New Thoughts (11/23/06-11/28/06)
The two accounts we have of this burst of praise give very different settings for the occasion. By Matthew’s account, this comes on the heals of His having bewailed the situation He found in the towns where He ministered. The people didn’t get it (because they did not want to get it), and there was no repentance to be seen. To set this praise in such a situation seems a bit strange to me. Yet, I ought to remember that even with such woe on His heart, Jesus still had a goodly crowd that were grasping the fact that the kingdom and its King were here. There were those who were getting beyond the excitement of seeing the miracles go recognize the meaning of the miracles. Yes, even here there was cause to rejoice and praise God for His goodness.
Luke, on the other hand, places this as a response to the report brought by the seventy whom Jesus had sent out. Certainly, by our reasoning, this is a much more appropriate time for praises. God’s people have struck a telling blow against the usurper. The kingdom is taking hold! Of course the King will rejoice at that news.
I am not going to pretend to know how to resolve this difference in settings. I know John Calvin would be likely to point out that Matthew is not attempting a chronology in what he writes, but a gathering of information that will explain this Jesus to his countrymen. Luke, on the other hand, makes claims to laboring to get everything in proper order. My own sense is that Luke does this for the better part of his record, but has, at some points, had to settle for gathering bits of the history together without such precise locating of those bits within the whole. I have placed the event here, in my attempts to correlate the four records of the Evangelists, but it could as easily belong in that place Luke has set it. For all that, the sending of the seventy may well have come much earlier in the record than I have chosen to place it. In sum, I think I must accept that the precise order of events is neither within my capacity to resolve, nor is it terribly important to understanding the message of the Gospel. It is one of those matters neither possible nor profitable to untangle. The fundamental fact to grasp is that Jesus did, at some point in His ministry, burst forth with this joyful pronouncement. Knowing that Jesus was a purposeful man, and a determined Teacher and Minister, we do well to focus on what He is saying rather than when it was said.
The first thing He has to say is that He praises God. Well, we are fine with saying the same thing. We will gladly say, ‘praise God’ to just about anything, particularly in the church setting. Some are still comfortable enough to be just as instant with that declaration when they’re at work, or in the stores. But, in some ways, it seems to have no more meaning to us than any simple interjection. It might mean, “oh,” or “wow,” or maybe, “how nice for you.” But, this loses the power of praise.
To praise God is to express one’s agreement with Him. It is to declare that His truth is Truth, and that it is not only His but mine as well. Because it is my own truth, something that I have thoroughly internalized, I can express it openly and joyfully. I can celebrate the truth I am praising. Certainly, there are things that are true that I would just as soon were not so. I must acknowledge such truths, but I will hardly express agreement with them. Acknowledgement and agreement are not the same things. If it is raining and I would have it sunny and warm, I am forced to acknowledge that it is raining. I may not be in agreement that rain was the right weather for God to have provided today. If I am sick, then however much my faith may accept that God is my Healer, I should not be so daft as not to acknowledge that I am sick. This is not to say that I should agree with the appropriateness of my being sick.
Praise expresses agreement. To praise God is to agree with His judgments, His plans, His good purposes. That is exactly what Jesus is doing here. He praises God for the plan He has chosen, the plan of revealing Himself to the simple rather than the elite. He says, ‘Yes, Father, this being the plan that it pleases You to pursue, it pleases Me to pursue it.’ Returning to the matter of the rain, a real praise of God in that circumstance must embrace a little (a very little) of what Jesus embraced in Gethsemene. We speak of praising God in spite of circumstance. This may be the sort of thing we are describing. It requires that we look to Him and say, “nevertheless, not what I would have, but what You would will.”
Now, obviously a rainy day and the cross are not matters worthy of being compared. The point I am trying to make is that we cannot possibly praise God in truth unless we really agree with His will in the matter. This is something beyond accepting His will. This is something more than simply submitting to His will. It is joyful agreement. Can you joyfully agree with the rain He has chosen for your day? Can you joyfully agree with the loved ones He chooses to remove from your life? Can you joyfully agree with the employment He causes you to leave behind you? Can you joyfully agree with Him when He says to give it all away? I’m not asking if you can deal with it. I’m not asking if you can get over it given enough time. Can you rejoice in it in that moment?
On the other end of the matter, can we get to a point where our shout of ‘praise God!’ is not dangerously close to taking His name in vain? Is it really any less wicked to shout an agreement we don’t really agree with than it is to growl a curse we don’t really care to see fulfilled? Is the one really taking Him any more lightly than the other? I do not counsel that we should stop declaring our praises of Him, not in the least. I do, however, want to remain conscious of what it means to truly praise Him, and if I am to praise Him, I want it to be not only in spirit, but in spirit and in truth. Anything less would be unworthy.
Let me say, then, that my praises ought to express agreement with God, and an agreement that is joyful because it is also the expression of my own conscience. That which is true praise must be not only joyful, but open. Praise is not, cannot be, shy. Praise cannot be such that it bends down and hides itself in the face of disagreement. If I express agreement with God and conscience, can it really matter what those around me might think on the matter? Think about it! The very cause for Jesus’ burst of praise here is that God chose whom He would reveal it to, and whom He would not. The plan and purpose of God is that those who are so full of themselves, full of their own sense of intelligence and wisdom, simply won’t get it. Until one comes to the place of humility, of acknowledging an absolute and total dependence upon God’s knowledge and God’s wisdom, they cannot comprehend God’s purpose, let alone agree with it.
With that in mind, let me say this. We cannot praise the God we don’t know. Until we have come and learned from Him, our praises can only be a hollow thing, a false agreement based on ignorance and emotion. To praise Him as we should, we must know Him as He is. It is more than just knowing about Him, it’s experiencing Him. It’s a matter of accepting the moral responsibility in the way we react to knowing Him. To know Him and ignore the implications gets us nowhere. We still haven’t come to the place of praise. No, we must know Him so thoroughly and so intimately that His ways are, as it were second nature to us.
When Jesus calls us to come learn from Him, this is what He invites us into. Remember that He has just finished saying that He along knows the Father, and He is willing to reveal Him to us that we might also know Him. He is offering us the chance to learn in a fashion that leads to epignosis. He is offering me the sort of education that is able to change who I am. Epignosis is a sort of knowledge more intimate than even that intimate knowledge by which the Jews were wont to speak of marital intimacy. It’s more even than that. When we have learned from Him – really learned – we will not only know the Father, we will abide by His ways. In fact, the point here is that we will have learned His ways so well that they become what we are accustomed to in our own right. His ways become our habit. That is the goal of the lessons Jesus wants to teach. We can praise God only to the degree that we have learned those lessons.
To my shame and sorrow, I know that I cannot make great claims to reflecting God’s ways in my habits yet. There is, as yet, too much of the split personality in me. There is the me that is in evidence in the church setting, when I’m teaching, when I’m here studying. Then, there is the me that seems to crop up shortly after I cease from one of these activities. He’s seen at work, and his reputation there, while technically solid, is not the one I would have sought for myself. While I know that these times of study are changing me, yet I cannot say that my life reflects the lessons I learn. It’s getting better, I think. But, like Paul, I am forced to acknowledge that I am nowhere close to arriving at the goal.
I am His student. This I can state with certainty. Yet, as His student, surely my life should reflect what He has been teaching me. I can hear it from many places in His textbook. “I gave you the example. Do as I have done for you” (Jn 13:15). There it is in very simple terms. Of course, the setting for that comment will be known. Here was a time when Jesus had set Himself to serve those who were His best students While the student could never be greater than the Teacher, yet the Teacher set aside His prerogatives to be as a household slave to these men. And He sets this forth as an object lesson. Do as I am doing. This is to be my model for life in the household of God. I can manage it for a time, so long as it’s only for a time. But, when I find myself always on the serving side, always giving out, something breaks. I become unwilling to do anymore.
I feel so terribly justified about it. Like Peter, I’m looking to God and saying, “See how good I’ve done? I can stop now, right?” (It occurs to me that this is exactly how my daughter is reacting to raking leaves today.) What I hear this morning is a simple question: “When did I stop serving you?” When did Jesus ever call it quits, decide He’d had enough of this servant business and left us to our own devices? He didn’t. Now, the One who never quit on us says, “I gave you the example. Now, do as I did.”
Jesus, forgive me. Yes, I’ve been awfully full of myself of late, haven’t I? I’ve been feeling like I’ve served enough, and now You turn my eyes back to You, and I see that I haven’t even begun to pursue Your example yet. Oh, how I want to repent of this attitude! How I want to repent of attitude completely. It’s a poison to my soul, and yet I keep drinking it in. God, I want to repent of this, yet I know that if You do not work upon me to make it a true repentance, it will never be more than a momentary, emotional response. I’ve been feeling so put upon by everybody and everything, my God. I’ve been in that “I don’t deserve this, and I’m not putting up with it anymore” mode, and this is just not fitting for a child of Yours. So, again I say, forgive me, my King. Forgive me. Remold me, bring the reform in my character that will allow me to heed You as I should. Remake me in such a way that my life will truly reflect Yours.
The same message comes through loud and clear from John’s letters. If you claim to abide in Him, then you ought to behave as He did, do as He did, speak as He did (1Jn 2:6). How do I react to life, though? Do I reflect what I say I believe? I believe I abide in my Jesus and He in me. Truth be told, as often as not, I find this a great mystery, that He can abide the thought of abiding in me. How can it be that the God who cannot tolerate sin in His presence welcomes such as me? Yet, I am assured by His own words that He does abide with me. Somehow, by His abiding presence, my sin is made as if it were not. He Who chooses the things that are not to confound the things that are (1Co 1:28), has done just that with me! He has chosen what is not – my righteousness – to confound and nullify what is – my sinfulness. Thus can He continue with me as He does His work upon me.
Yet, I am still required to face the message of John’s letter. Here is what I ought to be. Here is the real measuring stick. Paul, in that passage I just mentioned, concludes his thought by saying that given how God has chosen, we have nothing at all to boast of before Him. Wow! As I apply that to John’s words, I see his point more clearly than ever! If it is only because God has chosen me as the thing I am not so as to nullify what I am, then I really don’t have anything to say about myself. The only reason I am in Him is because He has chosen to nullify my sinfulness by my non-existent righteousness. Is it any wonder, then, that this walk is so difficult? The standard hasn’t changed. The standard has only been made more evident to us, and our own situation with regard to that standard manifested to our thinking.
John says, “here is what you should look like, child of God. You should look like Jesus.” Every aspect of my life is supposed to look like that, even the hidden, invisible parts. Even the thoughts I have which I do not share with anybody – these, too, should be the thoughts of my Lord. Every word I speak should be spoken as coming from His lips. Every reaction to my child should be His reaction. Every effort I expend should be expended on the things He would do. Now, does that preclude all manner of pleasures? I don’t think so. Jesus enjoyed life when opportunity arose. He enjoyed it, but He kept it focused on God. He was not unwilling to join in the activities of life. He attended wedding parties. He went out to eat with those who invited Him. He connected. Further, while we can only speculate on what occupied His time prior to starting His ministry, it seems reasonable to think He might well have pursued Joseph’s craft. If He did, I think we can safely assume that He did so with all due diligence and effort.
Right now, I am in a place where I need to be careful to make certain that I am pursuing my craft in accord with His purpose. It is well to excel at what we are given to do. Our jobs and even our hobbies ought to be seen as things as holy in God’s sight as our ministry and service to the Church, perhaps even more so. After all, for most of us, they represent a much larger portion of life. So, in my present frame of activity, music, and particularly expanding my abilities on the instrument God has chosen for me, has been occupying an ever larger portion of my time. In keeping with some of the things I have been finding in these times of study, I have come to a point where I am absolutely content with what God has chosen, but I am absolutely dissatisfied with what I have done with it to date. I have spent enough time being satisfied, saying that what I can do is good enough; that it will have to suffice. No!
Caleb, looking forward along the waiting, did not think to himself that his skills would have to suffice such as they were. He did not walk in presumption. He did not figure that whatever condition his weapons happened to be in when battle came, well, God would fight the battle with him wielding his weapons in whatever condition they were in. No! He spent time honing his skills. He spent time tending to his weapons. He was not satisfied, though he was absolutely content. Because he was content in his position, knowing that God had positioned him, all of his effort went into improving those skills and talents that God had given him in that position. If he was to be a warrior, he would hone the skills of war. If he was to wield a weapon, he would ensure that his weapon was ready whenever the call to war came.
So, I am in a period of practice, practice, practice. I have discovered a rather sudden thirst to know my instrument better, to recall to mind the lessons of my youth. I want to build on what God has given me, to bring it to such excellence as I can. Yet, I must be cautious. I must not allow this pursuit to become an idol before me, pulling me away from the One who has so blessed me. Even here in this room where I study, I need not look far from the screen in any direction to discover reminders of that urge to practice. A music book lies open to the left, a book long neglected, but now pulled out for study. Horns are out and at the ready to my right. A collection of reeds clutters the corner of my desk. My heart is anxious to gain the benefits of that practice. Yes, and already I have been tasting some of the fruits of that effort. It fires me to keep going, because frankly, running scales every day is not all that exciting. But, when I find I can manage keys I used to avoid scrupulously, when sudden key changes don’t phase me like they used to, I know that I am improving.
In so many ways, this parallels the Christian life. A gentleman I met recently, who showed me any number of things I needed to correct in my playing, spoke of certain things to practice. He compared them to something Zen-like, because the effect of practicing such things was so gradual. I don’t need Zen to understand gradual, though. Like I say, when I look at what God is doing with me, when I look at the impact of studying and abiding in Christ, I am not going to find some instantaneous change of momentous proportions. I tend to see so much that remains to be done, and I tend to see so little evidence of progress. But, that is because my attention span is so short. Looking for progress, I tend to be looking back a week, maybe a month, and I see no change. But, my God sees the end from the beginning, and presumably sees the beginning from the end, as well. Every now and then, He causes me to look back further, to recall what I was like before we met. Suddenly, the progress is very clear. Oh, there’s still plenty to work on, plenty to repent of, and more than enough of that was there at our meeting. But, what He has done! Zen-like? No, Christ-like! It is as He says here. “My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.”
Well, I seen in a few short paragraphs, I have managed to turn my thoughts to a couple of favorite themes: Caleb and music as a parable of Christianity. This is fine. But, I want to recall my thoughts to where they were heading. I need to walk carefully, to make certain that as I pursue this effort to excel, I don’t raise that effort above the One who gave me something to excel in. I have seen somewhat of what the world currently considers excellence, and it is an ugly thing. All beauty has gone out of it. This is, I think, the impact of pursuing excellence to the point of idolatry. I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to find that I have pursued this gift so blindly that I have walked away from the God who inspired the gift in me. He had to work pretty hard to wake me up to this thing in the first place. My eyes were always after other things, more glamorous, popular instruments. But, He has brought me to that place of contentment, a contentment beyond what I have experienced anywhere else. There are things I used to long after, leading worship, getting the songs I wanted to hear out there, and so on. These no longer have my attention. I am content in my place, I just want to be prepared for whatever He may have for me to do in that place.
As I pursue this craft, I want to remain certain that I am pursuing it with an eye to that preparedness, not as an end unto itself, but as a matter of standing ready to do whatever He has for me to do. There is so much I have yet to learn, here, and so little time, it seems, to learn it in. I have come late, as it were, to this place of hunger, but I am here.
Lord, as I pursue this, let me not forget that I am pursuing You. As I pursue this, keep Your hand and Your heart upon me, lest I get caught up and carried off. This is not the only gift You have entrusted into my hands. There are things more precious by far – a wife and help that continually amazes me, a daughter that needs my shepherding more than ever as she navigates her teens. It would be so easy to lose sight of them in pursuit of a dream, but You have warned, my God, that those who are led by dreams are led astray. Holy One, keep my perspective clear. Keep my eyes on the things that matter to You. Oh, I long to improve this talent You have given, to bring You return on Your investment in me, but not at the expense of those greater investments You have made. God, don’t let these be just words typed and forgotten, thoughts expressed and gone like the wind. Let my life reflect the lessons You have given me. Let me be such a one as manifests my claim to abiding in You.
There is a verse from Jeremiah that comes up as a parallel to this section, a verse that I have looked at before and which always seems to speak to me. “Stand by the road,” God says. “Ask for directions. Seek after the ancient paths, the good way. When you find it, walk in it, for there is the place you will find rest for your souls.” (Jer 6:16). Then comes the sorrowful conclusion: “But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’” The obvious connection here is in the thought of rest. Jesus proclaims, “Come to Me and I will give you rest.” He is the ancient Way. We need not ask after Him any more. He has put the signposts out and said, “Here I AM.” Yet, to our sorrow, we still tend to refuse. “We will not walk.” What stiff-necked obstinacy! Here is the offer of rest from the burdensome, odious labors that we have been subjected to by both sin and religiosity, and we refuse it. We are comfortable where we are. We have become so numb to our condition that we can’t imagine a better place.
Thinking about the setting into which Jesus spoke, the Israel of His day, the common, accepted face of religion was the way of the Pharisees. Oh, how they placed burdens on those who would seek God! Why, they had a thousand and one rules to be observed. They had burdens beyond counting that they would cheerfully foist upon the backs of whoever would listen, and not a one of those burdened souls drew so much as an inch closer to righteousness for all that effort. Into this comes One who proclaims relief from that burden, but the burden-carriers are so convinced of the worth of their vain labors that they dare not set down their loads.
To such as these, Jeremiah’s words cry out. “Ask for directions!” When you find the good way, your soul will find rest. I tell you, if your soul isn’t finding rest in the Lord, then you have not yet found the good way! Too much of what any church, however good they may be, offers to the believer is vain labor. We are forever clamoring after laborers to go to the fields, and there is nothing in particular wrong with that cry. But, we tend to forget that our labors are intended to be restful – balanced. Jesus did not look to His followers and say, “Come, and I will wear you out with many projects and ministries.” No! He said, “My yoke is easy, My load is light.” You will work, but not to exhaustion. You will labor, but not in vain. The Lord is building a house, and you are blessed with the opportunity to help Him out in that fine work. But, He does not require you to haul great stones upon your back, lifting them up to the ramparts. That was Pharaoh’s way. It is not the Lord’s way.
The call to return to the ancient ways is a call to return to restful labors. It is a call to balance. It is a call to set aside all the burdens that man has laid upon you and do only that to which the Lord has called you. It is so easy to get caught up in the need to be doing, doing, doing. We see so much that needs to be done in the kingdom and in the Church, and we see so few stepping forward to do their part. So, we begin to take on the burdens. We go beyond the point of Servanthood that models our Lord’s own example. A servant does what his master requires and desires. If he has been tasked with maintaining the kitchen, he doesn’t go into the bedrooms and tidy up. That is not his task, and if he has given his attention to that task it must be at the cost of neglecting his own. The master will not be well pleased, however hard he has worked on the bedrooms because the kitchen is not as it should be. By shouldering an unauthorized load, he has let his own proper work suffer. It must be thus, for we are all creatures of finite strength.
I seem to be back at a theme of balance. There is a place between refusing to do anything extra and doing everything but what we ought. There is a place wherein we are called to behave as a servant to our brothers and sisters. In that place, we are called to serve and to serve in a right spirit, not with grumbling and resentment, but with joy in being able to honor the image of God in that one we serve. There is absolutely no call, however, for picking up burdens that are not ours to bear. If the Lord is not directing us to the effort, then we labor in vain in making that effort. We are regressing into a works mentality. That still lies at the root of it, I think. We are still convinced that we have to somehow earn God’s favor. Failing to cling to the Truth of grace, we drive ourselves into a frenzy of effort, hoping to show our King how righteous we are. And, He looks upon us and says, “You have nothing to boast of before Me. You have nothing to prove to Me. I already did what needed doing because I love you. The way for you is to love Me. There, your soul will find rest.”
For my own part, I have found it necessary to stop and assess what I am doing. I have found it necessary, in particular, to assess what I am doing in and around the church. It is not that I have been doing bad things. It’s just that I’ve been doing the wrong things for the wrong reasons. I’ve allowed myself to get overly involved, giving a little here and a little there until I suddenly discover I’m giving more of me than I have. Then, resentment creeps in on the heels of exhaustion, and where is the use in that? Where is the witness? Where is the godliness? Jesus says, “I have done this as an example for you to follow.” I already looked at that, and it is indeed a call to serve, even to serve sacrificially. It is not, however, a call to burnout. Jesus taught His disciples to stop now and again, to go find time alone, to step back from ministry and recharge. We tend to forget that.
It is human nature, I suppose, to make religion a labor. However much we may realize that it isn’t supposed to be so, we seem to make it that way anyway. The Pharisees were all about the effort of religion. Catholicism gets off into ideas that we somehow can earn the favor of God. Protestants, for all our profession of sola gratia, still fall into it. Yet, where we make it a labor, Jesus makes it rest. He has not called us to odious, burdensome effort. He has called us to a labor that He says is light and restful.
Well, let me turn to my musical efforts of late. You know, running scales constantly is not the most fun one can have. It requires effort to train my fingers to do as they ought, to train my mouth to do as it ought. It takes time and energy. It would be very easy to look at such exercises as nothing but drudgery. As I have picked up some other exercises from this source or that, it is very hard to view them as musical. They are aimed, after all, at dealing with difficulties and issues that tend to plague the player. Here is a spot where you’ll tend to wind up sharp, so practice this ridiculous phrasing until you can do it and stay in tune. It is most assuredly not musical, not pleasing to listen to. It’s a labor. It’s hard work in its own right. Yet, there is something about this effort, at least at this stage of my life, that is utterly restful, however tiring it may be. That may not make sense right away, but it remains a truth.
Furthermore, the thing that makes this practicing a light and restful work for me is the same thing that God says will make the labors of the kingdom light and restful. John gives us the key to understanding this. “This is what loving God looks like,” he writes. “When we love God, we keep His commandments” (1Jn 5:3). Of course, John. That’s exactly what Jesus said. “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments.” There’s nothing new here, no profound revelation. No, what is profound is what John follows this with. “We keep His commandments, and we do not find His commandments burdensome.” It would be easy to look at that as simply telling us a basic fact about God’s commandments. We could see John simply saying, “God’s commandments are not burdensome.” Well, that’s his view, but if I try to keep them by my own power, I will quickly discover that they are a crushing weight on my shoulders! But, that’s not what he’s saying. He’s saying that love makes the difference. Our love for God makes the weight of obedience a light thing. It is not a burdensome matter. It is a joy to us, for it gives us a way to pursue and express our love for Him.
As I say, it is the same for me right now with the saxophone. As I have been expressing both here and in conversation with brothers whose counsel I cherish, I have fallen in love with this instrument in a way I never have known before. It comes near to scaring me, yet it is as it should be, for it is a gift given to me by my great Lover. My God has blessed me with this means of drawing beauty out of my soul to pour forth to Him. He has brought me to the place of being thoroughly and wonderfully contented in playing this instrument before Him, and He has joined it with a healthy dissatisfaction with settling for what I can express on it as I am. He is drawing me in love to know that horn more fully, as He draws me to know Him more fully. The parallels between my musical and spiritual pursuits just amaze me, for each pursuit teaches me of the other. Here, in pursuit of greater knowledge of my gifting, He has given me rest.
So many other things that I have been doing around the church have been stripped away, and it has required a rather forceful stripping. I am a man, after all, and I am tuned for action. I want to be doing, doing, doing. I like the appreciation that comes from doing, but that appreciation is, in the end, nothing but the praises of men. It may be the praises of godly men, but it is still just the praises of men. God has, I suspect, been wondering when I’d get back into the kitchen, where He assigned me.
So, I come with a new freshness, and a new determination to give my utmost to the things God has actually given me to do. I am so blessed that He has given me something for each side of the brain! He has satisfied my intellectual, reasoning side with study and the wonderful opportunity of teaching others from what He pours into me in these times. He has satisfied my artistic, creative side with the music He causes to flow through me. What a wonderful, kind, providing Father HE is! What a joyful, restful work it is when I allow myself to be satisfied in Him, when I am willing to do as He requires rather than as I think good.
Thank You, my Father, my God and my King! How blessed it is to be in Your household. How marvelously well You treat me, my Lord, and how shall I ever think I have deserved it! No, it is nothing of deserving. It is all of Your precious, rich, overflowing love for me. God! However much I might improve upon what I can bring before You, however much I may offer up to You as Your rightful return on the investment You have made in me, it can never begin to be enough. Yet, my love for You causes me to seek to bring You more than my best. How I long to bring Your best before You, to bring You an offering truly worthy of Your magnificence, Your benevolence. Thank You, Lord, for this fresh love You have sparked in my soul. Let it not eclipse my love for You, but only complement and enhance that love. Yes, and let me find refreshment in Your presence in all that You set me to do.
One last topic remains that I should like to pursue before leaving this passage. When Jesus speaks to His disciples, He declares them blessed. They are blessed because of privilege. They were privileged to witness what prophets and kings in previous ages had not only longed to see, but had been actively determined to see. We read it, “they wished to see,” but that wishing is not the dreamy, wouldn’t it be nice sort of wishing we tend to think of. It was willing. Even this is insufficient, for willing can be no more than the expression of a desire or preference. Here, Jesus speaks of active will. The choice being made, these men had taken action to see their choice brought to fruition.
We might better understand His words as saying something along the lines of, “they did all they could to come see My day come, but they did not see it.” They were determined. The prophets did not stop at declaring that the day would come, they did all they could to bring that day about, at least the good news part of it. That is why they were so insistent on national repentance, because without that repentance only the dark part of the day could be expected. The better kings of Israel did not just wish they had come to the throne in better times. No! We see Josiah actively pursuing the Day of the Lord, tearing down every altar that would compete with the One True God. He was doing what he could to bring God’s Law back before the eyes of those he had been given to rule. He was actively pursuing a repentance that could usher in the Lord’s presence.
This is all to the good. We are blessed to read of the determination of men like Josiah and Nehemiah. We are excited by the words of the prophets, even as they bring their stinging concerns, because we see the hope that is offered beyond the horizon of repentance. If we will but come to this place, we see that there is a promise of good things beyond. They encourage us to face the pain of truth so that Truth can change our mourning into joy.
There are those even in our day who are in this same place. Indeed, I watch our own pastor, as he seeks to wake up his charges. We long to hear of revival in our day and in our town, but we are not all that anxious to hear about the prerequisites. Yet, this man stands before us with the same longing, but also with the Truth of God. There are things we must face in ourselves if we would be face to face with the King. He will not come without active will on our own part, although we should not fall into thinking that it is our doing that will cause Him to come.
The corrective is here in what Jesus says. These whom we read about, the best of those who walked before us, were actively determined to do everything they could to see Jesus in their day. They were doing everything they could to bring revival. But, it didn’t come. Jesus did not show up in their lifetime. Can I explain this? Our will determines nothing! Don’t get me wrong. God loves to see His children in agreement with Himself. He loves to see us in one accord. It blesses His socks off. But, agree or not, He is going to do what He will do. This covers every act of God. It covers the fact that we are alive and breathing this morning. It covers the fact that, for those of us who are in Him, we are in Him. It also covers the fact that those who are not are not. For all we want to somehow have done something that caused God to look upon us with favor, He insists on the truth that we did nothing. Indeed, there is nothing we could do to deserve the favor He has already shown. What have I ever done to deserve this life? In what way can I possibly claim to have done for God in such a way that He owes me? No, I am the one in debt, and I owe Him everything. I owe Him more than everything.
These men of whom Jesus speaks did everything in their power, everything they knew to do to see His day, but they didn’t. They worked hard for the ministry. They devoted themselves to ministry. They lived sacrificially. Was it fruitless, then? For, they failed of their goal, apparently. No! It was hardly fruitless. Because of their devotion to this vision, many in Israel were saved. They did not see His day from the earth, but they did see it. They saw it from the place of waiting. When Jesus descended and then ascended with the keys of death and Hades, who do you suppose made up the captivity that He led away from captivity? It was these very same ones who had so longed for Him. He is, after all, the One who says, “seek and you will find. Ask, and you shall receive.” Only, our human tendency is to limit the response to the brief span of our days on earth.
On the negative side of this, I have to also admonish that there are those who may seek without finding. There are those who, by God’s sovereign will, are beyond repentance. There is nobody who has fallen so far that God cannot save, but there are those that He will not save. That sounds harsh, I know. Paul knew it, too, but he wasn’t going to lie about it because it was harsh. Then, I read this in Hebrews 12:16-17: Esau sold his birthright for one simple meal. We might argue that this was of an accord with God’s plan, for by this foolishness Jacob obtained the blessing of the Promise. But, that evades the point as it evades responsibility. That is sin seeking to show itself justified. But, hear how the Writer of the Book continues this thought. “You know that as much as he desired to retrieve that blessing, he was rejected.”
That desire he expressed is the same sort of willing that we are talking about with the kings and the prophets. He was active in pursuing this. He was doing everything he knew how to do in order to correct the foolish mistake he had made. But, hear this: “He found no place for repentance, though he sought for it with tears.” Wow! He was actively, determinedly seeking to repent, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how. It wasn’t that he lacked interest in the concept. He was blocked from repenting. However much he wanted to change, it was not allowed. The same God whose will determined that I would be saved likewise determined that this one would not. Do I understand why? Not in the least. But, I must understand by the words of the One who chooses that it is His choice and His choice alone that makes the difference.
Here was a man doing everything he knew to do in order to correct his own error and God rejected the efforts. Over there are the ones who devoted themselves to pursuing His ways and teaching others to do likewise, and He defers their greatest request from Him, because it pleased Him to do so. He gave a degree of light to many wise men in many lands, but He refused to give them the explanation in full, so that they became swollen with the pride of their own learning and were made fools. Why? Because it served His plan and purpose to do so. He chose to save such as me in spite of myself. He chose to bring me to a salvation I had no use for. Why? Because it apparently serves His plan and purpose to do so. So, now I am here typing out these thoughts, offering up what He shows me in His word. Why? Because it has seemed to me that this is one of the things He has asked me to do. Does anybody read it? I cannot say. But, I can say that He has not told me to stop, so I shall continue for love of Him.
I am also brought up short when I read of Esau, for this stands as a warning for me. I look at the fact that Esau sought for ‘it’ with tears. Well, I suppose that there is room to question what ‘it’ refers to; whether to the blessing or the repentance. A quick survey is in order, I think.
Barnes says emphatically that this is not to be seen as suggesting there are those that cannot repent, that sorrow over sin could prove fruitless. It is, instead, a matter of throwing away the privilege and blessing of religion. The Geneva notes point out that the real nature of his supposed repentance showed in his threats of murder against his brother when his father refused to change his blessing. From the JFB, it becomes clear that the repentance he sought was not his own, but his father’s. Vincent’s offers the thought that it was neither Isaac’s blessing nor repentance that he could find no place for, but that what he could not find was a way to change his previous actions and their consequences by repentance.
Well, I would have to say that this removes the thought that I had when reading through that passage, and much to my relief, I might add. It is well to be reminded that there is always a place for real repentance, that God will never reject a broken and contrite heart. With that note, then, I think I shall return to the call Jesus issues in Matthew 11:28. “Come to me, you heavily laden ones and I will give you rest.” You, who feel such a burden of sin, come let Jesus take that burden from you. Come and find the rest that the love of Christ can provide. Come and repent. There is a place here for you at the feet of Jesus.
Hear that, oh my soul! There is a place for repentance. Yes, and there remains much to repent of. Take the opportunity to heart, and let us go to Him in earnest. Yes, Jesus, I am here before you. I come in sorrow, for I have again seen how easily I set aside the victories You have won, how quickly I am yet willing to return to the vomit of my past. What does it take, my King? How shall I cling to You better? When shall I have come to the point that I can walk through a day, or even an hour, without shaming myself before You? God! I cannot hope for any better apart from You, but I am not apart from You. I know You are with me, and You comfort me. Oh, Lord! Bring the change! Purge me of those things that so easily ensnare and distract me from You. Whatever it takes, my God, I would that You would do so in me. Yes, and I shall thank You, for I know You hear me. I know You are pleased to answer when my heart cries after Your ways. Though I cannot change the past, I can willingly submit to what You would change in my present and in my future, and this I do. Come, Lord Jesus, and have Your way in me. Let it be unto me as You have said.
