Apostles (10/21/22)

I am only going to touch on this very briefly, as I have often enough undertaken considerations of the question of apostleship, and how or if it is to be applied to other than the thirteen men appointed for the establishing of God’s church at the outset.  Given my views, and those views being fairly common amongst proponents of sound theology, it is a bit jarring to hear Paul speak, as it seems, of his whole team as apostles of Christ here.  What is not surprising is that various of our commentaries find it something to address.  What’s going on here?  Paul is an Apostle, certainly, but Silas and Timothy?  On what basis?  Where is the evidence of their training by Christ personally?  Where is their claim to having known of Him from the outset of His ministry?  Silas might perhaps have been able to make such claim, but Timothy?  So far as we know, his first awareness of Christianity came of Paul’s visit to the regions of southern Asia Minor.

A few explanations are on offer by our sources.  First, Barnes suggests that while this is presented in the plural, Paul is actually speaking solely of himself.  This is something we are familiar with in the usage that we might speak of as the royal we, and that’s certainly something Paul uses on occasion.  In other words, though speaking solely of himself, he might utilize a plural pronoun to reference himself.  Fine.  I take his point, but I don’t recall him using this same approach with any other means of self-reference.  Perhaps I’m just not thinking hard enough to bring them to mind, but it doesn’t seem to me that the royal we style extends to nouns.  One might hear the king speak in the manner of, “We have decided.”  We might even hear him say, “Are we not the king?”  But, what you will not hear him say is, “Are we not kings?”, at least not unless he’s speaking to a group of peers who are in fact kings.  So, I have to say this explanation doesn’t really satisfy.

The JFB offers a different perspective, that indeed Paul’s plural pronouns do widen the scope to include Silas and Timothy, and so, really, throughout this section where he is presenting the legitimacy of their ministry.  That being the case, ‘apostles’ naturally applies not only to Paul, but to them as well.  And yet, the authors of the JFB are not about to suggest that these two were in fact of the same level of authority as Paul or Peter or John.  Not at all.  Rather, he takes it that the term is being used in a wider sense as would befit its wider application here.

This accords with my own recognition that the Scriptures have a two-tiered meaning in this word.  In its more technical, authority related significance, it would be restricted to those whom Christ Himself had appointed – personally – for the establishing of His Church.  These, I would account the uppercase Apostles.  But there is also that lowercase application of one sent on a specific mission with a specific message to a specific people.  Here, I would give it a sense more nearly matching our concept of the missionary.  The commissioning, in this instance, comes not from Christ directly, but from His church body.  Thus, early on, we have Paul and Barnabas commissioned by the church in Antioch to go to Cyprus as apostles of that church.  They were commissioned by that church, given their mission by that church.  Is it still Christ’s mission?  To be sure!  Just as it is His church.  But the commissioning is not that direct, live and in person, commissioning known by the Apostles of the uppercase sort.  Theirs was a special, significant, and unique authority; an authority which, by its nature is neither transferrable nor attainable today.

Now, as much as I lean towards this explanation, here’s where I run into a problem with it.  Paul speaks specifically of ‘apostles of Christ’.  They are not here as those commissioned directly by Christ.  They have the recommendation of their respective churches, yes.  And Paul, assuredly, could make claim to Apostleship proper, but the others are but apostles of the lowercase order, commissioned by their local bodies to join Paul in this mission.  All this being said, I must, in spite of the difficulties presented, maintain that the usage here, while applied to the three men together, remains of this less technical, more general nature.  Paul, if he was Apostle of the uppercase, was also an apostle of the lowercase.  And it is, perhaps, rather in keeping with the tone of this passage and its point that he sticks with that lowercase aspect in what he is saying here.

I have to note as well that he is speaking of apostleship with the direct purpose of discussing the authority of office, even though only for the purpose of observing how he set that authority aside, at least so far as its prerogatives are concerned.  If there is appeal to authority, does this not push us more firmly into the more technical and official sense of the term?  I fear it does.  I am not, I think, going to be able to come to an easy and satisfying conclusion here.  I am not ready to allow that the authority of which he speaks would in fact apply to Silas and Timothy except as a doubly delegated authority.  That is to say, Paul’s authority as Apostle is already delegated, resting as it must on Christ’s assigning of that authority.  Silas and Timothy, being as it were commissioned deputies of Paul, ministers he himself counted as tested and appointed, could be said to have a share in his authority, as he had so delegated that share to them. 

Does this idea leave open that every minister is thus a possessor of that same sort of delegated authority?  No.  No, it does not.  For one, this sort of delegation remains a matter of personal assignment.  The Apostles are not here to do the assigning, and on that basis, the assigning cannot be personal.  Neither, as is often pointed out, is any provision made in Scripture for that office and its authority to be continued in another generation subsequent to the passing of the Apostles.  Elders and pastors have their provisions for propagation.  Teachers can be trained, deacons raised up.  The church, once planted, is not left bereft of due authority when the Apostles and planters have moved on.  But those pastors and elders, even from the first, are not appointed as direct recipients of duly apportioned apostolic authority.  They have their own authority, likewise derived from the Head, Christ Jesus.  But it is not of the same authority as the Apostles.

I could look at examples where Paul’s coworkers were given instruction to appoint elders and pastors in the churches.  What we cannot say with absolute assurance is that they did so without input and participation from the church itself.  That may be my own experience, and the particular polity of those churches of which I have generally been part, rather than the clear and unmistakable teaching of Scripture explicitly.  But I suspect there was a more participatory process in this selection.  That is to say, I think we would find it had more in common with the congregational approach than that of the overseeing presbytery.  That, it seems to me, was a later development in the life of the Church, coming after the Apostolic age, and perhaps seeking to compensate for the loss of Apostolic authority as vested in men.

Do I reach a satisfying conclusion, then?  Not really.  But I am going to conclude anyway, as this section has already run longer than I had intended.  Suffice to say that whatever Paul’s intention here, it is not to apply Apostolic authority to his companions, except to the degree that they were his direct appointees and representatives.  Timothy, ministering among them at Paul’s behest, might be said to still carry some part of Paul’s authority with him, but not the true and full Apostolic authority.  And, as with any such servant, whether Apostle or apostle, that authority could only hold insofar as it was exercised with full and undeviating compliance with their commission.  This much, I dare say, we all share with them.  We, too, have authority, to the degree we have it, only so far as we exercise that authority in full accord with Christ, our authorizing agent.  And there I shall leave it.

Aletheia (10/22/22)

I observed in earlier notes that there is something of a chiastic organization to this part of the message, with the bookend thoughts of you know, and we proved.  There are a variety of ways one could view that connection.  You know that we proved to be.  You know how we proved to be.  Or more, you know because we proved.  And how is it that they proved?  They proved first because that which they had to say was true, and then second, because they lived and operated in a manner that was in harmony with what they said.  As we believed, so we lived.  There was none of the duplicity in them that one sees in those who would demand that you do as they say, not as they do.

Now let me buffer that just a bit.  I have little doubt that Paul and company were just as capable of slip-up as any other.  They were, after all, men such as ourselves.  To be sure, Paul had that authority of which we have just been talking, and with that authority the backing power of God.  Yet, it was not Paul that was inerrant.  It was God.  What sets the man of God apart is not his perfect compliance with every command of Scripture.  If that were the case, then we should have no need of Jesus, for man is able in himself.  No, but where the man of God errs, there comes correction; there comes a determination to set things right.  There is a desire for forgiveness, and a purposeful commitment to truly repent of that error.  This in itself is no assurance of success.  Some things take greater time and effort than others to reform.  But there is that trendline to the life of the believer that gives sound indication of belief.  There is evidence in the child of God that he is indeed God’s child.

Thus, what we come to here is, as Calvin observes, the claim of a true messenger.  This young church had received a true message delivered by men of integrity.  Their integrity was clearly seen in that they clearly lived as they believed, as they taught.  When message and example are thus in concord, it is a powerful and effective tool of ministry, and it sets those taught by it upon a firm foundation for faith.  Now, I have to say it somewhat surprises me to see Calvin point to this human example as firm foundation.  Jesus is our firm foundation of faith.  But it is much the same as what we were seeing in the previous verses.  “You became imitators of us and of the Lord” (1Th 1:6).  In imitating us, you are imitating the Lord, for that is the example we follow.  If, in our example, you have firm foundation in faith it is because our example comes of having a firm foundation for faith in Christ Himself.  We are, in the end, nothing.  We are but the conduit by which Christ has seen fit to deliver His message, His example, His Truth, that you might receive it.

You see, then, that there was a sincere humility in the manner of Paul’s preaching and ministering.  And that is something he speaks of in this passage.  He wasn’t after profit and he wasn’t after prestige.  The immediate results of his ministering were hardly the stuff of either, seeing it resulted in a life of hardships, of beatings and imprisonments and loneliness in many cases.  We find him cataloging his sufferings in another, later epistle, but that’s not to my purpose here.  It’s simply to say that the appeal he makes to his experiences here is directly to the point.  One after fame and fortune does not choose a course filled with such egregious sorrows.  You know this because you know us.  You know because we proved to be.

Now, this is an early letter from Paul, so far as we know, the earliest of his writings preserved to the Church.  But they are hardly the only place that he appeals to this harmony of message and life.  Indeed, in his second letter (as we account them anyway) to Corinth, there is much made of this same point.  We have renounced all that would be hidden for shame.  We don’t walk in craftiness and we don’t adulterate God’s word (2Co 4:2).  Thus, we commend ourselves to all men’s conscience by manifesting the truth in the sight of God.  This is such a potent claim, and potent primarily because it was true.  These men lived as manifesting the truth they taught.  That gets us to the term I have chosen to head this section of my notes:  Aletheia.  There is something in Zhodiates’ definition of this term that has stuck with me, really strikes home with the force of its meaning.  This is, he writes, “truth as the unveiled reality lying at the basis of and agreeing with the appearance, the manifested, the veritable essence of the matter.”

Can you feel the power of that?  Here truth is manifested.  Here the veritable essence is to be seen in the mundane of daily life.  Here, inward essence and outward behavior are in perfect harmony, perfect accord.  In the world of print and technology, we have that idea of WYSIWYG, or what you see is what you get.  No ornamentation, no post-processing that alters the result, nothing hidden away.  This is the value of true faith, and particularly so in that one who would be spokesman for the gospel, who is, I should say, appointed spokesman for the gospel.  What you see is what you get.  What you hear is what you see, and what you see is transparently the truth of the man.  And the truth of the man is the truth of the Gospel.  Where this holds, the power of God has hold, and the power of God will indeed manifest in fruitful ministry.  How could it not?

So, he says, “This is our bold confidence:  The testimony of conscience, that we have conducted ourselves in holiness and sincerity, not in fleshly wisdom but in the grace of God, especially towards you” (2Co 1:12).  Now, this is not to say that Paul was extra special careful in his interactions with this church as compared to others.  But they had needed far more of corrective ministry than others, and so, it was that much more critical in their case that this could be said.  “We speak sincerely, as from God.  We speak in Christ in the sight of God” (2Co 2:17b).  This was, and remains, critical to the successful preacher.  The world is full of those who have some message to peddle, some grand idea form which they hope to profit or make a name for themselves.  There are plenty of would-be stars out there.  Arguably, that’s about all we have left.  What’s with the rising tide of so-called influencers, except this urge to be a star?  What’s with most of social media, and the constant shouting of “look at me!” except this hunger for fame, or at least notoriety?  But I don’t wish to dwell too long on such thinking at present.

The ministry of the Gospel, suffice to say, is a much different matter.  The pastor doesn’t stand in the pulpit week after week saying, “Look at me!”  His mission is not to promote the idea that he’s really something.  He’s not in a popularity contest.  He’s not preaching in pursuit of a spot on American Idol.  Indeed, his purpose, if he be in Christ, is to crush every idol, first in his own life, but also in the lives of those to whom he would minister.  If he is counting on craftiness, on rhetorical arts and clever phrasing to make his way, he won’t get far.  Oh, he might make a name for himself well enough, for there are plenty who, as Paul warned, want little more than to have their ears tickled, and this is just the stuff for them.  But it is valueless, useless as to the saving of souls.  It delivers a warm fuzzy, but no life.

Compare and contrast.  “It was the sincere and uncorrupted gospel that he preached and exhorted them to believe and obey.”  Thus writes Matthew Henry.  Paul wasn’t after a following for himself.  He was after one thing, and one thing only:  That those to whom he ministered might develop a pure, undefiled faith in God, and only in God.  Nothing else would do.  Nothing else suffices to uphold a man.  Strength will fail, mental capacities will fade, and we know well enough how rapidly convictions, however strong in the moment, can be dispensed with.  Friends will prove fickle, and politicians?  Well!  When were they ever to be trusted?  No.  Name your support system, and you know as well as I that at some critical juncture, it will be found wanting.  Not so God.  Not so Jesus our Savior and our Lord.  He is unchanging.  He is perfect in power, in wisdom, in provision and care.  And He has you and I in hand, if indeed we are His.  And beloved, God does not lose sheep.  God does not lose period.

If we would do good in this world, we have but one thing to do, one tool to use.  Ironside observes that the gospel is the one and only message that we, as Christ’s servants, have to give this world.  You know, our modern preachers have been taught to bring clever examples, supporting narratives from life, by which to make their point.  Why, you can buy books full of clever illustrations to use in bringing the gospel to modern man.  You can buy translations that seek to phrase Scripture in the hip language of the present.  There may be use to such things, but they are nothing in themselves.  What matters is the gospel, and the gospel delivered sincerely, and unadulterated.

Let me stress this.  It’s not sufficient to be careful as to how one teaches this message, to be rightly dividing the Word, not pulling a proof text here, wrenched out of context to make one’s preferred point.  “It’s written in Scripture,” is, in itself, no proof of validity for one’s point.  Satan played that game.  And lost.  What makes you think you’ll do better with it?  But even if we are a most careful student, and a considered teacher who takes pains to deliver the accurate Gospel, it comes to naught if it is not clearly informing the life of that teacher.  I was reminded of my brother in Christ, Peter, with whom I used to get together to pray some years back.  Wonderful man, though I’ve long since lost contact with him.  At any rate, one thing he urged on me early on was the point that you cannot teach the lesson you have not learned.  You cannot impart the truth of God to any good effect if that truth has not already got hold of you.  Preach to yourself first, and when you have grasped hold of that message and woven it into the fabric of your being (or had it so woven by God whom you serve), then maybe you are ready to try teaching it to another.  Anything less is just philosophical musing, even if it makes use of Scripture.

This message which has been entrusted to us is, as Barnes observes, too sincere not to have hold of us.  Now, he speaks of the messenger, the preacher.  But we are all called to be messengers, are we not?  It’s easy to make too much of this, and suppose that we must all take up the evangelist’s role, the missionary’s assignment and drop everything in pursuit of bearing this gospel to the world.  How does this fit with the repeated them of the church as a body with many members?  Those members have differing functions, differing gifts.  This is per Christ’s design, so on what basis shall we now insist that everybody, whatever their function and gift, is to be a hand, or everybody a nose?

On the other hand, it is just as easy for us to dismiss our purpose and function as those whom Jesus has left in the world but not of it.  It’s too easy to become satisfied that we are saved, and leave the rest to their fate.  But that is a dereliction of duty, you servant of Christ!  You have been entrusted with a message, and while many a preacher would look with dismay on the idea, even if you only preach it by the example of your living in accord with your faith, you are called to preach.  You are an example, like it or not.  The only question is whether your example is aletheia, in accord with the faith you claim.  If it is, I don’t know as it’s possible to live other than in such fashion as those who know us will know our faith.

We have this idea of the stealth Christian, the one who believes, but keeps it carefully hidden away while out in public.  Now, this idea comes primarily, I think, as an attempt to guilt the Christian into pursuing a more actively evangelistic life.  And in that, I think it is wrongly applied.  But the truth is, whether one is blatantly, noisily Christian or one is simply earnest about living one’s beliefs, about pursuing a life to which conscience can testify, “we have conducted ourselves in holiness and sincerity,” this, too, is witnessing to Christ.  It may in due course lead to opportunities to give answer to those who ask how it is we are as we are.  That’s the idea, really.  Your example has paved the way for your words.  It may be that for some, or for certain circumstances, example and word come so closely in time as to be practically concurrent.  I think, if we look at the example of Paul, that is pretty much what we see.  But as time went on, his reputation preceded him.  We see that even in this letter.  Word of the impact of his ministry up in Macedonia, and of the sincerity of response in those he had ministered to, preceded him, paved the way for the message he bore now to other places.

What to conclude here?  Well, we should be living in a manner that would leave those who know us aware of our faith.  At the very least, they should be aware of the difference in us, the integrity and goodness.  They will certainly be aware of our faults, and all the more, should they come to know the reason for the hope that is in us.  They will, in their fallenness, still hope to find the chinks in our message, to once more suppress the truth in unrighteousness, and far be it from us to give them fuel for such pursuits!  No!  Let their experience of us serve to confirm the truth of that doctrine we hold in Christ, of that gospel we would have them believe.  As to those in Thessalonica, “They had had a full opportunity to see them, and to know what influenced them”  That’s Barnes’ observation of what is said here.  You know, because we proved to be.  You know because our example gave proof of our truth, of Christ’s truth.  There had been ample opportunity to observe Paul in preaching and in practice.  They had seen him at his heights, in proclaiming this gospel.  They had seen him at his lowest, persecuted and hounded out of town.  They had seen him content whether freshly supplied by support from Philippi, or finding it needful to return to his tent-making to keep him and his companions fed and sheltered.  There were plenty who sought to defame his ministry, to lay charges against him that he didn’t really care, that he was just bilking them and leading them astray.  But they knew better.  They had seen the man, and the man was, transparently, living as he taught, and doing so in such fashion and under such circumstances as left no room to doubt but that God was working in and through him.

There is one point further I would consider while we are here.  Paul would not adulterate this Gospel with which he had been entrusted.  He came to win souls, yes, but not at the expense of the Truth he possessed.  He speaks of being approved by God, and entrusted with this gospel, and that combination had him tightly in its grip.  He would speak with compassion, and he would even plead, I suspect, with those to whom he preached, that they might indeed hear and accept this Gospel offered to them, this gracious gift of God.  But he also knew, first-hand, that the accepting of that Gospel could only come as the Spirit gave, as the Spirit took up His place and His purpose in the soul of the hearer.  He also knew better than to alter or shave the message to spare the feelings of those to whom he spoke.  The Truth is of little value if we make of it a lie, after all.

Where am I going with this?  Paul as not easy on sin.  He wasn’t going to leave room for these converts to excuse their little peccadillos as being no cause for concern.  He wouldn’t for example, leave the Corinthians to play their game of coming to Church on Sunday and heading to the local temple later for a bit of fun and food.  No!  What mixture can there be between light and darkness?  How shall you carry the Holy Spirit, of Whom you are now a temple, into such sinful practices?  Neither was he going to give a pass to those who pursued their sexual sins, perhaps with that oh so clever mindset of, “I’ll sin now and ask forgiveness later.”  My, how we love to chuckle at that, don’t we?  But it’s a nervous chuckle, I think, because we know all too well how readily we deploy that very idea.  And we also know entirely too well to be comfortable, that it’s a lie.  Paul would not play that game himself, and he would not leave room for those he taught to do so.

He did not, Barnes notes, withhold commendation where it was truly due.  It is no flattery to do so.  But neither did he hesitate to convict of sin, where that was truly due.  Neither did he avoid the discomfort of warning the sinner of his danger.  There are many today who are convinced that we should leave off such negativity in our dealings with the unbeliever.  Oh, they know their sins well enough.  They don’t need to be hit with that again.  Nobody wants to hear the guy who’s always warning how you’re going to hell.  Well, no.  Nobody wants to hear it.  On the other hand, everybody needs to.  Jesus didn’t shy away from it, certainly.  It has often been observed that He spoke of hell far more often than of heaven, at least so far as we have record of His teaching.  Then, too, I cannot but think of that sermon of Jonathan Edwards that so ignited the fires of true revival.  “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.”  Yes, there’s that positive, God loves you, message we are advised to deliver.  There’s a sentiment sure to grab the hearts of the crowd, and bring them happily to hear.  No.  Even to this day, an unbelieving people deride the message, and as often as not, without having even read beyond the title.  Yet, this was the sort of sermon that God occupied, that God empowered to bring a fallen people to a place of true, heartbroken repentance, so as to bring them into a place of true, lasting forgiveness.

Barnes writes, “It is not wrong to call things by their right names.”  It strikes me that at no time has this ever been truer than in the present day.  We are in a world where those who would spread darkness are constantly redefining words to suit their purposes.  They seek to control discussion and even thought by rendering all manner of subjects unspeakable.  They seek to subvert reason by insisting that words mean whatever they would have them to mean today.  They can speak in such fashion as would leave the unwary thinking they were in agreement and yet, while they use the right words, they use them to mean something entirely wrong, and entirely at odds with the true meaning of those words.  This is something of an inevitable outcome for those trained to believe that there can be no objective truth.  If there can be no objective truth, there can be no objective meaning.  Opinion becomes the ultimate arbiter, the sole arbiter.  And with that, any hope of meaningful community is utterly dissolved.

In such a world, how needful it is for us to hold with Barnes in this understanding.  “It is not wrong to call things by their right names.”  And we must do so forcefully, leaving no doubt as to our meaning, no space for personal interpretation.  Most assuredly, we must avoid the urge to replace clear condemnation of sin behind euphemisms.  They are not just living together.  They are living in sin.  They are immoral.  They are not seeking to express their true selves, they are seeking license to sin.  There are not some infinite rainbow of genders.  There are two.  There are only two, and physical mutilation, however achieved, will not alter that.  The beginnings of life in the womb are not a clump of cells, some undifferentiated mass.  They are human life (assuming a human fetus, of course).

Honestly, the duplicity of thought in that gotcha moment I came across the other day sticks with me.  Here was a guy (or perhaps a gal, I don’t know), all proud of himself because he’d sent a few ultrasounds to some pro-lifer asking if this was already a human life or not.  Ha-ha!  That stupid pro-lifer said yes, but this one is a picture of a dog fetus, and that of a hippopotamus fetus.  Oh, you clever boy, you.  See how foolish they are?  They call it human but they can’t even identify it right.  Now, I’ll admit a moment’s consideration of the first picture would clearly show the tail, and yes, that one should have taken a moment before replying.  But what is far more telling to me is this one who wants so desperately to dismiss the human fetus as not really human is perfectly ready to acknowledge that this dog fetus is in fact a dog, and this hippo fetus is in fact a hippo.  Isn’t that something?  It is only the human fetus, apparently, that they would have so unspecific and disconnected from what it clearly and truly is.  I don’t know as I have ever encountered a more telling case of suppressing the truth in unrighteousness (Ro 1:18).  But it is all around us, and much of it comes in the form of refusing to call things by their right names.  And we must take great care, great pains, not to enter into that same game.  Call things as they are.  Commend what truly deserves commendation, and condemn what truly deserves condemnation.  This need not be done in anger, and certainly not in uncontrolled wrath and thirst for vengeance.  We seek redemption of the sinner, not destruction.  It may come to that in the end, but that is God’s call, not ours.

For our part, we serve as Christ served, to seek and save the lost, not to revile them and laugh at their funerals.  We seek to live, like Paul, like Christ, such that our words and our deeds, our beliefs and our lives are aletheia, in perfect harmony and concord.  We seek to live such that what you see is what you get, and what you get is Christ.

Appointed and Equipped (10/23/22)

I mentioned earlier that when it comes to ministry, particularly in the calling of pastor or missionary evangelist, it’s not a question of man finding his vocation, but of God appointing.  Authority such as must apply in such a calling is not something that one can assume to himself.  Authority, in all fairness, is never such.  But this holds true all the more where matters of faith and truth are concerned.  By and large, I suspect we tend to think of those set in governance over our lives as the ones in whom it is most important that such authority as they have is used justly and wisely.  And to be sure, it would be well were it so.  We have plentiful cause to pray for our civil leadership, even as we are instructed to do.  But face it.  The scope of their power is limited to the temporal.  Their impact is but temporary.  That with which the minister is involved, or those others who would seek to influence and shape our beliefs and our concepts of God, deals with matters eternal, matters of perpetual import.  They must be trustworthy.  They must be truthful and just in their explanation and application of God’s Truth.

Ironside writes, “The ministry is not man’s choice; it is God’s choice.”  That is eminently so.  It was so from the first appointing of a priest in Aaron.  Aaron wasn’t looking for a job with God.  Neither was there some contest or application process to which many candidates could apply.  God simply chose.  This one.  He’s going to be high priest, and his sons after him shall be the priests of My temple.  Note that He also chose when those who proved false were to be removed, forcibly and permanently, from that office.  In the period surrounding the life of Jesus, that system had been rather horribly corrupted, becoming instead a political matter, a power game.  God would not have it.  Indeed, if He was able to dismiss the individual priest who corrupted his ways, He was assuredly going to clean His house of this structure that had become so misshapen by sin.

These things continue to hold true.  It wasn’t just ancient Israel that experienced this direct involvement of God in the governance of His church and His people.  It holds in the Church today.  God chooses those whom He would have as ministers.  Yes, many may seek to insinuate themselves in those roles who have no business being there, seeking even to mislead the elect, were it possible.  There is a reason why we have things such as vicinage councils to confirm or gainsay the sense of calling a candidate may have.  You may think He’s called you, but have you prepared?  Are you indeed called of Him, or are you just full of yourself?  The office is worthy of great care and protection, even knowing that through it all, even through our protective processes, it is God who calls, not the man who assumes.

The way Paul expresses his own appointment here is telling.  “We have been approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel.”  Now, there is something to that suggestive of order, isn’t there?  God didn’t hand him the Gospel message and say, “Okay, let’s see what you can do.”  There was no trial period, no occasion for Paul to preach when maybe he didn’t have the truth in hand, or perhaps wasn’t really up to the task.  Considering what he would face, what God showed him beforehand he would have to deal with in the course of this ministry, it was needful that he be shown approved.

Now let’s understand clearly that God was fully aware of His servant.  He knew Paul approved already, and that in spite of the fierce opposition – even deadly opposition – that Paul had shown to Christian faith.  I was thinking about this last evening, as we read Psalm 79, with its imprecations against those enemies come upon Israel at the time.  Oh, to be sure, there is a place for holy vengeance, but that place rests with God.  It is almost jarring, really, to read these songs written primarily as a cry to God for His vengeance to come.  One could readily imagine such songs and prayers offered in regard to Paul as he had ravaged the church in Jerusalem, and made it more or less his life mission to destroy Christians wherever they might be found.  Could God have come with swift and final judgment?  To be sure.  But He had a better idea.  Let’s make this enemy of Ours a friend, indeed a most trustworthy servant.  Let’s show him mercy rather than perdition.  And look what happened!  Was ever a more faithful and trustworthy servant of God found?  Yes, I expect there were many over the course of years.  But the point remains.

He had been tested hard.  He had been tested first in that sudden blinding, the immediate shift from riding in power to groping and being led into the city.  He was being tested as he was met in that city by a man with a message – a message from the very One he had been so fiercely opposing.  He was tested further yet as he spent years in the wilderness alone, being taught of Christ and prepared for his new life.  And he would be tested repeatedly as he sought to fulfill this new assignment that had been given him, for it was not easy – not by any stretch.  It was not easy for Paul to find himself opposed to the entire way of life he had worked so hard to learn.  It was not easy to find his own people, a people he clearly loved, constantly clamoring after his life as being a heretic.  How fierce the rejection when once we leave the club and renounce their ways!  And he was tested further still when he pursued his honest, earnest course, and the opposition so stirred things up that he wound up facing punishment and abuse for things he had not done.  And through it all, he held fast to his mission.  He held fast to God.  We saw it in Philippi, which example he brings to bear here.  Imprisoned for a riot he had not caused, but rather those who brought those charges against him, did he rail at injustice?  Did he complain to God of the unfairness of it all?  Did he start wailing out cries for vengeance such as we have in that Psalm?  No.  He and Silas accepted their lot, and sang songs of praise to God.

We see it in later years, as well.  Imprisoned in Rome, facing trial under Nero on charges arising from that perpetual trouble spot, Jerusalem, his prospects couldn’t have been good.  He was under house arrest, at his own expense.  He knew well enough that the likelihood of being put to death was far greater than the likelihood of release.  Oh, to be sure, God could do as He pleased.  It wasn’t like this emperor was really in position to stop Him.  But there are those ordinary providences of life, if you will, and even one such as Paul could not simply expect and assume such intervention on God’s part, even having experienced that intervention so many times.  It’s not something to presume upon.  It’s something for which to give thanks when it comes.  He was tested.  And being tested, he was approved.  And being approved, he was entrusted to pursue the highest, most glorious duty of bearing the Gospel to the nations, and doing so accurately and well.

Can I just observe here that what we are saying of Paul was ever true of those who were tasked with pronouncing God’s word to His people, and particularly so where that word was new and fresh, not just the reciting of what was already written and expounding upon it.  The prophets of old no more claimed the title for themselves than did these Apostles, or the pastors of our own day.  They did not go through a trial period where maybe their prophecies were accurate and maybe not.  They didn’t get a skate save on the first few, until they got the hang of it.  Indeed, as I often point out, the penalty for falsely prophesying was exceeding high.  That one whose message is not fulfilled?  Not only do you not listen to such a one on anything further, you are to stone him, and remove his offense from among the people.  Let him have no space in which to further mislead.  Ever again.  Can you imagine how very different the church landscape would look today were those who preach, those who claim for themselves the mantle of prophet and even of apostle had cause to expect this same, rather final response to error on their part?

Unfortunately, too many have heard the whisper of the serpent, I think.  Oh, you surely will not die, Eve!  No, you must have misunderstood.  God is such a merciful, compassionate being, after all.  Surely, He wouldn’t put you to death for this tiny mistake, would He?  Oh, but He would.  He is Holy.  He is Truth.  And you, dear boy, have laid claim to representing Him.  If, then, in your representing Him, you have presented a lie, how, pray tell, should you expect Truth will respond?  If, then, you have misled His sheep, causing them both immediate and potentially eternal harm, how do you think you shall be called to repay His losses, if not in blood?  Indeed, I think we can be quite certain that no, the stakes have not become less in our day.  The same standards hold, and the same penalties for failing to uphold the standards.  That death may not come in lightning flash immediacy.  But it shall, I fear, be far worse for those individuals who seek to make ministry a place of profiteering.  It shall be an eternal perishing.  Justice shall be served.

But even so, far better should God determine to break and reform such a one, to make of the former liar a man of truth and conviction.  What more devoted minister could there be than the one who has known himself so near his own doom, only to be saved by the very One he thought to dismiss as irrelevant? 

No, our real approval comes not of man, not of some positive response we might get from those to whom we speak.  Our approval is not in numbers.  It is not in positive reviews, or likes on our sermons or our classes.  Our approval is from God, the result of God’s examination of our heart.  Again, I stress that what He examines He already knows.  The examination comes, really, for our own benefit, that we may know our own steadfastness, our own depth of conviction as to this Truth in which we stand.  He examines that we might know His approval.  It comes with disciplines, to be sure, that in those places where approval cannot as yet be given, we have cause to repent and reform.  But He tests, and He approves, and in so doing, we learn what we are truly able to do in Him.

Listen.  This isn’t about gaining mystic powers.  How hateful that notion is!  How very many have been led astray into all manner of vanity and worse because they mistook this matter of holiness and salvation as a means to power.  Oh, look!  He gave them miraculous powers, and He is no respecter of persons, so clearly, He must entrust me with those same powers!  We have the example of it right there in the earliest era of the Church.  Simon the magician, having made a name for himself as a great man with great powers, was one such.  So pronounced were his arts, that people spoke of him as a Great Power of God (Ac 8:8-24).  But after encountering Philip, and hearing this gospel, we are told even he believed and was baptized.  Oh, how wonderful!  Happy ending.  But it didn’t end there.  It wasn’t like every last vestige of his past and his personality suddenly vanished.  No.  He saw that when these servants of Christ laid hands on people, those people received the Holy Spirit.  Power!  Ooh!  I want me some of that!  So, how does he respond?  Say!  Give me this authority, too.  I want to be able to lay hands on folks and impart this Holy Spirit like that.  I’ll pay, if you like.  How much will it take?  That hunger for power came near to wrecking him.  Were it not for Scripture’s attestation that he believed, I would suggest that his conversion had been but a pretext.  Peter, for one, was having his doubts.  “May your silver perish with you!”  But Peter doesn’t settle for imprecations and cries for vengeance.  No.  He seeks for repentance.  You can’t have this because your heart is not right.  Your hunger for power makes plain that you should not have it.  Pray that God might forgive your unworthy motives.  Repent of it and break free of the bonds of this sin!  Simon does appear to have repented, and perhaps to have been duly humbled, as he trusts not his own prayers at this point, asking instead that Simon might pray for him.

Long story, but the point is there.  It’s not about access to power.  It’s about being approved by God.  It’s not about being able to perform miracles.  It’s about being able to be entrusted with the unparalleled task of speaking God’s Truth truly, fearlessly, compassionately.  And it’s about living it as you preach it.  God tests us so that we may learn our capabilities in Him.  Indeed, as with Paul, so with us:  He has been testing us all along, and He shall continue to do so.  For by testing we grow.  By testing we are fashioned into that much more effective an instrument in the hands of our God.   He knows us who tests us.  He knows our limits far better than do we.  He knows exactly how far we can stand to be exercised, to be stretched.  And He knows that if He does not so exercise us, we shall grow lax and flabby in our faith. 

We need this testing as we need a confidence that is truly rooted in God alone.  We have every reason, then, to be thankful when such testing comes, knowing the more that our courage, such power as we may have, and the message with which we are entrusted come from Him.  We are not here to display our cleverness.  We are not here to perform for applause.  We are here to serve the living God, to speak His truth, to live His truth.  We are here to minister, and we minister as God chooses.  Let this be our story and our confidence.  And if this is not where you know yourself to be, may He make it clear to you, and may you henceforth shed all that is of your own doing, and rest that much more wholly upon Him. In Him we live, and move, and have our being.   In Him we serve.

Tested and Approved (10/24/22)

It seems the thoughts of this section continue ideas discussed in the last.  It is God who appoints and equips.  It is God who tests and approves.  And while we are hardly called to seek that we might offend those around yes, yet we must recognize that it is His approval, and His only that matters.  It is His approval and His only that carries weight and value.  Of course, that has its truth in the obverse as well.  All the approval of man, the high opinions of our peers or acquaintances, will amount to nothing if God does not approve.  There is only, in the end, one approval and that is His.  If He is satisfied with our workmanship as giving expression to His own, then indeed we are approved.

But how do we know ourselves thus approved, if indeed we are?  Paul is pointing us quietly to the answer:  God is witness.  Omniscient God, who tries the heart, is ever witness to our real condition.  Motives might be hidden from man, but not from Him.  Deceitfulness might work to give us cover amongst those we encounter, but it will get us nowhere with Him.  In fact, as in the case that Paul appeals to God’s witness, there are matters in which it would be impossible for those who know us, however well they know us, to render a true and certain judgment.  You cannot know my motives, only what I present as being my motives.  You cannot finally discern whether my charitable deeds are done from a charitable heart or for reasons more self-serving.  You cannot determine with finality whether my faith is indeed sound or but a show put on to gain your approval, and dropped as soon as I am out of your sight.  You may or may not be able to make reasonable determinations in that regard, but you cannot see the heart.  You cannot know the inmost man, and know that you know.  God can.

I would accept that, in certain cases and circumstances God can and does supply insight in the one who would make assessment of our faith, particularly where that comes as a function of office in His church.  Those who are charged with shepherding His flock have need of such discernment, and I do not doubt that God supplies it to those thus charged.  It is not, I must say, a given.  But it is a reasonable expectation, and within the body of the Church, we rightly expect that there are those endowed with this gracious gift from God.  This is a far cry from assuming your impressions of a given individual are God-inspired and therefore obviously accurate.  Perhaps.  Perhaps not.  And let it be assumed that they are.  It still remains the fundamental that it is God’s approval, His perfect judgment, that matters, and His alone.  He knows our actions, and He knows our intentions.

I have said before, and repeat here, that God does not need to test us in order to know.  He already knows.  He is perfect in knowledge, and not in need of learning about us that which was previously unclear to Him.  We, on the other hand, have need of clear evidence of His approval – first and foremost in our own case.  We are, as so many observe, well acquainted with our sins.  We may hide them from ourselves, but we know them anyway.  And if we are in Christ, I would suggest we know them far more clearly than ever before.  It can become difficult to accept, when once aware of our sins, that we are indeed approved of God.  How can it be?  Look at me, Lord!  You would lay claim to this?  I wouldn’t.  But He does.  He does because He sees in us His finished work.  He sees not what we were nor even what we are, but what we shall most assuredly become because of the bedrock truth that it is He Who is at work in us both to will and to work for His good pleasure (Php 2:13).  That doesn’t leave us off the hook, for we are called to be diligent in our pursuit of this sanctification He is bringing to pass in us.  We are called to a loving obedience to His rightful command of our lives.

To that end, we must surely recognize that there is much He shall have to strip away, preferably with our compliant laboring together with Him, in order to rebuild us.  There is much of Jeff the old man that had need of being removed, eradicated, in order that Jeff the renewed man might emerge into view.  There is much yet that still has need of removal, and I must thank God that He is a careful and patient craftsman who takes time with this poor specimen in order to bring about His desired end without destroying the work in excessive zeal.  I am not alone in this.  We are not alone in this.  Indeed, it is our common story, our shared history as children of the living God.

Paul had experienced it, one might say, in the extreme.  That old Saul needed to be stripped away and utterly rebuilt into the new, gracious character we know as Paul.  This needed to happen before ever he could be entrusted with the high duty of preaching.  This is not to say that Paul forgot all he had ever known, lost reference to all that he had ever been.  Memory wasn’t stripped from him, nor personality, nor learning.  But there was a newness to it, wasn’t there?  Those memories now served to equip him to minister to those of like background, like memories.  He knew the nature of those to whom he would preach because he had been, by and large, as them, and even where he had not, he had been among them, lived their culture, and knew it intimately.  Neither did he leave behind the learning and the devotion that had come of being a Pharisee.  But what he held onto he held onto in its proper place.  The concern for godliness and purity was in itself a good and proper concern.  It was the excessive legalism that presented a problem.  It was the pride of appearance that led to sin even in the pursuit of holiness.  So corrupt is man!  Even in this, he cannot but bend his course back to sinfulness except Christ comes, the Holy Spirit enters, and God speaks in conscience to prevent it.

Paul had to have his old arrogance and certainty stripped away.  Now there was a new certainty, but a certainty free of that arrogance.  Now there was concern for God as before, but not as One in need of Saul’s stout defense, rather as One so pleased to see those long in darkness given to partake of His light.  This had to be hard for Paul to take, this utter shift from guardian of the Truth to unbiased proclaimer of the Truth.  But yet it was done gently, not breaking the man, but rather making him.  And when he was tested, when he had been proved and approved, then he was put into action.  He was not a perfect being.  He was not another Jesus.  But he was the tool God had fitted perfectly to the task, and he was not merely willing, but knew himself compelled by his message to deliver it fully, accurately, and so far as it lay with him to do so, effectively.

This is the wherefore that explains Paul’s holy boldness.  This is the why behind his being undeterred even by the severest afflictions.  This is why Paul, even from his prison cell, even addressing those of Nero’s own household, could not hold back from proclaiming the glorious good news of God’s redeeming truth.  We need to be of this same mold.  The Gospel needs to have this same hold of us, that neither dangers nor comforts would dull our message or delay our efforts.  I cannot speak for all, certainly, but I can speak for myself, and I can say that this is not where I find myself.  I know little enough of such holy boldness, even in my own household, let alone out among strangers.  What am I to say?

God help me.  I have tried boldness, but I fear in my own capacities, and it has only come out as anger and arrogance.  That is not the boldness for which You call.  Yet sometimes, I think, sometimes I manage to function in Your equipping, and I hope on those occasions that I think I have represented You well, that I have indeed done so.  I hope I have not fallen prey to massaging Your Truth to render it more palatable, or offered false comfort to one in a hard situation.  I can only offer that, however poor my service to date, yet I am Yours.  Use me as You will, and I must pray, if needed, bend me to Your will.  Or so continue Your work in me as to render me not only willing, but actively engaged in that which You have intended for me.

I appreciated Ironside’s observation as regarded Paul’s ministry. He doesn’t engage in politics.  He doesn’t rattle on about science or oppose himself to it.  He doesn’t play games debating philosophies with those of differing views.  He preaches.  Period.  Here is God’s Truth.  Take it or leave it.  It is not subject to your opinions.  It is reality.  Coming to Corinth, with their love for debate and rhetoric, what do we hear from him?  “I determined to know nothing among you but Jesus Christ, and Him crucified” (1Co 2:2).  You want to talk politics?  I give you Jesus, and Him crucified.  You wish to turn the talk to sports?  Who’s my favorite team, or who I favor in the games?  I can speak only of Christ, and Him crucified.  You wish to speak of stoics and hedonists and Platonists and Socratic methods?  Sorry.  Let me tell you of this Jesus, Who was crucified for your sins and mine, who died and was buried, but Who was also resurrected to life by the power of the Holy Spirit of God, Who was and is God, as attested by His ascension into heaven before manifold witnesses, where He now sits upon the throne.  There’s your politics.  There’s your games won.  There’s your Truth.  In Him we live, and move, and have being.  Lesson complete.

Now, we know, by the testimony of Luke’s historical account, and by the mention of it in his various letters, that Paul was not averse to physical labors that had nothing directly to do with ministry.  He would go about his labor as a tent-maker.  He would earn his bread, even as he instructed those who would hear instruction to earn their own.  This Christian faith is not the stuff of idleness, and setting aside of all earthly cares and activities.  Far from it!  But it is a call to newness of life in the doing.  It is a call to deal with our mundane daily necessities as we do with our holier moments, as things done in Christ, and in the sight of God.

It’s a lesson from a different letter, but let us bring it in here anyway.  Whatever you do, whether in word or in deed, do it in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father (Col 3:17).  It must be apparent, I would hope, that such a perspective must set boundaries on the scope of whatever.  Surely, we cannot be so foolish as to suppose we can go after our darkest sins and, so long as we are giving thanks to God through the course of that pursuit, God will be pleased.  Don’t be stupid.  But hear.  Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men (Col 3:23).  We’re not talking hedonistic free for all here.  We’re talking labors, employments, the duties of daily life.  You work for an uncaring corporation?  Don’t do it for them.  Do it for the Lord.  And by all means, if you cannot in good conscience do what you are doing for the Lord, would prefer He turn His eyes from your means of employment, it is very likely time to find a new trade.  But not for the mundanity of it, not for the lack of interest or engagement in that task.  I can’t imagine that tent-making was a terribly exciting prospect.  Sure, it put food on the table, but a challenge to the likes of Paul?  Perhaps for eyesight and the ability to remain awake and alert in the doing of it, but hardly the stuff of fame and glory.  For all that, the work of ministry was hardly any more glamorous, was it?  He wasn’t being put up at the local spa.  He wasn’t being invited to parties with the rich and famous.  He wasn’t making a comfortable living for himself off the easy work of spouting whatever came to mind.  It was hard.  But whatever his present engagement, whether in active preaching or in making a living, his heart and mind were for the Lord.  What he advised these Colossians was nothing other than his own practice.  Paul lived as he preached, and so must we seek to do.

He does take this same lesson and apply it to matters beyond that of necessity, though.  He takes it to the realm of choices made that in themselves are not matters of choosing between sinful and holy act.  Whether you eat or drink, or whatever it is you do, do it to the glory of God (1Co 10:31).  Now, here, the focus is on keeping God’s glory in view, such that our choices and decisions shall not lead to unwanted offense to insiders or outsiders, to Jews or Greeks, or those in the Church (1Co 10:32).  It’s no longer about our comfort.  It’s about God’s purposes.  It’s about seeing our brothers and sisters grow alongside us.  It’s about having our eyes on Christ, Who ever has His eye on us.  Deal with others not just fairly, but mercifully, even as God has dealt with you.  As you have been freely given, so freely give.  As you have been granted forgiveness, so forgive.  I could keep going, but I am quite sure we see the pattern and are able to apply it to whatever situation we may be in.

Wherever we are, whatever our activities, let it be that our pursuits and our words are indeed in Christ in the sight of God.  That was my lesson in earlier notes, and I dare say, it is one I could stand to take to heart in my own right at this juncture.  God so work in me, and let me be at work in You, that this indeed becomes my mindset, my core:  That my eyes are ever on You, my awareness ever of You, that I would indeed do all that I do as one who lives consciously coram deo, before Your face, O Lord.

Powerful Obedience (10/25/22)

I don’t know as it is possible to overemphasize the value of a life lived in obedience to the gospel.  Such a life must preach, but it preaches in more than word.  It preaches as making ready a way for the Word.  This is very much what we are seeing with Paul.  Now, in his case, I venture that word and example came more or less simultaneously.  We know he came to town and was immediately in synagogue at the next possible opportunity.  He didn’t hold off and establish his reputation before speaking. 

That raises something of a question for me, as to the degree in which his reputation had preceded him.  In some regards, it reads as though he came to the synagogue as an unknown, and just began talking.  And as a visitor, perhaps this would be the way of things normally, but it seems odd, doesn’t it?  Do we, for example, invite the visitor to our church to come take the pulpit for the morning?  I think not.  And I rather doubt that these synagogues were much different in that regard.  But news travels, and might well travel faster even than Paul and friends had made their way from Philippi.  And certainly, in stirring up charges against them, his opponents demonstrated awareness of his impact elsewhere.  And we hear it somewhat again as Paul speaks of how news of the conversions to Christ in Thessalonica had traveled ahead of him to Corinth.  Isn’t it something, though, that even the opposition, with their push to let folks know who this Paul was were in fact paving the way for the Gospel in spite of themselves.  They wanted to raise warnings, but they could not do so without raising awareness, and awareness leads to curiosity, and curiosity plus a hearing leads to response.  He was being examined, both as he spoke and as he lived, and this examination on their part did nothing but give greater cause to accept that his message was in earnest, and indeed from God.

If there had been those who sought to dislodge these new converts by casting doubt on Paul’s motives, their experience was sufficient in itself to shut down those efforts.  This is what Paul brings forward as his defense here.  You know.  You saw it proved to you.  You saw it when we were with you.  You saw it in that we sent Timothy when we could not return personally.  You see it now in this letter.  All of it confirms the simple truth:  He counted them dear.  His actions while with them had shown them the depth of care he had for them.  The simple love shown in this letter confirmed that it wasn’t just an act while he was with them, a friendship that lasted only so long as they remained close.  It persisted.

There is something of a rebuke for me in this, for I know that for my own part, absence does not in fact make the heart grow fonder, but only more forgetful.  Yes, there are those in my past of whom I have fond memories, but not of such a nature as would lead me to ensure that contact remains consistent.  Oh, I might look this one or that one up on occasion, but not with any idea of reconnecting.  More a passing curiosity.  This holds with casual friends and coworkers.  It holds, as well, with those who have been close companions in faith in past years.  In some cases, geographic relocation has rendered close association less likely and less fruitful.  In others, it’s simply been my own need for a clean break.  I am not of that body now.  I am of this one.  But what do I do with Paul’s example?  His example is powerful, and I dare say, it is given us as a model by which to shape our own character.  Follow me as I follow Christ.  That is the powerful testimony of Paul to those amongst whom he ministered in person.  It is also his testimony to us who know him only from a great distance of time and space.

Paul’s demeaner, his actions while with them, and his actions since departing, all confirmed the fact that he held them dear.  He cared.  His caring didn’t stop because he had moved on.  We see that over and over in his letters.  I pray for you constantly.  You are always in my prayers.  I never cease making mention of you to God.  And the letters themselves demonstrate that lasting care and concern.  I’ve not seen you converted and left you to get on as best you may.  God didn’t do that we me.  I won’t do that with you.  It’s interesting, isn’t it?

We have something of a tenet, even a covenanted agreement, that a former pastor will not continue ministering to those of his former church.  They have a new pastor now, a new undershepherd, and to minister to the flock under his charge would be disruptive to that authority and office entrusted to him.  I get it.  Especially where a pastor has been long in service to the body, to continue ministering there when a new pastor is seeking to establish himself with the people of the church can lead to division and discord.  Yet, here is Paul really doing more or less that very thing.  There are differences, to be sure.  He is an Apostle, and as such might be seen as a supervisor of pastors.  But he’s not supervising pastors here.  He’s addressing the church directly.  Further, he had sent Timothy to minister to them, who would be more a direct peer of whoever was pastoring the church after their departure.  And there is no complaint here of meddling.  Indeed, it is seen as highly commendable.  It is something we think of as a defining feature of the man.  He planted, and he cared.  He tended, even if it must be from a distance.

Let us understand that none of this was because Paul felt he had a reputation to maintain.  None of this was concern for fame and a name.  No, the concern was for the Gospel, and for the lives of those to whom the Gospel had come in power and in the Holy Spirit.  There was nothing of meddling in his continued ministry to those who were, after all, as children to him, birthed in the Spirit by the instrumental means of his ministering to them the good news of God’s grace.

And just as surely as his care for them was real, his preaching had not been in vain among them.  This is what he spoke of at the end of the last chapter, but he reiterates the point here.  It was not in vain, our coming to you.  It was not a waste of our time, and it was not a waste of yours.  We did not preach empty words of novelty and imagination.  We spoke to you of the true God, and we spoke of Him truly.  Being His true emissaries and pursuing His assigned mission, our preaching was full of power.  It did not make demands for honor on our part, but displayed in great tenderness towards you.  We taught you.  We fed you this most wonderful Word.  We cherished you, tending to each of you individually as if you were our own child.  When you hurt, we ministered to your hurt, not with generalizations, but with personal attention.  When you erred, we brought correction, not in public humiliations, but in brotherly, fatherly concern expressed, with strong cautions as to the result of continuing in your sins, and strong encouragements to turn from them and know the goodness of godly living.  Indeed, we led by our example.  No doubt, we had sins of our own of which to repent, for we remain, even as Apostles and evangelists, men such as yourselves.  But were we sinned, we repented.  Where we hurt, we made restitution.  And through it all, we sought as best we could to live godly before you and before God.

You have seen our example.  You have seen that we live as we preach.  You can see that none of that has changed since our departure from you, and we can see that your own pursuit of this same life of obedience has not changed, either.  The power of the Gospel is seen in this, that it has permanent effect.

Dear ones, this is a matter we have got to get settled in ourselves.  It is the fundamental key to living godly, in my opinion.  The power of the Gospel has permanent effect.  While we are encouraged and urged to get actively engaged in our own process of sanctification, yet we are also given every reason for confidence – a confidence that we retain even when we fail and fail hard.  It’s not the power of our obedience or our will.  It’s not that we happen to be of a compliant nature and swiftly take to the rule of Love that has been set upon us.  “If you love Me, you will keep My commands” (Jn 14:15).  I have looked at that before and felt that it was more a statement of fact than a command in its own right, but it’s really a bit of both isn’t it?  This obedience is the necessary outcome of real love for Christ.  But it simultaneously an outcome assured us by His love for us.

I have come to have something of a litany of passages of late.  There is that old favorite of mine from Philippians to which I referred in the previous section of this study, regarding the fact that it is God at work in us, not us seeking our best to work in light of God.  There is that other which has become very dear to me of late.  “I have called you by name, and you are Mine” (Isa 43:1).  And we can add those most comforting words from John’s gospel.  “I give eternal life to them, and they shall never perish; and no one shall snatch them out of My hand.  My Father gives them to Me, and He is greater than all.  No one is able to snatch them out of His hand.  I and the Father are One” (Jn 10:28-30).  Is it any wonder that Paul expresses an indomitable confidence in his salvation?  “I am convinced!”  Death, life, angles, demons, present circumstance or future events?  They won’t change this.  No height or depth, no created thing shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Ro 8:38-39).  “I am convinced!”  Can you say this yet?  Are you truly convinced of this most glorious Truth?  Here is the power for a living testimony of faith.  Here is the energizing source of godly living.  Here is the reason for our depth of love for God who loves us.  Here is humility in which to minister to effect both by exemplary life and by timely word.

These ambassadors of Christ did not come making demands that their authority be honored.  They did not come seeking pride of place.  They acted as tender parents to these children birthed of the Spirit.  They saw what God was doing among them and fed them, taught them, led them not by word only but by example.  Why?  Because they truly cherished these fresh-minted brothers and sisters in Christ.

What made Paul’s example so potent?  I think the Wycliffe Translators Commentary nails it.  They write, “In a world where religion was often coupled with immorality, he kept himself free of uncleanness.”  Here is a model for us to follow with diligence.  We live in a world where immorality is the chief religion.  It may not be spoken of as such by its followers, but it is clearly so.  How else to explain the devoted furor with which they pursue every sort of sexual deviancy?  How else to explain the degree in which the organs of government and of public pronouncement have seemingly got behind this same pursuit to encourage it?  It is a religion seeking converts, and seeking them by force if necessary.  And it is utterly evil, thoroughly corrupt and arrayed against life and godliness.

It is in this world that we minister.  We minister as the gathered Church, insistently remaining true to God and God’s ways in spite of this pressure.  We minister by remaining joyfully confident in spite of the tide of darkness that assaults us daily.  We minister by living godly in an ungodly world.  It isn’t a belligerent show of defiance that is called for, at least not for the most part.  I see nothing of belligerence in Paul’s example, nor, at least for the most part, in Christ’s.  Oh, there is a time for that.  That time is primarily when those who preach death seek to set themselves up as the true representatives of God.  Then there is a place for vehement rejection, for a tearing down of the abominations.  To be sure those who represent Christ, and are assigned to stand watch as shepherds over His flocks, can be and should be vehement in the defense of that flock.  When wolves come, it is not the time for gentle persuasion.  It is the time for staunch defense.  It is the time for giving no quarter.  Yet even here, I don’t doubt, there remained in these godly men a prayerful desire that these enemies might, as themselves, come to their senses and truly receive the Gospel of Christ, the forgiveness of Christ while yet there remains time to repent.

Paul makes much of not appealing to the rightful perks of his authority.  He didn’t assert it in pursuit of enjoying its privileges, and it seems he didn’t really assert it by way of laying down all manner of regulations on them, either.  Yet his authority was no less for all that.  And he rightly understood that authority is a weight.  If you have ever had a place of true, entrusted authority in Christ, I cannot but expect you have felt the truth of this.  There is something about standing up to teach God’s people that puts a weight on you.  There is a care to get it right.  There should be, at any rate.  There is something truly heavy, wearing even, in bearing the authority of office in God’s church.  To serve as an elder is an honor, certainly, one to be held with all humility.  But it is a weight.  It is responsibility far and away beyond what we may experience in other aspects of life. 

The CEO of some corporation might feel it in part, and it seems in recent times they have tried to make it something of a virtuous thing.  But it’s a self-serving virtue, a hollow virtue built on empty ideals.  To serve as elder in God’s Church is a different matter altogether.  Yes, it has its business-like aspects, but it goes so very far beyond that.  It is a call to give this same sort of personal care and attention to those among whom God has set you to serve.  You will, of necessity, learn things about the sheep that you might perhaps have preferred not to know.  You will hopefully have cause to celebrate their victories and growth.  But you will also be called upon to bear their grief, and to be the voice of discipline and correction when such becomes needful.  Indeed, you will have to cope with the worst aspects of fallen humanity, and do so in grace, do so even when it demands quietly persevering against undeserved wrongs against you.  It’s a weight.  It’s a weight that none can bear except it be done in the strength of Christ Himself.   And if one cannot so serve, cannot so lead, it is an authority best returned to Christ that He may appoint another who can and will.

But whether in leadership or not, there is something we share, and that is that we have joined battle against world powers of darkness.  We are an embassy, but we are also something of a forward outpost, aren’t we?  If we have been left in the world, though no longer of the world, we cannot but see those dark waves that surround us.  You can’t look at the news and fail to see it.  You can’t look at what passes for entertainment and fail to see it.  You can’t look at what supposed educators are seeking to do to your children and fail to see it.  We are at war, like it or not.  You signed on to this army when you professed Jesus as Lord.  He IS Lord.  He is Lord of Hosts, the God of angel armies, as we like to sing of late.  But He is also God of that army of which you are now and evermore a foot-soldier.  There’s a reason we are called to see to our armor.  Gird yourself with Truth.  Put on the breastplate of Righteousness.  Put on those greaves of the Gospel – the Gospel of Peace.  Then take up your faith as a shield against the flaming missiles of the enemy and his accusations.  Set the helmet of Salvation upon your head, protecting your thoughts against those doubts that would come in regard to your status with God.  And take up the Word of God, this Scripture He has given, to be your sword.  Thus equipped, pray, pray always and in the Spirit.  Persevere for the saints and pray (Eph 6:14-18).

If it was needful then, it is assuredly just as needful now.  Ready or not, availing yourself of that equipment God has given you or not, war is upon us.  It is ever upon us.  But remember always that it is not against these poor benighted people around us that we battle, but with the spiritual powers that have laid hold of them, deluded them, so occluded their sight and their thinking that they cannot discern goodness, can love only sin.  How to fight?  As Paul said:  Pray.  Pray constantly, and display consistent graciousness, even when most spitefully used.

Here is a battle in which we shall need constant supply from the strength of the Holy Spirit within us.  And He will not fail to supply it.  Here, then, is a battle to be joined in all confidence, knowing that we do so in the service of the King of kings, and the Lord of lords, our Victorious Warrior, Jesus, the Son of God.  We cannot lose, for He does not lose.  The worst that comes of it is that we go home to Him a bit earlier than we expected – but never earlier than He determined.

This is an odd place to leave this study, I think.  But it really is where I end it.  If it seems a dark note or discouraging, then I pray that we would seek out our Lord for encouragement to see things as they really are, and to walk out in that joyous confidence which is ours in Him.  We may be on the battlefield, but brothers always, the battle belongs to the Lord.  So let us go forth gladly, banners aloft, to bear this Gospel to the world, which is our great weapon and our great honor.  And in it all, to God be the glory.