The man (07/11/13)

As to the man himself, there is somewhat more certainty as to the person of Luke, although much must remain speculative. He is not directly involved in the unfolding of the Gospel in these earliest years of which he writes, although he has clear involvement in later developments as the faith spread out through the nations. But, at present, the study pertains to the gospels, and as such, coverage of Luke, the man need not be particularly extensive.

It is surmised that Luke was likely a slave at one point in his life, becoming a freedman in the course of time. This is premised both on his name, which is, according to Fausset, a slave’s name, and also his profession, which was one often found employing those with such a history. At the same time, his writing reveals a man familiar with high culture. His Greek, when writing in his own particular voice, is of a polished classical style. Yet, when he is relaying material of a particularly Semitic nature, he retains the flavor of that region in his presentation. This is the mark of a skilled author. Further, we have more than sufficient evidence of his profession. Paul mentions it directly, referring to Luke as ‘the beloved physician’. His interests in healing and humanity more generally is also reflected in his selection of material to present regarding the ministry of Jesus. This also shows in the use of terms specific to the arts of the physician as he describes the occasions of Jesus healing the sick.

By many, it is supposed that he was native to Antioch, meeting Christianity in general and Paul specifically in that place. But the ISBE notes that this is not a certainty, only a supposition. There is some suggestion that he was the brother of Titus, which the ISBE indicates has a reasonable amount of support. As to his activities as a Christian, we know quite clearly that he spent a good portion of his time in Philippi. This shows in his coverage of events in the book of Acts, where he shifts into first person during coverage of that phase of Paul’s journeys. From that account, it seems he met up with Paul in Troas. Whether this was their first meeting or a later crossing of paths cannot be said with certainty, although one might point to the fact that he does not write from the first person perspective when covering Paul’s commissioning for missionary service in Antioch. All that aside, he goes to Philippi with Paul and Silas and, according to Acts 16:40, remains there when those two depart. Later, in Acts 20:3, we see that he is still in Philippi when those two return. His time ministering in Philippi can also be sensed in his glowing description of the progress in faith made by those of that city. Later years find him accompanying Paul, particularly during the periods of that Apostle’s imprisonment. As to his end, Christian legend holds that Luke, too, died a martyr’s death.

Overview (07/11/13)

Turning to the Gospel that Luke has provided for us, we learn from his own introduction that he has done a great deal of research prior to writing, and that he has sought, as best he may, to present the details of these years in chronological order. This is certainly a departure from what we find with Matthew and Mark, Matthew particularly being inclined towards a more topical organization in his presentation. I have to say that in my own efforts to align the several accounts together, I have not seen this to be the case, finding rather that the sequence of events presented by Matthew and Mark does, for the most part, seem to be in order of occurrence. That said, one comes to the central portions of Luke’s Gospel and must consider whether he has lied to us at the outset, simply failed his efforts in spectacular fashion, or is presenting events that ought not to be construed as identical to those of Matthew and Mark. In my efforts, I have tended to associate his ‘variant’ presentations with their seeming parallels. But, it is pointed out that what he presents could just as easily be different occasions on which similar events transpired around Jesus, leading to similar teachings being delivered by Him. It would hardly surprise, after all, to learn that a skilled teacher used his best lessons repeatedly. While we tend to view Jesus as pulling immediate inspiration for His message from surrounding events, and this may very well be the case, this does not preclude Him having a mental library of such messages from which to draw, should the same sort of setting present itself.

As to the nature of Luke’s investigations, there is no reason to suppose he did not have Mark’s account available for reference. If, as is posited in theological circles, there was also a collection of the sayings of Jesus in circulation, this would also be likely to be available for Luke’s use. There is much to his account that points to him receiving material from Paul, as well. Here, it must be recognized that Paul, not being one who was ‘with Him from the beginning’ would necessarily have had his information by way of direct and special revelation from Christ Jesus Himself. The article in Fausset’s makes much of this point, and provides several indications of this Pauline source. Logic itself would seem to dictate that Luke would have learned much directly from Paul, as it seems clear Paul was the one through whom he came to faith, and was a close companion for many years.

It also seems probable that Luke had personal interview with Mary, or at the very least, with quite close associates of hers. This shows, particularly, in the material presenting the birth of Christ. The story is told from Mary’s perspective, and gives us insights into her own response to these most shocking and marvelous events. She reveals her inner thoughts, which is not a thing that was likely to be common knowledge, but rather the sort of thing she would speak of only with those she particularly trusted.

Overall, though, Luke demonstrates in his writing the ‘cosmopolitan spirit of Paul’. As the ISBE says it, “He comes to the interpretation of Jesus from a world-standpoint and does not have to overcome the Pharisaic limitations incident to one reared in Palestine.” If Matthew writes to the Jews and Mark to the Romans, it seems Luke presents us with Jesus as Savior not just of Israel, but of the whole world. I’ll pursue that somewhat more in the next section, but it is so much a part of his presentation that it deserves to be emphasized early and often. This, too, is a reflection of Paul. Paul, missionary to the Gentiles, necessarily shows Jesus in this light. And, I would note, this must have come as a particular shock to him, schooled as he was in the exclusive sense of owning God, as it were, which was the common religious understanding of his time. If, then, so amazing a shift in perspective was forced upon him by the very God He thought so exclusively Jewish, how much this must have flavored his message! It’s clear from the writings we have from Paul that this was the case. It is also clear from the pen of Luke, his dear companion.

One other aspect of Luke’s Gospel which deserves mention up front is that he would seem to present the prayer life of Jesus with more development and detail than the others. Granted, John gives us lengthy coverage of that prayer we speak of as the High Priestly prayer. But, Luke gives us a more consistent sense of Jesus praying often and earnestly throughout the course of His ministry, and even, if seen indirectly, in His childhood.

I find this aspect particularly interesting given the side-study I had done on the role of the prophet in the New Testament. This is a matter of which, in terms of Scripture, we have Paul’s teachings to guide us exclusively. I recall, from that effort, that there is a view in theological circles which holds that the prophet’s office, as Paul would have known it, was one of prayer. It was not so much the foretelling of events, or even the ‘Thus sayeth the Lord’ aspect which so strikes our eyes in the Old Testament. It was prayer. It was, one supposes, an intercessory office, besieging the throne of heaven on behalf of the church. But, it was also, I suspect, an office more familiar to those Old Testament officers, one of hearing from God on behalf of the church. If this theory of the prophetic office holds, then prayer was a matter of great concern to the early church, and to that Apostle we are most familiar with in regard to establishing that church. He lists the prophet’s office second only to that of the Apostle. If, then, the Apostles were bearers of the special revelation, the guardians of sound doctrine revealed by Christ Himself, the prophets were a near-equal safeguard to the family of God, maintaining, as they did, the close bonds of communication and communion with God. If they were entrusted with what we would perceive as special revelation or if they were merely men particularly attuned to a kingdom mentality, their position in Paul’s sense of church organization makes clear that teaching and prayer are the principle matters of this life of faith in community. Sound teaching and devotion to prayer: These are the lifeblood of the Church of God. These are the things without which His people starve. Neither one will suffice without the other, and I’m not sure we ought even to suggest that one has priority over the other. They are equal as to their importance, their absolute necessity, to a living, vibrant faith.

Characteristics (07/12/13-07/14/13)

Beyond those things already noted, there are certain characteristics to Luke’s gospel which particularly set it apart from the others. One of the first we come across is his interest in the supernatural aspect of events. We see this in the angelic involvement at critical moments. Gabriel comes to inform Zacharias of John’s birth (Lk 1:19), and Mary of Jesus’ birth (Lk 1:26). Then, with Jesus born and in His first bedding, “an angel of the Lord suddenly stood before” the shepherds (Lk 2:9), soon to be joined by many more.

This angelic activity resumes once more as His ministry comes to a close. As He is praying in Gethsemene, “an angel from heaven appeared to Him, strengthening Him” (Lk 22:43). A bit of an aside, but one of the articles took particular note of this, given that none of the other Evangelists make reference to any angelic visitation in the garden. This, the article suggests, is indicative of that material which Jesus gave to Paul by special revelation. The angel, after all, appeared to Him, not in a more general fashion. Indeed, if one compares to the events on the Mount of Transfiguration, it may well be that those three who were with Him were sleeping not only because of their exhaustion, but because God had put them under. Here, too, we could think back to Abraham as he made covenant with God. Continuing onward, we are presented with the angels at the tomb (Lk 24:4), informing the women who had come to bury Him that He was no longer in need of such services.

But, it is not just angels that Luke has in view. He is also particularly attuned to the activity of the Holy Spirit Himself in these events. That is a subject probably worthy of a lengthy side study of its own! Indeed, it would be worthwhile to take that on as a proper study in its own right, to observe the Holy Spirit’s involvement from start to finish through the whole of the Biblical unfolding of redemption. But, as to Luke’s Gospel, we have His presence noted, certainly, in the very conception of Jesus in His human form. “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, the power of the Most High will overshadow you; and for that reason the holy offspring shall be called the Son of God” (Lk 1:35). This is how Gabriel explained to Mary the nature of His conception in her virgin womb.

At His birth, when Jesus is brought to the temple to be dedicated according to the Law, we are introduced to Simeon who just happened to be coming along to the temple when they arrived. How is this? “The Holy Spirit was upon Him” (Lk 2:25-27). This same Holy Spirit had revealed to him that he would see the Christ before he passed away. And, it was “in the Spirit” that he had come to the temple when he did. Here, even if we did not have the Old Testament to consider, we would have sufficient information to tell us that the Holy Spirit, while not yet ‘given’ in the sense that He was at Pentecost, was very much present and active in the lives of mankind prior to that point. Indeed, He has been active since the first day of creation. He was intimately involved in the design and manufacture of the temple of God when it was but a tent. He is most assuredly just as intimately involved in the design and manufacture of these temples of flesh! How could it be otherwise?

The most famous involvement of the Holy Spirit in this period of earthly ministry by Jesus was at His baptism. While Luke does not take the care that John does to explain why Jesus was baptized, and John’s reticence to baptize this sole member of humanity who had no need of it, what Luke does keep front and center is the fact that ‘the Holy Spirit descended upon Him’ (Lk 3:22). Indeed, in that moment, we are shown the Triune God present and accounted for. Father pronounces His blessing, and His pleasure in Son, Who is there in the waters of baptism, and there is the Spirit who, though insubstantial in His nature, is yet visible ‘in bodily form like a dove’, giving those present a visual marker of God’s involvement in all that is happening. By every available sense, those who witness this event are given to know that “This is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes” (Ps 118:23).

To this catalog of supernatural coverage we could add all the miracles and all the healings and deliverances that are noted during the three years of active ministry. But, more than that, we are also treated to the events of His resurrection. In particular, there is the description of His return to the upper room where the disciples had locked themselves in. No, we can go back a bit earlier, to witness those two on the Emmaus road who, though walking with Him and listening to Him for hours, were prevented from recognizing Him right up to that moment when He broke bread with them and spoke a blessing over it (Lk 24:20-32). But, later, even as the group is gathered back in Jerusalem talking about the strange and wonderful events of the day, not yet believing what they were being told, even though Peter himself had reported seeing Jesus, there He is, of a sudden, standing in that locked room together with them.

Shocked and afraid? You bet! Try it for yourself. You are in your house, in full knowledge that every entrance has been locked up for the night. You have not so much as heard a sound, and suddenly, here is this man you thought was dead standing by your side! Tell me just how noble and elegant a response you would have to such a thing. But, it doesn’t stop there. He has, by all appearances, just walked right on through the door, or the wall, or whichever quite solid surface He happened to have chosen for ingress, and yet, in order to convince them of His degree of real being, He calls on them to give Him some food to eat (Lk 24:41). And, this is more amazing still! Oh, one could explain His entry to the fact that this was but His shade, His ghost. But, what shade or ghost ever took sustenance? How could a being of pure spirit be expected to consume solid food? This was proof positive that He was something more, that while He was spirit, yet He was man. And this is, in the end, the most stunningly supernatural part of the entire narrative.

How it must have amazed the physician, how hard it must have been for him to accept. And yet, Luke, who has set out to carefully sort and sift all the stories so as to retain only what was true, is the one who presents us with this picture, and particularly with that detail about eating. Somehow he was convinced of the truth of this. I think it would have taken more than mere accounts from the witnesses to convince him. I think it would take more than Paul’s or even Peter’s assertion of these things as facts. Given that Luke was Paul’s companion for many years, though, and served an interim period in a church Paul had established, it strikes me that Luke found himself with what may well have been the most charismatically endowed of the Apostles. Certainly, Paul makes more of these proofs of the Spirit’s involvement than the others, and after all, he had more need of such confirmation of his own validity.

But, the point I arrive at is that this association with Paul would have given Luke ample reason to accept such supernatural involvement, however much it may have been at odds with his medical training. Was he, prior to this point, one who fully believed the mythology of his native culture? Was he a full-blown pagan, or had his training left him rather more skeptical of such tales? We don’t know. We can ask him when we get home. But, whatever his prior experience, travels with Paul had most thoroughly and permanently altered his views. And part of that alteration was a keen awareness, even a fascination, with the supernatural aspect of the whole business of heaven come to earth.

Yet, in spite of this fascination, Luke retains a very human eye towards his subject. It is Luke, for example, who is most consistent in presenting the women who were not just observers of the ministry, but active participants. Indeed, in some ways it seems he shows us the women as having outstripped the men in matters of faith and belief. What was it in Luke’s history and make up that led to such an interest in the role women had played in the ministry? I don’t have an answer for that, nor would speculation get me very far. Whatever the reason, though, Luke – or more properly, the Holy Spirit through Luke – saw fit to make sure that their part in this was made known.

Thus, we have Luke covering not only Mary’s activities in bearing and raising Jesus, but also her cousin Elizabeth who bore John the Baptist (Lk 1). Later, as he tells us of those who recognized Messiah at or near His birth, we have Anna (Lk 2:36-38). Interestingly, Luke lists her genealogy, identifying her as being of the tribe of Asher. This goes back to the point made about him retaining the Jewish flavor of the material he worked from for these early narratives. But, note also: She is a woman of sound faith, always at temple, always praying, always serving. She is the very model of that sort of leader Jesus would later teach His disciples to be.

Luke is also the one to tell us that there were several women who accompanied Jesus and the disciples as they went about Galilee. Jesus was preaching, the Twelve were accompanying, and then there was this group of women ‘who had been healed of evil spirits and sicknesses’ (Lk 8:2). Chief amongst these is Mary of Magdala. Her prominence in the list is assigned to the degree of deliverance she had experienced. But, others in the list are women of means, and they were contributing to the support of His ministry from their funds. Some of these women we will hear more about as things unfold. Others are mentioned but the one time. And, isn’t that something in itself? He tells us of Susanna, about whom nothing in particular is said other than that she was there. She is not mentioned again. Yet, her name is immortalized by God’s choice for this simple fact of being in the company of the Son.

Later, Luke introduces us to Martha and Mary (Lk 10:38), who would play such a large role in hosting Jesus during His visits to Jerusalem. Luke does not cover that aspect of their role, though, which is somewhat surprising. John will tell us of their involvement in later events (Jn 11, Jn 12). But, Luke provides us with the earliest introduction, if I have arranged things correctly. What is particularly noteworthy in Luke’s presentation of the two is that once more, the woman is set forth as model for the man. Mary is praised for having focused on that one good thing, listening to Him. Martha was working, but Mary was learning, and this He praises. It is obvious, given the commissioning of the Apostles, that He does not intend to inform us that we ought not be bothered with working. Not at all! But, there must be a proper prioritization. To work is good. But, we might bring in the well-known line from the Psalms at this point: Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build at all (Ps 127:1). Martha, by her frustration, demonstrates that she was building without Him. Mary, by her attentiveness, will build well indeed when once she starts building.

Nearing the end of his account, Luke includes a reprise of sorts, with the return of those women he had introduced back in chapter 8. Here, they are joined by others who were able to make this final journey down to Jerusalem. This, at least, is the way things are often explained. They were accustomed to joining Him as He went through Galilee, but had needed to remain nearer to home when He went into Judea. But, it seems to me that His time in Judea was associated with the times of the high holy days, the feasts in Jerusalem which all were required to attend. So, would they not naturally have been traveling there anyway? It may be somewhat odd that they would travel with this rabbi rather than with family, but surely the destination was wholly expected. Be that as it may, they are there to witness the conclusion.

They are there, having witnessed many of the best days of ministry, to witness what would be, in human terms, the worst. In truth, it was the greatest day, the day in which all that this ministry had labored for would be achieved: Redemption drew nigh! But, in the moment, they did not know this. What they knew was that their beloved Rabboni had been arrested on trumped up charges, condemned to death by a beleaguered foreign governor, and now hung bleeding and broken on a cross, sentenced as the most despicable of criminals Who had done no crime at all (Lk 23:27). Of course, they were mourning. How could they not? Here was one who had earned their devotion many times over, asking nothing of them in return. Yet, they had given, and we can be certain His gratitude for that support was expressed. The bonds had only grown stronger over the last few years. Never was there anything in it in the least way inappropriate or suggestive. No. It was not like that, and that, too, may have amplified their commitment. Now, He is dead, and they are, surprisingly, not at a loss.

Here we have perhaps the most stunning demonstration of Luke’s unique perspective. The Apostles, the leaders chosen by Christ Himself to continue the work, are in total disarray. Peter has outright denied even knowing Jesus, let alone being part of His ministry. The others are scattered and in hiding, with the exception of John, whom we find at the side of the cross taking Mary into his care when Jesus so commands him as He is dying. But, that falls to John to tell us. Of the other disciples, we see no sight at all. They seem to have been most thoroughly scattered by events in the garden and following. But, the women are there! Mary of Magdala is there. Joanna is there, whom we had met back in chapter 8. There were others, as well, perhaps locals from Jerusalem who came out to mourn Him (Lk 23:27), for He addresses them as ‘daughters of Jerusalem’. But it was the ‘women who had come with Him out of Galilee’ who remained to witness where He was lain, having been taken down off the cross (Lk 23:55).

Their response to all this was, if one of deepest sorrow, also one of simple duty. They saw that he was put in the tomb without the proper preparations, so they departed to prepare what should be prepared, the spices and performs with which He ought rightly to be wrapped in death. Now, we know from other accounts that Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus had in actuality already seen to this work. But they, obedient to God even in this trying time and therefore retired for the Sabbath, did not see those two men return to dress the body properly. And thus, by God’s providence and planning, they were not only last to depart Him in death, but first to be back at the tomb when the Sabbath had passed (Lk 24:1). Thus, they are granted to meet the angels before even His closest disciples. Thus, they are given to bear news to those disciples that their Master is not dead after all, but very much alive!

The accounts of their actions at this point are conflicting. Mark suggests that in spite of instructions to the contrary, they told nobody. Matthew tells us of their encounter with the risen Lord Himself as they made their way back. Luke tells us that they did indeed report to the Apostles, even naming names. “They were Mary Magdalene and Joanna and Mary mother of James; also the other women” (Lk 24:10). But these three particularly are named. Mary Magdalene’s part is explained (or perhaps made more confusing) by John’s account. My sense of it is that she was so overwhelmed by the sight of the open tomb that she ran back for the men before she had a chance to hear the angelic message which the others heard. But, she was running, and together with Peter and John came running back, even as the others were returning by an apparently different path. They, having met Jesus on the way back, would be later in arriving. It became, it seems to me, a case of ships passing in the night. But, this, too, was the outworking of God’s carefully planned providence, allowing both Mary and Peter their personal, private moments with Jesus before the excitement of His visit to the upper room.

One last theme I would pursue in Luke’s account before turning to some more particular observations is that of inclusion. This is a perfectly natural focus for one who was himself goyem, and who had served with the apostle to the Gentiles. He being such a benefactor of the all-inclusive nature of the Gospel, it is to be expected that he tends to notice those points in the account of Christ’s ministry which early on made that inclusiveness evident. While there are many instances one could point to, my attention is drawn to chapters 14 and 15. In these chapters, we are provided with a great deal of the teaching which Jesus was giving during this phase of ministry. It is a period when His conflict with the Pharisees was becoming more pronounced. What I find to be a thread running through His lessons in this section is the idea that the ones who thought themselves insiders will be left out, and the ones thought to be beyond hope of inclusion will indeed be included.

Here, for example, is the parable given regarding seating at dinner (Lk 14:8-11), and who to invite: The poor, the crippled, and so on; all of whom could not possibly repay the kindness (Lk :14-12-14). Then, of course, there is the parable of the wedding guests (Lk 14:16-24). This one is particularly pertinent, as the guests who should have been there decline their invitations, and are therefore replaced by those same, most down-trodden (and by the Pharisaic view, obviously sinful) people around. And, I might note, they are compelled to come in. Moving into chapter 15, we see the parables regarding the kingdom’s perspective of valuing the one lost over the many found (Lk 15:4-10), of the Prodigal Son, with its clear allusion to the Pharisees as being represented by the older, unforgiving brother (Lk 15:11-32).

That last would have been of particular importance to Luke, and to tall those to whom Paul was ministering. If this is the God of Israel, the God of your people, Paul, where are your people? But, here in the parable the answer is provided by God Himself. Theirs was the birthright, and they had right and use of all that belonged to God (which is, after all, everything). But, they had not their Father’s spirit, their Father’s heart. The younger son had gone far astray, yes. And this might well be set as the picture of the whole of the Gentile world. From Adam we all sprang, but most of his progeny had gone far from the God who created him, had rejected Him and insisted on squandering their birthright. How marvelous, how incredible (in the true sense of the word), that this God they had rejected wanted them back, welcomed them back, even celebrated when they returned!

Later, we have Jesus not teaching, but ministering in more physical ways. Ten lepers come for healing and receive it, although in this case, it is not an immediate thing. Rather, Jesus requires obedience of them. “Go show yourselves to the priests” (Lk 17:14). It is only as they go that they find themselves healed. And how do they react to this? The majority, all but one, just continue on their way. Only that one returns to give thanks to the Healer. Luke ends with what is, really, a rather solemn note: “And he was a Samaritan” (Lk 17:16). I really do think Luke intends that pronoun to be stressed. Otherwise, the comment is but a non sequitur. Instead, we have Jesus commenting on this point. “Was no one found who turned back to give glory to God, except this foreigner?” (Lk 17:18).

It is somewhat ominous, as concerns the other nine, that He then tells this one to go for his faith has made him well. Was it but a test whereby the other nine, having failed, will discover their apparent healing has dissipated before they reach the priests? We cannot know. While it would seem a fitting conclusion, given His words to the Samaritan, it would also seem counter to His own purposes to send nine lepers to the priests only to complain that His miracles were but temporary things.

As I noted, this particular sensitivity to those aspects of ministry which pointed to the outbound nature of the Gospel should be expected to catch Luke’s attention. One need but consider the record of Paul’s missionary journeys to see how critical this aspect of the message would be. In each town he entered, we are told, Paul went first to the synagogue, first to that chosen people who were his own countrymen. And here, he was almost universally rejected and decried as a heretic or worse. Well, then, the Gentiles must wonder: If his own countrymen reject his declamations about this God he preaches, what reason have we to give him and credence? After all, his message sounds pretty nonsensical anyway. If his own people aren’t buying it, we would be fools to do so.

But, here in the message of the Gospel (and in truth, in the message of Scripture start to finish), lay the answer. Yes, God chose this people. Yes, He made lengthy and particular outreach to them. But, they blew it. They did not want Him. They wanted to look more like you, even though they profess to despise you. The fact is they were given the same mission which Paul was now pursuing, but they refused it. Rather than make God known to the nations, to bring light into the darkness, they preferred to horde the light and their God to themselves. “You’re not good enough.” This was their view of all the nations apart from Israel. For the Pharisees, that same view colored their perception of most of their fellow countrymen, and even, to a degree, their opinions of each other. I am holier than you, just look at my practices! I daren’t associate with you, for you might spoil my purity. But, the Gospel Paul preached demonstrated a holiness sufficiently powerful as to spoil the impurity, to reverse the corruption, to reach the unreachable, and save the unsalvageable. Indeed, it demonstrated that this was and ever is the whole point: I didn’t come to seek the saved, but the lost. It is not the healthy who have so great a need of the Physician, but the sick. Oh, Israel! You will always have a place in God’s eye. But, it is become a place for tears, as He watches His prodigal people wander off yet again. Oh! But, even Paul saw this – or maybe, especially Paul: Even this long eviction will come to an end. Even in this, there is a remnant. Even in this situation, the season of the Gentiles will reach its conclusion, and God’s attention will return once more to restoring His people.

Many today, I think, press this too hard. But, then, many neglect that clear message of Scripture as well. In truth, I think we must perceive it much as Paul did in his own day: There is neither Greek nor Jew (Ro 10:12), slave nor free, neither male nor female (Gal 3:28). Even uncircumcised barbarians, Scythians are welcomed and included (Col 3:11). Isn’t it something that these lists, though they differ, always begin with that greatest of distinctions in Jewish thought: Greek or Jew? It doesn’t matter. The Gospel has removed the separation. Why, then, do we so often want to put it back? It has no place. I do not even begin to suppose that God, when this current ‘age of the Gentiles’ comes to a close, has any intention of going backwards. He is unlikely to reinstitute the sacrificial system which His Son so eloquently brought to its ultimate conclusion. Neither is He likely to separate that which He has joined together. If He hates divorce, why then would anybody suppose He intends to segregate Jew and Gentile having once declared them one? It is, and ought to be, unthinkable.

Observations (07/15/13-02/22/13)

What follows from here are comments upon various verses that caught my eye as I read through Luke once more here at its closing. With few exceptions, I do not find a particular theme to these verses. Some are simply verses that really registered with me as I studied them. Others, even after all this time, seem as though I’m actually reading them for the first time, or only now noticing some specific aspect. So, then: Off I go.

The first verse that I touch on here is from the words Gabriel spoke to Mary when informing her of the coming birth. She had asked, not out of faithfulness but as seeing her own limits, how she was to bear a child if she had never lain with a man. In responding, we hear Gabriel say, “For nothing will be impossible with God” (Lk 1:37). That (and most other quotations in this section) comes from the NASB. Indeed, as I roll through the first several translations, I see this is a very consistent form of his words. The NET does offer a note as to the emphatic position of the term ‘nothing’. They note that this position gives it emphasis ‘as the lesson of the entire discussion’.

It is intriguing that this ‘nothing’ is a phrase built upon the term rhema, a term very familiar to those from a charismatic background. Oh! It’s a rhema word! It’s a word for today, for now and in this specific situation. It’s on a par with prophecy. Such is the general charismatic perception of the term. Whether this is a fair and accurate understanding is another question entirely. In the phrase we have here, with the negating article ouk, the meaning is indeed to be taken as nothing whatsoever. Without exception. You cannot find a word which shall describe something which is impossible with God.

So, what we have in nothing is ouk pan reema: Absolutely not any word. What draws this passage to the forefront of my recognition of God’s being, though, lies in recollection of this formulation as indicating that the very concept embodied in ‘impossible’ loses all meaning when it is brought into association with God. It simply cannot be applied to Him. It goes beyond being an oxymoron. God and impossible are just mutually exclusive terms. Here, then, is the reverse of the statement that, “With God all things are possible” (Mt 19:26). All things are possible, in part, because the very concept of impossibility dissipates in His presence.

How easy it is to grasp the wonder of this, and yet how difficult to internalize! We are swift to see the impossibilities. I have just been through a week of facing situations in which it was impossible that one should arrive at a viable solution which would truly serve all involved. Oy! Shepherd of God’s sheep, and here in this first real test, all I see is impossibility. But, nothing is impossible for God! And all things are possible with Him! How soon I forget. How soon I fall back on my own understanding, my own trifling wisdom.

But, I remember well when I first soaked up this message of Mary’s day of visitation. It lead to song, although one I do not hear all that often. But, the truth of it does sink deep. “When I’m with You, when I’m where You said to be… All things are possible with You.” It is that tension we live in as believers. With Him, in His will, all things are possible. Apart from Him, and particularly apart from Christ, we can do nothing. Paul develops this thought to the point of noting that it is in Him, and only in Him, that we live, that we are capable of motion, that we even draw breath (Ac 17:28). In that, he but echoes the psalmists, who noted the cataclysmic results, should God turn His back on creation for but the briefest moment.

But, what strength there is for us if we will but remember: All things are possible with Him. The situation is not insoluble, for we do not labor in our own weakness, but in His strength. Impossible? No, no. There are, to set aside the foolish argument of unbelief, myriad things He will not do. One can, I suppose, posit something so logically inconsistent, so utterly inane, as to appear as a boundary to this. But, it is only a boundary in our own thinking. Even the idea of God creating a rock that even He could not move. Impossible? In our comprehension yes. In His? I have to say no. Yet, He will not do so. It would be pointless, and God is never pointless.

Certainly, for all practical intents and purposes, the statement stands: “Impossible does not apply here.” Oh, it looms large in our thoughts. How shall I ever? What least possibility is there that I can? The situation is hopeless. We’re doomed. These are like drum beats and bass lines through our days, as we repeatedly face things that are beyond our skills. Perhaps I only speak for myself here, but so it seems to me as often as not. But, this is only misconception, or perhaps an early warning that we have departed from where we ought to be. Let us look to the Vine! Let us look to our connection to the Vine! Are we with Him? For, we know with certainty that He is with us! We continue to breathe, do we not? He is here, then. Are we with Him, or going it on our own? If we are with Him, then nothing will be impossible.

As I say, easy to understand, difficult to live out. But, oh! May we cease from being satisfied with the possible. Oh! May we recognize this aspect of the God we serve, and go from strength to strength.

[07/16/13] The next item I have before me is to do with the genealogy of Jesus as presented by Luke. It is commonly pointed out that he presents the lineage of Mary, in keeping with his tendency to promote the role of the women in the Gospel. But, what really caught my eye was the terminus of his list. At the end, we arrive at “Adam, the son of God” (Lk 3:38). Does this trouble you? It does me, after a fashion, because we are taught the indisputable truth that Jesus, the Messiah, the only possible Redeemer, was the only begotten of the Father. Yet, here is Adam, being declared the son of God. Certainly, he being the direct creation of God, there could be no other to whom he might point as his father. But, it seems almost wrong to construe him as a son of God.

It may be that Luke is attempting to reflect some of Paul’s teaching here, regarding the first Adam versus the last Adam. Both were in some sense children of God, the one as the capstone of Creation, the other as the eternally begotten person of the Trinity. They may, then, share the label of son, and the clearly share the responsibility of standing as federal head over all whom they represent, Adam over all humanity, Jesus over all the elect. But, beyond that, there is far more that distinguishes the two, even if we set aside the outcome of their representative efforts.

Yet, by the Spirit’s leading, Luke assigns this honor to Adam. He is a son of God. We are all, in some respect, sons of God, even the most unrepentant of sinners. If we wish to stretch the point a bit, I suppose we could include all animal life under that head. But, here, it may well be that Luke’s whole intent is to end on the surprising note. I am mindful that he is not writing for a Jewish audience per se, so there would not be an inherent concern with genealogies such as an audience of that background would have. It’s for the Greeks he writes, so why a genealogy at all? What could all these names possibly mean to that culture? What would they know of Israel’s kings, let alone of Enosh, Seth and Adam? Is he trying to put the arrival of Jesus in a setting more comfortable for the mythologically inclined folks back home? No, I cannot assign him such motive. We have already read that his writing here reflects the Hebraic sources from which he has drawn his material. He is in the role of recording and relaying a folk tale, as it were.

I think of those recordings one hears from time to time, coming out of the Library of Congress. They have had their projects of going out to record the voices of true American folk music. Their purpose has been to relay those voices in their true form, not as prettied up in accordance with some modern producer’s sensibilities, not ‘as performed by’, but in their raw, unmodified original form. It seems that Luke does something of the same nature here, perhaps not unmodified, but kept as near to the original as possible for translation.

So, then, it might be that Mary, who must surely have been his source for her own lineage (who else would even have bothered?), had herself arrived at this way of thinking about it. But, why? She already knew the child’s father was the Father. If anybody on earth could know this beyond all doubt, it was she! Joseph may have had some nagging doubts, and surely tongues wagged in the neighborhood, but she knew. Did she, in that assurance of knowledge, tend to transfer God’s patriarchal role back to the start? Or, perhaps this was Paul’s influence on Luke’s understanding. Certainly, Adam plays a large role in Paul’s argumentation for the Gospel, and Luke doubtless became very familiar with that line of reasoning in spite of his unfamiliarity with Jewish culture and history. This may have led him to add that final clause himself.

Perhaps Mary had found it sufficient to chase the line back to Judah, which would have been the critical point from her perspective. He is of the kingly tribe, and therefore suited to be King. But, Luke, with his friend’s relative unfamiliarity as to things Hebraic in mind, may have thought it helpful to continue the path back from Jacob to Adam. Theophilus could, one supposes, refer to his text of the Mosaic writings to discern who all these men were. But, Luke, again reflective of Paul’s influence, goes one step beyond. He goes back to ‘in the beginning’, and finds Adam there, birthed by the creative breath of God. Yes. We can see Adam as His son, in that light.

It occurs to me at this moment that there is something here which reflects the Parable of the Prodigal Son. It’s hardly a precise fit, but there are aspects to be seen. Adam departs the home of his Father, and in him we have the whole of humanity gone off into debauchery. Meanwhile, there remains Jesus, whose is the birthright, who shares in all that the Father has, remaining faithfully with the Father. The parallel fails, of course, in that this older brother, our older brother, went forth to bring the wayward son home. But, it’s a curiosity, if nothing else.

Now, I’m going to jump forward a few chapters, and consider the scene of the Twelve being chosen. Prior to introducing us to the list of their names, Luke makes a point of presenting us with the preparation Jesus made before choosing. “He spent the whole night in prayer to God” (Lk 6:12). I am tempted to hear a bit of hyperbole in that statement, but I’m not so sure. If it were said of any other, I should find the thought completely unbelievable, but this is Jesus. Yes, He has shorn Himself of all His godly prerogatives, yet He remains the Son of God even as He is the Son of Man. If there is one in all history who could manage such a length of prayer it is He. And He would. Here was the laying of the foundation. His choices at this point would affect the whole of the Church He was beginning to establish.

Think about that, for just a moment. The issue over which He is praying is nothing less than that very thing. He will, after all, achieve the salvation of the elect by His own work, by His own life sacrificed. But, there remains the work to follow. As Mark had said, this was the beginning of the Gospel. The Good News must continue, must go forth, after He has made it good. And that task will fall to these twelve – well, to eleven of them. The other, as He knew even in this time of prayer, served a different purpose, but still His purpose.

So, it is surely fitting that He gave this so much prayerful attention. Father, have I indeed found the ones You set for this purpose? He might even have been asking, is this all I get? If the Pharisees had their reaction of incredulity about the likes of Peter and James becoming religious leaders, isn’t it just possible that Jesus might (in His humanness) have found it a little implausible, too? This is what You’re giving Me to work with? OK. But, I’d want a high degree of certainty before I committed to this course.

He spent the whole night. He spent it in prayer. He did not fall asleep. He did not spend the following day lolling about in an exhausted daze. If we follow Luke’s presentation, He went straight on to one of the major teaching events of His ministry, and that after a lengthy period of healing those who came to Him. And, I will note, those He was healing are specifically identified as “those who were troubled with unclean spirits” (Lk 6:18). So, then, a sleepless night of prayer and straight into battle! Hardly the standard procedure with man. But, what a lesson for those He sends forth today!

What a lesson for me! For, this is a week for battle – battle not against flesh and blood, but against forces of spiritual darkness. This is a week for events so far and away beyond my abilities as to require God be in it, else I surely fail. There is, there can be, no thought of being able to deal with these things in my own strength, by my own wisdom and experience. Nope. If there were any thought of that at the start of the week, it’s fully dissipated at this point. And, no doubt, there remains plenty which will burn away any remaining shreds of pride and ego that may remain in me.

I am, again now for the second day running, touched by the providential aspect of how these passages are coming up for my consideration. I was not all that certain I wanted to spend the time on this lengthy sidebar, for I grow rather anxious to wrap up this long journey through the Gospels. But, as yesterday, so today: The particulars of what He has caused to come before my eyes this morning, God has caused to be here for such a time as this. Yesterday was the reminder that it is with Him that impossibility is burst asunder, made a meaningless concept, a word with no definition. Today, the reminder is for the need to pray. Oh! That need has been quite evident to me already. But, somehow, need has not successfully translated to deed.

Lord, I pray therefore, at the outset, that You would so work and will in me that I might heed this reminder, and find time to pray rather than to pursue the many distractions with which I surround myself. I pray that those with whom I serve would likewise avail themselves of the restorative power of prayer. I am mindful, as I think about this, that it seems so often that it is in our moments of greatest trial that prayer becomes most impossible to us. Yet, that is exactly our place of need! You know this. And, I think I can say with confidence that in those moments when prayer becomes so difficult for us, You are yet in us, praying on our behalf, hearing Your own prayers for us, and assuredly answering.

Right at this moment, I am inclined to pray that old soldier’s prayer of Kipling’s. “God of our fathers, known of old – Lord of our far-flung battle line – Beneath whose awful Hand we hold dominion over palm and pine – Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget, lest we forget!” Yes, Lord. We are not defenders of some earthly realm, fighting to preserve the borders. We are not in battle over palm and pine, but over Your house, over Your children. We are in battle in Your service for Your kingdom. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, and let us not forget where the true battle line lies. Let us not forget that You are riding at the forefront, that You have already defeated the enemy. But, let us neither forget that this same defeated enemy still roams about, a roaring lion seeking its prey. God be with us, God guide us, God grant that we neither speak nor do nor even think other than as You would have it. And yes, Lord, grant that I would be mindful to continue in prayer as the day progresses, as opportunity affords. All these technological gadgets are but distractions from the job at hand. Grant that I may be faithful to the job.

I have already alluded to events which followed on this night of prayer. Jesus, having declared His choice as to those twelve men, came down from the mountain together with them and began to minister to the multitudes below, crowds come from Jerusalem and Tyre and Sidon. They had come, Luke says, to hear Him, as well as to be healed of their diseases. What I find intriguing in this instance is Luke’s statement about those who were cured. It was, he says, “those who were troubled with unclean spirits” (Lk 6:18). Notice that. It wasn’t those with a cold, those with a broken limb. It may stress Luke’s words too much, but the implication seems to be that Jesus was not acting so much as a physician in this case as He was an exorcist.

There are other occasions, as in Luke 7:21, where the list of those He cured is more inclusive. In that verse, it is “diseases and afflictions and evil spirits” that He cured. But, special note is taken of the fact that He gave sight to not just one blind man, but many. Now, the occasion described by that verse comes about because men have come from John, who is yet in Herod’s prison, because John is beginning to wonder, maybe even have his doubts. He sends his disciples to ask point blank: Are You the One?

Well, two data points hardly suffice to declare a trend, yet these are illustrative of the purposefulness of Jesus. He did not come to be a traveling healer. Could He have healed every disease, every ailment? Could He have eliminated every cause for illness? Yes. And, He will. But, this was not the time, and this was not the purpose. His purpose was to restore people on a far more critical level. As things stand, however often a man’s diseases are healed and his injuries dressed and repaired, that man is still going to the grave eventually. Even Lazarus, called out from his tomb, would be entombed once more. This should tell us something. Jesus came to give Life abundantly. He came to restore His elect for eternity, not for the duration of this fallen, physical plant of our body.

Look back across these two examples I have brought. In Luke 6:18, they had come to hear Him and be healed. To the degree that their issues were of a spiritual nature, they were cured. Why might that be? Well, it would put them in a far better place to actually hear Him when He taught. And this was a particularly rich teaching, having in it the Beatitudes, and many corrections to prevailing religious thought. In the other example of Luke 7:21, it is made clear that these cures He was affecting were to a very specific purpose. John (or his disciples) needed proof. Here was proof. Go tell John what you have just witnessed for yourself. That should settle it. He knows his Torah, he knows what has been said of Me. Behold, today, those prophecies have been fulfilled in your sight.

Even with Lazarus, we must consider not the wonder of what transpired, but why Jesus did it. What was the kingdom purpose in it? What can be said with certainty is that Jesus did not call Lazarus forth to show off. He did not do so merely to prove that He can. That proof would be forthcoming soon enough in His own return from death, compared to which this was nothing. But, Lazarus walking the streets of Jerusalem once more served a purpose. It removed any remaining legitimacy for doubt. Here was a man well known around town. The Sanhedrin knew him and his family as well. They knew he was dead. They knew how long he had been dead. Some of them, no doubt, had been out to console his sisters, and to mark his passing. Yet, here he was, live and in person, walking the streets of Jerusalem in the company of this, this Jesus!

Now what do we do? We cannot pretend this has not happened. It’s too big! Yet, we cannot let Jesus continue unchecked, else we are out of a job, if not dead men ourselves. Either the people go after Him in such numbers as renders us irrelevant, or they make such a noise that Rome comes down on us. Either way, we lose, and we will not let that happen. No. He must be brought down.

Do you see it? Lazarus restored to life, as great a marvel as this was, was not done to give him a few more years to enjoy life. Indeed, given what lay ahead, it’s not all that clear that returning was any great favor to him. Joy. I shall live to flee Jerusalem at its fall. No, that wasn’t the point. Neither was this done simply to ease the grief of Mary or Martha. It was not a personal favor. It was not payment for services rendered in their having hosted Him when He was in town. It was a much greater thing. It was for the purpose of provoking His enemies into action. The schedule required that the Sanhedrin act now, and yet, they were such a cowardly bunch that they were still hemming and hawing, and generally too concerned with protecting themselves to truly come after Him. The equation for their risk assessment needed to change, and Lazarus risen would do the trick. Thus, Lazarus came forth.

Healing, then, can be seen to be not an end in itself, as concerns the ministry of Jesus. Yes, Jesus heals. Yes, He has established that the elders who serve in His house shall pray for the sick, and they shall be healed. Yet, there are clearly bounds on that, are there not? To a man, the Apostles passed from this life. To a man, every last one over whom they ever prayed, every last one anointed by oil at their hands, has likewise passed on. This healing was never a permanent matter, nor was it to be a primary matter. It is not a power we are given to command, it is a boon we are privileged to ask of the Father, should it be His will.

It seems to me, then, that if we are pursuing His hand of healing in a given situation, we ought to do so with an eye to kingdom purpose. It is not a thing to be asked merely to see somebody enjoy a ripe old age. It is not something to be asked, even, because we feel another risks being cut off too soon. These are wrong motives, and reflect a poor grip on the character and power of God. If He has numbered our days, and He has, then there can be no ‘died too soon’. And, surely, He is not so frivolous that our failure to pray for a particular individual would cause Him to alter the number of days He has determined. Sorry, Joe. I was going to give you fourscore and ten, but your elders, they blew it. So, I’m going to have to knock you back to threescore. What can I say? They’re My servants, but I must constrain Myself in accord with their weakness.

It’s clearly nonsense to think He would act in such fashion, and yet we have many who, by their behavior, demonstrate a mindset quite similar, even if it be subconsciously. This is particularly prevalent in the faith movement, and the more extreme charismatic corners. If you are not walking in perfect health all your days, well surely it is a failure of your faith. Never mind that God’s Word tells us that even faith is a gift from Him, and is not truly our own. If it is His faith that is at work in us, how then can it fail? It cannot, for He is infallible. If it is ours, how can it ever hope to suffice, for we are not merely fallible, but wholly incapable of not failing!

And yet, we have occasions like that in Luke 8:48, wherein Jesus proclaims, “your faith has made you well.” We hear that same statement made to the one leper who came back to praise God. Yet, he had clearly been healed of his physical affliction before that point, else why would he be back in the first place? Now, we have this woman with the longstanding issue of hemorrhages. Notice Jesus’ immediate response, and how it is He took any note of this woman at all. “I was aware that power had gone out of Me” (Lk 8:46). Already done. The leper was already healed. This woman was already healed. The physical matter was dealt with. But, then, the physical matter wasn’t the part Jesus was concerned with. And, let me say, neither was it but the outward evidence of inward sin. That concept, often pushed by healing ministries today, may have some truth to it, but Jesus has already so thoroughly debunked the idea that this is a hard and fast rule, that to insist that it is should automatically mark one as a spiritual fraud.

The fact of the matter is that physical healing isn’t the point. It is never the point, for the very simple reason that physical healing must necessarily remain a temporal matter. Jesus is here in eternal business. When He speaks of faith making one well, as He does with this woman, as He did with the leper, it is not the physical malady that is in view, but the spiritual. Curing my bleeding, clearing up my skin, even restoring lost senses of sight or hearing or speech, will not suffice to justify the command to “Go in peace.” Peace is not made possible by mere physical health. The obverse also holds. Peace is not made impossible by physical malady. I have known those whose ailments were severe and permanent, so far as the skill of man could avail. Yet, these were people who went in peace. They walked with God and they knew it. I have to presume that they had firmly laid hold of that state of mind which Paul professes. “I count all this earthly trauma as nothing when measured over against the glory laid up for me in heaven.”

That’s where we need to be made well. That’s where peace is restored. When we discover that our enmity with God has been done away with, that this very faith that Jesus calls ours has come to us as a gift from Him – it’s His faith, having originated with Him and having its power in Him, but it’s our faith, for a gift once given no longer belongs to the giver, does it? This is it! We have peace because He has given us faith, because He has made us aware of His love, He has shown us His love, He has given us His love and thereby rendered us capable of truly loving. “We love Him because He first loved us” (1Jn 4:19). We have faith because He first gave us faith. We go in peace because He has given us peace. I may go with a limp, or I may go striding boldly forth, but I go in the peace of knowing that my Shepherd walks with me at every step. Yea, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I shall fear no evil. Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me (Ps 23:4). Oh! Let us never settle for any lesser source of comfort! He has given us apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers (Eph 4:11), but never as a substitute for Himself, rather to equip us and build us up (Eph 4:12). Please, don’t ever suppose I, as a teacher, as an elder, as a mere man of God, am sufficient to replace His rod and staff!

[07/18/13] How appropriate that this morning’s Table Talk discussion would end by referencing the case of the man healed by the pool of Bethesda (Jn 5:1-17). There, Jesus healed, and it happened on the Sabbath and in Jerusalem, and the religious authorities took offense at the timing. There is much else about that particular event which can be commented on, but not at this time. The point of transition for me lies in the complaint of the Pharisees. This complaint does, I believe, indicate the purpose behind the healing. I would also, in connection with yesterday’s thoughts, note the comment Jesus makes to that man. “You have become well. Don’t sin anymore, so that nothing worse may befall you” (Jn 5:14). Notice that: You are physically well, but the sin issue remains a matter for your attention. The physical event is a sign pointing to the spiritual need. And, of course, we see from the events which follow upon that admonition that indeed, the spiritual need was not attended to by this one.

But, my eyes are on the Pharisees at this moment, in that the next passage from Luke which lies before me is one which I find to be perhaps the saddest verse in the whole of the Gospel account. I speak of Luke 7:30 – “But the Pharisees and the lawyers rejected God's purpose for themselves.” This was their fatal mistake, and given who we are discussing and what their role in the administration of God’s people, it is particularly awful. Here were represented the most pious amongst the people together with those most thoroughly learned in the content of Scripture, and yet they rejected God’s purpose for themselves.

As I note above, the thing which caught my eye about this is the sad aspect of that result. What, after all, could be more sorrowful than to reject God’s purpose for oneself? And how particularly terrible when His purpose is salvation! But, as I look at this with fresh eyes this morning, I see something which stands as a great and terrible warning for our own day. The pious and the seminarians, if you will are the very ones who were rejecting God’s purpose. Now, pay that particular attention. We are not told that they failed to recognize God’s purpose. How could they? This was, after all, discussing John the Baptist with his message and his call to repent. There was no missing what he was saying. There was only open rebellion against God in rejecting his instructions. These men of Israel could have served as the forefront catalysts for a great revival in Israel. They could, at least in some sense, have greatly changed the course of history. Imagine! If those eleven men plus one were able to institute an altered course for the world, what would it have meant had these established representatives of religion joined with them?

But, they did not, and we would say that they could not. At some level, we must see that God’s plan, having been determined, is not subjected to failure by the vagaries of fallen men. They could no more have altered the result for Israel than they could have prevented the Son from completing His mission. At the same time, though, there is the clear implication in this passage that at another level, they could alter events. If they were capable of rejecting God’s purpose, surely they were capable of accepting it, at least conceptually capable, morally culpable for their decision. That last is certain. We are all of us morally culpable for our decisions. But to be culpable implies that at some level we are capable. If we have no choice, there can be no consequence. If God’s Providence is so coercive as to remove all possibility of compliance with God’s Law, then God, as the author of the Law, can hardly find fault with us for failing to comply.

At the same time, it is terrifyingly discomforting to consider that we are capable of rejecting God’s purpose for ourselves. For, just as surely as those scribes and Pharisees were able, so are we all. And that is scary indeed! It strikes at my comprehension of a sovereign God. If His Word does not return to Him void, but accomplishes all that He purposes, how can it be that I could reject His purposes? Ah! But, perhaps in that very stating of the conundrum lies the answer. His purpose shall be fulfilled, if not through the one who rejects. Does this not answer the problem? We may, on an individual or even a corporate level, act as these representatives did, rejecting His purpose for ourselves. He had, as Paul indicates, set those things out for us to do, had created us for the purpose of doing them. Yet, we have the choice of whether we shall fulfill our purpose, or whether His purpose shall be done by another. Viewed in that light, we might say that Adam himself was in the same situation. He had the choice and he chose poorly. He became morally culpable for his failure, and in him we all became morally culpable for failure. But, God’s purpose was not thwarted, nor even altered. He is, after all, all knowing and all wise, and He was/is fully aware of Adam’s fall, just as He was/is aware of Jesus’ ultimate stand. His purpose was not thwarted in Adam, but in a sense initiated. For, Christ in His office as Redeemer Savior was known before Adam, just as we are known before Adam. Were we not thus known, I don’t suppose his sin could have been thus made our responsibility. Were He not thus known, the whole plan becomes nothing more than freak coincidence, and that is not even conceivable.

But, let me return to the personal point: If these men were capable of rejecting God’s purpose when it had been laid out so plainly before their eyes, what prevents me from following their course? If these men, the most pious and learned in matters of faith and religion, were incapable of perceiving the way of righteousness, how great a risk is before me! And, how great a warning this verse provides.

All that outward action of religion, all the shouts of praise, the offering of prayers, faithful attendance at church, and continual attention to all that church requires; it is no guarantee. All this time spent studying His word, and even were I to take up a more scholarly approach, learning to parse the original languages more thoroughly, becoming familiar with every nuance of the language and the culture, trained up in the skills of exegesis and homiletics; it is no guarantee that I would fare any better than these men did. And isn’t that in perfect keeping with the message Jesus came to deliver? It is not the outward, but the inward. All of these acts may serve the good, but the acts are not good in themselves. Good habits alone do not establish good character, and we fully grasp the truth that the very best of our acts will never suffice to salvific effect for ourselves, let alone any other. By works is no man saved, for it is by our works that we are all condemned men before the Law. It is by grace, grace alone, and only grace as it is applied by God and according to His plan. It is in that moment that we are even made able to accede to His purpose. But, even then, the moral hazard remains.

Salvation is made sure, of this I am certain. If it is His doing, it cannot fail, as it surely would were it my own. Yet the certainty of salvation does not remove the capability for sin, as any believer in any age must surely attest. Salvation does not remove the rebel heart in a moment. It removes the inevitability of sinning, makes possible the choosing of righteousness as situations arise. It takes us from the place of absolute bondage and blindness to every alternative and sets us in the place of liberty, of choosing this day and the next whom we will follow, whether Jesus and thereby Life, or Satan and inevitable death.

But, we dare not ever suppose we have made it, that we have so surely attained unto salvation that we can sit back and idle away for the duration. No! Our enemy remains a lion on the prowl. The eyes of the Lord, for that matter, search us out. The final verdict is no longer in doubt for us, in reality never was in doubt. Whom He predestined He called, and rest assured that if He called they answered! And, He is omni-omni! There is no power that can shake the elect from their status. There is no sin left uncovered by the atoning blood of Christ. There is no risk at all of the elect being unelected. There is, however, this risk: If we who are saved see but dimly, with far more uncertainty and lack of understanding than we would desire, then surely, those who are not counted amongst the elect, they who sit in darkness still, see less clearly. There is a great danger to those who, convinced of their election, have convinced themselves of a false hope. There are those who, though they sit among us for years on end, eventually go out from us, for they were never of us (1Jn 2:19). It is only by the inward ministration of the Holy Spirit that we have confidence to profess ourselves assuredly amongst the elect. But, I am mindful that it is possible that lying spirits would whisper very similar assurances to the reprobate. What could be more clever than to convince the lost soul that he is saved, and need look no further? For one who seeks the devastation and destruction of all God holds dear, what would be more gratifying than the moment of realization when the dupe discovers the extent of his error?

There is great reason, then, for Paul to admonish us to work out our salvation in fear and trembling (Php 2:12-13). How often I come back to this! It is God who works in us to will and work for His own good pleasure, and yet it is for us to work out our salvation. Seems contradictory, but it is Truth. We work out our salvation not as earning it, but as a means of reassuring ourselves of that which has already been accomplished within us. I think, too, of that message Paul gives the Corinthian church. “Each man’s work will become evident. The day will reveal it by fire with which the man’s work will be tested. He shall receive reward for such work as stands the test, but what is burned up shall be loss to him, though he himself shall be saved, yet as through fire” (1Co 3:13-15).

We shall, then, be saved, and that is not due to the wonderful things we have done for God, but solely because of the most wonderful thing He has done for us, making a way where there is no way, reversing the curse of Adam. Salvation is not in question. It is not in question for the elect or the reprobate. It is inalterable in either case. Yet, there remains a testing, a judgment of sorts for both. In some ways, we might think the terms synonymous, but they are not. For the elect, a testing, a weighing of the works so as to assess what rewards might accrue. But, salvation is settled in Christ. For the reprobate, no hope of salvation can be found. There remains only the judgment. The verdict is most assuredly settled and inevitable. But, the punishment? On the one hand, it would seem hard for me to distinguish a degree of punishment when the term over which punishment is meted out covers eternity. Yet, there are, I suppose, degrees of punishment, for God is just.

Sin is sin, at some level, and the consequence of any sin is death. But, at another level, we sense in ourselves that all sin is not equal, that some sins are far more heinous than others, and I cannot but think this reflects our own reflection of God’s being. If, then, there be distinction of sins, there must likewise be distinction of punishments. But, I have wandered far from my original thought, and into what must remain speculative until the day when I see in full.

For today, it is the reminder that all the outward works, all the works period, cannot save me, cannot in the end prevent me from rejecting God’s purpose for me. It is, as is my salvation, wholly a matter of depending upon Him. Study does not remove that dependency. Constant practice in the proper forms of worship and behavior, and even of thought cannot remove that dependency. They can but offer me assurances of a sort that I am indeed amongst the elect, and that, only as I remain mindful that whatever progress I may be making, I have nothing whatsoever of which to boast.

Lord, I thank You for this reminder. I thank You for the answer to that prayer of a few days back, that You be with us lest we forget. And, that prayer persists. The way ahead is unclear to me, certainly, and fraught with perceived pitfalls and snares, but You are with me. Guide me, Lord. Guide us to whom You have entrusted the guiding of this flock. Show us the next footstep, and grant us to walk confidently in light of Your certain guidance. Open our ears to Your words, Holy Lord God, and our eyes to see where You point. Let Your will and Your purpose be to us as the Pillar was to Moses, a clear and constant marker by which to navigate all that must be done in coming days. Thy will be done. Thy will be done in me as it is in heaven. Thy will be pursued by we, your servants, with that same alacrity by which Your heavenly servants pursue it. Thy will be accomplished, as it surely must, and may we be found in accord and in concord with Your will as we proceed. Amen, and amen!

There is another passage which has been resonating with me of late, which is that found in Luke 10. Here, Jesus is instructing the seventy as to the task appointed them. What caught my eye lies in the introductory words of Jesus. Having noted that the harvest needs more workers, His first instruction to the seventy is: Pray for workers! But, Jesus, aren’t these the workers You are addressing? Yes, they are. But, seventy will never suffice. The tithe of the redeemed would not suffice. Pray for laborers. Pray that the Lord of the harvest will send those laborers into His harvest (Lk 10:2). But, it is when that which immediately follows is added that I find the real message has come out. Pray for laborers…Go your ways (Lk 10:3).

Pray for, then go as. That is the message I see here. Now, there is, in that prayer, a matter which ought to have our concern. The Lord may, in some circumstances, determine that His laborers are to be withheld. This is at odds with our sense of evangelism, yet it is clearly true. There are those who are reserved for fire. There are those who, for reasons known to Himself, God has determined are not among the redeemed. Or, it may simply be that the time is not yet. We are not that likely to be given the explanation for His determinations in these matters, only our own instructions. I think of Paul’s intention of going into Bithynia (Ac 16:7), but the outcome? “The Spirit of Jesus did not permit them.”

Think about that! Think, and apply. Paul did not find this obstacle to his preferred course of action and instantly conclude that the devil was opposing him and he merely needed to pray hard enough, call in enough angels, or things of that nature. It’s possible, I suppose, that he had thoughts along these lines at the time, but in retrospect he saw clearly: It was Jesus Himself who determined, which is to say it was God who determined. And, arriving at that point, we arrive at a certain truth. It is God who determines. Even if the devil serves as means, it remains God’s determination what he can or cannot do to whom and when. Just as with Job: You may do as you will, Satan, up to this boundary and not one step further. If we understand this, we must also understand that the very same truth applied in Eden. You may work upon Adam and his wife, but there are limits. It is there again with Peter at the trial. Satan has demanded – demanded! – to sift you like wheat, but I have prayed (Lk 22:31). Satan can make any demands he likes, but the Lord remains the one who determines, and He not only determines the boundaries of Satan’s activity, but also, in some regard the outcome. This is not to suggest that God commands sinful activity, nor even that He condones it. Impossible! But, He can and does turn the sinful actions chosen by His creatures to His own good purpose.

When, therefore, we feel the certain effects of an attack of the enemy, it is not upon the enemy we ought to focus, but upon our Lord. Lord God, what is Your command in this situation? If You are opposed to this direction we are going, please, then, point us to the Way You have chosen that we may walk in it. For Paul, that meant Macedonia rather than Bithynia. Do we know why? Not with precision, no. We do know this led to the church being established in Philippi, and that this church was powerfully rooted and highly effective. But, what was wrong with Bithynia? I don’t know, and I doubt Paul had any clear idea about it. For whatever value it might have, Bithynia appears to be that region of northern Turkey that borders the Bosperus, where lies the city of Istanbul, as it called today, with Byzantium across the waters. That path would have required travel through Thrace, as well, but instead, it would appear that Paul’s journey bypassed that region.

But, we beseech the Lord to send out His laborers, to proceed into His harvest, that the harvest may not be lost. We look around us, if our hearts are right, and see the many lost and dying around us, and cry out to God that He might count even these amongst His elect, that He might call even these to Himself. For we were once like them, at least many of us (Col 3:7), yet He called us, He changed us, He took us from that mess. God, no respecter of person, can surely do here as He did on my behalf. Lord, would You do so! Would you send out your workers into this field? But, here is the key thought I have for today. Having prayed, listen for His release to go. For you, who have prayed, are His laborers. If, then, this field has tugged your heartstrings such that you would approach your Master, surely, it ought to tug at your feet to go when once He gives the word!

Dare I say it? If we are inclined to stop with the prayer and think that with that we have done our part, I have to wonder about an issue with hypocrisy. And I say this knowing my own habits too closely resemble my remarks. Yet, this is the very counsel I have given on other occasions, and have seen those so counseled blessed by their compliance. I am watching it with my wife even now. For so long, she prayed that the Church would send out help to this local ministry. But, the truth is, if I might borrow the rather horrible phrasing of the last couple of elections, she was the one she was waiting for. Pray, then go. Now, that is not to say that we pray, and then simply assume we are authorized. No! Prayer is a two way mode of communication. It’s not just, “Lord watch over me, but I’m going to go do what I think is right.” It’s not, “Lord, bless this work I am determined to do, whether it accords with Your plans or not.” It’s, “Lord, I hear You. Here I am. Send me.” And, if we have not heard Him, it is deserving of more prayer. There is a time, though, when our apparent failure to hear Him is little more than the flesh making excuse for delay. Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t heard from God on this. I don’t feel led to do it. But, then, I don’t feel led not to either. Truth is, I just don’t feel led, because I’m too busy leading.

But, if it’s worth praying that God send laborers, and if there is nothing precludes me being a laborer, who better to send? How long has it been since I said, “Here I am, Lord. Send me”? There has been a degree of that, to be sure, in taking up this task of being an elder. Although, even there, I cannot say I volunteered myself, but rather that I interpreted events as a call to which I felt I must answer. So, yes. I think that fits the mold. But, going into the harvest?

Oh, Lord! You know I am better suited to dealing with those who are already in the folds, or at least that this is how I see myself. Keep me mindful, though, that You know far better than I! If this is a call for me to answer, then so be it, Father. I am here. I shall hear. And, if You say go, by Your strength I shall go.

The next set of passages I should like to consider are, taken together, a fine corrective for any pride that may be welling up in me. God knows that’s been something of a perennial problem with me, and it is only made more clear by recent responsibilities. But, that pride, as I am forced to look upon it, is also accompanied by a certain fragility. That, I think, comes of pride coming up against events lying outside my much vaunted abilities. I.e. it’s boasting versus reality, and boasting must always lose in that conflict. This is a good thing. It is healthy that I should discover my limits, and discover that they present a far smaller horizon than I tend to convince myself they do.

But, as pride never befits the child of God, how good it is that Jesus has given us so many pointers by which to recognize our true estate. I consider, for example, these encouraging words to His chosen disciples. “I praise Thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that Thou didst hide these things from the wise and intelligent” (Lk 10:21). Yes, thank You Father! Hey! Wait a minute. That’s a rather backhanded sort of compliment, isn’t it? He’s just revealed much to us, but then He is saying it remains hidden from the wise and intelligent, so what does that make us? But, you know and I know that however much we may think ourselves wise, however keenly trained our minds in this discipline or that, this kingdom business we are in requires something much greater. Indeed, if we are about being kingdom focused in our pursuits, we will quickly arrive at the end of ourselves, soon enough face events that demand we admit our weakness, our limitations. If you are not serving beyond your abilities, it might even suggest that you are still busy doing works, rather than going forth in the power of God.

I don’t know if I’m making that distinction clear which I have in my mind. I don’t think that sentence quite expressed it. We work. That is a fact of Christianity. There remains the motive. If our motive is to impress God, then assuredly our works are worthless things that shall be burned up when tested by fire. If they are the response to God’s leading, then it is just as assured that they shall stand that test. But, I think there’s a third category that gets overlooked, works done because we can, because they make us feel useful without being overly challenged. Now, it may well be that some or all of these sorts of efforts are simply a matter of using the gift God gave us, and praise God for that! Yes, if our gifts match our calling, how wonderful. And, it stands to reason that He would so equip us for those purposes He created us to pursue. But, I suspect it is often the case that we settle, or try to make God settle. We are willing to do this. We know how. It doesn’t cause us any anxiousness. We could do it, as the saying goes, with one hand tied behind our backs . But, how, dear servant, do you respond when the Master commands a more challenging task? How, when the call is to some field of endeavor for which you find yourself wholly unprepared? Is it still, “here am I, Lord. Send me”?

It’s not about you, after all. It’s not about your amazing abilities that so impress God that He just knows He couldn’t do it without you. In fact, it is far more likely to be the exact opposite. God is so aware of your many limitations that He knows you can’t do it without Him! Did you ever wonder why He chose Moses with Aaron right there? Moses himself pointed out the problematic nature of God’s choice. Look, God. I can barely speak well enough to be understood by family, let alone these Egyptians! I stutter all the time. How impressive is that likely to be? Surely, if You are looking for a spokesman, for a representative, Aaron here would be a far more worthy candidate. But, God chose Moses. Why? Because Moses knew from the outset that the only way he could hope to fulfill the call was with God. Is it any wonder he later came to God and said, effectively, “If You’re not coming with me, I’m not going.” Really, that has got to be about the most appropriate response to God there can be. The corollary ought also to hold. If You’re going, I’m not staying.

That segues me into Luke 12:34, a very popular verse, but one that ought also to be a gut check for the believer. “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” Yes! Oh, we love that message! Oh, yes, Lord! I believe it! I want my heart to be in your kingdom. But, it’s not so much a promise as a testing. Where is your treasure? What are the things that you love so much, that you dwell upon all the time. Notice the ordering of that statement. It is not where your heart is, you will find your treasure. It’s more along the lines of, if you would know where your deceitful heart is, consider well what it is you treasure. If those things you treasure are not in the right place, then rest assured, neither is your heart.

This is quite possibly the single hardest instruction in all of Scripture, for all that we are, as Calvin said, idol factories. We are forever finding other loves, setting our hearts after other things. What the eye sees, the heart wants. What the ear hears, the heart would possess. What the tongue tastes fills the heart with longing. We live in a sensory world and we are a sensual people. Much of what man has made has been made to sensual purpose. Advertisers and manufacturers are both keenly aware of our fallen natures. The entire advertising industry is primarily concerned with stimulating those idolatrous fancies of ours, convincing us that whatever the item is shall in some way either promote or satisfy our sexuality.

Everything around us seeks to capture our heart, seeks to be the thing we treasure, and we are quite good at treasuring things. Yet, Scripture gives many a warning in this regard. I am forever reminded of the warning Moses delivered to the people of Israel in this regard. Look, God is going to give you this land, you will have vineyards and fields and animals and fine houses, and you will have labored little or none at all to get them. And when you are so blessed by your God, do you know what’s going to happen? You’ll forget Him Who gave you so much! You will be pleased with yourself. You will be utterly caught up with seeing to all your fine properties, enjoying all your bounty, and in very short order, you will completely forget that it was not your own talents that brought you to this place. Think, also of that parable of the man who was set to rebuild his barns to take in the overflowing bounty of his crops. The result? God Himself spoke to that man, “You fool!”

Stop right there for a moment. Can you think of anything worse you might hear in your entire life than for the all-wise, all-knowing God to come to you so as to deliver those two words? Oh, no doubt about it, we are all as fools compared to Him. Were it not so, we should not find Him to be God, but just a pal of ours. But, when we are hoping so much to hear the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant”, how devastating will it be to hear that instead? When you are one of the chosen, as this man in the parable was, as the Pharisees were, or even the Sadducees, how shocking, how debilitating, should God come with those two words! How, I wonder, would we in the church react if we were to hear the same? Would there be repentance or rejection out of hand? Would we write it off as somebody’s ego getting out of hand? Or, would we be the more attentive to hear what follows, to seek out whether there yet exists a chance for correcting course?

For this man, it didn’t stop with those two words. It proceeded straight to sentencing. “This very night your soul is required of you” (Lk 12:20). Your heart was with the things you treasured, and they consumed your every thought. Yet, here is the thing you ought to have treasured more than all things, and it has eluded you. You have not even noticed it. The kingdom is here, that which is of greater worth than the grandest pearl, that which is infinitely more to be valued than your barns filled with grain. And, rather than pursue this most valuable of commodities, you have been distracted by lesser things. As Jesus concluded, “So is the man who lays up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God” (Lk 12:21).

This is the state of our own society. This is the state of many within the church. This is my own state, except I be exceedingly careful to watch myself and pray. I know it. I know it too well, because I know how much I have come to value this lovely house, the fun car, the air conditioner (especially the air conditioner, this last week!), the dining out, and so on. I know I want the surety of having ample funds in my accounts, and I become exceedingly anxious (in spite of knowing I have no cause to be anxious whatsoever as a child of the God of all Providence) should the accounts get thin. What gives? I know better! I’ve been here before, and I have been there before, and He has never come up unfaithful. He has never let me go. So, why this inordinate love of my stuff? Why the flares of anger should somebody be so bold as to suggest perhaps I love my stuff too much? Because by God’s design I remain a man of weak flesh. The spirit is willing, but… The spirit hungers to love God as it ought, but the flesh wants nothing to do with such thinking. The flesh wants its own way, and like Paul before me, I am a man at war with himself, and must resign myself to the knowledge that it shall ever be so until I depart this mortal plain.

But, I am called to do better. I am called to battle the flesh, to set my heart upon the kingdom as best I may, and to reset my heart in that inclination so often as it becomes necessary. There is a reason, friend, that we must take up our cross daily. There is a reason we must don our spiritual armor, see to the condition of our spiritual weapons, and go to our Master for orders each day, never assuming our growth to be such that we no longer have the need. Therein lies the first warning! When you think you have no need of God, that you can do it on your own, know that you have left something undone. Know that your heart is deceitfully wicked, and that its voice is leading you in a direction you ought not to go. Know that you are rushing headlong into peril.

How much more mindful I become of these things (except, of course, when I am not mindful of them at all) with this new responsibility of eldership. Even as a teacher, I was aware of the warnings, the greater requirements and the greater judgment that became my due and my guardrail. And, how often does this remark of my Lord come to mind! “From everyone who has been given much shall much be required; and to whom they entrusted much, of him they will ask all the more” (Lk 12:48). Indeed! That has been one of my favorite passages for explaining our need, even our requirement, to study. We have so much at our disposal, so many tools of study that our ours at no cost, so many more that, if costly, are freely available. And how many avail themselves? Very few indeed. How often do I? Yes, I have my daily times of study, and I have my suite of references. But, even this amounts to a mere hour or less out of my day. I spend more time on solitaire. But, I have been given much, and now I find I have been entrusted with much. And much is indeed asked. Should this surprise? Hardly. Do I think myself worthy? Not in the least. I don’t even think myself capable. But, I know God is with me, and I know in my more cogent moments, that it is a matter of life or death for me that this be so. If God is not with me, I am at sea with no boat. If God is not with me, I am stumbling blind through the minefields. There is no hope. There is no serious possibility of coming through the days whole and intact. But, with Him? Well, back to Mary’s lesson, my friend: “With God, nothing shall be impossible.” How often I need both of these reminders!

And, of course, there is this as well, a common refrain in Scripture, and one worth repeating to ourselves often: “Everyone who exalts himself shall be humbled, and he who humbles himself shall be exalted” (Lk 14:11). How many ways is it said? How often must we hear it before we get it? It would seem to me that we need to be reminded of this fact as often as Jesus instructed the disciples to forgive. Seven times seventy! So often you lose count, and still you will need to hear it again. No flesh shall boast before the Lord. There is none found righteous, and that includes you, that includes me. Apart from Me, you can’t do a thing. And on it goes. Yet, we still incline to thinking ourselves something. We still incline to pointing out to God how much He needs us, rather than reminding ourselves how great our own need for Him remains. We keep thinking we’ve arrived, in spite of knowing better. How terribly easy it is to lie to ourselves and believe it.

But, Jesus gives us a corrective. He is, after all, the finest of Teachers, and the most perfect Shepherd for our souls. “So you too, when you do all the things which are commanded you, say, ‘We are unworthy slaves; we have done only that which we ought to have done’” (Lk 17:10). This is the response to my pride. If I think I’ve done something of value for Christ, it is only what I ought to have done. It’s just my job, man. It’s nothing special. Anybody could have done it. Alternately, nobody could have done it, including me, and in a very real sense, I didn’t do it. It is God, after all, who is at work in me both to will and to work for His good pleasure (Php 2:13). We have only done what we ought? We have not done even that, except to the extent that He has been working through us. Where is the place for pride in that understanding? It is eliminated.

Yet, much is required. I think, in this instance, that the passage is not simply a matter of taking responsibility for one’s own spiritual condition. It’s not sufficient to work out your own salvation with fear and trembling (Php 2:12), the other half of that statement, which I dare never forget. It’s critical that we do, but it’s imperative that we not stop there. Much will be required. God has invested heavily in me, and He is expecting a good ROI. That is, after all, the message in the fig tree that was destroyed outside Jerusalem’s gates, and of many of those parables given outside Jerusalem as well. There ought to be abundant harvest, but instead there is just showy leaves. Rather than growing rich fruit, you are sapping the vitality of the tree. Rather than giving God His due, you are trying to take His throne for yourself, just like Satan, your father.

Do we suppose this stopped in 32 AD? Do we suppose this stopped with the fall of Jerusalem in 67 AD? Do we suppose this stopped with the Reformation, with the Great Awakening? I tell you with greatest certainty that it has never stopped. It has and ever shall be a matter of great concern to the welfare of God’s people. The desire to usurp is not gone, nor is the tendency to be satisfied with our own salvation, or even the false sense of salvific security. If I’m going home, what need do I have to care about these others? They can make their own way. God can reach them without me. And it’s true. He can. But, He set you here for a purpose. He designed you for good works, specific good works. Are you so very sure that lost soul over yonder is not one of them? If not you, who? If not now, when? Are you still (have you ever really been) in that place of, “Here I am. Send me”?

Another verse, which I think needs to be heard in this setting. “Satan has demanded permission to sift you like wheat” (Lk 22:31). This was, of course, spoken specifically to Peter, and specifically for the next few days of his life. But, it also has a more general application. It is the story of every man or woman who takes up the task of shepherding God’s people. Even if your role is to disciple one other, there is reason for the enemy of our soul to take notice. The kingdom is growing and that can only mean that his stolen kingdom is diminishing.

I first grabbed that verse because the word ‘demanded’ jumped out at me. Satan demanded something from God! Can you imagine? I don’t think even Moses can be found to have demanded something of God. He knew better. Satan really ought to have known better. It’s not as though God is impressed by demands or decrees issued by His subjects. And have no doubt that Satan, for all his rebellious battling, remains subject. He can demand what he likes, but he can only go so far as he is permitted. God may see fit to allow him his roaming and his attacks on the Church, yet God also stands as the staunch defender of the Church. If there are attacks, it is for our good. Hard to see it that way, but there it is. If we are shepherds, then surely we must be aware of the attacks, of the potential for attacks. Surely, we must be mindful to stand not as idle observers, but as watchmen on the wall. Yet, it is not enough for us, I think, to sound the alarm. We are also called to rush to the front lines, to take the battle to the enemy; yet never in our own strength, for even today, the battle belongs to the Lord, or at least that is the way I hear it, having done the song so often. Yet, if I am not greatly mistaken, this is the basis for the song: “The horse is prepared for the day of battle, but victory belongs to the Lord” (Pr 21:31). I think it would serve me well today to remember that I am the horse.

[07/21/13] This morning, I am turning my attention to the closing remark of the parable of Lazarus (Lk 16:15-31). Before I look at that verse specifically, though, it might be worth a comment to consider the parable more generally. The thing that makes this parable a bit surprising is the use of names. That Jesus introduces us to one of His characters by name is not typical for His style. This, together with the accounts of a real Lazarus whom Jesus brought back from the dead, has led some to suppose that this is not a parable at all, but a story about Lazarus, or perhaps about another Lazarus, but at any rate about real events rather than symbolic.

I would like to propose another possibility, and that is the idea that Jesus, while teaching by parable as is His wont, has in this instance added a touch of prophecy, or if you prefer, foreshadowing. He certainly knew before He went to Bethany that Lazarus (the real Lazarus) was dead. He told His disciples as much. He knew, also, what He was to do about that when He reached Bethany, and I dare say He knew why. As with all the myriad other healings that He had performed, this was not without purpose, and the purpose was much larger than the few additional years given to that man.

Let’s be clear, though: The real Lazarus to whom Scripture introduces us was not poor, was not fallen to begging, nor so debilitated that he must be lain in place with no means to defend himself even from dogs. Further, this parable precedes the time of his interment. These two points should suffice to inform us that Jesus is not relating a historical event here, not even one in the historical future. He is teaching by parable. The distinction lies in the fact that aspects of this parable would be played out before the scoffing Pharisees He was addressing, not once, but twice. His use of the name Lazarus here was to make sure that the first occasion would not escape their notice.

Think about the flow of the parable. The poor, inconsequential Lazarus goes down into the grave, as does the rich, secure and unnamed fellow from whom he had begged his sustenance. Lazarus goes to Abraham’s side, the rich man to the devil. The culmination for the rich man is his desire to get word back to his brethren that they might not suffer the same eternal fate that he has done, but rather repent. So great is his concern that he begs Abraham to send somebody back from the dead to speak to them. And, it is the reply to this that snaps us to: “If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone rises from the dead” (Lk 16:31).

In this context, this serves as the core of the message being delivered: Nothing is going to convince you of the truth. If the signs to date have not done it, then even those greater signs to come will not penetrate your stony hearts. Yet, as we know, the signs were undeniable. The real Lazarus would be dead and buried three days, and way too many well off and influential people were witness to both his burial and the clear reality of that dead man walking the streets, talking with friends, dining with family. Someone rises from the dead, and still, just as Jesus declared, they do not listen. That second resurrection of Himself proved much the same, not that it surprised Him at all. No. He had already proclaimed that outcome as well. Oh, Jerusalem! Would that it were otherwise, but you’ve made your choice.

But, as Luke records later on, this rejection, this terrible loss to Jerusalem would not be final. “Jerusalem will be trampled under foot by the Gentiles until the times of the Gentiles be fulfilled” (Lk 21:24). To be honest, I don’t recall why I had set this verse aside for comment. But, it is fitting to consider in light of this parable, and the real life events it foreshadowed. We who have the benefit of history know that indeed Jerusalem was trampled under foot. Rome would come against that place with a vengeance a little more than thirty years after the events of the Gospel accounts. Nor would they be the last. To this day, we see an Israel which is trampled under foot. Oh, she is strong in her way. She is not subdued, but it is striking that so much suffering has been heaped upon one people; that in spite of so much suffering, the nation has not disappeared, its citizens have not become a note in the history books. The Hittites, the Jebusites, and all those other ites who were removed from the land were so thoroughly removed that for years, folks in modern times thought them myths and legends, considered them as evidence that Moses had been making things up wholesale when he wrote the Pentateuch. But, God has had the last laugh, for while nothing remains of those tribes, evidence of their past existence does remain. Once more, the veracity of Scripture is vindicated. But, even this will not suffice to produce belief in the modern skeptic.

The thing we do well to remember, though, we Gentiles who have been not only welcomed into the kingdom, but have for many centuries all but defined its visible extent, is that we are but a season. We, too, will find that there is a time at which our primacy in the redemption story, such as it is, shall cease. There is a time set in God’s calendar when Jerusalem shall be restored. This is not to say that the restoration of Jerusalem will come in such fashion as to re-establish the religious practices of old. Many in our day suppose this to be the case, that the temple shall be rebuilt once more, and not just Herod’s temple, but Solomon’s, that the requisites for the sacrificial system shall once more be formulated. The implication is, of course, that the sacrificial system itself shall be reinstated. But, this would defy all sense. Why, pray tell, would God want His people to return to types and shadows when He has already fulfilled the whole purpose of those types? If there is a once-for-all sacrifice of His own Son to satisfy what goats and oxen and turtledoves could never truly achieve, why would there be a time when He insisted His people go back to goats and oxen, to grain offerings and wave offerings? Why would He once more send to the tutelage of the Law those who have come to know the Master of the Law? No. This is not the intended meaning. It cannot be.

But, that the people who are called by His name shall in time be restored? Yes! Oh, and what riches to us that shall be, as Paul reminds us. “Now if their transgression be riches for the world and their failure be riches for the Gentiles, how much more will their fulfillment be! But I am speaking to you who are Gentiles. Inasmuch then as I am an apostle of Gentiles, I magnify my ministry, if somehow I might move to jealousy my fellow countrymen and save some of them” (Ro 11:12-14). That is what this time of our own fulfillment points to. They were the first, but they shall be the last, if we take that meaning here. Their own time of fulfillment awaits our own, just as our time of first fruits was dependent upon theirs.

Here, too, is a warning for those who have note come to Christ. There is a time when our time is fulfilled, when the opportunity for repentance comes to a close. The gates of heaven have their own schedule, we might say their own Sabbath. When the gates of the heavenly city close for the Sabbath, though, I dare say it is an eternal Sabbath. It is the culmination of God’s rest, into which He has long since entered, but towards which we all, whom He has called, are yet making our way. And, when the gates of His city close, and the marriage feast of the Lamb begins, what remains for those outside? “Depart from Me. I never knew you.”

Go back and review those rare periods of real repentance that mark the record of the Davidic dynasty, or even that time when Israel was restored from out of Babylon. For all that, look back to Jesus clearing the marketplace out of the temple, and blocking the gates so that those who had made holy ground no more than a shortcut between home and business must needs find another path. Business is not a thing suited to God’s house. The Sabbath was and is a day to recognize His primacy, to reject the call of the marketplace, to take our eyes off of mammon and its demands, and restore ourselves in and to Him.

I am forgetting which passage it was that Table Talk had referenced last week, but there was that one in Jerusalem who, having recovered the Law, or at least a proper sensibility to the Law, determined to restore its observance. He commanded the gates to be closed, and when those Gentile businessmen made noisy camp outside the gates, hoping to persuade the city of an early opening of the gates, he commanded his soldiers to see to their forcible removal. When the gates are closed, they are closed. If, then, there is an eternal rest into which we enter, an eternal Sabbath, it becomes clear that those gates are closed in an equally eternal fashion. “Between us and you there is a great chasm fixed, in order that those who wish to come over from here to you may not be able, and that none may cross over there to us” (Lk 16:26).

Let us, then, not forget or neglect our brothers in Israel. Neither, let us be so prideful as to suppose we have supplanted them and stolen away their inheritance. For, it is not so. God has declared that it is not so. He has decreed that there shall ever be a remnant, and were He to renege on this word to Israel, He would be declaring that He is not God after all. No! His Word must go forth and accomplish all its purpose. All that has been prophesied must be fulfilled. It is impossible that it should be otherwise. This place in which we stand as Gentiles is not a place for boasting, we are not a replacement. No, it is a place for urgency, knowing that the time is short. It’s a place for humility, seeing how we have been grafted into the Vine of Israel, and recognizing how easily even the original branches of that vine could wither away. If the native branch can fall so swiftly, we who are but grafted in ought always to consider our own situation, ought always be cognizant that we, too, can fall, and that right fast. That is no new lesson of mine, obviously, but only a retelling of Paul’s lessons. Yet, it is something that deserves repeating, rehearing, lest we forget. Lest we forget. God is with us yet, and for those He has called, He ever shall be. But, the time of His calling is finite, and we have a commission to fulfill before that time draws to a close.

We are here, as I have been reminded in recent days, not to coddle the healthy, but to rescue the sick. We are not here to be safe harbor to the saved, but to seek out the lost and save them.

God keep us from turning your house into a mere business. Keep us from mistaking our purpose as the Pharisees before us did. Keep us from accepting a country club where You have decreed a field hospital. You came to seek and save the lost, not to heal the healthy. How can we do otherwise? Help us, Lord, through these many distractions, that we may not lose focus, and we may not lose the will to be about the work for which You made us. No, nor let us suffer any pride to enter in should we indeed be on course. We are but doing as we should. And, God, if we can say that, then indeed it is well with my soul.

I must, given the day ahead, beg Thee fill us with Your grace. Uphold us, O, God! Guard our tongues and even our very thoughts from evil. You know that there are difficult and delicate discussions which we to whom You have entrusted the guidance of this church must have. You know, as do we, the wounding words which have passed. You know, as we do not, the true intent of the heart. You know our motives and You are able to make us aware of our own, as well, lest we be self-deluded. God, I pray for our pastor, who is required by Providence to come back from the mission field straight into the minefield. Have mercy upon Him, Lord, and if it be at all possible within Your sovereign will, grant him that space in time to recharge and reconnect with his family. As for those things which must transpire today, Lord, be in the events, be in our words, be in our minds and spirits, that the Unity of the Spirit would be manifest throughout.

[07/22/13] This morning, I am arrived back at the garden of Gethsemene, and I am considering a point that has been considered at length in my studies. But, there is something in Luke’s presentation which took my thoughts in a new direction. I am referring to Luke 22:40-42. There, Jesus has called the three disciples who made up His inner circle to accompany Him. He issues this instruction: “Pray that you may not enter into temptation.” Now, I have looked at that command previously, and in large part due to thoughts introduced to me by my prayer partner. It is a powerfully valuable command, and to shape one’s thoughts towards preventative prayer as opposed to repentant prayer is an end greatly to be desired.

However, as great a value there is in revisiting that aspect of things, what caught my attention on this occasion was that which follows upon the command. Jesus issues these directions to His disciples, and then He proceeds on a bit farther to pray Himself. And His prayer, well known to us, is “Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Thine be done.” Now, think a moment on that first clause. Therein lies what would likely be the core of our own prayers in anything approaching His circumstance. Father take this away! If I might borrow from an old childhood cartoon, our thinking and our prayer life can have a tendency to take on that aspect of, “Help, Mr. Wizard!” And, all we want from God, is that, “Time for this one to come home.” But, that’s not the life we are called to lead.

Jesus does not simply ask for a way out. In fact, in light of the command preceding this prayer, I think we are intended to see that what He is doing here is setting the example as to how we are to obey that command. It is His own prayer against temptation, and notice how He counters temptation. “Thy will.” IF You are willing, do so. But, if not, still Your will. The temptation, every temptation, consists in the urge to run counter to God’s will. The road looks difficult and all we want is permission to take a different way.

OK. This is an interesting point to come forward. I suppose I ought to record for myself the last scraps of that dream I awoke to this morning. Nothing dreadful, not even anything I would have thought particularly significant, honestly. But, in this dream, I was going down a snowy mountain, as if on skis, but in truth with only sneakers on. It was not some terribly steep slope, but sufficient to build up some speed, and I had looked down with a degree of surprise in finding that those sneakers could indeed cut so as to turn my course side to side. But, soon enough the slope leveled out, and even began to rise once again. Well, it’s not like I had skis on, so I simply dug my toes into the snow ahead to take a step. But, the next foot, being kicked in to establish a foothold, sunk in rather deeper than expected. The first few steps, though, were fine, and I went on, thinking, I suppose, that this was but a small rise, and I could resume my amusements on the other side. But, the thing is, that slope continued to slope upwards. Soon the banked snow before me was completely vertical, even curving back upon itself a bit. Well, I thought. It’s one thing to step one’s way up some slight path in the snow. It’s quite another to think about climbing some sort of snow-covered rock face with no experience and no equipment. The realization that crept into my thought was that what I was facing was a narrow pass so filled with snow that to go through would require digging a tunnel, for it was not the steepness of the grade that caused the snow to rise, but the depth to which it was piled in this narrow defile. The waking realization was that to go back was almost as great a challenge, considering the slope down which I’d so happily made my way.

Now, I could find a lovely application of this to the progress of sin, the way we are drawn on in our folly until there is no way forward and now way back, and we are just stuck in our mess. And, that would be worthwhile in itself. But, in light of the prayer Jesus offered, in light of this need we have to pray that we not enter into temptation and the nature of our typical prayers, having failed to take that step, here is the picture of our prayer life. We get to the bottom of the hill, again with no way forward and no good way back, and our prayer is, “God, open another path here! Give me a way out, a way past.” And, that is not so very far from what Jesus is praying. God, if You can come up with a plan B, I’m all for it! But, that is the temptation. It is a temptation from the outset to begin thinking that maybe God hasn’t thought this through. Something escaped His attention. Surely, He didn’t mean for me to be in this situation. Hey, man! God is Love! Why would He put me up to this? But, He does, and He has good and loving reasons.

We are going to be tempted early and often to throw in the towel if we are truly pursuing the work to which God has called us. He has not promised an easy path, but has in reality assured us that it will be the hardest thing we’ve ever done. We will face persecution. We will have trial and tribulation. We will stub our toes, bang our heads on the overhangs, and so on. It’s not the garden yet. It’s the brambles. Our mission in this present age is to navigate the brambles, find those who are lost out in that mess, and get them home. We are like those old images of the Saint Bernard, gone out into the snow to haul the lost soul back to the lodge.

So, let us learn from our Lord. There is no sin in asking for alternate approaches. There is great sin in supposing we can insist on that alternative. There is great sin, I think, in that mindset that has convinced us that pursuit of God is the easy road, and anything that smacks of difficulty or danger must mean we are out of His will. Really? Where is it written? No. He did not cause David to write that our Shepherd makes certain we never go anywhere near the valley of the shadow of death. What he caused to be set down in Psalm 23 was that even though we travel through that dire valley, our Shepherd is with us, and therefore, we know that there is no cause for fear. The Lord God of Hosts is with us yet, and He is intent, in this prayer of His, in making certain we don’t forget.

The counter to temptation, then, appears to lie in the constant reminder of God’s will, the constant and conscious submission to His will. It is, in that sense, a prayer of intentionality. It is a reminder to our soul that our comfort is not the point. Our desire is not the point. God’s will is the point, and maintaining our recognition that His will is perfect, His understanding is perfect, and His guidance of our course is perfect. If the road ahead looks impossible, it is time we get our eyes back on Him to whom impossible does not apply. If the road ahead appears life-threatening, even, it is to Him we turn, knowing that whether we live or we die, it is for Him. And, if we do not know that certainty, then here is the antidote: Pray. Pray for His will to be your beacon. Pray for the strength to pursue His will come what may. Pray, knowing that others before you have faced as bad or worse, and been held through it all. Pray, for Jesus Himself has faced far worse, and stood in the strength of God. And as He lives, so shall we live though we die.

This, I think, is a fine place to end this side-study reviewing Luke’s Gospel. It is a high note, and well to consider.

Lord God, I thank You for the many mornings these last few weeks in which You have arranged to set before me exactly the passage I needed to be mindful of. I thank You for the reminders of Your Providential care of me, and over those whom You have entrusted to me. I know, too, how poor a shepherd I am in my own skill. I need You, and it seems daily I see that need more clearly. It is well. I have been through dry places, and now, it seems, as the difficulty of the slope increases, I am seeing Your strength and Your wisdom displayed on my behalf all the more. And this is but as You said it would be.

Father, atop those concerns which have been with me through the last weeks, and those situations which I know still lie ahead, You know, too, the mild (and hopefully misguided) concern which has been with me this last day. But, it has been clear that there is a battle going on, that our church being on the verge of a more outward, evangelistic focus, there is opposition. This is only to be expected, and it can be expected to be virulent. Yet, I would pray that You would indeed be keeping watch over Your house and all those who are in it. I pray, Lord, that You would give us eyes to see clearly, not only Your own goodness, but the reality of those things going on around us. If we are to battle powers of spiritual wickedness, we must be able to perceive them. Oh, I have no desire, Lord, to see them as they truly are, but the awareness, and the wisdom and knowledge needed for combat? Yes, please.

God, these are Your sheep. In myself, I can do nothing to guide them, let alone guard them. But, I am in Your service and at Your service. Thy will be done. Thy will be done in me, however uncomfortable it must be. Thy will be done in Your house. Thy will be done by and in Your children. And, Lord, Thy will be done even by Your enemies. You are holy. You are mighty. I set myself and those I serve in Your infinitely capable hands. We are Yours, Lord, do Thou guide us.