New Thoughts (03/04/11-03/09/11)
In these events of the third day in Jerusalem, we are watching something of a mental wrestling match between Jesus and the temple authorities. These authorities come out in hopes of getting Jesus in a headlock as to the question of His authority. However, both in His immediate answer to them and in these parables that follow, His authority is seen in that He quite handily manages to put them in exactly the sort of headlock they thought to inflict upon Him. And, He does so repeatedly.
With that in mind, take note of the fact that certain of the translations, the NASB in particular, relay this parable with the order of the sons reversed. That is to say, most of the translations lead with the son who refused by word but acceded by action, whereas the NASB and a few others lead with the other son. The NET makes mention of some manuscripts offering a third reading wherein the authorities select the wrong son when they answer Jesus, suggesting they really thought that appearances were more important than reality. OK. Having written that, I am inclined to suppose that this really is what they thought. However, that being the case, they would never have been so crass as to make this truth evident.
As noted in the preparatory notes of this study, the order used by the NASB offers us somewhat of a congruity with the lesson contained in the lives of Jacob and Esau. Esau, the first son, had the privilege, the primacy, the right of inheritance. But, he threw it away. Jacob, however much one might question his ethics, valued what Esau did not, and did all in his power to obtain that privilege and inheritance as his own. He succeeded, too. Again, his ethics were questionable, and we might learn from that as well. It is not our fine qualities that commend us to God, for we are none of us any much better than Jacob, really. There was one thing that could be said in his favor: He recognized what Jesus referred to as that pearl of greatest price, and he sold everything – one might say even his soul – to obtain it. And this desirous effort God honored in spite of the character He found in Jacob. One may be troubled by this, it is true. But, as one considers his own character with the open eyes of true assessment, one might very well be greatly relieved as well.
The thing that the NET would have us be aware of, and it is well worth the attention, is that the order in which the sons are presented in this parable would have certain clear implications to those listening. The nature of rabbinic parable would, according to this source, cause the hearer to presuppose the suggestion of birth order in what Jesus was saying. In other words, the first mentioned would be presumed to represent the firstborn, with the privileges that implies. That being the case, there would be a natural tendency in the listeners to identify with the son first mentioned. The thing to consider, then, his how that would play out in each of the two orders of presentation.
In the order used by the NASB, the hearer would have sensed the trap pretty early on, but have been unable to avoid it. So soon as Jesus arrived at the clause, “and he did not go,” they would have a bad feeling about where this was going, and they would begin to squirm a bit, sensing that they were caught. In the order use by the NKJV, their pleasant self-delusion might last a bit longer. OK, yes, that first son speaks rashly at first, but he is the obedient one just the same, and you can imagine them nodding approvingly as they consider themselves being represented thus. Yes, they can take the long view. They are the proper representatives of the nation, and to be sure, the nation had its times. But, they who stood here now represented the movements that had changed all that. They were the righteous ones, the called out, the separated. The nation of Israel, then, represented in this firstborn, had its faults, but not in those who stood here at the moment. They had at the last obeyed. Thus their thinking was running.
The description of the second son, following this ordering, would do nothing to dissuade them from their illusions. The parable, after all, was not to be pressed on its every detail, so while it would be hard to imagine the Gentiles ever having had any opportunity to claim they would do as God said, yet their failure was clear to one and all, surely. They might even have been thinking of all those commoners hanging around to watch this match, which would allow a more natural fit to their way of thinking. It’s pretty clear they had a low opinion of the common Israelite. So, to their ears, an accusation that these commoners, for all their words in support of piety, did nothing to attain to it would ring true. The commoners, after all, weren’t Pharisees, were they? They weren’t of Aaron’s line, to be sure. They simply didn’t have what it takes to be righteous. And yet, it never occurred to them that this situation in the common man was a particularly poor reflection on such proud religious leaders as themselves! If they didn’t know how to pursue righteousness, whose fault was that?
This ordering of the parable, then, would have these leaders far more deeply implanted into the parable’s trap mechanism before said mechanism was sprung. They are practically puffed up with pride as they give their answer. Yes, that first son, he is the obedient one, and that’s us, don’t you know. SNAP! The jaws of the trap are swiftly upon them and there’s no escape! No, no. That’s not you at all. That’s these ones you think so little of: the sinners you have supposed to be beyond hope of redemption. And, I tell you quite plainly, they will reach heaven long before your ilk, supposing you ever get there. They had the good sense to repent of their ways, while you continue stiff-necked and proud, rejecting the teachers through whom their miraculous turnaround has come. He warned you and you ignored him. You saw the changed lives of those who did not, and still you ignored him. Even now, you do not believe, refuse to believe what is clearly evident before your own eyes. Even now, you will not change, and thus, your end is settled.
Honestly, either order presents a very neat snare for these self-righteous ones. Whether it is the dreadful recognition that they are caught from the outset of the story, and knowing they cannot evade the point to come, or whether it is the pride exposed to the surprise ending, the power and ingenuity of that parable is little changed. In this fencing match, it is swiftly made clear that the authorities are utterly overmatched by this Authority they choose to call into question.
Turning to the overall progress of events briefly, take note of the nature of Jesus’ activities on each successive day. On day 1, the King makes His entrance and assesses the situation of this kingdom He has conquered. This is seen in His brief survey of the temple courts before returning to Bethany. On day 2, the King brings discipline. What He has observed on the first day He corrects rather forcibly on the second. That discipline is far more than simply inflicting His will on the recalcitrant natives. It’s more than imposing His rules. It is the presenting of opportunity. This is, after all, the nature of God’s disciplining of His own. It is the opportunity to repent while still there is time. Discipline, as He teaches us, is never pleasant at the time, but where discipline is accepted, it produces a most wondrous fruit in the life of the disciplined. However, we are arrived at day 3 and on day 3, judgment is rendered. That is what’s happening here.
Considering the bare words of the narrative, one might be inclined to think that the leadership instigated all this action, and it would therefore be foolish to suppose that there was a greater plan and purpose at work. Of course, to think thusly would be to dismiss the Authority just as these leaders had done. No. They have come of their own accord, but they have come on God’s schedule just the same. All is unfolding according to His perfect plan and timetable, as it ever has and ever shall. So, out they come to face their Judge, whatever they might have thought they were doing. They came to accuse and now they stand accused. You had opportunity. Even so recently as yesterday when this court was cleared of the trade you encouraged, you might have taken it to heart and considered how very wrong your actions had been. But, instead you took offense. Who is this who dares to challenge you? Well, now you know. It is God. You have had every opportunity, every advantage, and like Esau before you, you have cast it all away in favor of a momentary life of ease. That moment is rapidly coming to a close for you.
This deserves our attention, this progression of days. Assessment, opportunity, and judgment: these are in their way the phases of sanctification. There might possibly be some who have not found any cause for criticism, having come to the Lord. Perhaps, just perhaps, there is somebody who has not had that spotlight shined into their soul and recoiled at the filth thus revealed. Perhaps, but it would fly in the face of God’s own assessment to discover this truly to be the case. If, then, we have not arrived at that moment of horrified realization as to just how depraved we truly are, then we must surely fear that we have not so much as begun this process of sanctification. We must dread the day we are informed that we, like the Pharisees, failed to recognize the Truth, rejected the Truth, and stand condemned after all.
That first phase is out and out necessary if we are to arrive at the second. If Jesus has not come and made His assessment, and made it in such fashion as is plain to our eyes, we will not recognize discipline when it comes. We will not see it as opportunity, but only as aggravation.
There was something in yesterday’s Table Talk article that really caught my attention, one of those confluence of messages moments. The article had to do with crushing our idols, and the repeated motif of Scripture in that regard. Over and over, we see the reformers come, tear up the idols from their places, crush them, burn them, and scatter their ashes on the waters to be washed away. There is much said as to the imagery here, and its correspondence to the imagery of the sacrificial system and, more importantly, the Crucifixion of the Christ. But, that which really caught my eye was the description of Hezekiah’s reform. Here’s the passage: “So the priests went in to the inner part of the house of the Lord to cleanse it, and every unclean thing which they found in the temple of the Lord they brought out to the court of the house of the Lord. Then the Levites received it to carry out to the Kidron valley” (2Chr 29:16).
Bring this into present context for the believer. We are, Scripture tell us, the temple of God (1Co 3:16), of the Holy Spirit (1Co 6:19). “What agreement has the temple of God with idols?”, Paul asks. “For we are the temple of the living God as He Himself said: ‘ I will dwell in them, I will walk among them. I will be their God and they shall be My people’” (2Co 6:16). Juxtapose this with the activity of the priests of Hezekiah’s reform. They went into the inmost parts of the temple to cleanse it. This is sanctification. We are the temple, and God Himself is our High Priest, gone in to our inmost parts to do this work of cleansing. And, He brings out, exposes to our sight, ‘every unclean thing which is found’. Why? Does He seek so to shame us? Does He find entertainment value in seeing us thus embarrassed and ashamed? Of course not. He is, as well as our High Priest, our Great Physician, and He knows that the disease left under cover will fester and become deadly. It must be exposed to be treated. So, then: Who shall we set in the place of the Levites? In this parallel, let us see ourselves in that role. We are called to carry that garbage out as it is exposed, to remove it from our city. Get rid of it! Bring it out to that place where it shall be crushed, burned and cast on the waters to be washed away.
If one wants to consider that in the imagery of the Gospel, lay it there at the foot of the cross. Indeed, crucify it! Let these things be destroyed from our midst so utterly as to never again be reconstituted. Then, let the cleansing blood of Christ wash us clean, and let that cleansing furthermore wash those sins away not only from our record but from our consideration. Is this not the process of sanctification? Is this not the very picture of discipline and repentance? These are the necessary precursors for Life. That was the message John bore before Christ: Repent, for the Kingdom is nigh. The throne of the Judge is being set up and you have done nothing to ameliorate your sentence. Day 3 is coming, when all opportunity for repentance, for change, will be passed once for all. No further appeals remain. The case has been thoroughly reviewed, and the Judge has already rendered His opinion. All that remains is the sentencing.
Well, my friend, that day awaits for each of us. That process, for the nonce, continues. We are as yet in day 2, but we shall not be there always. Day 3 comes on His schedule, at a time unexpected, and the question He asked His disciples to consider then remains pertinent to us today: Will you be found ready? For my own part, I could as well ask if I will be found so. Assurance in Christ’s work notwithstanding, I would do well to really take a look at my own condition. There is a reason that Paul, for all his own understanding that salvation is through Christ alone and therefore more certain than the sunrise, advises us to work out our salvation in fear and trembling. This is not the contradiction it might appear. It is an acknowledgement of our capacity for self-deception. It is the means by which we may hope to avoid the error of the Pharisees.
The Pharisees would have been the first to profess their confidence as to what would befall them on Day 3. Yet, they were absolutely wrong, as Jesus is telling them here. It seems to be nearly inevitable that the Christian, over the course of his growth, arrives at something of that same confidence, and with the same inherent risk of discovering too late that their confidence is misplaced. We start, to be sure, with a profound trust in Christ. But, somewhere along the way, it seems one of two things happens. Either we begin to return to trusting in our own efforts, imagining them to have some merit in the matter, or, understanding the utter lack of merit in our works, we cease working altogether. Neither development is to our good.
For my own part, I think I trend towards that latter case, the sort of behavior that comes of knowing my works are of no merit, but neglecting the reality that they matter anyway. There remains that very real situation that James makes clear. Though our salvation be by faith alone, it is impossible that we have been granted such faith and works commensurate with that faith would not be plainly evident in us. Or, as Paul paints the picture for us, it is impossible that we, having crucified sin, should continue to wallow in it. If, then, there is still that habitual wallowing, we must accept and recognize that the crucifixion never happened in us. And, if that has not yet happened, then the saving grace which is its necessary precursor is not ours. We remain utterly dead in our sins, and any illusions of faith we may hold are no more than that: illusions, and most deadly ones at that.
So, yes, I am painfully conscious of having a certain affinity for the Pharisaic view of the world. I may not put my trust in lineage, but I am just as capable of trusting in things of no value. If I trust that these times of study are sufficient to provide evidence of faith, I am misplacing my trust. If I allow myself to become convinced that all this head knowledge is enough in itself, I am utterly deluded. Yet, I do find that the doing of what this understanding leaves in no doubt is a very difficult thing. I can shout out, “I’m not ashamed of the Gospel,” but what is it my actions proclaim when I’m out amongst the great unwashed? I confess a certain dread that they proclaim something quite different.
I hear our pastor calling for acts of love from us, anonymous acts, and honestly, I am nigh unto paralyzed. For a neighbor? I don’t even know my neighbors. How would I have the slightest clue what needs they might have that I could address? For church family? Hey, we’re new here. I know about one family in any great detail, and I don’t really think they have any particularly dire needs. Time was, but that time has passed. My own family? Right. In many ways, getting through each day is an act of love, if it is not a failure to love. Don’t misunderstand this. My love for my wife and my daughter is great. But, the challenges of raising that daughter can make it difficult at times for love to express itself. And, the health issues that so plague my beloved wife can become very stressful for all in the house. Where love prevails, we can ignore the pained frustration that she may tend to display in the midst of trial and be loving support, a voice of peace. But, it wears on one, and the likelihood of an equally pained frustration expressing itself instead is great.
Daily, then, I am faced with the need to repent. Yet how often do I truly do so? Have I ever? After all, to repent indicates real change. That’s the point Jesus is making by bringing up the tax-collectors and the prostitutes. Look! They really repented. Their lives are not the same. The tax-collectors still collect taxes, to be sure, but only what is required. The usury and extortion is gone out of them. The prostitutes no longer sell themselves. They have been redeemed because they recognized their unpreparedness for a holy kingdom’s king, and they sought to do something about it.
I often recognize that I am wholly unready for Him. Utterly unready in spite of the years, in spite of learning, in spite of everything. Why is that, and what do I do about it? That’s the problem. I see what I am and I sense what I ought to be and frankly, I opt for what I am. That’s not repentance, is it? Nope. I may get to regret, but it’s a regret that is pretty certain I’ll be going out to do the same thing again pretty shortly. That in itself is a matter to be repented of, and even thinking about it, I feel something rise in me that wants nothing to do with such matters. Sad, really. This is a severe problem, and I would like to think it is not something unique to my own situation. It is the problem of the Pharisee in me.
Lord, I don’t even know what to do with this, but I know I cannot leave the topic without turning to You, my Savior. If anything, this present state of mine must convince me the more that I remain in most desperate need of You. Not that this has been in any doubt, but my God! I cannot continue as I am and suppose it’s alright. Yet, I find myself powerless to change. Yes, I understand that I have always been powerless in my own power, but it seems as though I ought to be farther along given Your abiding presence and power in me. You know, my God, the things that cling to me, the habits that it seems just refuse to die. I certainly cannot kill them off, but neither can I simply accept them on the basis that You don’t seem inclined to do anything about them. God! Holy Spirit! Teach me how to truly repent of such activities. Teach me how to truly repent, lest I find that I have been as deluded as those You set before my eyes as a lesson. There is a certain dread upon me, seeing my present state of affairs, a dread that knows that You have not abandoned me, but that also knows that I have hardly been pleasing in Your sight. I need, my Lord, that change which only You can accomplish in me, and I do indeed find cause in my progress to date to suppose that You shall surely bring that change. But, might I ask, dare I ask, that You would speed the day when that change has come? Holy God in heaven, I pray that You would do as You must to see this man brought into Your image, and I pray even more that You would find me a willing companion in that work.
Now, here is an interesting aspect to the parable at hand. Jesus steers clear of the demand for repentance at this point. It’s somewhat reminiscent of His later reparations with Peter. He first asks Peter if Peter loves Him in that deeply significant agape way. Again, the second time, He asks in regard to this most valued love. But, the third time, He asks for something less. I rather like the way Pastor Ed expressed it last week. “Do you even like Me?”
Just so, on this occasion, the demand for repentance has been reduced. We’ll settle for regrets at this point. That obedient son from the parable: He hadn’t suddenly developed sound character, that he should go work for his father after all. No, the term used to describe his mental state has far more to do with dreading the consequences if he didn’t do so. As a matter of preference and given the ability to get away with it, he would still refuse the command to work tomorrow and every day thereafter. He’s just not interested in such things. Let me stay here and enjoy the benefits, but don’t ask me to do anything. Yet, he goes, and this is counted as obedience, so far as we view things. But, the motivation, what is it? It is dread of what will befall should he really refuse.
This same term is all Jesus says He is looking for from the priests and Pharisees. You saw the change in these most unredeemable of people, and even then, you didn’t feel the least remorse for your own condition. Even then, you didn’t have the good sense to fear the consequences of inaction. And you think yourselves fit to lead? For shame!
Oh! It’s so easy to look at these men, so stiff-necked and proud, and wag our disapproving finger at them. How could they be so foolish? How could they be so blind? Ah, but truth be told, this is probably ninety percent of our own condition if not more. Why do you battle with sin, assuming you battle at all? What moves you to desire to change? We know the answer we ought to give. We know that the motivation ought to be a love for this God Who saved us, and simple desire to please Him. But, in reality, a larger motivation is dread of the consequences of failure. If we don’t change, we’re still waiting for the hammer to fall. We’re still staring at the full penalty clause. We’re still trying to be good enough. In short, we’ve achieved regret, but we’ve a ways to go to get to earnest repentance. God willing, we shall make it, though.
There is a clause contained in Jesus’ declaration of the parable’s point that deserves closer attention. John, He says, came ‘in the way of righteousness’. We might lay that alongside Jesus’ on claim that He IS the Way (Jn 14:6), as well as John’s mission to “Make ready the way of the Lord” (Mk 1:3). Early on into the book of Acts, we find that those early Christians were spoken of as “belonging to the Way” (Ac 9:2). We will hear this way referred to as “the way of salvation” (Ac 16:17), “the way of the Lord” (Ac 18:25), “the way of peace” (Lk 1:79). These stand in contrast to “the way of Balaam” (2Pe 2:15), and “the way of Cain” (Jude 11). What, though, is this way, and what does it signify?
To speak of such a way is to indicate the path or road one travels in life. In other words, it indicates one’s manner of acting, one’s customs. It can also indicate the means by which one may attain to a particular goal. Here, these concepts combine. It is that manner of thinking, feeling, deciding and acting which is the means of attaining to righteousness, that order of conduct which God prescribes and approves. Think on that for just a moment. God has prescribed this way. He has indicated His approval of those who travel in this way. Atop this, we are told that John came demonstrating this very way. Well, then, why does it seem so difficult to perceive just what that way is?
If this is the way God prescribed then it would seem reasonable to seek out that way in those places where He has most clearly laid out His prescription for man. Thus, we might do well to consider the Law, at least as we have it reduced in the Ten Commandments. In fact, we might even start by considering that Law as Jesus reduced it down to two: Love God, Love Man. That’s it, really, isn’t it? That’s the sum-total of God’s blueprint for righteousness. Simple in form, all but impossible in practice.
To declare our love for God, that’s easy enough. But, to really live like we mean it? That’s exceedingly difficult to do, more difficult yet to maintain with any consistency. If I love God, then I must ask myself how it is that I persist in doing things my own way. I must ask myself how it is that I am not thoroughly and exclusively devoting my time and energy to matters pertaining to His kingdom. If I love Him and serve Him, then what am I doing for Him? What am I doing to please Him? The answer I see is not much. I do my studies. I go to church. I go to prayer. I lend my talents to teaching and worship as the occasion arises. But, really, that’s next to nothing. I again look at this call to go out and do some acts of anonymous love, and I’m stymied. Can’t see where to begin, what to do. How can that be? This is not the way.
As to my fellow man, my neighbor (or even my family), I find the challenge equally great. I suppose the issue is in part that I’m not particularly lovable myself. I’m certainly not particularly tolerant of those who impinge upon my perceptions of how things should be. I am, I suppose, a proud member of that society which professes, “Think what you like if you agree with me.” I’m an introvert by nature, and not overly inclined to seek out new acquaintances, certainly not to try inserting myself into the lives of some folks I don’t know. Or maybe these are all but excuses for my primary failure, that I just don’t particularly care for my fellow man, apart from that select few. Could be.
The theologian in me can look upon this verdict and recognize that yes, this is the Law doing exactly what it ought. It is pointing out to me the futility of my situation apart from the God of the Law. It is pointing out how very far I am from that way God has prescribed. It is forcing me to recognize the very real, very deep need I have for that which He provided in His Son, Jesus the Christ. He is the Way. In a very real sense, whatever else may be discerned of the way of righteousness, the end result must surely be that we arrive at an ever deepening recognition that it is only through reliance upon Him that we have any hope at all of achieving that which God intends for us.
This is true, and praise God that He has made the Way where there is no way. Yet, I am brought back to the fact that this does not entirely alleviate us of responsibility. If this is indeed the way in which we ought to travel, then we must at the very least keep trying to travel in that way. It is one thing to call upon the Lord in repentance and regret because we see we have missed the way yet again. It is quite another to wander merrily along without any least concern for whether we are upon the way or completely astray. Were this not the case, then there would be no particular reason for Jesus to have pointed out John’s example here.
John came demonstrating the way of life which leads to righteousness. What are we to make of that? What is it about John that we are to take to heart? Should we all take to wearing sackcloth? To foraging in the wilderness for our sustenance? Clearly, it is not a matter of such external things that Jesus would indicate as our model. If externals counted, then those Pharisees He so often upbraided would have been praised for their exemplary lifestyle instead.
Well, then, what was it John showed us? First and foremost, he demonstrated a life lived with all eyes on the kingdom of God. His life was given over to kingdom purposes. This does not necessitate us to suppose that in order to live a kingdom life we must absolutely set aside all thought for life and livelihood. But, it might require that of certain of us. At the very least, it requires that we begin to consider our circumstance in light of the kingdom. If I am employed in this particular trade, what is the kingdom purpose in my employment? Why this trade? Why this company, these coworkers? What is it that my King would have me to do with this situation He has provided me?
Fortunately, we are not without instruction in that regard. One very simple instruction we have is that we are to give our employer an honest day’s work, whether he be believer or not, whether he is there to see it or not. We are to be honest in our dealings with this boss, to exemplify that righteousness towards which we strive. Consider the answers John gave to those who came asking him what this news of the kingdom meant for them in their situations. A soldier asks what this means for him. He is, after all a man of war, and Messiah is the Prince of Peace. Must he therefore leave the army behind? Would Rome even let him? But, the answer he is given is not that he must find a new trade, only that he not abuse the power given him as a warrior. Use it as directed, but not for personal gain or advantage.
Likewise those tax-collectors that Jesus notes here. When they found cause to wonder what this repentance must mean for their ilk, John does not require them to seek employment elsewhere. Neither does he advise them to look out for their fellows at the expense of the Romans who employed them. No. He simply says to them that they ought to collect no more than their employers require. Again, not for personal gain or advantage.
So, can we apply that to our lives today? In many ways we are blessed to live in a much less harsh environment than was prevalent then. But, we still have many of the same issues, even if the guise is different. Even in our modern workplaces, we can apply these principles. When in a meeting, let your statements be factual, honorable. Never comment on a coworker for your own gain or advantage. How does this manifest? A very common case would be to comment negatively on a coworker’s ability or performance in hopes of looking better yourself. This can become a thing which is almost subconscious. We may not even recognize the motivation until well after the thing is said. Ever been there? Ever find yourself wondering why you spoke as you did?
Another aspect that comes more and more into play is the impact of having Internet access in the workplace. For some of us, the jobs we do would be impossible to contemplate without that access. Yet, it also represents a constant temptation, doesn’t it? The browser is right there. I could be catching up on the news, perhaps amusing myself with some video. But, I’m on company time. How can I suppose that’s right? Worse yet, many a believer has managed to justify these things by going out to religious websites, as if somehow that fact set aside the instruction to render a good day’s work to your employer. We need to be the more conscious of this temptation, as we can rest assured that those we work with know our profession of faith, and will look upon these actions as reason to discredit the faith.
Here, then, are some very simple and immediate ways in which John came demonstrating the way of righteousness. Indeed, the very core of his message, that the kingdom is at the door and we’re not ready, that we have great need to not only regret our mistakes but repent of them; that is the way. When the Christ of God stood amidst the crowds listening to John, and he said, “Behold the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” (Jn 1:29), he was pointing out the Way.
This is the epitome of that way of righteousness. Those listening to John were intimately familiar with the sacrificial system. They were steeped in the traditions, knew very well that the blood of the lamb was that which was prescribed to atone for their sins, that the goat sent into the wilderness was symbolic of their sins being taken away and laid upon another. They got that. They lived that. Annually, they undertook to be in Jerusalem for the Atonement, to know that once again God had forgiven all the sins of the previous year. They knew, then, what John was getting at when he spoke that way. Here is the Sacrifice! When this One is offered up, it’s for keeps.
Listen, the sum of it is that we know full well that the Law is beyond our capacity to keep. Even that most simplified form that devolves to Love God, Love Man is beyond our capacity. Many of us have all we can do to even love ourselves, let alone anybody else. What this means for us is that we all have more than sufficient cause to repent and where there is cause there is need. This, once again, was at the very root of John’s message. Repent, because the kingdom is at hand. When he advised those who came asking what this meant for them, he made clear that repentance was not something one could do in feelings alone, in prayer alone. Repentance, like real love, requires action. Regrets may not change a thing about us, other than to make us blue for a time. But, repentance involves a shift in character.
Repentance is a matter of turning around. It is not just the recognition that we’re on the wrong road, but actually reversing course to get back on the road we should be traveling. If you would like to see repentance, Zaccheus is a fine example. In that moment of finding himself accepted in Christ, he immediately comes to this determination: I shall pay back double anything by which I’ve defrauded another, and even that’s not enough. I’ll give half of my worth to the poor. That’s a shocking shift. Here’s this despised taxman – rich, but despised. He’s gotten where he is today by caring for nobody but himself. After all, nobody else was going to care for him. And, he’s done well for himself on that basis, at least so far as the civil eye might measure things. He’s living large. He’s quite comfortable thank you. And, if polite society won’t have much to do with him, well, he can find companionship enough with the impolite. Yet, in this moment all of that mindset is challenged and cast aside. In this moment, he sees the folly of his attitudes and habits and makes the determination to manage a full about face. And, he says so publicly. Isn’t that something?
There’s a certain personal benefit to making such a public repentance: It gives us greater cause to hold to our word. If Zaccheus had made no more than an inner determination which he later reneged upon, who would know? But, if he has made this proclamation of most righteous intent and then fails to act upon it, he would become an even greater pariah than he already was. He would be a laughingstock and worse. No, that spoken intentional contrition has established a very strong incentive to hold to it.
This is, I suspect, a large part of why our resolutions generally fail. For one, we make them in the full expectation of failure. For another, we make them, most often, in private thought. After all, we reason, if others knew our resolution they would also be very much aware of the failure of our resolve. That’s an embarrassment we just don’t need to expose ourselves to, now, isn’t it? But, John left no real room for private repentance. No, that baptism was an admission in itself. It was a confessing that one had every need for repentance. Much as our own Christian baptism tends to be accompanied by a vocal profession of faith, one might expect that John’s baptism was accompanied by a vocal confession of that of which one was repenting. Confess one to another, the Scriptures say, and yet it is a thing we most hope to avoid doing. But, that confession, vocal admission of sin and vocal resolution to change, is intended to be an aid to our efforts. It’s the first step in being accountable to another. The second, of course, is honesty in the face of failure. A thing once repented of may yet require repentance again, perhaps many times, before we have real victory over the thing. One supposes it may take even a lifetime of repentance. But, our assurance is not in having kept ultra-short accounts with God. Our assurance is in the Way, the Lamb of God Who took away our sins when He took away the sins of the world.
What, then, ought we to learn of righteousness from John’s example? What is this way in which he himself lived? There are several things that come to mind. To begin, there is his determination to challenge the celebration of sin. This is exactly what led to his demise. Even amongst the great, he would not suffer sin to go unremarked. Second, something of a corollary to the first, he did not require the extremes of an ascetic lifestyle as a necessary component of righteousness. He may have chosen such a life for himself, but he did not lay that upon others as a requirement. Again, when they came asking what this way of righteousness meant for them, for the most part he did not counsel a change of profession, only a change of character in pursuing that profession. Here then was a man who exemplified the godly characteristic of speaking the truth in love. Even his accusations against Herod were leveled with this attitude, brought out in the hopes that maybe even he might come to repentance and find the salvation that offered.
A third lesson in righteousness found in John’s example is that contained in his famous declaration, “He must increase and I must decrease.” Would that we would take this more to heart in our time! Ministry cannot afford to be about the minister. If the minister is not all about magnifying God and remaining as it were invisible for his own part, then he is no minister at all. This is a problem in many parts of the kingdom. It is perhaps most prevalent amongst the televangelists and paraministries that have so proliferated given the communications media available to us today. But the problem is not restricted to their ilk. We are just as prone to making our own little corner of ministry more about ourselves and less about Him. John would have none of that. Look at what he did when he saw that Jesus was on the scene! He did not seek to preserve his own ministry at all cost. He did not try to shield his own disciples from coming to this Man. Instead, he actually pointed Jesus out to his disciples, said, “There’s the One you should be pursuing!” Behold the Lamb!
Later, as he languishes in prison, he sends his disciples to Jesus with questions. It is tempting, and perhaps easy, to read that account and suppose that John was having doubts, given his situation. However, given the character of John and the continued regard in which Jesus held him even in death, that seems an unlikely reading of events. More in keeping with the character of John would be that he had sent these men to Jesus for their own edification, to bolster their own confidence. One suspects that had John seen how his disciples continued the cult of his name after his demise, he would have been most embarrassed for them, and would have spoken to them in no uncertain terms to straighten them out. How could you miss this? It’s not me, it’s Him! My whole work was to prepare you for Him, so why are you still chasing me?
Do you realize what a rare commodity that spirit is? Do you realize how perilously easy it is for any one of us to slip into the exact opposite spirit? For my own part, I have been considering of late, whether I ought to remove myself from these studies, as it were. (If I ought, then this paragraph itself is an act of rebellion.) My point is simply that it seems rather incorrect to have so many references to “I”, to “me”. For a spell, there, and even into this study, I have attempted to avoid such references as completely as could be maintained. But, one simply falls back to “we” or, as here, to “one”. The fact is that these words simply disguise the self-referential nature of the matter.
Over against this sense of impropriety, though, is set the sense that to remove oneself from the study of Scripture is to fail utterly of the purpose of such a study. It is to render the effort wholly academic, which is to draw its teeth, as it were. If we truly remove ourselves from the equation of study, then we are really taking evasive action, trying to make certain that the implications of what the Scriptures are saying don’t hit too close to home.
It is a matter of rhetorical training that a good preacher, we are given to understand, tends towards the more inclusive ‘we’ and ‘us’ in place of the accusatory ‘you’. That is well and good. However, it is equally possible to use those terms to avoid the confessional ‘I’. The sin somehow doesn’t loom so large if it belongs to all of us as it does when it is strictly personal. That can be both beneficial, in making clear to us that we are not somehow more heinously sinful beyond all hope of redemption than anybody else. On the other hand, it can become sinful in itself when our fallen minds make of it an excuse to let things ride. If everybody’s doing it, we’re still convinced that somehow that makes it alright in spite of God’s word to the contrary.
The sum of this is that I dare not remove myself from the implications of Scripture. At the same time, I recognize a need to avoid leaning to heavily on what I think or suppose, and remain more firmly planted in what is clearly declared. That must mean more for me than simply avoiding the phrases (and yes, that becomes a conscious thing). It’s not enough to change the text to avoid implications that I might be anything less than certain. Much of what I write really is, as perhaps it must be, no more than opinion. It is certainly no more than my best understanding, and that understanding is only too clearly subject to change.
Sometimes, I feel more set in my views than I was not so many years ago. But, then, I could recall that I was just as steadfast in the views I held prior to that time until Scripture forced me to reassess. I dare not, with that history, suppose that now I have arrived at perfect understanding. Who would I be kidding but myself? I dare not set myself out as some unquestionable expert on all things righteous. And yet, I know I have done just that on many an occasion. There is something in a man that just does not like to say, “I don’t know,” except it be a defensive measure ala those priests answering the question about John’s authority. But, that is nothing more than pride rising. That is “I must increase.” That is a clear deviation from the way of righteousness, and as such, is a matter in clear need of repentance however often it may raise its ugly visage.
So, I offer myself these lessons in righteousness from John’s example, that example Jesus Himself points to: Confront sin, demand no more than righteousness demands, and seek always the promotion of kingdom over self. I cannot say with any honesty that I would hold I have clewed to any one of these aspects of the Way. There are things said in Scripture that I could not read aloud as being my own present state without fear of being struck down as a liar there on the spot. Consider, for example, the confession found in Proverbs 8:20. “I walk in the way of righteousness, in the paths of justice.” Would you dare to pray such a passage to God? Do you recognize that to pray thus is to offer that statement as sworn testimony before the One able to discern the truth of your words without fail? Me, I would not dare to speak such a claim except I were able to slip an “occasionally” or a “sometimes” in there.
With that in mind, I turn to what Peter says of this way. “Better for them had they not known the way of righteousness, rather than turning away from that way having known it” (2Pe 2:21). Well, if I cannot concur with the claims of Proverbs 8:20 does that lay me open to the risks Peter is hinting at? I pray it is not so! I believe there is a great distinction to be made between deviations from that way and turning away from it. The one admits of error and the possibility of corrective action. The other suggests a certain finality to the decision. The one might suggest nothing more than that I wasn’t paying close enough attention and wandered like the sheep that I am. The other would seem to indicate that I knew full well which way I ought to go and deliberately chose to go fast and furious in the exact opposite direction.
One thing that is clear about this Way in which we are led is that it is a way in which it is the character that matters and not appearances. I have tended to conflate character with motive. I am not so sure, in this moment, that this is entirely appropriate. They are related, certainly, connected. But, they are not quite the same thing. We can chase after sound character and yet do so for the wrong motives. One suspects that where this is the case, motive will find itself changing as the character changes. Yet, even as God works His character development upon us, even as we endure this shifting of our motivation from such worldly motives as we bring with us to the pure motivation of love for God and Man which is to be our trademark, there is that in us which wants to look better than we suppose we are. There is that in us which wants to resemble the finished product even though we know ourselves far nearer the raw material.
I dare say that nobody goes to church of a Sunday with a willingness to stand before the congregation with every sin and fault exposed. For the most part, I think we find ourselves unwilling that any sin or fault should be exposed. On Sundays we’re perfect, don’t really need God’s help for that hour or two. Yet, those appearances that we try to hold in place for those few hours fool nobody, do they? Not anybody that matters. In that category, you can only place two: yourself and God. God is assuredly not fooled by our act, and for most of us, neither are we. If we are, then we would be counted as having a certain psychological disorder. The only ones we might possibly be fooling are those whom God has set around us to be a help in our neediness. Isn’t that something? For the sake of pride, we are forever cutting ourselves off from the clearest and nearest means of grace. All I can say in light of that is, “stupid me!” All I can do is to pray yet again for an end to this corrupting pride of mine. If my character is not in accord with my appearances, then I have more than sufficient evidence as to what opinion my Jesus holds me in, and how well He will tolerate such things. Every hidden thing shall be exposed. But, it shall be exposed in perfect Love, for the sole purpose of empowering repentance and such discipline as will in time remove that defect.
This is my confidence, my hope: This One Who is the Way, He is also that One Who sees the end from the beginning. To the mystery of how it can possibly be that a perfectly holy God is able to abide within the likes of me, this is the answer – at least in part. He doesn’t look at my present, and He’s long since done with my past. He’s looking at my final status. He’s not unaware of who I am in this particular moment, or who I shall be in coming hours. It’s that He is focused on the end result, a result which He holds in His own hands, which He has already purposed shall be and is therefore entirely confident shall be. He doesn’t hope for my future, He holds it. He knows it with a certainty that He seeks to impart to my own consciousness, lest I lose all hope.
God is no more surprised by my halting progress than He was by Paul’s kicking against the goads before he was finally brought aboard God’s plan. He is the Good Shepherd after all. He’s particularly well versed in the ways of sheep. Do I hesitate in my steps as I follow Him? Do I balk at what He requires? Do I go off into the weeds with sad regularity? Assuredly, I must answer yes to all these things. But, I do not somehow slip from His sight in those moments. He does not lose track of me, nor is He taken aback such that He must revise His plans and His schedule to deal with me. Not in the least. That was all accounted for before ever I began to be. No! My Good Shepherd, my Perfect Advocate, my Constant Counselor abides with me, within me, and through His ministrations I am growing. I am growing day by day, although I often fail to note the growth. Even so, I know it comes because I know He remains, and knowing there is growth, I know I am more able to walk that Way of righteousness with each passing day.
I have no cause for pride in that, for I can plainly see that it is His doing and not my own. That same grace which found me, which rescued me, is still hard at work in my life; shaping this clay, sanding down the sharp bits and filling in the pits that mar my image. I have every confidence that He shall assuredly finish the work to His perfect standards. That does not keep me from wishing at times that the rate of His work were either faster or slower (as the mood takes me), but through it all, however many mars and fissures I may be seeing in who I am, I hold this confidence: He is faithful to complete this work He has begun. He has said it. He has said, “It is finished!” And, His Word never fails of accomplishing His purposes.
