They Changed (04/30/22)

The Thessalonian church had done as have all who truly come to hear Christ’s call.  They changed.  And that is evident in this brief passage, as Paul describes their response to the Gospel.  “You turned to God from idols.”  That’s the wonderful thing about turning, isn’t it?  If you turn, it is necessarily away from something.  But it is also turning towards something else.  The term before us is epestrepsate, with the idea of turning oneself around, or turning back.  It is the core of reformation, and arguably the core of the Reformation.  What was happening, after all, other than to turn back from what things had become to return to how things had been?  Now, that’s rather a different aspect of the turning around than we have here with the Thessalonians.

Here it is not so much a turning back as turning off onto an entirely new course, one from which it must be hoped there is no turning back.  We used to sing of it in song.  “I have decided to follow Jesus.  No turning back.”  I have been changed, and having been changed, I shall not return to what I was.  I could add that should I discover myself edging back towards old ways and habits, it is a call to turn around once more, and get back on this new course.  There is your reformation, and it is something of a constant thing, a matter for constant attention and prayer.

Now, a bit of an aside, but as I was working through the Greek words, I discovered that this term for reformation has as its active form, epistrepho, which might or might not look a bit more familiar.  I associate it with epistrophy, which I must admit is probably not a word familiar to many.  Indeed, I see it’s not familiar to my spell-checker.  Actually, the most common reference for it appears to be the song by which the word is known to me, an old Thelonious Monk composition, which I see came about in conjunction with Kenny Clarke.   Learn something every day.  So, one definition I do find for it is as a botanical term, indicating, to quote the Century Dictionary, ‘the reversion of an abnormal form to the normal one’.  There is also the more official sense given to epistrophe as repeating an expression at the end of successive phrases for poetic effect.  One suspects it is this definition which Monk and Clarke had in mind as they put their song together.

But I rather like that botanical sense in considering the idea before us.  It’s probably a terribly improper bit of word work on my part, but consider.  In turning from idols to God, the sense would be that these Thessalonians were reverting to form.  Now, we tend to think of that phrase as a negative matter.  Oh, you’ve been putting on a front, but now I see.  You’re returning to form.  We might think of it as recidivism, the reformed criminal demonstrating that his reformation was not real.  But from this botanical aspect, it’s more that there had been an anomalous period.  What had been their condition was not the normal form, but an aberration, an abnormality.  If we view this on the scale of mankind’s history, is that not clearly the case?  We had, at the beginning, the normal, intended state of man in Adam’s experience of Eden.  Everything was well.  Everything was harmonious.  Man was as he should be, a living, walking emissary of God, living in God’s presence as God’s representative. 

But something happened.  Sin entered in, and man was enticed away from his proper duty as God’s emissary, and sought self-rule.  He thought to become like God in knowledge, and no doubt, in power, but in reality, fell prey to another power, that of the devil, that of idols.  And for long, long centuries, man had continued in blind subjugation to these idols of demons.  It took the coming of Christ, to live and die in full and untainted obedience to the living and true God, taking upon Himself the penalty of mankind’s sinful history (and sinful future) to put paid to our debt to this same living and true God, to make possible our return.  For ages, all we had known was this abnormality.  We thought it was the normal form.  One wonders to what degree the caterpillar, as it munches its way through those early days of life, supposes this is its normal form.  Mind you, that already takes something of a leap of imagination, doesn’t it, to suppose a caterpillar thinks at all.  But for us, to the degree thought entered into it, it led us right off to those idols.  It still does, though our idols are, perhaps, a bit less obvious in their forms.  Yet, they are the same old slave masters, seeking to obtain from us a loyalty and obedience properly due God alone.

So, when Paul came with news of the living and true God and of His proffer of forgiveness and indeed salvation, there was, for these benighted Gentiles, a sudden awakening.  We can argue later whether perhaps they had been groping about in the dark, seeking the path to liberty.  Perhaps some had, thinking to have found an answer in this God of the Jews.  Perhaps.  Or perhaps they simply thought to pad their bets, as it were.  How many, after all, went from temple to temple amongst the myriad gods of the Greeks, laying out an offering here, an offering there, not really all that convinced of any god’s power to do much, but figuring enough offerings laid on enough altars, one of them ought to do the trick?  Was this Jewish altar just one more half-hearted bet?

But what Paul presented, what God set before them through his ministry and example before them, was something completely new.  Here was news of a God not seeking appeasement and regular donations, but in fact offering, free of charge, a real and lasting forgiveness.  Here was the gauzy promise of every idolatrous pursuit made no longer gauzy, but visceral, and given not in return for costly offerings or years of service, but given freely, gratuitously.  And here, in Paul, Silas, and Timothy, was living proof that as God gave, so those who received His gift lived.  They, too, ministered not for gain, but gratuitously, indeed, seeking nothing in return for this most precious service.  “You know what kind of men we proved to be among you for your sake” (1Th 1:5).  They demonstrated the change they offered.  They demonstrated the reality of this change, and said, “You, too, can know this transformation.  You, too, can know this restoration from the abnormal that you have known and practices all your life, to the true, normal and natural form for which you were intended, a life lived in the presence of God, in harmonious accord with all His ways.”

Here is the turning around.   But, while there is an aspect of it being a case of turning oneself around, as the term implies, the reality of it is that you and I could no more have turned ourselves around than we could have birthed ourselves.  It needed something outside of us to accomplish that turning, and it’s more than merely somebody pointing out the possibility of an alternative.  It’s more than having been shown a new course we hadn’t noticed before.  You know, as we drive from place to place, we pass myriad opportunities for a new course, and give them no consideration.  Even if our passenger observes that this or that attraction is off this exit, we continue on our way.  Why?  Because we already have a destination in mind, and whatever that attraction may be, it won’t deter us from our present endeavor.  Something stronger is needed.  Some need must be experienced, and with it, the assurance of seeing that need satisfied if only we shall alter course.  That becomes all the more needful the greater the course shift.

You know, if we are en route to vacation, sure, we may turn off for a moment to get gas or grab a bite to eat.  Or, we may even opt for taking the scenic route, rather than sticking to the quicker, more direct way.  But the more the cost in time and effort which this turning off presents to us, the less likely it becomes that we shall incline to turn.  No, we’ll stick to plan, thanks.  We see a certain desire before us, and the satisfying of that desire, and it’s going to take a great deal to entice us away from that satisfaction.

Look at what was offered.  Someday, in some distant future, after you’ve lived your long life here on planet earth, and after you’ve been moldering in the grave for however long, this trump will sound and the angel cry, and you who are dead in Christ shall rise to life eternal.  But in this life?  Well, let’s have reference to this One who calls.  “In the world you have tribulation” (Jn 16:33).  Yet, there is in that promise an assurance.  “You may have peace, so take courage, for I have overcome the world.”  In the midst of this tribulation, you may have peace.  Indeed, you will have peace, for Lo!  I am with you even to the end of the age (Mt 28:20).  This isn’t some gauzy future.  It’s a rock-solid present.  I AM with you has as much, if not more to do with it than you will be with Me.

So, there’s the call.  Live in this fallen world of abnormality as one restored to true normal.  And it was not some unique experience of the Thessalonians.  It is the common experience of the Christian, I dare say.  We see a similar notice given to the Galatians, for all their issues.  “Before you knew God, you were enslaved to those which by nature are not gods” (Gal 4:8).  But that was before.  Now we have entered the after.  Now you know God, and knowing God, you know these idols for what they are, demonic interlopers offering no real power and having no real power.  Don’t make the mistake of thinking they are mere nothings that we can toy with for our amusement.  That’s not the point.  Demons do present powerful opposition to God and to the godly.  But their power, such as it is, is futile.  They may cause no end of grief.  They may persecute.  They may even provoke the torture and physical death of the believer, seeking to pry that believer loose from the God who has taken hold of him.  But they can’t touch the soul.  They can’t harm your inheritance.  They can’t damage your eternity.  There is your peace in the midst.  Do your worst, and you just speed me on my way home to heaven.

We see something of a perversion of that peace in the jihadist mindset.  I shall kill and slaughter my way to reward, goes the thinking.  I shall attain to paradise by acting more vilely than others.  Yet, so powerful is the blinding effect of idolatry that the rather obvious problems with such a perspective fail to even register.  One shudders to contemplate the shock awaiting them on the other side of the grave.  Oh, no.  It’s not paradise you’ve purchased.  Quite the opposite, really.

If we would see just how powerfully this issue of idols has been and continues to be for mankind, we need only consider the earlier example of Paul’s reception in Lycaonia.  This was on that earlier journey, when Paul and Barnabas were traveling and ministering together.  As it happened, they healed a man who had been lame from birth.  I love the way this story is set before us.  Paul and Barnabas weren’t out seeking to impress with signs and wonders.  They weren’t performing some sort of healing service to entice folks to come hear the Gospel.  They were preaching the gospel (Ac 14:6-17).  They were presenting the gospel to this man, and ‘he was listening to Paul as he spoke.’  Paul did nothing.  He didn’t touch the legs.  He didn’t lay his kerchief on the man or any other such thing.  He spoke of the Gospel, explained the God Who Is.  And this man heard with faith.  This was what Paul observed in the man, that faith was receiving the Gospel.  The Holy Spirit had entered in and opened the heart, such that being made well was a real possibility.  And only then did he command this man to stand up.  And he did!  Was it a miracle?  Assuredly so.  Was it a sign intentionally pursued?  Not so as I can see it, no.  It was a response to what God was already doing in this man.  It was recognition of the Spirit already at work.

But for our purposes here, it’s the response of the people that I want to bring into view.  Seeing this evidence of the God Who Is, they immediately concluded that it was their idolatrous gods come to life.  These could not be mere mortals.  It must be Zeus and Hermes themselves come for a visit.  Now, given the general flavor of Greek mythology, one can reasonably wonder if such an idea was something to be welcomed even if true.  The gods of the Greeks were a rather amoral lot, by and large.  But here was the priest of Zeus, and he did what he was trained to do.  He brought out all his accoutrements, and suggested perhaps a sacrifice should be made.  After all, if these gods are here, we certainly don’t want them to get upset with us.  Best to appease and seek to influence a happier result.

And Paul and Barnabas were forceful in their reaction.  “Men, why are you doing this?  We are but men like yourselves, and preach the gospel so that you might turn from these vain things to a living God, the God who made heaven, earth, and sea, and all that is in them” (Ac 14:15).  What are you doing?  It’s not us.  We are nothing.  It’s the God whom we serve, the true and living God, the God who made everything, you and us included.  There is an absolute need to deflect here.  They would heap glory upon the messenger, and the messenger will not have it.  God will not share His glory.  That remains true, and we do well to remember it.

But it gives rise to a question, doesn’t it?  We have been reading about how wherever Paul goes, he is hearing reports of this faithful body of believers up in Thessalonica, and “What kind of a reception we had with you.”  Apparently, the reports about Thessalonica mentioned Paul as having a central role in their transformation, their restoration.  One would sort of expect he would again be deflecting any accolades.  Oh, it’s not me, it’s God.  But we don’t see that here.  No, in fact he has noted that they imitated him and the Lord (1Th 1:6).  In other epistles we even find Paul encouraging such things.  “Imitate me” (1Co 11:1).  But observe, it is, “as I also imitate Christ.”  That’s the thing.  They were following his example, and his example was that of following Christ.  There is a vast gulf between acknowledging the role of the one who ministers in bringing this great Good News to us, and setting them up on a pedestal as idols to be worshiped.  It is no stealing of God’s glory to acknowledge one’s role.  If you have been used by God to achieve some end, then praise God!  But should thanks be given you, there’s no cause for pious self-demeaning.  A simple, “you’re welcome,” will suffice.  But where it veers into adoration or idolization?  By all means, should that be your situation, set things straight.  I rather doubt, though, that this is an issue that plagues many of us.

Let me get back, though, to this matter of change, of turning away or around.  I have said it was not something we can achieve on our own, and I find that statement enforced by our passage.  “You turned to God from idols,” it is true.  But how?  Jesus, whom He raised from the dead, delivers us.  Yes, that is pointing to ultimate results in this case, a deliverance from the wrath to come.  But how has that deliverance been achieved?  He turned us around.  He got us off the course we were on, and onto the Way that leads to home, to Him.  And that matter of deliverance is a powerful matter.  He forcibly drew us out of our darkness, off our chosen way, and more or less pushed us onto the Way, and into the light of life.  He made the change in us which enabled our turning.  He has been at work in us, from that moment, and even from before that moment, to bring about such a change in us that we might live not merely having a vague resemblance to our Lord, but a true resemblance.  He has been reforming us daily, renewing us daily, in order that not merely our outward appearance, but our inward, core character would come to bear true resemblance to Him, being in harmony with Him.  That is what we are looking at in this matter of being imitators.  It’s not that we’re aping His ways, play acting at something we don’t really understand.  No.  We are becoming like Him as to how we see things, how we respond to things, how we address things.

This was ever the way of the disciple.  If you were the disciple of some rabbi, it was a matter of learning his ways, his thinking, and fashioning your own after his example.  If you were a follower of some Greek philosopher, it was no different.  Their methodologies may have differed.  Their way of presenting truths and morals and such may have differed.  And certainly, the content of their instruction differed.  But the expectation really did not.  The student was there precisely to become like his teacher, so far as he was able.  So it is with us in Christ.  We have come to the Teacher.  We have been made His disciples.  Our purpose henceforth is to become as much like Him as to our thought and habit as we are capable of becoming.  And our capability is vastly enhanced by the reality of His indwelling presence.  Our capability is powered by this:  “It is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure” (Php 2:13). 

He drew us forcibly out of our darkness.  He saved us in spite of our total lack of interest in being saved, and total lack of awareness that there was even a need to be saved.  He hauled us out bodily into light  and life, and praise be to Him for it!  If indeed you are a Christian, this is your story.  If indeed you are a Christian there should surely be something in the example of these Thessalonians that resonates, not as convicting but as confirming.  This is our story.  To the degree that it is not, by all means, let us repent of our reversion to abnormal and get back on course.  But be not dismayed.  He who as called you is faithful.  This is your story.  You have been changed.  You are, as God works in you, coming to resemble Him more.  Only give heed to His working in you, and seek to join Him in what He is doing.  To live in harmony with He Who delivers is surely more peaceable, more restful, more joyful, than kicking against the goads.

Compare and Contrast (05/01/22-05/02/22)

We have looked at this matter of turning around.  Let us consider briefly the from and the to of it.  You turned to God.  In doing so, you rather necessarily turned from idols.  This wasn’t just adding another god to your collection.  This was a change of allegiances.  You no longer serve them.  You serve Him.  And though not said explicitly, the fact that you serve Him alone is implicit in that turning. 

So, what were these idols?  Paul doesn’t really enter into that question here, primarily because he has no particular need to do so.  They have turned, and there isn’t any question of them turning back once more; not this church, not at this time.  Their faith is fervent and alive, so very much so that it is news known to the surrounding regions.  But these idols they used to serve:  These were the gods of Greece, and perhaps of other regions as well.  In many cases, if not most, the idols they served had physical objects representing the so-called god.  One could find statues of Zeus and Ares and the others.  Now, let us be clear.  These folks were not so dim that they were worshiping these works of stone as being something empowered to aid them.  It was the powers represented in those works.  Those powers presented as gods, but as is made clear elsewhere, they are in fact demons.  They are spiritual beings, yes, but created as are we.  They are more powerful than we are in and of ourselves, and they have this urge to be held in awe by the likes of us.  It has been thus since there was a creation, all the way back to Adam.  It continues so in our day, as the ostensibly enlightened and ever so advanced society in which we live seems ever more inclined to stick little buddha statues around the place.

And that’s only the most visible form of idolatry.  We’re so advanced we don’t even pretend our idols are gods – at least not consciously.  Yet, if one considers the influence of these idolatrous practices, it’s quite clear that man has not outgrown religion, only dumbed it down and disguised it.  When one sees signs in the yard announcing, ‘In Fauci we trust,’ this is more than posturing, more than an attempted bit of wit.  It has become a religious statement.  We could say the same of those, “in this house we believe” signs.  But take the signs away, and still the idolatry is present.  Be it in the form of pursuing wealth, the form of hedonistic pursuit of a life of leisure, the form of excess concern about sports, or some artist, or trees.  When Calvin observed that we are, in effect, little idol factories, he was onto something.  But it wasn’t anything new.  God’s been observing the same point forever.

Now, these had turned from idols.  Hopefully, we can say the same, although I suspect that both they and we discovered the battle wasn’t quite so over as we might have supposed.  These demons behind the idols have their way of slipping back into place if we are not on our guard.  But enough of them for the moment.  What had they turned to, or Whom?  “You turned to God.”

Consider just for a moment the significance of that simple declaration.  Paul does not need to say something like, ‘the God Yahweh’, or ‘the God of Israel’.  For one, so far as geo-political Israel was concerned, what they worshiped was no longer God, but rather an idol they had fashioned  They did not go in for images in worship, so there was no statue to bow down to.  But there was this false piety of the Pharisees.  There was this idol of the Traditions.  But Paul says simply, “You turned to God.”  There is an insistence on singularity in that simple statement.  His name is the very concept.  He is God.  All that is contained in the idea of god is Him.  All that can be properly construed as god is Him.  He is alone in His godness.  There can be no other.

There was much that Judaism got right, and this was assuredly chief amongst the list:  The Lord your God, He is One.  He is not a god amongst gods.  He is not the local deity, with no greater and no less validity than, say, Baal of the Amorites, or Zeus of the Greeks.  No, He is alone in this position.  He is God not merely of Israel, but of all.  The whole business of Israel’s departure from Egypt was assertion of this very point.  The so-called gods of Egypt lay in ruins.  They had attempted to oppose God on their own turf, and they had lost.  They had lost most profoundly.

Why?  Well, as with all these false gods, they made the claim, but they lacked the reality.  Over against this, Paul amplifies a point about this God who is so uniquely God that He need specify no further name to identify Himself.  He is ‘a living and true God’.  Now, I feel I must point out that there is no indefinite article present in the Greek, nor could there be, for the language does not admit of such a thing.  We are, however, presented with God apart from the definite article in this instance.  It was present in the initial clause.  “You turned to the God from the idols.”  Here, we have a dative clause, which lends purpose or cause to that turning.  You turned in order to, or such that you now serve God, living and true.  Admittedly, the definite article is not present here, but I expect, rather like John 1:1, it is inherent in the statement.  There’s a technical term for this bit of syntax, but I’ve forgotten it.  So, rather than the phrasing of the NASB, let me stick with the more direct flavor.  He is God, living and true.

Now, those two descriptors are rather powerful in what they convey about God.  He is living.  He is not object fabricated by man.  He is no mythological creation from man’s imagination, either.  He is living.  Indeed, He is Life.  He is the Life.  You may recall Jesus saying as much.  “I am the way, the truth, and the life  No one comes to the Father but through Me” (Jn 14:6).  “I am the resurrection and the life.  He who believes in Me shall live even if he dies” (Jn 11:25).  “I give eternal life to them, and they shall never perish.  And no one shall snatch them out of My hand” (Jn 10:28).  We need to continue that last.  “My Father gave them to Me, and He is greater than all.  No one is able to snatch them out of His hand.”  And this, most of all!  “I and the Father are One” (Jn 10:29-30).

That singularity of the Godhead has not been dispensed with.  There is not second or third God being posited in the Trinity.  It is a Tri-Unity, one, singular God in three Persons, each Person wholly God of wholly God, and the three Persons so singularly united as to be inseparable.  And this inseparable fellowship in its own way defines the Godhead.  It makes more evident the utter perfection of His being, Who lacks for nothing in Himself, has absolutely no dependency on any outside agency.  And that includes our belief in Him.  God does not need our worship.  But our worship is very much His due.

He is the living God.  Let me come back to that.  Jesus did, addressing questions about resurrection.  “‘I AM the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob’  He is not the God of the dead but of the living” (Mt 22:30).  Yes, that has more to do with the state of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, but God remains AM, is, present tense alive.  That, however, would not set Him apart from the claims of idols.  They, too, could be said to represent beings which were, in their own way, alive.  But here’s a distinction.  God IS Life.  To borrow from Zhodiates’ discussion of this term, living, all living beings other than God derive their life from Him.  Paul had made this very point in trying to present God to the philosophers up in Athens.  Here was the answer to their deep questions.  “In Him we live and move and have our being” (Ac 17:28).  What was the point he was making?  “Being then the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the divine nature is like gold, silver, or stone, some image that can be formed by the art and thought of man” (Ac 17:29).  Turn from your idols to the living and true God!

You can see that this thought is still with him as he writes to his friends in Thessalonica.  He is the living God, the very source of life.  All other life derives life from Him.  “I AM the Life!”  All these other idols, whatever the claims of their religious followers, could offer nothing but death, for all that they have on offer is rebellion against the living and true God, the Creator of all that is.  “All things came into being by Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being.  In Him was life, and the life was the light of men” (Jn 1:1-4).  Here, John has set Jesus before us as that Word who was with God and was God.  “He was in the beginning with God.”  All that lives, that ever has lived, or ever shall, derives life from Him.  Let Him but turn aside for the briefest moment, and all life fails.

As it happens, I was watching an old Dr. Who episode this last week.  In this episode, the Doctor (in three persons, interestingly enough) encounters another timelord, one long thought dead, and in fact, the one who had given that race the power to traverse time.  He is, however, bitter and vengeful, as he has been trapped in this world caught in a black hole, where all that exists does so solely by the exercise of his will.  He makes a point rather akin to that made in regard to God.  Should he cease to exercise his will for but the briefest moment, the whole fabric of this realm he had carved out for himself would collapse, the impossible coexistence of matter and antimatter returning to impossibility by route of annihilation.  You can’t look at that plotline and fail to see reference back to these very ideas that belong to God alone.  Here’s the difference.  This renegade founder of the timelords expired, along with his impossible realm.  His vengeance was averted.  God faces no such threat.  There can be no such threat.  When He declares that everything that lives depends utterly upon Him for life, it is at once a declaration of deepest, most profound truth, and, for the believer, an equally deep and profound comfort.  He does not turn aside.  He is not an absentee God, who created this mess and left it to sort itself out if it could.  He remains intimately involved in His creation, and He will do for all eternity.

Now, we can add to this matter of being the very source and substance of life to the matter of being true.  How I love the power of this word!  Thayer really brings it out (though I fear I have probably misattributed the definition to Zhodiates on occasion).  It sticks with a person.  This matter of truth is a matter of something more than resemblance.  It’s far more than having the name of the idea at hand.  It is a correspondence of outward appearance and inward state in every respect.  It is real, genuine.  It is true.  And that is what we have declared of God.  He doesn’t just appear to be god-like.  He IS God.  He doesn’t just make claims to god-like powers.  He IS Life.  He IS eternal.  He IS the creator of all that is.  He IS all-powerful, unopposable, unchanging God.  There is no other.  So it has ever been and ever shall be.  “To you it was shown that you might know that the LORD, He is God.  There is no other besides Him” (Dt 4:35).  “He is God in heaven above, and on the earth below.  There is no other” (Dt 4:39).  And the point repeats.  “I am the LORD, and there is no other.  Besides Me there is no God.  I will gird you though you have not known Me; that men may know from the rising to the setting of the sun that there is no one besides Me.  I am the LORD, and there is no other” (Isa 45:5-6).  What a passage!  He is, by His own declaration, “The One forming light and creating darkness, causing well-being and creating calamity.  I am the LORD who does all these” (Isa 45:7).  “Woe to the one who quarrels with his Maker – an earthenware vessel among the vessels of earth!  Will the clay say to the potter, ‘What are you doing?’  Will the thing you are making say, ‘He has no hands’?” (Isa 45:9).  I could go on, but I’d be lost on the sidetrack.

You have turned to serve the God Who Is, the only God Who truly Is.  You have come to serve the very source of Life.   And you are serving Him in truth.  You are no Christians in name only.  You are as real and genuine in your faith as He is in His godhead.  That is evident.  It is so evident, the outward form so fully representative of this inward change, that, “They themselves report about us what impact our ministry has had with you.”  It can’t be hidden, the change is so profound, so thoroughgoing, so vigorously embraced.

This great change is assuredly ours if we are indeed in Christ, and it is assuredly for His glory.  It serves His purpose in us, that we, having been called of the Lord, and having been indwelt by the Holy Spirit of God Himself, become living testimonies to what He has done and is doing.  In living out our faith we are as living billboards for Christ, or if you prefer the more biblical image, lighthouses shining out God’s love and truth into the darkened world around us.  Now, I would have to note, with that image, that whereas a wise captain or navigator takes heed of the lighthouse, and is warned away from hidden dangers by it, others may find the light an annoyance that disrupts their sleep.  The lighthouse is just as purposeful in both cases, and the light a true warning of danger in both cases.  But the condition of the one observing that light significantly shifts the response to it.  Where there is understanding there will be thankful heeding of its message.  Where there is a clinging to comfort there will be aggravation.  What makes the difference?  In this case, God.  Where He is at work, the change is welcomed, the warnings against sin and the offer of righteousness are gratefully received.  Where He is not, news of sin and sin’s consequences raise up not a desire for repentance, but a wrathful rejection of any call for change.

I think that in its own way that wrathful rejection in the unbeliever is a foretaste of the wrathful rejection they shall have at His coming.  And that thought brings me round to the other part of Paul’s comment here.  News traveled, as to how they had become inclined to wait for the return of Christ from heaven, and why?  Because He whom God had raised from the dead rescues us from that wrath to come.  How is this achieved?  But putting to death in us that rebel heart which clings to sin, and creating in us a heart of godliness.  Later in this letter, Paul explains it thusly:  “God has not destined us for wrath, but for salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1Th 5:9).  Now, there will be those whose teeth are set on edge by the introduction of this idea of destiny, and in fairness, I’m one of them.  It’s well and good, even necessary, to acknowledge that this Sovereign God, who created all things and has the only full and proper dominion over all that He has created, is indeed the disposer and arranger of all that He creates.  He has the right and the power.  He establishes the course of man, even as man considers his footsteps.  Yet, it is not as that Greek conception of fate as the irresistible machinations of a chaotic overlord.  Notice how Solomon describes this relationship.  Man plans his ways, but the Lord directs his steps (Pr 16:9). Indeed, it is later written that the Lord ordains a man’s steps (Pr 20:24), with the attendant question, how then can man understand his way?

I shall save serious consideration of that proverb and its apparently unanswered question for another time, Lord willing.  What I would have us see here is that while God is assuredly in the driver’s seat, and His will is most assuredly irresistible, yet He does not so force us down the path of His choosing that we are utterly devoid of anything like free will.  Were that the case we should be puppets with no moral agency and therefore no responsibility for our actions.  Judas would have been just as righteous in his betrayal of Jesus as was Jesus in His obedience to the whole of the Law.  And that is quite plainly not the case.  We remain responsible for our choices and in control of our choices.  Pharaoh may have been pressured by those circumstances he brought upon himself in his rebellious defiance of God, but he chose defiance.  It is a difficult thing to explore, isn’t it?  It could have been no other way, and God’s plan and purpose to redeem Israel out of her slavery could not have failed.  He hardened Pharaoh’s heart, He tells us, to ensure that Pharaoh would not repent.  And we look upon this and think, how cruel of God to so condemn this man who might otherwise have been redeemed himself.  But he wouldn’t have been.  God did not force him to follow his own nature.  At worse, He refused to counteract the natural will of the man.

We are not puppets controlled by the strings of fate.  But we are assuredly fully subject to God’s overriding providence.  The blessed positive side of this is assurance.  We can proceed through life, with all our inevitable failures and shortcomings, our sins, knowing this:  God has not destined us for wrath, but for salvation.  How?  Through our Lord Jesus Christ!  Paul, by the time he wrote to Rome’s church, had developed this understanding rather significantly.  To them, he writes, “Having been justified by His blood, we shall assuredly be saved from the wrath of God through Him” (Ro 5:9).  It’s not our subsequent obedience, such as it is, which has brought us safe to heaven.  No.  It is His blood.  It is the atonement of the Eternal Son, shed on our behalf, and applied to our criminal record by the decree of the Father.  This alone can answer for our crimes, and for the redeemed, it has.  He rescues us, draws us out of the danger forcibly.  The point is made as a present participle, a stative condition for the believer.  This is our present and continued condition, and its continuation is permanent as He is permanent.

“He has delivered us from the domain of darkness” (there’s that lighthouse image again) “and transferred us to the kingdom of His beloved Son.  Christ’s atonement has delivered us from eternal punishment” (Col 1:13).  Such rich imagery there!  Again, we have this forceful rescue of deliverance.  He has wrested us bodily out of the domain of darkness.  Let us understand that this is not Jesus paying off the devil to gain possession of us.  No.  He owes the devil nothing and will give the devil nothing.  The debt we owed, that unbearable weight of sin against eternal God, is due God, not the jailkeeper.  But God has determined our transfer.  He, the Father, has delivered us, pulled us out of our imprisonment by main force.  Think Peter’s escape from jail, kicked to wakefulness by the angel sent for that purpose.  Get moving, boy.  Snap out of it!  Remaining was not an option.  So it is when God delivers us.  Remaining is not an option.  Yet, at the same time, the choice is freely made.  Of course, seeing liberty set before us, we will tend to choose that over continued imprisonment.  One supposes even the most hardened criminal would do so, although I’ve known those who would, upon release, seemingly choose a course determined to get them back inside the cell.  But for most, the choice would be obvious, once the choice is a real and present option.

So, get this.  The Father delivered you out of darkness, and by His choice, set you up in the kingdom of the Son.  He transferred ownership of you.  As Dylan so famously said, everybody serves somebody.  No man is truly free, whatever power and wealth he may obtain in this life.  Let him even come to the end of his earthly days, and still he will find he has not in fact been free all his life.  No, there is One to whom he must answer, and that One will have answer from him, and demand satisfaction.  By right, God has full and just cause to demand satisfaction of every human being who has ever lived, for all have sinned, all have fallen short of the glory of God.  That is the clear and unequivocal declaration of the court of heaven.  And man, finite being that he is, is incapable of paying his debt to heavenly society, even should he find it in himself to be willing.  The debt is beyond him.  Even those who, at Christ’s return in judgment, discover themselves on the wrong side, and destined for eternal punishment, shall not find that at some point their punishment has been sufficient.  It’s not some Limbo entered into for a season until their bills are paid.  It is hell.  It is an eternal paying of an eternal bill, a sentence which admits of no end, for the crime for which they must pay is committed against eternal God.

Now, we are bothered by the idea of a wrathful God.  We read John’s message that God is Love (1Jn 4:16), and we want to stop there.  Indeed, in our thinking I suspect the order gets reversed, if not the actual wording, and we come to conclude that love is God.  But that’s not some singular, exclusively defining feature of God, apart from which there can be no other.  No.  He is honest enough about it, but perhaps we relegate His self-description as applying to who He was before the advent of Christ.  We have already looked at it in this study.  “I AM the one who brings calamity.”  In God, Love and Wrath coexist in perfection.  Mercy and Justice are held perfectly, and perfectly in balance.  The God we meet in the Old Testament is still God in the New Testament, and being Unchanging, He has not changed.  Wrath is still there, just as Love was there throughout the Old Testament period. 

God’s wrath, though is not capricious in application.  It’s not petty annoyance.  It is the express punishment that comes about as sin’s due.  Some will taste of that punishment in this life in significant ways, and others but lightly.  Yet, all will taste it.  Even those who find themselves called up into heaven at the last trumpet call will yet taste that punishment in the degree that their sinful bodies shall be shed.  Death is, after all, a product of sin.  Sickness is a product of sin.  That is not to say that if we could just find the right sin to repent of our sickness would dissipate.  There’s no such guarantee offered.  What is offered is this:  Life; real life worthy of being called life, and given unto eternity.  The punishment which is God’s wrath comes as sin’s due.  Our life comes as a gift freely given, bought and paid for in the blood of Christ, who died sinless on behalf of sinful man, that we might, through His obedience, become the righteousness of God (2Co 5:21).  God, from before the beginning, conceived this plan, agreed to in perfect concord by the Persons of His being, by which to achieve pardon, judicial righteousness, for all whom He would call His own, without doing violence to Justice.  He has, throughout this whole work of redemptive history, demonstrated just how perfectly He contains Mercy and Justice, Love and Wrath; that He, the Father, might be Just and the Justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus (Ro 3:26).

Now, I set the title of this portion as, ‘Compare and Contrast’.  Well, do so!  Look at what it is that God has done in Christ; done for Himself, assuredly, but done for you.  These idols you served, whatever their form and whatever their claimed promises, fall far short, don’t they?  The don’t offer peace with the God Who Is, certainly, nor even with the demonic false god they represent.  They offer, perhaps, a truce.  In reality, they more demand tribute.  Like any conquering power, they demand payment, they demand to profit from your misery, else you shall know the full force of their wrath.  It is extortion of the worst sort.  Pay up or die.  Those are your options.  But in due course, you discover that in reality there was no or in that equation.  Pay up or not.  Either way you die.

And over against that we discover the living and true God, the One who truly has power to restore real life in you, life such that even should you die physically yet you will live spiritually.  This is life that admits of no end, for there is no end.  This is an eternity spent free of any fear of God’s court, for you have already faced trial, already confessed your sins, and already heard your Attorney turn to the record books and observe that the penalty has been paid in full already.  You are free to go, to live, and sin no more.

I am mindful of that imagery seen in Paul’s letter to the Colossians.  Our certificate of debt has been canceled, taken out of the way, nailed to the cross (Col 2:14).  That imagery speaks of a record of debt being utterly erased, no longer able to be brought up again.  In the books of heaven, that crime and its penalty have been blotted out, so fully removed from the record that they cannot any longer be seen.  It was nailed to the cross, again a marker of debt publicly declared paid in full, the hole through its record a clear and incontrovertible marker of that fact.  And the cross, dear ones, is in the past.  Debt paid in full already, all record of the cause for that debt eradicated.  “Who will bring a charge against God’s elect?  God is the one who justifies!” (Ro 8:33).  The record has been removed.

Perhaps, then, I am wrong to suppose we shall face that agony of confession when we come to His throne.  Perhaps we shall discover, to our own surprise, that in fact there remains no record to answer to.  Perhaps.  But I am mindful of Jesus’ lesson that we shall give answer for every idle word that escapes our mouths, and I dare say, those that didn’t but were still loose in the wilds of thought.  Whether, then, the case be that we find ourselves free and clear on arrival, or whether we must first give account for ourselves before hearing with welcome but overwhelming relief that our Attorney declares for the record that all these myriad crimes have already been paid for in full, I cannot with any reliability answer.  But what comes after, to that I can speak.  We shall be given entrance into an eternity with Christ Jesus as our Lord and our Sun.  We shall find ourselves at last in the place where all the effects of sins past have been washed away, all the regrets and ruefulness erased, and all the temptations which so readily beset us in former days completely, permanently absent.  And before us, in this blessed state, we shall find our home prepared for us by our loving Lord, and our inheritance, having been kept safe, set at our disposal, to be enjoyed in the courts of the King forever and ever.  Amen!  So be it, Lord.  Even so, come quickly!

They Confessed (05/03/22)

The power of this first chapter is compacted into the fact that the Thessalonians believed, and their belief in the truth of the Gospel was evident.  They really believed it.  They really lived it.  This faith that had come to them by the ministry of Paul and his companions was not just another fad.  It was not just one more god that they gave minimal acknowledgement.  They had changed, or been changed.  They no longer lived after that fashion they had previously.  There had been a profound effect upon them.  Those who knew them could hardly be expected not to notice.  But those who had only met them after the change found it equally clear.  These men and women are not like others we have met in this city or even in the region.  And if asked for a reason to explain their difference, they gladly told.

For all we know, they were telling the news of this Gospel even before being asked.  That’s not something that can be ruled out.  But the larger point is that however it was they came to be speaking of faith, of Christ, and of how news of God’s gracious gift had come to them by the word and example of Paul, Silas, and Timothy, they did not hold back.  They did not remain silent or evasive, fearing rejection or worse from those they told.  They did not find cause for concern that perhaps report of their new allegiance to this Jesus fellow might be reported back to Rome, and not in terms designed to make it welcome news.  This, too, must have led to questions.  I mean, even the zealots, the Sicarii, back when Jesus was about, had apparently enough sense to remain mostly unknown to those outside their group.  Exposure could be dangerous, even deadly.  History shows the same held true for the Christian, though he posed no real threat to the empire, nor to anybody.

So, they believed, and believing, they changed, and changed, they confessed, and they confessed gladly.  The joy of their faith was as evident as anything else about it.  Our mission team just returned from a trip to Zambia, and what was a key factor in their review of that time?  These people were joyful!  The snippets of video brought back demonstrate the truth of it.  They didn’t just trudge off to church to fulfill a weekly obligation.  They entered joyfully in.  They sang joyfully to their God.  He hadn’t, certainly by our standards, showered them with riches, or set them in fertile lands, each with his own fig tree.  But there was joy in the Lord, contagious joy.

Whatever, then, this Paul fellow had been preaching, it had clearly taken hold with them, and it had just as clearly had a very real, a truly profound impact on them.  They believed, and it showed.  That’s the thing.  It wasn’t just their passing attempts at evangelizing.  It was the evidence of lives lived out.  They didn’t just pay it lip service, this newfound faith.  They lived it.  They put it into practice.  Now, I don’t think they were alone in this.  If one encountered a Stoic or a follower of Plato or Socrates, I suspect you’d find a similar commitment to lifestyle.  That was, after all, part of the deal with signing on to follow some teacher or other.  Jesus was not unique in this, nor His disciples unique in making such a commitment.

But here’s something rather unique.  Paul came with the same free offer as had been given him.  He didn’t charge for the privilege of coming under his tutelage.  There was no entrance fee to keep the ministry going.  Nothing of that!  Now, granted, they had observed others come by from Philippi to bring support to this man as he continued his ministry, but they had just as clearly observed that this gift had not come in response to demand or even request, but wholly as a voluntary matter of support.  The effect had been profound on Philippi, and it was profound on the Thessalonians.  They, too, were becoming known for a similar generosity of spirit and of hospitality.

We don’t think of hospitality as that big a deal, I don’t think.  But it is.  Our New England nature may argue against the idea.  We are, after all, a relatively taciturn and individualistic sort, by and large.  Oh, we’ll have our socialization, but preferably in controlled circumstances, and preferably either with the lightness of say, a grange hall dinner, or with the seriousness of coming together to get some particular task done.  Even in our churches, this is felt.  We may sit close to others – yes, even after the business of Covid, although it has strained things somewhat – but we sit in our isolated enclaves all the same.  Our interactions are at a minimum, perhaps sparing a handshake for a particular few.  It’s not a class thing.  It’s just that we tend toward small, tight circles of associates.  And I, introvert that I am, am probably worse than many in that regard.  But I think maybe I’m getting just that little bit better at this.

But for this church in Thessalonica, hospitality was a trademark, practically.  It was part of what people noticed.  There was an openness, a welcoming into the home, and into the gathering of the elect.  Visitors noticed such things.  Some of those visitors, as I had observed in considering the church in Colossae, may have been rather stretched as to their finances as they traveled.  Whether by ship or by caravan along the Via Ignatia, one didn’t generally make their way for free, and those who ran the transport system were not necessarily the most honest and congenial sort.  It required hard men to provide protection as one traveled, but hard men could often prove as dangerous in themselves as were those from whom they were to protect you.  So, an open home, a welcome to a shared hearth and table would be welcome indeed.  And it would be remembered.  It would be remembered fondly, and it would be commented upon, particularly to those who were fellow believers that had cause to travel through that place.

We have our tales of hobo signage, little marks left about to inform other indigent travelers of conditions in the area.  Here there be guard dogs.  Here is a family who will provide room and a meal if you will offer some labor in return.  This was something similar.  When you get to Thessalonica, look up so and so.  They are fellow believers and they will make you welcome, and see you cared for.  They really believed.  They really lived the life of faith, doing unto others as they would have done unto them.

And observe this, as well.  There was content in this report beyond noting Paul’s involvement, and noting an end to idolatry.  The NLT is particularly good in bringing this out.  “And they speak of how you are looking forward to the coming of God's Son from heaven.”  Now, some commentaries have taken this as evidence that Paul’s message in these early days had focused more on Christ’s return than on His death and resurrection.  But in fairness, without the latter, the former is meaningless.  And frankly, his preaching in Corinth, where he says he determined to know only Christ, and Him crucified (1Co 2:2), was, for all intents and purposes, concurrent with his preaching to them.  It had been what?  A few months?  Events in Athens had not led him to devise a different message, a different gospel.  They had, if anything, led him to return to simply presenting the gospel as he had before.

Now, we know that this focus on Christ’s return came to be almost unhealthy.  Some became so focused on that imminent return that they fell slack in looking to the present.  They became idle, and becoming idle, they began again to serve an idol.  I think of those who settled their encampment up on the southern shores of Lake Winnipesauke, so as to be there waiting when Christ returned.  They’re still there.  They’re still, I must suppose, waiting.  But they seem to have learned a few important lessons; lessons like, when Jesus said you won’t know date certain, He meant it; lessons like, while you are waiting, stay busy.  See to your own support and that of your family.  See also to the matter of ministering to the world around you.  You weren’t left here to hide away.  You were left here to shine out by your report and your example, to make known this Jesus whom you serve.

And that leads me to a question that keeps arising as I look at this shining epistle.  What would others report as to the impact of Christ on our church family here?  When visitors come amongst us, do they find hospitable welcome, or do they find the more typically stony New England nod, acknowledging that here is another human, but really nothing beyond that?  Do we suppose our programs impress?  I suspect at this particular church there may have been a time when yes, we did actually suppose just that thing.  I hear tales of the past here, how powerful the women’s ministry, or the children’s ministry, or the worship ministry used to be.  Oh, we had folks coming from far and wide to be part of it.  Yes?  And to what degree were lives changed by it?  To what degree was the Gospel made known to those who previously had not known?  To what degree was hospitality so evident among us that when visitors departed they carried news of us to their friends?  I don’t know.  I wasn’t there.  But that’s not an aspect of these programs that I hear spoken about.  Rather, it’s the professionalism, or the scale.  And I’m sorry, but largely, my reaction is, who cares?  Numbers aren’t the deal.  Warmth and reality of confession are.

I recall our own first coming to this church, and an almost immediate invitation to dine at the home of one of its members.  Fellowship!  It made an impression.  There were meals of an evening where a fairly random selection of individuals would come together and get to know one another.  Fellowship!  Now, our primary effort appears to be a monthly post-service gathering for lunch.  Fellowship?  Not by my definitions, no.  Too big, too noisy, too shallow.  But it’s an attempt.  Perhaps it will produce something more real in time.  Or perhaps it will displace what could otherwise be real.  I don’t know.

But let’s get personal.  What of me?  Would others who come to know me report of the impact of Christ on my life?  I suppose I could largely shorten that question to, would others come to know me?  I am, after all, fairly isolationist, particularly in my present way of life.  I don’t go to an office.  I don’t even work in the same time zone as I live.  I speak to others very briefly, without benefit of visuals, and with little by way of socialization.  Time does not permit, nor the company pay for such things.  There are occasional moments, generally of a shallow sort of conversation.  Oh, where do you live?  You used to live down here?  How long ago?  Oh my!  I wasn’t even born then!  Yes, those comments have been made, and they are accurate.  Very occasionally, I become privy to some discussion that deserves a bit of elder advice, as it were.  I do feel, as I often do in other situations, the need to counsel a bit of balance; less so in this particular gig, I must say, but the necessity for counsel, at least from my perception, remains.  When I see the young father seemingly sacrificing his time with the new child because work gets in the way, I can speak from experience and remind him to value this time better, as it truly is fleeting.  When a young coworker tells me how he’s moving away from his wife for a year to be nearer to the office, I come close to shouting, “Danger, Will Robinson!”  This is highly unlikely to turn out well.  I’ve seen too many wreck their lives by just such choices.  Some survive, but not without significant challenge, and I dare say, not without Christ.

But do I move to the point of bringing Christ into it?  Do they know I’m a Christian?  I rather doubt it, honestly.  When I was in the office, and had a regular circle of associates, it was perhaps more evident, at least to some.  But in this present setting, I just don’t see the occasion for that depth of discussion.  I recall the man who was my boss for a season, a fellow believer and confessedly so.  He would keep a bible on the corner of his desk.  It was just there.  He didn’t push the subject, but should questions be asked (as he hoped they would), he would make opportunity – off the clock opportunity – to answer them.  Now, I have to say, reports I’ve had of him in subsequent years were not exactly flattering as to his commitment to godly living, but then, I expect the same could be said of me.

I think, also, of the young IT guy who worked on that job.  He never spoke of faith.  But he had a poster on his cubicle wall offering definition of what it meant to be a Christian engineer.  And he was always gracious in his dealings with us.  And frankly, being gracious to an engineer suffering IT problems is a testimony in itself.  We are not the easiest people to deal with when the infrastructure is getting in our way.  So, yes, I would give a report of that young man that his faith was evident.  I don’t know how he came to faith, nor even to what denomination he belonged.  But that he had Christ in his life was clear enough.

But no, I don’t suppose others would necessarily report of the impact Christ has had on my life.  Most would not know me well enough to formulate such a report.  Some might.  Some might see a bit too much, and wonder if claims of faith were indeed factual.  I cannot say.  I can say that nobody has ever come to the point of suggesting my claims of faith were nonsense.  They may not think much of faith, but I don’t think anybody would say my claims of belief were obviously falsified.  I don’t suppose I am Christian in name only.  There are times when it almost feels that way to me, and that concerns me, scares me, even.  But I know whom I have believed in, that He has able to save me, and not only able.  He has done it.  It is finished!  What He began in me, He will assuredly see brought to completion.  That is the promise of the Gospel.  And I know He began it.  I know beyond all doubt that my coming to faith was no temporary emotional response.  I know that my continuance in faith is far more than a mere intellectual exercise, subscribing to a philosophy that barely touches on life as I live it.  But there is that evangelistic fervor, that hungry desire to express hospitality that I do not find in me, and as I have attempted to show here, hospitality is clearly a key tool supplied by the gifts of the Spirit for the purpose of bearing witness to our hospitable God.

What shall I say, Father?  I don’t even see the opportunities, really, to express hospitality in this present stage of life.  Yet, I am sure there are such opportunities.  Open my eyes to them.  Let me breach the shell of my inherent introversion to reach out to those new to me in the church.  Let me know a willingness to answer the sorts of questions that present opportunity for Your Gospel to be heard.  There is much yet in need of change in me, isn’t there?  Find me willing, Father.  So work in me that I may not only be willing to the change, but working on the change.  I would not have this question hanging over me all my days, though if I’m honest, the idea of change rather scares me.  But You will be with me.  You will be in the change, and I would be in You, so, even so, Father, let it be done to me as You would.  Amen.