New Thoughts (03/15/12-03/19/12)
I find it somewhat curious that while I marked out this passage by the title, “the Spirit Will Come,” my comments would seem to have little to do with the fact. This is, perhaps, fitting, given that the Gospels are not primarily about the Holy Spirit, but rather with the unique work of the Son in His sojourn as Man. On the other hand, given the study we are doing in Sunday School, and its focus on hidden prejudices this week, I am at least a little curious as to whether I have developed a bit of a prejudice against the Holy Spirit in reaction to some of the things observed during my years in the Charismatic movement.
When we left our last church, part of how they explained our departure to those who remained was to claim that I had a problem with the gifts of the Spirit, or words to that effect: that I was against the charismata. I would not say that was the case. Yet, at the same time, I would have to admit that I often find the overt use of those gifts a bit suspect. I have to confess that I have been in the presence of some folks of the Charismatic persuasion who are palpably legitimate. Even if everyone else in the room is a fraud, there is something tangibly real about these ones. But, with an eye to the dangers of developing prejudices that ought not to be (which arguably covers all of them, but I wouldn’t want to proclaim that as solid Truth), it behooves me to think about my feelings towards the Spirit and His gifts now that I am in a more conservative church.
There is a bit of a knee-jerk reaction in me these days. I have no particular desire to see these practices brought into the church I’m in now. Why? Part of it is a protective matter. Where the gifts arrive, they tend to become the focus in a way they ought never to be. What do I mean? I mean the gifts come to have more importance in the eyes of the body than Jesus. This may manifest in any number of ways. The most obvious is a tendency for worship to devolve into entertainment. That is a problem that is not unique to the Charismatic movement. Every worship team runs the risk of putting on a show rather than playing to and for God. But, there are other aspects: the prominence given to displays of spiritual prowess; the sudden inspired visions from God, the messages in foreign tongues (if languages they be at all), the happy prophesying that passes for the real thing most of the time. And, if you can get visual pyrotechnics going along with all that, why, you’ll have a congregation in the thousands in no time!
Yes, that’s something I do not desire to see brought in. Yet, there was a time. There was a time when I thought the most marvelous thing would be to find a house in which Reformed concern for the Word and for sound theology were perfectly wed to the power of the Spirit as evidenced in these same gifts. Does that view still hold? Or have I become so ill disposed toward all such stuff as to simply assume it is fraudulent without bothering to test it? This, if it be the case, is improper of me.
It is interesting, as well, that last Tuesday I happened to be put in mind of that last men’s retreat at the old church, and the occasion of my being requested to talk to the group on the topic of the Anointing. And, yes, that is certainly something one would capitalize in the Charismatic arena. Of course you would. It’s right up there with Truth. Even at that point, I found the idea of handing me that topic a bit amusing, if simultaneously awe-inducing. It’s an important topic, and it’s important to maintain a true, Biblical perspective on it. Certainly, as I prepared, I was mindful of the reverential, worshipful awe in which that anointing is generally held in such company. Oh! The Anointing! I can feel it. It’s all over me! Ooh. You have an anointing on you. You should be pursuing that for which you were thus anointed. Oh, he’s an anointed preacher. She’s an anointed pianist. He’s an anointed greeter. You name it, and the one doing it was either anointed, or no good what so ever.
And, of course, we had our songs on the subject. “Anointing, Fall On Me” was the biggie in that department. Nice song. But, is it about God or me? This is the great risk, to my thinking, with all the modern experience of the gifts. It can rapidly become about me rather than God. Mind you, I could say the same of these studies, couldn’t I? It’s all about me. What I think. When, it really needs to be about God, and what He’s telling me.
So, as I say, there’s something of a checkup being called for here. The thing that really made that clear was this verse that comes up amongst the parallels for the passage. It’s John writing again, although in the form of an epistle rather than a gospel. “The anointing you received from Him abides in you. You need no other to teach you, for His anointing teaches you everything. It is True. There is no lie in it. And you abide in Him just as it has taught you” (1Jn 2:27). There is much that could be said about that particular verse. One could, for example, note how it has been abused by those who seek permission to abandon the church as a group practice. See? We don’t need no preachers or teachers. The Spirit teaches me everything, so I don’t need you. The problem with such an understanding should be self-evident. But, that is only one failure mechanism.
I need to focus more on the first half of that verse. The anointing you received from Him abides in you. What ought I to make of that? Given how Jesus has used this matter of abiding to describe His own relationship with us, as well as the Father’s relationship both with Him and with us, the term should be something of a trigger for how I view the anointing. Perhaps it really is fitting to speak of it with the honorific capitalization. After all, it is received from Him. It is, John writes, His anointing, and it is teaching us about all things. Well, no wonder this comes as a parallel to the present discourse! What does Jesus say about the Holy Spirit? “He will teach you all things.” That is, if you will, His anointing.
So, then, there’s something to take from this, which is that the Anointing of which John writes that He teaches us all things ought properly to be understood as one and the same as the Holy Spirit. That being said, I would aver that this is not the tingly, warm sensations of a power surge that we often associate with the anointing being upon us. For one thing, we are given to understand that this Anointing John speaks of abides in us. It’s not something that comes and goes, some fleeting experience. Under the Old Covenant, it seems that this was often the way of the Spirit, that He would alight upon an individual for a season, for the pursuit of some particular goal, and then He would be gone again. But, we are given to understand that under this New Covenant, because of the completed work of Christ, He is now here in us as a permanent feature, a constant companion. He is here. There is no fall on us, for He is in us.
What I arrive at is this: Knowing that there have been in my own experience, and even in my own case, legitimate displays of those things commonly called the gifts of the Spirit, I must assuredly disavow the automatically negative response I’ve had to such things of late. This is unhealthy, and veers dangerously close to dishonoring God. So:
Lord, I repent of this overreaction. Forgive Me of those occasions where I have dishonored You in these mindsets by which I claim to uphold Your honor. As if Your honor really needed my help to stand! Lord, there has been, I must confess, error in my thinking. I have indeed been turned off to the outworking of Your Spirit amongst those given more to outward display. I pray You would grant me wisdom. Grant me to accept once again that which is genuine. Grant me also the lovingkindness to gently correct that which is not genuine in those for whom You have given me some degree of charge. Let my response not be that of one with a festering wound, but one with a loving, reverential regard for all Your Truth. Where these things are truly Your Anointing, You, Holy Spirit, moving amongst Your students, let me rejoice to find You so moving! Where they are not, my King, be my backbone, that I might stand rather for Your Truth than for any abiding of that which ought not to be. I trust myself to Your grace, my God, and set myself at Your disposal. Correct and restore all that has been allowed this overreaction in me. Thank You.
I’ve been thinking about the flow of these several chapters this morning. One sees in them a sort of churning over various points. The same basic things are stated repeatedly, and then there are these interjections of what seem like unrelated statements into the flow. The effect of it all is to leave on feeling just a little disoriented as you try to sort through it all. I have tended to think of this as being more to do with John’s style than anything else. John always comes across as having a bit more of the mystical bent to his approach. But, it occurs to me that a more natural explanation might very well be that Jesus is feeling the immediacy of that crisis which is peculiar to Himself. Just as He has always known that His time was not yet, He knows very well that His time is now. The days have always been short, but now He’s down to hours, and He has so much He would still love to teach these men before their own moment of crisis. So, if He comes across as somewhat distracted, a bit like an absent minded professor, it strikes me that this only demonstrates His humanity all the more.
That said, it would not do to ignore those connections of thought that do tie the whole together. After all, even in this highly stressed condition, Jesus remains a consummate Teacher and a most intentional speaker. The things He is stringing together here, however unrelated they may seem at first glance, can be assumed to be a continuation of thought anyway. Thus, the comment at the start here, that He has been abiding with them ties back to what was said in John 14:18, “I will not abandon you.” In many of the translations I’ve looked at, verse 25 is actually construed as closing out the line of that that verse 18 begins. But, it should also be viewed as an introductory point as to what follows.
I won’t abandon you leads directly to that Advocate Jesus has promised to send in His absence. He had actually introduced this idea of the Advocate prior to saying, “I won’t abandon you”, (Jn 14:16). The two points are intertwined. Part of not abandoning them is the fact that this Other shall be sent to abide with them. Jesus has been abiding with them, but must go. This other Advocate has not been abiding with them, only visiting now and again. But, henceforth, He will abide. But, in the first introduction, Jesus has not made explicit Who this Advocate is. At most, assuming John 14:17 is to be retained, He has referred to Him as the Spirit of truth. But, such a statement could easily be construed as a bit of a rhetorical excess. Now, He assigns to the Advocate a name that will bring to mind a great body of Scripture in the minds of His disciples. This Advocate is, He says, the Holy Spirit sent by the Father. At the very least, they would be mindful, I should think, of Psalm 51:11. “Take not Thy Holy Spirit from me.” And, if it was true in David’s time that this ought be the cry of every believer’s heart, it is only more true today.
And, here the implicit promise is that He will not take His Holy Spirit from me. I will not abandon you. He Who will be with you forever (Jn 14:16), is the Holy Spirit sent of the Father, requested by the Son. As this lengthy lesson proceeds, we must surely see that if Father and Son are One, so is the Holy Spirit. These Three are One. If Father is in Son and Son in Father, then it ought to hold together that Son is in Spirit and Spirit is in Son and so each is in both of the other. And, as Jesus proceeds to the point of praying that same intensity of inclusion for us, we must come to the conclusion that where the Spirit abides, so too do Father and Son. We may not share the remarkable joy of having been with Jesus in the flesh and on the road, but we have His abiding presence with us just the same. Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is Jesus! Truly, we are never alone.
Keep all that in mind as we slide forward to verse 27. It seems like a jump of topic, doesn’t it? One moment, He’s talking about the Holy Spirit, the next He’s shifted to talking about peace. Is He really just listing off those things that He’s put in His will? There’s a sense in which that is involved, and I suspect that might be why He proceeds rather immediately to say that He doesn’t give like the world does. His will, while it requires His death like any other, is not a sign that He will never be seen again. That in itself is a complete breaking with the natural flow of life in this world. Life, when it ends, is ended, as the world normally operates. But, Jesus says, “I’ll be back.” And when He says He’ll be back, it’s not in the same way that Lazarus came back. Lazarus was back for a season, but would return to the grave eventually. Jesus, on the other hand, departed His grave once and for all time.
This all, then, ties back to that point of, “I won’t abandon you.” The Message actually makes this connection explicit. “I don't leave you the way you're used to being left — feeling abandoned, bereft.” Admittedly, one must read between the lines to find that in the text, but it’s there. And, as I say, it’s there because this is something of a last will and testament. I am going to the Father. There’s only one or two ways to get there, and as I noted in the previous study, both of those are essentially permanent relocations. Even assuming the sort of departure that Elijah experienced, there was that leaving of his blessing to his chosen successor. There was an inheritance to be dealt with. There is not firstborn of Jesus to lay claim to His household (also like Elijah). But, there are His spiritual children, these disciples. There is no firstborn in their number who can claim the inheritance to the exclusion of others. That’s been settled. What there is for them is a common inheritance, an inheritance large enough that every believer since has had essentially the very same gift from our Lord.
We can quibble about the activity of the spiritual gifts in our day, but there are things that allow of no quibbling. We have the Holy Spirit abiding, teaching, recalling to mind the things we need to remember. We have the rebirth. There can be no question of these things. If one is a Christian, they apply. It is not the provenance of some subset of denominations that happen to accept the idea. It is the very definition of the Christian. Then, there is this new point Jesus has added. “My peace I give to you. I leave it with you.” This, too, is the inheritance of every believer. It cannot be limited. It cannot be unavailable to certain of our number. And, it has everything to do with that earlier point of, “I won’t abandon you.”
There is much to be said about this. The first thing I want to say, though, is that it behooves us to consider the Jewish conception of peace when we hear this. This is more than saying, “I leave you in a state of prosperity and free of strife.” Indeed, we must understand that those particular aspects of the term eireeneen have no application whatsoever to this promise. Clearly not! “In this world you will have tribulation.” Well, then, it’s not peace as indicating absence of strife, is it? Prosperity? Maybe yes, maybe no. But, join those who have arrived at, “I am content, whatever my lot” (Php 4:11-12). That’s not what this particular promise of peace is about, then. God provides, and that is assuredly a greater comfort than any the world can offer, but it’s not really the point at present.
No, we need to go back to shalam [OT:7999]. And even then, there is that specific aspect of the term that must be held in view: To be completed. The way I used to hear this expressed was a restoring of everything to the way it was intended to be, a return to the original design. In that, there is the idea of having completely removed the effects of the Fall. It is that condition for which all creation groans (Ro 8:22). Notice: Jesus says, “My peace I leave with you.” One can see how Anselm came to the conception of the GodMan. Jesus, in His brief sojourn as man, had lived a life that was fully demonstrative of that fundamental sense of shalam. He was a Man as originally designed, Man without the effects of the Fall. He had walked in the perfection of obedience. And this Fall-free state, thus in perfect harmony with God, having nothing to fear from that quarter, is what He leaves. There is also, in that peace He leaves, the walking with God that was part of the original Garden experience. He abided with them there. He abides with us here and now. Lo, I am with you always.
I leave you complete. I leave you restored to specification, every dent and scratch removed, every bit of rust eliminated. I restore you to righteousness. I do so because I leave you My righteousness. I clothe you in My righteousness. Just as Elijah left his mantel to Elisha, the outward garb that marked the man of God, so Jesus has left His righteousness, an outward garb upon us, marking the child of God. We are complete. And, we are safe.
We are safe with particular regard for God, for He is the only One we rightly fear. Fear of man is foolishness, however much we fall prey to it. God is for us! What can man do? Yes, he can terminate this earthly existence earlier than we might like. But, he cannot terminate it even one second before God would have it end. And, as Paul says, “To die is gain” (Php 1:21). The worst man can do to us is send us home on schedule. What a terrible thing. God, on the other hand, has the power of eternity. His wrath is something to be concerned about, for where He justly punishes, that punishment has no end. It is there that the peace of Christ, the righteousness of Christ clothe us. In God’s sight, we are marked out as those for whom His Son has paid the price. He has dealt with our debt to our Creator on our behalf so that we are restored, in a very real sense, to that pre-Fall condition. And, we are maintained in that condition.
That is not, obviously, to suggest that we enjoy the complete realization of that condition in this life. No, we are left to train and exercise, to seek to improve our efforts to walk in that righteousness under our own power. But, we do so with the assurance that He Who sees the end from the beginning sees in us not our present struggle, but our perfect end. In that moment when we see Jesus face to face, we shall be made as He is. “My peace I leave with you.” Yes, but He’ll be back for it. He’ll be back for it, though, not to take it back from us, but to establish the permanent kingdom of Peace over which He rules even now.
Let me look at one other aspect of that peace this morning. We have it. “I leave it with you. I give it to you.” It’s not a thing that comes and goes. OK. I need to digress for a moment, to recall that the connection this topic has with the Spirit is not solely that these are matters of our inheritance. No, the connection is more intimate than that. The abiding presence of the Spirit, His indwelling of our very being, occupying us as His living temple, are in a sense the source of that peace. To be sure, there is the very strong connection of our peace to that righteousness Jesus imparts. But, that righteousness imparted is also the thing that fits us out to be a suitable temple for Perfect Holiness. Understand that. We are temples of the Living God. He dwells within. He cannot abide, cannot dwell, where sin abounds or even has a presence.
This is one of the most persistent mysteries of faith to me, that God Who cannot tolerate the least sin in His presence is yet able to live in me. How can that be? I can only surmise, this morning, that it ties to that same theme of God seeing the end from the beginning. He Who is outside of time dwells in me while I remain in that time which He created. But, from His perspective the ongoing process of sanctification that I feel so greatly (and with great cause for alarm at its slow progress) has already arrived at its perfect conclusion. The full benefit of the work of the Son has been realized. Where He is, I have already seen my Lord face to face, have already been made as He is. As much as this thought wrenches the mind, being so foreign to our present experience, it does explain a lot.
Lord, thank You! How long I have wondered at this, and yet it is so simple. The end from the beginning: It is a concept more powerful than simply announcing Your foreknowledge of events. It goes even beyond Your power ordaining events. It is my comfort, too! It is my comfort that You are not only behind all that happens, but also, as it were, ahead of all that happens. You are there at the terminus of time, where I perceive an entrance into eternity. But, from where You are, there was never an exit. There is eternity and eternity is all. While these thoughts verge on things to wonderful for me, I thank You again for this glimpse that brings a touch of understanding that’s been lacking for many years.
There is another aspect of this gift of peace that deserves to be dwelt upon. We have it. While I would not reject outright the idea of praying for His peace, it does reflect a certain misunderstanding as I see it. “My peace I leave with you.” It’s not going anywhere. It’s here. Admittedly, we don’t always feel like it’s here. I would suggest, however, that much of that is due to our misunderstanding what that peace is. As I have already noticed, it is more to do with the restoration to original spec that is transpiring in us than with the external circumstances of life while we are in the process. What we beg for so often is not the completion, but rather a cessation of the tribulations.
Perhaps, if this is understood, there is no wrong in such a request. It must surely be conditioned with, “Thy will be done,” and not just as a catch phrase that we stick on the end to show we’re good Christians. That needs to be a real mindset. It is a reflection of a particularly Calvinist viewpoint, but it holds. God is in control. God is in control, specifically, of this process of sanctification that I am enduring. What comes my way, whether peaceful or trying, is geared towards achieving the outcome of that process, which is undeniably good. If this is the case, what cause do I truly have to complain of circumstance? Why am I not of the same mindset as Paul, content whatever my situation? It is all but the outworking of this promise: “My peace I give to you.”
I will confess that I often pray for peace for my wife because of the health issues that she deals with daily. They are wearing on her. Yet, she stands because the grace of God is with her even when she feels particularly graceless. She stands because Jesus has left her peace even when she doesn’t find the situation at all peaceful. So, in reality, I suppose my prayers are either for surcease of these health issues. No, I don’t suppose. I know full well that this is at the top of my list. But, there is an undertone to the prayer, a desire that she might know that contentment of Paul’s, truly a peace that defies understanding. To be content in such circumstances, not complaining with bitter tears about how poorly God is treating you, not railing against whatever might have caused the condition; that is a testimony more powerful than any memorized testimony speech will ever be.
May I, then, internalize this Truth: I have God’s peace. It may not be the peaceful state I want, but it is the security of salvation, the assurance that I am indeed going to be restored to that which I was intended to be as a man. It is the security of knowing that however trying the events of the day, God’s hand is still there. God’s will is still done. Hear from Paul what it’s like to truly internalize this point. “Let the peace of Christ rule in you,” he writes (Col 3:15). I could start by asking what that even means. How does peace rule? I must maintain that it rules by dominating our perspective, by overshadowing all the frustration that circumstance might otherwise inflict. Now, continue with Paul’s thought. “All of you were called to this peace as one body.” In light of the command he has just given, it would be tempting to think of this as something we are instructed to do. But, that would be to misunderstand the nature of this peace of Christ. No, we were not instructed to be at peace. We were elected to inherit that peace.
There is room to be challenged on this point from a Scriptural perspective. I understand this. But, in light of how that peace is obtained and what it consists in, I feel comfortable in making this point. Our effort is involved more in allowing His peace to fully corral our wayward thought processes, allow His peace to shape our perception of events. Our effort has no role at all in obtaining or maintaining that peace. For it is His. He has established it and He has given it. To this peace we were elected, called even as we were called to be sons of God. That is the point Paul makes. As one body, you were elected to this peace. Nobody has advantage over another in that regard. Nobody has bragging rights for having attained to peace with God. All have one valid response. “Be thankful!” Thus, does Paul close out his point, and it really does put paid to the meaning.
The peace of Christ is no more a thing to boast of than is your salvation. It’s not as if it comes by your doing. It’s not as if your wonderful self did so marvelously as to all but require that God would count you as His own. Hardly that! No, to a man we come to Christ as most unworthy of the least of those gifts which He showers on His elect. We are just that: His elect. He called. He drew us. He pushed us when necessary. He constrained us to believe. You may not like the sound of that, but that’s OK. I would rather be constrained to Live than left free to die. In the end, my will has been no less free in the choosing for having been constrained. So, my soul, lay hold of this peace that is already yours. It has been given and it shall not be taken from you. If there is a restlessness of spirit in me, if there is a dis-ease, then the issue is not that Jesus has withdrawn His peace, but that I have permitted my own distraction from Truth.
There is something of a command that follows upon the imparting of the gift. Being as I have given you My peace as a confirmed inheritance, a certain reality, don’t let your heart be troubled. Don’t panic. Don’t go all timid on Me. I am with you! Why are you so fearful, then? Why the concern for how others might view you? I see you as the finished work you are, even though you don’t see it yet. I AM is for you, what does it matter who is against you? No, but you are enveloped by Me, surrounded in My presence. There is no better armor in all the world. Fear not, for I AM with you. That ought surely be enough to feel at peace, even as I know I have His peace.
Turning my attention to the final two verses of this chapter, I find that what Jesus has to say serves to undergird that peace He has proclaimed. It comes as an explanation for why the lessons are coming to an end. “I won’t be speaking with you much longer.” Time is short, and there’s a reason for that: The ruler of the world is coming. Let’s be clear. This one is not the legitimate ruler of the world, but a usurper. Yet, for the present time, he has been allowed to retain his position. It holds for him as it did for every Pharaoh, every Caesar, every Czar or President. Their times are in God’s hands. Whether they acknowledge it or even understand it, the Truth remains unchanged. They are on their throne by His authorization and remain there only so long as His authorization continues. That can be hard to accept with many of those who hold power today. It was no doubt just as hard to accept when it was Nero, Caligula, or others of that sort.
This point is pressed home with what Jesus says immediately following. “He has nothing in Me.” He has no say so. He cannot command Jesus. He cannot even alter the course of what Jesus does to complete His purpose. He cannot alter the course of history. The history of the world unfolds in perfect accord with the Father’s plan. It certainly doesn’t look that way from our perspective. Reading through those portions of Scripture that cover the history of Israel, it’s hard to imagine all that failure and treachery was actually planned by God. It’s harder still to consider that it was planned for good. Yet, there it is. The salvation of the Gentiles could not come about except by the plan He chose. The salvation of Israel, for that matter, was likewise dependent on His plan.
When Jesus says, “He has nothing on Me,” the implication is that the devil has no say over His actions. This includes, most specifically over His death and the means by which it comes about. What is about to happen, that which these men will be witnessing with such dismay, is not the devil winning. It is Jesus obeying. The particular phrasing of this passage can make it difficult to see the connection between these thoughts, at least in the more literal translations. But, the three major clauses of these last two verses are firmly connected. 1) He has nothing in Me, no say. 2) What I am about to do, (and let me stress, I do), is Me obeying My Father, completing the command He gave Me. 3) It is for a purpose: that the world may know that I love the Father and obey Him in all things.
Let me pause there. “That the world may know.” It is worth noting that Jesus does not use the more common oida to express this knowing the world will do. He uses gnoo, a form of ginosko. He is talking about the knowledge that comes of experience, as opposed to that knowledge we arrive at intuitively. It’s not that the world will be able to figure out that Jesus was obeying God because of what’s about to happen. It’s that they will have been part of the action, and will therefore know absolutely and without a doubt.
These two shades of meaning assigned to ginosko come from different sources, and have to this point struck me as rather divergent meanings. Zhodiates stresses the point of experiential knowledge versus the intuitive knowledge of oida. Strong provides the conception of knowing absolutely. One can hear the unshakable nature of that knowledge in Strong’s rendering. Here’s the thing, though: That which we know from experience is unshakable. It is absolute, in our thinking, or as nearly so as anything can be. True, we may be forced at some point to revise that body of knowledge that is based on personal experience, but it’s unlikely to happen unless some subsequent personal experience proves the need to think again. That which we arrive at by intuition, on the other hand, has still that contingent nature to itself. It’s subject to further investigation. It is, if you like, a theory as yet unproven by factual evidence.
This has implications for us as believers. The faith that we arrive at, that faith which we discover has arisen within, is not intuitive. Listen: I can’t speak for anybody else’s experience, but for my own part, that faith appeared quite in spite of my intuitive understanding of things. I wasn’t looking for faith. I had no reasoned position in favor of faith. Quite the opposite. I was pretty certain it was all hokum. I had about as much use for God as for a pimple. Yet, there came that point where faith was in me. And, it wasn’t a faith based on vague hopes for the future. It wasn’t because believing felt better than not believing. It wasn’t, much though this will irritate many, that I suddenly became aware of how filthy I was and how much I needed God. No, it was something far more profound (at least from where I sat). The evidence was in. By the experiences of those few critical days, God had shown Himself real. No, there were no physical manifestations of His holiness before my eyes. I saw no pillar of fire or cloud. But, I saw more than sufficient evidence to understand that events around me were being orchestrated, and not by any man. The opportunity for the connivance of man to arrange these things simply didn’t exist. Yet, the orchestration was so clearly there, that reason left no option but to believe. You are God, then! OK. Reason, thereafter left no reasonable response but to worship.
I knew. I knew absolutely because I knew from my own experience. And against that, there is no argument sufficient. The appeals to embarrassment, and the insistence that faith is contraindicative of intelligence just don’t play. The claims that science and religion don’t mix simply don’t work, because I know they do. Giant billboards claiming I know better than to believe aren’t going to shift me because frankly, I know better than not to believe. I know absolutely. I know by experience. And allow me to stress the point that it is not just some momentary experience I am talking about. I am discussing experience to which experience has been added and added again. And, through it all, the conclusions that were arrived at in those first few days have proven sound. The more the evidence, the more the evidence is consistent. The problem has never been with the evidence. The problem has been with presuppositions held by those who are determined to reject the evidence.
There is that old adage that if all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. Well, I suppose the spiritual equivalent is not far different. If all you have to fend off eternal damnation is the insistence that God doesn’t exist, then every bit of data that disproves the desired conclusion must be rejected out of hand. One could look at the ostensibly scientific research that has been done on the subject of global warming. We have seen just how the modern, godless scientist is willing to filter out whatever facts don’t suit the theory.
As one reads of some of the tactics used for military campaigns, how ambushes may be laid, or weaknesses disguised, there is a theme that arises to the point that people tend to see what they expect to see. It takes a careful eye to notice the details that don’t fit. In the case of the anti Christian sentiment, though, it actually goes much further than simply seeing what one expects to see. It degrades to refusing to see what is there before one’s eyes and removing the image entirely from consideration. If I allow myself to see the proof, then I shall be forced to accept the proof, and if I am forced to accept the proof, then I shall have to respond to it. I shall have to admit to a higher authority than self. Worse yet, I shall have to admit to my guilt before that higher authority. And, most unthinkable of all, I shall have to change my ways.
They will know absolutely, from their own experience, that Jesus loves the Father and obeys Him in all things. They shall know absolutely that He is the true ruler of all creation. They shall continue to play their games of denial, but they shall know. And when judgment comes, they shall know absolutely that He is just in all His judgments.
But, let me return to this conflict between the true King and the usurper. We know what Jesus is alluding to here. The disciples ought to know as well. He has said it often enough now. “I am going to be killed. They will turn me over to the Gentiles, and the Gentiles will see Me crucified. But, I will rise again. I have authority to lay down My life, and I have authority to pick it back up again. For a while, you won’t see Me, but then you will.” All of this has been going on for quite awhile now. John is particularly careful to make that clear to us. He has been warning them about this day for weeks on end. Now, the critical bit of understanding is made that much more explicit. Yes, I am going to die, but don’t you think the devil has won in that! He has no say in the matter. Dig! He has no say in what Judas is doing, nor, even in what Judas will do to himself when he realizes how he’s been played. The devil has no say in anything, for all he likes to promote himself as the boss. He is wholly constrained by the will of the Father, but unwillingly constrained. I, too, am wholly constrained by the will of My Father, but willingly so, constrained by love of Him.
The ESV makes this linkage of the points more explicit. “He has no claim on me, but I do as the Father has commanded me.” No claim, no say. Understand that, you apostles! It will look bad. It’s going to look like the most abject of defeats, but it’s not! No! It is I overcoming the world, and the world will play right into My hands to bring it to pass. The devil, that one who thinks he’s got the upper hand now, will do exactly as I please, exactly as Father has purposes since before the beginning, since before that one fell from heaven.
Now, if I may return to that subject of the peace of Christ, given to us: It seems to me that there is a very firm connection established between what Jesus has just said of His death and that assurance of peace which is ours. If the devil has no say over Him, then it follows that he also has no say over those who are His ambassadors. We are clearly instructed to be keenly aware of the wiles of this devil, to recognize that he continues to prowl about looking for a Christian he can destroy. But, we are called to that awareness with another, greater awareness. He has no say. He cannot tempt you farther than Father allows. He cannot harass you beyond those limits the Father sets. And Father sets those limits very carefully, with the utmost concern for your wellbeing.
Trouble is, we want our wellbeing to have more of a Hollywood feel to it. We want a happy middle to go with the happy ending. But, God knows that the ending requires strength training. What was I reading earlier today in Table Talk, about how we see the great athletic feat that comes as the culmination of years of practice, but we are not generally privy to those practice years. I am more inclined towards music analogies than sport. But, the same can be said of an accomplished musician. That masterful technique and depth of expression don’t come overnight. It’s not something they were born with except, perhaps, in seed form. It’s the result of long effort, years spent training the fingers, feet, voice, what have you, to their parts in producing the music that results. And, those years were not always pleasant to hear.
Faith is no different in that regard. To arrive at that perfection which awaits at the end requires that we exercise our sanctity throughout the years that precede the end. No, we don’t arrive there by our own effort. But, neither do we arrive without effort. God, as I have often commented, is not particularly fond of sluggards. Read the Proverbs, and see how often sluggardly ways are condemned, pronounced lethal to the practitioner thereof. By God’s design, we are actively involved in this process of sanctification, even though its success lies entirely in His hands. By His design, we are set to oppose the devil in his machinations, to resist him, to cause him to flee. Yet, we are powerless in ourselves. All of this exercise we go through is done not to tone up our own muscles, but to demonstrate His, to cooperate with His.
The same is to be understood of adversity. Adversity does not come to crush us, but to strengthen us. Adversity does not come as punishment to the believer, but as discipline. We need our lean times to remember who we are. We need, dare I say it, those times of illness to remind us that our strength is an illusion. We need constant reminding that for all those grand thoughts we think about ourselves, we are dust, grass that withers with the first heat wave, so momentary in our existence as to make thoughts of our permanence laughable. And yet, we persist in thinking ourselves something, thinking we can somehow leave monuments to ourselves that will last. Please! Mountains will fall, the seas will dry up. The very planets shall be shaken from their course, and the stars shall be extinguished. And we think these buildings and statues we erect will persist? We think that carving a mountain in our likeness will preserve our greatness in perpetuity?
Far be it from us to think these thing! If there is anything by which we shall leave a lasting mark on history, it shall be that same thing by which Jesus settled the entire course of history. It shall be that we obeyed God. There is no other legacy to leave.
