New Thoughts (07/22/10-07/27/10)
I start out this study with an observation that I had while pursuing the previous section. Martha and Mary arrive separately before Jesus, and each of them speaks the exact same words to Him, at least as John recalls it. Yet, there is this perception of a vast difference in the two events. Is it that we read into Martha’s and Mary’s actions what we know of them from elsewhere? I’m sure that does color my perception of them, yes. There are, however, other queues in the narrative that would lead to this same sense of difference. It might be that I would not see it in depth, but it would be clear that these two come to Jesus from a different emotional direction.
Martha, when she comes, is respectful yet firm. She stands before Jesus, looking Him in the eye as she speaks. She parries His attempts at consolation at first. She is somewhat defensive. My faith is not in question, Lord, but really, You should have been here sooner and we both know it. She is the elder sister. If we did not have those other accounts to make this clear, it would be sufficiently evident here. She is the one the visitors naturally go to with news. That Teacher, Martha – He’s out on the edge of town. Nobody gives a thought to telling Mary this, only Martha. Martha is the one to know what needs to be done. Martha’s got it under control.
Mary, as she arrives there before Jesus, immediately falls at His feet. Under the circumstances, it is at least as likely that this is the weight of her grief bringing her down as it is that she is worshipping Jesus. The same term would be used in either case, but inasmuch as she immediately resumes her mournful anguish, I’d lean towards the more mundane sense of the word. Either way, her actions convey to us that her words are not spoken as an accusation, but as a regret.
What I am establishing is that the words may be the same, but the attitudes are completely different. In this, I find that Martha and Mary, commonly thought of as the model of the busy Christian versus the nearly monastic devotee, actually demonstrate a different dichotomy here. In them I see demonstrated the one led almost exclusively by mind and reason on the one hand, and the one led in that same degree by heart and emotions on the other. Martha is practical. She is able, by and large, to suppress whatever she may be experiencing in her feelings in order to deal with the necessities of life. Jesus is come and, her sensible mind says that she ought have a private word with Him before He gets here – any unpleasantness that her reasoned response to delay might require her to express ought to be done in private. Then, there will be preparations to make, for He surely isn’t traveling alone.
Mary, whom Martha delayed in telling of Jesus’ arrival and whom the guests saw no cause to inform of the news, either, is instant in her reaction to His being there. Her broken heart is, as ever, near to the surface in her, and her love for this Teacher is likewise clear. Not one moment of reflection is needed for her. Jesus is here, and she’s gone to meet Him. There is a certain something in this that is most admirable. From one angle of observation, she is but responding to the need we all ought to feel, and ought to feel every time the situation ensues. Jesus is here, and there is that in us which knows how desperate is our need for Him and must rush to be nearer. But, there is another sense in which she acts from a zeal unburnished by sensibility. There is not really any thought involved in her rush to Jesus’ side. It is pure emotion.
In the extremes of these two attitudes, I see that both ladies represent an imbalance that must be addressed. Jesus, when asked as to which commandment stands as chief over the rest, responds with, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind” (Mt 22:37). Now, this is interesting, in that the Scripture He is quoting does not reference your mind, but rather your might (Dt 6:5). Was He making a mistake? No. But, unlike so many of His enemies, Jesus was more concerned with the meaning of Scripture than with memorizing the specific wording. In other words, we could argue quite reasonably that Jesus is effectively equating mind and might. He is speaking consistent with that which Moses imparted of God’s instructions, but He is speaking it in such a way as should impart the same message to a somewhat different culture.
What I want to focus on, however, is the and. Heart and soul and mind. We are not instructed to love God from one or the other of these aspects as the mood takes us. No, it is to be the combined force of all three. The one who loves God with all his mind yet has no heart becomes a dry and dusty theological theoretician. He knows so much but has never once applied it. He can quote chapter and verse, offer resounding expositions on any text you choose, but it has not shaped his character. The deeper implications have not touched his soul. He becomes like we find Martha here: She understands the resurrection but only as some distant, final episode that really doesn’t have any impact on her immediate life and situation. It’s nice, and all, but it doesn’t really do anything for me.
Likewise, those who are all about the emotional thing, but give no particular regard to accuracy and truth are, as Paul describes his countrymen: full of a praiseworthy zeal but a zeal not founded on knowledge (Ro 10:2). They’re ready to chase after anything that smacks of spirituality, but will not take the time to determine whether it’s real or not. These are the revival chasers, the ones that want to taste of every new move of God, and why, they’ll just leave it to Him to sort out whether it’s good or bad. They like to think it’s trust, but it really isn’t. It’s just unregulated zeal.
What we are shown in Jesus is life in balance. In Him, it is heart and soul and mind. Jesus loved this family, therefore He waited (Jn 11:6). Yet, He is not emotionless. Here we have Him weeping. I shall not as yet lay cause to that weeping, for it is something to be reserved for my next point, I think. But, the fact remains. He is not unmoved. He is not some icy, remote guru, untouched by the human experience as His mind wanders the spiritual realms. No, He is just as visceral as any man. His emotions are exceedingly real, but they are also kept in balance with reason and with faith.
He knows God. That is, I suppose a rather amusing thing to observe about one who is God, but in His humanity, we need to understand that the sense of it holds. He more than knows, though: He lays hold of the implications. He has faith in that knowledge. He has not just known the facts, but He has firmly established within Himself what those facts must mean for Him. God is faithful, trustworthy and good. That has implications for my life. God hates sin. That has implications for my life. So, we have knowledge of the mind joined to faith of the soul. But, these are further joined with the emotions of the heart. The three joined provide a triune foundation for Him. Isn’t that interesting? The triangle – the most stable of structures, as any student of geometry knows – sets the foundation for life. Life, after all, is found in a Triune God. OK. Maybe that’s a bit too mystical, but there is something in it.
At any rate, here we have Mary arrived before this Man, the Son of God. Her words are few, but her actions speak volumes. In her, it is deep, sorrowful grief that is speaking, and the sense of it is thus: It could have been so different, Lord! Had You been here, this would never have happened. It may well be that John specifically intended this, but I cannot help but think forward to how Jesus would be praying in the garden of Gethsemane not so many days from this one we are observing. He, too, would come before His Lord with a very similar cry of the heart. It needn’t be this way, Father, must it? Can We not arrive at a different plan? But, nevertheless, Thy will, not Mine.
More than this, I see that very same sense of things in what we see in Jesus right here, as He stands before Mary’s sorrow. Jesus wept (v35). Yes, but why did He weep? Is it simply that seeing Mary so troubled, His heart is thus broken? Have no doubt about that. Jesus does indeed sorrow for the sorrow of His own. Indeed, His sorrow goes beyond His own to encompass all who dwell in His creation. But, this is a small part of the picture. Jesus, even as He is before Mary’s tears, knows the story is not over. He knows what He is about to do. Why, then, should He weep? Her sorrow will momentarily be swept away in joy. The loss that she and her sister have felt will be done away with.
Does His sorrow, then, reflect some regret for the last few days? Is He thinking, “Gee, maybe I shouldn’t have waited after all”? Again, there may well be a bit of this in His tears, but let me cast it in a slightly different light. He knows, as He knew from the moment He got news of Lazarus, that events must develop as they did, because He knew not only the news, but the meaning and the reason. He is privy to the plan. This is not about death having a little victory. This is about God being glorified, about Life having the Victory.
When Jesus weeps, we must remember that this is the same Jesus who taught His disciples to seek the kingdom first and foremost. When He delayed for two days, fully aware that Lazarus was not only sick, but dead and buried, He was living as He taught – putting the kingdom first. Yes, His love for those He is now encountering was also involved, but then, the kingdom plan had that love and their best interests in sight already. Jesus knew that. He still knows that as He stands here encountering the grief of these two sisters. And, He weeps, but He weeps from a kingdom perspective. Again, Lazarus is not lost to these two, and Jesus knows this. That’s what He came to accomplish here, after all, is the resurrection of Lazarus. This was not some spur of the moment decision He made because He was so upset by the sorrow of the ladies. No! It was because of that plan that He had waited in the first place.
I want you to look at those things Jesus is experiencing before the tears flow. Jesus, seeing the depth of Mary’s sorrow, was ‘deeply moved’. OK. That’s a bit of a euphemism, because there are just certain emotions we don’t think God should feel. But, really, the sense of it is that He became angry. For my own part, in paraphrasing that, I have felt a certain need to soften the impact a bit as well. So, I have written that He became angry in His spirit. Yet, that anger must have shown, else how would John have known to record it for us. Listen. Cover your eyes if you must, but in plain language, Jesus was pissed.
Further, we are told, He was ‘troubled’. Well, now, what are we supposed to make of that? He didn’t know how to respond? It bothered Him to see the misunderstanding? What? Let me present some of the lexical entries provided for that word ‘troubled’. It speaks of being anxious, distressed. It speaks of having doubts as to the right of a matter. If I wished to press the issue, I don’t think I should be going too far were I to suggest that Jesus, in this moment, is in some degree questioning the whole course of Creation’s plan. Does that sound terrible? Again, I would point to that prayer in Gethsemene. Jesus, being fully human, would dearly love to see a different way of getting the job done. He remains wholly submitted and committed to the plan and purpose of God, but really, isn’t there some other means We could have used?
Indeed, we might not be wrong to suppose that Jesus is thinking about His own coming ordeal as He weeps. What He is witnessing, after all, is the ongoing cost of sin’s entry into the world. Now, here is a matter that came to light for me as I was discussing some other points with a dear brother of mine. For all that I have long held to the sovereignty of my God, have become more and more clear that He is in control, there is this one point where my eyes had, I suppose, refused to see that Truth. When it comes to the garden, that place in the midst of a Creation that God had declared good as He constructed it, how do I explain the arrival of the serpent?
If God is never taken by surprise, since it is He who orchestrates the universe, then I must necessarily include the serpent under the heading of those things He orchestrates. If even the devil, as we see in Job’s account, can only range about within the parameters enforced by God, that necessarily includes even Satan’s fall, and certainly the Fall of Adam and Eve. Listen! This is (at least for me) a stunning bit of news. The Fall, for all its terrible consequences over the millennia, is part of the Plan of God. The God Who is never caught out was not caught out by this. The God Who orchestrates the universe, Who had purposed your existence and your own purpose in His kingdom before that creation was even begun: He had this whole Fall, sin and its consequences, and the glorious introduction of Himself in His Son as Redeemer in mind before He ever started the project. In other words, if I may again shock my own system as well as yours: The Fall, being incipient in the very design of Creation, was part of what God had declared good from the outset. It is not that He was declaring sin good in itself, nor the corruption that it would necessitate imposing upon Creation. However, because of the endpoint to which the Fall and its effects would drive mankind, it was indeed Good.
Yet, Jesus is now come as a man, to live amidst those effects in a fashion that God in heaven could not. This, too, was part of the plan from the outset. Understand that the God Who is all-Mighty, all-Wise and all-Knowing, Who sees the end from the beginning (indeed, from before the beginning), has never had to adjust or modify His plans to account for the events that transpire in heaven or on the earth. These are all in His hands anyway, and all proceeds as He has determined. Get that through your head, because it is the seed of peace and confidence in Christ!
But, Jesus is there in the midst of it, having shorn Himself – by His own choice and in perfect accordance with the Plan – of all His prerogatives of Godhead. He has come to be Human in order, as the Scriptures tell us, that He might more perfectly satisfy His office as our eternal High Priest. Because of this part of the plan, He knows personally what it is we go through down here, so He knows best how to minister to our failures and sorrows. But, just now, in this moment before Mary’s tears, that whole Plan is feeling a bit questionable to Him. I must once again insist that we bear in mind that He has indeed set aside His Godly nature of knowing all at all times. He is seeing the devastating effects of sin and death in a very personal, very visceral way, and He cannot help but wonder, as He does in Gethsemene, if the whole Plan couldn’t have been accomplished in some better way.
Couldn’t We have skipped Satan, Father? Couldn’t we have left Adam and Eve untempted, there in the Garden? Couldn’t this whole deal of Creation been left free of sin from the outset, and this need to come as Redeemer of all mankind skipped? Jesus was troubled. He was afflicted by doubts. The upshot, as we know, was that He was, if anything, more fully resolved to complete the Mission for which He had come. After all, having now seen the effects to such painful degree, and knowing Himself, how would He not become that much more determined to pursue the one Plan that was assured of eliminating once for all time these pains and sorrows that were afflicting not only those He loved, but Himself!
So, yes. Jesus was angry. He was having His doubts. But, He remains Son of God as well as Son of Man. The Holy Spirit, though not yet imparted to man in that fashion that He would be later, has no such restrictions in dealing with this Man. God, though He has set aside His prerogatives to become Man in this case, is not therefore not-God. He is still One. So, Father through Spirit is yet ministering to Son. That anger and confusion is tempered by Knowledge of the kingdom and its righteousness. Yes, though there is pain and sorrow, the Plan remains Good. Yes, this is the best way, the Only Way. And so, the anger He feels becomes steel for the battle ahead.
The tears, you see, are for the impact of sin. He knows it’s temporary. He knows there is redemption. And yet, He regrets the suffering that He knows must be part of this process. God is not emotionless! He is not remote and unknowable, so very much Spirit that He simply cannot relate to our little problems. No! But, God is not emotion-led. This, as I have been saying here, is where He seeks for His children to be: not emotionless, but not emotion-led. Zeal, yes: but with knowledge.
If we are inclined to ask God to break our hearts with the things that break His, be aware that this is what we’re talking about: Brought to tears by the effects of sin, even while keenly aware that in this as in all things, God is working out His perfect plan. This is not to say that God is pleased to see His creation afflicted by the ravages of sin, any more than we can suppose that God, Who hates sin absolutely, is pleased to let us pursue our sins anyway. No. But, God is aware of the bigger picture, the grander plan. He knows the end towards which this beginning is leading, and that end is very good indeed. Does God then support the idea that the end justifies the means? No, I do not believe so. At most, we might say that He realizes that the end necessitates the means. There simply is no other way, else He would have chosen that other way.
So, we are left with a world that, for the time being, is subject to sin and to sin’s fallout. We are all intimately acquainted with some who have suffered most keenly by that fallout. This is not to say that every sickness is the direct consequence of some sin. Even today, there are entire ministries being built on that concept, that every physical malady and every mental imbalance can be traced back to some sin harbored in the sick one’s life. Yet, Jesus clearly broke that connection. Is it possible, likely even? Certainly. Yet, to raise it to necessity and make it the rule is to take the issue too far.
Of course there is the clear lesson of Scripture, that through sin, death entered the world and came to every living thing. Through sin, corruption. So, yes, in this sense one could trace every illness and every wrong back to a root of sin. But, that root may be very far removed from the case in hand. This may shock somebody, but I need to point out that even that body in which Jesus walked the earth was subject to this same corruption however perfectly sinless His life. Had He not faced the Cross as His terminus, that body would yet have found an end to its days. The body, that body we have n this earthly existence, is corruptible. It is subject to decay. It is destined to crumble. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. It is as insufficient for eternity as is our soul prior to rebirth. Thus it is that we are promised a new body, one befitting the eternal soul within, one upon which sickness and disease have no hold. But that is something to await, not something we hold today.
Today, we face the sorrows of loved ones ravaged in body. Today, we face those who are dear to us and who are suffering from chronic illnesses. Today, we face those whose chronic illnesses have led them into a form of faith that results in equally chronic disappointment. Why? Because man, in his finite knowledge (and in some cases, in his infinite dishonesty) has sought to convince such as these that God wants them well. God is determined to heal you, they insist. Jesus already paid the price for that! And, is it shocking that those who suffer so should respond to such a message? But, what if that healing that Jesus bought is quite like the righteousness He has obtained for us – something that shall not be delivered in full this side of the veil? To prey upon those who are in such a state, and that’s what this really amounts to, is to increase their suffering. It is to add mental anguish to physical. It is to add spiritual peril to temporal. It is to invite them into unbelief when the miracle such as these insist must occur does not do so. What is the problem? Oh, your lack of faith! It’s your fault. But, if I know my faith is strong, then I must suppose that it is a lack of God, that it’s His fault. It fails to occur to us that maybe we have simply misunderstood what He was saying in the first place. Seek first the kingdom!
Seek first the kingdom, and these things that you need will be added. But, how well do you know your need? Is healing a need? Not often. Many have crossed the full arc of life with sufferings as bad or worse than yours and made their exit with unshaken confidence in God. Why? Well, because they hadn’t set conditions on their faith. They trusted Him. They trusted Him, and they never insisted on adding clauses to that specifying what they were trusting Him for.
All of this is not to suggest that we ought not to so much as pray for healing. Why should we not? If it please God to heal, by all means, let us petition Him. Yet, if it please God to leave the status quo, let us not be inclined to rail against Him. Let our hearts truly be broken over those things that break His heart. But, those things, what are they? Chief among them is that suffering which is found to be a necessary part of the Purpose of God. Jesus wept. Why? Because He was seeing first hand just how painful the impact of sin was. I dare say He was also considering that even more immediate experience of sin’s fallout that lay ahead for Him.
So, there’s a question here that I seem to be rather skating around, which I must not seek to evade any longer. If God is brought to tears by the effect sin has on His creation, on His friends, how can I be unmoved by it? God does not call me to be the stoic, reserved warrior who is so strong that no tear has ever been seen on my cheek. God does not call me to icy reserve. He does not require me to stand silent in the face of these things. There’s a time and a place for that, to be sure. When Aaron’s sons faced the penalty due their perversion of the priestly office, Aaron was commanded not to weep. When the people gathered in Jerusalem for the high holy days, they were commanded not to weep. But, at other times no such injunction is made.
Indeed, the standing order for the believer is to mourn with those who mourn even as we rejoice with those who rejoice. To walk in this fallen world requires that commiseration. We are needful of that moral support which comes from hearing that others are feeling what we feel. So, if my beloved spouse is pouring out her heart to me, and I just sit silently, I am doing her a great disservice whatever motivation I may assign the deed. Even if my conscious motives are good, seeking to restrain the fleshly response that might rise up, yet I fail of actually doing good. Where is the heart-wrenching sorrow at the things I know she faces day to day? How can it be that I suppose this doesn’t touch me? How dare I seek to wall myself off from it?
Father God, it seems to me as I consider this failing in me, that there is a balance point to be had somewhere in this. Teach me, Lord, how to mourn with the mourning without being reduced to an unhelpful emotional ball. Show me, Holy One, how to feel the pain in strength, how to be a support to those who are so afflicted with the fallen nature of creation. Teach me, my God, how to feel without being pushed about by feelings. Teach me how to respond as You would have me respond. God, I know I am indeed moved by these things, but I know, too, that I am not moved as I ought to be. The balance is not yet in me on this matter, so I ask again that You would bring this into balance. It’s all I can do.
If you have any doubts that Jesus had His doubts, just look at the several occasions that are laid out through the next few chapters of John’s account. We see it here, that Jesus was deeply troubled, set in a moral quandary, by the impact of this mournful scene. We see it again as He comes to the tomb (Jn 11:38). Again, we are left to wonder whether He is reacting to the death represented by that tomb, the certain knowledge that He would shortly lie in His own tomb, or simply to the questioning nature of the crowd. Some friend, they say. Happy enough to help strangers, but left this one to die. What’s up with that?
Later we find Him in the garden, that poignant scene as He approaches the inevitable conclusion of His earthly purpose. “My soul is troubled” (Jn 12:27). How very much He would have rejoiced to hear His Father say that there’d been a change. The cross would not be necessary after all. He’d found another way, and this suffering would no longer need to come. But, of course, this was not to be. The Father is not a man that His plans should require changing. They had been laid out in perfection from before the beginning. If any man understood this, it was Jesus. Thus, though His soul be in anguish at the very consideration of what lay ahead, still Jesus resolved to meet His purpose. “Shall I ask You to keep Me from this hour, Father? How could I? It is for this hour that I came! Everything else is made nothing if I do not follow through now. Your will be done!”
Then, there is that final meal together with His closest disciples. And bear in mind that these truly are His closest disciples, even that Judas who was purposed to betray Him. This, too, Jesus knew beforehand. Scripture, after all, had been speaking of this moment way back in David’s day. “One of you here with Me will betray Me” (Jn 13:21). Again, Jesus knew the plan as no other, but knowing God had it all mapped out did not prevent Him being ‘troubled in spirit’. The prerogatives of the Godhead set aside, Jesus faced the plan of God in ways not too far removed from our own perspective. OK, God, I trust You, but I sure wish I knew what You were up to. OK, I know what You are seeking to do here, but are You sure this is the best way? It is in our nature to wonder, for by the working of the Godhead, we have been granted an awareness of God’s righteousness. We have a sense of heaven, a sense of right and wrong, however underdeveloped at this stage. So, we are measuring events, measuring actions, and even measuring God’s directions. Sinful? Only when we insist that our way is better and refuse His command.
[07/26/10] While this is hardly the place to go into detail, I am struck this morning by the preparation of my God. For, the events of yesterday were very much of that, “Why, God? Isn’t there another way?” variety. Frustrating on a personal level, devastating on a corporate level, yet God remains at the helm and He surely pursues His purposes undeterred and undistracted by the foibles of weak and fallible men. But, this whole period of studying the lead up to Lazarus’ resurrection is a study in handling a “This is the plan?” situation. The plan required waiting until sickness became death. The plan required allowing this pain and sorrow to afflict two sisters. But, the plan was never for evil, always for good. Likewise, I have been seeing more recently, the whole plan of Creation. That plan required the Fall. That plan required the death of the Son as well as the Life. That plan required the agony of the Cross as well as the ecstasy of the Ascension.
I wonder if we shall ever come to realize the depth of God’s own sorrow that the interim things are necessary. The Fall, after all, is an interim thing. There was glorious and intimate perfection before and there shall be glorious and intimate perfection at the end. But, the middle is an agony not just for mankind, but an agony for mankind’s Creator God. It is of His Purpose and under His Direction, true, but it can hardly be His Pleasure. His Pleasure lies in the end toward which His Purpose is directed. His Pleasure is in knowing the certain – because it is accomplished by His own Power – salvation of those He has chosen. His Pleasure is in seeing the outworking of His perfect plan by which Justice, Mercy, Righteousness and Wrath are able simultaneously to be upheld. Yet, the things that this plan requires His children to suffer? No, these bring no pleasure to Him, but only a sorrow He shares with us as we persevere.
But, His sorrow is bearable for one reason, even as it is bearable for us for that same reason: He has already permanently established victory over every devastation that sin has ever inflicted. I am borrowing that phrasing from myself verbatim, having written it precisely thus in my preparatory notes. I cannot think to improve it. He has already done it. This was true even before the Cross. It was true on the moment before the beginning. For, His Word went forth, and having gone forth, the accomplishment was already a certainty. He has already permanently established it. There is nothing in heaven, on earth, or even in me that can shift the outcome of what God has determined to see done. He has established it. It is written. It is cast in concrete, engraved in stone with letters that no passing of epochs could ever erode. He has established victory! He wins. Because He wins, I win. Finally, He has done all of this over every devastation that sin has ever inflicted.
Nothing is excluded from that. Every devastation: every trace of disease, every penchant for doing the wrong thing, every consequence of every foolish failure of man. I must stress, however, that there is nothing in this statement that requires or even supposes that these perfections are something for this lifetime. Would that they were, but it is clearly not the case. Every disease? If that were in the plan and purpose of God, then disease would long since have been eradicated by the prayers of the saints. Every evil propensity in me? Hardly. Yet, there is such wisdom in this, for the moment I find myself able to excise that last evil propensity in myself, I think myself free of my need for a Savior, which is truly unthinkable. Every consequence of sin? Too many have been taught that entry into the new life of the redeemed means that all responsibility for the sins of our former life is done away with, and this has done more harm to faith than perhaps any other lie! Were this even near to being the truth, then surely we would have to accept that we retain responsibility for every sin that comes after our redemption, in which case our redemption has become a worthless thing, and death becomes our only certainty.
But, those who would abuse their salvation as being an excuse to shirk the responsibility to make right their own wrongs in so far as it is possible? These, I would dare to say have never so much as tasted of salvation. Instead, they have been fed a counterfeit faith that has nothing of life in it. Woe, then, to those who have taught this error! They have been but one more pack of wolves intent upon destroying the sheep who trusted them. Yet, even in this, what I have said of God and of His Plan and Purpose remains.
I am drawn back, in this moment, to that most marvelous revealing of His Name, when He spoke to Moses on the mountain. What an amazingly complete description He provides. First, there is the lead up: “I will proclaim My name before you: I will be gracious to whom I will, and I will show compassion to whom I will” (Ex 33:19). Yet, this was not His Name. That came after the tablets were re-written. Then, the Lord passed by as He had promised, and spoke, as He had promised. “The Lord, the Lord God, compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness and truth; Who keeps lovingkindness for thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin. Yet, He will not leave the guilty unpunished, even visiting the iniquity of fathers on the children, the grandchildren, the third and fourth generations” (Ex 34:6-7). I feel a strong need to stress that He visits those iniquities, but nowhere does He say that He requires them to take up residence!
Why am I back at those verses? Because I need to be reminded constantly of Who it is I worship. I need to understand that the things that seem to fall apart around me are not disruptions of His plan but are, however little I may understand the reason, part of His plan. While the times seem evil, and indeed truly are evil, yet they are not only accounted for by His Purpose, they are a part of His purpose, incorporated into the Good that He is directing into being. I am at a loss, I confess, to explain to you how it is that God can thus orchestrate His creation that evil means do not tarnish His good name, though He has included them in His score. Yet, I know it to be truth. The evil that a man does he does of his own choosing, even as his own choosing is part of God’s purposes. God works all things for good, for those who are in accord with His purpose (Ro 8:28). It is shocking to consider, it is hard to fathom, but this necessarily includes my own sins. I shall quickly balance that by noting the need for repentance on my part never lessens. If we confess and turn away, then He is faithful to forgive. There is a requirement on our part. But, more shocking still is to realize that even the worst efforts of the devil and his minions, even the failure of a church that was once a bright light in His kingdom, even these things are covered by all things. Even these things are happening not by surprise, but in accord with His Good and Perfect plan. How can this be? I haven’t a clue. But, knowing God, I know it’s True.
All creation groans for the redemption of our body (Ro 8:22-23). You know, it’s funny how much our recollection tries to rewrite that section of text. Isn’t it the revealing? Isn’t it that creation waits for the revealing of the sons of God? No. It awaits our adoption as sons. But, that is a done deal. The papers have already been signed and registered. The seal is upon them and upon us. We have the letter with us at all times in the Holy Spirit. There is that second clause that remains, though: the redemption of our body. Our souls are already redeemed. We are the redeemed. Yet, I need look no further than my own body to know that what my soul knows very well my body has yet to comprehend. There remains that final, physical piece of the transformation. This keeps our eyes straining toward that final day that yet awaits, straining with the undying hope of our absolute certainty as to what awaits. For, He has told us beforehand that we might not be taken unawares.
Listen! It is finished! In some sense, perhaps unfathomable to those of us still stuck in the flow of time, all not only will be restored, it is restored and nothing but nothing can ever disturb that restoration. His own right arm has brought it to pass! That is another of those marvelous declarations of Scripture that must be taken in as the very bread of life! His own right arm has accomplished it. That is the deep and abiding Truth of our salvation. We were hopeless, beyond rescue, and so we remain. But, He did it. Those three words from the cross, “It Is Finished!” That is the conclusion of, “by My own right arm, I will do it.” What He has finished cannot fail. The story cannot be changed. Why, then, do we allow ourselves to be subjected to such turmoil in our spirits? If God be for us, what does it even matter who is against us? There is nothing, as absolutely nothing as absolutely all things are for our good, that can separate us from this love God has shed upon us. It is with an everlasting love that He has called. What lasts forever can hardly be broken, now, can it? No. It is finished!
And yet, knowing all of this, knowing all of this with greater certainty than I ever shall, Jesus wept. What does it take? I am only beginning to learn. Certainly, those personal losses and trials that come are like to move me, particularly when it becomes necessary to part from dear friends in the Lord. I am learning, as well, that what touches my wife touches me, beginning to grasp more fully what God means when He speaks of us being the apple of His eye. Then, too, to see His Church mired and bogged down with false doctrines and false accusations, I can say assuredly that these things move me to anger.
Why anger, though, and not tears? The anger, I am learning (or believe myself to be learning), comes of not recognizing the necessity of these things. It seems that in the last few weeks I have come to a new depth of understanding just how thoroughly inclusive the all things of Romans 8:28 truly is. Now, why that verse should be playing such a major role in this study of the Gospels, I cannot say, but I know this: God brings to mind those things He wants us attentive to. What he has wanted me attentive to through this period is that even these terrible events, even this turmoil that is the present, these things are working for good. It’s not just true on the scale of one life. It’s not just true on the scale of Church history. It’s true from the opening day of Creation to its close. It’s true longer even than that. God is in control.
What am I driving at? Anger at the situation comes about because we have failed to see the hand of a sovereign God in our situation. Anger comes from failing to recall that there is good being worked, that the Good and Perfect gift that is God’s Good and Perfect plan has not been forced onto some detour by the present occasion, but has this present occasion fully accounted for. In fact, this present occasion has been part of the plan from the outset. Does that change the evils of the present? No, not really. Not any more than knowing Lazarus would be back from the grave shortly changed the evils of sin’s impact on the world. Not any more than knowing the Resurrection awaited changed the evils of the Cross. But, anger comes of feeling that things could be different. Sorrow comes of recognizing the necessity of the pain which leads to repentance. Sorrow comes of seeing that the necessary plan which leads to the Perfect Good must pass through such a vale of tears.
We cannot, at least I apparently cannot, move from the anger to the sorrow until that is understood. Until I am clear that, whether I know what it is or not, there is a reason, then I am angry at the senseless brutality of life. But, when I know that my God, Who is the very definition of Good, has purposed these things for His Good Purpose, when I know that whatever the present may hold, it is a necessary component of bringing about an eternally blessed future day, then I can be satisfied by sorrow for what must be. Can it be that sorrow is what happens when anger faces hope?
Do I sorrow to see a man of God torn down? Absolutely. And I pray for his restoration. Do I sorrow to see God’s house seemingly weakened and in disarray? Without doubt. But, this one thing I know: It is in God’s purpose that these things are happening. There is a reason. I shall not credit the devil with any sort of accomplishment, for even he is leashed to the perfect will of God. He can do no more than is permitted him, and the massed strength of his every weapon and warrior shall not prevail. Something good shall come of this, however painful the process. Something Greater asserts His authority over all Creation, and all Creation shall worship Him. These temporary afflictions, these fluctuations in the fruitfulness and efficacy of His children and His house, change nothing of His plan and nothing of His accomplishment. There is a reason, and His own right arm shall assuredly see to it that His plan, His purpose, His reason is accomplished even in our sorrows.
