Regional History (04/22/22)

Before I turn to the content of these verses more directly, I want to take a moment or two to consider the backdrop of history for this region in which Paul is ministering.  I suspect for many of us the names Macedonia and Achaia don’t really mean a great deal.  We have a general sense of the geographic location as describing what we know as Greece.  We may have some recollection of Macedonia becoming once more a separate country not so very long ago.  But we don’t really give much thought to the matter beyond these basics.  As for Achaia, it seems quite likely to me that we’ve not even heard that name outside of its New Testament mention.  Unless you were a history or sociology major, I don’t suppose there would be any great reason why you should have.

But Macedonia had been, in its time, a relative powerhouse.  Names of renown; kings Philip and Anthony the Great ruled that land.  And surely, when we come to Anthony the Great, we recognize one of the most significant movers and shakers of the period.  Here was the one who, in very short order, expanded his kingdom from Macedonia, out through the Persian empire, and even into India, as well as spreading south around and across the Mediterranean into Egypt.  He didn’t quite manage the whole of the known world, but he had conquered a sizable chunk of it.  But it didn’t last past his death.

Meanwhile, to the immediate south of Macedonia, the region of Achaia had formed.  This would have been rather earlier, when either king Philip or Philip II had the throne in Macedonia, and it had come into being primarily as a matter of defense against that northern neighbor.  It consisted of twelve erstwhile independent cities.  That would have been the predominant form of Greek governance at the time.  Each city saw to its own governance, answering, really, to no higher authority than that.  This was well and good for governing a peaceable populace.  But in matters of international conflict, it was not a strong position.  So, they had formed a confederation of sorts, a combining of forces and resources for the common good.  Why?  Because necessity must.  A strong and ambitious neighbor required a strong and pernicious defense.  A city alone could not stand, but twelve together just might.

I will note in passing, as does the ISBE, that our own founding fathers, particularly Hamilton and Madison, looked to the example of Achaian governance in this loose confederation of independent city states as the model upon which the Constitution of the United States was formulated.  There was a time, it seems, when knowledge of ancient history was more predominant, and I have to say, given the beauty of that Constitution’s continued suitability for the governance of what is, after all, still a loose confederation of states, that such knowledge was of great benefit not only to those who knew it, but to those they served.  If there is a point to this aside, I suppose it is that the impact of these two nations continues to be felt even today, whether or not we are aware of it as being there.

But let me return to this period prior to Christ, the lead-in, if you will, to the singular, utterly pivotal moment of all history.  I noted that Alexander’s empire didn’t survive him by much.  Once reminded of this, the story may yet register from our high school days.  No sooner had he died, then his generals began bickering and fighting amongst themselves to succeed him.  In short order, it had become not one general rising above the others, but three, each carving out his own portion of the empire to rule.  And now we had the Macedonian empire to the north, the Syrian empire in the middle, and the Egyptian empire to the south.  This condition held, albeit in constant tension, pretty much up until Rome swept through in its own push for empire.

And through all of this upheaval, there was Israel at the crossroads.  We see these historical powerplays constantly through the history set before us in the Old Testament, and in the later Apocryphal writings, such as the books of Maccabees.  One point that I had rather lost was that those Seleucid monarchs, such as Antiochus Epiphanes, who had been such a vile weight upon Israel are the fruit of the Syrian Empire, which is to say they are of Macedonian origin, and had Macedonian support.  When we read of the rulers of Egypt running armies up through Jerusalem in the latter portions of the OT history, guess what?  It’s the Macedonians again.  It’s empire fighting empire, and Israel, amongst others, playing host to the battle in the middle.

So, stitch this together.  All of this infighting, all of this clash of empires, had been and continued to be local history.  Animosities had been present and growing for centuries.  Consider, just for a moment, that previous note of Macedonia having recently insisted on breaking off from Greece to be their own country once more.  These animosities are real.  They are baked in, and no amount of political manipulation and interference ever really succeeds in purging it out of a place.  And this is what, two-thousand plus years on!  In the period in which Paul is ministering, these memories are much fresher.  The ancient cause of Achaia’s formation was still there in their thoughts.  The boundary lines may have been drawn by Rome at this juncture, but the societal, tribal divisions remained what they had effectively always been and always would be.

Add Israel to the mix, and you can see where some of that hostility against these Gentile overlords had come from.  It was far more than just that call by God to be a people called out.  Indeed, I think you could argue that His call hardly entered into it at all.  After all, He had not called them to be isolationist.  He had called them to be a light in the darkness.  But they chafed under these rulers, especially, I think, the Seleucids, given their stomping on the religion of Judaism, and their defiling of the temple.  You can see how, when Roman overlords looked to do a repeat performance, the populace rose up in uproar.  Overall, by this point, they had had more than their fill of rampaging, ruinous empires.  In some ways, one suspects memory of more ancient battles with the likes of the Assyrians and the Babylonians still ran in the blood.  And here was a new Syrian empire and things replaying as in the past, poor Israel stuck with these heathen tyrants over them.  It didn’t matter if, in varying degree, they were relatively benign tyrants.  Any sort of non-Jewish governance was too much to bear.  Animosity grew, and relative impotence to do anything about it only made the animosity worse.

We know how that was playing out as Jesus came on the scene.  Israel was hot for a Messiah to come, a general to stir patriotic fervor amongst the peoples, that they might rise up as one and toss out this Roman imposition.  Oh, how they hated these Gentiles.  I mean, even those they mixed with up around Galilee were hardly welcome.  They could see what was happening, how these Hellenizing, cosmopolitan influences were weakening the unique nature of Jewish society.  And the purists weren’t happy about it.  In such a setting, the Pharisees might lose influence.  Indeed, as to the Sadducees, it could readily be argued that these influences had already wreaked their havoc, as the upper ranks of this Jewish governing group were far more inclined to be pawns of Rome than to assert their status as God’s chosen people.  Oh, they would push their case so far as holding onto power permitted, but they would also happily avail themselves of aid from these hated Romans if it meant they could keep that power.

But Israel wanted a restoration of their own empire, the kingdom that had once been theirs under David and Solomon.  They weren’t prepared for the Messiah they received.  Yet, that Messiah, through the few who continued with Him even after His death and resurrection, in their own way, in following His way, indeed conquered those empires, and in due course left this One who arose in Israel ruling as king over all.  And indeed He does, though all do not acknowledge His rule.  And indeed He shall in due course rule in such fashion as will not admit of this denial.  Every knee will bow.  Every tongue will confess His rightful lordship.  Like it or not.  Jesus reigns, and He reigns forever.  That is the marvelous, inescapable message of the Gospel.  What’s better, His reign is truly benevolent.  He comes not to destroy, but to establish true and lasting peace.  There will be conflict in the establishment of that peace, to be sure, for those arrayed against Him do not give up readily.  But it will be established, and it will stand, as does His reign, forevermore.

Now, let’s get this into Paul’s period of ministry.  Here he is, a Jew of Jews, though born in Cilicia in Asia Minor.  He is a Pharisee of Pharisees, and as such, utterly jealous for the true worship of the true God, with an innate animosity towards any other religion proposed.  And yet, he was also raised amongst Gentiles, or at least in proximity to them.  It is clear that he had been trained in the arts more common to Greek education, such as rhetoric and logic.  It is equally clear, unavoidably clear, that he was well and truly raised in steadfast faith in the God of Israel and as one compliant with all the dictates of Mosaic Law, as well as those of Pharisaic tradition.

We tend to focus on the way he was, shall we say, uniquely prepared for this ministry to the Gentiles.  We see something of the same in Silas and Timothy.  Both had, if not an affinity, at least a more tolerant familiarity with the Gentiles.  I have to note that the same could be said of Jesus and His other Apostles.  They, too, had come up in mixed company.  That region north of Samaria was commonly known as Galilee of the Gentiles.  Their presence was everywhere, far more so than one might find in Judea.  At any rate, Paul had gone forth to minister amongst these Gentiles, to bring news that in Christ Jesus, the dividing line between Jew and Gentile was being erased.

I note that his first inclination was to stick with the region he knew, with Asia Minor.  And he certainly had his successes there.  Timothy is one of them.  Ephesus, of course, was another major success, from which many of those other churches we learn of in what is now Turkey were planted.  But as he thought to turn east, God turned him north and west, into Macedonia, the powerbase of Israel’s old tormenters.  He pushed Paul to go into lands that had as much of built-up animosity as did Israel.  I have been told of a certain competitiveness between Philippi, then a seat of Roman military power, and Thessalonica, a regional capital, largely self-ruled.  But then, we also have this old division between Macedonia and Achaia, still at this point separate provinces under separate governance.  But the old animosities still smolder.

And look what comes of it!  This is not some marvelous capacity in Paul, although I have to confess that I find his capacity in presenting his  points truly marvelous.  But to bring the sort of harmonious result we see by the hands of a Jewish Pharisee, laboring amongst peoples of long-standing conflict, is nothing short of miraculous.  Indeed, the power of the Gospel was on grand display in these successes, in a fashion entirely distinct from what was transpiring in Asia Minor.  I would have to say that in Macedonia particularly, what Paul established in these churches, though his work in these places was relatively brief, established the Church.

If we look to the churches of Asia Minor, we see a record of conflict and eventual failure.  Of those churches we know about from Acts and from Paul’s letters, and those of John and Peter, how many remained by the end?  Not many.  How many remain today?  I suspect the proper answer is just about none.  Oh, to be sure, there remains a Christian presence in Turkey, but it is relatively minimal.  I suppose one could argue it always was.  But the impact of ministry in Ephesus was profound in its time.  It was truly remarkable, and remained so for many centuries before it faded.

Looking southward into Achaia, the only church we really hear about is Corinth, a church in which Paul spent a great deal of time and effort, and yet, it seems to me within little more than a century or so, there’s no trace of it anymore.  You can see these things coming in Paul’s letters.  Everything is about correcting false doctrines, combatting pagan influences, seeking to preserve the seed that has been planted.  But in the letters to Philippi and to Thessalonica, things are different, aren’t they?  Yes, there are a few correctives to be applied, but the letters are far more celebratory.  It is, to be sure, far easier to build up when one isn’t constantly having to tear down and clear away the wreckage of poor craftsmanship first.

But let me attempt to draw a lesson from all this.  We can’t help but to see the prominence of these churches – and I think we can perhaps count the Berean church in this as well – in the continued work of the Gospel.  The ISBE notes it in regard to Paul’s work, and that certainly holds.  But I don’t think that captures the whole of it.  Yes, they were important to him.  They supported him, and they were a most evident success.  No wonder he found cause to boast of their faith, but not as some proof of his artful skills.  No, they were living testimony to the power of the Gospel.  The Gospel had come to them, and produced in them such a brotherly and benevolent love as transcended old divisions.  They were known for their faith not just at home, but abroad in Achaia, and for the Achaians, this new character out of Macedonia must have come as news indeed to cause one to marvel.

Let me take just a moment to appreciate the testimony Scripture offers of these churches.  I think the ISBE captured it rather well.  “Liberality was, indeed, from the very outset one of the characteristic virtues of the Macedonian churches.”  That rings out, to borrow Paul’s words, in this epistle.  It rings out in the letter to Corinth, encouraging the collection for the saints.  Despite their challenges, and the local opposition they faced, they did not stop.  Nor did they take to marshalling their reserves against contingencies.  When others were in need, they gave.  It didn’t matter that they didn’t have much.  What they had, they gave richly.  Like the poor widow of Jesus’ parable, they gave richly from their meager supply.  And this, I think, demonstrates a depth of faith and trust uncommon amongst even the faithful.

There is, as well, what Paul notes here, which will serve to transition us into more direct consideration of the text.  They were joyful.  In spite of the difficulties they faced because of their faith, they held to their faith, and not as desperately clinging, but joyfully.  Does this mean they ran about in giddy disregard for reality?  No.  We are not discussing an inappropriate jollity, nor delusional.  We are discussing the power of God’s presence within them, counting it all joy, as James encouraged his own charges (Jas 1:2-3).  “Count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience.”  It’s not pointless annoyance.  It’s not arbitrary.  It’s to a good and holy purpose.  I think in large part that joy came as well from being counted worthy.  “Remember I told you, ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’  If they persecuted Me, they will also persecute you.  If they kept My word, they will keep yours too” (Jn 15:20).  That would be the example of many a martyr in ensuing centuries, that joy expressed in finding they had been found worthy to suffer as our Lord suffered.

That’s not the lesson, perhaps, that I had hoped to draw from this, but it’s there.  And we will explore it more at length in the next section.  Let me end here with a simple prayer.

Lord, may it be that our example is like that of Thessalonica, and that our lasting impact on behalf of the Gospel may be as theirs.  May our faith be such as is evident and known to all.  May our joy and liberality define us, and serve to demonstrate Your presence in us, serve to further Your work through us.  So may it be in us.  Amen.

Joy Under Pressure (04/23/22)

There’s a fundamental theme running through this letter, which is that of being living examples.  We know well enough what it is we are to emulate in doing so, right?  We are to live as demonstrably obedient to all that Christ taught.  We don’t just hear the word of Scripture, we live it.  We put it into practice in all that we do.  At least, that is the goal, right?  Well, yes.  But at the same time, there is a great deal of being exemplary imitators of Christ which goes beyond mere obedience. The Pharisees, in their fashion at least, sought to be obedient.  Yet they got rather far off course, didn’t they?  And that largely comes of having the wrong attitude, the wrong mindset in their pursuit of that obedience.  It was not necessarily an obedience born of fear, but neither was it truly an obedience born of reverence.  It was, to take Paul’s point in other places, a matter solely of works and not of trust.  It was a proving of self-righteousness rather than a grateful response to righteousness received.

Here, we are shown another aspect of that sort of imitation of Christ which truly displays Christ.  That imitation, that obedience, is pursued in joy, and that joy is given its proper expression.  Let me, just for the briefest of moments, emphasize the proper aspect here.  This is not gleefulness at inappropriate times.  This is not that giddy sort of laughing that might arise out of intense nervousness.  No, this is calm delight, as one of our lexicons puts it.  It may have about it some of that joyful liberty described as being like sheep leaping about for sheer joy, but not so very much of it. 

What is telling about this joy that Paul observes and commends is that it comes about in the midst of tribulation, or we might say it continues in spite of said tribulation.  It is a joy that transcends circumstance.  I have often heard it suggested that happiness is something that resonates to circumstance, whereas joy is something that runs deeper.  You know, yesterday evening our water heater expired, putting a rather exciting finish on the work week, and making for a long night for our plumber.  Can I say I was happy in the midst of this disruption?  No.  Can I say I maintained my joy?  Well, not entirely, but once the immediate matter of getting the water turned off and the cellar somewhat dried out, yes, I think so.  Now, this is hardly something that counts as tribulation.  Honestly, it’s almost a scheduled event, it’s just that the schedule is so long one tends to have forgotten it’s coming until it’s here.  Oh crud.  That again.

The tribulations faced by the Thessalonians were matters far more serious than the rather petty annoyance of a water heater’s expiration.  This was serious trouble arising specifically because of the word of God they had received and believed.  They had, Paul recognizes well, ‘received the word in much tribulation’.  That tribulation had been most immediate in arriving.  The local synagogue was not pleased to find some of its more well-to-do proselytes departing in preference for this new religion.  How should we see this?  Perhaps one could think of those events that beset a church leading to members departing for some other church, particularly when there’s been some difficulty leading up to it, what we tend to think of as a church split.  There is animosity towards that splinter group, isn’t there?  There’s a sense of betrayal.  And there may well be an ungodly desire to strike back somehow.  I suspect that is particularly true if the departures have included those whose financial support was significant, as would seem to have been the case here in Thessalonica.

The synagogue wasn’t going to give up these wealthy and useful converts without a fight.  Indeed, they no doubt saw this upstart sect as heretics.  That is, after all, our own propensity when we view fellow believers who differ with us on certain points.  And to be very clear, there are occasions where that is very much truly the case, where doctrinal differences are no longer minor matters of interpretive disagreement on matters not directly concerning the most central doctrines of Christ, of salvation, and such.  But there is something of an inherent risk here, isn’t there?  Where there is disagreement on these matters, somebody is assuredly wrong, although I’m not so sure we can insist that somebody is assuredly right.  The point, though, is that great care is needed, because it could very well be that the ones crying heretic the loudest are in fact the ones whose doctrines are missing the mark.

Case in point:  The synagogue in Thessalonica.  Christianity did not, certainly not at its earliest, intend to be a full-on departure from Judaism.  Jesus, as is often pointed out, was a Jew.  Paul was a Jew and a Pharisee to boot.  The Apostles, to a man, were deeply rooted in Judaism.  We might have to make some exception for Matthew, but I don’t know as we can be particularly certain of that.  The fact that he had been a tax-collector for Rome does not speak of the sort of devotion to God that others might have recognized, but neither does it require us to suppose he had no understanding of Torah or the Writings.  The view on tax-collectors, I think, had far more of politics to it than religious purity.  Granted, a tax-collector that abused his position for gain would have an issue with finding support in Moses.  But one who did his job fairly and honestly?  There is no inherent conflict here.  Yet, the general view of that tax-collector would still have placed him somewhat lower on the respect scale than Gentiles and dogs.

Back to my point, if I can.  That synagogue may have been motivated in large part by the wounds of lost prestige and advantage.  But I suspect there was also a motivation found in preserving doctrinal purity.  They could not receive the Word because the Word ran counter to what they recognized as received doctrine.  Face it.  If you’ve been taught for long decades that, “Thus sayeth the Lord,” and that being the case, thus and so must thou live your lives, to have someone come along and say, “No, wait!  You’ve got it wrong!” is not going to find instant welcome, is it?  It’s likely not going to find any welcome, and may well find a response typified by pitchforks and torches.  Away with this man!   And that’s more or less what was happening in Thessalonica.  The synagogue had been wounded, in their view, by this new teacher, and like any wounded animal, it struck back.  And it struck back hard.

Now, arguably, the nature of their response indicates motivations far more political than religious.  It would be hard to imagine one bent on defending the purity of his doctrine by rousting up the local ne’er-do-wells to mob the opposition.  These are not the tactics of piety.  Put it in perspective:  To observe the ways of, say, the BLM movement, or Antifa, or others of this sort, most of us would, I suspect, rapidly lose whatever sympathy we might feel for their cause because the tactics are so abhorrent.  To burn down your city to make a point is, shall we say, pointless, counter-productive, even.  But this synagogue up and mobbed the house where these upstart Christians were meeting, hauled them out forcibly, and dragged them before the city governors, leveling accusations of treason, of all things!  This was gaming the system, and no doubt about it.  This was hard-ball politics, not religious differences being sorted out.

And that, apparently, was only the beginning of their troubles.  Paul notes, later in this letter, that much like the church in Judea, they were facing trouble from their own countrymen (1Th 2:14).  Now, that could still refer to the Jews from the synagogue, I suppose, for these were not travelers encamped, but had been citizens of the city for some time.  But I think the distinction suggests something else, that this was trouble arising from the Greek portion of the populace in addition to those difficulties arising from the synagogue crowd.  And it wouldn’t be hard to see why this might come about.  The Jewish contingent had stirred up the crowds at the outset, and it’s questionable whether any in that mob truly cared one way or another about what these Christians were doing.  But the governor?  He had responsibility to Rome and Rome could be rather heavy-handed in response to the sorts of things being charged here.  Yes, they had ‘received a pledge’ from Jason and the others, but let’s understand what that meant.  They had extracted moneys.  It had nothing to do with these men swearing loyalty or some such.  It was more like posting bail.  Trial awaited.  And trial had no doubt come.  You can imagine, perhaps, the governor saying, “We’ll be keeping an eye on you lot.”

And it hadn’t stopped there, had it?  Locals would be aware of the issue.  It’s hard, after all, to miss a mob.  And, rather like those shopkeepers around the sites of riotous demonstrations the last few years, there’s going to be concern for how this impacts one’s bottom line.  Is my shop safe?  Is my life going to be disrupted by this business?  After all, if Rome comes down on us, they will make little enough distinction between active participant and innocent bystander.  So one can readily imagine societal pressures being brought to bear by channels both official and unofficial.  There may have been activities not so unlike the cancel-culture behaviors we see today, seeking to deprive these trouble-makers of a capacity to make a living, hoping maybe they could be driven out. 

And what was the response from these upstart Christians?  “You suffered much, but still you accepted the teaching with joy.”  That’s the reading the ERV gives here.  The NIV supplies, “You welcomed the message with the joy given by the Holy Spirit.”  Indeed!  But it’s more than just that joyous response at the reception.  I recall something of that at my own conversion.  The first communion celebrated after that retreat at which I can truly say I met God, came the evening of our return, and the sudden realness of this belief hit me like a freight-train.  He lives!  He lives!  My Jesus lives in me!  I may have sung that song many a time before, but it had been just a song.  Now it was a reality expressed, and joyous tears welled up.  This was real!  This wasn’t just going through the motions to maintain a happy home.  This was truth.

Had that been the end of it, I don’t know as I could have counted my experience a conversion.  It would have counted as merely an emotional response to an emotionally charged weekend.  It would pass as quickly as it came, and I would be found completely unchanged by it in short order.  But that’s not how it went.  No, I have not often experienced that sort of visceral response since, but the joy remains.  It comes not only of the Holy Spirit giving this faith.  It comes of His continued, indwelling presence.  “My Jesus lives in me.”  The Spirit of Christ, the Triune Godhead dwells in me.  Here is strength to persevere.  Here is such assured confidence as allows of joy even in the face of such trials and persecutions as faced this young church.  And bear in mind, they’re all of what, six months old in their faith?

But what was this word they had received?  To be sure, it had all the standard earmarks of Paul’s delivery of the message.  It had much of Christ, and Him crucified.  It also had much, clearly, of attention paid to His return.  Eternal life awaits, an eternity spent in blessedness, without the trials of this current life, without the temptations and the failures of sin.  But I tend to think Paul’s message also contained the words of our Lord.  We don’t find that stressed so very much in his letters, but perhaps that is simply because he was not eye-witness to these events in the same way as the other Apostles had been.  For all that, the letters we have from those other Apostles aren’t particularly long on quoting Jesus, either.  But the Gospel accounts are, and I find it plausible, at least, that those accounts formed a portion of Paul’s message as well.

And there, we find these early words from Jesus, delivered, according to Matthew, as part of the Sermon on the Mount, near the outset of His ministry.  “Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven.  Just so, they persecuted the prophets before you” (Mt 5:12).  The student is not going to be greater than his master.  If they hate Jesus, they will hate you.  That part of His preparation of His apostles also applies.  But hear the message in that!  Rejoice and be glad when they persecute you.  It’s testimony.  It’s evidence that you are indeed following your Lord, for so they have always treated His prophets.  This is not to suggest that every follower of Christ receives the prophetic gift.  But I do think it’s fair to say that every follower of Christ is a prophet, telling forth the Word of God, whether by the standard means of preaching and teaching, or by that form of preaching and teaching which comes about by the example of a Christian life lived out.

Let me tell you something.  This sort of joy, calm joy in the midst of trying times, makes an impact.  It gets the attention of those who are observing events, and I think that includes those who are causing such trying times.  When persecution only provokes calm acceptance, or even expressions of thanksgiving at being found worthy to so suffer for the Lord, it’s going to be noteworthy.  One thinks of that centurion who had charge of Jesus’ crucifixion.  When all was done, and they moved to speed the process to avoid riling the Jews unnecessarily, he was deeply impacted.  Jesus was already dead.  This sort of torture was designed to draw out the agony, to utterly humiliate and debase the one being punished, and yet to leave him in that punishment so long as it was possible, so as to discourage others who might think to replicate his crimes.  It was, in its own way, a foretaste of that eternal punishment which awaits the unrepentant at the end of the age.  Therein is an agony of punishment such as never ends, for their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched (Mk 9:48).  So, when Jesus was found to be dead already, it was significant.  “Truly, this man was the Son of God” (Mk 15:39).

And they killed Him.  His own killed Him.  And they saw it done by the most awful means available.  It hadn’t been enough to stone the prophets.  They had come for the Son, even as He had spoken in His parables.  This wasn’t some surprise to God, certainly.  It was all according to the plan and purpose of God, determined from before the beginning of Creation.  That does not in any way ameliorate the criminal outrage of its happening.

And this was the word brought to the Thessalonians.  Christ came to His own, and His own did not receive Him, but even put Him to death.  He taught that this would come about.  But death could not hold Him.  He is risen!  He reigns even now, seated forever on the throne of heaven, sovereign over every power, whether of man or of devil.  And you received this word with joy, joy given by the Holy Spirit.  And you have proved since to be such as Peter urged the church to be.  “Be ever ready to give account for the hope that is in you, with gentleness and reverence, to any who may ask” (1Pe 3:15).

I said this joy under pressure is noteworthy.  It is the very sort of thing that will in fact lead others to ask questions.  When all is falling apart around you, trouble on every side, and your response is one of calm, undisturbed joy, people notice.  People wonder.  How is it that these things which are so distressing me don’t seem to phase you?  Don’t you care?  That’s one response.  But more often, I think, it tends towards, “What’s your secret?”  Some might suppose we are stoned, not unlike the response to Peter’s Pentecost sermon.  Oh, he’s been drinking.  No.  This is not drunkenness.  This is joyful response.  In fact, it’s more, even, than that.  This is the joy of the indwelling Holy Spirit making Himself known through us.  Here, let me explain…

Joy under pressure is an incredible testimony to the indomitable Spirit of God indwelling.  It is the great prompter of questions, and thus, the great opportunity for the evangel.  You wonder at this?  Let me tell you of this glorious good news which has made me so glad, so joyful, and so confident and content even in the midst of, and in spite of these trials.  I count it all joy, dear sir, because I account the troubles of this present life to be as nothing when weighed against the assured glory of that inheritance stored away for me with my Lord and King, Jesus Messiah, in heaven.  What, indeed, can man do to me, when He is for me?  Might I die at your hands?  Assuredly, it is so, but it is nothing.  You may have it in your power to kill the body, but the soul, sir, lives on, and it lives on in this very Christ Jesus whose name upsets you so.  In Him we live, and move, and have our being, and even should you find cause to terminate this earthly life I live, yet shall I live – forever – together with Him.  You but speed me to my reward, and how shall I find that cause for sorrow?  To live is Christ.  To die is gain.   Either way, I win, because either way, He wins.

We may well be approaching a time when the Church of the West will again face troubles and persecutions as fierce as those faced in earliest days.  It may very well come to be a matter of life and death, when to confess the name of the Lord is to invite personal destruction.  But the Truth remains.  The Lord is with us, who can be against us?  Should such times come again to the Church, may we be found as our forebears, embracing the honor of being found worthy to suffer as did our Lord, so long as that suffering is indeed on account of our fealty to our Lord.

Father, I cannot pray that such times might come, but I most certainly pray that should they do so, You would indeed be our strength and our peace.  May it be said of us as it has been said of the martyrs throughout history, that we held faithful to You, and joyful to the end.  You, Lord, are my strength and my shield, my ever-present help in times of trouble.  This my soul knows very well.  I pray Thee, let it show, that You might be glorified in my steadfast joy.

The Image Made (04/24/22)

Returning again to the theme of this epistle, observe the power and the progress of this model by which Christ has chosen to expand His kingdom among men.  Paul notes that these became imitators of him and of the Lord.  Understand that you are seeing two progressive steps here.  In imitating Paul they became imitators of Christ because Paul was already an imitator of Christ.  He was one who could truly say (and did truly say), “Imitate me, as I also imitate Christ” (1Co 11:1).  But it doesn’t stop there, does it?  No.  “You became an example to all believers in Macedonia and Achaia, and beyond.”  Or, to take the Amplified Version’s presentation of it, “You thus became a pattern to all the believers.”

We want to figure out a program, some means by which to effectively spread the reach of the Gospel.  Well, here it is!  Be an example.  Live as you have believed.  Walk in that faith you possess by Christ.  Become, by your way of living, by your way of speaking, by your way of thinking, a model, a prototype, a visible sign of the invisible, inward Spirit of God in you.  This is, after all, your story.  You bear the imprint of the image of God.  This term Paul uses has the idea of a stamp or a die, something struck hard into the receiving material so as to leave an impression, a print of its own image.  With due respect, this is how the arrival of the Holy Spirit, imparting in the heart of us a readiness and ability to truly hear and thus truly receive God’s Word hits us.  He comes with force.  Oh, we want to talk of our gentlemanly God, Who never forces Himself upon anybody, but that’s not entirely accurate, is it?  No.  When God comes, it is with power, irresistible power.  Oh, we sign on willingly enough, as who wouldn’t when apprehending aright what God has said, what He has put on offer?  Here is life, and would you choose death?  Here is joy unspeakable, and would you choose misery?

Now, observe well that this requires more than merely knowing that God truly is God.  As James reminds us rather forcibly, the demons can say as much, but to them, this is news to make one cower (Jas 2:19).  No, to hear this Word as other than condemnatory, it must needs be that this hammer-blow of the Holy Spirit coming into residence has transpired.  The imprint has been made.  “I have called you by name.  You are Mine” (Isa 43:1b).  You are made now to be more fully, more truly in the image of God, a prototype, a living sign of the invisible God.  This being who you now are, you ought also to be a model for imitation.  You ought to be as Paul, in that quote I began with.  “Imitate me as I also imitate Christ.”  This should be our cry to the world, not merely to our fellow believer of a Sunday, but to those presently lost who may yet be found to have that same enormous privilege of hearing God call them by name.  “You are Mine.”

How do we imitate all these who have gone before?  How do we imitate this Christ we have not seen?  By taking the example of those who have come to know Him before us.  And nowhere is there more secure means of discovering and adhering to their ways than in holding fast to the traditions once for all delivered to the saints.  That is the other half of Paul’s word to Corinth, and to us.  Hold firmly to this truth.  Don’t chase after novelty and excitement.  Hold fast to the real thing, that which God has seen fit to reveal of Himself and of His intentions for those who bear His image.  He has spoken.  He has supplied to you everything that is needful for life and godliness, to go back to my just-finished study of 2Peter.  He has said what needs saying.  Now, live it.

I am being brief this morning, as the day began a bit later than usual, and Sundays, of all days, are most unyielding as to schedule for me.  So, let me bring this to an unusually speedy conclusion.  If God is truly at work in us, then there has been a transformation in us.  It’s not quite so visually dramatic as, say, the metamorphosis of caterpillar to butterfly, at least not yet.  But it is just as thorough.  Our nature has changed.  I suppose even of the butterfly we could suggest that the old man of the caterpillar yet remains within, else we would be observing not a repeatable metamorphosis, but an evolutionary change.  So, recognize this:  This change is not evolutionary.  It is indeed a metamorphosis, and as such, it is repeatable.  As you were brought to this transformation, so you can become the genesis, if you will, of just such a transformation in others.  How?  By living in imitation of your Lord and Savior, and thereby making His very real presence known and felt.

I know I have opted to suggest the Holy Spirit as that hammer which leaves the imprint, but perhaps it would be better to suggest Him as the arm that swings the hammer.  You, dear one, are the hammer, the die which will leave its imprint on those struck by your joyful grace under pressure.  If God is at work in you, His transformative impact will be notably evident.  People are going to notice.  If that’s not what they’re noticing in you, I dare say something’s terribly wrong, and you had best pray God would fix it.  But if you are truly walking in that manner of word and habit commended to you by the Word of God, which is to say by that very Christ we are called to imitate, but also to say, as He has seen fit to preserve His testimony in these pages of Holy Scripture (for dreams and visions can lie, lest we come to think too highly of that sort of input); if, then, this defines your walk, you will make an impression.  If your words reflect this Gospel you have received, then can it be otherwise than that they proclaim that Gospel? 

“The word of the Lord has sounded forth from you,” and in such a way that, “in every place your faith toward God has gone forth.”  I’ve noted already that this is not necessary suggesting some great missionary outflow with feet on the ground, planting churches alongside Paul.  In point of fact, if this were the case, one would think there might be much greater notice of it.  It would be truly significant, wouldn’t it?  And also highly unlikely, given so brief a span of time.  Yes, these churches planted others.  We have some evidence of that in Asia Minor, certainly.  But that would seem to have come of a much longer period, a much longer engagement and development in faith.

But all that being said, what are we to say for ourselves if in fact this transformative work in us is not evident to those around us?  I am not supposed to end these things on a down note, but time, as I say, is short this morning, and the point needs to be made.  It needs to register, to leave its own mark.  So, let me get to it.  If our lives are not such living examples, such models to be imitated, as Paul commends in the Thessalonians, how is that anything other than sin in us?  How could it be otherwise, for by our example, we deny the Lord who bought us, if this is our story.  This isn’t our story.  But if we insist in keeping our light under a bushel, as Jesus described it, or if your salt has lost its flavor, what use is it?  What use His transformative work in you if you just walk off satisfied with your future security?  Indeed, if that’s your response, I must most forcibly insist there has been no transformative work, only an emotional response to well-turned words.  There’s perhaps been an impression made, but not deep, not lasting.  The image hasn’t taken if the image can’t be seen. 

That’s hard to hear, and all the harder to say because I could readily apply the issue to myself.  But as I say, it needs to be said.  It needs to be heard.  It needs, if it hits home, to be repented of, that the full and worthy image of Christ may form in us, may form in me.

Father, may it be so.  I know that I know that You have indeed called me by name, but I also know that I know that I have been, particularly of late, less than worthy of imitation in my following of Your Son, my Lord and Savior.  Let this stop.  Let this change today, that I may be more fully and irrevocably Yours, not only in the quiet place of knowledge, but in the visible, consistent place of example lived.

Evidence (04/25/22-04/26/22)

It seems I have collected a few different thoughts to pursue under this last head of ‘Evidence’.  Before we get to the direct matter of evidence, though, there is one syntactical question I should like to attempt to address.  It concerns what we might consider the middle clause of this sentence, for I see a bit of variety as to how it is treated in translation.  The HCSB, on the one hand, supplies us with, “in every place that your faith in God has gone out”.  But the RSV gives us, “but your faith in God has gone forth everywhere”.  That may not really show the distinction that clearly.  Try the Goodspeed translation.  “But the story of your belief in God has gone everywhere.”  That shows a clear divergence of perspective, I think.

Those first two suggest in one way or another that there has been something of a physical nature transpiring.  “Your faith has gone out.”  It could just be my own hearing, but that sounds more like the typical idea of an evangelistic mission trip, doesn’t it?  It’s not as if your faith was going off without you.  Now, it could be that those who visited Thessalonica were so moved by the Christians there that even with so brief a contact, they, too, came to believe.  But then it wouldn’t be ‘your faith’ anymore, would it?  It would be theirs.  I don’t think that idea fits the statement.

So, my initial question is whether the ‘that’ which the HCSB injects is justified.  Alternately phrased, should the absence of ‘that’ lead us to supply a comma, as a modern syntax checker would insist we do?  Well!  I don’t really want to dive head-on into the matter, but perhaps I’d best at least have a go at it.  “From you sounded forth the word of the Lord.”  There’s the first bit in its Greek order.  Note the emphasis placed on ‘from you’, by pushing it to the front of the sentence.  The word has received the action of sounding out, and that word is specific:  it is that word which is ‘of the Lord’.  From whence has it received this action?  We might well propose ‘from you’, is the emphasized source of action.

Thus far we have the main subject and verb, ‘the word sounded out’, and a pair of genitive clauses, typically showing possession, which certainly applies for ‘of the Lord’, but here, also has application to ‘from you’.  It is that word which originates from the Lord, and which has been propagated from you.

I’m going to jump forward just a bit, because we have another nominative clause in view.  “The faith you’re the toward the God is spread abroad.”  Forgive that wooden presentation of word order, but so it is written, at least in a properly ordered KJV view.  We would tend to drop all the articles, right?  So, “Faith your to Godward is spread abroad.”  Here, the nominative clause consists of “faith is spread abroad.”  And we have the genitive observation that it is specifically your faith.  But then we have the accusative ‘to Godward’.  Nothing terribly exciting in that.  It presents us with the direct object of the action.  Isn’t that something?

If I take the elementary example of a sentence such as, “I threw the ball to Joe,” it’s easy enough to see this.  “I threw,” is the nominative clause.  “The ball,” is the direct object, the accusative clause.  It is what was thrown.  And then, of course, we would have the dative of, “to Joe,” he who receive said ball once thrown.  Play that thought back into our verse, and we have faith spread abroad to Godward.  That has the look of being in the dative, doesn’t it?  But it isn’t.  It’s in the accusative.  God is the direct object of faith.  You know, put it that way and it seems downright doctrinal, doesn’t it?  Of course!  God is the direct and only proper object of faith.

But if that is our direct object, where is the Dative?  It’s in this:  “In every place.”  That is, unless we take, “in every place,” as continuing the dative clause begun with “in Macedonia and Achaia.”  And indeed, the connective tissue of the verse does present these three datives as a continuing series. “Not only in Macedonia and Achaia, but in every place.”  So, I think we must find our two nominative clauses presenting something of a parallelism.  “The word sounded out, and your faith is spread abroad.”  These are two facets of the same enterprise.  And likewise, we might suggest the genitive clause of ‘of the Lord’, parallels the accusative ‘to Godward’.  Faith and the word go hand in hand.  Where faith spreads, the word goes forth.  These are as congenital twins, so closely joined together as to be utterly inseparable.  The one cannot transpire but that the other does as well.

So, let me suggest this much.  Where the HCSB has injected ‘that’, I don’t think it’s called for in translation, no.  The progression is, rather akin to Jesus’ instruction to the disciples, the local (Macedonia), the regional (Achaia), and the global (every place).  From Jerusalem, to Judea and Samaria, and even to the remotest parts of the earth (Ac 1:8).  And we might recall how that would transpire in His original implementation and instruction.  “You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you shall be My witnesses.”  How?  Manifold ways.  For some, being witnesses meant largely remaining in Jerusalem.  Not everybody went out.  Some stayed.  And, where those did go out, there would be those places where they remained to see the work of planting properly established.  Even with Paul, the general tendency is to take a good few years to see the church properly established and equipped to continue on before his departure.  Only the exigencies of circumstance made him do otherwise, and even then, it was out of concern for the fledgling church rather than for his own safety.  But to keep somewhere near to on point, nothing here suggests a narrowing of scope is intended to apply to ‘every place’.  ‘Your faith’ is not given as a genitive, but rather a nominative clause.  

So, the secondary question might concern those translations such as the Godspeed which supply the idea that it was ‘word of your faith’.  This, too, is an injection of wording that simply is not there.  As such, it is rather necessarily an ingressive, eisegetical interpretation.  Whether or not it is justified is a different matter.  Given the context of time and place, I think it is.  It just doesn’t seem that likely that opportunity had presented which would allow this young church to have sent off missionaries to scatter across the globe in such short order, and with such a degree of success that news of it had already resounded in such fashion that Paul found their efforts were well known in those places he had been since leaving.  Not that there were that many places he had been, really; just Athens and Corinth, but still:  It’s asking a lot to suppose this little church had been able to achieve results of that nature so quickly.  It’s also hard not to believe that, had this been the case, Paul would be speaking more directly of those efforts.  But that is not something that can be stated with certainty, only with the conviction of opinion.

So, let us leave it as this:  From you the word of the Lord has sounded forth, your faith in God going forth into Macedonia, Achaia, and every place.  Let’s look to the verbs very briefly.  Word has gone forth.  In its basic sense, we can say news of your faith is being generally reported.  This act of ringing out or being reported is presented in the passive voice.  The subject, ‘word’ is receiving the action of being reported.  The active verb is that parallel idea of going forth, arising from, diffusing, emanating, and there, the subject which performs the action is faith.  Again:  The two are inseparable.  Where faith is found, it is evident, and that evidence gives rise to report.  What is reported?  Your manifest evidence that this word in which you believe, of this God in whom you have faith, is indeed of the Lord.  Its powerful origin is shown in its powerful effect, that impress upon you of which I spoke earlier.

And there it is!  The power of witness, the witness of evidence.  Faith is evident.  Faith preaches even when you don’t.  That’s going to bother some.  But as necessary and needful as gospel preaching is, its aim is primarily that of equipping the saints, isn’t it?  Yes, the power of God is present in His word, and is exercised when His word is spoken and explained.  But the power is made evident when those who bear the word of God live the word of God.  It is the power of manifesting the power of God, not in showy display of signs and wonders.  There’s a place for that, yes, but it’s not the chief place.  No, the chief place is given to walking the walk of the transformed life.  I’ve probably looked at it already, but in later years, Paul would encourage Timothy in his own ministry.  “Preach the word!  Be ready in season and out.  Reprove, rebuke, exhort, all with great patience and instruction” (2Ti 4:2).  I think maybe we have need of seeing the twofold aspect of that instruction.  Certainly, those specifics Paul lists apply to the pastor shepherding his flock.  That is to say, they are the work of the minister amongst the body of Christ in that local form in which he serves.  But I think that ‘in season and out’ at least hints at ministering in a more evangelical sense, of bearing the Gospel before those who don’t as yet believe.  There, I don’t know as sermons are going to do the job.  I mean, at some level, yes.  You cannot bring one to saving knowledge without supplying them with understanding of that which you would have them know, can you?  Example alone is not going to get that done.  It can lead to questions, but it cannot in itself supply the answers.

But let me propose a corollary.  The answer is of no use if questions haven’t been asked.  Where there is nothing to distinguish us from the unbeliever, what cause is there to ask?  Who is going to look at somebody who lives and acts just as they do, and wonder, ‘why do you act this way?’  If you are largely unknown to your neighbors or coworkers, what basis is there for curiosity?  If you share their foibles, who is going to be bothered with wondering why you live the way you do?  They do the same.

But let that life you live be lived in demonstrable obedience to this Lord you have received and things are going to be different, aren’t they?  Integrity, if nothing else, will tend to stand out in a corrupt landscape.  That calm joy under pressure, which we noted at the beginning of this study will stand out.  The one who keeps his head in crisis will attract attention.  But any general could hopefully manage that much, else he ought not to be a general, and won’t be for long should conflict arise.  But the one who not only keeps his head but keeps his joy, his contentment when all hell is breaking loose?  The one who responds to oppression and persecution with blessing rather than cursing?  Yeah, that’s going to raise eyebrows.  That’s going to lead to questions sooner or later.  And then, the Gospel goes forth.  Then, the word having been preached out of season by your example, the season has come for explanation, for patient instruction.  Then, the ground has been prepared to receive the seed of faith to good effect.  Is it guaranteed?  Only where God has so chosen.  But it is the seasonable working of His word, isn’t it?

What I take from this is as I set it in my attempt at paraphrasing Paul’s message:  Everywhere news of your faith in God goes, the Gospel goes as well.  And in regards to Thessalonica, Paul’s great note of praise here is just this:  Everybody knows.  That news has gone forth.  Paul doesn’t need to advertise his success among them as he moves on through Achaia.  His success has already been advertised.  It has been advertised not by acclimations of the man coming out of Thessalonica, but rather, by reports of lives transformed, of joy under pressure, of indomitable faith in the risen Lord, Jesus Christ.  That pastor is not the point.  The Lord Jesus is the point.  It is word of Him, His word, that resounds.  It is faith in Him, being from Him, that so transforms, that so empowers the believer to walk righteous in the midst of an unrighteous world.

But again I must turn to the obverse.  What does it say of us if in fact our faith is unknown to those who know us most?  What does it say if our Christian identity remains parked in the pew when we head out into the rest of our week?  I dare say it doesn’t say anything good.  Can it be said of us that everybody knows, that word of our faith has gone forth?  And not just word, but reported example.  The bare word becomes just another philosophy, or another religion.  And in that time and place, it would have been one among many, rather as it has become in our day.  Do they know?  Is it obvious?  I’m talking something more than popping a cross out by the roadside, or putting a fish magnet on the rear bumper.  Honestly, more often than not I tend to notice those magnets more for the fact that whoever is driving the vehicle is just as flagrant in violating the laws of the road as anybody else, and sometimes worse.  That’s not the sort of ‘everybody knows’ that’s going to spread the Gospel.  That’s the sort of ‘everybody suspects’ which convinces the world that this Gospel is no more than a set of ideas to which you pay lip service.  It comes across as a graft, a con, something for the rubes, anything but what it truly is:  The word of God.

We need to learn from this little church up in Thessalonica.  We need to learn the power of living the gospel, rather than just studying it.  Our preaching, if not accompanied by so changed a life as evidences its powerful, truly transformative impact upon us personally, will fall on deaf ears.  It’s just another advertisement, and we become rather adept, I think, at tuning out advertising.  We must in this day and age, musn’t we?  It’s everywhere.  Even our tools spout advertisements at us through the day.  Receiving just one more is hardly something that leads us to pay attention.

Now, I don’t think the Thessalonians were out there accosting passers-by, standing on the street corners shouting out demands for repentance.  I’m about positive they weren’t passing out tracts or requesting participation in a survey.  They were living their lives, going about their employments, doing their shopping, just as before.  But there were changes, and some of those changes would have been obvious.  Simple examples:  They would have previously been off to this temple or that, whether out of any real devotion to the idols within, or merely for the sport of it.  No more.  They would have enjoyed the pleasures on offer in your average port city; the drinking, the ribaldry, and so on.  No more.  They would have been seeking advantage in every trade in the marketplace, whether by selling at greater profit, or buying at lower cost.  No more.

Of course, those who knew them best would know the cause.  This would hold particularly true for those who had departed the synagogue and the life of the proselyte to become part of this new faith.  I can hardly suppose, though, that this was giving rise to so positive a report of their faith, though it no doubt led to reports of their desertion.  Persecution had come, not just from the Jews but from others in the city.  They knew, and they didn’t like what they knew.  But as they sought to bring down this new faith, they discovered bedrock.  However much they caused trouble for these believers, yet they believed, and yet they responded not in angry retribution, but in peaceable, even joyful response.  How could this be? Where was that rather famously hot temper of the Mediterranean?  Something had certainly changed, and it had changed in a fashion that seemingly could not be provoked.  And news got out.  And where news got out, questions came in.  And where questions came in, opportunity presented.  And where opportunity presented, the Gospel could be delivered.  Very organic, this.

And location was everything, wasn’t it?  It’s hard not to see the genius of God’s plan in the places he sent Paul.  And I must insist, it’s not Paul’s genius on display.  He is not the master strategist, determining to spend time in this place rather than that.  He is guided, a guided missile of faith, launched by God and directed by God.  You want to go to Asia?  But no, Paul, that’s not your assignment.  Go to Macedonia.  Plant in the Roman enclave in Philippi, yes, but also in the port city and capital there in Thessalonica.  You have both highway and waterway to carry word forth from these churches.  Their impact can far outstrip their size, their membership.  They needn’t travel far and wide as you do.  Word of their redeemed lives will travel without them, preparing the land before you.

Ephesus, Thessalonica, Corinth:  It was a similar story for each of these.  They were hub cities on the regional transportation lines.  Everybody passed through.  Everybody would hear.  And what everybody heard and saw would be noised abroad.  It’s rather like those weeds that simply put out their seedheads and wait for passing animals to catch the seeds in their fur and give them a free ride to their new location.  So the Gospel caught, as it were, on the furry curiosity of those who passed through town, and they bore it to the next port, and the next, reaching all the way back into Rome itself, and even beyond.

“Wherever we go, we find people telling us about your remarkable faith in God.  We don’t need to tell them about it.”  That’s the TLB presentation of our passage.  People are telling us about you.  Again:  Can that be said in our case?  I fear not.  Oh, there may be a few here and there.  And I do know, at least in our little body here, there are those who indeed live their faith unabashedly.  It doesn’t mean proselytizing.  It doesn’t mean clever posters on the office wall, or the Bible surreptitiously left sitting on the desk as advertisement.  It means being available.  It means offering to pray for those who come to you with their troubles.  It means dealing honestly.  It means refusing to participate in some of the usual office nonsense.  It means, fundamentally, not hiding.  There’s a vast difference between being in your face and simply not hiding.  Can we manage that much?  I would like to think so.  Of course, that’s easy for me to say, as I work out of my house and rarely interact with others in anything but the most superficial of ways.  But when opportunity arises, I must learn how to quietly make use of it.  If I am His, it ought to show.  It’s not something to get worked up about.  But it is something to pray about.

One last thought I would add to this study.  What we see in Thessalonica, or in Macedonia more generally, is not an isolated case.  It’s the common testimony of the church wherever it is truly the church.  Consider that letter Paul wrote to Rome some years later.  Look at his greeting to that assembly, one which had taken root quite apart from any direct involvement from him, so far as we know, and what do we find?  “I thank God through Jesus Christ for you all, because your faith is proclaimed throughout the world” (Ro 1:8).  News travels!  Faith isn’t hidden away, it’s known.  It may not be going out of its way to be noticed by the authorities, but to the general populace?  Yeh.  They knew.  And they spoke of what they knew. 

I could accept that Paul here is talking primarily about such Christians as had cause to travel around the region.  It might be more of a church-to-church communication, than general talk-of-the-town stuff between sailors.  But news was spreading, and the news was of faith established.  “The report of your obedience has reached everyone, so I rejoice over you.  That said, be wise as to what is good, and innocent as to what is evil” (Ro 16:19).  He ends as he began, taking notice of true faith, faith established and operative in transformed lives.

Father, I want very much that this should be my testimony as well, and yes, the testimony of those brothers and sisters amongst whom You have placed me.  I want this to be the testimony of my wife, my children.  At minimum, I should like to think my children might testify of unmistakable faith in me and my wife alike.  But I fear that is not the testimony we would hear.  And I would that it were otherwise.  I would that there was less of the fanatical fantasyland stuff on the one hand, and less of the stealth-believer on the other.  I would that in both cases, whatever our foibles, Your transformative work would be evident, not by demands to be heard on the subject, but by the unmistakable evidence of habit and character that demonstrate that here is something out of the ordinary, something other than the usual way of the world.  Here is something better, infinitely better.  Here is God’s own handiwork on display in these two.  May this indeed by our testimony and our witness to Your transformative work in us.  May the Spirit so infuse and inform us that we live in obedience to Your word, wise as to the good, innocent as to evil.  And may that, by Your grace and power, serve to spread Your Gospel to those who know us, however casually, that they, too, may be transformed, redeemed, and counted among Your elect.