New Thoughts: (09/29/22-10/04/22)
The Example Set (09/30/22)
Our passage begins with the observation, “You
also became imitators of us.” This connects us quite firmly
to what he had just written, as to how they well knew the example had
been set by Paul and his team. “You know what kind
of men we proved to be among you for your sake” (1Th
1:5). There had been no need to separate out the truth of
the words from the falsity of their character. Indeed, their whole
manner of life reflected a real and full-throated commitment to the
truth of what they spoke, and to the divine origins of that truth.
Clearly, these men believed what they taught to be the very
instruction of God. What went forth from them, not to get too far
ahead of myself, was the word of the Lord. But that could only go
forth because what had come to them, by the instrumental means of the
Apostle, was that same word of the Lord.
Paul was indeed an instrumental means, an instrument crafted for this
purpose by God, and played by God’s hands. I wrote elsewhere that
Paul was as a guided missile of faith, launched and directed by God
Himself, and that can certainly be seen by his having come to minister
in Macedonia in the first place. We know the story. He had thought
to continue his work in Asia Minor, but God had other ideas. Paul
would have turned inland, to more familiar regions, but with less
impact. God sent him to the main port cities, rendering his ministry
there fruitful in the power of the Holy Spirit, because here were
places where small beginnings could bear copious fruit.
But observe how this happens, because it is a template which really
hasn’t changed any over the years. Ironside writes, “It
was what these converts had seen in Paul and his companions that had
led them to be interested in the things of the Lord.” They
saw something different in these men, a firm commitment to something
much greater, much holier, than was to be found in their own society,
in their own history, illustrious though it was. Thessalonica, and
Macedonia more generally, had much to be proud of, so far as worldly
measures go. By most measures, they were a resounding success. They
were prosperous, relatively self-ruled even under Rome’s oversight.
They commanded the respect of their neighbors in the region, and they
were turning a tidy profit in their trade. They were something of a
powerhouse in the region. But here, in Paul, in Silas, in Timothy,
was something of greater worth.
But that greater worth would go unrecognized were it not for the fact
that they lived what they believed. Now, let it be accepted that many
a philosopher or a student of philosophy had set themselves to live
out their beliefs before, and many have done so since. They have done
so with varying degrees of success. And it must be said as well, that
Christians in our turn, have likewise lived out our beliefs with
varying degrees of success, which is to say, with varying degrees of
fidelity. But God had so showered grace upon these men that it seems
they were all but faultless in their consistency of habit and word.
What they preached, they believed, and what they believed, they lived.
This is what sets the example. Indeed, this is what sets the stage
for the gospel to gain a hearing in the first place. Mind you, there
would need to be hearing of the gospel in some degree for the example
to be recognized for what it is. But were the example not there, the
words would be brushed off in short order. That is a large part of
our issue at present, if I may say so. Perhaps I should say the issue
is twofold – at least twofold. For one, we are not as inclined as we
should be to speak of our faith to those who do not share it, and
where we do, it is often in the nature of the cold-call salesman.
Those to whom we would speak of God have no prior acquaintance with
us, no measure of the man, as it were, by which to assess how firmly
we hold these truths we now proclaim as self-evident.
That is already a problem, and it’s one that Paul and company
assuredly faced in coming to places like this. What did anybody in
Thessalonica know of them, apart from those reports brought perhaps
from Philippi by those from the Jewish community who sought only to
thwart any advance by this new sect? Whatever news may have come was
unlikely to have been particularly positive. There would be some
positive reports, I suppose, but most of it seems, if we take the
example of those who dragged Jason and company before the magistrates,
spoke of the turmoil this new religion was causing, and very little
pertained to any positive effects.
But Paul didn’t let it remain that way. He and his partners lived
before those to whom they preached. They made themselves
available, and that, without limits, so far as I can see. It reminds
me of that book I often note, with its comments on the life of the
missionary. “You Have No Rights”. Your
life has become an open book. The doors of your home are open at all
hours, and those to whom you would minister will walk through those
doors, look through your windows, at any hour. You are, as it were,
under the microscope, and every aspect of your habit, your lifestyle,
your interactions with those who might, in other situations, be
accounted annoyances, is being measured, weighed, held up in
comparison to the message you bring. Do they correspond? Does he
really believe this message he’s telling us? If this is from God, as
he claims it is, surely he who would insist we take it seriously must
demonstrably take it seriously himself. And it surely did.
As Matthew Henry notes, to observe them was to witness consistency of
message and habit. Yes, they truly believed. Yes, the lived what
they preached. And that, friends, prepares the way for the Gospel as
nothing but God can. Be it granted that the best and most consistent
of examples, combined with the clearest and most compelling speech,
can in itself avail nothing except God has chosen to accompany that
message in the power of the Holy Spirit, and still it must be
recognized that where there is no consistent example, His power is
most unlikely to be supplied. Indeed, that inconsistent example gives
reasonable cause to question whether God is truly in their message at
all, doesn’t it? They may speak truly, and yet, be held utterly
suspect because if this was God’s message, would He not deliver it by
more faithful messengers?
The example of the messenger is thus critical to the reception of his
message, especially where that message is of such claimed
significance. Would you accept that the one knocking on your door,
claiming to bear official notice from the governor or president, was
indeed his spokesman simply on his or her say-so? More fool you, if
you would! Would you accept that claim if the one before you is in
disarray, unwashed and unshaven? I rather doubt it. Would you accept
his message if it insisted on some action that was clearly unlawful,
and at odds with the governing principles of your state or country? I
should hope not. You would have every reason to find this messenger
suspect, and at minimum, send him packing, if not reporting him to the
authorities. We need only to think of the sundry reports one reads of
somebody posing as a police officer so as to gain access by which to
commit their crimes. No, there are proofs one expects, both in form
of identifying proofs of position, and of a demeaner in keeping with
the claimed position of authority.
The same holds with those who would claim to bring word of God, and
especially, as was the case in this region, amongst a people replete
with any number of gods already. Really? You say yours is the real
one, the Only One? That’s quite a claim. What’ve you got to back
it? I mean, we’ve this god and that. Rome has their own set, and so
does pretty much every foreigner who wanders through. We don’t pay
them that much heed, other than to accept that they are welcome to
their gods, and we shall keep with ours, thanks. Why should you be
any different? But the claims were great because the reality of God’s
own Truth is great. And, because the stakes were so high, God took
great pains to ensure the consistency of his messenger. What they saw
in Paul, Silas, and Timothy gave clear evidence that this God of whom
they spoke was truly with them, His impact, His grace, clearly to be
seen in how they dealt with people, how they maintained themselves,
how they graciously responded, even when seriously put upon and
persecuted.
It is so much easier to believe when we don’t find it necessary to
weed out truth from false example. We might still glean something
from a preacher whose life is less consistent, but we shall know the
constant need to test, to sift, to keep the meat, but throw the
bones. We must listen critically, and that is ever the case, but
there comes a point where critical listening becomes cynical
listening, not the praiseworthy attentiveness of the Berean, going
home to study his scriptures and affirm the veracity of the message,
but rather seeking the mistakes, emphasizing the errors, and along the
way, completely losing sight of any truth that may have been
imparted. Oh, yes. It’s far easier to build when we don’t need to
first tear down and clear away. It’s true in our own lives, but then,
there is almost never a case where we will be building on clear ground
at the outset, nor even after years of life as a believers. We have
too much garbage built up on our plot. But it’s equally true as
regards applying that which is supplied to us in the ordinary grace of
preaching. If we have to constantly assay, disassemble, sort truth
from falsity, it’s too much work, and we will likely lose interest in
bothering in short order. Who needs it? I can get that exercise
listening to the news.
But that’s not what had happened here. To observe Paul and his
companions was to witness consistency of message and habit. They had
seen this. They knew that the one was in perfect accord with the
other. And that was impressive indeed. It made an impression, not
all that unlike the impression made by the hammer as it seeks to
implant in wood or clay or stone the mark of some stamped pattern.
The impression of their example was having the impact of a mold, a
formwork, shaping those to whom they ministered into like image and
character. And those to whom they ministered indeed took the example
of the Apostle to heart, and sought to shape their lives in like
fashion, that they, too, might demonstrate their belief by their
lives.
Is this not what we should expect? Is it not what we should expect
of ourselves, first and foremost? If we have been discipled, surely,
we have been brought near that place of observing, ‘all
that I commanded you’ (Mt 28:20).
Surely, this Gospel has been more to us than mere words to nod at on a
Sunday, but have indeed gone deep in us, taken hold of us, and
refashioned who we are. This Gospel is, after all, the power of God
for all who believe (Ro 1:16). It is the
chosen vehicle of God’s grace, and where His grace has sent forth in
His Spirit to prepare hearts to receive, He will assuredly so work as
to truly renovate and reform the one to whom He has come, such that
this one may, like those before him, become living temples of God Most
High (2Co 6:16).
If this is not our story, let us pray that it may swiftly be so. Let
us give every prayer, every thought, every effort to seeing to it that
those who see us see an example that makes an impression, not for
grandiosity, but for true piety.
The Example Followed (10/01/22-10/02/22)
I should think it almost goes without saying that however fine an
example one is set, it does you no good if you don’t in fact follow
that example. Put differently, the best preaching, delivered by the
most faithful of preachers, will be of no value to us unless we take
what has been taught and make it our rule of life. The Gospel, as we
have been considering in the previous study, is the power of God to
save, but where it is not received as such, that same message is no
more than mere words. There was a reason for Paul’s excitement at
their response, then, and that is that their response demonstrated
clearly that God had indeed empowered His gospel. The message was
received, and received, as he will say to them shortly, for what it
truly is: The very word of God (1Th 2:13).
This is evident, as he now observes, because they are quite clearly
following the example set them not only in the preaching of Paul and
company, but by their example, by their lives lived in accordance with
their own teaching. These Thessalonians, as Matthew Henry observes,
had received the imprint of the Apostolic teaching, and now they
impressed it in turn upon others. We shall have opportunity further
on in this current study, to consider just how they were doing so, but
here, let us satisfy ourselves with the fact that they were, and to
note that one of the chief aspects that so made an impression was this
most thorough response to the teaching they had received. Theirs was
an obedience born of reverence, and not reverence for Paul, though
they esteemed him most highly, as well they should. No, it was
reverence for this Christ, this Son of God of whom Paul had informed
them. It was reverence for the Father, whose love, whose mercy, whose
graciousness towards them had been made known through the Gospel Paul
so faithfully delivered.
Paul’s faithful delivery of this Gospel came in far more than words,
far more, even, than preaching accompanied by the confirming power of
the Holy Spirit. And here is a lesson for us, as well. Faithful
delivery of the Gospel includes the example set by our own lives.
This is what made an impression on them, rendering them (alongside the
working of the Spirit within them) receptive to hearing what these
strangers had to say. This is what made their impression so
significant on those who encountered them, that they would speak of it
in other places to which they traveled. These people aren’t just
mouthing pieties. They aren’t just playing intellectual games with
some novel ideas. They are different. They have an entirely
different perspective, an entirely different lease on life. They are
honest and earnest. They are not merely calm under pressure, but
irrepressibly joyful – another thing we shall get to in its turn.
Here is the thing for us: Our efforts to speak of Christ, to share
this gospel, will be most effectual where our lives are seen to be
aligned with what we say. If we come across as just one more
insisting that others, “do as I say, not as I do,”
then we will receive no more of a hearing than such kinds of
instruction generally do, which is to say none at all. I cannot help
but think of the behaviors we have seen around here in regard to the
small influx of illegal aliens sent our way from Florida. Here
(whatever I may think of the matter personally) is a state which has
proudly proclaimed their status as a ‘sanctuary’
state, which is to say a state that has opted for ignoring certain
federal laws in regard to these very illegal aliens. It’s a bizarre
stance for those who are ostensibly the upholders of law and order,
but there it is. But it’s not just them. There is a large portion of
the populace who happily express similar sentiments about how hate has
no home here, all are welcome, etc. But then comes the time for
slogans and sentimentalism to face the test of cold reality, and what
is seen? The words were empty. The responses may come with pleasant
faces and cheerful waves of the hand – especially for the camera – but
the ostensibly charitable welcome turns out not to include the
immediate vicinity. No, no. Send them elsewhere. Let the State take
care of them. We can’t. And as always, actions speak ever so much
louder than words.
But before we find it in ourselves to laugh too much at their
discomfort and dishonest posturing exposed, let us consider
ourselves. We, after all, declare something far more significant than
those virtue-signaling yard signs. We declare truths much higher than
the latest thing by which to express our being on the right team.
Indeed, if we are being faithful in proclaiming the Gospel which we
received, we are very much declaring to many of these same folks that
we are very much on the wrong team. This is how a world in darkness
receives the Light. They don’t. They will react violently against
the Light, because light must expose their darkness, and that would
never do, and it must surely be even more true in this present climate
where signaling one’s virtuous opinions (as long as there’s no cost
involved) is all the rage.
Thessalonian Christians knew the deal. They had seen it in Paul
before ever they discovered the same response to their own newfound
faith. Paul came to them beaten and bloodied by the opposition that
had arisen in Philippi. This wasn’t lost on those who now met him in
Thessalonica. To be sure, they had cleaned up before presenting
themselves. They weren’t appearing at synagogue in torn robes and
blood-crusted faces. For one, that would never do. For another, it
wasn’t to the purpose. But neither did they disguise what had been
their treatment in that city, nor could they, for such was the hatred
for this Christian faith that those who opposed it so vehemently there
would surely have sent their own runners to the city to inform the
local populace of events, just as the Thessalonian synagogue sent
others to trouble the ministry when it moved to Berea. It’s not
enough for the world that it should simply reject or ignore the
gospel. It must oppose the gospel, and do so with a vengeance. This
has not changed, and don’t be fooled into thinking it has.
This may, in fact, be a large part of the challenge faced by the
Church at present, that we were lulled into believing ourselves a
majority stake. We believed, and not without some evidence, that the
Church had so impacted the society of the West as to be almost a
given. But it never was so. Our kingdom is not of this world, not as
she stands. We are never a kingdom established here, but an embassy
of the kingdom that is established and will, in due
time, be established in full here as in heaven. And so long as this
remains the case, we have this calling: By the way you live your
lives, by the way you speak – whether to friend or to stranger or to
enemy, by the way you think, by every expression given your inmost
character, whether in word or in deed, become a visible model of the
invisible, inward Spirit of God which is in you.
The Spirit, having come, bears witness of Christ, and He does so in
our inner chambers of thought and conscience. And we, too, bear
witness, as we must, because we have been with Him (Jn
15:26-27). We cannot say that we have been with Him from the
beginning. But then, neither could Paul and his team. But there is
something more universal here. You have been with Him. Indeed,
Christian, He is in you, now and forever. His presence must
make an impression, and that impression must show
in outward, visible fashion. How could it not? The fruit of the
Spirit, as I have often observed, following that teaching which we are
given in Scripture, must surely grow where the seed of the Spirit
indwelling has in fact been planted. How could it not?
As concerns these Thessalonians, the message is clear. There was no
doubt as to the reality of their conversion. That reality was very
much evident in them. None could encounter them and fail to notice.
Now, at present, Paul is observing their impact on other believers. “You became an example [or examples] to all
the believers in Macedonia and Achaia.” I could
suggest that this limiting of scope to those regions has more to do
with Paul’s limited travels since having had to leave them than with
the reach their example was having. But this reverent obedience – not
to Paul, but to Christ through Paul’s
example – made an impression. It was particularly recognizable by
their fellow believers, who most fully understood the reason
for their exemplary obedience, who took it as something of an
amiable challenge in regard to their own response to Christ.
Is this not what we are intended to be doing for one another? Peter
wrote to stir up his readers (2Pe 1:13, 2Pe 3:1) by reminding them of the depths and
the power of this faith into which they had come. Paul would comment,
as concerns the Corinthian church, how their example, their zeal, had
stirred other churches to respond in like fashion to the appeal that
had gone out regarding the contribution to support the suffering
church in Jerusalem (2Co 9:2). Indeed, in
giving corrective instruction to that Corinthian church earlier, he
had made plain that one of our chief duties in the service of worship,
apart from shared reverence to God, is this: “Let
all things be done for edification” (1Co
14:26). And I should have to insist that this mindset should
persist outside the church as well as in. These Thessalonians had
done just that.
I rather liked Clarke’s observation in this regard. “They
walked so conscientiously before God and man, that their friends
could speak of them without a blush, and their adversaries could say
nothing to their disgrace.” It has to be said that this had
not prevented opposition from arising, arising fiercely, and quite
possibly having even turned deadly. But there were no charges that
could be brought. Even those early attempts to tag Jason as an enemy
of the state had pretty quickly proven nonsense, even if the event had
been rather costly to Jason. Yes, the magistrates shook him down, as
it were, for bail money, but there was plainly nothing to the claim,
and they were free to continue, even to continue in this religion they
had taken up. And honestly, who could stop them anyway? This, too,
has been something of a universal experience of the Church. Let
opposition come, let vehement, organized suppression arise, and the
Church only grows stronger, because fidelity amidst persecution
displays more fully the validity of that faith.
I will take a brief moment to observe that there is apparently some
question as to whether, when Paul speaks of them becoming an example,
he uses the plural or the singular form of the term. It apparently
depends which manuscripts you are following. Of course, which you
find to be the case will have some input as to how you hear Paul’s
commendation. Calvin, holding to the plural (and perhaps having no
access to such manuscripts as might raise questions about it), sees a
notice of each individual believer: Each of you has become a type, a
stamp impressed upon all who hear of you. Others, like the Wycliffe
Translators Commentary, and the JFB, are rather insistent that the
singular is correct, and thus, that the message is in regard to the
church as a whole. I don’t find it unreasonable, honestly, to suggest
that if the latter is true, then Calvin’s point must likewise hold.
That is to say, if the church as a whole could be spoken of with such
profound impact on those who heard of them, so, too, could those
individuals who composed that church. It might not apply universally
to each and every member, but I reckon the likelihood that it did was
far greater, given their circumstances, than might be the case for our
own churches.
Some would, after all, have discovered the powerful effect of the
gospel on this church through encounters with individual members
thereof. Perhaps they were met in the course of business around the
docks, or perhaps encountered as members of the crew on those ships
which traveled out from that port city. Perhaps, as other believers
came through the city on business, or whatever other purposes might
bring them along the Roman road, they had cause to experience the
hospitality these young believers were so keen to make available to
their brethren from other regions. And so, the impressions were of
specific individuals.
Others might not have had direct experience, but were hearing the
reports, as Paul observed, which were going forth, however they were
going forth. These reports would be less likely to involve
individuals by name, but would rather speak of an overall impression
of that church, how all those encountered from its body were so
profoundly and observably changed. Some, after all, would have
encountered these folks on prior trips, and might have some
familiarity with what they had been like. I think of Paul’s
observation, in regard to the Corinthians, that ‘such
were some of you’, and the list he refers to could hardly be
construed as favorable in the light of Christ (1Co
6:9-11): Sexual promiscuity of all sorts head the list, and
the sorts of activities we used to assign the label of party animal.
Then, too, there were attitudes that spoke to an unscrupulous nature
in business. As I say, those who had met them before may well have
encountered some of these ‘such were some of you’
behaviors. We knew you when… And now, they quite clearly, just as
blatantly, were not such. That has an impact.
There is a reason why Jesus chose to leave us as in the world, but
not of it (Jn 17:14-16). Having been of
the world, but no more, we leave a mark on the world, and
particularly, as I say, on those who knew us in our prior sinful
nature. This is part of the cause for opposition, for persecution.
We have become different. We don’t do as they do any longer. We
don’t partake of their amusements, and in many cases, must, in
rejecting participation, make our opposition to such things known.
Just consider the tensions that rather necessarily arise between
faithful believers and the modern proponents of anything-goes sexual
libertarianism. Those who insist, in their darkened perversity, that
every form of perversion is not merely to be permitted, but must be
welcomed and even celebrated, are bound to come to loggerheads with
those who insist that no, the laws of physics, amongst other things,
impose limits on what can reasonably be proposed, and that beyond
that, there exists the moral imposition of a just and righteous God,
Who has expressly declared, as even in that passage from 1Corinthians,
that those who practice such things will not find a place in His
kingdom.
Let me just observe, to those who remain committed to such pursuits
at present, His kingdom, in its full and final form, encompasses all
the earth. In truth, it already does so, but in this interim period,
there is another dark power that has its way amongst those who are not
of His elect. That usurping power will not always hold sway. Its
days are numbered, and well does its ruler know it. There will come
the day when the kingdom of God is established in full. It does not
require some political will toward establishing a theocracy in this
country or that. It so thoroughly transcends any bounds of country as
to render the idea rather laughable. Neither is it to be established
by the power of man in any way, shape or form. God is hardly in need
of such an assist. It will come, when it comes, because God has come
– the all-powerful, all-wise, omniscient and omnipresent God of all
creation; come at last to take full possession of that which He
created. This is the One who declares, “The
unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of
God.” Rather, it is the gentle who shall inherit the earth (Mt 5:5), a concept that has angered so many a
philosopher, bound up, as they tend to be, on the perfectibility of
man. It is to these that the true King will say, having come to judge
both the living and the dead, “Come, you who are
blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the
foundation of the world” (Mt 25:34).
Truly, He Who so arrayed events as to ensure with perfect timing the
birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus even from those first
days in Eden, is just as perfectly able to ensure the final outcome,
both as to its timing and its unveiling.
In the meantime, here we are, we believers, left to serve as a
template, a mold to be used in impressing the proper form of faith
upon those we encounter. How do we go about making such an
impression? By holding fast to the example set us. For those in
Thessalonica, it was a matter of doing as they had observed their
teachers doing. Paul, Silas, and Timothy lived out their faith in
actions, and these new believers, having themselves been so impressed
by that example, sought, in the strength and power of the Holy Spirit
now indwelling, to go and do likewise. They were committed. They had
to be. After all, this church was born in opposition, born under
adversity. Those who were reborn to become this church knew that
opposition from the outset. If they were going to come to faith, it
would have to be such faith as was fully powered and guided by the
Holy Spirit of God Himself.
We share in part this advantage, for we most assuredly are likewise
indwelt by this same Holy Spirit of God, if indeed we have heard His
Gospel and responded with faith. It cannot be otherwise. All claims
to the contrary, if the Gospel has been received and salvation has
come, then assuredly, the Holy Spirit has taken up residence in the
temple of the soul. But we might be rather hard-pressed to find
examples such as Paul and company by which to establish the model of
faith for ourselves. We certainly do not have the apostolic witness
in any man alive today, whatever claims they may make for themselves.
We have pastors, and hopefully we have pastors who are faithful not
only in their preaching, but in the example they set. We have elders
which we would hope are likewise faithfully exercising faith on their
own part. But we aren’t with them daily, as was more likely to be the
case with these. We have a few hours together of a Sunday, mostly
spent sitting under the ministry of the Word. We have, perhaps, a
mid-week service, but again, spent primarily the same way, and even
where there is a more social aspect to it, still, we are on our best
behavior, aren’t we?
Account for it as you will, what you get on Sunday is not the whole
me. It is, I might suggest, the me I desire to be, or the me I am on
my better days. We can, after all, generally hold it together for a
few brief hours, however much we may struggle at other times. We can
set aside those besetting sins for that window of time when we are
together, particularly knowing that soon enough we’ll be apart again,
and free to pursue our pursuits away from prying eyes. Ah, but never
beyond sight of our Lord! But we know that this is not always enough,
even as we are aware of it. For all that we profess a true and
profound love for God, yet we know equally well that sin is still in
us. And I suspect most of us know those times when we would have to
confess that sin has the upper hand. We may look with dismay upon the
failures of David or of Solomon, and pronounce our wonder at the idea
that one so richly used of God could fall so hard. But if we are a
bit more lucid, I dare say we should have to recognize that we are
just as capable of just as grand a fall, given the same temptations.
So, what are we to do? We are deprived of the Apostolic example, the
personal encounter with the living Jesus or His immediate
ambassadors? Ah, but we have this: We have those same traditions
delivered once for all to the saints. Jude, the brother of Christ
speaks of wanting to expound upon that ‘faith which
was once for all delivered to the saints’ (Jd
3). And even in expressing this point, he has in fact done
so, even if not in the way he had desired to do. But we have this
record, this marvelous text, or collection of texts really, which we
speak of as the Bible. I say it is marvelous because it is! Even
considered simply in terms of how it has come into being, and how it
has been preserved across the millennia, it is marvelous. If we take
the time to consider how, with so many different authors, writing
across so great an expanse of time and in such varied eras and
circumstances, have presented so consistent a message, so integrated a
body of Truth, we must marvel. We must, I think, at the very least
entertain the possibility that some higher power has been
orchestrating that effort. If we contemplate how, historically, this
text has been preserved and attested, we have another marvel. How
many efforts have there been to suppress, distort, and destroy this
message, and yet, what we have in hand is the single, most
historically attested text of all antiquity, and that body of
historical records remains incredibly consistent, in spite of the
sorts of scribal errors that have cropped up, such as our question of
singular or plural in this matter of example.
Let me reiterate a lesson from my earlier notes, one I have no doubt
reiterated many a time. The message to us in all this is that we have
no need for novelty. We need no new ‘revelation’ posited to excite
our imaginations. Indeed, we have every reason to treat any such
proposed revelation as being rather entirely suspect, except insofar
as it reiterates that which has been revealed. I go back to that
message of Peter’s. “His divine power has granted
us everything pertaining to life and godliness,
through the true knowledge of Him who called us
by His own glory and excellence” (2Pe
1:3). Such a powerful declaration that is! And beloved, if
you are already granted everything you need, already granted true
knowledge, complete, precise and entire, epignosis
knowledge of Him, honestly, what need have you for some other
revelation? What else is to be revealed? Are you still shopping
around for timetables, for the lurid details of all those trials and
tribulations to come? Honestly, I have to ask, why? As to
timetables, He stated plainly enough that they would not be given. “It is not for you to know times or epochs which the
Father has fixed by His own authority” (Ac
1:7). What? You thought that was just for the Apostles?
Seriously, if anybody was to get the news, would it
not have been them? Would not John, there on Patmos receiving visions
of those end times that have you so preoccupied, have been told the
schedule?
And as to those end-times, I have to ask as well: What value would
it be to you to know with greater detail the trials and tribulations
to come? In what way is faith improved by terrifying pronouncements
of certain doom? Even if it be accepted that we must go through these
events even though adopted into God’s own family, what of it? The
simple fact remains: We know how it ends. We know we have an
inheritance, and we know that the grave, however unwelcome, is not the
end. We ought to know that whatever this life
throws at us, it is, in fullest perspective, but a blip on the horizon
of eternity. It is only by the slightest of degrees more than
nothing, and as Paul observed, unworthy to be compared to that ‘eternal weight of glory’ being produced in us by
these very same afflictions of the present.
We lose sight of this: Glory is always presented as a weighty thing,
and not in the sense of profundity alone, but truly a weight. The shekinah glory of old was a weighty thing.
There is a reason, I dare say, why those who come into the true
presence of God find themselves driven to their knees, and
prostrated. It’s not simply that this was the common posture of
worship and submission at the time. A weight has come, a weight far
beyond the capacity of this human frame to bear. Is this not at least
part of the reason that we discover a need for a new, resurrection
body if indeed we are to come into the eternal kingdom of our God?
There is the place where this very weighty Glory dwells. And we have
this as promise, that we who have been called by God, adopted as His
family members, will indeed come into this place. Our house has been
prepared there, and our inheritance is already stored up there. Our
Lord is there, the Light which lights that place by day and night (if
such terms still have meaning in eternity) forevermore. And we,
having been at least fully and truly transformed, will be such as can,
like the angels, abide in that weight of glory. Abiding in that
weight of glory, if we look back at all upon this brief span of
earthly life, I dare say we shall conclude as Paul already did, that
it is insignificant, all that we may have suffered. It is nothing.
Look what the Lord has done for us!
As concerns this matter of example, let me suggest that even in our
present experience, it is the weight of this glory which is God’s
alone which bears down on us, impresses His image and character upon
us. It is His glory which works through us to leave its mark on those
we meet, those in whom the Spirit is working, preparing the ground,
that His mark may be received there as well. We have the example. We
have the example of Christ, and we have the example of those directly
impacted by His ministry. We have the example of the Apostles, and of
the Prophets, their forebears. And, we have the examples of these
churches, the record of their successes and failures, as we have them
of Israel before them, that we might learn, and perhaps might even
avoid simply repeating the same errors.
Don’t chase after novelty, dear ones. Be instead imitators of
Christ. Let your character be more fully shaped by the weight of His
glory. Take the lessons and the discipline He imparts. Take His yoke
upon you, for it is light, in all reality, though its impress is
deep. Become an example in your own turn. Let me stress, you cannot
do this for yourself. You cannot will your way to being a fine,
upstanding citizen of heaven’s kingdom. But neither are you likely to
become such an example apart from your willing participation in the
process. Observe what is here to observe. We are now some two
thousand years down the road from the establishing of this little
church in Thessalonica, and still their example is
before us; still we can look back on the admittedly limited record we
have of their faithfulness to the Christ of the Gospel, and take it to
heart, seeking that we might follow their example as they followed
Paul’s, as Paul followed Christ.
This, after all, is the model set for the Church. We become
imitators of those whose faith has been modeled for us, and in doing
so, we become examples for others to follow. This is your first and
chief good work, your grand purpose in being. Yes, our chief end is
to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever. But this is part and parcel
of that same primary end. As we live to glorify God, as we are shaped
by our love for Him, and even more, in His love for us, we are given
purpose to our being. We are made stamps, each one of us, by which
the Holy Spirit may then impress the truth of the Gospel on another,
and another.
I wrote, in my first pass notes, that there is a great deal of being
exemplary imitators of Christ which goes beyond mere obedience. We
can, after all, give grudging compliance. We’ve known how to do that
from earliest days, haven’t we? Perhaps you were what we call a
compliant child, always ready to simply do what you were told, but I
don’t know as that’s a terribly common experience. I would suspect
far more of us can recall testing the limits, complying more for lack
of viable alternatives than for any desire to please or to emulate.
Why do we (assuming we do) comply with the laws of those lands in
which we live, except it be a perceived lack of viable alternatives?
Why, we might ask, do we see criminality on the rise, except that
those alternatives now seem far more viable? Why do you feel free to
pretty much ignore speed limits, to take the common and relatively
benign example? Because you perceive very little likelihood of being
caught out for it. Why are business trips and conventions so often
held up as occasions when individuals let their true colors show, and
chase after such sins as they would never contemplate pursuing at
home? It’s the same deal: There is no perceived risk of discovery.
“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”
Except it doesn’t, does it? God knows.
So, our example, our imitation of Christ must get beyond rote
obedience, or that obedience born of concern for consequences. Even
taking my examples above, it’s insufficient that we keep our nose
clean out of awareness that even in our private moments, God remains
present and aware of our every action and every thought. That’s still
nothing but risk aversion. No, if we would be examples in our
faithful adherence to Christ, it must come of a motivation of love for
Him, both that love which speaks of real fondness, and that love which
is the reflection of God’s own love for us. It is that love which
empowers those labors of love which Paul just mentioned in the
preceding verses. It is that love which gives true shape to the stamp
of our character, of His character formed in us – by Him, but with
full cooperation from our willing, gladly willing compliance.
The JFB observes, as we have been observing, that these Thessalonians
became imitators, and in so doing, became themselves examples to be
imitated. Let this be our goal. Indeed, let this be our story, God
willing; that we, too imitated the example set for us both by those we
encounter in Scripture, and by those we encounter in life. Ever, in
doing so, we must hold to that habit of our forebears; following no
man farther than he follows Christ. But let us be equally committed
to fully following that man so far as he does follow Christ! Let us
be made, by the collaboration of the Spirit’s powerful work in us, and
our own willing exercise of that power, such examples as may resound
as does the example of this little church on the shores of the
Mediterranean.
Exemplary Joy (10/03/22)
This morning, I’m going to look at the clause that comes between
being imitators and being worthy of imitation. These to whom Paul
writes had ‘received the word in much tribulation
with the joy of the Holy Spirit’. I have already spoken
somewhat of the tribulation part, and we shall revisit it again, but
here I just want to note the observation made in the Wycliffe
Translators Commentary, that what is in view here is ‘the
relentless pressure to which a believer may be exposed in a world
opposed to Christ’. I’m not sure I should leave that as ‘may be’. I suspect, where that believer is
indeed living evidence of the work of God within, that this relentless
pressure of opposition is a given. The believer will be
exposed to such pressure, given that he lives in a world that is
opposed to Christ. And yet, this pressure is faced, met head on and
defeated by something unexpected, at least in worldly terms. It is
met and withstood by joy.
Indeed, that joy was already on display in that these fresh-minted
believers in Thessalonica had come to be minted in the first place.
They listened eagerly to word of this God that everybody seems opposed
to. The Bereans were perhaps more famed for this eager reception,
happily searching the Scriptures upon learning of the Gospel’s
message, to see if indeed these happy promises were true. This was
not the skeptic’s searching for holes in the sermon, or pride seeking
to assert its superior knowledge and understanding. This was a
hopeful search, a joyful discovering that indeed, these great and
precious promises were from of old, and were now being made known in
their day. And they, praise the Lord, had been chosen to receive this
message, and receive it they did! With great joy. But the Bereans
weren’t the only ones. The Thessalonians had received this message
with much the same welcome and fervor. The Philippians, for that, had
received it before them, and again with welcoming embrace.
The world, you see, comes with relentless pressure, but the Spirit
comes with indomitable joy. The Spirit comes, as well, with the seed
of this Gospel, implanting it in hearts rendered receptive. Where the
call of God has come, that heart will be made
receptive, because it is not the flesh of man working up response to
this news. It is God rendering this good news to be welcome indeed.
He opens ears to hear. He softens
hearts to receive. He renders His elect, as Calvin
puts it, eager to obey God. And that first act of obedience consists
in first receiving that which He has given. The Gospel came not in
mere words that washed over without impact, but with power, with the
Holy Spirit accompanying, assuring that this Gospel had its desired
result in those who heard.
It’s not just that initial reception that so depends upon the work of
the Spirit. The example we are seeing set, this joy of which Paul
writes, is every bit as much the result of the work of the Spirit,
producing in these believers that which ‘flesh will
never render’. This is the joy we are talking about. It’s
not a feeling worked up in us, it’s the work of the Spirit in
us. It’s not giddy laughter, and it’s not thoughtless
smiling as if utterly unaware of circumstance. It is, however, that
joy which recognizes that however trying the circumstance, and however
relentless the pressure of worldly opposition, it really doesn’t
matter all that much. It’s the sort of joy that resonates with
David’s bold confidence. “In God I have put my
trust, I shall not be afraid. What can man do to me?” (Ps 56:11). We hear it echoed by a later
psalmist. “The LORD is for me; I will not fear.
What can man do to me?” (Ps 118:6).
Paul has much the same to declare. “If God is for
us, who is against us?” (Ro 8:31).
But it gets better, doesn’t it? “Who shall
separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or
distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril or
sword? As is written, ‘For Thy sake we are put to death all day
long, like sheep to the slaughter.’ But in all these
things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. I am
thoroughly convinced that neither death, nor life, neither angels
nor principalities, nothing present, nothing to come, no power,
height, or depth, nor any created thing, shall be
able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus
our Lord” (Ro 8:35-39).
That is the believer’s assured confidence, his assured hope of
heaven; assured not by bare reason, but assured by this same Holy
Spirit who has taken up residence in the temple of the soul. The
heart He has prepared has become a welcoming throne upon which our
Lord Jesus Christ is seated and reigning. That is joy. You are the
temple of the living God! Imagine that! He is with you, lo! Even to
the end of the age. Whom shall you fear?
Let me tell you, it ought not to be that you fear even Him, not in
that sense we usually apply to fear. By all means, He is to be
reverenced, worshiped in His transcendent majesty. But feared? He
loves you. He has given unprecedented, unparalleled evidence of His
love for you. He gave you His very Son, made hideous by the weight of
your sins, rejected by man, and for that brief time separated even
from the fellowship He had known for all eternity for this one express
reason; that you might be made righteous in the atoning sacrifice of
His innocent blood. And He lives, that you, too, having been bought
clear of your eternal penalty by that sacrifice, might live – really
live, and that, forever, together with Him. Yes. There’s cause for
joy, isn’t there? There’s cause for that quality of joy that truly
transcends circumstance, not dismissing them as if they aren’t
happening, but fixed upon and certain of God Who saves.
Listen up! This is the sort of calm joy, even in the midst of great
trial, which makes an impact. There is that impact of which Kipling
wrote, observing that when you can hold your head amidst these trials,
‘then you shall be a man’. This goes beyond that, which in the end is
but a worldly yardstick. When all about you are seeking to tear you
down, and still you face even the imposition of death with calm
confidence that flows from assured hope in God, then shall you be
something more than just a man. You shall be such a testimony to the
transforming power of God as shall indeed leave its impression even
upon those who would see you broken and destroyed.
Again, this isn’t pretending that such events are somehow fun. There
may be those who, like Polycarp, will face so gruesome a death being
imposed, and yet stand singing with gladness unto God. It’s not out
of the question. But I really don’t think that’s the point. Merely
facing those events with assurance unshaken, or like Stephen, crying
out news of seeing the Lord seated at the right hand of the Father’s
throne, and having no more to wish against his tormenters than that
they might be forgiven, as they don’t really know what they are
doing: That has power. I have little doubt but that it made
significant impact on Paul, who sat as witness to that event. After
all, it is his companion Luke from whom we learn of this event. And
where did he learn of it? That is the sort of joy, I think, that Paul
has in view. I don’t think Stephen was dancing about with glee as he
was stoned. That just doesn’t happen. Sorry. But still, with his
dying breath, he proclaimed the gospel and the displayed the character
of his Lord; not reviling, not calling down vengeance, but seeking
their salvation. And I have to say, it seems clear enough that God
was pleased to hear such a prayer on the lips of His child.
This is joy: You know your sins pardoned. You know your standing
with God. He has forgiven you. He has not merely made your rescue
possible. He has made it a certainty. There is no longer any enmity
between you. You may have been enemies when He came to you, but He
has put paid to that. There is no war between you any longer, no
calls from vengeance from heaven against you. The courts of heaven no
longer record your many crimes against its King, but instead have you
recorded in the Lamb’s book of life, with notations as to that place
prepared for you, and perhaps some indication as to when you shall be
arriving, that joyful preparation may be made to welcome you home.
This is the confidence that lends strength to the believer in the
midst of trial. Paul writes, “In Him we live and
move and have our being” (Ac 17:28).
Now, the occasion upon which he uttered this famous formulation was
not one in which he was in peril. Rather, he was presenting this
great good news to those who pursued philosophy, those who claimed to
seek answers to the very sorts of questions he answered by that simple
statement. Why do we live? God. How is it we are possessed of
motive force? God moves you, not as pawns, mind, but God moves you.
Why do we have being? Because God has breathed into you this breath
of life. He has given you being. Modern science
may understand much about the processes that lead to life – even if
there is this disturbed tendency to deny that it is in fact life at
those early stages, or even not-so-early stages of development. But
they cannot give answer to why. They cannot accept that whatever the
mechanics of the deal, and however conscientiously involved the
parents, as to both planning and execution of those things which have
led to life, it is God who gives life.
I dare say, we must also accept that it is God who takes life away.
But we don’t much like to hear that part. We would prefer to blame
that on other forces. But that must, if we do so, leave those other
forces equal or near equal to that power which resides in God alone,
and that simply won’t do. It is in Him we live,
move, exist – Him alone. Somewhere, the Psalmist observed that were
He to turn aside for the briefest moment, all existence would cease.
He is attentive, this God. He is involved. He is in control. And He
has chosen you, if you who read this are in fact believers who have
known His call. This gives a confidence unshakable. This gives cause
for us to proclaim with absolute assurance that the worst man can do
to us will only speed us to our reward. And even that, to be honest,
they cannot do. They cannot alter the schedule by so much as a
femtosecond, or even a subdivision of a femtosecond. God knows the
exact number of your days, for He has decreed it. You can’t prolong
it and they can’t truncate it. But from our perspective in this life,
we can still say that yes, should they kill the body they succeed in
nothing more than sending us home to our reward. Is there sorrow in
this? How can there be for us? Where’s the downside? Shall we be so
attached to those left behind as to resist this upward call to home?
I rather doubt it, not when that call has become reality. There can
only be fond farewell, and fonder anticipation of the welcome ahead.
The Wycliffe Translators Commentary observes, “Affliction
cannot dampen the true joy of the Spirit.” Agreed. Paul and
Silas, beaten and imprisoned in Philippi, did not find their joy,
their enthusiasm for the Gospel and for the God of the Gospel, any bit
dampened, but sang out praises to Him to whom they belonged, Him they
served. And lo! When afflictions abounded, God saw to it that
consolations abounded the more. I thank Matthew Henry for this
thought. For it applies to us as well. We, too, have need of
consolation amidst the afflictions of this life. We may not face the
mortal perils that have faced others, but we certainly know the agony
that cries out, “Woe is me, for I sojourn in
Meshech, I dwell among the tents of Kedar! Too long has my soul had
its dwelling with those who hate peace” (Ps
120:5-6). We may not know the peoples of whom the Psalmist
writes, but we assuredly recognize the circumstance. But facing that
pressure, facing all that the world opts to throw at us, we walk in
confident joy, for we have this from our Lord and Savior: “I
have told you all this that you may have peace in Me.” And ‘all this’ was not some pile of good news as we
should measure it. It was the assurance that they would abandon Him,
and be scattered. They would be, by every worldly measure, abject
failures, utterly overwhelmed and lost in the opposition that must
come, utterly shattered as they witnessed the death of their friend,
their teacher, their Lord. All hope would seemingly have been lost.
But hear it, and hear it to the depths of your soul: “Take
courage! I have overcome the world” (Jn
16:33). It’s not going to look that way to you, but there it
is. Be calm and hold fast your joy. You shall see it. You shall see
Me.
And we have the enormous benefit of hindsight in this. We did not
have to witness His utter humiliation, His bloody and torn body
paraded through the streets, spiked to the cross like some
entomologist’s prize specimen, and hung up to die slowly, painfully,
as people from all walks came by to spit out their abuse at Him. We
did not awake to find Him being arrested, and fearing for our own
safety, to flee into the night. We have seen how this part of the
story ends, learned of it, most likely, before the full horror of
those events ever began to register with us. And so it is with our
own eventual transition from this life into the next. It may be every
bit as brutal. Who’s to say? It may be the peaceful transition of
one who dies in his sleep. The details really don’t matter. Because
we know the end of this story, as well. He has overcome
the world. He has overcome our sin. He has put paid to the debt of
death, and transferred us into life, real life. And in that life, we
have joy. And in that joy we stand. And in standing, we become a
Maker’s seal, if you will, leaving a deep impression on those who
witness our steadfast, joyful faith in the God Who Is.
The Example Spread (10/04/22)
I come to the last part of this passage, where we have something of a
paralleled thought presented: The word of the Lord has sounded forth
from you, and your faith toward God has gone forth. These two are
inseparable. We cannot have faith apart from the Word, and where the
Word has come, there cannot but be faith. It is of a piece with our
understanding in regard to the presence of the Holy Spirit. If He has
come, it cannot be but that His fruit will show in us. If faith has
come, this going forth of the word, the gospel being spread, is the
necessary result. Faith, if it is faith in God, is not satisfied to
just be. It is not satisfied to know itself saved, having no care or
concern for those others who have yet to hear and receive. Faith
spreads. It has as its great desire the glorification of the God in
whom it rests, from whom it came. As such, is has as its great desire
that as many others as possible may know of Him, may hear His call and
respond with hearts as delighted in Him as is our own.
And how is this achieved? Do we go out to the street corners and
start shouting at passers-by? I rather doubt it, although I don’t
suppose it’s entirely out of the question. Do we mount tent meetings,
energetic outreaches such that those walking about in the summer might
perchance hear and find themselves intrigued enough to stop and truly
listen? Perhaps. There’s a place for such exercises, I think. I
suppose I must so think, being as I used to participate in just such
activities in the hopes that perhaps one or two might hear and come to
Christ. But there’s something to be said, as well, for the quiet
example of life lived in concord with that faith. The life of the
faithful preaches, and whether pastors like it or not, sometimes,
perhaps oft times, that preaching happens quite apart from any
vocalized message. Oh, it will come in time, I think. But the
example sets the stage for it to be truly heard. Yes, the power of
God to save is in the Gospel, and that Gospel is a thing to be
preached. By all means, it must be preached! But let there be no
example of its impact and who shall give it a hearing?
The Wycliffe Translators Commentary, which I seem to have found most
useful on this passage, observes that when Paul says that the word of
the Lord sounded forth from them, he brings into view the prophetic
force of the Old Testament. There is an emphasis being laid on the
authority behind the message, we might say the power behind the
example. But let us stick with the audible word. There is something
of a “Thus sayeth the Lord” sense to his
statement. The example is there, but it is spreading because those
who set the example were also ready, in season and out, to give reason
for the hope that was in them (1Pe 3:15).
Their joyful persistence raised questions in those who observed their
righteous response to trial, and they were more than happy to explain
how this could be.
So, yes, we may begin the exercise of sounding forth in quiet,
exemplary living, but it won’t stay quiet, will it? Comes a time when
questions will be asked, and when questions are asked, we must needs
be ready, willing, and able to give an answer. Here is our moment of
serious dependency on the Spirit to give us that which we should say.
It’s not time to pull out a canned speech, or some prepared
testimony. It’s time to speak as the Spirit gives utterance – not in
incomprehensible bursts of ecstatic utterance, but in on-point
explanation that strikes home.
I find our commentaries at loggerheads as to just what Paul has in
view here. Barnes is quite certain that this indicates active
evangelic pursuits. They were purposefully and personally involved in
propagating the gospel which they had received. And one can see how,
if they were indeed walking as they had seen Paul and the others live
out their faith, this would be a natural result. But then others,
like the JFB, are just as convinced that if there was anything
missionary in their response, it was more virtual. It was word of
them that spread, not themselves bearing the word. I’ll come back to
that latter opinion, for whatever may be the truth of the case, they
do have something valid to say on the subject, which has more bearing
on our present day than questions of just what Paul means here.
But let me simply say that this church we are looking at would appear
to have been drawn from a wide range of people. There were those who
were well to do, and they might well have been traveling in pursuit of
their business interests. Where they went, did they cease to be
Christians? No. They lived elsewhere as they did amongst their
brethren: In imitation of that example set for them, and in the
indwelling presence and power of the Holy Spirit. Some among their
number may have been crewmen to those ships that plied the waters of
the Aegaen and the Mediterranean. They, too, were the same men as
they labored, and as they visited distant ports, as they were at
home. Others may have hosted travelers coming along the Via Ignatia,
who having experienced their hospitality and encountered their
examples in greater degree, bore news of it as they went, preaching,
as it were, by relaying news of the great impact this Christian faith
was having on believers there.
I suppose my conclusion, to the degree there is one, is that quite
likely both perspectives are correct. There were those actively,
purposefully engaged in missionary evangelism of a nature at least
somewhat familiar to us, and there were those whose faith was sounding
out by means more local, more virtual, as the JFB puts it. These were
‘recommending the Gospel to all within their
influence by word and by example’. That’s the way the JFB
chooses to describe it, and I have to say, this must surely apply
whether their efforts were the virtual impact of local encounters or
the more purposeful efforts of missionaries traveling abroad.
Our church is, this weekend, sending off a team to serve as
missionaries for a week or so in some foreign place. This is a fine
exercise, I suppose, and it will have some impact, one hopes. But its
value is distinctly, inexorably tied to the degree in which those who
go to serve present the Gospel not merely by word, skit, and maybe
some contributed labor, but by a consistent example of the influence
of the Gospel on their nature. Others have been involved with more
local outreaches, seeking to give aid to the many homeless in the
area. The same applies for them. If they are but bearers of free
food then they shall have been no more than one more public service,
perhaps helping, perhaps only enabling. But if their consistent
example is of one whose motive power is found in Christ alone, if
their material supplies are accompanied by lived testimony to the God
of heaven, perhaps, just perhaps, there can come of this something
more than an easing of the hardships of that style of living.
But then, this same impact is possible in our workplaces. We needn’t
be stealing company time to evangelize. We needn’t be some obnoxious
office dweller with posters loudly shouting out our faith. But
neither need we hide it away and pretend to be just like those others
around us. We need, by our honest dealings, by our earnest efforts on
behalf of our employers, by our considerate and helpful dealings with
our coworkers, to manifest this gospel that is in us, to encourage not
by overt exercises, but by quiet example, those questions that just
might give rise to an opportunity to speak of this Jesus we love.
Hear it! Whatever the means, their influence was in fact spreading
the gospel. Barnes suggests that this is the ‘necessary
result of their conversion’, whether it involved direct
effort on their part or not. Where the Gospel has come in power, it’s
going to show. It’s going to leave a mark, and that mark is
beautiful. As I concluded in earlier comments, faith preaches even
when you don’t. If it is real, it must. If it doesn’t make itself
manifest in our word and character, then I must suggest we have great
cause for concern as to whether in fact it is real.
We heard discussion in last
Sunday’s sermon as to the nature of those with whom James
concerns himself at the end of his epistle, those who had strayed from
the truth, and were at great risk of death (Jas
5:19-20). The call is, of course, to do as best we can to
turn such a one back. But this raises questions, doesn’t it? Is
James saying we can in fact lose this faith which God has implanted?
Well, no. It cannot be that, for what God has established shall in no
wise be destroyed. One of my favorite passages was even brought forth
to bear on that question. “I give eternal life to
them, and they shall never perish; and on one shall snatch them out
of My hand,” with its follow-on, “My
Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is
able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I
and the Father are One” (Jn 10:28-30).
The power to do that doesn’t exist. God’s Word does not fail of its
purpose. The only question, then, is whether its purpose was
salvation or condemnation in a given individual’s case.
What it comes down to is this. There are many who attend but don’t
believe. There are many who profess a faith they don’t really
possess. They may think they do. Perhaps they have mistaken
excitement for faith. Perhaps they have managed some reasoned
response of agreement. After all, it would be hard, for instance, to
examine the requirements set forth in the Ten Commandments, and find
them odious. Certainly, the morals present in the second table could
find little argument. Don’t murder? Check. Don’t mess with your
neighbor’s wife? Check. Don’t steal? Well, I certainly don’t wish
to be stolen from, so check. Honor your parents? I’d prefer it if my
kids did, so sure. There’s plenty of room for that sort of acceptance
and agreement that comes of acknowledging that there is indeed wisdom
in these pages. But it’s not faith. It’s not dependence upon that
God Who reveals Himself in the message. It’s still all words, no
power. These are the ones James sees at risk. They might hear some
new philosophy that sounds just as good and perhaps doesn’t place such
requirements upon them, doesn’t bother them about their sins, just
offers a path to self-improvement. And wandering down that path, they
might very well discover that they have in fact taken to the broad
highway that leads only to perdition.
What to do? Seek that they might yet be turned from their error.
Seek that they might yet hear the Gospel in its saving power, not
merely as a fine philosophy. Seek that they may yet be truly of the
elect. Here is a fine mission field, you who would be missionaries.
And it requires no travel, no raising of funds. It requires only that
we live as we believe, that we love as we are loved, that we preach by
example and word alike, always in hope, always in that calm joy and
confidence afforded us by the Holy Spirit Who guides and instructs us.
However this worked in their case, and I do suspect we’re looking at
multiple modes, rather than having to choose one view or the other,
Paul was discovering that he did not need to bring them forward as an
example when he preached. He didn’t need to appeal to past successes
in hopes of furthering the chances of current success. Word of the
impact this Gospel was having on others reached them before he did.
Ships, after all, travel rather more quickly than men afoot, and
especially so when they stop for a season in this city or that. News
traveled fast, and what came of it was that when Paul came with the
Gospel, the ground was already favorably prepared. Oh, there would be
plentiful opposition, for those who opposed Christianity traveled just
as fast as the positive news. But here was this profound testimony of
lives so utterly, so vibrantly changed. They were not as they used to
be. We knew them when, but they’re not like that anymore. We may not
know what’s up with this Christian faith, but we can see its impact,
and its impact is all to the good. It’s certainly showing better
influence on its members than these gods of ours.
Well, I approach a close, and I must approach a lesson, a question.
If I am His, as we are seeing from this greeting overall, and from
this section particularly, it ought to show. Does it? I admit, I see
my case as a bit unusual, at least historically, in that so much of my
time is spent in relative isolation. I work from great distance, and
have fairly limited contact with my coworkers, certainly nothing that
might count as socializing time. It’s been so for years in my case,
and introvert that I am, I rather like it this way. Much less noisy;
much less annoyance. But also, it must be said, much less
opportunity. I don’t live before them. On the one hand, great! My
failures of character won’t destroy my testimony. On the other hand,
what testimony? All I have to offer in this setting is a job well and
conscientiously done. And I can find plenty of others here whose
devotion to the job is above and beyond. But that’s not the same
thing, is it? It’s one thing to be competent, and it’s one thing to
be industrious to the point of being something of a workaholic. It’s
quite another to be a consistent Christian in one’s employments. It
doesn’t demand slaving away at all hours. It does demand an honest
day’s work for an honest day’s pay. It does demand giving one’s best,
even when that effort goes underappreciated, or even maligned. We
plug on. We don’t allow frustration and anger to take root. We live
our work as we live our lives as we live our faith.
But the question remains: Does it show? When we encounter
neighbors, does it show? Do we even find ourselves counted as
neighbors, as opposed to merely the folks who live next door, or the
couple we see walking the neighborhood streets day after day? Is
there contact? Is there engagement? Not so much as there should be,
no. Indeed, would any who knew me have cause to speak of my faith?
I’m not sure I could give positive answer to that. I could ask, for
all that, if anybody I know actually knows me. And there, too, I’m
not sure I could give positive answer. But the fact remains: If I am
His, it ought to show. This is not something for me to try and work
up in myself. It is, however, something about which to pray, so I
shall.
Father, I confess I don’t know just what to make of this. My
faith in You remains utterly confident. I have known Your call, and
I still do. I have seen my excitement and my desire for holiness
wax and wane at times, sometimes growing, sometimes stagnant. But
this is not my basis. You are my basis. You are my all in all.
Yet, I would be a faithful servant, one whose life and character
truly serve to proclaim Your goodness. I don’t know as I have it in
me to be a public speaker on Your behalf, but then, neither did
Moses think himself up to the task. I can only lay myself before
You, earnestly seek to give myself over to You to do with me as You
will, and then set myself to be willing, moldable clay in Your
hands. Make of me, I pray, an expression of Your handiwork. Let me
walk so as to bring glory to Your name, by whatever means You
choose. Grant that I might indeed operate in the strength and power
that You provide, and not in my own cleverness or insight. Let me
be such as will cause Your word to sound forth. I am Yours. Use me
as You will.