The Trio (04/02/22)

I want to start by briefly considering those three men sending this letter.  I shall take them in reverse order, beginning with Timothy.  As regards Timothy, there’s not really a great deal that needs to be said.  He is familiar to us, as he appears often in the record of Paul’s ministry.  We see that by the time of Paul’s return to Derbe and Lystra on his second journey, Timothy is already a believer and already serving as a messenger between churches in the area.  Paul’s reference to him as a son in the faith suggests his story may well have begun during the first of Paul’s trips.  At any rate, he is of mixed parentage, his mother being Jewish and his father Greek.  His mother and grandmother have both converted to Christianity, again we may presume this is the result of Paul’s first visit.

He joins Paul and Silas at this early stage of the journey, and so far as can be seen, he never ceases from that point onward.  He is often apart from Paul, but this is due to Paul entrusting him with the task of bearing word to various churches.  But he is entrusted with far more than letters.  He is entrusted with ministering to these churches, to expounding upon the message he bears, exhorting, admonition, and encouraging as needed.  He is, then, a trusted general in Paul’s employ.  When a church is in need and Paul can’t go himself, this is his first choice:  Send Timothy. 

We see, later in this letter, that already he is entrusted with such duties, being sent back to Thessalonica.  Can you imagine?  Here is one Paul thinks of as his own son in the faith, and the situation in Thessalonica was not going to be any much calmer than it had been at his departure some few months back.  The opposition from the Jews there had been so fierce that they not only sought to bring the church to court on charges of treason there, they chased the church as the trio moved on to Berea, and tried again.  Is it really likely that this opposition had just dissipated in the course of the subsequent months?  It seems not, for Paul notes persecution arising from their own people as well.  But Timothy, young as he was, could be trusted to deal with the situation.

Years later, we see he has been sent off to cope with Corinth, that church with its myriad issues.  Again, this was a daunting task assigned the young man.  But he appears to have handled it perfectly well.  And then, later still, we find him having charge over the work in Ephesus, where it seems he finished his days and his career in ministry.

Throughout, whatever weaknesses he may have had, and whatever challenges may have arisen due to his relative youth, he proved himself.  Let us say rather that he proved God.  As his mentor Paul, so he ran the race and finished well.

Silas, on the other hand, seems to play somewhat a lesser role.  That is not to say he isn’t trusted.  I do note, however, that he is not a direct result of Paul’s ministry.  Rather, he comes from the church in Jerusalem, where he is noted as having been a leading man.  Was he accounted among the elders there?  I don’t think we go that far, although it’s possible.  It suffices to recognize that his conversion came about under the ministry of Peter, James, and John, rather than under Paul.  But, like Paul, he is both Jewish by birth and Roman by citizenship.  Clearly, from Luke’s perspective, he is fundamentally Jewish.  Thus, we find him consistently identified as Silas in Luke’s account in Acts.  This might be a tell of sorts.  Early on, it seems Paul still had hopes of reaching his Jewish brethren out in these far reaches.  We see it in the record of his work in Thessalonica.  It begins with a three week stretch attempting to present Christ as Messiah in the synagogue.  That had some very limited success, it seems, but primarily amongst the proselytes, those Greeks who had begun to practice Jewish faith, but who would not be granted full status.  Mind you, they came from among the well-to-do, and as such, their association and their wealth was welcome enough with a group that was particularly mercantile by nature.  There is some argument that their fierce opposition arose not so much over religious differences as over the economic and social losses implied by the departure of these wealthier Greeks.

But I am trying to focus on Silas.  What I see is a man who is always in a secondary role.  That is not by any means to downplay his value nor his commitment.  Some of us just thrive better in such roles, laboring more behind the scenes.  Now, Silas is not, in fact, behind the scenes.  But he’s not a general, either.  He’s not the one being entrusted to head off with words of correction for the church.  Perhaps this is simply because the ministry is focused among the Greeks, and Silas is too clearly Jewish.  But I don’t think that’s it.  After all, Paul was pretty clearly Jewish as well, and if we look at the difficulties in Corinth, it doesn’t look like being Jewish was making other ministers less welcome there.  If anything, it leant them an air of authority.

But where we see him serving more or less on his own is in Berea.  And what little we learn of Berea suggests a far more receptive Jewish population in that place, and there, we might surmise, he was the right man for the job, the right tool for the spread of the Gospel in that setting, more so than young Timothy.  To be fair, it’s entirely unclear whether Timothy even went to Berea, but I expect he did.  It was still a trio in ministry at that juncture, and only later that Paul found it necessary to depart and shift focus to Athens.

I made use of a new (to me) resource this time, a text entitled ‘Great Men and Women of the Bible’.  As noted after reading its entry on Silas, it’s got a much different flavor than I would usually find welcome, but it has some useful insights as well.  As regards Silas, I rather liked their summation.  He is not presented to us as one of the great movers and shakers in this early phase of the Church.  But he is presented as a faithful companion.  This becomes his defining characteristic as we see him.  In Philippi, imprisoned together with Paul in the deepest reaches of the jail, he is faithful.  The two are joined in songs of praise there in the midst of trial.  In Thessalonica, troubled yet again by the locals, he remains faithful.  Left in Berea, he is faithful, continuing the ministry there until such time as he is called, together with Timothy, to reunite with Paul down in Corinth.  And there in Corinth, he remains faithful as well.

What may be most interesting, though, or at least intriguing, is the shift in name.  As noted, Luke consistently speaks of him as Silas.  Paul, however, is just as consistent in speaking of him as Silvanus.  It’s clear enough that these two names refer to the same man, and it might occur to us to wonder why there’s this clear divide in his identification.  It’s not unusual to find the Jews of this period having both a Jewish and a Greek or Roman name.  Paul, of course, was also known as Saul.  We tend to think of that as being a change he made in response to the great change that came over him upon his encounter with the risen Christ.  But more likely, he had always borne both names, but being a Pharisee of Pharisees, tended more toward Saul.  Now, being focused by Christ upon the mission of bearing this Gospel to the Gentiles, his Greek name was more appropriate to use, and leant a sort of familiarity to his presence among them.  Did he revert to Saul in addressing the synagogues as he went?  Not that we know of, no.  But here in his epistles, he is consistently addressing churches that are primarily Gentile in makeup, and had no doubt known Silas primarily as Silvanus, regardless of Luke’s preference for Silas.

This, I think, need be seen as nothing more than accommodating the message to those one would reach.  The choice to shift to Greek names did nothing to alter who these ministers were.  It wasn’t an attempt to pretend being other than who they were.  Neither was it in any way altering the message they bore.  It was, however, a simple gesture by which to render reception of the true Gospel just that little bit more likely.  Paul’s use of Silvanus, then, would serve both to remind his readers of Silas’ ministry among them previously, and of his openness to the inclusion of the Gentiles, untroubled by demands that they adhere to Mosaic laws and practices.  Given how much trouble arose from both Jews refusing Messiah, and those who sought to enforce circumcision and other Jewish rites on the Gentile Christians, it would be particularly helpful to have this evidence of support from Jerusalem.  But it would be more helpful when not presented as such.

What I mean by this is that were Paul to present Silas as a clear declaration that those in Jerusalem actually supported and agreed with his ministry and his message, that would come across as defensive.  But instead, he is presented as, if not one of them, at least one sympathetic to them, not so caught up with his Jewish identity that he required of them a semblance of Jewishness.  No.  He is Silvanus.  You know him.  He ministered to you right alongside me.  He suffered the same persecutions from the local Jews as I did.  He has not identified with them, but with you.  He is, as we said, a faithful companion, both to me and to you.  His care for you is, like my own, in Christ, and in the certain hope of your salvation. 

Is all of this intended in the use of his Greek name here?  Obviously, we cannot say for certain.  But Paul is a careful writer, and an eloquent one.  He writes deliberately, even as he writes affectionately.  In this letter, I find it particularly evident, as you can pretty well follow the flow of his thoughts even as the subjects and focus change.  I don’t think it unreasonable to suppose a deliberate purpose in his choice of using this name rather than the other.  We might suggest that Luke’s choice, rather than emphasizing Silas’ origins, more reflects the conversation amongst the team in their private times, the familiar names that may have been used when alone.

Now let me turn to Paul.  It would be tempting to launch into a full sidebar study of the man, but that, I fear, could take years to complete properly.  I want to touch lightly upon the man, then. 

Here, I turned to Eerdman’s as reference, and I have to say that in general I find that source one to be read with care.  I think there are places where it could be a useful source, particularly in matters of temple practice and Jewish life at the time.  But its treatment of Scripture strikes me as just a bit too skeptical, and too willing to purport contradictions in the text.  Atop this, I would say they work just a bit too hard at presenting a Paul, for example, who labored to keep Christianity Jewish.  I frankly don’t see that in the record, and apparently, neither did the Jews of Paul’s day.  But set that aside.

One of the points they seek to make is this.  “Paul believed Jesus the Christ had brought the world to its final, climatic moment.”  That He saw Christ as climatic seems clear enough.  How imminent he thought Christ’s return would be is not so clear.  If that was his supposition at the first, then one must imagine that with the passing years his views had been corrected.  But yes, his message looks forward to that day even as it looks back to the cross.  To say his focus was more towards Christ’s return than toward the historical ministry of Jesus might not be a misstatement on their part.  Myself, I conclude that he presented both.  But he did not have, as the other Apostles did, the benefit of having sat with Jesus through his years of teaching and such.  He no doubt had awareness of those things, but not direct experience of them.  It would be rather surprising, then, were his ministry to have been focused on what Jesus said and did.  I also think it would have left his ministry much weaker, as he would be a relayer of secondhand news in that case.  The Apostles could speak of these things because they had been eyewitness to these things.  Both Peter and John make that clear in their epistles.  “What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we beheld and our hands handled, concerning the Word of Life” (1Jn 1:1).  What a marvelous testimony to the enormous privilege these eleven had enjoyed!  “We ourselves heard this utterance made from heaven when we were with Him on the holy mountain” (2Pe 1:18).  Again, we were with Him.  We know what went down because we were there. 

Paul couldn’t make that claim, so he didn’t.  He focused instead on what it all meant.  This Jesus, who died and rose again – to this he could testify as witness.  He was there in the city, at least, when Jesus was crucified.  This had been a big news event, particularly in Pharisaic circles.  It would not have gone unnoticed, particularly by one so vehement in his devotion to God Most High, and to Pharisaic principles.  And he had most assuredly encountered the risen Lord.  To this, too, he could bear first-hand witness.  But his learning of the Gospel had come by other means than those in Jerusalem.  His Gospel was not secondhand, in spite of his not having been there.  He had personal tutelage, it would seem, from the risen Christ.  It’s no wonder, then, that his message had more of the mystical to it than did that of say, Peter.  John, it seems to me, lies somewhere in the middle, combining the mystical with the personally evidential.

So yes, Paul focuses more on the ascended Christ.  Whether we could say the same of the Jerusalem crew is, I think an open question, but I suspect we could.  After all, preaching history only gets you so far.  It is good as laying a foundation.  But if there is to be a building upon that foundation, there must be a future.  As such, of course, there will be a focus on Christ’s return, on Christ’s kingdom come in full and in permanence.  But this focus does not come detached from history.  Rather, it is founded in history.  Paul being less directly involved in and familiar with that history, sets his sights on that one point that is most directly known:  Christ and Him crucified.

That phrase has really stuck with me since undertaking my study of 1Corinthians.  And the focus he makes note of in writing to them some five years later is the focus that was current to him as he writes to the Thessalonians.  I am mindful, as well, of his reminder to Corinth that what he preached to them was no different than what he preached to any other church.  That being the case, we can assume that his message in Philippi and Thessalonica was likewise, “Christ and Him crucified.”  If there was any departure from that at all, I should think it must have been Athens, where it seems Paul tried a more philosophical approach, and rapidly saw that such an approach was fruitless.

What do we learn?  We learn that while we should assuredly attune our presentation to the culture we would reach, we do not adopt that culture.  One cannot present spiritual truth by worldly means.  Intellect alone will not carry the day.  Christianity is not a religion to be taught so much as imparted.  That may seem a fine distinction.  My point is simply this.  We cannot expect a didactic approach to produce sound converts.  That’s not to say that we use no didactics in presenting the truth of God, that we apply no reason.  Far from it!  But reason alone will not reach the soul.  Preaching alone, teaching alone, these will not reach the soul.  It requires the inward working of the Holy Spirit, preparing hearts to receive what the ears are hearing.  There is a place for more systematic discipling, but that place is amongst those already saved, not as the means of planting the Gospel in the first place.

I am adrift.  Let me get back on topic.  Did Paul look more to the ascended Christ than the incarnate Christ?  Sure.  As noted, he hadn’t had the benefit of sitting under Jesus’ ministry in that period of incarnation.  He had, however, sat under Jesus’ ministry.  It cannot be otherwise.  But the nature of his experience leant him a different perspective, perhaps, than those who had been with Him throughout.  He focused forward.  He focused on the hope set before us by the atoning work of Christ, and what that meant for our present.  And what it meant was of eternal significance!  Here was the root of Paul’s firm defense of salvation by faith alone.  This did not set aside works, but it set aside any thought of personal merit in the matter.  No, salvation came about in spite of you.  You were powerless to save yourself, let alone anyone else.  And the Apostles, for all their significance, were in the same boat.  It is Christ’s perfect sacrifice credited to your account or you are yet indebted entirely beyond your means to repay.

So, then, Paul looked to the kingdom.  He presented the kingdom.  Did not Jesus do the same?  What was His immediate message as He began ministering?  “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Mt 4:17).  And that message continued throughout, that the kingdom was near, present even, although not in the way of, say, the Roman Empire’s presence.  “My kingdom is not of this world.  If it were, My servants would be fighting to prevent Me being delivered up to the Jews” (Jn 18:36).  But the Kingdom is at hand!  It is ever at hand, having been inaugurated in the arrival of Christ among man, born of a woman to experience firsthand the life of His creation.

One or the other of my sources observed how apt such a message would be for reaching the Jewish diaspora.  They chafed under Gentile rule.  That hadn’t changed since Jesus died.  Rome was still there.  The necessity of dealing with Gentiles was still there.  So news of the coming Kingdom was still welcome, by all means, and hearing it was nearer than ever should have been welcome news.  But then, there was that business of Messiah come and killed by Rome.  Where was the hope in that?  Messiah, as we saw amongst the populace, and even amongst the Apostles, while Jesus was here with them, was expected as conquering King, re-establishing David’s kingdom in even greater glory than before.

And so He did.  It’s just that David’s kingdom was never about a tiny slice of land on the Mediterranean coast.  It is not a kingdom of this realm, this world.  It is the restoration of all things as they were originally designed to be, the deadly leaven of sin entirely removed for all time, and all Creation restored to harmony.  That message of grace and peace with which he greets the Church?  That’s a pointer forward to the day when this kingdom, which drew near with the advent of Christ, and has remained present and powerful ever since, has arrived in its fulness, and Satan and his many followers have once for all been vanquished, adjudicated, and remanded into eternal custody in the depths of hell.

Let me try and conclude this portion.  Much is made of Paul’s brilliance in choosing the places where he ministered.  Ephesus, Thessalonica, Corinth:  These were all major ports set along major trade routes, perfectly situated for the spread of God’s Word out to the nations.  But I have to quibble here.  The record in Acts shows that Paul was not the master strategizer in these choices.  Rather he was directed by the clear hand of God, as he had been from the outset.  That he was an apostle at all was directed by the clear hand of God.  That he had such clear and deep knowledge of the Gospel was directed by the clear hand of God.  His course on these sundry mission trips was likewise directed by the clear hand of God.  We see it most fundamentally in Troas, where he was thinking to turn right and head into Asia proper.  But God said no.  Off to Macedonia with you.  And just look at the results!

This redirect by God led to the establishing of the churches in Philippi and in Thessalonica, both of which become powerhouses in the support of the mission of the Gospel.  It was this same redirection, bolstered, oddly enough, by persecution, that had led Paul to wind up in Corinth, which, while it had its issues, was yet another critical loci for the spread of the Gospel.  Think about it.  He had opted for Athens, the seat of culture.  But God had other plans.  The seat of culture wasn’t going to respond.  Corinth, for all its messiness, would.  And there it was, a hub of commerce amongst  the nations, just as was Thessalonica, and just as was Ephesus.  Here was the path to Rome, and from there to the world.  But in all this, to lay the success to Paul’s masterful choices is to miss the reality of the thing.  No, the success was entirely due to Paul’s heeding of God’s leading, which is to say, it’s down to God.

Success in ministry is ever down to God.  It is never about us, though it most assuredly involves us.  What is the praise given these Thessalonians?  News of their fervency not only in learning this religion, not only in joining together for worship services, but in living it out, in spreading news of God’s great work far and wide, was already making the news, even down here in Corinth!  That’s a response most immediate and most powerful.  The church in Thessalonica wasn’t just sitting pretty in its saved state.  It was doing the work of God, just as their founder Paul was doing.  They, too, heard and obeyed in pursuing that which God’s leading set before them.

May we learn to go and do likewise.  There’s yet a world of need out there.  It will not do to simply jump from your chair and start haranguing the next passer-by.  It’s a matter of God’s leading.  But it’s also a matter of our responding.  When God calls, will we listen?  And listening, will we accede to what He commands?  Or will we, like those rejected disciples back at the start, find we have other business we must attend to first, that somehow seems more important to us than the living God Who bought us from out of our bondage to sin?  I get the sense this is going to be something of a recurring question as I proceed through this letter, and it is primarily directed at me, given I am likely the only one who ever reads what I write.

The Place (04/03/22)

I have already mentioned the nature of those cities where Paul’s ministry could be said to have focused its efforts:  Ephesus, Thessalonica, and Corinth, to take them in the order visited.  Of these three, Thessalonica was perhaps the least important, as Unger’s suggests, but I’m not sure we could really say that.  Certainly, from the perspective of the Gospel, and of God’s purposes this doesn’t hold, and frankly, that’s the one measure that matters.

As noted, these three cities were all major commercial centers, and each situated at a significant junction, something of a hub for various routes.  In the case of Thessalonica, you had the bay connecting to ship traffic in the Aegean Sea to the south, you had connection to the Danube permitting access to the north, and then there was the Via Ignatia connecting it to east and west.  This route ran all the way from Constantinople to the shores of the Adriatic Sea in Dyrrachium, a run of some 500 miles and more.  It was a most impressive undertaking, I think we must recognize, which, though it didn’t cut through mountains as a modern interstate might, was still somewhat on that scale so far as achievement and impact are concerned.  The article before me suggests the actual length was nearer 695 miles, once one takes all the turns and elevations and such into account.  And it was built well enough that its path is still quite visible today.

Why does this matter?  Well, for one, this would have been the reason Paul’s travels took the course they did, for the Via Ignatia connected Philippi to Thessalonica, passing through Amphipolis and Apollonia in between, just as Paul’s travels are noted as doing in Acts 17:1.  But as well as Paul’s travels, there would have been significant commercial travel on that road, and by the time it reached the Adriatic, one was an easy sail from the port of Brindisi in Italy, and then on to the Appian Way into Rome.  All of this, along with the shipping routes that connected Thessalonica to ports like Corinth, Ephesus, and well beyond, meant that a wide array of foreigners passed through.  Much the same can be said of Jerusalem’s situation.  All of these cities were strategically chosen, as was the time, by God.  Events had arrived at the perfect conditions for the propagation of the Gospel.  He had seen to it.  And as such, He had directed His servants, men such as Peter and Paul and the other Apostles, to those specific places from which this message of salvation could most readily and rapidly reach a world in need.

Now, both Philippi and Thessalonica play a significant part in this effort.  The two cities were in some ways in rivalry with one another.  They were not so very far apart, only some hundred miles or so.  Granted, that’s a far more significant distance when traveling on foot than it would be in a car, but lay it alongside Paul’s course from Antioch, which would have been several thousand miles, undertaken, so far as we know, without benefit of any form of transport beyond the ship that took him from Troas to Philippi.  As to these two cities, you can see where rivalry might arise.  Both were port cities, and both more or less in the same area, although it seems perhaps Thessalonica had better access to the north via waterways.  Both also vied somewhat as to political status, although their status differed. 

Philippi was a Roman city, established by Rome and largely populated by Romans, in the form of their military.  Indeed, one could assess that the city was more or less focused on the military rather than on commerce.  Thessalonica, on the other hand, was a commercial hub, a city of longstanding presence, home to a large Greek population, as well as a sizable Jewish contingent.  Philippi would pride itself on the Roman citizenship that was the birthright of its population.  Thessalonica would pride itself on its status as a free city, under its own governance.  It could also boast of being the capital of some or all of Macedonia, depending on the period we have in view.  If you look at the names of these two cities, you see another point of competition.  Philippi was clearly named after King Philip II.  Thessalonica was named for his daughter, at least by most accounts.  Both were involved in major battles in the course of Roman rule, Philippi being the place of Mark Antony’s avenging of Julius Caesar’s murder, and Thessalonica having served as a base for Pompey’s war against Caesar.  But both had prospered and gained in importance to Rome and to the region.

The point is, both were significant cities in the region, and, which is more of interest to our concerns, both were significant in terms of their support of the ministry.  They both prospered in that they both served as catalysts in the spread of the church into the world of the Gentiles.  Philippi is seen as quickly responding to the Gospel, even though Paul and Silas wound up imprisoned there.  In this letter, we find Paul acknowledging their support of his efforts in Thessalonica – their rival city!  That rivalry paled to insignificance in light of this new brotherhood in Christ.  Power in Rome or in Macedonia were of little concern when the Kingdom of Christ was at hand.

As to Thessalonica, we can sense their energetic reception of this good news of the kingdom, as Paul notes that word of their faith and their efforts to plant Gospel seed beyond the walls of their own city had already spread.  And, as I said, this was clearly God’s plan from the outset.  These were places positioned to spread that Gospel seed with utmost effect.  There’s a reason we don’t learn as much about places such as Berea, Galatia, or Lydda.  They had their importance, as does every local congregation.  But they weren’t key players in the way these commercial hubs were.  The import was not the commerce.  The import was the ease of communication and the cosmopolitan nature of the ever-changing population of these cities.  These meant that not only did the local body thrive, but the opportunities for spreading the Gospel were endless.

The distinct nature of these two Macedonian cities, interestingly enough, serves to validate the authenticity of the account of Paul’s travels that we find in Acts.  Much was made, at one point in time, of Luke’s description of the governing body in Thessalonica as politarchs in Acts 17:6.  We lose sight of this, somewhat, in translation, as it tends to simply be presented as ‘authorities’.  But it caused some consternation amongst those inclined to disbelief, for politarchs were not spoken of in Roman government.  There, you had lictors and the like.  Well, yes.  And when Paul is brought to the authorities in Philippi, Luke speaks of them as archontas, or strategois (Ac 16:19-20).  But Philippi was a Roman city with Roman governance.  Thessalonica was a Greek city, granted to be a free city under Greek governance.  And Greek governance was by its own people, by a group selected to come together for the purpose of resolving matters of civil importance.  As to those who were so sure that this mention of politarchs meant the author of Acts was fabricating his history, it in fact demonstrates his intimate familiarity with the region.  The very Roman ruins that were taken away from that city declare the same form of government, and list the names of those politarchs at the time one of Rome’s victory arches was built in the city.  Interestingly, three of those names are familiar to us as men of Thessalonica who became noteworthy to the work of Paul’s ministry.  Whether they were in fact the same three men as we meet in Scripture is not clear, but it’s curious, isn’t it?

All of this is interesting, but we may be inclined to question why time should be spent in consideration of such things as ancient history and civil setting.  To that, I could answer from the standpoint of proper interpretation.  If we don’t know the culture of those involved with events when these letters were written, we can’t rightly perceive the purpose of the writing.  And that leaves us at risk of misinterpreting what we find written.  But I rather like Eerdman’s reminder in this regard.  These texts which we speak of as the Epistles were “real letters dealing with real situations.”  From the perspective of an infant church and of Paul, who had fathered those churches, these epistles served as substitute for his presence.  He couldn’t be everywhere.  When difficulties arose in one place, he couldn’t just drop the work of the ministry where he was and return.  Indeed, being imprisoned in Rome in his later years, he couldn’t have done so period.  But he could send his representatives, and he could send his letters.  He could still advise.  He could still encourage and console.  And what we see is that his heart, his thoughts, and his prayers were ever with each one of those churches.  The needs of ministry may have required him to separate from them as to his person, but as he warmly tells the church in Thessalonica, he was never separate from them in spirit (1Th 2:17).

This, I think, offers us some insight into the nature of Paul’s message.  It’s in keeping with the things we see him teaching more directly in Galatians and Romans, I think, though there it is primarily concerned with the common heritage of Jew and Gentile in the Church.  But look at the region.  This had ever been a land of tribal conflicts and rivalries.  However much they may have been united as provinces under Roman governance, it was, one suspects, a rather fitful unity.  Take away the might of Rome, and it would hardly surprise if those rivalries heated up again.

But Paul points us higher, to the spiritual unity that in fact knits all the local churches which are in Christ into the one, mystical Church that transcends both location and time.  We are one with the saints down through the ages.  We can go right on back to Abraham.  We can go right on forward until such time as Christ returns.  There is no distinction.  There is no pride of place.  There is no separation that renders one church independent of others.  That may be hard to see with such a range of denominations as pertain in the present, but so long as those various denominations are in fact true to Christ, nothing prevents our unity with them but pride.  And pride is never a good thing.

Let us recognize our brethren even where our denominational distinctions may cause us to walk separate paths.  We serve one God in one faith, as it ever was.  Let us, then, celebrate that unity.  Let us pray for one another, that God would continue to work faith in us, and to grant that we might be useful and effective in the same work as occupied Paul:  Spreading news of this marvelous gift of God to the nations to those still in need of hearing it.  May we labor on, and do so with Spirit-filled efficacy, so long as the harvest remains.

The Church (04/04/22-04/05/22)

Having identified themselves as authors, Paul and company next turn to identifying the recipient of this epistle:  The church of the Thessalonians.  It strikes me that in our day, the very concept of church has fallen on somewhat hard times.  For various reasons and in various ways, there seems to be a negative reaction to the idea of a church, a gathering place to which those who belong to Christ are drawn each week, or perhaps multiple times each week.

We hear the complaint, for example, that the church is the people, not a building.  Okay, fair enough.  The term does in fact refer to ‘the congregation of those called out’, to take from Zhodiates’ definition.  At root, it has that meaning, doesn’t it:  Called out of?  But if we are called out of, there is an implicit calling to, I should think.  If we are gathered as a congregation, there must be a place at which we gather, else how shall we gather at all?

Well, let’s dig behind this word just a little bit.  First off, it is not some term coined specifically for the Christian age.  It is drawn from mundane civil usage, and in particular, its usage as concerns the Greek form of self-governance.  Indeed, I suspect the term was something quite familiar to the populace of Thessalonica, given their status of being a free city under their own local form of governance.  Their own local form of governance was, in fact, an ekklesia, a group called out of the general populace to come together for purposes of determining matters relating to the governance of the city.  These politarchs of which Luke speaks were the called-out ones, chosen for the purpose.

Now, take that back to the matter of the church.  We, too, are the called-out ones; called out of the world by our Lord and Savior, and yet left to be in the world as His representatives.  We are set as representing His governance.  We are not passive observers of the happenings around us, nor silent as to the sinfulness of sin.  We are not, however, an ungovernable rebel force seeking the overthrow of such governments as may pertain, however much they may need reform or even replacement.  No.  We are called by our Lord to honor those who rule over us, recognizing them as God’s appointees to that purpose.  Like David when he had been anointed King over Israel but there remained the question of Saul, we are not granted to take matters into our own hands and overthrow the ungodly ruler, but rather we are commanded to honor even the likes of them, not for their ungodliness, but rather for their office as God’s representative authorities.  Are there limits to this?  I think so.  Certainly, if government insists we adopt practices contrary to the law of God, we shall have to refuse.  But in what fashion?  Do we seek to forcibly evict these usurpers?  No.  We are likely, however, to find it necessary to suffer the punishments that may be imposed upon us for our refusal.  It may not be as enticing a prospect, but it seems evident enough that this is the course chosen by our Lord for His faithful servants.  David, Daniel, Joseph, Peter, John, Paul; the list goes on.  These were not rebels come to overthrow.  These were men of conscience, who had learned well the lesson of Jesus.  “Don’t fear those who can kill the body but can’t touch the soul.  No!  Fear Him Who has power to destroy both body and soul in hell” (Mt 10:28).

There is another aspect of this that must be emphasized in our present day, as it seems more and more suppose they can be a church of one, or a virtual church, ever so connected with believers all around the world, but utterly isolated when it comes to any local gathering.  The church is not of this nature.  The church is always local.  Once upon a time, we in America understood this.  Go back to colonial times, and one discovers, at least up here in New England, that towns were formed on the basis of keeping the local church local.  The town we used to live in was established on exactly that basis.  Being farmers for the most part, the populace was rather spread out, and eventually, was spread out to such a degree as made getting to church of a Sunday somewhat difficult.  When this proved to be the case, what was one to do?  Well, with enough local folks in the same general vicinity, what one was to do was to establish a new town with its own church.  Keep it local.  Keep to where all can gather together.

Whatever the form of the ancient church, the ones Paul planted, for example, this much holds.  They gathered together.  They met together.  They came together both to worship God and to build one another up.  Why was the church in Thessalonica so significant, so influential in the region?  Because its members had something of a mutual aid society going amongst themselves.  Because as they met together week by week, they built one another up in holy faith.  Faith is bolstered by proximity to like faith.  Considering the persecutions they faced, by Jew and Gentile alike, faith would need bolstering.  How easy it is to fold under pressure.  To stand is hard.  To stand alone is, quite frankly, impossible.  We are designed to need each other.  We are gifted uniquely, each supplied in part by God, such that no man is an island.  No man is so endowed by God as to be a church of one, with all necessary gifts and understanding so as to be in need of no one.  No.  We need one another.  By design, we need one another.  You have strengths to complement my weaknesses, and my gifts supply your need in turn.

Now, to hear of the church as a mutual aid society may offend some.  After all, church is about worshiping God, not satisfying your needs, right?  Right.  But simultaneously wrong.  Had you no needs, there would be no reason for the church to exist.  There would be no need for Christ and Him crucified.  There would be no Christianity.  Further, as James takes pains to encourage us, the love of God shed abroad in our hearts demands that we take His example in actively loving our brother.  Let me take that instruction into the example before us in the Thessalonians. 

As we move on in this letter, Paul praises them for their practice as concerns ‘the love of the brethren’ (1Th 4:9).  What is in view here?  Well, let’s consider the calling of this church and also its circumstances.  We learn, from Acts 17, that the church’s roots came at least in part of those who had been culled out of the local synagogue.  It seems likely that these were primarily Greeks who had become proselytes to the Jewish faith.  It also would seem to be the case that at least some in their number (and likely most) were men and women of wealth and influence in the city.  We are told that ‘a number of the leading women’ of the city were amongst that group.  And given the involvement of the Jewish population in the world of commerce, likely those particularly sought out for association as proselytes were also drawn out of the upper tier of commercial life.  These would be useful friends, after all, good people to know if one were to thrive in business.  It made a handy networking opportunity.

Now, don’t suppose this is some particular depravity of the Jews, that they would make of their religious gatherings an opportunity for such profane matters as commerce and gain.  First off, I think we need to recognize just how central the synagogue was to Jewish life.  Yes, it was primarily a religious center, but it was also a social, civil center.  And let me just say that the Church, modeled as it is on the nature of the synagogue, should share this aspect.  And it does, doesn’t it?  For some, that may be the sole reason for showing up, which is not something to be commended.  But we know it happens.  It’s a place to make connections, to network, to round up business opportunities.  I don’t see them so much anymore, but there used to be the habit of distributing little pamphlets in which those businesses run by our brothers could advertise, so that the faithful could know which businesses to trust and support.  Except, of course, that advertising in those little pamphlets was by no means an assurance of true faith and trustworthiness.  Some would make it an opportunity to prey upon the gullible faithful.

Why do we see issues with sexual predators in the church so often?  I must note that this is hardly something unique to the church.  Check your local school system, or the halls of government, for that matter.  Same issues are to be seen.  The issue is not something about the church and its corruption, nor about the school and its corruption, nor even about the government and its corruption.  The issue is with the sinfulness of sin, and the wanton sinner seeing an easy mark.

Having just wrapped up my study of 2Peter, what was the issue there?  False teachers, false believers, would enter the church, appearing in most regards to be truly fellow Christians, but secretly introducing their lies, and eventually brazenly proclaiming their lies in hopes of peeling away those of similar, lust-driven appetites, lest the devil, their father, suffer greater losses.  I expand a bit on Peter’s point, but only a bit.  The church, by its nature as a welcoming family of faith, finds itself exposed to infiltration by those who would take advantage of that loving nature God has inculcated in us.  Minister in a poorer community and you will see it clearly.  They will come seeking handouts, but not a hand up.  They will come thinking they have found an easy mark, whose sympathies will incline them to give financial aid, which they can then run off and turn to their unrepentant, sinful habits.  The sexual predator comes knowing our natural inclination as sons of God is to welcome the new believer, to offer every possible positive reception to them, even if they seem a bit off.  After all, we were all once a bit off, right?  We did not begin with the doctrines we hold dear today, but came by them over long years.  Oh, the basics were there at the outset, yes, but some of our opinions have had to be shorn off by experience.  So, if their views seem just a bit askew, well, we shall disciple them, and they shall grow.  It just doesn’t occur to us that wolves in sheep’s clothing have entered in.  And next thing you know, there’s trouble.

As to those pulpits handed over to men and women who by their every profession lay waste to the counsel of Christ, what can be said, other than that these are not the church of the called out, but rather the synagogue of Satan.  Is that harsh?  So be it.  One cannot wear the Christian name and proclaim the message of antichrist.  And if somebody reading this should in fact belong to such a gathering as would allow the likes of these profaning preachers in the pulpit, understand this:  One cannot sit under such preaching and continue to lay valid claim to the name of Christian.  To take from Joshua’s great message, choose you this day who you will serve.  Will you follow the gods of this land in which you are living, or will you serve the Lord (Josh 24:15)?  If it is so disagreeable to you to serve the Lord, then go from His house and serve the gods you choose.  Don’t, however, pretend that you can do the latter in the house of the former.

  Well, so far, I’ve made it through my first point.  Seem to have got a bit caught up in it.  So be it.  I will just add this last bit on the subject of the term church – okay, two bits.  First, understand that the term was not something that Paul or the other apostles came up with.  Jesus Himself speaks of the church, the ekklesia.  It’s there when Peter makes his great confession that Jesus is in fact Messiah, the Son of the living God (Mt 16:16-18).  Jesus, in response, notes the confession and proclaims that upon this rock He will build His church, His ekklesia, a force against which the gates of Hades shall not withstand.  Later, in laying out the disciplinary powers of the church, the term appears again.  After the efforts at privately addressing sin have failed, when confronting the sinner in his sin in the presence of two or three elders of the church has failed to bring that one to repentance, ‘tell it to the church.  If he won’t even listen to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax-gatherer’ (Mt 18:17).  The whole body of the called out ones must know that this one who seemed to be part of them is not in fact part.  What to do?  Do we shun such a one?  That may be required for a season, in order that repentance may come.  But it is not a verdict of permanent anathema.  No, it is recognizing that individual for what he is:  One outside the congregation of the elect.  He may yet hear that call and repent.  But until he does, know him for what he is.  And pray for him, as you would for the Gentile, for the tax-gatherer.  (And isn’t it something that of those four gospels recorded for our benefit, this message comes to us by way of Matthew, the former tax-gatherer!)

Okay, last note for today:  I mentioned the form of government that applied in Thessalonica, and isn’t it wonderfully apt that Paul, in presenting the Gospel to them, comes to plant an ekklesia, a council of the called out?  But this is not a subset of the believing population set forth to govern the rest.  No, it is the entire population of that church, called out, together as one body, to stand amidst the wider population as God’s representatives.  Here is the voice of the true Authority, the voice that speaks truth to power, to take that phrase so happily claimed by whoever has a grievance with the order of things.  Often enough, that speaking of truth to power is merely a seeking to enforce one’s sinful will.  But when the Truth is truly Truth – God’s Truth – it is indeed powerful to the tearing down of strongholds, however pitifully weak that body which speaks it may seem.

The church, dear ones, may appear weak and ineffective.  But I tell you it is not.  The gates of hell will not prevail against it.  This is not down to how fiery a preacher fills the pulpit, or what programs we have in place, or which denomination we happen to belong to.  It is entirely down to the Gospel preached and lived, and that, in turn, is entirely down to God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, which grants me to segue to the remaining portion of this particular sub-head.  But that shall be a task for tomorrow.

Paul speaks of the church of the Thessalonians in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.  But we might ask to whom or what that last clause applies.  Is it that Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy write to them in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, or is it the church that is so? The general consensus appears to be that it is the church that is indicated as being in God and Christ.  And this is an important thing to note.  Given the Jewish presence in that city, and the synagogue in which Paul had begun his efforts there, this speaks to a distinctly different group.  They may have come, in part, from the synagogue of the Jews, but now they were the church in God and Christ.  Things have changed.

Indeed, the Living Bible goes so far as to suggest the meaning is, ‘you who belong to God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ’.  That is a powerful declaration, and it holds, whether it is exactly Paul’s intent with this greeting or not.  If there is a church, it is for this reason, God the Father has so ordained it, and it has gathered under Jesus Christ her Lord.  God fathered the Church.  Jesus, to be sure, is its foundation and head, but His work has ever been in perfect accord with the eternal plan and purpose of Father God.  Think of His testimony in this regard.  “The Son can do nothing of Himself, unless it is something He sees the Father doing; for whatever the Father does, these things the Son also does in like manner” (Jn 5:19).  This includes the establishing of that church, founded upon the rock of the revelatory testimony that Jesus Messiah is Son of the living God, that church against which the gates of hell will never prevail.

Understand this fully.  The church, being composed of those individuals called out of the world in accordance with the Father’s holy will, is His creation.  If we find it in ourselves to revile the church in its manifested form, or to reject its necessary value in the life of the Christian, we are doing nothing less than rejecting God the Father, and rebelling against His will.  If, on the other hand, we think to take and reshape that church after our own preferences and our own ideas, we are doing nothing less than functioning as Satan’s emissaries, seeking as he does to usurp the Father’s rightful place as God alone.  The Church is entirely the Father’s.  It is His determined, singular plan for promulgating the Gospel and faith in Him and in the Son He sent.

That Church may, being present amongst fallen man, often look fallen itself.  Indeed, as I have often had cause to observe, there is no church so pure that it does not have amongst its members those who are members in name, but not in reality.  It was ever thus, and it ever will be so long as this present order persists.  Jesus told us as much, didn’t He?  His enemy came, sowing tares amongst the wheat that is His people.  They were all but indistinguishable as they grew side by side in His fields.  But when things ripened and came into their fulness, there were the tares, poisonous to life, in amongst the nourishing wheat.  Why had He not dealt with these infiltrating weeds sooner?  Even when His laborers noticed the problem and suggested rooting out the tares, what was His answer?  “No; lest while you are gathering up the tares, you may root up the wheat with them” (Mt 13:24-33).  They will be dealt with in due time.  Don’t worry.

Here is a note of concern to be borne by those charged with oversight of the Church and in particular with the exercise of Church discipline.  Be careful about weeding too vigorously.  Yes, your eye must be open to those who would, as Peter and John and others have warned, come in to spread false beliefs and seek to mislead the flock.  Against such as would do harm to the faithful, by all means be diligent.  And, should there be a brother or sister whose sins have become so blatantly unrepentant as to become a blight upon the testimony of Christ, certainly, follow the Scriptural mandate as concerns their discipline, and if necessary, their expulsion for a season; but ever in hopes of repentance.  But if we become too concerned for maintaining a perfectly pure Church, we will find we have done harm to those who are indeed redeemed in the course of trying to protect them.  We will find sound, earnest believers compelled to depart due to the vehemence of our attempts to protect.  Jesus was wiser.  We must be as well.

Okay, with that little diversion, important though it is, let me turn from Father to Lord.  The Church in God the Father has Jesus Christ as her Lord.  But we in the west have little way of understanding the full import of that term.  And the few examples we see of one with such power over his populace are so universally corrupt that they hardly serve to recommend that import.  For one, they don’t really embody it.  Both lord and tyrant share like power over their subjects.  In both cases, their word is law, and they have the power and authority to impose their word, should you be inclined to test them.  But the nature of that law, that authority, in its exercise is entirely different between the two.  The tyrant, even if we posit a benevolent tyrant, imposes his will for evil.  Oh, sure, the populace may benefit from certain aspects of his rule, but solely because he finds it to his purpose.  A healthy populace, after all, can be bent to his imposed labors far more effectively than a populace that is weakened by neglect.  Keep your slave well-fed and well-watered, and he can perform ever so much more for you.  It’s just like tending plants in that regard.

But the Lord is truly benevolent.  He governs for the good of His people.  He has the power, to be sure.  It is for Him to decide.  What shall the form and function of the Church be?  It is for Him to decide.  How shall we go about spreading this Gospel with which He has entrusted us?  It is for Him to decide.  Who are we to account as belonging to Him?  It is for Him to decide.  So, if He calls us to expand His kingdom through the foolishness of preaching the Gospel, who are we to quarrel?  He has the power to decide, and the authority to enforce His decision.

If indeed we are the Church in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, then Jesus Christ is the head of the church.  The head commands, and the body, which is the Church, responds.  It does not argue.  It does not take counsel together to decide whether or not this latest missive from the head should be heeded or not.  The head says ‘walk’, and the foot moves, the legs pump, and the body walks.  If the head says ‘sit’, the knees bend, as does the waist, and seat is taken.  If the head says, ‘preach the gospel’, the body has no other message.  If the head says, ‘teach them to obey my laws,’ the body undertakes to so explain and so demonstrate obedience to his laws as to bring about that obedience, and the body exercises such discipline as becomes needful to further encourage such obedience.

Lord, however, is not tyrant.  We are not kowtowing to the impositions of one we cannot refuse, even though the reality be that He is in fact so powerful and so all-encompassing that refusal is not a real possibility.  No, for the believer, Lord is a title of highest honor.  Indeed, R.C. Sproul has argued that this title is in fact the Name above all names of which Scripture speaks.  It is an address of greatest honor, to be applied to no other.  It acknowledges His status as both Master and Teacher.  It asserts His rightful authority over we, His people.  He is Lord.  If we fully understand and internalize the reality of that declaration, then we, being His people, obey.  But we obey not for fear of retribution should we fail to do so.  We obey for the loving desire to be true sons and daughters of the living God ourselves.

Jesus, as I observed earlier, said and did only what He saw the Father doing and saying.  In this, our eldest Brother set an example for we who would follow after.  As we heed His instruction, we are in fact doing and saying what the Father is doing and saying.  If we are doing anything else, then we are no longer functioning as the Church in God and Christ.

The church in Thessalonica is found, at least in this period in which Paul writes, to be established in the Father and in Christ.  So it is in every age and every place.  If it is the Church, it is established in the Father and in Christ.  If it is the Church, it is not only established so; it is maintained in that state of being in the Father and in Christ.  If it is not in Father and Son, it is not Church.  We can enter the Holy Spirit into this whole declaration without compunction, and indeed, we daren’t exclude Him from it.  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are One God, each Person as wholly God as the others, each attested to by Scripture, as individually active, but ever in perfect harmony, for again:  the Lord your God, He is One.  This has never changed.  But then, He has also ever been spoken of and heard in the plural, hasn’t He?  “Let us make man in our image.”  Hear, O Israel!  Yahweh our Elohim is one Yahweh (Dt 6:4).  The Lord our Gods is One Lord.  To Him, Father, Son, and Spirit, we belong.  In Him resides the power and authority of decision as to our disposition and action, and yes, even our words.

Thayer’s Lexicon observes that prior to the establishing of the Church in Christ, religious practices, be they Jewish or pagan, did not use the word Lord in their prayers.  That lexicon further notes that even in Luke and John you do not find the term applied to Jesus in their coverage of events prior to His resurrection.  This is telling, isn’t it?  It was in the summation of His death on the cross, by which He sealed His perfect obedience to the whole law of God, obeying even unto death, that He obtained the right to stand forevermore as Lord of the Church.  It was in His resurrection that the Father sealed that right to Him, and in His ascension, He has taken up forever that office and its duties.   He remains forever our one, eternal High Priest.  He remains forever head of the Church He established in accord with the perfect will of the Father. 

Thus it is ever established.  Thus it ever remains.  May it know reformation and restoration so often as may prove necessary, but may we never be so boldly foolish as to reject that which God has established for our needful good.  This church, with all its blips and blemishes, remains the work of Christ, the singular, irreplaceable, unalterable plan and purpose of Almighty God.  It is His to correct when correction is needed.  It is His to direct when direction is needed.  It is His period. 

In this body of God’s own choosing and design, we discover ourselves incorporated as integral limbs and organs.  Paul uses the image often of this mystical body which is the corporate church, composed of its several distinct members with their several distinct gifts and functions.  All are not elders, and all are certainly not apostles; not even in the lower case.  All are not preachers and teachers, although all can, by their word and example, serve to spread this wonderful gospel far and wide. 

But let me leave with this clear concern expressed, with thanks to Eerdman’s.  The church has always been, from its very inception, a corporate, mystical identification.  This is not, as some might suggest, because the Apostles had internalized, or synthesized aspects of the several mystery religions then prevalent in Gentile lands.  As I have observed in other regards, so here.  It is not surprising that these various mystery religions would bear certain resemblances to the true worship of the One True God.  After all, a counterfeit that in no way resembles the real thing would hardly be effective, would it?  But the existence of counterfeits does nothing to undermine or reduce the real value of the real thing.  It just requires us to be more wary, more attentive, to ensure that what we pursue is in fact the real deal.  No, the real church, however much it may share with sundry false religions and philosophies remains the real expression of faith in the real God.

And this real church worshiping the real God is ever a corporate exercise.  Do we worship in private and pray in private?  I certainly hope so, although I would have to admit I don’t do so nearly so often as I ought to do.  But in those moments of private prayer and worship, we are not the church.  We are individual believers.  To take communion in isolation, barring certain necessities of circumstance that would render it impossible to do otherwise, is to entirely miss the significance, let alone the meaning of the word.  How can there be communion where there is no ‘co’?  No, the Church is never a matter of isolated, private experience.  It is the public gathering of the called out.  It’s there in the very definition of the word Church, ekklesia.  It carries over into our private practice and life, but it is seated, founded, and built up in this communal, public gathering for the purpose of being exhorted, admonished and encouraged in the Gospel of our one Lord, Jesus Christ, and in God our Father.

The Blessing (04/06/22)

We come at long last to the greeting given the church in Thessalonica, which is by way of being a blessing.  Grace to you and peace.  Arguably this really is something of a formulaic greeting.  Grace, after all, reflects the fairly typical greeting amongst the Greeks, and peace, shalom, is ever the greeting of the Jews.  But as formulaic as it may be, yet it is deserving of a bit of attention, for it is more than mere formula, coming from the pen of the Apostle and the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, of God Himself.

This is an aspect to these epistles that we must not lose sight of.  They are, as we observed, real letters written to real churches, and written by real men, as well.  But they are also letters written under the auspices of God Himself.  That is not to say that the Holy Spirit dictated, and the Apostles merely spoke as autodidacts of some sort.  No, they wrote from their own hearts and minds, but they wrote as men wholly devoted to God and chosen by Him to relay specific messages to these specific churches, but also to the generations to follow:  Grace and peace to you who are in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Now, we observed that the clause, ‘in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ’ rightly connects back to ‘the church in Thessalonica’.  That church, though, is the ‘you’ of this closing clause.  It is to you, the church.  Yes, it is to the church in Thessalonica specifically, but what defines that church, as I explored in the preceding section, defines every church that bears that name in truth.  Every church that is truly a church is a church in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, and it is solely because of that reality that grace and peace can be expected.

But what is it, this grace?  I explored that at length back when I studied Romans, lo these many years ago.  Here, I will but touch on it briefly.  Grace is first and foremost favor shown, and we might stress, undeserved favor.  But that stress belongs more to its particular application as concerns the salvation of the believer, and the forgiveness of sin that is involved so significantly in that transforming moment.  Here I think the application is a bit more general, a bit less technical.  Thayer observes that the apostolic use of grace in the course of greetings is because grace is the source of all true blessings.  If, then, you wish to bless another, how better than that you might prayerfully express desire that God might bless them?  And where is God’s blessing?  In His grace poured out.

Of course, there are those common graces which lead to the possibility of life in the first place.  There is the sun which shines in its proper times and seasons.  There are the rains that likewise come in due season.  Between them seeds grow to be plants, and plants serve as nourishment to man and animal alike, and to other plant-life, for all that.  The animals, in their turn, also supply nourishment and other useful materials for man.  And all of this comes about by the provision of God’s common grace.  It does not, generally speaking, make distinction between redeemed and unbeliever. 

There have been exceptions, and they are indeed exceptional.  In my morning devotionals, Table Talk has been proceeding through the book of Exodus, and is currently in the midst of those plagues visited upon Egypt when God decided it was time to make known that He alone is God, even over Egypt, even over Pharoah.  It is something, isn’t it, that in each of those plagues, common grace is removed.  But it is removed only from that portion of the land populated by those who do not belong to the Lord.  Over Goshen, where the Israelites dwelt, the plagues did not spread.  This morning’s article was on the plague of such darkness as had the Egyptians fearful to so much as step outside.  Now, if this did not impact Goshen, which was, after all, right next door, something terrible and marvelous had indeed occurred.  For we know that where there is light in the vicinity, it spills into the darkness and ameliorates it somewhat.  And even barring that, one would think they could have, say, lit lamps or torches or some such.  No doubt, they tried those very things, but found them to be to no avail.  This was something beyond eclipse.  This was impenetrable, unmitigated darkness such as one would not experience even on a moonless and overcast night in the deepest forest.

But the general case for these common graces is that God gives them out without distinction, without prejudice.  He supports life wherever it is found.  Let me just say that in our prayers, there is every reason to seek this supporting common grace from our gracious Father, and to render thanksgiving for that which has been received.  It’s worth bearing in mind that He is not required by law or by character to continue doing so.  That’s one of those things about grace.  It’s not required.  Favor shown is ever a gift, however much we may stand in need of that favor.  It’s not a demand that can be made.  It’s not wages paid for services rendered.  What service, after all, would you render One Who is utterly and entirely perfect in Himself?  What can you give Him that He doesn’t already possess in full?  What needful labor will you perform for the One Who has no needs, Who is dependent upon no one and no thing for His perfectly complete existence?

Yet here the Apostle makes request.  And let me stress that.  He makes request.  It is not demand.  It is not binding God to his desires.  It is humble request:  May God incline to be gracious to you.  I would say, though, that it is a request made with utmost confidence of God’s gracious answer.

God is the source of all grace, and His grace is the source of all true blessings.  We have our own ideas of what things might constitute blessings, but, like the Israelites in the wilderness, we often discover that those things we thought would bless us have in fact become a curse.  I think, for example, of the occasion when the Israelites sought something other than manna to eat.  Here was God’s perfect, miraculous provision – grace indeed poured out!  But they wanted some variety.  When do we get some meat?  I can sympathize, I confess.  But that doesn’t render it wise to grumble at God’s provision.  Oh, He gave them meat alright.  He gave them meat until they were sick of it, until His satisfaction of their demanded blessing became to them a curse.  Be careful of God’s favor.  In all things, it is surely best to let Him decide how He will bless us.  For all His gifts are good and perfect, and perfectly suited for our best and greatest good.

Paul does not seek specifics here, only that God show favor to those whom He has been pleased to call out of the darkened populace of Thessalonica to be His own church.  The most specific it gets is in the other half of this blessed greeting:  Peace.  As noted, this would be a most common word of greeting amongst the Jews, and it, too, comes by way of invoking God’s blessing upon those greeted.  Peace is God’s to give, and that peace He gives is not like that which the world purports to offer.  Jesus spoke of this to His Apostles.  “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives, do I give to you.  Let not your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful” (Jn 14:27).  At a glance, He doesn’t really say just how His peace or His giving differ from that of the world.  And after all, we know He is speaking to them of His imminent departure, and He has been explaining that it’s not going to be some happy event for them, though it will be to their absolute benefit.  The Teacher is leaving!  The Messiah, the One we were sure would restore the kingdom of Israel and rid us of these Romans, the One we believed was ushering in the kingdom of God, is departing, and where is the kingdom?  What of Rome?  Nothing has changed.  This is hardly a situation suited to encourage peace, is it?

Ah, but it was.  Because the peace which Messiah gives is Messiah’s peace.  It transcends world orders.  There is that in Thayer’s lexical entry on this word peace which I think truly captures the depth of that peace which Jesus leaves with us, which Paul seeks on behalf of the church, and which, I must add, God is pleased to impart to His church.  It is, says Thayer, the state of a soul assured through Christ, fearing nothing from God, and therefore content while remaining in this life, come what may.  This ought rightly to be our common estate in Christ.  As Paul elsewhere practically shouted, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Ro 8:31).

But let me observe, just for a moment, the obverse of this requested blessing.  I kind of stumbled upon it when searching out the passage in John.  There is another passage that finds God speaking of His peace, and it helps, I think, in understanding the breadth of His peace.  In Jeremiah 16:5, the message is delivered, and it is not a happy one.  “Do not enter a house of mourning, or go to lament or to console them; for I have withdrawn My peace from this people, My lovingkindness and compassion.”  First, I suppose, we must necessarily consider the stark reality that what God gives, He can as readily withhold, or even take back.  “I have withdrawn My peace.” What could be more terrible?  I fear we may be finding out, but I pray that as in the days of the Egyptian plagues and as in the days of Sodom’s destruction, He shall preserve His own, who are truly called by His name.

I think it must be stressed that God did not withdraw His peace without cause.  What Israel had become in that period was horrid.  They had defiled His temple, defiled His choice of them to be His people.  Israel had been created to be a nation of priests unto our God, and what priests they had become!  They abused the poor, gave no thought to anything but their own wealth and security, and had come to have near total disregard for God.  This same situation was playing out in Jerusalem around the time Paul wrote.  It had been in play when Jesus was present, and Paul had been part of it.  Here was God Himself walking among His people, and His own rejected Him, as John writes (Jn 1:11).  Jesus had declared their judgment.  “I have withdrawn My peace.”  No, He did not speak those words.  “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, that kills the prophets and stones those sent to her!  How often I wanted to gather your children together, just as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not have it!  Behold, your house is left to you desolate.  I say to you, you shall not see Me until the time comes when you say, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” (Lk 13:34-35).  “I have withdrawn My peace.”

Fast forward some forty years, and we have Jerusalem under siege by Rome, and the record of life in Jerusalem at that time reflects nothing of godliness.  They themselves profaned the temple of their God, the temple they had been convinced meant that God would never strike Jerusalem, no matter how vile their practices became.  They were wrong, terribly wrong.  But they had been wrong for rather a long time already.  They had been wrong when they stoned the prophets.  They were assuredly wrong when their Messiah came among them, and rather than repent and turn from their wicked ways, they doubled down and called for His crucifixion.  This was utter rejection of God, and in response came God’s rejection of them.

Is that a permanent matter?  It certainly was for that particular generation.  But each generation presents a fresh opportunity to hear the call, to repent in earnest and to receive that forgiveness which God so graciously proffers to one and all.  But that offer, generous as it is, remains a matter of grace, shown by Him who declared His own name to mankind, saying, “I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion” (Ex 33:19).  And there in that withdrawing of His peace, we see that His peace is intimately entwined with His name, His essential being.  In withdrawing His peace, He had withdrawn lovingkindness and compassion.  You have chosen your sins, so be it.  Enjoy them.  Enjoy the full, unmitigated consequences of them, as well.  You have desired to be apart from Me, and so you shall be.  Forever.

Now, lest I end this study on a dark  and unrelenting note, let me return to the blessed request of our Apostle for this church, of our God for His church.  Grace to you and peace.  And let me restore the assurance of our Lord, Him in Whom we are the church:  “My peace I leave with you.”  It is not withdrawn, it is left with.  He must go, but His peace remains.  Indeed, we might very well argue that His peace remains with His church precisely because He did go.  He is no longer constricted, to the degree He ever was, by His presence in human form.  After all, He retains that human form, but transformed as shall we all be so as to be fit for eternity.  But He had willingly divested Himself of godly prerogative in coming down to dwell among man – for a season.  That season has ended, and He has returned home to heaven, where He sits upon His throne, governing His kingdom, and where He stands as High Priest for His people, eternally offering prayers on their behalf, making eternal appeal to the eternal Atonement obtained in the shedding of His eternal blood.  Father, it is finished.  Their debt has been paid, and their adoption papers signed.  They are Mine because You gave them to Me, and I have not lost a one of those You have given Me.  No, nor shall I ever.  My peace I have left with them, and never withdrawn.  Grace and peace have been given.

So, hear the call to the church, delivered long ages ago by her Lord.  “Freely you received, freely give” (Mt 10:8).  You know, it struck me as I was coming downstairs this morning just how unlikely it was that we find Matthew the tax-collector writing the gospel most fully targeted for Jewish consumption.  Isn’t it an odd choice on God’s part?  Here was the voice most likely to be rejected.  He, after all, had been a collaborator, profiting on the sorrowful burdens placed upon his kin.  But when Jesus called, he answered, and near as can be determined, without the least hesitation.  The series, The Chosen has done a great job of conveying the shock of this choice.  It could not have been an easy reconciliation for the Apostles to find him called to their number.  Him?  Really, Jesus?  But the answer was clear.  Yes, him.  And he would be the one to pen this gospel with its particular connection to the old ways.  As I say, an odd choice, but the choice God made.

I mention that because it is rather telling that this instruction to freely give is mentioned by no other gospel but that of the tax-collector, Matthew.  I suppose that such an instruction would have had a shock value in his ears that it would not necessarily have had for others.  But then, perhaps it resonated because that had been his own response to that call.  He knew what he had received in being called by Jesus, and he had walked away from a fairly lucrative life, even if it was one that had cost him kin and companionship among his own people.  It doesn’t seem all that unlikely that much of the funding for the early part of Jesus’ ministry came from his proceeds.  That’s purest supposition, of course, as it must be given the records we have.  But whatever the cause, this instruction to His disciples was particularly etched in his mind.  “Freely you received, freely give.”

Combine this.  “My peace I leave with you.  Freely you received, freely give.”  This is, in its own fashion, a call to gospel ministry, isn’t it?  It’s the call to evangelize, to go and make disciples.  It’s the motive power of the Church, given her by God Himself, the font of all blessing.  But it isn’t given to the Church to be stored away in vaults, or to be cherished as some personal bauble, carefully guarded against theft.  It is given as seed to be cast, and to be cast with abandon, knowing that He who gives the seed has plenty more to supply.  I note that this is the praise reported in regard to this church to which Paul writes.  And that praise is reported, I dare say, not only to encourage them in their trials, but to encourage us in our own day to go and do likewise.

Grace to you and peace.  Indeed, may it be so, and may we be as swift and energetic as these Thessalonians to give out of these riches of grace and peace which our ours in God the Father and in Jesus Christ our Lord.