath itself, but from the Sabbath’s Lord. The day was “a Sabbath ''to the Lord your God”'' (Exodus 20:9), “a Sabbath of solemn rest, holy ''to the Lord”'' (Exodus 31:15), a time to hear God say again, “''I, the Lord,'' sanctify you” (Exodus 31:13). Sabbath rest was a stream in time; God himself was the fountain.<br />
<br />
Audacious, then, were those simple words of the Lord Jesus, spoken to the Pharisees in a Galilean grain field: “The Son of Man is lord of the Sabbath” (Matthew 12:8). Follow the stream of the Sabbath, Pharisees: walk its banks along the centuries — past Sinai, past Egypt, past even the creation week — and what you find is not a day, but a Lord. A Lord now standing in the grain field.<br />
<br />
Lest we miss the meaning and magnitude of these words, Matthew tells us that the Sabbath confrontation happened “at that time” — that is, just after Jesus spoke these famous words:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. (Matthew 11:28–29)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Note well that Jesus does not say he will ''point'' us toward the rest we long for, or even ''lead'' us there himself: he says he will ''give'' it to us. As Lord of the Sabbath, the deepest rest lies in his possession — in his gentle Sabbath heart. No longer, then, would the weary and heavy laden look to a ''day'' to find rest, but to a ''person''. He is our living, breathing, saving Seventh Day.<br />
<br />
'''Seventh Day for Your Soul'''<br />
<br />
Whatever kind of restlessness runs through your soul; whatever desperate river rumbles beneath your dream of days off, or your grasping for career advancement, or your social-media obsessions; whatever Edenic ache you carry within, Jesus’s invitation holds: “Come to me, ''all'' who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”<br />
<br />
Do you long for righteousness? He has already won it (Romans 3:26). Do you yearn for an identity? He calls you his own (Hebrews 2:11). Is success what you seek? He shares his victory (1 Corinthians 15:57). Do worries keep you awake? His shoulders can carry them (1 Peter 5:7). Do you lack others’ favor? You still have his (Romans 8:31). Do you feel trapped in the life you have? He is a world always new (John 21:25). Jesus holds a rest for every kind of restlessness, a Sabbath calm for every care, a seventh day for every soul.<br />
<br />
So how can we find our rest in him? We can begin by learning to call our longings for rest by their real names. When we begin to feel our familiar restlessness — as insecurity rises, or an impulse to buy something itches, or a desire to escape consumes us — we can say that what we really want is not praise, not possessions, not a change of job or city, and not even rest in the abstract, but ''Jesus,'' our Sabbath Lord. For ultimately, to say “I long for rest” means “I long for Christ.”<br />
<br />
'''Ocean Depth of Happy Rest'''<br />
<br />
Of course, the rest we know now in Jesus is only a foretaste of the greater rest to come. The Puritan Christopher Love once wrote, “Here in this world, joy . . . entereth into you, but in the world to come you shall enter into joy” (''The Genius of Puritanism'', 106). So too with rest: here in this world, rest enters into us, but in the world to come, we will enter into rest.<br />
<br />
One day soon, rest will be not only the stream of living water within, but the sea of living water without. We will walk through a world where rest rises from the soil and drops from the clouds. For the Lord of the Sabbath himself will reign in that land, bringing the seventh day back to an earth even better than Eden. He is the “ocean depth of happy rest,” as the hymn puts it, and forever his waves will wash over us.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/A_Rest_for_Any_RestlessnessA Rest for Any Restlessness2022-12-09T16:10:45Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}If you could capture in a word what it feels like to live as a fallen human, far from Eden, what might you say? ''Sorrowful,'' perhaps, or ''broken''. ''Frustrating. Dark...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}If you could capture in a word what it feels like to live as a fallen human, far from Eden, what might you say? ''Sorrowful,'' perhaps, or ''broken''. ''Frustrating. Dark.'' There’s no one right answer. But one of the most profound appears in the famous opening lines of Augustine’s ''Confessions: restless''. “You have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you” (1.1.1).<br />
<br />
Deep in the human soul, a spirit of restlessness runs like an underground river: often unseen, often unrecognized, often denied, yet rumbling beneath so much of what we say, dream, and do.<br />
<br />
We easily mistake the bone-deep gnaw for something more superficial. We need a few days off, we think — or a better work-life balance, or a new job or apartment, or more recognition from our peers, or more understanding from our spouse. The advertising industry taps into the ache and offers a thousand ways to dam the restless flow: new experiences, new places, new things. Sometimes we buy it.<br />
<br />
These are whispers, snatches, songs in the wind: echoes of the thing we want, but not the thing itself. They may bring a measure of rest to mind or body (for a time), but they can no more dam the river than a stick can stop the Niagara. We long for something deeper.<br />
<br />
We want a rest that lasts beyond certain times (nights, weekends) and extends beyond certain places (bed, vacation spots). We want a rest that leads us like a pillar of fire and follows us like the goodness and mercy of God. We want a rest that wells up from within like living water. We want an unending Sabbath of the soul.<br />
<br />
'''Our Aching Restlessness'''<br />
<br />
But why the ache? Why the inner gnaw? Why the endless running restlessness?<br />
<br />
In the beginning, God weaved rest into the fabric of his unfallen world. Soul deep and heaven high, rest filled Eden’s very air. For God, after working for six days, crowned creation with the seventh: “On the seventh day God finished his work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day” (Genesis 2:2). “It is finished,” God said, and all creation enjoyed his rest.<br />
<br />
But the garden is long gone now. And between us and Eden’s rest stand cherubim holding a flaming sword (Genesis 3:24). When Adam and Eve left Eden’s gates, they left not only a place, but a whole posture of soul. They left the restful garden and entered a world without the seventh day.<br />
<br />
Outside God’s presence, our little attempts at rest — our sleep-ins and successes, our days off and entertainments, our life balances and purchases — are so many seeds planted in granite. We sow and dig and water, but the soil of our souls can’t hold the seeds; we look for rest and reap restlessness.<br />
<br />
Exiled from Eden, we need the God of the garden to once again become our God; we need the Lord of rest to be our Lord and Rest.<br />
<br />
'''Weekly Whisper'''<br />
<br />
Hope eventually came in the form of a commandment. “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy,” God told an Israel freshly redeemed from Egypt, that land of anti-Eden restlessness.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Six days you shall labor, and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. . . . For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day. (Exodus 20:8–11)</blockquote><br />
<br />
From then on, every seventh day became a witness to Eden’s lost world. And a whisper of what might be again.<br />
<br />
Yet it was only ever a whisper. For the week’s seventh day was not the seventh day; however much rest the Sabbath offered, it could not stop the river of human restlessness. The Sinai and wilderness generation, for all the Sabbaths they experienced, did not enter God’s true rest (Psalm 95:11; Hebrews 4:2). Later generations too easily profaned the Sabbath day — working, planning profits, calling the day a duty rather than a delight (Isaiah 58:13–14; Ezekiel 20:13–24; Amos 8:5). And in time, Israel’s leaders would lay burdens on the people too heavy for any Sabbath to lift (Matthew 23:4; Mark 2:27).<br />
<br />
And so, the Sabbath was a pointer, a prophecy, a partial melody filled with promise. As Israel’s animal sacrifices foretold the Lamb of God, and as the temple anticipated the Word made flesh, and as every king and priest shadowed the outline of the Messiah, so the weekly Sabbath spoke of a rest far greater than Saturday — and of a Lord from whose heart it would flow.<br />
<br />
'''Lord of the Sabbath'''<br />
<br />
Of course, a spiritually attentive Israelite always knew that soul-deep rest came not from the Sabbath itself, but from the Sabbath’s Lord. The day was “a Sabbath ''to the Lord your God”'' (Exodus 20:9), “a Sabbath of solemn rest, holy ''to the Lord”'' (Exodus 31:15), a time to hear God say again, “''I, the Lord,'' sanctify you” (Exodus 31:13). Sabbath rest was a stream in time; God himself was the fountain.<br />
<br />
Audacious, then, were those simple words of the Lord Jesus, spoken to the Pharisees in a Galilean grain field: “The Son of Man is lord of the Sabbath” (Matthew 12:8). Follow the stream of the Sabbath, Pharisees: walk its banks along the centuries — past Sinai, past Egypt, past even the creation week — and what you find is not a day, but a Lord. A Lord now standing in the grain field.<br />
<br />
Lest we miss the meaning and magnitude of these words, Matthew tells us that the Sabbath confrontation happened “at that time” — that is, just after Jesus spoke these famous words:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. (Matthew 11:28–29)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Note well that Jesus does not say he will ''point'' us toward the rest we long for, or even ''lead'' us there himself: he says he will ''give'' it to us. As Lord of the Sabbath, the deepest rest lies in his possession — in his gentle Sabbath heart. No longer, then, would the weary and heavy laden look to a ''day'' to find rest, but to a ''person''. He is our living, breathing, saving Seventh Day.<br />
<br />
'''Seventh Day for Your Soul'''<br />
<br />
Whatever kind of restlessness runs through your soul; whatever desperate river rumbles beneath your dream of days off, or your grasping for career advancement, or your social-media obsessions; whatever Edenic ache you carry within, Jesus’s invitation holds: “Come to me, ''all'' who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”<br />
<br />
Do you long for righteousness? He has already won it (Romans 3:26). Do you yearn for an identity? He calls you his own (Hebrews 2:11). Is success what you seek? He shares his victory (1 Corinthians 15:57). Do worries keep you awake? His shoulders can carry them (1 Peter 5:7). Do you lack others’ favor? You still have his (Romans 8:31). Do you feel trapped in the life you have? He is a world always new (John 21:25). Jesus holds a rest for every kind of restlessness, a Sabbath calm for every care, a seventh day for every soul.<br />
<br />
So how can we find our rest in him? We can begin by learning to call our longings for rest by their real names. When we begin to feel our familiar restlessness — as insecurity rises, or an impulse to buy something itches, or a desire to escape consumes us — we can say that what we really want is not praise, not possessions, not a change of job or city, and not even rest in the abstract, but ''Jesus,'' our Sabbath Lord. For ultimately, to say “I long for rest” means “I long for Christ.”<br />
<br />
'''Ocean Depth of Happy Rest'''<br />
<br />
Of course, the rest we know now in Jesus is only a foretaste of the greater rest to come. The Puritan Christopher Love once wrote, “Here in this world, joy . . . entereth into you, but in the world to come you shall enter into joy” (''The Genius of Puritanism'', 106). So too with rest: here in this world, rest enters into us, but in the world to come, we will enter into rest.<br />
<br />
One day soon, rest will be not only the stream of living water within, but the sea of living water without. We will walk through a world where rest rises from the soil and drops from the clouds. For the Lord of the Sabbath himself will reign in that land, bringing the seventh day back to an earth even better than Eden. He is the “ocean depth of happy rest,” as the hymn puts it, and forever his waves will wash over us.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/How_to_Care_for_the_Brokenhearted_at_ChristmasHow to Care for the Brokenhearted at Christmas2022-12-09T15:58:31Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "How to Care for the Brokenhearted at Christmas" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}The more joys and sorrows I live through personally and see in those around me, the more convinced I am that Christmas — over any other season — tends to make life’s sweet things sweeter and hard things harder.<br />
<br />
For some, this Christmas will bring a burst of excitement as we fill our homes with lights, carols, and generations of those we love. For others, each day will be a feat of endurance as we trudge through reminders of lack, or memories of loss. Given Jesus’s assurance that in this life we will have trouble (John 16:33), we likely will experience Christmases of both kinds (if we haven’t already).<br />
<br />
Those facing a dark season of disappointment and pain can find comfort in God’s promise to draw near to the brokenhearted and save the crushed in spirit (Psalm 34:18). Meanwhile, those anticipating a bright season of gratitude and cheer can reflect the compassion of our God by drawing near to the brokenhearted around us.<br />
<br />
The Savior we celebrate this Christmas sees our tears (Psalm 56:8), draws near (Psalm 145:18), and is with us always (Matthew 28:20). Likewise, we reflect his lovingkindness as we remember the sufferers around us, invite them in, step into needs, and remain steadfastly present through it all.<br />
<br />
'''1. Remember the Sufferers'''<br />
<br />
For those of us in a vibrant Christmas of gladness, it may be easy to forget harder seasons we’ve had in the past. Those now enjoying the constant closeness of a spouse may forget how lonely it was to be single at Christmas, longing for marriage. Those now settled into their ideal home may forget the restlessness of a vagabond Christmas spent in transitory places. Those now in a place of financial stability may forget the stress of a Christmas spent anxiously trying to pay bills, feed a family, and sacrifice to scrounge up a gift.<br />
<br />
As we consider our past trials and the encouragement and promises we clung to most, we are quicker to identify with and comfort others in their affliction with the comfort we first received from Christ (2 Corinthians 1:4). The memory of our sufferings often softens our hearts toward others in theirs.<br />
<br />
Some of the most meaningful care I’ve ever received has come from the thoughtfulness and intentionality of those who consistently checked in on me through periods of hardship — especially prolonged ones. We too can follow up on prayer requests shared in small group weeks prior, text our friends when their grief crosses our minds, bake cookies for a neighbor spending Christmas alone, or write a note of encouragement to a struggling coworker. We might even call a family member on an especially hard day in the Christmas season. In doing so, we assure the struggling that their sorrows aren’t overlooked.<br />
<br />
Jesus came at Christmas to be a merciful and faithful high priest (Hebrews 2:17). We can likewise be merciful, faithful people who keep the hurting on our hearts and express it, thus reflecting how he keeps them on his.<br />
<br />
'''2. Invite Them In'''<br />
<br />
Grief can be lonely — especially in a season so centered on togetherness. But this season is built around the welcoming of Immanuel (Matthew 1:23) — the God with us always, whose life and death invites us into unbroken fellowship with him and a love from which nothing can separate us (Romans 8:38–39). As Christ has welcomed us, so he commands us to welcome one another, that God might be glorified in this reflection of him (Romans 15:7).<br />
<br />
In both instinctive and inconvenient ways, we can welcome the lonely into our enjoyment this season. We might ask them to join us in picking out a tree, invite them over to watch a Christmas movie, save them a seat with our family during the Christmas Eve service, or welcome them to our Christmas lunch. Our God sets the lonely in families (Psalm 68:6). We can be one of those families this season, open-armed with others as God our Father sent Christ our brother to be for us.<br />
<br />
'''3. Step into Needs'''<br />
<br />
Oftentimes, others’ troubles are so great and their adversity so devastating that we (rightly) perceive the ways God must intervene to counsel and restore as only he can. But even as we pray for him to do so for the hurting this Christmas, we can look for small, immediate opportunities to step into tangible needs, as just faint echoes of the Word made flesh at Christmas to feed, heal, and provide for those he dwelled among (John 1:14).<br />
<br />
Maybe he’ll lead us to buy Christmas gifts for the children of parents who were just laid off, shovel snow for a neighbor with debilitating pain, or drive an elderly church member to visit grandchildren. And when we are at a loss as to what would be most beneficial to those struggling around us, we can humble ourselves to ask them — seeking what would actually be best rather than trying to serve in ways that might inadvertently burden them. God knows what we need before we even ask (Matthew 6:8), but we are not him.<br />
<br />
We likely can’t solve others’ greatest problems, but we can meet peripheral needs to reflect the Shepherd who sees and offers to meet their deepest ones.<br />
<br />
'''4. Remain Present'''<br />
<br />
We spend a lot of time at Christmas talking about presents, often forgetting the root of the word as presence — a precious gift and ministry we can offer the sorrowful around us. As we pray with the grieving in silence because truth has already been spoken and we can’t think of anything left to say, as we sit with the fearful in hospital rooms waiting on an update, as we hold the hands of those crying in our living rooms, we can trust the Holy Spirit to intercede for us with groanings too deep for words (Romans 8:26).<br />
<br />
Our God is continually with us (Psalm 73:23). We can’t (and don’t need to) be omnipresent with others. But we can offer the comfort of (even our silent) presence as a small demonstration of the steadfastness of his.<br />
<br />
'''Reflecting the Light of the World'''<br />
<br />
Given both the joys and sorrows around us this season, we would do well to begin in prayer, asking for a tender heart moved by the afflictions of those around us, for God to mend what only he can, for discernment in how he can make us vessels of his healing mercy, and for willing spirits to be used as such.<br />
<br />
The first Christmas was a sunrise from on high (Luke 1:78–79) — our merciful God coming to give light to us in darkness and guide our feet into the way of peace as we walk through both the sweet things Christmas makes sweeter and the hard things Christmas makes harder. The baby we celebrate this season was sent to bind up the brokenhearted (Isaiah 61:1) — both our brokenheartedness and that of those around us — and we reflect the Light of the World this season by carrying on his ministry with the compassion, wisdom, and faithfulness found in him.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/How_to_Care_for_the_Brokenhearted_at_ChristmasHow to Care for the Brokenhearted at Christmas2022-12-09T15:58:22Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}The more joys and sorrows I live through personally and see in those around me, the more convinced I am that Christmas — over any other season — tends to make life’...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}The more joys and sorrows I live through personally and see in those around me, the more convinced I am that Christmas — over any other season — tends to make life’s sweet things sweeter and hard things harder.<br />
<br />
For some, this Christmas will bring a burst of excitement as we fill our homes with lights, carols, and generations of those we love. For others, each day will be a feat of endurance as we trudge through reminders of lack, or memories of loss. Given Jesus’s assurance that in this life we will have trouble (John 16:33), we likely will experience Christmases of both kinds (if we haven’t already).<br />
<br />
Those facing a dark season of disappointment and pain can find comfort in God’s promise to draw near to the brokenhearted and save the crushed in spirit (Psalm 34:18). Meanwhile, those anticipating a bright season of gratitude and cheer can reflect the compassion of our God by drawing near to the brokenhearted around us.<br />
<br />
The Savior we celebrate this Christmas sees our tears (Psalm 56:8), draws near (Psalm 145:18), and is with us always (Matthew 28:20). Likewise, we reflect his lovingkindness as we remember the sufferers around us, invite them in, step into needs, and remain steadfastly present through it all.<br />
<br />
'''1. Remember the Sufferers'''<br />
<br />
For those of us in a vibrant Christmas of gladness, it may be easy to forget harder seasons we’ve had in the past. Those now enjoying the constant closeness of a spouse may forget how lonely it was to be single at Christmas, longing for marriage. Those now settled into their ideal home may forget the restlessness of a vagabond Christmas spent in transitory places. Those now in a place of financial stability may forget the stress of a Christmas spent anxiously trying to pay bills, feed a family, and sacrifice to scrounge up a gift.<br />
<br />
As we consider our past trials and the encouragement and promises we clung to most, we are quicker to identify with and comfort others in their affliction with the comfort we first received from Christ (2 Corinthians 1:4). The memory of our sufferings often softens our hearts toward others in theirs.<br />
<br />
Some of the most meaningful care I’ve ever received has come from the thoughtfulness and intentionality of those who consistently checked in on me through periods of hardship — especially prolonged ones. We too can follow up on prayer requests shared in small group weeks prior, text our friends when their grief crosses our minds, bake cookies for a neighbor spending Christmas alone, or write a note of encouragement to a struggling coworker. We might even call a family member on an especially hard day in the Christmas season. In doing so, we assure the struggling that their sorrows aren’t overlooked.<br />
<br />
Jesus came at Christmas to be a merciful and faithful high priest (Hebrews 2:17). We can likewise be merciful, faithful people who keep the hurting on our hearts and express it, thus reflecting how he keeps them on his.<br />
<br />
'''2. Invite Them In'''<br />
<br />
Grief can be lonely — especially in a season so centered on togetherness. But this season is built around the welcoming of Immanuel (Matthew 1:23) — the God with us always, whose life and death invites us into unbroken fellowship with him and a love from which nothing can separate us (Romans 8:38–39). As Christ has welcomed us, so he commands us to welcome one another, that God might be glorified in this reflection of him (Romans 15:7).<br />
<br />
In both instinctive and inconvenient ways, we can welcome the lonely into our enjoyment this season. We might ask them to join us in picking out a tree, invite them over to watch a Christmas movie, save them a seat with our family during the Christmas Eve service, or welcome them to our Christmas lunch. Our God sets the lonely in families (Psalm 68:6). We can be one of those families this season, open-armed with others as God our Father sent Christ our brother to be for us.<br />
<br />
'''3. Step into Needs'''<br />
<br />
Oftentimes, others’ troubles are so great and their adversity so devastating that we (rightly) perceive the ways God must intervene to counsel and restore as only he can. But even as we pray for him to do so for the hurting this Christmas, we can look for small, immediate opportunities to step into tangible needs, as just faint echoes of the Word made flesh at Christmas to feed, heal, and provide for those he dwelled among (John 1:14).<br />
<br />
Maybe he’ll lead us to buy Christmas gifts for the children of parents who were just laid off, shovel snow for a neighbor with debilitating pain, or drive an elderly church member to visit grandchildren. And when we are at a loss as to what would be most beneficial to those struggling around us, we can humble ourselves to ask them — seeking what would actually be best rather than trying to serve in ways that might inadvertently burden them. God knows what we need before we even ask (Matthew 6:8), but we are not him.<br />
<br />
We likely can’t solve others’ greatest problems, but we can meet peripheral needs to reflect the Shepherd who sees and offers to meet their deepest ones.<br />
<br />
'''4. Remain Present'''<br />
<br />
We spend a lot of time at Christmas talking about presents, often forgetting the root of the word as presence — a precious gift and ministry we can offer the sorrowful around us. As we pray with the grieving in silence because truth has already been spoken and we can’t think of anything left to say, as we sit with the fearful in hospital rooms waiting on an update, as we hold the hands of those crying in our living rooms, we can trust the Holy Spirit to intercede for us with groanings too deep for words (Romans 8:26).<br />
<br />
Our God is continually with us (Psalm 73:23). We can’t (and don’t need to) be omnipresent with others. But we can offer the comfort of (even our silent) presence as a small demonstration of the steadfastness of his.<br />
<br />
'''Reflecting the Light of the World'''<br />
<br />
Given both the joys and sorrows around us this season, we would do well to begin in prayer, asking for a tender heart moved by the afflictions of those around us, for God to mend what only he can, for discernment in how he can make us vessels of his healing mercy, and for willing spirits to be used as such.<br />
<br />
The first Christmas was a sunrise from on high (Luke 1:78–79) — our merciful God coming to give light to us in darkness and guide our feet into the way of peace as we walk through both the sweet things Christmas makes sweeter and the hard things Christmas makes harder. The baby we celebrate this season was sent to bind up the brokenhearted (Isaiah 61:1) — both our brokenheartedness and that of those around us — and we reflect the Light of the World this season by carrying on his ministry with the compassion, wisdom, and faithfulness found in him.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/The_Secret_Failure_of_Many_LeadersThe Secret Failure of Many Leaders2022-12-09T15:55:21Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "The Secret Failure of Many Leaders" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}They bought jeans already torn at the knees. The ambassadors from the great city left in haste to make peace with Joshua and his coming armies. But first, locals reported seeing them rummage through clothes at the local thrift store. Their pretend shabbiness served a vital purpose: survival.<br />
<br />
Gibeon lay in the direct path of Joshua’s conquest. He, his men, and their God would be there within days. When the citizens of Gibeon heard what Israel’s God had done to Pharoah, to Jericho, and to Ai, they trembled. Though “greater than Ai,” they shuddered. Who could overcome a plague-punishing, wall-crumbling, city-engulfing Israel and her invisible God?<br />
<br />
Their ragtag ambassadors — armed with worn-out sacks, patched sandals, tattered clothes, torn and mended wineskins, and “dry and crumbly” provisions (Joshua 9:4–5) — served as Gibeon’s salvation army. They intercepted Joshua at Gilgal saying in strained voice, “We have come from a ''distant country'', so now make a covenant with us” (Joshua 9:6). Would their lie be discovered?<br />
<br />
“Who are you? And where do you come from?” Joshua replies.<br />
<br />
They reiterate their deception and add more drama to their performance:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>“Here is our bread. It was still warm when we took it from our houses as our food for the journey on the day we set out to come to you, but now, behold it is dry and crumbly.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“These wineskins were new when we filled them, and behold, they have burst.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“And these garments and sandals of ours are worn out from the very long journey.” (Joshua 9:12–13)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Joshua looks at the bread, the wineskins, the sandals, the garments, and decides to make a covenant with them. The text interprets that decision for us: “So the men took some of their provisions, ''but did not ask counsel from the Lord''” (Joshua 9:14).<br />
<br />
'''Failure of Good Leaders'''<br />
<br />
Joshua, the son of Nun, was an excellent leader. If you were to write a book on leadership, you could hardly improve upon his example.<br />
<br />
From the start, he had large sandals to fill. Moses, the sea-splitting shepherd, the mountain-climbing mediator, the law-providing prophet, now lay dead. Millions of eyes turned Joshua’s way — eyes of a people too given to squint in deadly disapproval. Would he be able to lead them into the Promised Land? Would they be led into the Promised Land?<br />
<br />
In the face of vast armies, fortified cities, and fatal chariots, God’s commission to Joshua required force and bravery — which his very presence supplied, if Joshua would trust him. And Joshua did. He routinely risked life and limb venturing upon God’s word. In the end, he seizes and divides the Promised Land among God’s people.<br />
<br />
Until now, just one potential blemish stood on his resumé: an early defeat at Ai. Although the rout might have besmeared Joshua, the punishment rightfully fell to covetous Achan. But now, in giving a forbidden covenant to Israel’s enemies, a caveat must be given concerning Joshua’s leadership. Seeing the ragtag group of ambassadors before him, he made the reasonable deduction that they must have traveled a far distance. He trusted what he saw.<br />
<br />
He did not make that mistake when overlooking the land with the spies. He trembled not at giants. But here, he believed his eyes, went with his ears, depended on his cohort of rulers who all did the same — ''he did not ask counsel from the Lord''. The matter seemed straightforward enough; they could handle it themselves. Here, Joshua commits the common fault of many successful leaders over time: He forgets to consult his God.<br />
<br />
'''Boast of Businessmen'''<br />
<br />
How tempting is this for Christian leaders today?<br />
<br />
You’ve given sermons or taught Sunday school or written articles in the past, and your Lord stood with you. You have made decisions for family, for your company, for your children, and God has blessed them. This time feels no different than then. So, without thinking much about it, you switch to autopilot, lean on your wisdom and strength, and grow more forgetful in prayer. Success is taken for granted, gratitude shrinks, presumption ascends.<br />
<br />
I imagine something like this happened to the Christian businessmen in the first century. James confronts them this way,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.” As it is, you boast in your arrogance. All such boasting is evil. (James 4:13–16)</blockquote><br />
<br />
I imagine these CEOs of the early church trusted their Lord at first. They did not presume success in financial endeavors, but humbly prayed, “Lord, give us this day our daily bread.” But assets began to pile. Their net worth took eagle’s wings. Steady profit seemed “the way of things,” the result of shrewd investment and hard work. Their mouths soon betrayed the evil boasting of their hearts about their future exploits. They beheld an elegantly dressed Gibeon of financial gain, and too forgot to consult their Lord and his will, as if theirs alone mattered.<br />
<br />
'''As at Other Times'''<br />
<br />
Oh how long this prayerless pride can grow undetected. Few sit down and decide not to consult Christ; none barricade the door to their prayer closets. They just become too busy; their felt-need no longer pushes them over the threshold. They begin to handle things on their own.<br />
<br />
Charles Spurgeon knew the pull of prayerlessness — and how devastating pastoral prayerlessness could be to a congregation. He warns his seminary students,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>When your soul becomes lean, your hearers, without knowing how or why, will find that your prayers in public have little savor for them; they will feel your barrenness, perhaps before you perceive it yourself. Your discourses will next betray your declension. You may utter as well-chosen words, and as fitly-ordered sentences, as aforetime; but there will be a perceptible loss of spiritual force. (''Lectures to My Students'')</blockquote><br />
<br />
Good Christian leaders, especially pastors, will tremble at this spiritual Samsonhood. After Delilah’s barbarous treachery, he awoke from his sleep saying to himself, “I will go out ''as at other times'' and shake myself free” (Judges 16:20). Unbeknownst to him, he went forth alone.<br />
<br />
How regrettable are those prayerless actions and petitionless seasons? We go out as before, expecting God to be with us as before, not knowing that he has withdrawn his aid, his blessing. Temptation overcomes us; we’re left with the dry and crumbly bread of our disobedience. God may let us take a few steps on our own and draw up this treaty or that. Before long, we’re barreling forth in own wisdom and energy to the injury of ourselves and others. God gives more grace, but as any pastor can testify, the cuts and bruises still hurt.<br />
<br />
'''Eyes on You'''<br />
<br />
Joshua and the elders of Israel trusted their eyes, forgetting to look to God in prayer for help with what their eyes could not see. Will we learn from them? Will we live and serve looking to our Father in even seemingly small matters?<br />
<br />
Strong trials often slap us awake. Jehoshaphat, pressed by bloodthirsty enemies, couldn’t help but pray: “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you” (2 Chronicles 20:12). Extreme circumstances leave our strength in the dust, tuning the heart to pray. But how many of us pray like this over the repetitive, seemingly common tasks involved in Christian life and leadership? “Lord, our eyes are on you” — even though we have successfully preached and taught and prayed and led many times before.<br />
<br />
Taller than Jehoshaphat stood Jesus. If anyone could judge with his eyes, if anyone could charge out as before, if anyone could say, “Next year I will go into such and such a town,” it was the God-man.<br />
<br />
Yet follow the gaze of the Son in all its wonder and mystery: “Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do ''nothing'' of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise” (John 5:19). When Jesus chose disciples, or reclined at table, or answered the scribes, or taught in the synagogue, or went forth from a city, or stopped along the road — his eyes never left his Father. He acted from a rhythm of consciously consulting above. He inquired of his Father at every step — particularly the bloody ones that led up Golgotha’s hill. His was not simply the resolve of a moment but the willing trajectory of a lifetime: “Not my will, but yours, be done.”<br />
<br />
Would you want life any other way than “looking to Jesus” in all matters, big and seemingly small? Will you not joyfully, speedily, constantly bring every request to him? In childlikeness, will we not rush in with every small request, even as an excuse to go to him? Jesus’s gracious throne of help is as near as a single Godward thought, a bowed knee, a desperate glance.<br />
<br />
His death secured this grand privilege. Our King of love smiles, beckons us near to give communion and counsel. Godly leaders, go to him increasingly, happily, with every and all sizes of request.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/The_Secret_Failure_of_Many_LeadersThe Secret Failure of Many Leaders2022-12-09T15:55:11Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}They bought jeans already torn at the knees. The ambassadors from the great city left in haste to make peace with Joshua and his coming armies. But first, locals reported...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}They bought jeans already torn at the knees. The ambassadors from the great city left in haste to make peace with Joshua and his coming armies. But first, locals reported seeing them rummage through clothes at the local thrift store. Their pretend shabbiness served a vital purpose: survival.<br />
<br />
Gibeon lay in the direct path of Joshua’s conquest. He, his men, and their God would be there within days. When the citizens of Gibeon heard what Israel’s God had done to Pharoah, to Jericho, and to Ai, they trembled. Though “greater than Ai,” they shuddered. Who could overcome a plague-punishing, wall-crumbling, city-engulfing Israel and her invisible God?<br />
<br />
Their ragtag ambassadors — armed with worn-out sacks, patched sandals, tattered clothes, torn and mended wineskins, and “dry and crumbly” provisions (Joshua 9:4–5) — served as Gibeon’s salvation army. They intercepted Joshua at Gilgal saying in strained voice, “We have come from a ''distant country'', so now make a covenant with us” (Joshua 9:6). Would their lie be discovered?<br />
<br />
“Who are you? And where do you come from?” Joshua replies.<br />
<br />
They reiterate their deception and add more drama to their performance:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>“Here is our bread. It was still warm when we took it from our houses as our food for the journey on the day we set out to come to you, but now, behold it is dry and crumbly.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“These wineskins were new when we filled them, and behold, they have burst.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“And these garments and sandals of ours are worn out from the very long journey.” (Joshua 9:12–13)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Joshua looks at the bread, the wineskins, the sandals, the garments, and decides to make a covenant with them. The text interprets that decision for us: “So the men took some of their provisions, ''but did not ask counsel from the Lord''” (Joshua 9:14).<br />
<br />
'''Failure of Good Leaders'''<br />
<br />
Joshua, the son of Nun, was an excellent leader. If you were to write a book on leadership, you could hardly improve upon his example.<br />
<br />
From the start, he had large sandals to fill. Moses, the sea-splitting shepherd, the mountain-climbing mediator, the law-providing prophet, now lay dead. Millions of eyes turned Joshua’s way — eyes of a people too given to squint in deadly disapproval. Would he be able to lead them into the Promised Land? Would they be led into the Promised Land?<br />
<br />
In the face of vast armies, fortified cities, and fatal chariots, God’s commission to Joshua required force and bravery — which his very presence supplied, if Joshua would trust him. And Joshua did. He routinely risked life and limb venturing upon God’s word. In the end, he seizes and divides the Promised Land among God’s people.<br />
<br />
Until now, just one potential blemish stood on his resumé: an early defeat at Ai. Although the rout might have besmeared Joshua, the punishment rightfully fell to covetous Achan. But now, in giving a forbidden covenant to Israel’s enemies, a caveat must be given concerning Joshua’s leadership. Seeing the ragtag group of ambassadors before him, he made the reasonable deduction that they must have traveled a far distance. He trusted what he saw.<br />
<br />
He did not make that mistake when overlooking the land with the spies. He trembled not at giants. But here, he believed his eyes, went with his ears, depended on his cohort of rulers who all did the same — ''he did not ask counsel from the Lord''. The matter seemed straightforward enough; they could handle it themselves. Here, Joshua commits the common fault of many successful leaders over time: He forgets to consult his God.<br />
<br />
'''Boast of Businessmen'''<br />
<br />
How tempting is this for Christian leaders today?<br />
<br />
You’ve given sermons or taught Sunday school or written articles in the past, and your Lord stood with you. You have made decisions for family, for your company, for your children, and God has blessed them. This time feels no different than then. So, without thinking much about it, you switch to autopilot, lean on your wisdom and strength, and grow more forgetful in prayer. Success is taken for granted, gratitude shrinks, presumption ascends.<br />
<br />
I imagine something like this happened to the Christian businessmen in the first century. James confronts them this way,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.” As it is, you boast in your arrogance. All such boasting is evil. (James 4:13–16)</blockquote><br />
<br />
I imagine these CEOs of the early church trusted their Lord at first. They did not presume success in financial endeavors, but humbly prayed, “Lord, give us this day our daily bread.” But assets began to pile. Their net worth took eagle’s wings. Steady profit seemed “the way of things,” the result of shrewd investment and hard work. Their mouths soon betrayed the evil boasting of their hearts about their future exploits. They beheld an elegantly dressed Gibeon of financial gain, and too forgot to consult their Lord and his will, as if theirs alone mattered.<br />
<br />
'''As at Other Times'''<br />
<br />
Oh how long this prayerless pride can grow undetected. Few sit down and decide not to consult Christ; none barricade the door to their prayer closets. They just become too busy; their felt-need no longer pushes them over the threshold. They begin to handle things on their own.<br />
<br />
Charles Spurgeon knew the pull of prayerlessness — and how devastating pastoral prayerlessness could be to a congregation. He warns his seminary students,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>When your soul becomes lean, your hearers, without knowing how or why, will find that your prayers in public have little savor for them; they will feel your barrenness, perhaps before you perceive it yourself. Your discourses will next betray your declension. You may utter as well-chosen words, and as fitly-ordered sentences, as aforetime; but there will be a perceptible loss of spiritual force. (''Lectures to My Students'')</blockquote><br />
<br />
Good Christian leaders, especially pastors, will tremble at this spiritual Samsonhood. After Delilah’s barbarous treachery, he awoke from his sleep saying to himself, “I will go out ''as at other times'' and shake myself free” (Judges 16:20). Unbeknownst to him, he went forth alone.<br />
<br />
How regrettable are those prayerless actions and petitionless seasons? We go out as before, expecting God to be with us as before, not knowing that he has withdrawn his aid, his blessing. Temptation overcomes us; we’re left with the dry and crumbly bread of our disobedience. God may let us take a few steps on our own and draw up this treaty or that. Before long, we’re barreling forth in own wisdom and energy to the injury of ourselves and others. God gives more grace, but as any pastor can testify, the cuts and bruises still hurt.<br />
<br />
'''Eyes on You'''<br />
<br />
Joshua and the elders of Israel trusted their eyes, forgetting to look to God in prayer for help with what their eyes could not see. Will we learn from them? Will we live and serve looking to our Father in even seemingly small matters?<br />
<br />
Strong trials often slap us awake. Jehoshaphat, pressed by bloodthirsty enemies, couldn’t help but pray: “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you” (2 Chronicles 20:12). Extreme circumstances leave our strength in the dust, tuning the heart to pray. But how many of us pray like this over the repetitive, seemingly common tasks involved in Christian life and leadership? “Lord, our eyes are on you” — even though we have successfully preached and taught and prayed and led many times before.<br />
<br />
Taller than Jehoshaphat stood Jesus. If anyone could judge with his eyes, if anyone could charge out as before, if anyone could say, “Next year I will go into such and such a town,” it was the God-man.<br />
<br />
Yet follow the gaze of the Son in all its wonder and mystery: “Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do ''nothing'' of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise” (John 5:19). When Jesus chose disciples, or reclined at table, or answered the scribes, or taught in the synagogue, or went forth from a city, or stopped along the road — his eyes never left his Father. He acted from a rhythm of consciously consulting above. He inquired of his Father at every step — particularly the bloody ones that led up Golgotha’s hill. His was not simply the resolve of a moment but the willing trajectory of a lifetime: “Not my will, but yours, be done.”<br />
<br />
Would you want life any other way than “looking to Jesus” in all matters, big and seemingly small? Will you not joyfully, speedily, constantly bring every request to him? In childlikeness, will we not rush in with every small request, even as an excuse to go to him? Jesus’s gracious throne of help is as near as a single Godward thought, a bowed knee, a desperate glance.<br />
<br />
His death secured this grand privilege. Our King of love smiles, beckons us near to give communion and counsel. Godly leaders, go to him increasingly, happily, with every and all sizes of request.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Honor_an_Old_FaceHonor an Old Face2022-12-09T04:35:40Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "Honor an Old Face" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''The Lost Art of Respecting Our Elders'''<br />
<br />
Moses, in the classic movie ''The Ten Commandments'' (1956), goes down to oversee the work of the Hebrew slaves. He does not yet know that he too is Hebrew by birth; Egypt’s golden chalice rests comfortably in hand. He arrives after the taskmasters have seized Joshua (his future assistant and successor), who just rescued an old Hebrew woman nearly crushed under a large stone.<br />
<br />
Deaf to pleas to spare the old woman, the taskmasters had refused to halt the workforce to free her. The woman couldn’t escape. So Joshua went down and struck an Egyptian overseer, halting the work immediately, sparing her life and forfeiting his own.<br />
<br />
Moses, prince of Egypt, arrives at the behest of a Hebrew woman. Hearing what happened, he asks Joshua, “Do you know it is death to strike an Egyptian?”<br />
<br />
<blockquote>“I know it,” he responds.</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“Yet you struck him. ''Why?''”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“To save the old woman.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“What is she to you?”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“''An old woman''.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
Moses took less time to recover from the slap than I did. ''Because she is an old woman''. I realized how much more Moses I was, than Joshua, in this exchange. Joshua had a clear moral category I lacked: that of saving an old woman simply because she is an endangered old woman. His heroism needed no further explanation or incentive. She did not need to be his mother, his aunt, or his queen. For Joshua to forfeit his own life for hers, all she needed to be was an old woman, desperate for help.<br />
<br />
'''Inner Calculus'''<br />
<br />
This exchange left a mark because I imagined my own inner calculus in the crisis:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Do what you can — chide the taskmasters for their insensitivity and murder; receive a lashing for it even — but don’t be so foolish as to lay down your own life for hers.</blockquote><br />
<br />
To do otherwise seemed bad math.<br />
<br />
She already stood with one foot in the grave. Her best days of productivity, of house and community building, faded in the rearview. The way of women had ceased with her (Genesis 18:11). Weak and frail, she had mere days and months ahead of her; I gripped years and decades by the throat. Her sun was setting; I was rising. How could her remaining life outweigh mine?<br />
<br />
And yet, in a flash of glory Joshua strikes the oppressors, venturing to substitute his life for hers.<br />
<br />
'''Death of Honor'''<br />
<br />
Do you know such calculations on a smaller scale? Are we today a people known for honoring our elderly with our time, resources, and attention? Or is it not the case that if a friend should proverbially walk an old lady across the street, we would instinctively ask, “Who is she to you?” The youthful, the innovative, the beautiful, the YouTube sensations, the celebrities and professional athletes receive our admiration. The enfeebled, the mostly spent, the hard of hearing and seeing and walking do not.<br />
<br />
Is it not true that the elderly mostly live in the background of our attention, cast as the extra pecking away at an iPhone, trying to send a text? Youth are rarely taught to honor grandma and grandpa, let alone the aged in general.<br />
<br />
The scene of this endangered old woman comes closer to God’s timeless expectations than our assumptions today. The real Moses would soon write a law that read, “You shall stand up before the gray head and honor the face of an old man, and you shall fear your God: I am the Lord” (Leviticus 19:32). A special respect and care were due to the elderly of Israel.<br />
<br />
Why don’t we stand before the elderly man in our midst? Why so little honor paid to the weathered face of the old woman? Why so little fear of God? Of the many options, I contribute two that have discipled me to give less regard to the elderly than is fitting.<br />
<br />
'''1. Information Age'''<br />
<br />
Throughout time, the elderly have served as sages of the community. They have experienced and lived, lost and learned lessons lacking among the untested thoughts and ideals of youth.<br />
<br />
So Job spoke, “Wisdom is with the aged, and understanding in length of days” (Job 12:12). So Elihu explained his deference in saying, “Let days speak, and many years teach wisdom” (Job 32:7). And so Paul exhorts that the ''older'' women are to “teach what is good, and ''so train the young women'' to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands” (Titus 2:3–5). Generally, the elderly ought not only to be the wisest among us, but also regarded as so.<br />
<br />
But what is ''abuelo'' and ''abuela'' compared with all-wise Google? What can they tell me that a quick search can’t? Expertise on anything under the sun lies at my fingertips. What good is one old chief, viewing life from his narrow, dated lens, compared with a million sages with advanced degrees, anticipating the next trends and offering unsleeping counsel on anything I care to know?<br />
<br />
Jesus taught that Christians who lose family for his sake receive back a hundredfold in the church. We seem to believe that those who lose wisdom from the elderly receive back a millionfold on the Internet.<br />
<br />
'''2. Cosmetic Age'''<br />
<br />
Our society does not like to look at death. Our funerals are short; our grieving brief. When the signs of the end begin, we cover it. We dye our hair. We get fake teeth. We iron wrinkles and use liposuction. We diet and make-up and teeth-whiten to preserve the appearance that we will live forever. While living, we embalm.<br />
<br />
We all dread the infirmities old age brings. Solomon, in Ecclesiastes 12:1–8, captures the “evil days” of aging in poetic terms. These are days when one says, “I have no pleasure in them” (verse 1). Days when the sun and moon and stars darken, and you live under perpetual cloud (verse 2). Days when hands and arms shake violently, strong men hunch, and your grinders — your teeth — cease because they are few (verse 3). Days lived indoors with light sleeping and little hearing (verse 4). Days afraid of heights, days of graying hair and shriveled appetite (verse 5). Days when the golden bowl begins cracking, the silver chord begins fraying, and the body prepares to return to dust and the spirit to God (verse 6–7). Vanity of vanities, the Preacher concludes (verse 8).<br />
<br />
And so what are we to do with these weathered boats with tattered masts sailing among us, these reminders of what the crash of time and sin is doing to us all? Honor them or ignore them? See glory in their worn faces or our own inevitable defeat? In the halls of honor, we do not keep dying flowers.<br />
<br />
'''Testimonies and Silver Crowns'''<br />
<br />
Our God would have us stand up before the gray head and honor the old face.<br />
<br />
What can the aged teach us (a question already lacking humility)? Well, while any elderly person can speak of the scars and successes of human experience, the old saints in the church can tell you about a lifetime of God’s faithfulness, his kindness, his steadfast love.<br />
<br />
Siri will not answer how good God has been to her. Google cannot testify that even to old age, God has carried him through countless trials (Isaiah 46:4). The wrinkled face of the saint with a wrinkled Bible is a treasure to all who love God and want to know him more. And the elderly saint, “full of sap and green,” has a testimony and wisdom that the young and beautiful and strong need to hear (Psalm 92:12–15). David wanted to age for this very purpose: “Even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come” (Psalms 71:18).<br />
<br />
And what of the challenges of growing frail? How do we commend that? The Bible also speaks of fullness of days as a splendor. “The glory of young men is their strength, but the splendor of old men is their gray hair” (Proverbs 20:29). We see the glory, but not the splendor. And, “Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained in a righteous life” (Proverbs 16:31). Gray hair crowns an old and well-lived life, one that should be celebrated, not overlooked.<br />
<br />
We miss much of the wisdom and glory of old age when the elderly dwell apart. Ancient times did not have government-run nursing homes, social-security programs, or retirement centers. All three converged in one place: the household. With multigenerational living now mostly a thing of the past in the West, we pick and choose to see our elderly family or not, affording them little influence in our lives. And without multigenerational representation, we can miss it in the church as well.<br />
<br />
'''Lost Message'''<br />
<br />
Of course, some elderly people have not lived wisely or well. Yet, John Piper observes, “There are tokens of respect and demonstrations of honor that belong to older people, simply because they are older. God has granted them to live long, and you shall fear your God by honoring the men and women who have borne his image to old age.”<br />
<br />
The fear of God presides over this honor. Piper again says of Psalm 71,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>This text commands the younger ones among us not to stride presumptuously and carelessly into the presence of an older person as though we were crossing no gap — as though we and they were simply peers with no special respect and honor to be shown to them. “You shall rise up before the gray head; you shall show honor to face of an old person.” . . .</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>And the loss of these manners of respect from baby boomers and teenagers is directly related to their small view of God and the contemporary foreignness of the idea of the fear of God. If God has become a buddy, you can hardly expect people to stand when an old man enters the room.</blockquote><br />
<br />
“The old saints in the church can tell you about a lifetime of God’s faithfulness, his kindness, his steadfast love.”<br />
Some elderly among us forfeit degrees of honor because of how they lived. Yet old age is still to be acknowledged. We take the customs of our culture and communicate to our elders, “You are venerable.”<br />
<br />
'''Honor the Old Face'''<br />
<br />
Technological advances, state-run nursing homes, the worship of innovation and progress, and Western individualism may make it seem unnatural to show special honor to the elderly. Society little incentivizes my generation to look to old heads for wisdom or show deference or respect. The old is passing away; the new has come.<br />
<br />
But while we smirk at the old man struggling with his iPhone, or shake our head as the old woman drives 30 miles per hour under the speed limit, God calls for honor. While we size up the gray hair and wrinkled faces for what we think they contribute to the progress of society, God might have us stand when they enter the room.<br />
<br />
Do you honor the gray head in your family, neighborhood, church? When the world observes how we behave among the elderly — especially the elderly in the church — and they wonder aloud, “What is she to you?”<br />
<br />
In the fear of the Lord, reply, ''“An old woman.”''</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Honor_an_Old_FaceHonor an Old Face2022-12-09T04:35:28Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''The Lost Art of Respecting Our Elders''' Moses, in the classic movie ''The Ten Commandments'' (1956), goes down to oversee the work of the Hebrew slaves. He does not ...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''The Lost Art of Respecting Our Elders'''<br />
<br />
Moses, in the classic movie ''The Ten Commandments'' (1956), goes down to oversee the work of the Hebrew slaves. He does not yet know that he too is Hebrew by birth; Egypt’s golden chalice rests comfortably in hand. He arrives after the taskmasters have seized Joshua (his future assistant and successor), who just rescued an old Hebrew woman nearly crushed under a large stone.<br />
<br />
Deaf to pleas to spare the old woman, the taskmasters had refused to halt the workforce to free her. The woman couldn’t escape. So Joshua went down and struck an Egyptian overseer, halting the work immediately, sparing her life and forfeiting his own.<br />
<br />
Moses, prince of Egypt, arrives at the behest of a Hebrew woman. Hearing what happened, he asks Joshua, “Do you know it is death to strike an Egyptian?”<br />
<br />
<blockquote>“I know it,” he responds.</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“Yet you struck him. ''Why?''”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“To save the old woman.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“What is she to you?”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“''An old woman''.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
Moses took less time to recover from the slap than I did. ''Because she is an old woman''. I realized how much more Moses I was, than Joshua, in this exchange. Joshua had a clear moral category I lacked: that of saving an old woman simply because she is an endangered old woman. His heroism needed no further explanation or incentive. She did not need to be his mother, his aunt, or his queen. For Joshua to forfeit his own life for hers, all she needed to be was an old woman, desperate for help.<br />
<br />
'''Inner Calculus'''<br />
<br />
This exchange left a mark because I imagined my own inner calculus in the crisis:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Do what you can — chide the taskmasters for their insensitivity and murder; receive a lashing for it even — but don’t be so foolish as to lay down your own life for hers.</blockquote><br />
<br />
To do otherwise seemed bad math.<br />
<br />
She already stood with one foot in the grave. Her best days of productivity, of house and community building, faded in the rearview. The way of women had ceased with her (Genesis 18:11). Weak and frail, she had mere days and months ahead of her; I gripped years and decades by the throat. Her sun was setting; I was rising. How could her remaining life outweigh mine?<br />
<br />
And yet, in a flash of glory Joshua strikes the oppressors, venturing to substitute his life for hers.<br />
<br />
'''Death of Honor'''<br />
<br />
Do you know such calculations on a smaller scale? Are we today a people known for honoring our elderly with our time, resources, and attention? Or is it not the case that if a friend should proverbially walk an old lady across the street, we would instinctively ask, “Who is she to you?” The youthful, the innovative, the beautiful, the YouTube sensations, the celebrities and professional athletes receive our admiration. The enfeebled, the mostly spent, the hard of hearing and seeing and walking do not.<br />
<br />
Is it not true that the elderly mostly live in the background of our attention, cast as the extra pecking away at an iPhone, trying to send a text? Youth are rarely taught to honor grandma and grandpa, let alone the aged in general.<br />
<br />
The scene of this endangered old woman comes closer to God’s timeless expectations than our assumptions today. The real Moses would soon write a law that read, “You shall stand up before the gray head and honor the face of an old man, and you shall fear your God: I am the Lord” (Leviticus 19:32). A special respect and care were due to the elderly of Israel.<br />
<br />
Why don’t we stand before the elderly man in our midst? Why so little honor paid to the weathered face of the old woman? Why so little fear of God? Of the many options, I contribute two that have discipled me to give less regard to the elderly than is fitting.<br />
<br />
'''1. Information Age'''<br />
<br />
Throughout time, the elderly have served as sages of the community. They have experienced and lived, lost and learned lessons lacking among the untested thoughts and ideals of youth.<br />
<br />
So Job spoke, “Wisdom is with the aged, and understanding in length of days” (Job 12:12). So Elihu explained his deference in saying, “Let days speak, and many years teach wisdom” (Job 32:7). And so Paul exhorts that the ''older'' women are to “teach what is good, and ''so train the young women'' to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands” (Titus 2:3–5). Generally, the elderly ought not only to be the wisest among us, but also regarded as so.<br />
<br />
But what is ''abuelo'' and ''abuela'' compared with all-wise Google? What can they tell me that a quick search can’t? Expertise on anything under the sun lies at my fingertips. What good is one old chief, viewing life from his narrow, dated lens, compared with a million sages with advanced degrees, anticipating the next trends and offering unsleeping counsel on anything I care to know?<br />
<br />
Jesus taught that Christians who lose family for his sake receive back a hundredfold in the church. We seem to believe that those who lose wisdom from the elderly receive back a millionfold on the Internet.<br />
<br />
'''2. Cosmetic Age'''<br />
<br />
Our society does not like to look at death. Our funerals are short; our grieving brief. When the signs of the end begin, we cover it. We dye our hair. We get fake teeth. We iron wrinkles and use liposuction. We diet and make-up and teeth-whiten to preserve the appearance that we will live forever. While living, we embalm.<br />
<br />
We all dread the infirmities old age brings. Solomon, in Ecclesiastes 12:1–8, captures the “evil days” of aging in poetic terms. These are days when one says, “I have no pleasure in them” (verse 1). Days when the sun and moon and stars darken, and you live under perpetual cloud (verse 2). Days when hands and arms shake violently, strong men hunch, and your grinders — your teeth — cease because they are few (verse 3). Days lived indoors with light sleeping and little hearing (verse 4). Days afraid of heights, days of graying hair and shriveled appetite (verse 5). Days when the golden bowl begins cracking, the silver chord begins fraying, and the body prepares to return to dust and the spirit to God (verse 6–7). Vanity of vanities, the Preacher concludes (verse 8).<br />
<br />
And so what are we to do with these weathered boats with tattered masts sailing among us, these reminders of what the crash of time and sin is doing to us all? Honor them or ignore them? See glory in their worn faces or our own inevitable defeat? In the halls of honor, we do not keep dying flowers.<br />
<br />
'''Testimonies and Silver Crowns'''<br />
<br />
Our God would have us stand up before the gray head and honor the old face.<br />
<br />
What can the aged teach us (a question already lacking humility)? Well, while any elderly person can speak of the scars and successes of human experience, the old saints in the church can tell you about a lifetime of God’s faithfulness, his kindness, his steadfast love.<br />
<br />
Siri will not answer how good God has been to her. Google cannot testify that even to old age, God has carried him through countless trials (Isaiah 46:4). The wrinkled face of the saint with a wrinkled Bible is a treasure to all who love God and want to know him more. And the elderly saint, “full of sap and green,” has a testimony and wisdom that the young and beautiful and strong need to hear (Psalm 92:12–15). David wanted to age for this very purpose: “Even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come” (Psalms 71:18).<br />
<br />
And what of the challenges of growing frail? How do we commend that? The Bible also speaks of fullness of days as a splendor. “The glory of young men is their strength, but the splendor of old men is their gray hair” (Proverbs 20:29). We see the glory, but not the splendor. And, “Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained in a righteous life” (Proverbs 16:31). Gray hair crowns an old and well-lived life, one that should be celebrated, not overlooked.<br />
<br />
We miss much of the wisdom and glory of old age when the elderly dwell apart. Ancient times did not have government-run nursing homes, social-security programs, or retirement centers. All three converged in one place: the household. With multigenerational living now mostly a thing of the past in the West, we pick and choose to see our elderly family or not, affording them little influence in our lives. And without multigenerational representation, we can miss it in the church as well.<br />
<br />
'''Lost Message'''<br />
<br />
Of course, some elderly people have not lived wisely or well. Yet, John Piper observes, “There are tokens of respect and demonstrations of honor that belong to older people, simply because they are older. God has granted them to live long, and you shall fear your God by honoring the men and women who have borne his image to old age.”<br />
<br />
The fear of God presides over this honor. Piper again says of Psalm 71,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>This text commands the younger ones among us not to stride presumptuously and carelessly into the presence of an older person as though we were crossing no gap — as though we and they were simply peers with no special respect and honor to be shown to them. “You shall rise up before the gray head; you shall show honor to face of an old person.” . . .</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>And the loss of these manners of respect from baby boomers and teenagers is directly related to their small view of God and the contemporary foreignness of the idea of the fear of God. If God has become a buddy, you can hardly expect people to stand when an old man enters the room.</blockquote><br />
<br />
“The old saints in the church can tell you about a lifetime of God’s faithfulness, his kindness, his steadfast love.”<br />
Some elderly among us forfeit degrees of honor because of how they lived. Yet old age is still to be acknowledged. We take the customs of our culture and communicate to our elders, “You are venerable.”<br />
<br />
'''Honor the Old Face'''<br />
<br />
Technological advances, state-run nursing homes, the worship of innovation and progress, and Western individualism may make it seem unnatural to show special honor to the elderly. Society little incentivizes my generation to look to old heads for wisdom or show deference or respect. The old is passing away; the new has come.<br />
<br />
But while we smirk at the old man struggling with his iPhone, or shake our head as the old woman drives 30 miles per hour under the speed limit, God calls for honor. While we size up the gray hair and wrinkled faces for what we think they contribute to the progress of society, God might have us stand when they enter the room.<br />
<br />
Do you honor the gray head in your family, neighborhood, church? When the world observes how we behave among the elderly — especially the elderly in the church — and they wonder aloud, “What is she to you?”<br />
<br />
In the fear of the Lord, reply, ''“An old woman.”''</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/How_to_Care_for_a_PastorHow to Care for a Pastor2022-11-27T19:19:30Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "How to Care for a Pastor" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Five Ways to Uplift Your Shepherds'''<br />
<br />
Like a viper from the bushes, the Amalek attacked Israel. The shores had not yet washed clean of Pharoah’s army, nor had the people reached Sinai, before new enemies emerged: “Then Amalek came and fought with Israel at Rephidim” (Exodus 17:8).<br />
<br />
Desperate circumstance made soldiers of slaves. Moses, their commander and chief, instructed Joshua to gather men and march into battle. Moses would take a different route, fight on a different front: “Tomorrow I will stand on the top of the hill with the staff of God in my hand” (Exodus 17:9).<br />
<br />
So it happened. “Whenever Moses held up his hand, Israel prevailed, and whenever he lowered his hand, Amalek prevailed” (Exodus 17:10–11). A strange way to win or lose a battle. The lives of men suspended in midair with Moses’s staff. Held high, Israel aggressed. As hands drooped, Amalek played havoc. The prophet learned that gravity is an unrelenting foe: “Moses’ hands grew weary” (Exodus 17:12).<br />
<br />
Pastors too know such weariness — this burn of holding their arms up in intercession for God’s people. Almost tireless, see them upon the hill, day in day out, month in month out, year in year out. Seasons change, but there they are upon the peak. Sometimes it all seems useless. Sometimes it is thankless. The sunbeams of complaints beat upon the brow; the sorrows of their people wear on the spirit. Gravity, in ministry, is an unrelenting foe.<br />
<br />
Years pass. Arms droop. Just a few years, and some pastors have dropped them altogether. Blessed then, is the pastor who has Aaron and Hur with him:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Moses’s hands grew weary, so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it, while Aaron and Hur held up his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side. So his hands were steady until the going down of the sun. And Joshua overwhelmed Amalek and his people with the sword. (Exodus 17:12–13)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The proverb is here embodied: “Though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him — a threefold cord is not quickly broken” (Ecclesiastes 4:12). Blessed is the man who stands with brother elders at his side, but abundantly blessed is he who has a whole church holding up his arms.<br />
<br />
'''How to Love Your Pastor'''<br />
<br />
Before becoming one, I rarely asked, How do I best care for my pastors? How can I be a blessing to them, refresh them, uphold their arms? My pastors always seemed to have it together. I needed their help, it seemed, on a one-way street. But Scripture does not show it to be so. Drawing from John Owen’s short but excellent little book Duties of Christian Fellowship, consider a few ways a flock cares well for their shepherd.<br />
<br />
'''1. Esteem Them'''<br />
<br />
Some families find it easy to spend the car ride home from church doing little more than criticizing the pastor and his sermon. I stand convicted overhearing Charles Spurgeon,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Filled with the same spirit of contrariety, the men of this world still depreciate the ministers whom God sends them and profess that they would gladly listen if different preachers could be found. Nothing can please them, their cavils are dealt out with heedless universality. Cephas is too blunt, Apollos is too flowery, Paul is too argumentative, Timothy is too young, James is too severe, John is too gentle. (''Eclectic Preachers'')</blockquote><br />
<br />
How important, then, to have the primary description of a flock’s relationship to its pastors be one of ''esteem''.<br />
<br />
Overhear the apostle enjoin what many a humble pastor might blush to mention: “We ask you, brothers, to respect those who labor among you and are over you in the Lord and admonish you, and to esteem them very highly in love because of their work” (1 Thessalonians 5:12–13). ''Esteem them very highly in love because of their work''. Does this describe you? Or for that to happen, does the pastor need to have generational giftings and fit your preferences?<br />
<br />
'''2. Imitate Them'''<br />
<br />
Consider one way the author of Hebrews calls us to esteem them: “Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith” (Hebrews 13:7). Imitation is the sincerest form of esteem.<br />
<br />
Are your pastors especially humble, careful with their words, fearless in adversity, tender to the wayward, deeply knowledgeable of the Scriptures, happy in Christ, constant in prayer, God-fearing fathers, husbands, leaders, evangelists? What in their lives of faith do you imitate in yours? Consider the outcome of their lives and imitate them. And ''tell them'' you are doing so.<br />
<br />
John Owen calls Christians to cover their pastor’s weaknesses in love, recognizing that their teachers’ lives are “a means of grace from God provided as a relief for them when under temptation, and an encouragement to holiness, zeal, meekness and self-denial” (19). Are you neglecting this example for your faith — the pastors’ lives — whose feet, though made of clay, support a life above reproach? In a hero-less world, are your pastors a model you look to regularly?<br />
<br />
'''3. Pray for Them'''<br />
<br />
How much do you pray for your pastors?<br />
<br />
If some spent as much time praying for their pastors as they did spotlighting their weaknesses, they might not have them anymore. The question stands, “Is it realized that any perceived weakness in the pastor’s ministry may be due to the prayerlessness of the church?” (''Duties'', 22).<br />
<br />
Heaven will reveal how much a pastor was upheld by the prayers of his people (or not). You may be down on the field of battle with Joshua, but if you really care to uphold his arms upon the hill — pray for him. May your prayers be stones for him to sit upon.<br />
<br />
It has been said of Spurgeon that when asked about his great success in ministry, he remarked simply, “My people pray for me.” And on another occasion, he brought visitors down to the “boiler room” of the church, the place that gave it power and heat. He opened the door, and the visitors beheld hundreds praying before the service started.<br />
<br />
Do you pray ''for'' your pastors to be kept by Jesus, to be upheld and satisfied in Jesus? And do you pray ''with'' your pastors, that souls be saved to Jesus and the church matured for Jesus?<br />
<br />
'''4. Stand by Them'''<br />
<br />
May it never be the anxious thought of your pastors’ minds: ''Where are they?''<br />
<br />
Paul was left to ask this question, sending the sad report to Timothy: “At my first defense no one came to stand by me, but all deserted me. May it not be charged against them!” (2 Timothy 4:16).<br />
<br />
Do you leave your pastors to charge in alone? Owen remarks, “When a captain, advancing against danger, looks back expecting to see his soldiers with him but finds that they have run away, he is greatly betrayed and forced into an impossible position by his enemies” (28).<br />
<br />
How different is it to have or be a church full of Onesiphoruses? Paul reports,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>May the Lord grant mercy to the household of Onesiphorus, for he often refreshed me and was not ashamed of my chains, but when he arrived in Rome he searched for me earnestly and found me — may the Lord grant him to find mercy from the Lord on that day! — and you well know all the service he rendered at Ephesus. (2 Timothy 1:16–18)</blockquote><br />
<br />
We can hear the gratitude spattering from Paul’s pen. Pastors are men who grow weary like the rest of us — even young pastors run and grow tired. They receive more opposition, criticism, and slander than the normal churchman. Beyond this, shepherds accept invitations into all the bitter things of the church — adulteries, betrayals, deaths, and divisions. Pastoring is a good and hard work. They stand and contest with demonic bears and lions for their sheep’s sake — will the church not stand with them?<br />
<br />
How might you support your pastors, help them, encourage them, defend them? Resist the world’s consumer mindset and take responsibility to help nurture the flock — disciple, serve, volunteer. Remember, they equip you for the work of ministry and will be mightily encouraged to see you doing it (Ephesians 4:13).<br />
<br />
'''5. Help Them Love You'''<br />
<br />
A final way to care for your pastors is to help them care for your soul.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with groaning, for that would be of no advantage to you. (Hebrews 13:17)</blockquote><br />
<br />
A wise flock wants its shepherds to lead ''with'' joy. As they seek to shepherd you, follow their lead to Jesus, be ready to be persuaded by their teaching, submit to their guidance as far as Scripture allows. Do so readily, eagerly, thankfully that they might cheerfully discharge their eternal duty of caring for your immortal soul (for which they will give an account).<br />
<br />
Following your shepherds’ lead is to your own advantage. Happy pastors pastor better. If a plurality of pastors is met with mostly antagonism, indifference, or distrust, the flock does them no favors to pastor as God would have them — “exercising oversight, not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you” (1 Peter 5:2–3).<br />
<br />
So esteem your pastors highly in the Lord, imitate them, pray for them, stand by them in trials, join them in the work of ministry, and be eager to submit to their direction. In so doing, you will sit them down upon the Rock, hold up their arms, and help them to serve your soul more of Jesus. And by God’s grace, you will defeat the Amaleks of the world, the flesh, and the devil. Persist in this, that we may all have a good report to give to the Master on that day — pastors for how they shepherded, and sheep for how they followed.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/How_to_Care_for_a_PastorHow to Care for a Pastor2022-11-27T19:19:16Z<p>Kathyyee: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Five Ways to Uplift Your Shepherds'''<br />
<br />
Like a viper from the bushes, the Amalek attacked Israel. The shores had not yet washed clean of Pharoah’s army, nor had the people reached Sinai, before new enemies emerged: “Then Amalek came and fought with Israel at Rephidim” (Exodus 17:8).<br />
<br />
Desperate circumstance made soldiers of slaves. Moses, their commander and chief, instructed Joshua to gather men and march into battle. Moses would take a different route, fight on a different front: “Tomorrow I will stand on the top of the hill with the staff of God in my hand” (Exodus 17:9).<br />
<br />
So it happened. “Whenever Moses held up his hand, Israel prevailed, and whenever he lowered his hand, Amalek prevailed” (Exodus 17:10–11). A strange way to win or lose a battle. The lives of men suspended in midair with Moses’s staff. Held high, Israel aggressed. As hands drooped, Amalek played havoc. The prophet learned that gravity is an unrelenting foe: “Moses’ hands grew weary” (Exodus 17:12).<br />
<br />
Pastors too know such weariness — this burn of holding their arms up in intercession for God’s people. Almost tireless, see them upon the hill, day in day out, month in month out, year in year out. Seasons change, but there they are upon the peak. Sometimes it all seems useless. Sometimes it is thankless. The sunbeams of complaints beat upon the brow; the sorrows of their people wear on the spirit. Gravity, in ministry, is an unrelenting foe.<br />
<br />
Years pass. Arms droop. Just a few years, and some pastors have dropped them altogether. Blessed then, is the pastor who has Aaron and Hur with him:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Moses’s hands grew weary, so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it, while Aaron and Hur held up his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side. So his hands were steady until the going down of the sun. And Joshua overwhelmed Amalek and his people with the sword. (Exodus 17:12–13)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The proverb is here embodied: “Though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him — a threefold cord is not quickly broken” (Ecclesiastes 4:12). Blessed is the man who stands with brother elders at his side, but abundantly blessed is he who has a whole church holding up his arms.<br />
<br />
'''How to Love Your Pastor'''<br />
<br />
Before becoming one, I rarely asked, How do I best care for my pastors? How can I be a blessing to them, refresh them, uphold their arms? My pastors always seemed to have it together. I needed their help, it seemed, on a one-way street. But Scripture does not show it to be so. Drawing from John Owen’s short but excellent little book Duties of Christian Fellowship, consider a few ways a flock cares well for their shepherd.<br />
<br />
'''1. Esteem Them'''<br />
<br />
Some families find it easy to spend the car ride home from church doing little more than criticizing the pastor and his sermon. I stand convicted overhearing Charles Spurgeon,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Filled with the same spirit of contrariety, the men of this world still depreciate the ministers whom God sends them and profess that they would gladly listen if different preachers could be found. Nothing can please them, their cavils are dealt out with heedless universality. Cephas is too blunt, Apollos is too flowery, Paul is too argumentative, Timothy is too young, James is too severe, John is too gentle. (''Eclectic Preachers'')</blockquote><br />
<br />
How important, then, to have the primary description of a flock’s relationship to its pastors be one of ''esteem''.<br />
<br />
Overhear the apostle enjoin what many a humble pastor might blush to mention: “We ask you, brothers, to respect those who labor among you and are over you in the Lord and admonish you, and to esteem them very highly in love because of their work” (1 Thessalonians 5:12–13). ''Esteem them very highly in love because of their work''. Does this describe you? Or for that to happen, does the pastor need to have generational giftings and fit your preferences?<br />
<br />
'''2. Imitate Them'''<br />
<br />
Consider one way the author of Hebrews calls us to esteem them: “Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith” (Hebrews 13:7). Imitation is the sincerest form of esteem.<br />
<br />
Are your pastors especially humble, careful with their words, fearless in adversity, tender to the wayward, deeply knowledgeable of the Scriptures, happy in Christ, constant in prayer, God-fearing fathers, husbands, leaders, evangelists? What in their lives of faith do you imitate in yours? Consider the outcome of their lives and imitate them. And ''tell them'' you are doing so.<br />
<br />
John Owen calls Christians to cover their pastor’s weaknesses in love, recognizing that their teachers’ lives are “a means of grace from God provided as a relief for them when under temptation, and an encouragement to holiness, zeal, meekness and self-denial” (19). Are you neglecting this example for your faith — the pastors’ lives — whose feet, though made of clay, support a life above reproach? In a hero-less world, are your pastors a model you look to regularly?<br />
<br />
'''3. Pray for Them'''<br />
<br />
How much do you pray for your pastors?<br />
<br />
If some spent as much time praying for their pastors as they did spotlighting their weaknesses, they might not have them anymore. The question stands, “Is it realized that any perceived weakness in the pastor’s ministry may be due to the prayerlessness of the church?” (''Duties'', 22).<br />
<br />
Heaven will reveal how much a pastor was upheld by the prayers of his people (or not). You may be down on the field of battle with Joshua, but if you really care to uphold his arms upon the hill — pray for him. May your prayers be stones for him to sit upon.<br />
<br />
It has been said of Spurgeon that when asked about his great success in ministry, he remarked simply, “My people pray for me.” And on another occasion, he brought visitors down to the “boiler room” of the church, the place that gave it power and heat. He opened the door, and the visitors beheld hundreds praying before the service started.<br />
<br />
Do you pray ''for'' your pastors to be kept by Jesus, to be upheld and satisfied in Jesus? And do you pray ''with'' your pastors, that souls be saved to Jesus and the church matured for Jesus?<br />
<br />
'''4. Stand by Them'''<br />
<br />
May it never be the anxious thought of your pastors’ minds: ''Where are they?''<br />
<br />
Paul was left to ask this question, sending the sad report to Timothy: “At my first defense no one came to stand by me, but all deserted me. May it not be charged against them!” (2 Timothy 4:16).<br />
<br />
Do you leave your pastors to charge in alone? Owen remarks, “When a captain, advancing against danger, looks back expecting to see his soldiers with him but finds that they have run away, he is greatly betrayed and forced into an impossible position by his enemies” (28).<br />
<br />
How different is it to have or be a church full of Onesiphoruses? Paul reports,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>May the Lord grant mercy to the household of Onesiphorus, for he often refreshed me and was not ashamed of my chains, but when he arrived in Rome he searched for me earnestly and found me — may the Lord grant him to find mercy from the Lord on that day! — and you well know all the service he rendered at Ephesus. (2 Timothy 1:16–18)</blockquote><br />
<br />
We can hear the gratitude spattering from Paul’s pen. Pastors are men who grow weary like the rest of us — even young pastors run and grow tired. They receive more opposition, criticism, and slander than the normal churchman. Beyond this, shepherds accept invitations into all the bitter things of the church — adulteries, betrayals, deaths, and divisions. Pastoring is a good and hard work. They stand and contest with demonic bears and lions for their sheep’s sake — will the church not stand with them?<br />
<br />
How might you support your pastors, help them, encourage them, defend them? Resist the world’s consumer mindset and take responsibility to help nurture the flock — disciple, serve, volunteer. Remember, they equip you for the work of ministry and will be mightily encouraged to see you doing it (Ephesians 4:13).<br />
<br />
'''5. Help Them Love You'''<br />
<br />
A final way to care for your pastors is to help them care for your soul.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with groaning, for that would be of no advantage to you. (Hebrews 13:17)</blockquote><br />
<br />
A wise flock wants its shepherds to lead ''with'' joy. As they seek to shepherd you, follow their lead to Jesus, be ready to be persuaded by their teaching, submit to their guidance as far as Scripture allows. Do so readily, eagerly, thankfully that they might cheerfully discharge their eternal duty of caring for your immortal soul (for which they will give an account).<br />
<br />
Following your shepherds’ lead is to your own advantage. Happy pastors pastor better. If a plurality of pastors is met with mostly antagonism, indifference, or distrust, the flock does them no favors to pastor as God would have them — “exercising oversight, not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you” (1 Peter 5:2–3).<br />
<br />
So esteem your pastors highly in the Lord, imitate them, pray for them, stand by them in trials, join them in the work of ministry, and be eager to submit to their direction. In so doing, you will sit them down upon the Rock, hold up their arms, and help them to serve your soul more of Jesus. And by God’s grace, you will defeat the Amaleks of the world, the flesh, and the devil. Persist in this, that we may all have a good report to give to the Master on that day — pastors for how they shepherded, and sheep for how they followed.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/How_to_Care_for_a_PastorHow to Care for a Pastor2022-11-27T19:18:13Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''Five Ways to Uplift Your Shepherds''' Like a viper from the bushes, the Amalek attacked Israel. The shores had not yet washed clean of Pharoah’s army, nor had the p...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Five Ways to Uplift Your Shepherds'''<br />
<br />
Like a viper from the bushes, the Amalek attacked Israel. The shores had not yet washed clean of Pharoah’s army, nor had the people reached Sinai, before new enemies emerged: “Then Amalek came and fought with Israel at Rephidim” (Exodus 17:8).<br />
<br />
Desperate circumstance made soldiers of slaves. Moses, their commander and chief, instructed Joshua to gather men and march into battle. Moses would take a different route, fight on a different front: “Tomorrow I will stand on the top of the hill with the staff of God in my hand” (Exodus 17:9).<br />
<br />
So it happened. “Whenever Moses held up his hand, Israel prevailed, and whenever he lowered his hand, Amalek prevailed” (Exodus 17:10–11). A strange way to win or lose a battle. The lives of men suspended in midair with Moses’s staff. Held high, Israel aggressed. As hands drooped, Amalek played havoc. The prophet learned that gravity is an unrelenting foe: “Moses’ hands grew weary” (Exodus 17:12).<br />
<br />
Pastors too know such weariness — this burn of holding their arms up in intercession for God’s people. Almost tireless, see them upon the hill, day in day out, month in month out, year in year out. Seasons change, but there they are upon the peak. Sometimes it all seems useless. Sometimes it is thankless. The sunbeams of complaints beat upon the brow; the sorrows of their people wear on the spirit. Gravity, in ministry, is an unrelenting foe.<br />
<br />
Years pass. Arms droop. Just a few years, and some pastors have dropped them altogether. Blessed then, is the pastor who has Aaron and Hur with him:<br />
<br />
<blockquotes>Moses’s hands grew weary, so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it, while Aaron and Hur held up his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side. So his hands were steady until the going down of the sun. And Joshua overwhelmed Amalek and his people with the sword. (Exodus 17:12–13)</blockquotes><br />
<br />
The proverb is here embodied: “Though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him — a threefold cord is not quickly broken” (Ecclesiastes 4:12). Blessed is the man who stands with brother elders at his side, but abundantly blessed is he who has a whole church holding up his arms.<br />
<br />
'''How to Love Your Pastor'''<br />
<br />
Before becoming one, I rarely asked, How do I best care for my pastors? How can I be a blessing to them, refresh them, uphold their arms? My pastors always seemed to have it together. I needed their help, it seemed, on a one-way street. But Scripture does not show it to be so. Drawing from John Owen’s short but excellent little book Duties of Christian Fellowship, consider a few ways a flock cares well for their shepherd.<br />
<br />
'''1. Esteem Them'''<br />
<br />
Some families find it easy to spend the car ride home from church doing little more than criticizing the pastor and his sermon. I stand convicted overhearing Charles Spurgeon,<br />
<br />
<blockquotes>Filled with the same spirit of contrariety, the men of this world still depreciate the ministers whom God sends them and profess that they would gladly listen if different preachers could be found. Nothing can please them, their cavils are dealt out with heedless universality. Cephas is too blunt, Apollos is too flowery, Paul is too argumentative, Timothy is too young, James is too severe, John is too gentle. (''Eclectic Preachers'')</blockquotes><br />
<br />
How important, then, to have the primary description of a flock’s relationship to its pastors be one of ''esteem''.<br />
<br />
Overhear the apostle enjoin what many a humble pastor might blush to mention: “We ask you, brothers, to respect those who labor among you and are over you in the Lord and admonish you, and to esteem them very highly in love because of their work” (1 Thessalonians 5:12–13). ''Esteem them very highly in love because of their work''. Does this describe you? Or for that to happen, does the pastor need to have generational giftings and fit your preferences?<br />
<br />
'''2. Imitate Them'''<br />
<br />
Consider one way the author of Hebrews calls us to esteem them: “Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith” (Hebrews 13:7). Imitation is the sincerest form of esteem.<br />
<br />
Are your pastors especially humble, careful with their words, fearless in adversity, tender to the wayward, deeply knowledgeable of the Scriptures, happy in Christ, constant in prayer, God-fearing fathers, husbands, leaders, evangelists? What in their lives of faith do you imitate in yours? Consider the outcome of their lives and imitate them. And ''tell them'' you are doing so.<br />
<br />
John Owen calls Christians to cover their pastor’s weaknesses in love, recognizing that their teachers’ lives are “a means of grace from God provided as a relief for them when under temptation, and an encouragement to holiness, zeal, meekness and self-denial” (19). Are you neglecting this example for your faith — the pastors’ lives — whose feet, though made of clay, support a life above reproach? In a hero-less world, are your pastors a model you look to regularly?<br />
<br />
'''3. Pray for Them'''<br />
<br />
How much do you pray for your pastors?<br />
<br />
If some spent as much time praying for their pastors as they did spotlighting their weaknesses, they might not have them anymore. The question stands, “Is it realized that any perceived weakness in the pastor’s ministry may be due to the prayerlessness of the church?” (''Duties'', 22).<br />
<br />
Heaven will reveal how much a pastor was upheld by the prayers of his people (or not). You may be down on the field of battle with Joshua, but if you really care to uphold his arms upon the hill — pray for him. May your prayers be stones for him to sit upon.<br />
<br />
It has been said of Spurgeon that when asked about his great success in ministry, he remarked simply, “My people pray for me.” And on another occasion, he brought visitors down to the “boiler room” of the church, the place that gave it power and heat. He opened the door, and the visitors beheld hundreds praying before the service started.<br />
<br />
Do you pray ''for'' your pastors to be kept by Jesus, to be upheld and satisfied in Jesus? And do you pray ''with'' your pastors, that souls be saved to Jesus and the church matured for Jesus?<br />
<br />
'''4. Stand by Them'''<br />
<br />
May it never be the anxious thought of your pastors’ minds: ''Where are they?''<br />
<br />
Paul was left to ask this question, sending the sad report to Timothy: “At my first defense no one came to stand by me, but all deserted me. May it not be charged against them!” (2 Timothy 4:16).<br />
<br />
Do you leave your pastors to charge in alone? Owen remarks, “When a captain, advancing against danger, looks back expecting to see his soldiers with him but finds that they have run away, he is greatly betrayed and forced into an impossible position by his enemies” (28).<br />
<br />
How different is it to have or be a church full of Onesiphoruses? Paul reports,<br />
<br />
<blockquotes>May the Lord grant mercy to the household of Onesiphorus, for he often refreshed me and was not ashamed of my chains, but when he arrived in Rome he searched for me earnestly and found me — may the Lord grant him to find mercy from the Lord on that day! — and you well know all the service he rendered at Ephesus. (2 Timothy 1:16–18)</blockquotes><br />
<br />
We can hear the gratitude spattering from Paul’s pen. Pastors are men who grow weary like the rest of us — even young pastors run and grow tired. They receive more opposition, criticism, and slander than the normal churchman. Beyond this, shepherds accept invitations into all the bitter things of the church — adulteries, betrayals, deaths, and divisions. Pastoring is a good and hard work. They stand and contest with demonic bears and lions for their sheep’s sake — will the church not stand with them?<br />
<br />
How might you support your pastors, help them, encourage them, defend them? Resist the world’s consumer mindset and take responsibility to help nurture the flock — disciple, serve, volunteer. Remember, they equip you for the work of ministry and will be mightily encouraged to see you doing it (Ephesians 4:13).<br />
<br />
'''5. Help Them Love You'''<br />
<br />
A final way to care for your pastors is to help them care for your soul.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with groaning, for that would be of no advantage to you. (Hebrews 13:17)</blockquote><br />
<br />
A wise flock wants its shepherds to lead ''with'' joy. As they seek to shepherd you, follow their lead to Jesus, be ready to be persuaded by their teaching, submit to their guidance as far as Scripture allows. Do so readily, eagerly, thankfully that they might cheerfully discharge their eternal duty of caring for your immortal soul (for which they will give an account).<br />
<br />
Following your shepherds’ lead is to your own advantage. Happy pastors pastor better. If a plurality of pastors is met with mostly antagonism, indifference, or distrust, the flock does them no favors to pastor as God would have them — “exercising oversight, not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you” (1 Peter 5:2–3).<br />
<br />
So esteem your pastors highly in the Lord, imitate them, pray for them, stand by them in trials, join them in the work of ministry, and be eager to submit to their direction. In so doing, you will sit them down upon the Rock, hold up their arms, and help them to serve your soul more of Jesus. And by God’s grace, you will defeat the Amaleks of the world, the flesh, and the devil. Persist in this, that we may all have a good report to give to the Master on that day — pastors for how they shepherded, and sheep for how they followed.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/How_to_Fail_a_WifeHow to Fail a Wife2022-11-21T14:55:07Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "How to Fail a Wife" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Learning Marriage from a Bad Husband'''<br />
<br />
We might dismiss the first marriage as too extraordinary to be practically helpful. How could any ordinary sinful husband or wife today relate to those truly innocent newlyweds, with their perfect home in a flawless paradise? They enjoyed a fullness of peace and security and intimacy that’s now alien to the earth we’ve known.<br />
<br />
Even for Adam and Eve, however, the honeymoon phase didn’t last long (at least when measured in verses). And we learn as much (or more) from their later failures as we do from their early obedience. As a young, often-failing husband, I find my imagination captured by the only sinless husband in history laying all he had on the altar of sin and compromise. His failures are foils of my callings, strange and dark inroads into what my marriage was meant to be — into what I was meant to be. His failures press our vague and comfortable ideas of what it means to be a husband into higher, less comfortable definition.<br />
<br />
The more years I’m married, the more easily I can put myself in Adam’s fig leaves. His sins are unique for being the first, but they’re not all that different in kind or consequence. As it turns out, it’s a lot easier to be a bad husband than a faithful one, even in paradise. So what might we learn from that first bad husband? We’ll study their marital collapse in three stages.<br />
<br />
'''When Temptation Came'''<br />
<br />
The first verses in the single-most tragic chapter in Scripture don’t even mention the man. As a result, we might be led to think Adam was simply a supporting actor (perhaps even a victim) in this awful story. The reality, however, is that his seeming absence was his first great failure.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Now the serpent was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God actually say, ‘You shall not eat of any tree in the garden’?” (Genesis 3:1)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Satan knew how to attack a marriage. He knew that the surest way to undo the man, the marriage, and their brilliant mural of God and his people was to target the wife and seek to reverse the order of their callings. He undermines their matrimony by encouraging her to be the assertive head and him the yielding helper. So he goes after the bride. And where ''was'' Adam?<br />
<br />
As we continue reading, we realize the husband was not, in fact, absent, but stood by quietly. In the same moment of temptation, he commits two of the most common sins of men: he fails to do what needs to be done (passivity), and he does what ought never be done (compromise). Notice how he finally enters the scene:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband ''who was with her'', and he ate. (Genesis 3:6)</blockquote><br />
<br />
'''PASSIVITY'''<br />
<br />
Adam was not off gathering food or herding lions while Satan snuck in to deceive Eve; he was there with her. His wife didn’t grab some fruit and run off to find him; she simply turned and held out her hand. He didn’t need her to relay all that was said; he likely heard every word. And yet he let her listen, and take, and eat. His home fell by a poisonous passivity. While it ''was'' Eve who listened (1 Timothy 2:14), who took what was not hers, and who prepared the forbidden meal, Adam stood by and let it all happen.<br />
<br />
Just a few verses earlier, in Genesis 2:15, “The Lord God took the man” — the man, not the couple — “and put him in the garden of Eden to work it ''and keep it''” — to guard it, preserve it, protect it. Jason DeRouchie unpacks this keeping: “[The husband] is to supply spiritual and physical food, and to ward off any spiritual or physical obstacles to the glory-filled global mission to which God called his family.” But when temptation came to his home, Adam failed to ''keep'' what God had entrusted to him. Instead of intervening, he tolerated and made room for him.<br />
<br />
What kept Adam from stepping in and speaking up? We’re not told. I assume, however, that his temptations weren’t so different from the ones husbands like me face today. Perhaps it was pride. That’s certainly the weakness Satan aimed for: “You will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Genesis 3:5). Perhaps it was fear, wondering what Eve might feel or say if he refused the fruit. Perhaps it was sloth, simply lacking the strength and resolve to resist and fight back. Perhaps it was a lust for power, longing to taste that one forbidden pleasure. Passivity grows in any number of soils, but as we see again and again, it always bears the same bitter fruit.<br />
<br />
'''COMPROMISE'''<br />
<br />
Adam wasn’t entirely passive, though. The three most haunting words, at least for husbands, might be these: “. . . she also gave some to her husband who was with her, ''and he ate''.”<br />
<br />
The husband not only watched as his wife made war on God, but he grabbed a sword of his own. He knew full well what God had said. Again, just a few verses earlier, we read, “The Lord God commanded the man” — the man, not the couple — “saying, ‘You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die’” (Genesis 2:16–17). And yet he ate. The deceitfulness of sin made him deaf to the voice that had brought him from dust and breathed life into his lungs. Is anything more destructive and painful to a home than when a husband, who manifestly knows better, dives headlong into sin?<br />
<br />
And how many homes have crumbled because husbands failed to see temptation for what it is and call sin what it is? The surest way for a man to protect the home around him is for him to guard the heart within him. As husbands, we follow in the footsteps of the Bridegroom, who met Satan and his temptations in the wilderness after forty lonely, hungry days and yet would not bite. Not when the devil tried the same old line, “Did God actually say . . . ?” Not when he was hungry. Not for the glory of a hundred nations.<br />
<br />
Our homes and churches need husbands and fathers who refuse to abandon God’s word, even if their wives, children, and friends come to lead them away.<br />
<br />
'''After Sin Happened'''<br />
<br />
After Adam and Eve ate from the tree and fell into sin and shame, the Lord came calling, and when he did, he came first, as we should expect, for the husband.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. But the Lord God called to the man and said to him, “Where are you?” (Genesis 3:8–9)</blockquote><br />
<br />
When God asks him what happened, Adam shifts the blame everywhere but himself, even casting accusations back at God. “The woman ''whom you gave to be with me'', she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate” (Genesis 3:12). She gave me the fruit, and you gave her to me, so who could blame me?<br />
<br />
I imagine any man who’s been married for long can relate to the seduction of self-pity — wanting to preserve our name and honor while the house is on fire. How deceitful is sin if we can be convinced to blame God for sin? And yet Adam does. And we do, in our own ways. We feel bad for ourselves about this or that and begin to make excuses for our failures.<br />
<br />
The point was not that Eve should take ''no'' blame (to her credit, she owns her part, verse 13); the point was that Adam should take the first and greater blame. He, not she, was called to keep. Faithful husbands step up and take responsibility in crisis and defeat. They don’t go looking for excuses or scapegoats. They know that judgment always begins with the head of the home. So they first remove whatever they can find in their own eyes (Matthew 7:5), and then they do all in their power to correct, restore, and protect the family. When sin happens in the home, the husband takes responsibility — not meaning he accepts all blame, but that he accepts his part of the blame and then, more importantly, owns how the family responds to it.<br />
<br />
If Satan can convince a husband that his marital problems are all rooted in ''her'' sins, he’s removed the walls of their home and opened them to all manner of spiritual attack. Yes, the woman, not the man, was deceived, but Scripture says sin entered the world through the man, not the woman (Romans 5:12).<br />
<br />
'''Before Temptation Came?'''<br />
<br />
We can’t say much about the space and time between the last verse of Genesis 2 — “And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed” — and the first verses of Genesis 3 — “Now the serpent . . . said to the woman” (Genesis 3:1–2). Had Adam already failed by letting Satan in at all? We don’t know how the devil invaded the garden or how he got an audience with its queen. We do know that God had charged the king to keep — to forbid and withstand all threats.<br />
<br />
However Satan slipped in, we know that keeping a marriage and home in a world like ours, corrupted by sin and brimming with temptation, begins well before temptation comes. We know that many temptations can be avoided altogether because Jesus teaches us to pray, “Lead us not into temptation” (Matthew 6:13) — not just lead us ''through'' temptation, but keep us ''from'' it altogether. ''Don’t let his awful lies touch our ears''. Husbands and fathers are one great means to this kind of protection. We make sacrifices to stand on the spiritual walls of our homes, monitoring the unique threats and needs that emerge in our marriages and parenting, and then taking decisive, costly action when they do.<br />
<br />
How many husbands today, like Adam, have lowered our guards and let temptation invade and live freely in our homes? How often have we let Satan’s lies go unchallenged — or worse, undetected? Being a husband means standing guard before serpents come.<br />
<br />
'''Proactive Protection'''<br />
<br />
This keeping, however, means not only keeping evil ''out'' of the home, but kindling and cultivating good ''within'' it. Spiritual protection always involves teaching and encouragement.<br />
<br />
Guardians of the home don’t just stand on the wall, scanning the horizon for shadows; they also fill the walls with light. They know that a family’s best defense is a deepening and expanding joy in God, that some of the best keeping happens through consistently reading, sharing, praying, marveling, serving, and singing. After all, Adam and Eve didn’t eat because they got hungry, but because their eyes had grown dim toward God. John Piper says,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Swallowing forbidden fruit is bad. But it is not the essence of what happened here. The moral outrage — the horror — of what happened here was that Adam and Eve desired this fruit more than they desired God. They delighted more in what the fruit could be for them than in what God could be for them. Eating was not the essence of the evil because, before they ate, they had already lost their taste for God. He was no longer their all-supplying life and joy. They preferred something else. That is the ultimate essence of evil. (“The Ultimate Essence of Evil”)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Part of a husband’s charge to guard the home, then, is to do what he can to foster the kind of delight in God that gladly rejects whatever Satan offers. ''Joy'' guards our wives and children from temptation and delivers them from evil.<br />
<br />
Husbands, we have a high and weighty calling — and with it, a higher and stronger God to help in time of need. Like Adam, we’ll inevitably fail as husbands. Unlike Adam, we now know where to find forgiveness for our failures and the daily strength to love our wives and families faithfully. So when temptation comes, we step in and defy Satan head on, taking as much of his fire as we can. After sin happens, we take responsibility before God and lead the family in sorrow, confession, and repentance. And before temptation comes, we keep a big, satisfying vision of God before our families — through family worship, through informal conversations, and perhaps most of all, through our own contagious joy in him.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/How_to_Fail_a_WifeHow to Fail a Wife2022-11-21T14:54:53Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''Learning Marriage from a Bad Husband''' We might dismiss the first marriage as too extraordinary to be practically helpful. How could any ordinary sinful husband or w...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Learning Marriage from a Bad Husband'''<br />
<br />
We might dismiss the first marriage as too extraordinary to be practically helpful. How could any ordinary sinful husband or wife today relate to those truly innocent newlyweds, with their perfect home in a flawless paradise? They enjoyed a fullness of peace and security and intimacy that’s now alien to the earth we’ve known.<br />
<br />
Even for Adam and Eve, however, the honeymoon phase didn’t last long (at least when measured in verses). And we learn as much (or more) from their later failures as we do from their early obedience. As a young, often-failing husband, I find my imagination captured by the only sinless husband in history laying all he had on the altar of sin and compromise. His failures are foils of my callings, strange and dark inroads into what my marriage was meant to be — into what I was meant to be. His failures press our vague and comfortable ideas of what it means to be a husband into higher, less comfortable definition.<br />
<br />
The more years I’m married, the more easily I can put myself in Adam’s fig leaves. His sins are unique for being the first, but they’re not all that different in kind or consequence. As it turns out, it’s a lot easier to be a bad husband than a faithful one, even in paradise. So what might we learn from that first bad husband? We’ll study their marital collapse in three stages.<br />
<br />
'''When Temptation Came'''<br />
<br />
The first verses in the single-most tragic chapter in Scripture don’t even mention the man. As a result, we might be led to think Adam was simply a supporting actor (perhaps even a victim) in this awful story. The reality, however, is that his seeming absence was his first great failure.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Now the serpent was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God actually say, ‘You shall not eat of any tree in the garden’?” (Genesis 3:1)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Satan knew how to attack a marriage. He knew that the surest way to undo the man, the marriage, and their brilliant mural of God and his people was to target the wife and seek to reverse the order of their callings. He undermines their matrimony by encouraging her to be the assertive head and him the yielding helper. So he goes after the bride. And where ''was'' Adam?<br />
<br />
As we continue reading, we realize the husband was not, in fact, absent, but stood by quietly. In the same moment of temptation, he commits two of the most common sins of men: he fails to do what needs to be done (passivity), and he does what ought never be done (compromise). Notice how he finally enters the scene:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband ''who was with her'', and he ate. (Genesis 3:6)</blockquote><br />
<br />
'''PASSIVITY'''<br />
<br />
Adam was not off gathering food or herding lions while Satan snuck in to deceive Eve; he was there with her. His wife didn’t grab some fruit and run off to find him; she simply turned and held out her hand. He didn’t need her to relay all that was said; he likely heard every word. And yet he let her listen, and take, and eat. His home fell by a poisonous passivity. While it ''was'' Eve who listened (1 Timothy 2:14), who took what was not hers, and who prepared the forbidden meal, Adam stood by and let it all happen.<br />
<br />
Just a few verses earlier, in Genesis 2:15, “The Lord God took the man” — the man, not the couple — “and put him in the garden of Eden to work it ''and keep it''” — to guard it, preserve it, protect it. Jason DeRouchie unpacks this keeping: “[The husband] is to supply spiritual and physical food, and to ward off any spiritual or physical obstacles to the glory-filled global mission to which God called his family.” But when temptation came to his home, Adam failed to ''keep'' what God had entrusted to him. Instead of intervening, he tolerated and made room for him.<br />
<br />
What kept Adam from stepping in and speaking up? We’re not told. I assume, however, that his temptations weren’t so different from the ones husbands like me face today. Perhaps it was pride. That’s certainly the weakness Satan aimed for: “You will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Genesis 3:5). Perhaps it was fear, wondering what Eve might feel or say if he refused the fruit. Perhaps it was sloth, simply lacking the strength and resolve to resist and fight back. Perhaps it was a lust for power, longing to taste that one forbidden pleasure. Passivity grows in any number of soils, but as we see again and again, it always bears the same bitter fruit.<br />
<br />
'''COMPROMISE'''<br />
<br />
Adam wasn’t entirely passive, though. The three most haunting words, at least for husbands, might be these: “. . . she also gave some to her husband who was with her, ''and he ate''.”<br />
<br />
The husband not only watched as his wife made war on God, but he grabbed a sword of his own. He knew full well what God had said. Again, just a few verses earlier, we read, “The Lord God commanded the man” — the man, not the couple — “saying, ‘You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die’” (Genesis 2:16–17). And yet he ate. The deceitfulness of sin made him deaf to the voice that had brought him from dust and breathed life into his lungs. Is anything more destructive and painful to a home than when a husband, who manifestly knows better, dives headlong into sin?<br />
<br />
And how many homes have crumbled because husbands failed to see temptation for what it is and call sin what it is? The surest way for a man to protect the home around him is for him to guard the heart within him. As husbands, we follow in the footsteps of the Bridegroom, who met Satan and his temptations in the wilderness after forty lonely, hungry days and yet would not bite. Not when the devil tried the same old line, “Did God actually say . . . ?” Not when he was hungry. Not for the glory of a hundred nations.<br />
<br />
Our homes and churches need husbands and fathers who refuse to abandon God’s word, even if their wives, children, and friends come to lead them away.<br />
<br />
'''After Sin Happened'''<br />
<br />
After Adam and Eve ate from the tree and fell into sin and shame, the Lord came calling, and when he did, he came first, as we should expect, for the husband.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. But the Lord God called to the man and said to him, “Where are you?” (Genesis 3:8–9)</blockquote><br />
<br />
When God asks him what happened, Adam shifts the blame everywhere but himself, even casting accusations back at God. “The woman ''whom you gave to be with me'', she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate” (Genesis 3:12). She gave me the fruit, and you gave her to me, so who could blame me?<br />
<br />
I imagine any man who’s been married for long can relate to the seduction of self-pity — wanting to preserve our name and honor while the house is on fire. How deceitful is sin if we can be convinced to blame God for sin? And yet Adam does. And we do, in our own ways. We feel bad for ourselves about this or that and begin to make excuses for our failures.<br />
<br />
The point was not that Eve should take ''no'' blame (to her credit, she owns her part, verse 13); the point was that Adam should take the first and greater blame. He, not she, was called to keep. Faithful husbands step up and take responsibility in crisis and defeat. They don’t go looking for excuses or scapegoats. They know that judgment always begins with the head of the home. So they first remove whatever they can find in their own eyes (Matthew 7:5), and then they do all in their power to correct, restore, and protect the family. When sin happens in the home, the husband takes responsibility — not meaning he accepts all blame, but that he accepts his part of the blame and then, more importantly, owns how the family responds to it.<br />
<br />
If Satan can convince a husband that his marital problems are all rooted in ''her'' sins, he’s removed the walls of their home and opened them to all manner of spiritual attack. Yes, the woman, not the man, was deceived, but Scripture says sin entered the world through the man, not the woman (Romans 5:12).<br />
<br />
'''Before Temptation Came?'''<br />
<br />
We can’t say much about the space and time between the last verse of Genesis 2 — “And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed” — and the first verses of Genesis 3 — “Now the serpent . . . said to the woman” (Genesis 3:1–2). Had Adam already failed by letting Satan in at all? We don’t know how the devil invaded the garden or how he got an audience with its queen. We do know that God had charged the king to keep — to forbid and withstand all threats.<br />
<br />
However Satan slipped in, we know that keeping a marriage and home in a world like ours, corrupted by sin and brimming with temptation, begins well before temptation comes. We know that many temptations can be avoided altogether because Jesus teaches us to pray, “Lead us not into temptation” (Matthew 6:13) — not just lead us ''through'' temptation, but keep us ''from'' it altogether. ''Don’t let his awful lies touch our ears''. Husbands and fathers are one great means to this kind of protection. We make sacrifices to stand on the spiritual walls of our homes, monitoring the unique threats and needs that emerge in our marriages and parenting, and then taking decisive, costly action when they do.<br />
<br />
How many husbands today, like Adam, have lowered our guards and let temptation invade and live freely in our homes? How often have we let Satan’s lies go unchallenged — or worse, undetected? Being a husband means standing guard before serpents come.<br />
<br />
'''Proactive Protection'''<br />
<br />
This keeping, however, means not only keeping evil ''out'' of the home, but kindling and cultivating good ''within'' it. Spiritual protection always involves teaching and encouragement.<br />
<br />
Guardians of the home don’t just stand on the wall, scanning the horizon for shadows; they also fill the walls with light. They know that a family’s best defense is a deepening and expanding joy in God, that some of the best keeping happens through consistently reading, sharing, praying, marveling, serving, and singing. After all, Adam and Eve didn’t eat because they got hungry, but because their eyes had grown dim toward God. John Piper says,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Swallowing forbidden fruit is bad. But it is not the essence of what happened here. The moral outrage — the horror — of what happened here was that Adam and Eve desired this fruit more than they desired God. They delighted more in what the fruit could be for them than in what God could be for them. Eating was not the essence of the evil because, before they ate, they had already lost their taste for God. He was no longer their all-supplying life and joy. They preferred something else. That is the ultimate essence of evil. (“The Ultimate Essence of Evil”)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Part of a husband’s charge to guard the home, then, is to do what he can to foster the kind of delight in God that gladly rejects whatever Satan offers. ''Joy'' guards our wives and children from temptation and delivers them from evil.<br />
<br />
Husbands, we have a high and weighty calling — and with it, a higher and stronger God to help in time of need. Like Adam, we’ll inevitably fail as husbands. Unlike Adam, we now know where to find forgiveness for our failures and the daily strength to love our wives and families faithfully. So when temptation comes, we step in and defy Satan head on, taking as much of his fire as we can. After sin happens, we take responsibility before God and lead the family in sorrow, confession, and repentance. And before temptation comes, we keep a big, satisfying vision of God before our families — through family worship, through informal conversations, and perhaps most of all, through our own contagious joy in him.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/How_Do_I_Pray_from_the_Misery_of_My_Sin%3FHow Do I Pray from the Misery of My Sin?2022-11-21T14:35:26Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "How Do I Pray from the Misery of My Sin?" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Audio Transcript'''<br />
<br />
''Welcome back to the podcast. We have been doing this podcast for almost a decade now. And over those ten years there have been some moving pastoral moments. I remember one from a long time ago. I looked it up. It was back in APJ 131. It’s an oldie. There, Pastor John was talking about important Bible verses to memorize, ones that he has found particularly useful in serving others. One such text was Psalm 130:3: “If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?” There Pastor John testified, “How many times have I knelt down, put my arm on somebody who has just been broken over some sin that they have committed, and been able to pray over them this text: ‘Lord, if you would mark iniquities, who could stand?’” That’s a moving picture of a word spoken pastorally.''<br />
<br />
''That image, and that text, comes to mind when I think of today’s sermon clip because there’s a question about how we approach God in the midst of our brokenness, particularly in this brokenness we experience over our own sins. This very question gets answered robustly in Nehemiah 9–10. God’s people are in distress. It’s distress caused by their own sins. They know it. And they know they deserve the distress itself. So how do we approach God now? Here’s Pastor John to explain, looking at Nehemiah 9.''<br />
<br />
Starting with Nehemiah 9:6–37, the Levites are praying. This chapter is a prayer. They’re praying to the end of verse 37, and they’re crying out “to you, O God.” The word ''you'' in reference to God occurs thirty times in these verses. What did they do? What did they say? How did they deal with God in great distress? That’s what we want to know. How did they do that?<br />
<br />
'''Under God-Given Distress'''<br />
<br />
Before we ask further, let’s get more specific about the distress, because this will clarify your situation. There are some of you right now who are perhaps arguing with yourself, if not with me, “What you’re about to say is not going to apply to me because you don’t understand how I got where I am.” Let’s see whether that’s true or not.<br />
<br />
Back to verse 37. They’re not just in distress. They are in a distress that they deserve to be in because of their sin. And they are in a distress that God himself put them in. Let’s look at verse 37 to see that. “[The land’s] rich yield” — which we’re supposed to inherit as a promise — “goes to the kings whom you have set over us . . .” Slave masters. You put them over us, God, “. . . because of our sins” (Nehemiah 9:37). In other words, the great distress that we are in, we deserve to be in. And not only do we deserve to be in it, but it’s judgment sent from you.<br />
<br />
So now we get clarity on this. Some of you might be tempted to say, “The rest of you in here, you can call upon God in your distress, but not me because I sinned my way into the mess I’m in. God put me here as a discipline or a punishment. So the rest of you can go on about your merry way, following this preacher and learning how to call upon God in your distress because it just came upon you. It didn’t just come upon me. I brought it on me.” That’s their situation.<br />
<br />
If you’re in that category, you dare not talk like that. Don’t talk to God like that. Do not say to God, “This text is not addressing my need because I sinned my way into the mess I’m in, and you brought it on me.” That’s irrelevant. That’s the whole point of this text. These people are in a distress they deserve to be in, that God put them in. None of you may escape the good news of this text. You have no right to tell God he can’t give you good news.<br />
<br />
Oh, how many people I have dealt with over the years who try to tell God they are beyond good news. And I get upset with them because they are belittling the cross, diminishing the blood, crying down the mercy, exalting themselves in their self-pity. I won’t have it, neither in this room nor in the counseling chamber. Don’t tell God that he can’t give you good news because you’ve sinned your way into your misery, and God himself brought you under his discipline. That’s exactly their situation. We’re in this together, and we want desperately to know, How do we approach God now? How do you talk to God in that situation? That’s what they’re doing, and I want to learn as best I can how they do it.<br />
<br />
'''Rehearsing Stories of Hope'''<br />
<br />
So what do they do? It’s astonishing what they do. They pray back to God the entire history of the Old Testament. This is the longest — or maybe the right word is that this is the ''fullest'' — retelling of the Old Testament in the Old Testament. Jim Hamilton says in his new commentary, “This is the fullest retelling of the Old Testament in a short space in the Old Testament.” And it’s a prayer, so they’re telling God what God did for a thousand years — more than a thousand. That’s a remarkable way to approach God in a deserved, God-ordained distress.<br />
<br />
So in Nehemiah 9:6–31 they’re telling the story of the Old Testament. Why would they do that? Here’s why. God does not exist so that we can enjoy Bible stories. Bible stories exist so that we can enjoy God. And they desperately, desperately need to know whether our God is the kind of God in whom there’s any possibility of enjoyment in our great distress — well-deserved and given by God. Is there any hope at all that there’s a God in heaven that would give us hope that he could be enjoyed in this? That’s what they need to know.<br />
<br />
And they know where to find the answer. It’s in the story, because that’s what the stories are for: to reveal God. They desperately need to know, What kind of God do we have? Is it over for us? Or is he the kind of God that perhaps there might be some hope in a deserved, God-given distress? That’s why they’re retelling the stories back to God.<br />
<br />
'''Great and Only God'''<br />
<br />
In Nehemiah 9:6–15, the Levites celebrate the power of God, the righteousness of God, and the covenant-keeping salvation of God. Verse 6 says, “You are the Lord” (Nehemiah 9:6). You know what that refers to: Yahweh. That’s his personal name. It’s like, “You are James,” only it’s not James — it’s Yahweh. “You are Yahweh.” And you know where the name came from. “God said to Moses, ‘I am who I am.’ And he said, ‘Say this to the people of Israel, “I am has sent me to you”’” (Exodus 3:14). And the name Yahweh is built on “I am who I am,” which means every time you see big L-O-R-D, this is God saying, “I am God, and I have no competitors, and I depend on nobody and nothing. I had no beginning; I will have no end. Deal with me because that is reality.” That’s God.<br />
<br />
“You don’t negotiate with God. He is absolute reality. We are defined, he is definer.”<br />
So they began, “You are Yahweh.” It’s a good place to begin. You are absolute God. There’s no negotiation going on here at all. You don’t negotiate with God. He is absolute reality. We are defined; he is definer. We are dependent; he is totally independent. Our being comes into being; his being has always been, as inconceivable and glorious as that is. We begin here. This is a place of reverence and humility and lowliness. You begin your dealing with this God in your great distress by saying, “You are Yahweh, the great and only and absolute God.”<br />
<br />
Verse 6 in the middle says, “You have made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host, the earth and all that is on it, the seas and all that is in them; and you preserve all of them; and the host of heaven worships you” (Nehemiah 9:6). You made everything; you uphold everything. Therefore, “the host” — I like the translation ''army'' — “the [army] of heaven worships you” (Nehemiah 9:6). You are exalted. “Your glorious name . . . is exalted above all blessing and praise” (Nehemiah 9:5).<br />
<br />
That’s where you begin, right? In dealing with God, just lift him up. Now remember, these are people who are totally guilty, under distress given by God, okay? You lift up your soul in your guilt, and you lift up your soul in your distress, and you lift up your soul under the mighty hand of God, and you say, “You are God.” That’s a great place to begin.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/How_Do_I_Pray_from_the_Misery_of_My_Sin%3FHow Do I Pray from the Misery of My Sin?2022-11-21T14:35:14Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''Audio Transcript''' ''Welcome back to the podcast. We have been doing this podcast for almost a decade now. And over those ten years there have been some moving pasto...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Audio Transcript'''<br />
<br />
''Welcome back to the podcast. We have been doing this podcast for almost a decade now. And over those ten years there have been some moving pastoral moments. I remember one from a long time ago. I looked it up. It was back in APJ 131. It’s an oldie. There, Pastor John was talking about important Bible verses to memorize, ones that he has found particularly useful in serving others. One such text was Psalm 130:3: “If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?” There Pastor John testified, “How many times have I knelt down, put my arm on somebody who has just been broken over some sin that they have committed, and been able to pray over them this text: ‘Lord, if you would mark iniquities, who could stand?’” That’s a moving picture of a word spoken pastorally.''<br />
<br />
''That image, and that text, comes to mind when I think of today’s sermon clip because there’s a question about how we approach God in the midst of our brokenness, particularly in this brokenness we experience over our own sins. This very question gets answered robustly in Nehemiah 9–10. God’s people are in distress. It’s distress caused by their own sins. They know it. And they know they deserve the distress itself. So how do we approach God now? Here’s Pastor John to explain, looking at Nehemiah 9.''<br />
<br />
Starting with Nehemiah 9:6–37, the Levites are praying. This chapter is a prayer. They’re praying to the end of verse 37, and they’re crying out “to you, O God.” The word ''you'' in reference to God occurs thirty times in these verses. What did they do? What did they say? How did they deal with God in great distress? That’s what we want to know. How did they do that?<br />
<br />
'''Under God-Given Distress'''<br />
<br />
Before we ask further, let’s get more specific about the distress, because this will clarify your situation. There are some of you right now who are perhaps arguing with yourself, if not with me, “What you’re about to say is not going to apply to me because you don’t understand how I got where I am.” Let’s see whether that’s true or not.<br />
<br />
Back to verse 37. They’re not just in distress. They are in a distress that they deserve to be in because of their sin. And they are in a distress that God himself put them in. Let’s look at verse 37 to see that. “[The land’s] rich yield” — which we’re supposed to inherit as a promise — “goes to the kings whom you have set over us . . .” Slave masters. You put them over us, God, “. . . because of our sins” (Nehemiah 9:37). In other words, the great distress that we are in, we deserve to be in. And not only do we deserve to be in it, but it’s judgment sent from you.<br />
<br />
So now we get clarity on this. Some of you might be tempted to say, “The rest of you in here, you can call upon God in your distress, but not me because I sinned my way into the mess I’m in. God put me here as a discipline or a punishment. So the rest of you can go on about your merry way, following this preacher and learning how to call upon God in your distress because it just came upon you. It didn’t just come upon me. I brought it on me.” That’s their situation.<br />
<br />
If you’re in that category, you dare not talk like that. Don’t talk to God like that. Do not say to God, “This text is not addressing my need because I sinned my way into the mess I’m in, and you brought it on me.” That’s irrelevant. That’s the whole point of this text. These people are in a distress they deserve to be in, that God put them in. None of you may escape the good news of this text. You have no right to tell God he can’t give you good news.<br />
<br />
Oh, how many people I have dealt with over the years who try to tell God they are beyond good news. And I get upset with them because they are belittling the cross, diminishing the blood, crying down the mercy, exalting themselves in their self-pity. I won’t have it, neither in this room nor in the counseling chamber. Don’t tell God that he can’t give you good news because you’ve sinned your way into your misery, and God himself brought you under his discipline. That’s exactly their situation. We’re in this together, and we want desperately to know, How do we approach God now? How do you talk to God in that situation? That’s what they’re doing, and I want to learn as best I can how they do it.<br />
<br />
'''Rehearsing Stories of Hope'''<br />
<br />
So what do they do? It’s astonishing what they do. They pray back to God the entire history of the Old Testament. This is the longest — or maybe the right word is that this is the ''fullest'' — retelling of the Old Testament in the Old Testament. Jim Hamilton says in his new commentary, “This is the fullest retelling of the Old Testament in a short space in the Old Testament.” And it’s a prayer, so they’re telling God what God did for a thousand years — more than a thousand. That’s a remarkable way to approach God in a deserved, God-ordained distress.<br />
<br />
So in Nehemiah 9:6–31 they’re telling the story of the Old Testament. Why would they do that? Here’s why. God does not exist so that we can enjoy Bible stories. Bible stories exist so that we can enjoy God. And they desperately, desperately need to know whether our God is the kind of God in whom there’s any possibility of enjoyment in our great distress — well-deserved and given by God. Is there any hope at all that there’s a God in heaven that would give us hope that he could be enjoyed in this? That’s what they need to know.<br />
<br />
And they know where to find the answer. It’s in the story, because that’s what the stories are for: to reveal God. They desperately need to know, What kind of God do we have? Is it over for us? Or is he the kind of God that perhaps there might be some hope in a deserved, God-given distress? That’s why they’re retelling the stories back to God.<br />
<br />
'''Great and Only God'''<br />
<br />
In Nehemiah 9:6–15, the Levites celebrate the power of God, the righteousness of God, and the covenant-keeping salvation of God. Verse 6 says, “You are the Lord” (Nehemiah 9:6). You know what that refers to: Yahweh. That’s his personal name. It’s like, “You are James,” only it’s not James — it’s Yahweh. “You are Yahweh.” And you know where the name came from. “God said to Moses, ‘I am who I am.’ And he said, ‘Say this to the people of Israel, “I am has sent me to you”’” (Exodus 3:14). And the name Yahweh is built on “I am who I am,” which means every time you see big L-O-R-D, this is God saying, “I am God, and I have no competitors, and I depend on nobody and nothing. I had no beginning; I will have no end. Deal with me because that is reality.” That’s God.<br />
<br />
“You don’t negotiate with God. He is absolute reality. We are defined, he is definer.”<br />
So they began, “You are Yahweh.” It’s a good place to begin. You are absolute God. There’s no negotiation going on here at all. You don’t negotiate with God. He is absolute reality. We are defined; he is definer. We are dependent; he is totally independent. Our being comes into being; his being has always been, as inconceivable and glorious as that is. We begin here. This is a place of reverence and humility and lowliness. You begin your dealing with this God in your great distress by saying, “You are Yahweh, the great and only and absolute God.”<br />
<br />
Verse 6 in the middle says, “You have made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host, the earth and all that is on it, the seas and all that is in them; and you preserve all of them; and the host of heaven worships you” (Nehemiah 9:6). You made everything; you uphold everything. Therefore, “the host” — I like the translation ''army'' — “the [army] of heaven worships you” (Nehemiah 9:6). You are exalted. “Your glorious name . . . is exalted above all blessing and praise” (Nehemiah 9:5).<br />
<br />
That’s where you begin, right? In dealing with God, just lift him up. Now remember, these are people who are totally guilty, under distress given by God, okay? You lift up your soul in your guilt, and you lift up your soul in your distress, and you lift up your soul under the mighty hand of God, and you say, “You are God.” That’s a great place to begin.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Can_Christians_Date_Nonbelievers%3FCan Christians Date Nonbelievers?2022-11-21T14:25:27Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "Can Christians Date Nonbelievers?" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}Of all the Christians who start dating a nonbeliever, how many of them planned to do so?<br />
<br />
I suspect few Christians set out to intentionally date (much less marry) a nonbeliever. The question really isn’t all that controversial in theory. Would anyone who genuinely loves Jesus sincerely prefer to marry someone who doesn’t? No, but when the question comes, it’s not theoretical anymore. By the time he or she is asking about dating “a nonbeliever,” the nonbeliever already has a name, a story, often an attractive face and a good sense of humor.<br />
<br />
When we set out to marry, ''of course'' we want to marry another believer. We want to read the Bible together, pray together, go to church together, serve together. But for a variety of reasons, believers often struggle to find the right man or woman. For one, people are getting married later, which means many are having to look harder or wait longer. Combine that with apps and websites that multiply the competition hundreds of times over, and people are pickier and slower to settle down. Also, some Christians have already had bad experiences dating Christians.<br />
<br />
Considering this, it really shouldn’t surprise us that some believers entertain the idea of dating outside the church. There’s more to choose from, and you can still have some things in common. In fact, it may seem at first like you have more in common with the non-Christians online or in your class than you do with the single people you see each Sunday.<br />
<br />
But this isn’t what you wanted, is it? This wasn’t Plan A, or B, or even C. You’re here because you’ve run out of good plans. I’m writing to encourage you to press on and not settle for a bad one.<br />
<br />
'''Only in the Lord'''<br />
<br />
When it comes to dating nonbelievers, the verse that often immediately comes to mind is 2 Corinthians 6:14: “Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers.” It’s certainly relevant to our question (and we’ll come back to it in a moment), but the verse isn’t narrowly about marriage. No, probably the clearest one-verse answer is more often over-looked, 1 Corinthians 7:39:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>A wife is bound to her husband as long as he lives. But if her husband dies, she is free to be married to whom she wishes, ''only in the Lord''.</blockquote><br />
<br />
The verse might seem obscure at first, but it wasn’t for the apostle Paul. After addressing various circumstances in which followers of Jesus might marry (or not), he lands with a smaller, but precious group in the church: women who have lost a husband. It would be careless to assume, however, that what he says in verse 39 only applies to widows (as if the not-yet-married were free to marry ''outside the Lor''d). No, if a Christian decides to marry, he or she is free to marry whom he or she wishes, but ''only in the Lord''.<br />
<br />
That phrase tucked into the end of Paul’s counsel to single believers is written in large capital letters across his letters. To begin this letter, he writes, “To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those sanctified in ''Christ Jesus''. . . .” (1 Corinthians 1:2). And he ends the letter on the same all-important note: “My love be with you all ''in Christ Jesus''. Amen” (1 Corinthians 16:24). In his second letter to the same church, he writes, “If anyone is in ''Christ'', he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17).<br />
<br />
More than twenty times in 1 Corinthians alone, he uses the phrase “in the Lord” or “in Christ.” This phrase, for the apostle, was not merely a spiritual tag onto his counsel about marrying wisely; it was his whole world. In his mind, we do everything we do — especially our major commitments and callings — ''in the Lord''. For a Christian, there’s simply no other place to be, much less marry.<br />
<br />
'''What Should a Marriage Say?'''<br />
<br />
The phrase “in the Lord” was filled with meaning in another way, though. First, a Christian does everything he or she does ''in Christ'' — how much more so marriage? But then second, ''marriage'' is uniquely designed to unveil what it means to live in Christ. This love, of all human loves, was patterned after the love between him and the church.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>“A man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.” This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church. (Ephesians 5:31–32)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Most marriages in the world lie about Christ and the church. Husbands don’t sacrifice for their wives (Ephesians 5:25). They don’t read the words of God themselves, much less wash their marriages in them (verse 26). They don’t pursue holiness or encourage it in her (verse 27). They don’t delight in her like Jesus delights in us (verse 33). And many wives will not submit to the husbands God has given them (verse 22). They don’t respect their groom or support his callings (verse 33). And so their marriages slander the story they’re meant to tell. Their love warps and mangles God’s masterpiece.<br />
<br />
When Paul says, “Marry in the Lord,” he’s saying, “Tell the truth about Christ and the church.” Say with your marriage what marriage was meant to say. Marry in a way that sheds light on God and his glory, sin and grace, the cross and tomb, heaven and hell — rather than clouding them like so many do.<br />
<br />
'''Are We Unequally Yoked?'''<br />
<br />
Now let’s look at the (somewhat strange) text that often immediately comes to mind first when we talk about dating or marrying nonbelievers:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers. For what partnership has righteousness with lawlessness? Or what fellowship has light with darkness? What accord has Christ with Belial? Or what portion does a believer share with an unbeliever? What agreement has the temple of God with idols? For we are the temple of the living God. (2 Corinthians 6:14–16)</blockquote><br />
<br />
I say “strange,” because these verses don’t say anything explicit about romance or marriage. A yoke was a harness placed over two animals pulling the same cart. If the animals were mismatched (say an ox and a donkey, Deuteronomy 22:10), the one will be led astray by the other. So it is with a soul, Paul says. He’s warning the church about dangerous relationships and alliances. In this case, those dangerous alliances were forming within the church against his message and ministry. It’s still a good verse for discouraging someone from marrying a nonbeliever, but perhaps not in the way we expect.<br />
<br />
So why do we come here to talk about ''marriage?'' Because no yoke is weightier or more influential — for better or worse — than marriage.<br />
<br />
'''Marriage Could Cost Everything'''<br />
<br />
Who you marry will likely shape who you become more than any other human relationship. If your husband runs from Jesus, you won’t be able to avoid the undertow of his lovelessness. If your wife runs from Jesus, you will live in the crossfire of her unrepentant sin. You may survive an unbelieving spouse, but only as through fire. Marriage under God would become a long and devastating war.<br />
<br />
And, God warns us, you might lose your soul while fighting that war. That’s the clear warning in 2 Corinthians 6: Being yoked with the wrong kind of heart could cost you yours. We should be careful who we align ourselves with ''in the church'', Paul says. How much more so in the bedroom, in the budget and schedule, in parenting and suffering, in the demanding trenches of everyday life? The wrong marriage really might ruin you. Therefore, Paul says a few verses later, “Let us cleanse ourselves from every defilement of body and spirit, bringing holiness to completion in the fear of God” (2 Corinthians 7:1).<br />
<br />
When you read a verse like this (in context), you realize we might be asking the wrong questions in dating. Instead of asking whether we can date a nonbeliever, we might start asking, how might I bring holiness to completion in the pursuit of marriage? What will help me run my race well? Who would the fear of God lead me to love? Could holiness thrive in a relationship like this?<br />
<br />
'''Marriage Without God'''<br />
<br />
To some degree, people date and marry nonbelievers because of a lack of imagination. It’s not really all that hard to imagine ''dating'' a nonbeliever (coffee shops, bike rides, nice meals out, movies together), being ''engaged'' to a nonbeliever (finding a menu, planning a big meal, looking at homes, lots of presents), putting on ''a wedding'' with a nonbeliever (dressing up, seeing friends and family, eating well, maybe dancing), even ''enjoying a honeymoon'' with a nonbeliever (coffee shops, bike rides, nice meals out, but you get to have sex too).<br />
<br />
Imagine, for a moment, though, life ''after all that''. Real married life, the ups and downs, starts and stops, joys and agonies, is unusually hard for a single person to conceive, but I want you to try.<br />
<br />
Imagine that seven years in, you suddenly get very sick and end up in the hospital. The worst-case scenarios are now real scenarios. Your spouse walks into your hospital room, grabs a chair, pulls it close, holds your hand — and you can’t pray together. You just sit and stare and worry. Eventually he says, “Everything’s going to be alright.”<br />
<br />
Imagine meeting with God in his word one morning, being overwhelmed by his majesty and mercy — you’re brought to tears — and then going to share that with your spouse and their face is blank. They’re kind and happy to listen, but they can’t see or feel what you see and feel. They never share that kind of moment with you.<br />
<br />
Imagine getting in a big fight with your wife. Not a “I didn’t like how you said that” fight, but a “I don’t want to stay with you anymore” fight — and you don’t have the gospel between you. She doesn’t believe God joined you together. She doesn’t believe she made promises before God. She doesn’t believe there are consequences beyond this life.<br />
<br />
Imagine trying to teach your children about Jesus — reading the Bible with them, praying with them, singing with them — and he always sits in the other room. He only goes to church for Christmas and maybe Easter. Imagine your kids seeing, day in and day out, that dad doesn’t believe what mom keeps telling us. Imagine how disorienting that would be.<br />
<br />
Imagine having to make another impossible decision about a home, or a loan, or your child’s education, or a crisis in the extended family — and you don’t have a single shared verse to lean on. You can’t hear from God together, because she doesn’t believe God speaks. The Bible’s just another good book on a shelf with lots of other good books.<br />
<br />
Those are a few of a hundred scenarios where faith in God changes everything for a marriage — where “in the Lord” suddenly really matters. I suspect sincere Christians entertain the idea of marrying a nonbeliever because they cannot yet imagine what marriage will really be like. For the believer, a marriage without God would be a lifetime without sunshine, a sail without wind, a love without true love.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Can_Christians_Date_Nonbelievers%3FCan Christians Date Nonbelievers?2022-11-21T14:25:13Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}Of all the Christians who start dating a nonbeliever, how many of them planned to do so? I suspect few Christians set out to intentionally date (much less marry) a nonbe...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}Of all the Christians who start dating a nonbeliever, how many of them planned to do so?<br />
<br />
I suspect few Christians set out to intentionally date (much less marry) a nonbeliever. The question really isn’t all that controversial in theory. Would anyone who genuinely loves Jesus sincerely prefer to marry someone who doesn’t? No, but when the question comes, it’s not theoretical anymore. By the time he or she is asking about dating “a nonbeliever,” the nonbeliever already has a name, a story, often an attractive face and a good sense of humor.<br />
<br />
When we set out to marry, ''of course'' we want to marry another believer. We want to read the Bible together, pray together, go to church together, serve together. But for a variety of reasons, believers often struggle to find the right man or woman. For one, people are getting married later, which means many are having to look harder or wait longer. Combine that with apps and websites that multiply the competition hundreds of times over, and people are pickier and slower to settle down. Also, some Christians have already had bad experiences dating Christians.<br />
<br />
Considering this, it really shouldn’t surprise us that some believers entertain the idea of dating outside the church. There’s more to choose from, and you can still have some things in common. In fact, it may seem at first like you have more in common with the non-Christians online or in your class than you do with the single people you see each Sunday.<br />
<br />
But this isn’t what you wanted, is it? This wasn’t Plan A, or B, or even C. You’re here because you’ve run out of good plans. I’m writing to encourage you to press on and not settle for a bad one.<br />
<br />
'''Only in the Lord'''<br />
<br />
When it comes to dating nonbelievers, the verse that often immediately comes to mind is 2 Corinthians 6:14: “Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers.” It’s certainly relevant to our question (and we’ll come back to it in a moment), but the verse isn’t narrowly about marriage. No, probably the clearest one-verse answer is more often over-looked, 1 Corinthians 7:39:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>A wife is bound to her husband as long as he lives. But if her husband dies, she is free to be married to whom she wishes, ''only in the Lord''.</blockquote><br />
<br />
The verse might seem obscure at first, but it wasn’t for the apostle Paul. After addressing various circumstances in which followers of Jesus might marry (or not), he lands with a smaller, but precious group in the church: women who have lost a husband. It would be careless to assume, however, that what he says in verse 39 only applies to widows (as if the not-yet-married were free to marry ''outside the Lor''d). No, if a Christian decides to marry, he or she is free to marry whom he or she wishes, but ''only in the Lord''.<br />
<br />
That phrase tucked into the end of Paul’s counsel to single believers is written in large capital letters across his letters. To begin this letter, he writes, “To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those sanctified in ''Christ Jesus''. . . .” (1 Corinthians 1:2). And he ends the letter on the same all-important note: “My love be with you all ''in Christ Jesus''. Amen” (1 Corinthians 16:24). In his second letter to the same church, he writes, “If anyone is in ''Christ'', he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17).<br />
<br />
More than twenty times in 1 Corinthians alone, he uses the phrase “in the Lord” or “in Christ.” This phrase, for the apostle, was not merely a spiritual tag onto his counsel about marrying wisely; it was his whole world. In his mind, we do everything we do — especially our major commitments and callings — ''in the Lord''. For a Christian, there’s simply no other place to be, much less marry.<br />
<br />
'''What Should a Marriage Say?'''<br />
<br />
The phrase “in the Lord” was filled with meaning in another way, though. First, a Christian does everything he or she does ''in Christ'' — how much more so marriage? But then second, ''marriage'' is uniquely designed to unveil what it means to live in Christ. This love, of all human loves, was patterned after the love between him and the church.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>“A man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.” This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church. (Ephesians 5:31–32)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Most marriages in the world lie about Christ and the church. Husbands don’t sacrifice for their wives (Ephesians 5:25). They don’t read the words of God themselves, much less wash their marriages in them (verse 26). They don’t pursue holiness or encourage it in her (verse 27). They don’t delight in her like Jesus delights in us (verse 33). And many wives will not submit to the husbands God has given them (verse 22). They don’t respect their groom or support his callings (verse 33). And so their marriages slander the story they’re meant to tell. Their love warps and mangles God’s masterpiece.<br />
<br />
When Paul says, “Marry in the Lord,” he’s saying, “Tell the truth about Christ and the church.” Say with your marriage what marriage was meant to say. Marry in a way that sheds light on God and his glory, sin and grace, the cross and tomb, heaven and hell — rather than clouding them like so many do.<br />
<br />
'''Are We Unequally Yoked?'''<br />
<br />
Now let’s look at the (somewhat strange) text that often immediately comes to mind first when we talk about dating or marrying nonbelievers:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers. For what partnership has righteousness with lawlessness? Or what fellowship has light with darkness? What accord has Christ with Belial? Or what portion does a believer share with an unbeliever? What agreement has the temple of God with idols? For we are the temple of the living God. (2 Corinthians 6:14–16)</blockquote><br />
<br />
I say “strange,” because these verses don’t say anything explicit about romance or marriage. A yoke was a harness placed over two animals pulling the same cart. If the animals were mismatched (say an ox and a donkey, Deuteronomy 22:10), the one will be led astray by the other. So it is with a soul, Paul says. He’s warning the church about dangerous relationships and alliances. In this case, those dangerous alliances were forming within the church against his message and ministry. It’s still a good verse for discouraging someone from marrying a nonbeliever, but perhaps not in the way we expect.<br />
<br />
So why do we come here to talk about ''marriage?'' Because no yoke is weightier or more influential — for better or worse — than marriage.<br />
<br />
'''Marriage Could Cost Everything'''<br />
<br />
Who you marry will likely shape who you become more than any other human relationship. If your husband runs from Jesus, you won’t be able to avoid the undertow of his lovelessness. If your wife runs from Jesus, you will live in the crossfire of her unrepentant sin. You may survive an unbelieving spouse, but only as through fire. Marriage under God would become a long and devastating war.<br />
<br />
And, God warns us, you might lose your soul while fighting that war. That’s the clear warning in 2 Corinthians 6: Being yoked with the wrong kind of heart could cost you yours. We should be careful who we align ourselves with ''in the church'', Paul says. How much more so in the bedroom, in the budget and schedule, in parenting and suffering, in the demanding trenches of everyday life? The wrong marriage really might ruin you. Therefore, Paul says a few verses later, “Let us cleanse ourselves from every defilement of body and spirit, bringing holiness to completion in the fear of God” (2 Corinthians 7:1).<br />
<br />
When you read a verse like this (in context), you realize we might be asking the wrong questions in dating. Instead of asking whether we can date a nonbeliever, we might start asking, how might I bring holiness to completion in the pursuit of marriage? What will help me run my race well? Who would the fear of God lead me to love? Could holiness thrive in a relationship like this?<br />
<br />
'''Marriage Without God'''<br />
<br />
To some degree, people date and marry nonbelievers because of a lack of imagination. It’s not really all that hard to imagine ''dating'' a nonbeliever (coffee shops, bike rides, nice meals out, movies together), being ''engaged'' to a nonbeliever (finding a menu, planning a big meal, looking at homes, lots of presents), putting on ''a wedding'' with a nonbeliever (dressing up, seeing friends and family, eating well, maybe dancing), even ''enjoying a honeymoon'' with a nonbeliever (coffee shops, bike rides, nice meals out, but you get to have sex too).<br />
<br />
Imagine, for a moment, though, life ''after all that''. Real married life, the ups and downs, starts and stops, joys and agonies, is unusually hard for a single person to conceive, but I want you to try.<br />
<br />
Imagine that seven years in, you suddenly get very sick and end up in the hospital. The worst-case scenarios are now real scenarios. Your spouse walks into your hospital room, grabs a chair, pulls it close, holds your hand — and you can’t pray together. You just sit and stare and worry. Eventually he says, “Everything’s going to be alright.”<br />
<br />
Imagine meeting with God in his word one morning, being overwhelmed by his majesty and mercy — you’re brought to tears — and then going to share that with your spouse and their face is blank. They’re kind and happy to listen, but they can’t see or feel what you see and feel. They never share that kind of moment with you.<br />
<br />
Imagine getting in a big fight with your wife. Not a “I didn’t like how you said that” fight, but a “I don’t want to stay with you anymore” fight — and you don’t have the gospel between you. She doesn’t believe God joined you together. She doesn’t believe she made promises before God. She doesn’t believe there are consequences beyond this life.<br />
<br />
Imagine trying to teach your children about Jesus — reading the Bible with them, praying with them, singing with them — and he always sits in the other room. He only goes to church for Christmas and maybe Easter. Imagine your kids seeing, day in and day out, that dad doesn’t believe what mom keeps telling us. Imagine how disorienting that would be.<br />
<br />
Imagine having to make another impossible decision about a home, or a loan, or your child’s education, or a crisis in the extended family — and you don’t have a single shared verse to lean on. You can’t hear from God together, because she doesn’t believe God speaks. The Bible’s just another good book on a shelf with lots of other good books.<br />
<br />
Those are a few of a hundred scenarios where faith in God changes everything for a marriage — where “in the Lord” suddenly really matters. I suspect sincere Christians entertain the idea of marrying a nonbeliever because they cannot yet imagine what marriage will really be like. For the believer, a marriage without God would be a lifetime without sunshine, a sail without wind, a love without true love.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/God_Made_the_World_for_WorshipGod Made the World for Worship2022-11-21T02:44:36Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "God Made the World for Worship" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''His Glory in Individuals and Gatherings'''<br />
<br />
The ''individual'' human soul, rightly seeing the glory of Christ and rightly savoring the glory of Christ, is at the heart of God’s purpose in creating the world. Until we grasp, in some measure, why that is the case, we will not be able to give an account for why the ''corporate'' reality of the worshiping church is essential to God’s purpose in creating the world.<br />
<br />
So what I hope to do in this message is steer a biblical course between two errors. On the one side, I want us to avoid the error of thinking that the relationship between the individual worshiping human soul and God ''is in itself'' the ultimate purpose of God in creation. It’s not.<br />
<br />
On the other side, I want us to avoid the error of being so captivated by the corporate reality of the worshiping people of God — the ''body'' of Christ, the ''temple'' of God, the ''bride'' of Christ — that we lose sight of the fact that the vital, ongoing, eternal intensity of the individual soul’s affection for God is absolutely essential to the very existence of the corporate reality of the worshiping church.<br />
<br />
The New Testament forbids us to forget, neglect, or minimize the radical, essential, eternal significance of the individual worshiping human person. And the New Testament forbids that we forget, neglect, or minimize the coming into being of the blazingly beautiful bride of Christ who is more than the sum of her flaming parts, though not less.<br />
<br />
'''Individual Soul and Glory'''<br />
<br />
Let’s begin by focusing on the relationship between the individual soul and the ultimate purpose of God in creation. One of the clearest statements in the Bible of God’s ultimate purpose in creation is found in Isaiah 43:6–7:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Bring my sons from afar,<br><br />
and my daughters from the end of the earth,<br><br />
everyone who is called by my name,<br><br />
whom I created for my glory.</blockquote><br />
<br />
Or there’s Ephesians 1:11–12: “[He] works all things according to the counsel of his will, so that we . . . might be to the praise of his glory.” And we have Romans 11:36: “From him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.”<br />
<br />
God created the world, he sustains the world, he governs the world, he is doing his saving work in the world, in order to display his glory — his greatness, his beauty, his worth, the whole panorama of his perfections. We see this all across Scripture:<br />
<br />
*“The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork” (Psalm 19:1).<br />
*“The trees of the forest sing for joy” (Psalm 96:12).<br />
*“Let the rivers clap their hands; let the hills sing for joy together” (Psalm 98:8).<br />
*“[The meadows and the valleys] shout and sing together for joy” (Psalm 65:13).<br />
*“Sing, O heavens . . . shout, O depths of the earth; break forth into singing, O mountains, O forest, and every tree in it! For the Lord . . . will be glorified in Israel” (Isaiah 44:23).<br />
The heavens, the mountains, the hills, the forests of trees, the rivers, and the meadows — they all were created to sing the glories of their Maker. And they do. And so does the most brilliant assembly of one hundred and fifty unbelieving singers gathered to perform Händel’s ''Messiah'' at Easter, surrounded by the most accomplished orchestra of unbelieving musicians. When they play with excellence and beautifully sing those magnificent biblical truths, all of it reflects the glory of God, like trees clapping their hands.<br />
<br />
'''Why Worship Must Cherish'''<br />
<br />
So if God gets so much glory from the external echoes of his excellencies in the things he has made — including unbelieving musicians and scientists and athletes — why is there any need for the individual human soul to have any particular affections for God? Isn’t God’s purpose to be glorified being achieved anyway?<br />
<br />
No, it’s not. God does not intend to be half-glorified.<br />
<br />
A king may be glorified for his great achievements and power and wisdom if he rules his kingdom with an iron hand and sees to it that great fortifications are built, and beautiful buildings and gardens are constructed, and citizens, under coercion, are forced to become excellent musicians and perform for him the finest pieces of musical art. This king may have a reputation for his power throughout the world.<br />
<br />
But he is not so great nor so glorified as a king who is loved by his people — admired, revered, cherished, treasured, enjoyed, desired — so that out of that affection for their king, these happy subjects build even greater fortifications and buildings and gardens and musical compositions. A king is more glorified by a cherishing people than a cowering people. God does not intend to be half-glorified.<br />
<br />
'''Not All Sound Is Worshipful Song'''<br />
<br />
Jesus said to the scribes and Pharisees, “You hypocrites! Well did Isaiah prophesy of you, when he said: ‘This people honors me with their lips, but their ''heart'' is far from me; in vain do they worship me’” (Matthew 15:7–9). Here you have an excellent use of lips: “You ''honor me'' with your lips. My honor, my glory, is sounding from your lips. I am being glorified by your mouth, just like I’m glorified by the mountains and trees and rivers that have no souls, and just like I am glorified by unbelieving choral ensembles that sing the ‘Hallelujah Chorus.’”<br />
<br />
But Jesus still says that their heart, their soul — their individual human soul — is far from him. What does he mean? Jesus tells us in Matthew 15:9: “In vain do they worship me.” In vain. Meaning: “The external echo of my excellence is a zero when it comes to the essence of the kind of worship I created this world to give. A zero.”<br />
<br />
Why? “I did not create the world to get magnificent nothings from the hearts of humans created in my image — whether they are singing the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ in unbelief or going through the motions of corporate worship in church on Sunday morning. That’s not why I created the world. I created the world not only for the echo of my excellence in the external wonders of the created world, including humans created in my image, but also for the echo of my excellence in the ''affections'' of my people.”<br />
<br />
And where those affections are missing — where Jesus is not trusted and loved and cherished and treasured and desired — the words of God through Amos 5:23 will sound out over our worship services and choral performances:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Take away from me the noise of your songs;<br><br />
to the melody of your harps I will not listen.</blockquote><br />
<br />
And it almost goes without saying (but it is so crucial I will say it) that these absolutely essential affections for God happen in the individual human soul — or the heart, as Jesus calls it Matthew 15:8. This is why the vital, ongoing, eternal intensity of the individual human person’s affection for God is absolutely essential for the fulfillment of God’s purpose in creating the world, namely, that he be not half-glorified (as by trees and unbelieving musicians), but glorified as he ought in the affections of the heart.<br />
<br />
'''Gathered People and Glory'''<br />
<br />
Now we turn to this question: If affections for God in the ''individual'' human soul are the ''essence'' of the self-glorifying purpose of God in creating the world, how do those heart-affections give rise to the ''corporate'' reality of the worshiping church? Because it is clear from the New Testament that God’s ultimate purpose is not millions of isolated, independent, human souls with white-hot affections for God, like great solos.<br />
<br />
God is bringing into being a diverse, global church pictured as the ''body'' of Christ, the ''temple'' of God, the ''bride'' of Christ. Paul pictures the church as the wife of Jesus in Ephesians 5:27 and says that Christ’s purpose in coming and dying was “so that he might present the ''church'' to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.” Christ means to have a beautiful wife. That’s not the same as saying he aims to have many individual worshipers. She is more than the sum of her parts, though not less.<br />
<br />
This conference is devoted to blessing churches understood as local expressions of that emerging, global, everlasting, corporate, worshiping reality called the bride of Christ. What local churches do in their gathered worshiping assemblies is rehearse for that eternal vocation of corporate worship by the bride of Christ.<br />
<br />
'''To God and One Another'''<br />
<br />
The text that connects the heart of the ''individual'' worshiping lover of Jesus with this ''corporate'' reality is Ephesians 5:18–19: “Be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody ''to the Lord'' with ''your heart''” (Ephesians 5:18–19). Notice those three dimensions: all of this singing is from “your heart,” all of it is “to the Lord,” and all of it is “addressing one another.”<br />
<br />
It doesn’t matter whether the words of the song happen to be (the vertically directed) “We Come, O Christ, to You” or (the horizontally directed) “Come, Christians, Join to Sing.” Whether it is verbally directed to God or verbally directed to man, in both cases it is ''to God'' and in both cases it is addressing man because in corporate worship everybody is hearing every song, and God is attending to every song. And all the songs are sung ''from the heart'' — or they’re not worship. That is God’s design, as we rehearse for the everlasting corporate worship of the bride.<br />
<br />
What is plain from those three dimensions in Ephesians 5:18–19 is that the birthplace and essence of worship is the individual human heart. That’s where the glory of Christ awakens the Christ-exalting affections that magnify his greatness and beauty and worth. Then from this furnace of Christ-exalting affections there flames up expressions in song to God and to people.<br />
<br />
The corporate reality of the worshiping bride of Christ is brought into being by God’s combining these individual burning hearts of worship into a new reality — the worshiping bride of Christ — first in the foretastes of our gatherings and finally in the complete, perfected, eternal worship of the bride. This is the ultimate goal of God in creation.<br />
<br />
Why? What is it about the corporate reality of the singing bride that makes her worship the ultimate end of God’s purpose, rather than simply white-hot individual worshipers? Why is it that God designed for individual hearts aflame with holy affections for God to combine into a new reality of corporate worship, the worshiping bride of Christ? I’ll give three biblical answers to that question, and they all have the effect of elevating the importance of united congregational worship as high as I know how to elevate it. It is the rehearsal and foretaste of the ultimate aim of creation.<br />
<br />
'''1. Shared joy increases joy.'''<br />
<br />
First, there is a pointer in 2 Corinthians 2:2–3, where Paul touches on the mystery of the union of souls as individual joy becomes shared joy. Paul says to the church, “If I cause you pain, who is there to ''make me glad'' but the one whom I have pained?” And: “I felt sure of all of you, that my joy would be the joy of you all.”<br />
<br />
In the body of Christ, where we are spiritually united in him, something profound happens in the experience of joy in God. It’s not merely that the corporate reality is the assembly of solitary joys. Paul said, “My joy is the joy of you all, and yours is mine. My joy is more because yours is mine, and yours is more because mine is yours.”<br />
<br />
Therefore, the totality of Christ-exalting affection that comes into being especially in corporate worship is greater than the sum of individual affections. The worshiping bride is the goal of creation because the interpenetration of Christ-exalting joy is something new, something greater, something more God-glorifying than the assembled joy of individual worshiping hearts.<br />
<br />
'''2. Diverse voices sing more beautiful harmonies.'''<br />
<br />
Second, the unified harmony of diverse voices is more beautiful than the greatest sound of voices in unison. It is a glorious thing when a thousand voices, like a trumpet blast, sound in unison. But when those voices break into the unified diversity of harmony, something more glorious comes into being.<br />
<br />
And this is not just a musical phenomenon. It is true in relation to countless diversities God is assembling into his church — across all time and all geography. Ethnic diversities, age diversities, male and female diversities, personality diversities, taste and preference diversities, voice quality diversities. (Think of voices like Bob Dylan and Pavarotti.)<br />
<br />
In the unified diversity of the worshiping bride of Christ something more beautiful is created, and Christ is more glorified as the Creator and Redeemer and Beloved of that bride. That’s why the corporate worship of the bride is ultimate.<br />
<br />
'''3. Diverse affections display Christ’s worth.'''<br />
<br />
And third, God designed for Christ to have a worshiping bride and not just worshiping individuals, because the greatness and beauty and worth of the Leader is revealed by the extent of the diversity he is able to inspire and unify in one following, one body, one bride.<br />
<br />
This is why the song of heaven in Revelation 5 calls attention to the worthiness of Christ — precisely because he ransomed so many diverse peoples and united them into one kingdom and one singing priesthood.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>They sang a new song, saying,</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“''Worthy'' are you to take the scroll<br><br />
and to open its seals,<br><br />
for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God<br><br />
from every tribe and language and people and nation,<br><br />
and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God,<br><br />
and they shall reign on the earth.” (Revelation 5:9–10)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The glory of Christ shines more brightly because he is the kind of Leader-Redeemer who holds together the allegiance and the affections of so many peoples, tribes, tongues, and nations in our worshiping kingdom.<br />
<br />
The universe was created to display the worth of the Lamb, and in him the glory of God. When you gather in congregational worship next Sunday, remember: small or large, you are not just individual worshipers; you are a manifestation, a foretaste, a rehearsal of the end for which God made the world: the combining of individual souls aflame for God into something more — the greater joy, the greater harmony, the greater diverse affections of the worshiping bride of Christ — the goal of all things.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/God_Made_the_World_for_WorshipGod Made the World for Worship2022-11-21T02:44:05Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''His Glory in Individuals and Gatherings''' The ''individual'' human soul, rightly seeing the glory of Christ and rightly savoring the glory of Christ, is at the heart...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''His Glory in Individuals and Gatherings'''<br />
<br />
The ''individual'' human soul, rightly seeing the glory of Christ and rightly savoring the glory of Christ, is at the heart of God’s purpose in creating the world. Until we grasp, in some measure, why that is the case, we will not be able to give an account for why the ''corporate'' reality of the worshiping church is essential to God’s purpose in creating the world.<br />
<br />
So what I hope to do in this message is steer a biblical course between two errors. On the one side, I want us to avoid the error of thinking that the relationship between the individual worshiping human soul and God ''is in itself'' the ultimate purpose of God in creation. It’s not.<br />
<br />
On the other side, I want us to avoid the error of being so captivated by the corporate reality of the worshiping people of God — the ''body'' of Christ, the ''temple'' of God, the ''bride'' of Christ — that we lose sight of the fact that the vital, ongoing, eternal intensity of the individual soul’s affection for God is absolutely essential to the very existence of the corporate reality of the worshiping church.<br />
<br />
The New Testament forbids us to forget, neglect, or minimize the radical, essential, eternal significance of the individual worshiping human person. And the New Testament forbids that we forget, neglect, or minimize the coming into being of the blazingly beautiful bride of Christ who is more than the sum of her flaming parts, though not less.<br />
<br />
'''Individual Soul and Glory'''<br />
<br />
Let’s begin by focusing on the relationship between the individual soul and the ultimate purpose of God in creation. One of the clearest statements in the Bible of God’s ultimate purpose in creation is found in Isaiah 43:6–7:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Bring my sons from afar,<br><br />
and my daughters from the end of the earth,<br><br />
everyone who is called by my name,<br><br />
whom I created for my glory.</blockquote><br />
<br />
Or there’s Ephesians 1:11–12: “[He] works all things according to the counsel of his will, so that we . . . might be to the praise of his glory.” And we have Romans 11:36: “From him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.”<br />
<br />
God created the world, he sustains the world, he governs the world, he is doing his saving work in the world, in order to display his glory — his greatness, his beauty, his worth, the whole panorama of his perfections. We see this all across Scripture:<br />
<br />
*“The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork” (Psalm 19:1).<br />
*“The trees of the forest sing for joy” (Psalm 96:12).<br />
*“Let the rivers clap their hands; let the hills sing for joy together” (Psalm 98:8).<br />
*“[The meadows and the valleys] shout and sing together for joy” (Psalm 65:13).<br />
*“Sing, O heavens . . . shout, O depths of the earth; break forth into singing, O mountains, O forest, and every tree in it! For the Lord . . . will be glorified in Israel” (Isaiah 44:23).<br />
The heavens, the mountains, the hills, the forests of trees, the rivers, and the meadows — they all were created to sing the glories of their Maker. And they do. And so does the most brilliant assembly of one hundred and fifty unbelieving singers gathered to perform Händel’s ''Messiah'' at Easter, surrounded by the most accomplished orchestra of unbelieving musicians. When they play with excellence and beautifully sing those magnificent biblical truths, all of it reflects the glory of God, like trees clapping their hands.<br />
<br />
'''Why Worship Must Cherish'''<br />
<br />
So if God gets so much glory from the external echoes of his excellencies in the things he has made — including unbelieving musicians and scientists and athletes — why is there any need for the individual human soul to have any particular affections for God? Isn’t God’s purpose to be glorified being achieved anyway?<br />
<br />
No, it’s not. God does not intend to be half-glorified.<br />
<br />
A king may be glorified for his great achievements and power and wisdom if he rules his kingdom with an iron hand and sees to it that great fortifications are built, and beautiful buildings and gardens are constructed, and citizens, under coercion, are forced to become excellent musicians and perform for him the finest pieces of musical art. This king may have a reputation for his power throughout the world.<br />
<br />
But he is not so great nor so glorified as a king who is loved by his people — admired, revered, cherished, treasured, enjoyed, desired — so that out of that affection for their king, these happy subjects build even greater fortifications and buildings and gardens and musical compositions. A king is more glorified by a cherishing people than a cowering people. God does not intend to be half-glorified.<br />
<br />
'''Not All Sound Is Worshipful Song'''<br />
<br />
Jesus said to the scribes and Pharisees, “You hypocrites! Well did Isaiah prophesy of you, when he said: ‘This people honors me with their lips, but their ''heart'' is far from me; in vain do they worship me’” (Matthew 15:7–9). Here you have an excellent use of lips: “You ''honor me'' with your lips. My honor, my glory, is sounding from your lips. I am being glorified by your mouth, just like I’m glorified by the mountains and trees and rivers that have no souls, and just like I am glorified by unbelieving choral ensembles that sing the ‘Hallelujah Chorus.’”<br />
<br />
But Jesus still says that their heart, their soul — their individual human soul — is far from him. What does he mean? Jesus tells us in Matthew 15:9: “In vain do they worship me.” In vain. Meaning: “The external echo of my excellence is a zero when it comes to the essence of the kind of worship I created this world to give. A zero.”<br />
<br />
Why? “I did not create the world to get magnificent nothings from the hearts of humans created in my image — whether they are singing the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ in unbelief or going through the motions of corporate worship in church on Sunday morning. That’s not why I created the world. I created the world not only for the echo of my excellence in the external wonders of the created world, including humans created in my image, but also for the echo of my excellence in the ''affections'' of my people.”<br />
<br />
And where those affections are missing — where Jesus is not trusted and loved and cherished and treasured and desired — the words of God through Amos 5:23 will sound out over our worship services and choral performances:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Take away from me the noise of your songs;<br><br />
to the melody of your harps I will not listen.</blockquote><br />
<br />
And it almost goes without saying (but it is so crucial I will say it) that these absolutely essential affections for God happen in the individual human soul — or the heart, as Jesus calls it Matthew 15:8. This is why the vital, ongoing, eternal intensity of the individual human person’s affection for God is absolutely essential for the fulfillment of God’s purpose in creating the world, namely, that he be not half-glorified (as by trees and unbelieving musicians), but glorified as he ought in the affections of the heart.<br />
<br />
'''Gathered People and Glory'''<br />
<br />
Now we turn to this question: If affections for God in the ''individual'' human soul are the ''essence'' of the self-glorifying purpose of God in creating the world, how do those heart-affections give rise to the ''corporate'' reality of the worshiping church? Because it is clear from the New Testament that God’s ultimate purpose is not millions of isolated, independent, human souls with white-hot affections for God, like great solos.<br />
<br />
God is bringing into being a diverse, global church pictured as the ''body'' of Christ, the ''temple'' of God, the ''bride'' of Christ. Paul pictures the church as the wife of Jesus in Ephesians 5:27 and says that Christ’s purpose in coming and dying was “so that he might present the ''church'' to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.” Christ means to have a beautiful wife. That’s not the same as saying he aims to have many individual worshipers. She is more than the sum of her parts, though not less.<br />
<br />
This conference is devoted to blessing churches understood as local expressions of that emerging, global, everlasting, corporate, worshiping reality called the bride of Christ. What local churches do in their gathered worshiping assemblies is rehearse for that eternal vocation of corporate worship by the bride of Christ.<br />
<br />
'''To God and One Another'''<br />
<br />
The text that connects the heart of the ''individual'' worshiping lover of Jesus with this ''corporate'' reality is Ephesians 5:18–19: “Be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody ''to the Lord'' with ''your heart''” (Ephesians 5:18–19). Notice those three dimensions: all of this singing is from “your heart,” all of it is “to the Lord,” and all of it is “addressing one another.”<br />
<br />
It doesn’t matter whether the words of the song happen to be (the vertically directed) “We Come, O Christ, to You” or (the horizontally directed) “Come, Christians, Join to Sing.” Whether it is verbally directed to God or verbally directed to man, in both cases it is ''to God'' and in both cases it is addressing man because in corporate worship everybody is hearing every song, and God is attending to every song. And all the songs are sung ''from the heart'' — or they’re not worship. That is God’s design, as we rehearse for the everlasting corporate worship of the bride.<br />
<br />
What is plain from those three dimensions in Ephesians 5:18–19 is that the birthplace and essence of worship is the individual human heart. That’s where the glory of Christ awakens the Christ-exalting affections that magnify his greatness and beauty and worth. Then from this furnace of Christ-exalting affections there flames up expressions in song to God and to people.<br />
<br />
The corporate reality of the worshiping bride of Christ is brought into being by God’s combining these individual burning hearts of worship into a new reality — the worshiping bride of Christ — first in the foretastes of our gatherings and finally in the complete, perfected, eternal worship of the bride. This is the ultimate goal of God in creation.<br />
<br />
Why? What is it about the corporate reality of the singing bride that makes her worship the ultimate end of God’s purpose, rather than simply white-hot individual worshipers? Why is it that God designed for individual hearts aflame with holy affections for God to combine into a new reality of corporate worship, the worshiping bride of Christ? I’ll give three biblical answers to that question, and they all have the effect of elevating the importance of united congregational worship as high as I know how to elevate it. It is the rehearsal and foretaste of the ultimate aim of creation.<br />
<br />
'''1. Shared joy increases joy.'''<br />
<br />
First, there is a pointer in 2 Corinthians 2:2–3, where Paul touches on the mystery of the union of souls as individual joy becomes shared joy. Paul says to the church, “If I cause you pain, who is there to ''make me glad'' but the one whom I have pained?” And: “I felt sure of all of you, that my joy would be the joy of you all.”<br />
<br />
In the body of Christ, where we are spiritually united in him, something profound happens in the experience of joy in God. It’s not merely that the corporate reality is the assembly of solitary joys. Paul said, “My joy is the joy of you all, and yours is mine. My joy is more because yours is mine, and yours is more because mine is yours.”<br />
<br />
Therefore, the totality of Christ-exalting affection that comes into being especially in corporate worship is greater than the sum of individual affections. The worshiping bride is the goal of creation because the interpenetration of Christ-exalting joy is something new, something greater, something more God-glorifying than the assembled joy of individual worshiping hearts.<br />
<br />
'''2. Diverse voices sing more beautiful harmonies.'''<br />
<br />
Second, the unified harmony of diverse voices is more beautiful than the greatest sound of voices in unison. It is a glorious thing when a thousand voices, like a trumpet blast, sound in unison. But when those voices break into the unified diversity of harmony, something more glorious comes into being.<br />
<br />
And this is not just a musical phenomenon. It is true in relation to countless diversities God is assembling into his church — across all time and all geography. Ethnic diversities, age diversities, male and female diversities, personality diversities, taste and preference diversities, voice quality diversities. (Think of voices like Bob Dylan and Pavarotti.)<br />
<br />
In the unified diversity of the worshiping bride of Christ something more beautiful is created, and Christ is more glorified as the Creator and Redeemer and Beloved of that bride. That’s why the corporate worship of the bride is ultimate.<br />
<br />
'''3. Diverse affections display Christ’s worth.'''<br />
<br />
And third, God designed for Christ to have a worshiping bride and not just worshiping individuals, because the greatness and beauty and worth of the Leader is revealed by the extent of the diversity he is able to inspire and unify in one following, one body, one bride.<br />
<br />
This is why the song of heaven in Revelation 5 calls attention to the worthiness of Christ — precisely because he ransomed so many diverse peoples and united them into one kingdom and one singing priesthood.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>They sang a new song, saying,</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“''Worthy'' are you to take the scroll<br><br />
and to open its seals,<br><br />
for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God<br><br />
from every tribe and language and people and nation,<br><br />
and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God,<br><br />
and they shall reign on the earth.” (Revelation 5:9–10)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The glory of Christ shines more brightly because he is the kind of Leader-Redeemer who holds together the allegiance and the affections of so many peoples, tribes, tongues, and nations in our worshiping kingdom.<br />
<br />
The universe was created to display the worth of the Lamb, and in him the glory of God. When you gather in congregational worship next Sunday, remember: small or large, you are not just individual worshipers; you are a manifestation, a foretaste, a rehearsal of the end for which God made the world: the combining of individual souls aflame for God into something more — the greater joy, the greater harmony, the greater diverse affections of the worshiping bride of Christ — the goal of all things.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/The_Embattled_PastorThe Embattled Pastor2022-11-21T02:24:30Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "The Embattled Pastor" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div> {{info}}'''How to Navigate Conflict and Criticism'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>“Your church lacks community.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“You botched caring for me during my husband’s affair.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“You are not a warm church.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“Too much red tape at the church.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“The church is too big.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“Your scripted prayers seem silly.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
''Ouch'', I thought when reading these words. These were comments directed at ''our'' church, ''our'' people, and ''our'' leadership. Each critique stung like a handful of gravel hitting my face. As anyone in leadership knows, criticism stings. Though we asked for this feedback from departing members, criticism is never pleasant when it comes.<br />
<br />
As biting as such disapproval can be, however, it’s still better than open hostilities and quarreling. Disagreement, misunderstandings, frustration, and disunity can tear at the seams of Christ’s church. Conflict leads to hurt feelings, judged motives, and flared tempers. Church members might take sides. Gossip and whispers spread like wildfire, and soon the forest is raging. If criticism is like a sprained ankle, conflict is the fracture.<br />
<br />
'''Conflict Goes Way Back'''<br />
<br />
Conflict and criticism in the church are inevitable at times. Life is messy, full of bumps and bruises. The church is a gathering of sinners who unfortunately still sin. Misunderstandings happen. Sharp words cut and attack, impossible to reel back in. Criticism can lead to conflict and conflict to criticism, running on a dreadful treadmill of hurt and pain. The last several years brought about increased friction in many churches, but conflict is not new. Disunity that divides churches has been around since the beginning.<br />
<br />
In Philippians, Paul entreats two beloved co-laborers of the gospel — Euodia and Syntyche — to “agree in the Lord” (Philippians 4:2). These two women have labored side by side with Paul, and their names are written in the book of life (Philippians 4:3). They are genuine followers of Christ who were “together for the gospel” but are now divided by some sharp disagreement that has become known to the entire church. Church conflict is as old as the church.<br />
<br />
Addressing conflict is not easy work. It’s like plunging the toilet: messy, unpleasant, but necessary. Ignoring conflict only exacerbates it, like closing the basement door as the black mold creeps up the walls. It’s not going to go away by itself, and the results will be catastrophic.<br />
<br />
'''Three Ways to Lead in Conflict'''<br />
<br />
How, then, can pastors and elders move toward the fray rather than retreat? Like courageous first responders who run toward chaos, how can pastors be ready to engage conflict with courage, conviction, humility, and gentleness?<br />
<br />
It’s no easy task. Some can be paralyzed by fear of man and fear of failure. Still others are much too eager to jump into battle. Like prizefighters eager to find sparring partners, such pastors are unfit to engage. Consider Paul’s wise words to the young Timothy:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>The Lord’s servant must ''not be quarrelsome'' but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will. (2 Timothy 2:24–26)</blockquote><br />
<br />
We see the difficulty of the task. Pastors cannot run from conflict, nor can they be too eager to fight. Kindness, patience, and gentleness must accompany the willingness to engage, exhort, admonish, and rebuke. How does one thread the needle? What truths help Christian pastors and leaders engage in conflict willingly, without relishing the next quarrel? Consider three foundational beliefs for those who seek to serve in conflict.<br />
<br />
'''1. Humbly remember this is God’s church.'''<br />
<br />
First, remember that the church is not yours. Moses models this humble attitude. After the exodus, God’s anger is stirred up against Israel’s idolatrous worship of the golden calf. What does Moses do? He intercedes by reminding God “that this nation is ''your people''” (Exodus 33:13). Moses makes clear that Israel isn’t ''his'' people, but God’s. He models humble dependence upon God to work among his people for their good.<br />
<br />
The parallel for pastors is this: humbly remember that the church is ''Christ’s church''. When conflict comes, spiritual leaders are wise to resist the urge to fix things in their own strength and wisdom. Jesus is sanctifying ''his'' church. He is eager to give his help, his wisdom, and his grace for the good of ''his'' church. Pastors are also wise to remember they, and their churches, are being sanctified. Lessons remain to be learned; grace remains to be given; more wisdom is yet to be bestowed. God works in and through conflict for the good of his people. Remember, Jesus is the master carpenter, crafting his ultimate creation, the glorious church of God.<br />
<br />
Pastors, pray like King Solomon as he faced the daunting task of leading God’s people:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Now, O Lord my God, you have made your servant king in place of David my father, although I am but a little child. I do not know how to go out or come in. . . . Give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, that I may discern between good and evil, for who is able to govern this your great people? (1 Kings 3:7, 9)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Humbly pray for discernment to lead the great people of God. Ask for wisdom from the God who gives generously and lavishly, for the benefit of his church (James 1:5).<br />
<br />
'''2. Humbly remember Christ’s example.'''<br />
<br />
Second, emulate Christ’s example of selflessness and sacrifice. Pastors are undershepherds who take cues from the chief Shepherd himself. And Jesus “emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. . . . He humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:7–8). All believers, and especially leaders, are called to imitate his humility, servanthood, and sacrifice.<br />
<br />
Selfish ambition, conceit, envy, and rivalry have no place in the church, much less among the church’s leaders. Some of the strongest condemnations in Scripture are against the self-serving shepherds of Ezekiel 34. God’s people were scattered, devoured, and preyed upon by Israel’s shepherds. Nothing will undermine leadership more quickly than selfishness and a lack of humility. God’s servants must indeed be ''servants'', humbly obeying the master. Pastors are to “share in suffering as a good soldier of Christ Jesus” (2 Timothy 2:3). We pastors serve at the pleasure of the King. We are under authority. When armed with the mind of Christ, pastors are able to maintain the unity of the Spirit, outdo one another in honor, and “reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching” (2 Timothy 4:2).<br />
<br />
As pastors, we put aside personal preferences and opinions, and seek to serve as Christ would have us, exhibiting his selflessness and patience. We eagerly and humbly embrace the role of ''servant'' as undershepherds of Christ.<br />
<br />
'''3. Humbly speak the truth in love.'''<br />
<br />
Finally, speak the truth in love. Godly pastors exhibit an unswerving commitment to truthfulness that is honed and shaped by a deep, abiding love for God’s people. They cultivate Paul-like love, yearning for their people with the affection of Christ Jesus (Philippians 1:8). Their words build up rather than tear down; their speech is loving. What they say, even while admonishing, is infused with gentleness and care. Their teaching has the essence of love coupled with the unflinching truth.<br />
<br />
It’s here that many a pastor has gone astray. The temptation to appease, placate, and quell conflict and tension is great. Yet, undershepherds’ words are to be “gracious, seasoned with salt,” never lies or half-truths masquerading as graciousness (Colossians 4:6). Pastors are to “set the believers an example in speech” (1 Timothy 4:12). With Paul, pastors renounce all the disgraceful, underhanded ways of the world (2 Corinthians 4:2).<br />
<br />
Candid speech sheds light, rather than obscuring. So, pastors stubbornly let their yes be yes and their no be no (James 5:12). We seek to be tenaciously true to our words. We labor not to undermine the trust we have been given by God to be heralds of the great truth of the gospel. We resist any temptation to mollify critics by modifying the truth. Instead, we refuse to tamper with the truth, but proclaim the truth in love so that the church might grow up into Christ (Ephesians 4:15).<br />
<br />
'''Hope in God Who Is Working'''<br />
<br />
In the midst of choppy waters, remember God’s promise to his servants and to his people. God promises undershepherds a glorious reward: “When the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory” (1 Peter 5:4). Conflict and criticism will never be easy, but the pains and labors will be small compared to the surpassing worth of knowing Christ.<br />
<br />
Similarly, God promises his people that he will complete the good work he has begun (Philippians 1:6). The church is being sanctified so that it will be pure and blameless for the day of Christ. Hold onto that promise as a raft of hope as you dive into the choppy waters for the good of Christ’s church.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/The_Embattled_PastorThe Embattled Pastor2022-11-21T02:24:16Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with ' {{info}}'''How to Navigate Conflict and Criticism''' <blockquote>“Your church lacks community.”</blockquote> <blockquote>“You botched caring for me during my husband’s...'</p>
<hr />
<div> {{info}}'''How to Navigate Conflict and Criticism'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>“Your church lacks community.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“You botched caring for me during my husband’s affair.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“You are not a warm church.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“Too much red tape at the church.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“The church is too big.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>“Your scripted prayers seem silly.”</blockquote><br />
<br />
''Ouch'', I thought when reading these words. These were comments directed at ''our'' church, ''our'' people, and ''our'' leadership. Each critique stung like a handful of gravel hitting my face. As anyone in leadership knows, criticism stings. Though we asked for this feedback from departing members, criticism is never pleasant when it comes.<br />
<br />
As biting as such disapproval can be, however, it’s still better than open hostilities and quarreling. Disagreement, misunderstandings, frustration, and disunity can tear at the seams of Christ’s church. Conflict leads to hurt feelings, judged motives, and flared tempers. Church members might take sides. Gossip and whispers spread like wildfire, and soon the forest is raging. If criticism is like a sprained ankle, conflict is the fracture.<br />
<br />
'''Conflict Goes Way Back'''<br />
<br />
Conflict and criticism in the church are inevitable at times. Life is messy, full of bumps and bruises. The church is a gathering of sinners who unfortunately still sin. Misunderstandings happen. Sharp words cut and attack, impossible to reel back in. Criticism can lead to conflict and conflict to criticism, running on a dreadful treadmill of hurt and pain. The last several years brought about increased friction in many churches, but conflict is not new. Disunity that divides churches has been around since the beginning.<br />
<br />
In Philippians, Paul entreats two beloved co-laborers of the gospel — Euodia and Syntyche — to “agree in the Lord” (Philippians 4:2). These two women have labored side by side with Paul, and their names are written in the book of life (Philippians 4:3). They are genuine followers of Christ who were “together for the gospel” but are now divided by some sharp disagreement that has become known to the entire church. Church conflict is as old as the church.<br />
<br />
Addressing conflict is not easy work. It’s like plunging the toilet: messy, unpleasant, but necessary. Ignoring conflict only exacerbates it, like closing the basement door as the black mold creeps up the walls. It’s not going to go away by itself, and the results will be catastrophic.<br />
<br />
'''Three Ways to Lead in Conflict'''<br />
<br />
How, then, can pastors and elders move toward the fray rather than retreat? Like courageous first responders who run toward chaos, how can pastors be ready to engage conflict with courage, conviction, humility, and gentleness?<br />
<br />
It’s no easy task. Some can be paralyzed by fear of man and fear of failure. Still others are much too eager to jump into battle. Like prizefighters eager to find sparring partners, such pastors are unfit to engage. Consider Paul’s wise words to the young Timothy:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>The Lord’s servant must ''not be quarrelsome'' but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will. (2 Timothy 2:24–26)</blockquote><br />
<br />
We see the difficulty of the task. Pastors cannot run from conflict, nor can they be too eager to fight. Kindness, patience, and gentleness must accompany the willingness to engage, exhort, admonish, and rebuke. How does one thread the needle? What truths help Christian pastors and leaders engage in conflict willingly, without relishing the next quarrel? Consider three foundational beliefs for those who seek to serve in conflict.<br />
<br />
'''1. Humbly remember this is God’s church.'''<br />
<br />
First, remember that the church is not yours. Moses models this humble attitude. After the exodus, God’s anger is stirred up against Israel’s idolatrous worship of the golden calf. What does Moses do? He intercedes by reminding God “that this nation is ''your people''” (Exodus 33:13). Moses makes clear that Israel isn’t ''his'' people, but God’s. He models humble dependence upon God to work among his people for their good.<br />
<br />
The parallel for pastors is this: humbly remember that the church is ''Christ’s church''. When conflict comes, spiritual leaders are wise to resist the urge to fix things in their own strength and wisdom. Jesus is sanctifying ''his'' church. He is eager to give his help, his wisdom, and his grace for the good of ''his'' church. Pastors are also wise to remember they, and their churches, are being sanctified. Lessons remain to be learned; grace remains to be given; more wisdom is yet to be bestowed. God works in and through conflict for the good of his people. Remember, Jesus is the master carpenter, crafting his ultimate creation, the glorious church of God.<br />
<br />
Pastors, pray like King Solomon as he faced the daunting task of leading God’s people:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Now, O Lord my God, you have made your servant king in place of David my father, although I am but a little child. I do not know how to go out or come in. . . . Give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, that I may discern between good and evil, for who is able to govern this your great people? (1 Kings 3:7, 9)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Humbly pray for discernment to lead the great people of God. Ask for wisdom from the God who gives generously and lavishly, for the benefit of his church (James 1:5).<br />
<br />
'''2. Humbly remember Christ’s example.'''<br />
<br />
Second, emulate Christ’s example of selflessness and sacrifice. Pastors are undershepherds who take cues from the chief Shepherd himself. And Jesus “emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. . . . He humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:7–8). All believers, and especially leaders, are called to imitate his humility, servanthood, and sacrifice.<br />
<br />
Selfish ambition, conceit, envy, and rivalry have no place in the church, much less among the church’s leaders. Some of the strongest condemnations in Scripture are against the self-serving shepherds of Ezekiel 34. God’s people were scattered, devoured, and preyed upon by Israel’s shepherds. Nothing will undermine leadership more quickly than selfishness and a lack of humility. God’s servants must indeed be ''servants'', humbly obeying the master. Pastors are to “share in suffering as a good soldier of Christ Jesus” (2 Timothy 2:3). We pastors serve at the pleasure of the King. We are under authority. When armed with the mind of Christ, pastors are able to maintain the unity of the Spirit, outdo one another in honor, and “reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching” (2 Timothy 4:2).<br />
<br />
As pastors, we put aside personal preferences and opinions, and seek to serve as Christ would have us, exhibiting his selflessness and patience. We eagerly and humbly embrace the role of ''servant'' as undershepherds of Christ.<br />
<br />
'''3. Humbly speak the truth in love.'''<br />
<br />
Finally, speak the truth in love. Godly pastors exhibit an unswerving commitment to truthfulness that is honed and shaped by a deep, abiding love for God’s people. They cultivate Paul-like love, yearning for their people with the affection of Christ Jesus (Philippians 1:8). Their words build up rather than tear down; their speech is loving. What they say, even while admonishing, is infused with gentleness and care. Their teaching has the essence of love coupled with the unflinching truth.<br />
<br />
It’s here that many a pastor has gone astray. The temptation to appease, placate, and quell conflict and tension is great. Yet, undershepherds’ words are to be “gracious, seasoned with salt,” never lies or half-truths masquerading as graciousness (Colossians 4:6). Pastors are to “set the believers an example in speech” (1 Timothy 4:12). With Paul, pastors renounce all the disgraceful, underhanded ways of the world (2 Corinthians 4:2).<br />
<br />
Candid speech sheds light, rather than obscuring. So, pastors stubbornly let their yes be yes and their no be no (James 5:12). We seek to be tenaciously true to our words. We labor not to undermine the trust we have been given by God to be heralds of the great truth of the gospel. We resist any temptation to mollify critics by modifying the truth. Instead, we refuse to tamper with the truth, but proclaim the truth in love so that the church might grow up into Christ (Ephesians 4:15).<br />
<br />
'''Hope in God Who Is Working'''<br />
<br />
In the midst of choppy waters, remember God’s promise to his servants and to his people. God promises undershepherds a glorious reward: “When the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory” (1 Peter 5:4). Conflict and criticism will never be easy, but the pains and labors will be small compared to the surpassing worth of knowing Christ.<br />
<br />
Similarly, God promises his people that he will complete the good work he has begun (Philippians 1:6). The church is being sanctified so that it will be pure and blameless for the day of Christ. Hold onto that promise as a raft of hope as you dive into the choppy waters for the good of Christ’s church.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/How_Can_a_Holy_God_Have_Pleasure_in_Sinners%3FHow Can a Holy God Have Pleasure in Sinners?2022-11-21T02:11:35Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "How Can a Holy God Have Pleasure in Sinners?" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Godward Life Conference'''<br />
<br />
I want to begin with a story that I hope encourages the younger people among us, putting within you a passion to do something significant with your life for the glory of God — and to do it soon, while you are young. Because you may never be old.<br />
<br />
The theme of this first Godward Life Conference — the pleasures of God — has its roots first in the Bible, because of how many times God tells us what pleases him. But its roots are also in the life of a pastor and professor in Scotland who died in 1678. His name was Henry Scougal, and he died when he was 27 years old. I draw attention to his age because he was so young when he died, and yet the impact of his life has been amazing.<br />
<br />
He wrote one lasting work, ''The Life of God in the Soul of Man'', but he didn’t write it as a book. He wrote it as a long letter to friend — a 100-page letter that begins, “My dear friend.” That friend began to circulate the letter, and it proved so powerful in the lives of others that Gilbert Burnet published it the year that Scougal died. It has been serving the church for over three hundred years now.<br />
<br />
Scougal wasn’t the only person who lived a short but hugely significant life:<br />
<br />
*David Brainerd, the missionary to American Indians, died in 1747 at the age of 29, and his journals shaped the early modern missionary movement.<br />
*Henry Martyn, a missionary to India and Persia, died in 1812 when he was 31, his memoirs inspiring generations to this day.<br />
*Robert Murray M’Cheyne, a Scottish pastor whose Bible reading program we are still using today, died in 1843 at the age of 29.<br />
*Jim Elliot, missionary to the Huaorani people of Ecuador, was matyred alondside four other men in 1956 at the age of 28. In fact, all five of the martyrs that day were under 33.<br />
And to broaden out the lens: Alexander the Great died at 33. Martin Luther King Jr. at 39. Mozart at 35. Emily Brontë at 30. John Keats at 26. Anne Frank at 15.<br />
<br />
May God give you a passion, young people, to make your lives count for the glory of God — and to do it soon, while you are young. Because you may never be old.<br />
<br />
And if you are old like me, or somewhere in between, pray like I do: “God, make every remaining day count.” If you have seventy years in front of you, don’t waste it, even now in your teen years. And if you have seventy years behind you, don’t waste what’s left. One of the reasons for creating this new fall conference as an intergenerational conference is to share some of the passions of this school with those who might come to the school and with those who, like me, wish we could sit in on every class.<br />
<br />
'''What Makes a Soul Excellent?'''<br />
<br />
But back to Henry Scougal and the theme of this first Godward Life Conference, the pleasures of God. One sentence in his long letter has shaped this theme. He wrote, “The worth and excellency of a soul is to be measured by the object of its love.”<br />
<br />
You can see into the excellence of a soul by what that soul loves. And by “loves,” he doesn’t mean merciful love for what is unlovely; he means the love we have for what delights us and gives us pleasure. He says, “The most ravishing pleasures, the most solid and substantial delights that human nature is capable of, are those which arise from the endearments of a well-placed and successful affection.” That’s what he’s talking about when he says, “The worth and excellency of a soul is to be measured by the object of its love,” by its well-placed affection.<br />
<br />
Now Scougal said that about the human soul — how to see the excellence of a human soul. But what struck me in 1987 was that this is also true of God. We can see into the worth and excellency of God himself if he reveals to us the object of his well-placed affections — his solid and substantial delights and pleasures.<br />
<br />
In other words, this first conference theme is rooted in one of the passions of Bethlehem College and Seminary. Namely, we want to know God. We want to know what is great and beautiful and excellent and worthy about God, because you can’t enjoy God or love God or trust God or honor God if you don’t know him. If you don’t really know what he is like.<br />
<br />
So Henry Scougal gave us a fresh pathway into the knowledge of God. We might say, ''The worth and excellency of God is to be measured by the object of his love — his delight, his pleasures.''<br />
<br />
'''God’s Pleasure in His People'''<br />
<br />
My assignment under this theme is to think with you about God’s pleasures in human responses — that is, our responses to God in what he is and says and does. Or to say it another way: Does God take pleasure in his people, in who we are and what we do?<br />
<br />
The biblical answer is plainly ''yes'':<br />
<br />
*Isaiah 62:4–5: “You shall no more be termed Forsaken . . . you shall be called My Delight Is in Her, and your land Married; for the Lord delights in you . . . as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you.”<br />
*Zephaniah 3:17: “The Lord your God . . . will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.”<br />
*Colossians 1:9–10: “We have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you might . . . walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him: bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God.”<br />
*2 Corinthians 5:9: “So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him.”<br />
*Philippians 4:18: “I am well supplied, having received from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent, a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God.”<br />
*Hebrews 13:16: “Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.”<br />
So, the answer is yes. God can and does take pleasure in his people — in who they are and what they do. As C. S. Lewis puts it in the ''Weight of Glory'': “To please God . . . to be a real ingredient in the divine happiness . . . to be loved by God, not merely pitied, but delighted in as an artist delights in his work or a father in a son — it seems impossible, a weight or burden of glory which our thoughts can hardly sustain. But so it is.”<br />
<br />
'''Deserving of Displeasure'''<br />
<br />
Now the question becomes, How can this be? “You are of purer eyes than to see evil and cannot look at wrong” (Habakkuk 1:13). But all human beings are sinners. Paul writes:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Both Jews and Greeks, are under sin, as it is written: “None is righteous, no, not one; . . . Now we know that whatever the law says it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God. For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin. (Romans 3:9–10, 19–20)</blockquote><br />
<br />
That means, Paul says, that by virtue of our sinful nature, human beings are not children of God. They are children of wrath. He adds in Ephesians 2:1–3: “You were . . . following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience — among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.”<br />
<br />
All mankind are children of wrath. The ''wrath'' of God — not the pleasure of God, but the ''displeasure'' of God — is coming to us like the inheritance of a parent comes naturally to a child: “Children of wrath.” Or as Jesus put it, “Whoever does not obey the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God remains on him” (John 3:36). ''Remains''. It was ours by nature. And without rescue it remains — forever (Revelation 14:10–11).<br />
<br />
So how can it be that there would ever be a people in whom God could delight, a people in whom he would feel pleasure, rather than the displeasure of wrath? How can that be? And if there were a way that it could be, that God could actually be pleased with sinners, how could he then be holy and righteous? It’s one thing to be merciful to the unlovely; it’s another thing to delight in the ungodly.<br />
<br />
'''Called to Life by Christ'''<br />
<br />
Christianity exists, the church exists, Bethlehem College & Seminary exists, because God answered this greatest of all problems with Christ.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person — though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die — but ''God shows his love for us'' in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. (Romans 5:6–9)</blockquote><br />
<br />
That is the greatest event and the most glorious news in all the world: “Having been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from wrath.” God’s love in Christ saved us from God’s wrath. God saved us from God. “He did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all” (Romans 8:32). Who then is not under the wrath of God? Answer: All who are justified. “Having been justified by his blood, much more shall be saved by him from wrath.”<br />
<br />
And who are the justified? Romans 8:30: “Those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.” All those who are predestined to be God’s sons are called. All the called are justified, which means that all the called are brought to faith, because only by faith is anyone justified. Romans 5:1: “[Having] been justified ''by faith'', we have peace with God.” Therefore, all the called believe.<br />
<br />
That is what the call of God does — it creates life and faith. Therefore, we may fill out Romans 8:30 like this: “Those whom he predestined he called, and those whom he called believed, and those who believed he justified, and those whom he justified he glorified.” It is so sure that it is as though the whole process is finished.<br />
<br />
'''Double Imputation'''<br />
<br />
So the foundational key to how sinners can please God and become an actual ingredient in the divine happiness is justification in Christ by faith. How can that be? Justification includes two things. In union with Jesus Christ, it includes the forgiveness of sins and the imputation of God’s righteousness.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>And to the one who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness, just as David also speaks of the blessing of the one to whom God counts righteousness apart from works: “Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven, and whose sins are covered; blessed is the man against whom the Lord will not count his sin.” (Romans 4:5–8)</blockquote><br />
<br />
In Christ, first, the sins of all who believe are nailed to the cross (Colossians 2:14). They are punished, condemned (Romans 8:3). By trusting Jesus, by embracing him as our treasured Savior, we receive forgiveness because of that once-for-all transaction on the cross. That’s one aspect of justification: our sins are not reckoned against us. They were laid on Jesus. “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree” (1 Peter 2:24).<br />
<br />
The other aspect of justification is that God reckoned his own righteousness in Christ to be ours. He counted us righteous in union with Christ. As Paul says, “I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith” (Philippians 3:8–9).<br />
<br />
Or as he says in Romans 5:19, comparing Adam’s disobedience and Christ’s obedience: “As by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.” Or once more in 2 Corinthians 5:21: “For our sake [God] made [Christ] to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”<br />
<br />
'''By Grace Through Faith'''<br />
<br />
In sum, then, God’s love rescues us from God’s wrath by giving his only Son as a substitute for us. By Christ’s perfect obedience unto death, he bore our sins, and he provided perfect righteousness, which is then ''imputed'' to us — counted as ours — in justification.<br />
<br />
Christ alone is the sole ground, foundation, basis of our justification. We do not add anything to his justifying suffering and death. We do not add anything to his justifying righteousness. None of our deeds, none of our thoughts, none of our feelings add anything to the righteousness that God takes into account as the basis of our justification. It is all Christ’s. God is one hundred percent for us forever because of justification.<br />
<br />
Our forgiveness and our imputed righteousness, to use the words of Paul in Romans 3:24–25, are “by his grace as a gift . . . to be received by faith.” Faith is not part of justifying righteousness. Faith ''receives'' forgiveness, and faith ''receives'' righteousness — because faith receives Christ. Faith welcomes Christ, embraces Christ, as a supremely treasured Savior and Lord.<br />
<br />
So! Does God now look upon us with delight, pleasure? Are justified sinners in this life pleasing to God, even before the final sin-obliterating glorification? Yes. God said when he looked upon Christ at his baptism and at his transfiguration, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am ''well pleased''.” (Matthew 3:17; Matthew 17:5). To put it another way: “I have much pleasure in beholding my Son.” Therefore, since we are united with Christ, and counted as righteousness with his righteousness, we are God’s treasured, loved, delighted-in children.<br />
<br />
'''Perfected, Loved, and Disciplined'''<br />
<br />
But you say, I still sin. Is he not displeased with my sin? Yes, he is. But this does not cancel out his delight in you, as you are in Christ. Consider these words, which the writer to the Hebrews quotes in Hebrews 12:5–6 from Proverbs 3:11–12:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,<br><br />
nor be weary when reproved by him.<br><br />
For the Lord disciplines the one he loves,<br><br />
and chastises every son whom he receives.</blockquote><br />
<br />
In the very act of disciplining his son for displeasing behavior, he has never lost his delight in his son. So when you experience suffering as the child of God, remember two things about God’s treatment of you.<br />
<br />
#My Father disapproves of the remaining corruption in me and is loving me enough to refine my faith and my holiness through discipline.<br />
#My Father is doing this discipline on the unshakeable, unchangeable basis that I am totally forgiven for all my sins, all my displeasing behavior, and totally righteous in Christ, and totally pleasing before my Father, as he sees me in union with his perfect Son Jesus.<br />
Now that may appear to you as a paradox, that God would discipline those whom he regards in Christ as perfect. But listen to Hebrews 10:14: “By a single offering [Christ] has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified.” Our perfection, in one sense, is finished. “By a single offering he has perfected [us] for all time . . .” God sees us as perfected in our union with Christ, forgiven, justified.<br />
<br />
But in another sense, we are not yet sinlessly perfect. He has perfected ''those who are being now, little by little, sanctified — gradually made holy''. We know this all too well. In our daily, earthly lives we are embattled and imperfect.<br />
<br />
And the absolutely crucial essence of Christian ethics, which sets Christianity apart from all other religions, is that we pursue our daily, earthly holiness precisely on the basis that we are ''already'' holy. We pursue daily, earthly righteousness on the basis that we are ''already'' righteous. That’s why Paul says things like, “Cleanse out the old leaven . . . as you really are unleavened” (1 Corinthians 5:7). And we seek to please God in daily life because we are already perfectly pleasing to God in Christ.<br />
<br />
'''God’s Pleasure in Our Daily Lives'''<br />
<br />
Can we succeed? That’s our one last question, and we ask it to the Lord.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Father, with profound thankfulness in my heart for what Christ did in dying for me, and for bringing me to faith in him, and for the forgiveness of all my sins, and the imputation of his perfect righteousness to me, so that in him I am pleasing in your sight — with profound thankfulness for all that glorious gospel reality, I now ask you, Can I in my daily life on this earth please you by the way I think and feel and act? Can my thinking and feeling and acting become an ingredient in your pleasure?</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>Father, I am not asking that you replace Christ’s obedience with my obedience as the basis of my justification. God forbid! I’m not asking that my imperfect growth in holiness replace Christ’s perfect holiness as the basis of your being one hundred percent for me. I’m taking my stand there and asking: Can you find pleasure in my imperfect efforts to think and feel and act in holiness, in love, in justice?</blockquote><br />
<br />
God’s answer to this question in the Bible is ''yes''.<br />
<br />
*Paul prays for the Colossian Christians, “[May] you walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him: bearing fruit in every good work” (Colossians 1:10).<br />
*He says to the Philippians, “The gifts you sent, [are] a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God” (Philippians 4:18).<br />
*He says to the Corinthians, “Whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him” (2 Corinthians 5:9).<br />
*He urges the Ephesians, “Try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord” (Ephesians 5:10).<br />
It is possible for imperfect, justified sinners to please God — to be an ingredient in the divine pleasure — not only by union with Christ in justification, but also by depending on Christ in sanctification — in transformation. Not only because we stand perfected in his righteousness, but also because he empowers us for our righteousness.<br />
<br />
'''Six Pieces in Paul'''<br />
<br />
Why is that the case? How can the all-holy, perfect God be pleased with my imperfect thoughts and feelings and actions as a Christian? The answer is found in two amazing verses in 2 Thessalonians. There are six pieces to the answer. I’ll point them out as I read it:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling [which would be pleasing in his sight] and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ. (2 Thessalonians 1:11–12)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Let’s put the pieces together.<br />
<br />
#First, at the bottom, at the root, of our action, our work, our behavior, is the ''grace'' of God and of Christ. Grace — absolutely unearned, undeserved favor.<br />
#That grace is manifest in God’s ''power'' in us for good works.<br />
#We experience that power in us by ''faith''. We look away from ourselves. We admit we can do nothing without him. We look to grace. And we embrace grace. And we trust grace as our treasured hope for holiness.<br />
#In that faith ''we'' do ''good works''. We do righteousness. We do mercy. We do love. We do justice. Paul calls these “works of faith,” and in other places he calls them “obedience of faith.”<br />
#Jesus gets the ''glory'' for our works of faith because his grace and his power were decisive in bringing about the works of faith.<br />
#In this way you walk worthily of your calling, so that your walk, your behavior, is ''pleasing'' to God.<br />
I’ll read it again:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling [which would be pleasing in his sight] and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.</blockquote><br />
<br />
In short, God is pleased with our works of faith because they are his works of power — of grace. Or to say it another way, God is pleased with our works done in dependence on his grace, because then his grace gets the glory. The giver gets the glory. And that’s the reason he created the world — for “the praise of the glory of his grace” (Ephesians 1:6).<br />
<br />
'''Repeated in Hebrews'''<br />
<br />
Here’s the way the writer to the Hebrews makes the same point with the same six pieces:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Now may the God of peace . . . equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in us that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen. (Hebrews 13:20–21)</blockquote><br />
<br />
#At the bottom is Jesus Christ, with his sovereign grace: “Through Jesus Christ.”<br />
#He works in us. That is, his grace is manifest as power in our lives for good works.<br />
#We do his will by that power.<br />
#Jesus gets the glory.<br />
#So, our obedience is pleasing in God’s sight.<br />
And the piece that was not mentioned from 2 Thessalonians is the link between God’s power and our obedience, namely, faith. But the writer had already made crystal clear in Hebrews 11:6 how essential faith is for obeying and pleasing God: “Without faith it is impossible to please God.”<br />
<br />
'''Pardoned and Empowered to Please'''<br />
<br />
In summary, then, the same faith that unites us to the pardon of Christ for justification, unites us to the power of Christ for sanctification. The same faith that makes us ''perfectly pleasing'' to God by the imputation of his righteousness, makes us ''progressively pleasing'' to God by our righteousness.<br />
<br />
You will not be perfect in this life. But you can be pleasing to God in this life — perfectly pleasing because of justification, and progressively pleasing because of transformation. You can become, beyond all expectation, an ingredient in the divine pleasure.<br />
<br />
The glory of God in Jesus Christ overflowing in grace is God’s supreme delight. When we embrace the grace of God in Christ as our only hope for imputation and transformation, he is pleased. Or as we like to say here at Bethlehem College & Seminary, we are his pleasure when he is our treasure.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/How_Can_a_Holy_God_Have_Pleasure_in_Sinners%3FHow Can a Holy God Have Pleasure in Sinners?2022-11-21T02:10:29Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''Godward Life Conference''' I want to begin with a story that I hope encourages the younger people among us, putting within you a passion to do something significant w...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Godward Life Conference'''<br />
<br />
I want to begin with a story that I hope encourages the younger people among us, putting within you a passion to do something significant with your life for the glory of God — and to do it soon, while you are young. Because you may never be old.<br />
<br />
The theme of this first Godward Life Conference — the pleasures of God — has its roots first in the Bible, because of how many times God tells us what pleases him. But its roots are also in the life of a pastor and professor in Scotland who died in 1678. His name was Henry Scougal, and he died when he was 27 years old. I draw attention to his age because he was so young when he died, and yet the impact of his life has been amazing.<br />
<br />
He wrote one lasting work, ''The Life of God in the Soul of Man'', but he didn’t write it as a book. He wrote it as a long letter to friend — a 100-page letter that begins, “My dear friend.” That friend began to circulate the letter, and it proved so powerful in the lives of others that Gilbert Burnet published it the year that Scougal died. It has been serving the church for over three hundred years now.<br />
<br />
Scougal wasn’t the only person who lived a short but hugely significant life:<br />
<br />
*David Brainerd, the missionary to American Indians, died in 1747 at the age of 29, and his journals shaped the early modern missionary movement.<br />
*Henry Martyn, a missionary to India and Persia, died in 1812 when he was 31, his memoirs inspiring generations to this day.<br />
*Robert Murray M’Cheyne, a Scottish pastor whose Bible reading program we are still using today, died in 1843 at the age of 29.<br />
*Jim Elliot, missionary to the Huaorani people of Ecuador, was matyred alondside four other men in 1956 at the age of 28. In fact, all five of the martyrs that day were under 33.<br />
And to broaden out the lens: Alexander the Great died at 33. Martin Luther King Jr. at 39. Mozart at 35. Emily Brontë at 30. John Keats at 26. Anne Frank at 15.<br />
<br />
May God give you a passion, young people, to make your lives count for the glory of God — and to do it soon, while you are young. Because you may never be old.<br />
<br />
And if you are old like me, or somewhere in between, pray like I do: “God, make every remaining day count.” If you have seventy years in front of you, don’t waste it, even now in your teen years. And if you have seventy years behind you, don’t waste what’s left. One of the reasons for creating this new fall conference as an intergenerational conference is to share some of the passions of this school with those who might come to the school and with those who, like me, wish we could sit in on every class.<br />
<br />
'''What Makes a Soul Excellent?'''<br />
<br />
But back to Henry Scougal and the theme of this first Godward Life Conference, the pleasures of God. One sentence in his long letter has shaped this theme. He wrote, “The worth and excellency of a soul is to be measured by the object of its love.”<br />
<br />
You can see into the excellence of a soul by what that soul loves. And by “loves,” he doesn’t mean merciful love for what is unlovely; he means the love we have for what delights us and gives us pleasure. He says, “The most ravishing pleasures, the most solid and substantial delights that human nature is capable of, are those which arise from the endearments of a well-placed and successful affection.” That’s what he’s talking about when he says, “The worth and excellency of a soul is to be measured by the object of its love,” by its well-placed affection.<br />
<br />
Now Scougal said that about the human soul — how to see the excellence of a human soul. But what struck me in 1987 was that this is also true of God. We can see into the worth and excellency of God himself if he reveals to us the object of his well-placed affections — his solid and substantial delights and pleasures.<br />
<br />
In other words, this first conference theme is rooted in one of the passions of Bethlehem College and Seminary. Namely, we want to know God. We want to know what is great and beautiful and excellent and worthy about God, because you can’t enjoy God or love God or trust God or honor God if you don’t know him. If you don’t really know what he is like.<br />
<br />
So Henry Scougal gave us a fresh pathway into the knowledge of God. We might say, ''The worth and excellency of God is to be measured by the object of his love — his delight, his pleasures.''<br />
<br />
'''God’s Pleasure in His People'''<br />
<br />
My assignment under this theme is to think with you about God’s pleasures in human responses — that is, our responses to God in what he is and says and does. Or to say it another way: Does God take pleasure in his people, in who we are and what we do?<br />
<br />
The biblical answer is plainly ''yes'':<br />
<br />
*Isaiah 62:4–5: “You shall no more be termed Forsaken . . . you shall be called My Delight Is in Her, and your land Married; for the Lord delights in you . . . as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you.”<br />
*Zephaniah 3:17: “The Lord your God . . . will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.”<br />
*Colossians 1:9–10: “We have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you might . . . walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him: bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God.”<br />
*2 Corinthians 5:9: “So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him.”<br />
*Philippians 4:18: “I am well supplied, having received from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent, a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God.”<br />
*Hebrews 13:16: “Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.”<br />
So, the answer is yes. God can and does take pleasure in his people — in who they are and what they do. As C. S. Lewis puts it in the ''Weight of Glory'': “To please God . . . to be a real ingredient in the divine happiness . . . to be loved by God, not merely pitied, but delighted in as an artist delights in his work or a father in a son — it seems impossible, a weight or burden of glory which our thoughts can hardly sustain. But so it is.”<br />
<br />
'''Deserving of Displeasure'''<br />
<br />
Now the question becomes, How can this be? “You are of purer eyes than to see evil and cannot look at wrong” (Habakkuk 1:13). But all human beings are sinners. Paul writes:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Both Jews and Greeks, are under sin, as it is written: “None is righteous, no, not one; . . . Now we know that whatever the law says it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God. For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin. (Romans 3:9–10, 19–20)</blockquote><br />
<br />
That means, Paul says, that by virtue of our sinful nature, human beings are not children of God. They are children of wrath. He adds in Ephesians 2:1–3: “You were . . . following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience — among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.”<br />
<br />
All mankind are children of wrath. The ''wrath'' of God — not the pleasure of God, but the ''displeasure'' of God — is coming to us like the inheritance of a parent comes naturally to a child: “Children of wrath.” Or as Jesus put it, “Whoever does not obey the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God remains on him” (John 3:36). ''Remains''. It was ours by nature. And without rescue it remains — forever (Revelation 14:10–11).<br />
<br />
So how can it be that there would ever be a people in whom God could delight, a people in whom he would feel pleasure, rather than the displeasure of wrath? How can that be? And if there were a way that it could be, that God could actually be pleased with sinners, how could he then be holy and righteous? It’s one thing to be merciful to the unlovely; it’s another thing to delight in the ungodly.<br />
<br />
'''Called to Life by Christ'''<br />
<br />
Christianity exists, the church exists, Bethlehem College & Seminary exists, because God answered this greatest of all problems with Christ.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person — though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die — but ''God shows his love for us'' in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. (Romans 5:6–9)</blockquote><br />
<br />
That is the greatest event and the most glorious news in all the world: “Having been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from wrath.” God’s love in Christ saved us from God’s wrath. God saved us from God. “He did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all” (Romans 8:32). Who then is not under the wrath of God? Answer: All who are justified. “Having been justified by his blood, much more shall be saved by him from wrath.”<br />
<br />
And who are the justified? Romans 8:30: “Those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.” All those who are predestined to be God’s sons are called. All the called are justified, which means that all the called are brought to faith, because only by faith is anyone justified. Romans 5:1: “[Having] been justified ''by faith'', we have peace with God.” Therefore, all the called believe.<br />
<br />
That is what the call of God does — it creates life and faith. Therefore, we may fill out Romans 8:30 like this: “Those whom he predestined he called, and those whom he called believed, and those who believed he justified, and those whom he justified he glorified.” It is so sure that it is as though the whole process is finished.<br />
<br />
'''Double Imputation'''<br />
<br />
So the foundational key to how sinners can please God and become an actual ingredient in the divine happiness is justification in Christ by faith. How can that be? Justification includes two things. In union with Jesus Christ, it includes the forgiveness of sins and the imputation of God’s righteousness.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>And to the one who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness, just as David also speaks of the blessing of the one to whom God counts righteousness apart from works: “Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven, and whose sins are covered; blessed is the man against whom the Lord will not count his sin.” (Romans 4:5–8)</blockquote><br />
<br />
In Christ, first, the sins of all who believe are nailed to the cross (Colossians 2:14). They are punished, condemned (Romans 8:3). By trusting Jesus, by embracing him as our treasured Savior, we receive forgiveness because of that once-for-all transaction on the cross. That’s one aspect of justification: our sins are not reckoned against us. They were laid on Jesus. “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree” (1 Peter 2:24).<br />
<br />
The other aspect of justification is that God reckoned his own righteousness in Christ to be ours. He counted us righteous in union with Christ. As Paul says, “I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith” (Philippians 3:8–9).<br />
<br />
Or as he says in Romans 5:19, comparing Adam’s disobedience and Christ’s obedience: “As by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.” Or once more in 2 Corinthians 5:21: “For our sake [God] made [Christ] to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”<br />
<br />
'''By Grace Through Faith'''<br />
<br />
In sum, then, God’s love rescues us from God’s wrath by giving his only Son as a substitute for us. By Christ’s perfect obedience unto death, he bore our sins, and he provided perfect righteousness, which is then ''imputed'' to us — counted as ours — in justification.<br />
<br />
Christ alone is the sole ground, foundation, basis of our justification. We do not add anything to his justifying suffering and death. We do not add anything to his justifying righteousness. None of our deeds, none of our thoughts, none of our feelings add anything to the righteousness that God takes into account as the basis of our justification. It is all Christ’s. God is one hundred percent for us forever because of justification.<br />
<br />
Our forgiveness and our imputed righteousness, to use the words of Paul in Romans 3:24–25, are “by his grace as a gift . . . to be received by faith.” Faith is not part of justifying righteousness. Faith ''receives'' forgiveness, and faith ''receives'' righteousness — because faith receives Christ. Faith welcomes Christ, embraces Christ, as a supremely treasured Savior and Lord.<br />
<br />
So! Does God now look upon us with delight, pleasure? Are justified sinners in this life pleasing to God, even before the final sin-obliterating glorification? Yes. God said when he looked upon Christ at his baptism and at his transfiguration, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am ''well pleased''.” (Matthew 3:17; Matthew 17:5). To put it another way: “I have much pleasure in beholding my Son.” Therefore, since we are united with Christ, and counted as righteousness with his righteousness, we are God’s treasured, loved, delighted-in children.<br />
<br />
'''Perfected, Loved, and Disciplined'''<br />
<br />
But you say, I still sin. Is he not displeased with my sin? Yes, he is. But this does not cancel out his delight in you, as you are in Christ. Consider these words, which the writer to the Hebrews quotes in Hebrews 12:5–6 from Proverbs 3:11–12:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,<br><br />
nor be weary when reproved by him.<br><br />
For the Lord disciplines the one he loves,<br><br />
and chastises every son whom he receives.</blockquote><br />
<br />
In the very act of disciplining his son for displeasing behavior, he has never lost his delight in his son. So when you experience suffering as the child of God, remember two things about God’s treatment of you.<br />
<br />
#My Father disapproves of the remaining corruption in me and is loving me enough to refine my faith and my holiness through discipline.<br />
#My Father is doing this discipline on the unshakeable, unchangeable basis that I am totally forgiven for all my sins, all my displeasing behavior, and totally righteous in Christ, and totally pleasing before my Father, as he sees me in union with his perfect Son Jesus.<br />
Now that may appear to you as a paradox, that God would discipline those whom he regards in Christ as perfect. But listen to Hebrews 10:14: “By a single offering [Christ] has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified.” Our perfection, in one sense, is finished. “By a single offering he has perfected [us] for all time . . .” God sees us as perfected in our union with Christ, forgiven, justified.<br />
<br />
But in another sense, we are not yet sinlessly perfect. He has perfected ''those who are being now, little by little, sanctified — gradually made holy''. We know this all too well. In our daily, earthly lives we are embattled and imperfect.<br />
<br />
And the absolutely crucial essence of Christian ethics, which sets Christianity apart from all other religions, is that we pursue our daily, earthly holiness precisely on the basis that we are ''already'' holy. We pursue daily, earthly righteousness on the basis that we are ''already'' righteous. That’s why Paul says things like, “Cleanse out the old leaven . . . as you really are unleavened” (1 Corinthians 5:7). And we seek to please God in daily life because we are already perfectly pleasing to God in Christ.<br />
<br />
'''God’s Pleasure in Our Daily Lives'''<br />
<br />
Can we succeed? That’s our one last question, and we ask it to the Lord.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Father, with profound thankfulness in my heart for what Christ did in dying for me, and for bringing me to faith in him, and for the forgiveness of all my sins, and the imputation of his perfect righteousness to me, so that in him I am pleasing in your sight — with profound thankfulness for all that glorious gospel reality, I now ask you, Can I in my daily life on this earth please you by the way I think and feel and act? Can my thinking and feeling and acting become an ingredient in your pleasure?</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>Father, I am not asking that you replace Christ’s obedience with my obedience as the basis of my justification. God forbid! I’m not asking that my imperfect growth in holiness replace Christ’s perfect holiness as the basis of your being one hundred percent for me. I’m taking my stand there and asking: Can you find pleasure in my imperfect efforts to think and feel and act in holiness, in love, in justice?</blockquote><br />
<br />
God’s answer to this question in the Bible is ''yes''.<br />
<br />
*Paul prays for the Colossian Christians, “[May] you walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him: bearing fruit in every good work” (Colossians 1:10).<br />
*He says to the Philippians, “The gifts you sent, [are] a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God” (Philippians 4:18).<br />
*He says to the Corinthians, “Whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him” (2 Corinthians 5:9).<br />
*He urges the Ephesians, “Try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord” (Ephesians 5:10).<br />
It is possible for imperfect, justified sinners to please God — to be an ingredient in the divine pleasure — not only by union with Christ in justification, but also by depending on Christ in sanctification — in transformation. Not only because we stand perfected in his righteousness, but also because he empowers us for our righteousness.<br />
<br />
'''Six Pieces in Paul'''<br />
<br />
Why is that the case? How can the all-holy, perfect God be pleased with my imperfect thoughts and feelings and actions as a Christian? The answer is found in two amazing verses in 2 Thessalonians. There are six pieces to the answer. I’ll point them out as I read it:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling [which would be pleasing in his sight] and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ. (2 Thessalonians 1:11–12)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Let’s put the pieces together.<br />
<br />
#First, at the bottom, at the root, of our action, our work, our behavior, is the ''grace'' of God and of Christ. Grace — absolutely unearned, undeserved favor.<br />
#That grace is manifest in God’s ''power'' in us for good works.<br />
#We experience that power in us by ''faith''. We look away from ourselves. We admit we can do nothing without him. We look to grace. And we embrace grace. And we trust grace as our treasured hope for holiness.<br />
#In that faith ''we'' do ''good works''. We do righteousness. We do mercy. We do love. We do justice. Paul calls these “works of faith,” and in other places he calls them “obedience of faith.”<br />
#Jesus gets the ''glory'' for our works of faith because his grace and his power were decisive in bringing about the works of faith.<br />
#In this way you walk worthily of your calling, so that your walk, your behavior, is ''pleasing'' to God.<br />
I’ll read it again:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling [which would be pleasing in his sight] and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.</blockquote><br />
<br />
In short, God is pleased with our works of faith because they are his works of power — of grace. Or to say it another way, God is pleased with our works done in dependence on his grace, because then his grace gets the glory. The giver gets the glory. And that’s the reason he created the world — for “the praise of the glory of his grace” (Ephesians 1:6).<br />
<br />
'''Repeated in Hebrews'''<br />
<br />
Here’s the way the writer to the Hebrews makes the same point with the same six pieces:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Now may the God of peace . . . equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in us that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen. (Hebrews 13:20–21)</blockquote><br />
<br />
#At the bottom is Jesus Christ, with his sovereign grace: “Through Jesus Christ.”<br />
#He works in us. That is, his grace is manifest as power in our lives for good works.<br />
#We do his will by that power.<br />
#Jesus gets the glory.<br />
#So, our obedience is pleasing in God’s sight.<br />
And the piece that was not mentioned from 2 Thessalonians is the link between God’s power and our obedience, namely, faith. But the writer had already made crystal clear in Hebrews 11:6 how essential faith is for obeying and pleasing God: “Without faith it is impossible to please God.”<br />
<br />
'''Pardoned and Empowered to Please'''<br />
<br />
In summary, then, the same faith that unites us to the pardon of Christ for justification, unites us to the power of Christ for sanctification. The same faith that makes us ''perfectly pleasing'' to God by the imputation of his righteousness, makes us ''progressively pleasing'' to God by our righteousness.<br />
<br />
You will not be perfect in this life. But you can be pleasing to God in this life — perfectly pleasing because of justification, and progressively pleasing because of transformation. You can become, beyond all expectation, an ingredient in the divine pleasure.<br />
<br />
The glory of God in Jesus Christ overflowing in grace is God’s supreme delight. When we embrace the grace of God in Christ as our only hope for imputation and transformation, he is pleased. Or as we like to say here at Bethlehem College & Seminary, we are his pleasure when he is our treasure.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Lead_Me,_O_LordLead Me, O Lord2022-11-21T01:45:10Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "Lead Me, O Lord" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Ten Prayers for Christian Leaders'''<br />
<br />
''Pastor'' is a strange and difficult calling. It’s strange because, to use the biblical metaphor, a pastor is a sheep to whom the Great Shepherd has entrusted certain shepherding responsibilities within a particular “flock of God” (1 Peter 5:2) — he’s a shepherding sheep. And it’s difficult because, in addition to carrying out his demanding shepherding responsibilities, he himself needs to be led by the Great Shepherd as much any other Christian. Indeed, he is to set an example of following for his fellow sheep (1 Peter 5:3).<br />
<br />
In other words, a pastor is a ''lead follower'', which puts the emphasis of his calling in the right places. He’s first and foremost a ''follower'' of Jesus, the Great Shepherd, like any other sheep. Lead describes not his exalted status or unquestionable spiritual authority or superior value within the flock, but his sober calling to follow his Shepherd in such a way that his fellow sheep can “consider the outcome of [his] way of life, and imitate [his] faith,” to speak to them “the word of God,” and to keep watch over their souls, as one “who will have to give an account” (Hebrews 13:7, 17).<br />
<br />
'''Call to Prayerful Dependence'''<br />
<br />
If understood correctly, a pastor’s calling is designed to keep him in a posture of prayerful dependence, with his fellow flock members praying on his behalf. For who is adequate for such a calling — accountable to Jesus for how he models what it means to be a Christian, how rightly he handles the word of truth (2 Timothy 2:15), and how the souls under his care spiritually fare? A pastor’s calling should regularly send all the sheep to their knees, because how well a pastor leads hangs on how well he follows the Great Shepherd’s lead.<br />
<br />
To that end, the following are ten suggested ways pastors can pray to be led by Jesus, drawn from various psalms. And they can be easily adapted by church members as ways to pray for those who love them enough to serve as lead followers.<br />
<br />
'''1. Following: Lead me as my shepherd.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.<br><br />
He makes me lie down in green pastures.<br><br />
He leads me beside still waters.<br><br />
He restores my soul.<br><br />
He leads me in paths of righteousness<br><br />
for his name’s sake. (Psalm 23:1–3)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, the flock I am a part of is your flock, and I am only an “overseer,” a lead follower, by the appointment of your Spirit (Acts 20:28). Therefore, I am all the more dependent on you to shepherd me, since apart from you I can do nothing (John 15:5). Help me keep looking to you for everything I need (Philippians 4:19) and seeking to serve your flock in the strength you supply (1 Peter 4:11). Lead me in paths of righteousness for your name’s sake.<br />
<br />
'''2. Wisdom: Lead me in your understanding.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Give me understanding, that I may keep your law<br><br />
and observe it with my whole heart.<br><br />
Lead me in the path of your commandments,<br><br />
for I delight in it. (Psalm 119:34–35)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, I believe that “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” and that “all those who practice it have a good understanding” (Psalm 111:10). This is why I delight in your word: it is the source of understanding for how I and my fellow sheep may “walk in a manner . . . fully pleasing to” you (Colossians 1:10). So give me understanding that I may wisely observe your commandments with my whole heart, because I love you (John 14:15).<br />
<br />
'''3. Teaching: Lead me by your Spirit.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Teach me to do your will,<br><br />
for you are my God!<br><br />
Let your good Spirit lead me<br><br />
on level ground! (Psalm 143:10)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, you’ve called me, as a lead follower, to teach my brothers and sisters (1 Timothy 3:2; Titus 1:9). Help me remember that I have nothing to teach them that I have not received from you through others by your Spirit (1 Corinthians 4:7). And help me remember that I am responsible to teach not merely through what I say, but through what I do by the power of your Spirit (James 1:22). So lead me by your good Spirit, and teach me to do your will.<br />
<br />
'''4. Purity: Lead me in your righteousness.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Search me, O God, and know my heart!<br><br />
Try me and know my thoughts!<br><br />
And see if there be any grievous way in me,<br><br />
and lead me in the way everlasting! (Psalm 139:23–24)</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>Lead me, O Lord, in your righteousness. (Psalm 5:8)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, apart from your sovereign keeping, I am as vulnerable to temptation and as prone to wander as any of my fellow sheep. And you know the state of my heart and my inmost thoughts more thoroughly than I do. Do whatever you must to reveal any grievous way in me so that my precious brothers and sisters “who hope in you” never have cause to “be put to shame through me” (Psalm 69:6). Help me lead by seeking to be a lead confessor, lead repenter, lead grace-recipient, and lead holiness-pursuer. Lead me in your righteousness — don’t let me try to lead with mine.<br />
<br />
'''5. Guidance: Lead me in your truth.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Make me to know your ways, O Lord;<br><br />
teach me your paths.<br><br />
Lead me in your truth and teach me,<br><br />
for you are the God of my salvation;<br><br />
for you I wait all the day long. (Psalm 25:4–5)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, all your providential paths “are steadfast love and faithfulness” (Psalm 25:10). But as a lead follower, I often do not know the right path to take. I and this flock are utterly dependent upon you to lead us. Make me humble enough to remember that “in an abundance of counselors there is safety” (Proverbs 11:14), patient enough not to move until you grant sufficient clarity, and bold enough to lead in following you when your guidance becomes sufficiently clear. Lead me and my fellow sheep in your truth and teach us.<br />
<br />
'''6. Courage: Lead me because of my enemies.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Teach me your way, O Lord,<br><br />
and lead me on a level path<br><br />
because of my enemies. (Psalm 27:11)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, you displayed such wise and gracious courage in the face of your spiritual and human adversaries. Train me in cultivating such courage. Teach me to be “quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger” (James 1:19), to courageously seek the glory of the one who sent me, and not my own (John 7:18). Teach me to truly love my enemies and seek their good (Luke 6:27) while remaining courageous enough to speak the truth in love when it is unpopular and despised (Ephesians 4:15). Lead me on a level path because of my enemies.<br />
<br />
'''7. Discouragement: Lead me with your light.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Send out your light and your truth;<br><br />
let them lead me. (Psalm 43:3)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, when I do succumb to discouragement because of the opposition of adversaries, criticism from my fellow sheep, sorrow from tragedies within my flock, difficulties within my family, my besetting weaknesses, or fatigue from long, strenuous labors, have mercy on me. Send out your light and your truth, and let them lead me to once again “take courage” (Psalm 27:14).<br />
<br />
'''8. Protection: Lead me to your refuge.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>You are my rock and my fortress;<br><br />
and for your name’s sake you lead me and guide me. (Psalm 31:3)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, you laid down your life for your sheep to deliver us from our greatest danger: your Father’s wrath (John 10:11; Romans 5:8–9). You told us we would experience tribulation in the world, but not to fear because you have overcome the world (John 16:33). And you promise to “rescue [us] from every evil deed and bring [us] safely into [your] heavenly kingdom” (2 Timothy 4:18). Protect me and my fellow sheep from the true danger of faithlessness. Protect me as a lead follower from discouraging others by fearing what man can do to me more than I fear the destruction of faithlessly shrinking back (Hebrews 10:39). You are my rock and fortress; when I am afraid, lead me to seek my only safe refuge in you.<br />
<br />
'''9. Overwhelmed: Lead me when my heart is faint.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Hear my cry, O God,<br><br />
listen to my prayer;<br><br />
from the end of the earth I call to you<br><br />
when my heart is faint.<br><br />
Lead me to the rock<br><br />
that is higher than I. (Psalm 61:1–2)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, I take comfort that such a faith-filled, strong, courageous lead follower as David at times felt overwhelmed by his circumstances and became faint of heart. And I take comfort that you know my frame and remember that I am dust (Psalm 103:14). When I become overwhelmed, “lift me high upon a rock” (Psalm 27:5), above the fray, where I can rest and regain perspective. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.<br />
<br />
'''10. Spiritual Desertion: Lead me through my darkness.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Where shall I go from your Spirit?<br><br />
Or where shall I flee from your presence?<br><br />
If I ascend to heaven, you are there!<br><br />
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!<br><br />
If I take the wings of the morning.<br><br />
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,<br><br />
even there your hand shall lead me,<br><br />
and your right hand shall hold me.<br><br />
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,<br><br />
even the darkness is not dark to you;<br><br />
the night is bright as the day,<br><br />
for darkness is as light with you. (Psalm 139:7–12)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, when darkness has covered me, and I have lost sight of you; when I can’t discern your presence, and your voice seems like a distant echo; when a spiritual storm overtakes me, and I become disoriented and confused, remind me that saints through the ages have also endured such experiences. Remind me that even my darkness is not dark to you. And reveal yourself — not only to me, but also to my brothers and sisters — as the Shepherd who never loses a sheep (Luke 15:4), even in the valley of the shadow (Psalm 23:4). Even there, let your hand lead me until the storm passes and “light dawns in the darkness” (Psalm 112:4).</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Lead_Me,_O_LordLead Me, O Lord2022-11-21T01:44:50Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''Ten Prayers for Christian Leaders''' ''Pastor'' is a strange and difficult calling. It’s strange because, to use the biblical metaphor, a pastor is a sheep to whom ...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''Ten Prayers for Christian Leaders'''<br />
<br />
''Pastor'' is a strange and difficult calling. It’s strange because, to use the biblical metaphor, a pastor is a sheep to whom the Great Shepherd has entrusted certain shepherding responsibilities within a particular “flock of God” (1 Peter 5:2) — he’s a shepherding sheep. And it’s difficult because, in addition to carrying out his demanding shepherding responsibilities, he himself needs to be led by the Great Shepherd as much any other Christian. Indeed, he is to set an example of following for his fellow sheep (1 Peter 5:3).<br />
<br />
In other words, a pastor is a ''lead follower'', which puts the emphasis of his calling in the right places. He’s first and foremost a ''follower'' of Jesus, the Great Shepherd, like any other sheep. Lead describes not his exalted status or unquestionable spiritual authority or superior value within the flock, but his sober calling to follow his Shepherd in such a way that his fellow sheep can “consider the outcome of [his] way of life, and imitate [his] faith,” to speak to them “the word of God,” and to keep watch over their souls, as one “who will have to give an account” (Hebrews 13:7, 17).<br />
<br />
'''Call to Prayerful Dependence'''<br />
<br />
If understood correctly, a pastor’s calling is designed to keep him in a posture of prayerful dependence, with his fellow flock members praying on his behalf. For who is adequate for such a calling — accountable to Jesus for how he models what it means to be a Christian, how rightly he handles the word of truth (2 Timothy 2:15), and how the souls under his care spiritually fare? A pastor’s calling should regularly send all the sheep to their knees, because how well a pastor leads hangs on how well he follows the Great Shepherd’s lead.<br />
<br />
To that end, the following are ten suggested ways pastors can pray to be led by Jesus, drawn from various psalms. And they can be easily adapted by church members as ways to pray for those who love them enough to serve as lead followers.<br />
<br />
'''1. Following: Lead me as my shepherd.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.<br><br />
He makes me lie down in green pastures.<br><br />
He leads me beside still waters.<br><br />
He restores my soul.<br><br />
He leads me in paths of righteousness<br><br />
for his name’s sake. (Psalm 23:1–3)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, the flock I am a part of is your flock, and I am only an “overseer,” a lead follower, by the appointment of your Spirit (Acts 20:28). Therefore, I am all the more dependent on you to shepherd me, since apart from you I can do nothing (John 15:5). Help me keep looking to you for everything I need (Philippians 4:19) and seeking to serve your flock in the strength you supply (1 Peter 4:11). Lead me in paths of righteousness for your name’s sake.<br />
<br />
'''2. Wisdom: Lead me in your understanding.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Give me understanding, that I may keep your law<br><br />
and observe it with my whole heart.<br><br />
Lead me in the path of your commandments,<br><br />
for I delight in it. (Psalm 119:34–35)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, I believe that “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” and that “all those who practice it have a good understanding” (Psalm 111:10). This is why I delight in your word: it is the source of understanding for how I and my fellow sheep may “walk in a manner . . . fully pleasing to” you (Colossians 1:10). So give me understanding that I may wisely observe your commandments with my whole heart, because I love you (John 14:15).<br />
<br />
'''3. Teaching: Lead me by your Spirit.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Teach me to do your will,<br><br />
for you are my God!<br><br />
Let your good Spirit lead me<br><br />
on level ground! (Psalm 143:10)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, you’ve called me, as a lead follower, to teach my brothers and sisters (1 Timothy 3:2; Titus 1:9). Help me remember that I have nothing to teach them that I have not received from you through others by your Spirit (1 Corinthians 4:7). And help me remember that I am responsible to teach not merely through what I say, but through what I do by the power of your Spirit (James 1:22). So lead me by your good Spirit, and teach me to do your will.<br />
<br />
'''4. Purity: Lead me in your righteousness.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Search me, O God, and know my heart!<br><br />
Try me and know my thoughts!<br><br />
And see if there be any grievous way in me,<br><br />
and lead me in the way everlasting! (Psalm 139:23–24)</blockquote><br />
<br />
<blockquote>Lead me, O Lord, in your righteousness. (Psalm 5:8)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, apart from your sovereign keeping, I am as vulnerable to temptation and as prone to wander as any of my fellow sheep. And you know the state of my heart and my inmost thoughts more thoroughly than I do. Do whatever you must to reveal any grievous way in me so that my precious brothers and sisters “who hope in you” never have cause to “be put to shame through me” (Psalm 69:6). Help me lead by seeking to be a lead confessor, lead repenter, lead grace-recipient, and lead holiness-pursuer. Lead me in your righteousness — don’t let me try to lead with mine.<br />
<br />
'''5. Guidance: Lead me in your truth.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Make me to know your ways, O Lord;<br><br />
teach me your paths.<br><br />
Lead me in your truth and teach me,<br><br />
for you are the God of my salvation;<br><br />
for you I wait all the day long. (Psalm 25:4–5)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, all your providential paths “are steadfast love and faithfulness” (Psalm 25:10). But as a lead follower, I often do not know the right path to take. I and this flock are utterly dependent upon you to lead us. Make me humble enough to remember that “in an abundance of counselors there is safety” (Proverbs 11:14), patient enough not to move until you grant sufficient clarity, and bold enough to lead in following you when your guidance becomes sufficiently clear. Lead me and my fellow sheep in your truth and teach us.<br />
<br />
'''6. Courage: Lead me because of my enemies.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Teach me your way, O Lord,<br><br />
and lead me on a level path<br><br />
because of my enemies. (Psalm 27:11)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, you displayed such wise and gracious courage in the face of your spiritual and human adversaries. Train me in cultivating such courage. Teach me to be “quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger” (James 1:19), to courageously seek the glory of the one who sent me, and not my own (John 7:18). Teach me to truly love my enemies and seek their good (Luke 6:27) while remaining courageous enough to speak the truth in love when it is unpopular and despised (Ephesians 4:15). Lead me on a level path because of my enemies.<br />
<br />
'''7. Discouragement: Lead me with your light.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Send out your light and your truth;<br><br />
let them lead me. (Psalm 43:3)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, when I do succumb to discouragement because of the opposition of adversaries, criticism from my fellow sheep, sorrow from tragedies within my flock, difficulties within my family, my besetting weaknesses, or fatigue from long, strenuous labors, have mercy on me. Send out your light and your truth, and let them lead me to once again “take courage” (Psalm 27:14).<br />
<br />
'''8. Protection: Lead me to your refuge.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>You are my rock and my fortress;<br><br />
and for your name’s sake you lead me and guide me. (Psalm 31:3)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, you laid down your life for your sheep to deliver us from our greatest danger: your Father’s wrath (John 10:11; Romans 5:8–9). You told us we would experience tribulation in the world, but not to fear because you have overcome the world (John 16:33). And you promise to “rescue [us] from every evil deed and bring [us] safely into [your] heavenly kingdom” (2 Timothy 4:18). Protect me and my fellow sheep from the true danger of faithlessness. Protect me as a lead follower from discouraging others by fearing what man can do to me more than I fear the destruction of faithlessly shrinking back (Hebrews 10:39). You are my rock and fortress; when I am afraid, lead me to seek my only safe refuge in you.<br />
<br />
'''9. Overwhelmed: Lead me when my heart is faint.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Hear my cry, O God,<br><br />
listen to my prayer;<br><br />
from the end of the earth I call to you<br><br />
when my heart is faint.<br><br />
Lead me to the rock<br><br />
that is higher than I. (Psalm 61:1–2)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, I take comfort that such a faith-filled, strong, courageous lead follower as David at times felt overwhelmed by his circumstances and became faint of heart. And I take comfort that you know my frame and remember that I am dust (Psalm 103:14). When I become overwhelmed, “lift me high upon a rock” (Psalm 27:5), above the fray, where I can rest and regain perspective. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.<br />
<br />
'''10. Spiritual Desertion: Lead me through my darkness.'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Where shall I go from your Spirit?<br><br />
Or where shall I flee from your presence?<br><br />
If I ascend to heaven, you are there!<br><br />
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!<br><br />
If I take the wings of the morning.<br><br />
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,<br><br />
even there your hand shall lead me,<br><br />
and your right hand shall hold me.<br><br />
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,<br><br />
even the darkness is not dark to you;<br><br />
the night is bright as the day,<br><br />
for darkness is as light with you. (Psalm 139:7–12)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Great Shepherd, when darkness has covered me, and I have lost sight of you; when I can’t discern your presence, and your voice seems like a distant echo; when a spiritual storm overtakes me, and I become disoriented and confused, remind me that saints through the ages have also endured such experiences. Remind me that even my darkness is not dark to you. And reveal yourself — not only to me, but also to my brothers and sisters — as the Shepherd who never loses a sheep (Luke 15:4), even in the valley of the shadow (Psalm 23:4). Even there, let your hand lead me until the storm passes and “light dawns in the darkness” (Psalm 112:4).</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Screen_SabbathsScreen Sabbaths2022-11-18T15:43:10Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "Screen Sabbaths" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''A Modest Proposal for a Digital World'''<br />
<br />
A few years ago, a group of cognitive and behavioral psychologists took five hundred college students, split them into three groups, and gave them two tests. The groups were alike in every way except one: the placement of their phones. The first group had their phones screen-down on the table; the second had their phones in their pockets; the third didn’t have their phones at all. You probably can see where this is going.<br />
<br />
Though the phones of all three groups were on silent, and though few students said they felt distracted by their phones, the test scores followed an inverse relationship to the nearness of the device. On average, the closer the phone, the lower the grade. Nicholas Carr, who discusses this study in the 2020 afterword to his book ''The Shallows'', summarizes the psychologists’ troubling conclusion:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Smartphones have become so tied up in our lives that, even when we’re not peering or pawing at them, they tug at our attention, diverting precious cognitive resources. Just suppressing the desire to check a phone, which we do routinely and subconsciously throughout the day, can debilitate our thinking. (230)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The finding — corroborated by similar studies — gives clear expression to the vague sense many feel: our phones shape us not only, perhaps not even mainly, by the ''content'' they deliver to us, but also by the mere presence of something so pleasing, so undemanding, so endlessly interesting. Smartphones, though small, exert a (subconscious) gravitational pull on our attention, drawing our thoughts and feelings into their orbit, even when their screens are dark.<br />
<br />
Which means, if Christians are going to heed the summons of Romans 12:2 in a smartphone age — “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind” — we will need to do more than resist the false ''content'' on our phones. We will need to resist the false gravitational ''presence'' our phones so subtly exert upon us.<br />
<br />
And to that end, we might find help from an ancient practice: Sabbath.<br />
<br />
'''Our Intimate Companion'''<br />
<br />
Before considering what the Sabbath might mean for our screens, take fresh stock of where we are. The smartphone entered the world in 2007; by 2011, most of us had one. Now, just over a decade later, most of us have a hard time remembering life without one. Screens have become ubiquitous, seemingly inescapable — digital Alexanders who conquered our consciousness overnight.<br />
<br />
For many, our phones are the first face we see in the morning, the last at night, and by far the most frequent in between. We have become a sea of bent heads and sore thumbs, adept at navigating sidewalks and store aisles with our peripheral vision. Phones have become so thoroughly embedded with mind and body that many feel phantom vibrations and find their hand repeatedly twitching, unbidden, toward the pocket. As of two years ago, the average American spends at least half his waking hours on a screen (The Shallows, 227).<br />
<br />
Where shall we go from this digital spirit? Or where shall we flee from its presence? If we ascend to heaven, airplanes offer WiFi. If we make our bed in darkness, something buzzes on the nightstand. If we take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there 5G coverage will keep us within reach.<br />
<br />
The stupendous prevalence of our phones may not be a problem if we knew a screen-saturated existence improved our quality of life and helped us follow Jesus more faithfully. Unfortunately, we have many reasons to think it doesn’t.<br />
<br />
'''Digitized, Dehumanized'''<br />
<br />
The irony has not escaped me that I am currently staring at a screen, and so (most likely) are you. Lest I saw off the branch I’m sitting on, let it be said: Our phones and other screens are gifts to thank God for. So much good can be done by them and through them. The need of the hour is not to shoot these wild stallions dead, but to tame them and harness their power.<br />
<br />
But oh how they need taming. Jean Twenge, in her carefully researched book iGen, includes a graph that shows how much certain screen activities (like gaming, texting, and social networking) and certain nonscreen activities (like exercising, reading, and spending time with friends) contribute to teens’ happiness. She writes,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>The results could not be clearer: teens who spend more time on screen activities . . . are more likely to be unhappy, and those who spend more time on nonscreen activities . . . are more likely to be happy. There’s not a single exception: all screen activities are linked to less happiness, and all nonscreen activities are linked to more happiness. (77–78)</blockquote><br />
<br />
And as with happiness, so with other categories of mental health: “More screen time causes more anxiety, depression, loneliness, and less emotional connection” (112).<br />
<br />
As Christians, can we not testify to a similar correlation between screens and the spiritual life? Though phones may serve our discipleship to Jesus in some ways (such as by giving us easy access to Scripture and Bible-study tools), they can do so at great cost. Rather than help us meditate, they often interrupt, draw our attention elsewhere, and cultivate habits of cursory reading. Rather than help us pray, they often fill the blank spaces of our days. Rather than help us evangelize, they often cast our gaze downward as we walk past our neighbors.<br />
<br />
Those with a robust biblical anthropology look on unsurprised at our phones’ detrimental effects. Are we not ''social'' creatures, made for a fellowship that goes deeper than pen and ink, screen and key (2 John 12)? Are we not ''embodied'' creatures, made to feast upon God’s world with all five senses (Genesis 2:7; Psalm 104)? Are we not ''intellectual'' creatures, made to think deeply and not just on the surface of things (2 Timothy 2:7)? And are we not, first and foremost, Godward creatures, made to live ''coram Deo'' (Colossians 3:17) and not ''coram smartphone?''<br />
<br />
Perhaps, in such a digital world as ours, some Christians can protect and grow their social, embodied, intellectual, Godward nature apart from taking some extreme countermeasures. To me, that effort feels like trying to sleep with the lights on: possible, but harder than it needs to be.<br />
<br />
'''Screen Sabbaths'''<br />
<br />
Enter the Sabbath. From the exodus onward, Israel’s Sabbath served as a weekly reminder of Reality. And not just a ''reminder'' of Reality (as if the Sabbath were merely a mental exercise), but a ''felt sense'' of it. God revealed himself as Israel’s restful Creator (Exodus 20:11) and rest-giving Redeemer (Deuteronomy 5:15). But given how deeply they had been shaped by work-obsessed Egypt, and given the bent of their own hearts toward restlessness, they needed a practice that would work their confession down into the nerves and sinews of the soul.<br />
<br />
And so, God gave them the Sabbath, a day that shifted the gravitational center away from Egypt with its restless Pharaoh and toward Reality with its restful God, trading a seven-day workweek for God’s own six-and-one pattern (Genesis 2:1–3). As such, the Sabbath takes its place alongside Israel’s festivals and feasts, the psalmist’s day-and-night meditation (Psalm 1:1–2), Daniel’s kneeling prayer (Daniel 6:10), and Jesus’s morning solitude (Mark 1:35; Luke 5:16) as a practice of disciplined resistance against the atmospheric influence of the world.<br />
<br />
Now, how might we apply the Sabbath principle to our screen-addled, digitally saturated selves? The proposal is neither complicated nor novel: in order to resist the tug of your digital devices and live as a more present follower of Jesus, take a break from screens one day a week. Whether for a full 24 hours or for some other protected time, turn off the phone, close the computer, and plunge yourself into God’s created world, embodied and attentive to the people and places nearby. Call it a screen Sabbath.<br />
<br />
The idea may sound extreme or impractical in a world where screens mediate so much of life. (No texts, emails, directions, podcasts, or camera?) Consider, however, not simply what you might lose on such a day, but also all you might gain.<br />
<br />
'''Life off the Grid'''<br />
<br />
What might happen if, for one day a week, you silenced the hum and darkened the glow of every device? If you knew you would hear no ding and feel no vibration? If every impulse to text, check, or divert were thwarted by an empty pocket? What might happen on such a day?<br />
<br />
You might pull aside the curtains to a different glow, watching as the sun begins his morning run (Psalm 19:5). You might hear again voices so often drowned in the digital buzz: a cardinal singing from fencepost to branch, a hidden chorus of crickets, the meow of a neighbor’s stretching cat. Instead of drifting bodiless through the digital ether, you might dig your hands into the dirt or pound the paths of your allotted dwelling place (Acts 17:26).<br />
<br />
Or maybe you would see your gruff neighbor, or the impatient parent at the park, as more than a two-dimensional stick figure, and instead begin to imagine the hopes and fears beating in their breast. Maybe such seeing would lead to speaking, and speaking to befriending, and befriending to praying and witnessing. Later, you might sit across the table from spouse, friend, or child and find the kind of undistracted inner quiet that plays host to quick hearing, slow speech (James 1:19).<br />
<br />
Or you might discover new patience for Bible reading and prayer. Instead of glancing over the surface of a passage, maybe you would carefully turn over some of its stones, meditating like the blessed man and finding yourself blessed (Psalm 1:1–3). You might slow down as you respond to God’s words, perhaps for the first time in a long time laying your cares before him one by one (1 Peter 5:6–7). You might feel an exhale of the soul.<br />
<br />
And when the time comes to turn the phone back on, you might find that you have carried some of this seventh-day rest with you.<br />
<br />
'''Spirit of the Seventh Day'''<br />
<br />
We should be wary of idealism, of course. A day without screens is still a day in a fallen world, a day when our flesh refuses to rest and we sometimes find, to our dismay, our attention scattered and our devotion to God shallow. Surely in ancient Israel the godly sometimes left the Sabbath day still restless. Over time, however, the weekly Sabbath did something to those who received it by faith: it slowly recalibrated them toward God-centered Reality, sending the restful spirit of the seventh day into the following six.<br />
<br />
And so might a screen Sabbath. Taking disciplined time away from screens may not be the only way to live in the digital world without being conformed to it, but it is one good way. Over time, the gravitational pull of our phones may grow weaker, and we may find ourselves drawn into a different, far better orbit: the bright, life-giving sun of God himself.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Screen_SabbathsScreen Sabbaths2022-11-18T15:43:01Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}'''A Modest Proposal for a Digital World''' A few years ago, a group of cognitive and behavioral psychologists took five hundred college students, split them into three ...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}'''A Modest Proposal for a Digital World'''<br />
<br />
A few years ago, a group of cognitive and behavioral psychologists took five hundred college students, split them into three groups, and gave them two tests. The groups were alike in every way except one: the placement of their phones. The first group had their phones screen-down on the table; the second had their phones in their pockets; the third didn’t have their phones at all. You probably can see where this is going.<br />
<br />
Though the phones of all three groups were on silent, and though few students said they felt distracted by their phones, the test scores followed an inverse relationship to the nearness of the device. On average, the closer the phone, the lower the grade. Nicholas Carr, who discusses this study in the 2020 afterword to his book ''The Shallows'', summarizes the psychologists’ troubling conclusion:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Smartphones have become so tied up in our lives that, even when we’re not peering or pawing at them, they tug at our attention, diverting precious cognitive resources. Just suppressing the desire to check a phone, which we do routinely and subconsciously throughout the day, can debilitate our thinking. (230)</blockquote><br />
<br />
The finding — corroborated by similar studies — gives clear expression to the vague sense many feel: our phones shape us not only, perhaps not even mainly, by the ''content'' they deliver to us, but also by the mere presence of something so pleasing, so undemanding, so endlessly interesting. Smartphones, though small, exert a (subconscious) gravitational pull on our attention, drawing our thoughts and feelings into their orbit, even when their screens are dark.<br />
<br />
Which means, if Christians are going to heed the summons of Romans 12:2 in a smartphone age — “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind” — we will need to do more than resist the false ''content'' on our phones. We will need to resist the false gravitational ''presence'' our phones so subtly exert upon us.<br />
<br />
And to that end, we might find help from an ancient practice: Sabbath.<br />
<br />
'''Our Intimate Companion'''<br />
<br />
Before considering what the Sabbath might mean for our screens, take fresh stock of where we are. The smartphone entered the world in 2007; by 2011, most of us had one. Now, just over a decade later, most of us have a hard time remembering life without one. Screens have become ubiquitous, seemingly inescapable — digital Alexanders who conquered our consciousness overnight.<br />
<br />
For many, our phones are the first face we see in the morning, the last at night, and by far the most frequent in between. We have become a sea of bent heads and sore thumbs, adept at navigating sidewalks and store aisles with our peripheral vision. Phones have become so thoroughly embedded with mind and body that many feel phantom vibrations and find their hand repeatedly twitching, unbidden, toward the pocket. As of two years ago, the average American spends at least half his waking hours on a screen (The Shallows, 227).<br />
<br />
Where shall we go from this digital spirit? Or where shall we flee from its presence? If we ascend to heaven, airplanes offer WiFi. If we make our bed in darkness, something buzzes on the nightstand. If we take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there 5G coverage will keep us within reach.<br />
<br />
The stupendous prevalence of our phones may not be a problem if we knew a screen-saturated existence improved our quality of life and helped us follow Jesus more faithfully. Unfortunately, we have many reasons to think it doesn’t.<br />
<br />
'''Digitized, Dehumanized'''<br />
<br />
The irony has not escaped me that I am currently staring at a screen, and so (most likely) are you. Lest I saw off the branch I’m sitting on, let it be said: Our phones and other screens are gifts to thank God for. So much good can be done by them and through them. The need of the hour is not to shoot these wild stallions dead, but to tame them and harness their power.<br />
<br />
But oh how they need taming. Jean Twenge, in her carefully researched book iGen, includes a graph that shows how much certain screen activities (like gaming, texting, and social networking) and certain nonscreen activities (like exercising, reading, and spending time with friends) contribute to teens’ happiness. She writes,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>The results could not be clearer: teens who spend more time on screen activities . . . are more likely to be unhappy, and those who spend more time on nonscreen activities . . . are more likely to be happy. There’s not a single exception: all screen activities are linked to less happiness, and all nonscreen activities are linked to more happiness. (77–78)</blockquote><br />
<br />
And as with happiness, so with other categories of mental health: “More screen time causes more anxiety, depression, loneliness, and less emotional connection” (112).<br />
<br />
As Christians, can we not testify to a similar correlation between screens and the spiritual life? Though phones may serve our discipleship to Jesus in some ways (such as by giving us easy access to Scripture and Bible-study tools), they can do so at great cost. Rather than help us meditate, they often interrupt, draw our attention elsewhere, and cultivate habits of cursory reading. Rather than help us pray, they often fill the blank spaces of our days. Rather than help us evangelize, they often cast our gaze downward as we walk past our neighbors.<br />
<br />
Those with a robust biblical anthropology look on unsurprised at our phones’ detrimental effects. Are we not ''social'' creatures, made for a fellowship that goes deeper than pen and ink, screen and key (2 John 12)? Are we not ''embodied'' creatures, made to feast upon God’s world with all five senses (Genesis 2:7; Psalm 104)? Are we not ''intellectual'' creatures, made to think deeply and not just on the surface of things (2 Timothy 2:7)? And are we not, first and foremost, Godward creatures, made to live ''coram Deo'' (Colossians 3:17) and not ''coram smartphone?''<br />
<br />
Perhaps, in such a digital world as ours, some Christians can protect and grow their social, embodied, intellectual, Godward nature apart from taking some extreme countermeasures. To me, that effort feels like trying to sleep with the lights on: possible, but harder than it needs to be.<br />
<br />
'''Screen Sabbaths'''<br />
<br />
Enter the Sabbath. From the exodus onward, Israel’s Sabbath served as a weekly reminder of Reality. And not just a ''reminder'' of Reality (as if the Sabbath were merely a mental exercise), but a ''felt sense'' of it. God revealed himself as Israel’s restful Creator (Exodus 20:11) and rest-giving Redeemer (Deuteronomy 5:15). But given how deeply they had been shaped by work-obsessed Egypt, and given the bent of their own hearts toward restlessness, they needed a practice that would work their confession down into the nerves and sinews of the soul.<br />
<br />
And so, God gave them the Sabbath, a day that shifted the gravitational center away from Egypt with its restless Pharaoh and toward Reality with its restful God, trading a seven-day workweek for God’s own six-and-one pattern (Genesis 2:1–3). As such, the Sabbath takes its place alongside Israel’s festivals and feasts, the psalmist’s day-and-night meditation (Psalm 1:1–2), Daniel’s kneeling prayer (Daniel 6:10), and Jesus’s morning solitude (Mark 1:35; Luke 5:16) as a practice of disciplined resistance against the atmospheric influence of the world.<br />
<br />
Now, how might we apply the Sabbath principle to our screen-addled, digitally saturated selves? The proposal is neither complicated nor novel: in order to resist the tug of your digital devices and live as a more present follower of Jesus, take a break from screens one day a week. Whether for a full 24 hours or for some other protected time, turn off the phone, close the computer, and plunge yourself into God’s created world, embodied and attentive to the people and places nearby. Call it a screen Sabbath.<br />
<br />
The idea may sound extreme or impractical in a world where screens mediate so much of life. (No texts, emails, directions, podcasts, or camera?) Consider, however, not simply what you might lose on such a day, but also all you might gain.<br />
<br />
'''Life off the Grid'''<br />
<br />
What might happen if, for one day a week, you silenced the hum and darkened the glow of every device? If you knew you would hear no ding and feel no vibration? If every impulse to text, check, or divert were thwarted by an empty pocket? What might happen on such a day?<br />
<br />
You might pull aside the curtains to a different glow, watching as the sun begins his morning run (Psalm 19:5). You might hear again voices so often drowned in the digital buzz: a cardinal singing from fencepost to branch, a hidden chorus of crickets, the meow of a neighbor’s stretching cat. Instead of drifting bodiless through the digital ether, you might dig your hands into the dirt or pound the paths of your allotted dwelling place (Acts 17:26).<br />
<br />
Or maybe you would see your gruff neighbor, or the impatient parent at the park, as more than a two-dimensional stick figure, and instead begin to imagine the hopes and fears beating in their breast. Maybe such seeing would lead to speaking, and speaking to befriending, and befriending to praying and witnessing. Later, you might sit across the table from spouse, friend, or child and find the kind of undistracted inner quiet that plays host to quick hearing, slow speech (James 1:19).<br />
<br />
Or you might discover new patience for Bible reading and prayer. Instead of glancing over the surface of a passage, maybe you would carefully turn over some of its stones, meditating like the blessed man and finding yourself blessed (Psalm 1:1–3). You might slow down as you respond to God’s words, perhaps for the first time in a long time laying your cares before him one by one (1 Peter 5:6–7). You might feel an exhale of the soul.<br />
<br />
And when the time comes to turn the phone back on, you might find that you have carried some of this seventh-day rest with you.<br />
<br />
'''Spirit of the Seventh Day'''<br />
<br />
We should be wary of idealism, of course. A day without screens is still a day in a fallen world, a day when our flesh refuses to rest and we sometimes find, to our dismay, our attention scattered and our devotion to God shallow. Surely in ancient Israel the godly sometimes left the Sabbath day still restless. Over time, however, the weekly Sabbath did something to those who received it by faith: it slowly recalibrated them toward God-centered Reality, sending the restful spirit of the seventh day into the following six.<br />
<br />
And so might a screen Sabbath. Taking disciplined time away from screens may not be the only way to live in the digital world without being conformed to it, but it is one good way. Over time, the gravitational pull of our phones may grow weaker, and we may find ourselves drawn into a different, far better orbit: the bright, life-giving sun of God himself.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Am_I_Ready_for_Ministry%3FAm I Ready for Ministry?2022-11-14T01:37:00Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "Am I Ready for Ministry?" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}Many a man has asked the question, “Am I called to pastoral ministry?” And many a wise leader has counseled him to place the matter upon the three-legged stool of aspiration, affirmation, and opportunity:<br />
<br />
*Do you ''aspire'' to the office (1 Timothy 3:1)?<br />
*Do others (especially your current pastors) ''affirm'' you as a faithful man who will be able to teach others also (2 Timothy 2:2)?<br />
*Has God given you an ''opportunity'' to shepherd a particular flock (Acts 20:28; 1 Peter 5:2)?<br />
These are clarifying questions — but they do not clarify everything. Many who sit on this stool find that one leg seems to wobble. One man may aspire to pastor and have an opportunity, but others have voiced reservations about his readiness. A second man may aspire and receive affirmation, but God has not yet provided an opportunity. And a third man may receive affirmation and have an opportunity, but he wonders if his desires for pastoral ministry really rise to the level of godly aspiration.<br />
<br />
For some time, I found myself as the third man. I felt a desire for ministry, but I wondered if it had been shaped too much by others’ expectations. I also wondered how much ungodliness was mixed in my motives; maybe what I really wanted was a seat at Jesus’s right hand (Mark 10:37). And I felt the weight of the question. As David Mathis writes in his book ''Workers for Your Joy'', “The good of the church is at stake in the holy desire of its pastors. They will not long work well for her joy if it is not their joy to do such work” (47).<br />
<br />
How can men in this position discern whether they truly aspire to shepherd God’s people? We might find clarity by asking three diagnostic questions, drawn from Peter’s charge to the elders in 1 Peter 5:1–4.<br />
<br />
'''Shepherd the Flock of God'''<br />
<br />
Before we turn to Peter’s diagnostics, consider what kind of calling the apostle had in mind when he addressed “the elders among you” (1 Peter 5:1) — lest we aspire to an eldership of our own imagining. Peter writes,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>I exhort the elders among you, as a fellow elder and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, as well as a partaker in the glory that is going to be revealed: shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight . . . (1 Peter 5:1–2)</blockquote><br />
<br />
''Shepherd the flock of God''. A pastor may find himself with a host of responsibilities, but at the heart of his calling is this charge to shepherd God’s precious sheep. And at the heart of shepherding is teaching.<br />
<br />
Peter had learned the shepherd’s teaching task first from his Lord. He had noticed how Jesus, seeing a crowd wandering “like sheep without a shepherd,” did what a true shepherd would: “He began to ''teach'' them many things” (Mark 6:34). He had heard how this good shepherd taught and kept teaching, and how the sheep heard his voice (John 10:27–28). And then, of course, he had received his Lord’s threefold command to feed his sheep (John 21:15–17) — a feeding Jesus had already linked with his ''words'' (John 6:57–58, 63).<br />
<br />
And so, following Jesus’s ascension, the apostle-shepherd taught and taught and taught — among the eleven (Acts 1:15), to the crowds (Acts 2:14), all through Jerusalem (Acts 5:28–29), across the Jew-Gentile divide (Acts 10:34–43), and then eventually by letter, including to those “elect exiles of the Dispersion” who received 1 Peter (verse 1). For Peter, to shepherd Jesus’s lambs meant, preeminently, to feed them Jesus’s words.<br />
<br />
Now, the word ''shepherding'' does not exhaust an elder’s job description. Elders also “exercise oversight,” as Peter says — governing the church’s structures, guarding the church from threats, guiding the church through difficult decisions. Even here, however, teaching saturates the pastoral task, for how else will elders govern and guard and guide except by God’s word?<br />
<br />
“Pastors are first and foremost Bible men — men who preach and teach and counsel God’s word.”<br />
Pastors, then, are first and foremost Bible men — men who preach and teach and counsel God’s word in public and private, from the pulpit and the hospital chair, in season and out. At its core, this is the “noble task” to which we aspire (1 Timothy 3:1).<br />
<br />
'''Three Tests for Godly Aspiration'''<br />
<br />
With the ''what'' of eldership in view, Peter proceeds to describe the ''how'' in three pairs of “not this, but that”:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight, not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you; not for shameful gain, but eagerly; not domineering over those in your charge, but being examples to the flock. (1 Peter 5:2–3)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Here, Peter points us to where our aspiration comes from, where our aspiration aims, and what shape our aspiration takes.<br />
<br />
'''Where does your aspiration come from?'''<br />
<br />
Shepherd the flock of God . . . not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you.<br />
<br />
For some years now, perhaps, the word pastor has seemed stamped on your future. Maybe your father pastored. Maybe friends and mentors have encouraged you to pastor. Maybe you’re currently a seminary student. Either way, pastoring has become entwined with both your own sense of identity and others’ expectations. But now you wonder whether you really want to do this work.<br />
<br />
In Peter’s day, it seems, some men were tempted to become elders “under compulsion” — prodded by others’ wishes or a mere internal sense of ''oughtness'' rather than propelled by their own wants. Such an impulse is understandable — but, Peter writes, it is not “as God would have you” shepherd his people. Jesus, the church’s first and chief Shepherd, does not lead his sheep under compulsion. He wields the rod and the staff with his whole soul, and he looks for men who will embody that same shepherd’s heart to his sheep. So, Mathis writes, “Christ grabs his pastors by the heart; he doesn’t twist them by the arm” (46).<br />
<br />
Christ looks for ''willing'' men. Of course, even men who shepherd “under compulsion” do so ''willingly'' in one sense. But Jesus wants a willingness that goes deeper than “Everyone else thinks I should pastor” or “I can pastor if no one else will.” He wants a willingness that ''reaches'' for the staff (rather than simply receiving it when asked) — and a willingness that keeps a man from tossing the staff when trouble comes.<br />
<br />
'''Where does your aspiration aim?'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Shepherd the flock of God . . . not for shameful gain, but eagerly.</blockquote><br />
<br />
Shameful gain refers, most directly, to money. (In Paul’s letter to Titus, the same word as here appears — translated “greedy for gain” — in place of the phrase “not a lover of money” in his letter to Timothy.) Those who pastor for shameful gain do so mainly because pastoring provides a paycheck — and maybe they can’t imagine how else they would make money. Ministry has lost its God-centered, Christ-exalting, soul-saving focus, and has shrunk to the size of a 401(k).<br />
<br />
Of course, the pastorate also offers other types of shameful gain besides money. Pastoring may bring discomfort and criticism and the burden of others’ expectations, but it can also bring honor in a community, a measure of power, and, for some, a flexible work schedule without much oversight. These too are kinds of shameful gain that might draw a man to ministry. But whatever the kind, Peter buries them all beneath the word eagerly.<br />
<br />
''Eagerly'' overlaps some with ''willingly'', both of them putting their finger on the animating principle in a pastor’s soul. But given the contrast with ''shameful gain, eagerly'' seems to suggest not only a deep willingness to do the work, but also a decided lack of calculation in the work.<br />
<br />
The godly elder does not tally what he can get from the ministry and then labor (or not) accordingly. He ''throws'' himself into the work, come what may: large paycheck or small, honor or suspicion, influence or weakness, difficulty or ease. For him, the work offers its own rewards in the heavenly currency of preaching Christ and helping to lead his flock to glory. Vocational pastors will get paid for their work, as they ought — “the laborer deserves his wages” (1 Timothy 5:18) — but however much they receive, the godly know their pockets are already lined with better treasure.<br />
<br />
'''What shape does your aspiration take?'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Shepherd the flock of God . . . not domineering over those in your charge, but being examples to the flock.</blockquote><br />
<br />
If the word ''shepherd'' echoes Jesus’s charge to Peter on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, the word ''domineer'' recalls another striking conversation:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Jesus called [the twelve] to him and said to them, “You know that those who are considered rulers of the Gentiles ''lord it over'' [''or domineer over''] them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. But it shall not be so among you.” (Mark 10:42–43)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Peter never forgot these words. More importantly, he never forgot the one who spoke them: the Lord who did not lord his authority over his people, but served and died as if he were a slave (Mark 10:44–45). However much Peter may have been tempted toward Gentile-like lordship in the years following, the power of that temptation had bled dry on the cross of his King.<br />
<br />
So, when Peter calls the elders to set an ''example'', he wants them to serve not only as model sheep, but also as little lower-case reflections of the chief Shepherd (1 Peter 5:4). Christ left the highest heaven to find his sheep and bear them home upon his back, and the thought of imitating his regal humility, his lordly lowliness, makes the hearts of godly shepherds beat faster.<br />
<br />
'''Do You Love Me?'''<br />
<br />
Having pointed us backward, forward, and around, Peter ends his charge by lifting our eyes up:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>When the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory. (1 Peter 5:4)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Self-examination has its place on the path to eldership, and in eldership. We need some knowledge of our own hearts to sincerely aspire to the office. But the aspiration itself comes from the upward, not the inward, look.<br />
<br />
So as we seek to discern whether our desires for eldership match God’s pattern for eldership, we may do well to return often to those Galilean shores, where before Jesus issued his threefold charge he asked his threefold question: “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” (John 21:15–17). Do you love the voice that bid you fish for men? Do you love the glory shining on the mount? Do you love the hands that washed your feet and took your nails? Simon, son of John, do you love ''me?''<br />
<br />
Willingness, eagerness, and the desire to set a Christlike example rest and rise on a daily and deepening yes.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Am_I_Ready_for_Ministry%3FAm I Ready for Ministry?2022-11-14T01:36:46Z<p>Kathyyee: Created page with '{{info}}Many a man has asked the question, “Am I called to pastoral ministry?” And many a wise leader has counseled him to place the matter upon the three-legged stool of asp...'</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}Many a man has asked the question, “Am I called to pastoral ministry?” And many a wise leader has counseled him to place the matter upon the three-legged stool of aspiration, affirmation, and opportunity:<br />
<br />
*Do you ''aspire'' to the office (1 Timothy 3:1)?<br />
*Do others (especially your current pastors) ''affirm'' you as a faithful man who will be able to teach others also (2 Timothy 2:2)?<br />
*Has God given you an ''opportunity'' to shepherd a particular flock (Acts 20:28; 1 Peter 5:2)?<br />
These are clarifying questions — but they do not clarify everything. Many who sit on this stool find that one leg seems to wobble. One man may aspire to pastor and have an opportunity, but others have voiced reservations about his readiness. A second man may aspire and receive affirmation, but God has not yet provided an opportunity. And a third man may receive affirmation and have an opportunity, but he wonders if his desires for pastoral ministry really rise to the level of godly aspiration.<br />
<br />
For some time, I found myself as the third man. I felt a desire for ministry, but I wondered if it had been shaped too much by others’ expectations. I also wondered how much ungodliness was mixed in my motives; maybe what I really wanted was a seat at Jesus’s right hand (Mark 10:37). And I felt the weight of the question. As David Mathis writes in his book ''Workers for Your Joy'', “The good of the church is at stake in the holy desire of its pastors. They will not long work well for her joy if it is not their joy to do such work” (47).<br />
<br />
How can men in this position discern whether they truly aspire to shepherd God’s people? We might find clarity by asking three diagnostic questions, drawn from Peter’s charge to the elders in 1 Peter 5:1–4.<br />
<br />
'''Shepherd the Flock of God'''<br />
<br />
Before we turn to Peter’s diagnostics, consider what kind of calling the apostle had in mind when he addressed “the elders among you” (1 Peter 5:1) — lest we aspire to an eldership of our own imagining. Peter writes,<br />
<br />
<blockquote>I exhort the elders among you, as a fellow elder and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, as well as a partaker in the glory that is going to be revealed: shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight . . . (1 Peter 5:1–2)</blockquote><br />
<br />
''Shepherd the flock of God''. A pastor may find himself with a host of responsibilities, but at the heart of his calling is this charge to shepherd God’s precious sheep. And at the heart of shepherding is teaching.<br />
<br />
Peter had learned the shepherd’s teaching task first from his Lord. He had noticed how Jesus, seeing a crowd wandering “like sheep without a shepherd,” did what a true shepherd would: “He began to ''teach'' them many things” (Mark 6:34). He had heard how this good shepherd taught and kept teaching, and how the sheep heard his voice (John 10:27–28). And then, of course, he had received his Lord’s threefold command to feed his sheep (John 21:15–17) — a feeding Jesus had already linked with his ''words'' (John 6:57–58, 63).<br />
<br />
And so, following Jesus’s ascension, the apostle-shepherd taught and taught and taught — among the eleven (Acts 1:15), to the crowds (Acts 2:14), all through Jerusalem (Acts 5:28–29), across the Jew-Gentile divide (Acts 10:34–43), and then eventually by letter, including to those “elect exiles of the Dispersion” who received 1 Peter (verse 1). For Peter, to shepherd Jesus’s lambs meant, preeminently, to feed them Jesus’s words.<br />
<br />
Now, the word ''shepherding'' does not exhaust an elder’s job description. Elders also “exercise oversight,” as Peter says — governing the church’s structures, guarding the church from threats, guiding the church through difficult decisions. Even here, however, teaching saturates the pastoral task, for how else will elders govern and guard and guide except by God’s word?<br />
<br />
“Pastors are first and foremost Bible men — men who preach and teach and counsel God’s word.”<br />
Pastors, then, are first and foremost Bible men — men who preach and teach and counsel God’s word in public and private, from the pulpit and the hospital chair, in season and out. At its core, this is the “noble task” to which we aspire (1 Timothy 3:1).<br />
<br />
'''Three Tests for Godly Aspiration'''<br />
<br />
With the ''what'' of eldership in view, Peter proceeds to describe the ''how'' in three pairs of “not this, but that”:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight, not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you; not for shameful gain, but eagerly; not domineering over those in your charge, but being examples to the flock. (1 Peter 5:2–3)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Here, Peter points us to where our aspiration comes from, where our aspiration aims, and what shape our aspiration takes.<br />
<br />
'''Where does your aspiration come from?'''<br />
<br />
Shepherd the flock of God . . . not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you.<br />
<br />
For some years now, perhaps, the word pastor has seemed stamped on your future. Maybe your father pastored. Maybe friends and mentors have encouraged you to pastor. Maybe you’re currently a seminary student. Either way, pastoring has become entwined with both your own sense of identity and others’ expectations. But now you wonder whether you really want to do this work.<br />
<br />
In Peter’s day, it seems, some men were tempted to become elders “under compulsion” — prodded by others’ wishes or a mere internal sense of ''oughtness'' rather than propelled by their own wants. Such an impulse is understandable — but, Peter writes, it is not “as God would have you” shepherd his people. Jesus, the church’s first and chief Shepherd, does not lead his sheep under compulsion. He wields the rod and the staff with his whole soul, and he looks for men who will embody that same shepherd’s heart to his sheep. So, Mathis writes, “Christ grabs his pastors by the heart; he doesn’t twist them by the arm” (46).<br />
<br />
Christ looks for ''willing'' men. Of course, even men who shepherd “under compulsion” do so ''willingly'' in one sense. But Jesus wants a willingness that goes deeper than “Everyone else thinks I should pastor” or “I can pastor if no one else will.” He wants a willingness that ''reaches'' for the staff (rather than simply receiving it when asked) — and a willingness that keeps a man from tossing the staff when trouble comes.<br />
<br />
'''Where does your aspiration aim?'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Shepherd the flock of God . . . not for shameful gain, but eagerly.</blockquote><br />
<br />
Shameful gain refers, most directly, to money. (In Paul’s letter to Titus, the same word as here appears — translated “greedy for gain” — in place of the phrase “not a lover of money” in his letter to Timothy.) Those who pastor for shameful gain do so mainly because pastoring provides a paycheck — and maybe they can’t imagine how else they would make money. Ministry has lost its God-centered, Christ-exalting, soul-saving focus, and has shrunk to the size of a 401(k).<br />
<br />
Of course, the pastorate also offers other types of shameful gain besides money. Pastoring may bring discomfort and criticism and the burden of others’ expectations, but it can also bring honor in a community, a measure of power, and, for some, a flexible work schedule without much oversight. These too are kinds of shameful gain that might draw a man to ministry. But whatever the kind, Peter buries them all beneath the word eagerly.<br />
<br />
''Eagerly'' overlaps some with ''willingly'', both of them putting their finger on the animating principle in a pastor’s soul. But given the contrast with ''shameful gain, eagerly'' seems to suggest not only a deep willingness to do the work, but also a decided lack of calculation in the work.<br />
<br />
The godly elder does not tally what he can get from the ministry and then labor (or not) accordingly. He ''throws'' himself into the work, come what may: large paycheck or small, honor or suspicion, influence or weakness, difficulty or ease. For him, the work offers its own rewards in the heavenly currency of preaching Christ and helping to lead his flock to glory. Vocational pastors will get paid for their work, as they ought — “the laborer deserves his wages” (1 Timothy 5:18) — but however much they receive, the godly know their pockets are already lined with better treasure.<br />
<br />
'''What shape does your aspiration take?'''<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Shepherd the flock of God . . . not domineering over those in your charge, but being examples to the flock.</blockquote><br />
<br />
If the word ''shepherd'' echoes Jesus’s charge to Peter on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, the word ''domineer'' recalls another striking conversation:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Jesus called [the twelve] to him and said to them, “You know that those who are considered rulers of the Gentiles ''lord it over'' [''or domineer over''] them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. But it shall not be so among you.” (Mark 10:42–43)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Peter never forgot these words. More importantly, he never forgot the one who spoke them: the Lord who did not lord his authority over his people, but served and died as if he were a slave (Mark 10:44–45). However much Peter may have been tempted toward Gentile-like lordship in the years following, the power of that temptation had bled dry on the cross of his King.<br />
<br />
So, when Peter calls the elders to set an ''example'', he wants them to serve not only as model sheep, but also as little lower-case reflections of the chief Shepherd (1 Peter 5:4). Christ left the highest heaven to find his sheep and bear them home upon his back, and the thought of imitating his regal humility, his lordly lowliness, makes the hearts of godly shepherds beat faster.<br />
<br />
'''Do You Love Me?'''<br />
<br />
Having pointed us backward, forward, and around, Peter ends his charge by lifting our eyes up:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>When the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory. (1 Peter 5:4)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Self-examination has its place on the path to eldership, and in eldership. We need some knowledge of our own hearts to sincerely aspire to the office. But the aspiration itself comes from the upward, not the inward, look.<br />
<br />
So as we seek to discern whether our desires for eldership match God’s pattern for eldership, we may do well to return often to those Galilean shores, where before Jesus issued his threefold charge he asked his threefold question: “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” (John 21:15–17). Do you love the voice that bid you fish for men? Do you love the glory shining on the mount? Do you love the hands that washed your feet and took your nails? Simon, son of John, do you love ''me?''<br />
<br />
Willingness, eagerness, and the desire to set a Christlike example rest and rise on a daily and deepening yes.</div>Kathyyeehttp://gospeltranslations.org/wiki/Why_Don%E2%80%99t_We_Have_Good_Friends%3FWhy Don’t We Have Good Friends?2022-11-14T00:59:23Z<p>Kathyyee: Protected "Why Don’t We Have Good Friends?" ([edit=sysop] (indefinite) [move=sysop] (indefinite))</p>
<hr />
<div>{{info}}How many close friends do you have in your life today? Take a minute and count them. Do you have more or less than you did ten years ago?<br />
<br />
One recent study confirms what you might already suspect: many more of us have fewer good friends than we once did. In 1990, just 3% of respondents reported having ''no'' close friends. Thirty years later, that number has quadrupled to 12%. In 1990, one third said they had ''ten or more'' close friends. That number has now shrunk to just over ten percent. Nearly 90% cannot name a friend for each of their fingers. It’s not the only study to come to the same unsettling conclusion: Despite the tidal wave of new ways to connect and communicate with one another, we’re getting lonelier.<br />
<br />
And that loneliness stifles human life. “Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up!” (Ecclesiastes 4:9–10). If we try to live and work alone, we’ll stumble and fall alone. And when we fall alone, we won’t have the encouragement, correction, and support we need to get back up and press through our failures, sorrows, and trials.<br />
<br />
No matter how many years it’s been, no matter how busy you feel, no matter how few your options are, no matter how much it costs you, you still need good friends — yes, even you.<br />
<br />
So why do so many of us have so few of them?<br />
<br />
'''Three Great Walls to Climb'''<br />
<br />
It’s never been easier to make new friends and connect with old ones, so what’s hindering and disrupting these relationships? Drew Hunter, author of ''Made for Friendship'', wisely puts his finger on three major obstacles we face today:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Three aspects of modern culture create unique barriers to deep relationships: busyness, technology, and mobility. . . . These unique barriers can weave together in a very isolating way for us. They encircle us like a rope barrier and keep true friendship out of reach. We may overpower one or two of these strands, but as the saying goes, a cord of three strands is not quickly broken. (30)</blockquote><br />
<br />
What keeps us from meaningful friendships? ''Busyness'', because we fill our schedules so full that friendship feels like a luxury we just can’t afford. ''Technology'', because while it allows for a lot more moments of “connection,” the crumbs it offers leads us to pretend we’re more meaningfully connected than we really are (and leave us starving for more). ''Mobility'', because it’s harder to build real, lasting friendships in places where people are frequently moving away and moving on.<br />
<br />
Those three emerging barriers to friendship certainly resonate with my experience over the last thirty years, and accurately explain some of the challenges we face in pursuing friendship in the twenty-first century. So how might followers of Christ overcome the hurdles and find some good friends?<br />
<br />
'''1. Cadence: Live at the pace of friendship.'''<br />
<br />
When did we become too busy for friends? At a cultural level, it’s difficult to trace the many factors (work from home, instant messaging and social media, on-demand delivery and entertainment, explosion of youth activities, and more). At a personal level, the disruption often happens somewhere between college graduation and our first child’s newborn diapers. The adult demands of work and family swiftly swell and crowd out the margin we used to have. The time with friends that used to cost us next to nothing now seems far too expensive.<br />
<br />
Rather than assuming friendship is simply a casualty of higher callings, what if we assumed that friendship was still vital to those higher callings? Because it is. “Exhort one another every day, as long as it is called ‘today,’ that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin” (Hebrews 3:13). Of course, if you’re married, your spouse is one valuable voice, but he or she can’t be the only voice. Whether married or single, we need others from outside the home to sing (or shout) reality into our hearts and homes. In other words, we need friends.<br />
<br />
And to experience friendship with fellow humans, we need to live at a pace that is human (which, ironically, may increasingly put us out of step with society). Instead of constantly scrolling by one another, what if we slowed down enough to see and hear and focus on the person in front of us? What if we practiced hospitality, not just with our kitchens and living rooms, but with our time and attention?<br />
<br />
How different our lives might be if they were marked by something like the togetherness of the early church:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>All who believed ''were together'' and had all things in common. . . . And day by day, attending the temple ''together'' and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people. (Acts 2:44–47)</blockquote><br />
<br />
Their lives were beautifully full, but not with the tasks, emails, and apps that dominate our days. No, their lives were full with people — with one another. Life was slower in many ways, and yet far more productive for being slow: “And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved” (Acts 2:47).<br />
<br />
'''2. Presence: Find time and space to share.'''<br />
<br />
Technology is not necessarily an enemy of friendship. It can be an unprecedented blessing when employed wisely. Imagine just how much previous generations would have given to be able to talk in real-time, even once, with a far-away loved one (much less actually see them on a screen). The problems emerge when we lean too much on technology — when it becomes a substitute for, rather than supplement to, physical presence. Every human needs food, water, shelter, and regular time with other humans.<br />
<br />
The apostle Paul used the technology available in his day to communicate with his brothers and sisters in the faith, but he knew that writing was no replacement for eye contact: “I long to see you, that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to strengthen you — that is, that we may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith, both yours and mine” (Romans 1:11–12). He knew there were graces that ink and paper couldn’t carry. There was a whole class of encouragement reserved for living rooms and dining tables. He knew that something critical and intangible happens when two or more are gathered in the name of Jesus ''in the same space''.<br />
<br />
This doesn’t mean friends boycott technology. It does mean we acknowledge the weaknesses and limitations of technology (even the best technology), and love one another accordingly. A good place to start might be to quickly audit your current friendships and ask roughly what percentage of your interactions are physical or digital. The results will vary for people with different personalities in different circumstances and stages of life, but for every stage, circumstance, and temperament there should be some consistent, meaningful ''presence''. It is worth fighting for more regular time to be face to face with at least a few good friends.<br />
<br />
'''3. Permanence: Rediscover the value of staying.'''<br />
<br />
Lastly, perhaps the largest hurdle of the three: mobility. It’s never been easier to pick up and move, which means it’s often much, much harder to find and keep long-term friendships. Just think for a minute about how many of your friendships ''in just the last two years'' have been disrupted by some major life change and the accompanying move. We’re the goodbye generation.<br />
<br />
The depth of friendships our souls need won’t happen overnight. These gardens of trust require years, maybe decades, of patient attention and tending. So how do we make and keep friends in a day of so many goodbyes? The first thing to say may be hard for many of us to hear: ''rediscover the value of staying put''.<br />
<br />
How many people do you know in your circles who would forgo a better-paying, more-satisfying job in a more appealing city for the sake of Christian friendships and community? Building the kind of friendships that really matter and bear fruit requires the kind of sacrifices fewer today are willing to make. In the early church, and for most of history, this kind of permanence was simply a given. Picking up and moving was too costly. Today, permanence is becoming a discipline and a virtue. We might wonder, How many who are uprooting and leaving now will eventually come to realize what they lost and wish they had chosen church and friendships over convenience and job opportunities?<br />
<br />
Some friendships, however, will survive moves and time zones, through some serious creativity and persistence, but very few will thrive. A few of my best friends today were once down-the-road friends (or even share-a-bathroom-and-a-kitchen friends), but are now several-states-over friends. We’re not as close as we once were, but we do what we can to stay in touch. The apostle Paul, for one, was a faithful long-distance friend, though it seems he was always planning a visit. He writes to those he knows well, loves more, and yet can’t walk over and see anymore:<br />
<br />
*“For God is my witness, how I yearn for you all with the affection of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:8).<br />
*“[Timothy] has brought us the good news of your faith and love and reported that you always remember us kindly and long to see us, as we long to see you” (1 Thessalonians 3:6).<br />
*“As I remember your tears, I long to see you, that I may be filled with joy.” (2 Timothy 1:4).<br />
<br />
Long-distance friendships are possible, and can be precious, but they are a little like walking uphill, requiring extra effort with every step (like writing twenty-eight chapters to the church in Corinth). They can’t be our only close friendships. However faithful our faraway friends are, we need down-the-road friends. And hopefully a few of them are down the road for the long haul.<br />
<br />
'''4. Substance: Brave the depths of conversation.'''<br />
<br />
Busyness, technology, mobility — those are three real and developing hurdles to friendship. We should all be aware of them and make some plan for clearing them. As I wrestled with each of them, though, I couldn’t help seeing a fourth major barrier, one that is by no means modern: ''triviality''.<br />
<br />
How many of our potential friendships — real, meaningful, durable friendships — have died on the rocks of sports, shows, or headline news? How many conversations began and ended on the paper thin surface of life? How often was God left out completely? The greatest challenge to friendship today may not be our schedules, phones, or moving trucks, but just how easy it is to peacefully float along above the rich depths of real friendship.<br />
<br />
Social media can certainly aggravate the issue, but this temptation isn’t new. Satan has always been seducing us into the shallows of superficiality and distracting us from the depths of friendship. So how do we wade deeper? Through courageous, Christ-exalting intentionality: “Let us consider” — really consider — “how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near” (Hebrews 10:24–25).<br />
<br />
If we commit to this kind of reflection, this kind of commitment, this kind of encouragement and correction, this kind of love, real friendship will emerge and endure. But we will need to be brave enough to go there, to spend more of our conversations in the deep end.<br />
<br />
So, if you find yourself among the overwhelming majority of people without enough good friends, slow down enough to find some, make some regular time to be in the same room, fight harder to stick together longer, and then consistently press through the trivial to the more meaningful and spiritual. Pursue and keep the kinds of friends who stir your heart and life to better know and enjoy Jesus Christ.</div>Kathyyee