Intimate Fellowship (05/16/22-05/17/22)

There are many striking points to this brief passage, and I shall start with the first, with this notice of deep, affectionate fellowship.  There is no call, nor really any room to try and make of this some evidence of illicit sensuality.  One has only to consider how often and how vehemently Paul addresses that very idea to recognize that there is something much different, something entirely wholesome in view.  “We have a fond affection for you.”  There is nothing sensual about it, whatsoever, and it’s a rather sad commentary on the present state of society that any such idea even suggests itself.  It is entirely natural that we should have fond affections for many.  It is the basis of friendship, certainly, and also of that sort of comradery which so improves morale in the workplace or in other shared endeavors.  To labor, as Paul observes he and his fellows did, without any sense of such affectionate fellowship would be onerous indeed.

But I think we must accept that this is something deeper, stronger than mere comradery.  We might be able to place it in the realm of that brotherly love which the Greeks speak of as philos.  But I suspect our general sense of that term leaves it insufficient to the task.  We see it in terms such as philosophy, and recognize that there is in that term the idea of a love for wisdom.  But such a love is of a particularly, shall we say, intellectual sort.  It’s not necessarily an emotional investment, though it may be a devotion to that which is loved in such a manner.  But while it may define the one whose profession is, in fact, the pursuit of wisdom, or of that sort of knowledge which so occupied the philosophers of ancient Greece, it really becomes more the description of a hobby than anything we might account as intimate.

But if we would grasp the idea of such brotherly love as it applies to our fellow man, perhaps we can think about the bonds of physical brotherhood.  There is a love there which oftentimes defies logic.  They may have little enough in common with us when it comes to pleasures, preferences, or character.  They may even be downright reprehensible, yet it will take some truly egregious act on their part to dissolve the bonds of that love we have for this one who shares our parentage.  This depth of devotion is in view when Scripture speaks of that one who is closer than a brother (Pr 18:24).  This is the one who will stand by you come what may.  Even a blood relative may turn against you, or turn a blind eye to your predicament.  But this one, this friend closer than a brother, will be there at your side, defending your cause against anything that comes against you.

If we think of Jonathon and David, we get a sense of just how tight are these bonds of affectionate fellowship which Paul has in mind.  Had it made sense to do so, there is no doubt but that he and his companions would have remained in Thessalonica despite the opposition.  Their departure did not come of an urge for self-preservation, but rather as protecting those who had become the basis of this new church.  Jason and others had already borne the brunt of some truly vile opposition, dragged before the magistrates on charges of treason against Rome, and fined (presumably rather heavily) as a surety for probation.  For Paul to stay would be to risk the effective destruction of those they had come to save unto eternity with the good news of the gospel.

Their departure, then, was in fact an evidence of their fond affection, their kindly feeling towards those they had met in Thessalonica.  It was demonstration of that same mindset they had while ministering among them.  They were well-pleased to impart.  They showed willingness to pursue that which they thought good in their service to these men and women.  The shared.  And they shared not only the gospel, but themselves.  This is a most powerful thought, and indeed, in some ways most perplexing.  Perhaps it is just my generally introverted perspective.  But, reading the KJV this morning, “we were willing to have imparted unto you […] our own souls.”  That’s significant.  And, yes, it truly is the term psuche, that is in view, although in the plural form of psuchas.  There’s a depth of intimacy here that is actually quite challenging.

In my exercise of seeking to identify the key verse for this passage, I have to admit it was more challenging than it often is.  There are several points to consider here, and choosing one above the rest was difficult.  But I settled on this:  “We didn’t just preach at you.  We gave you ourselves.”  Now, that is clearly a rather motivated reading, but I think it captures the point and the power of that verse.  We could have just preached the gospel to you, and got on with things.  We could have delivered the message, collected an offering and been on our way.  Or, even as we had remained, we could have been present for those times of gathered worship we established, but held ourselves a bit apart the rest of the week.  But we didn’t.  We poured ourselves out to you.  We imparted our own souls.  We shared our deepest thoughts, our inward concerns.  We showed you quite clearly who we truly are, holding nothing back, hiding nothing of our motive or our passion.

As I say, this is challenging.  If I contemplate those who form the body of this church in which I have served these last several years, could I truly say the same?  Could I say the same of any one of them, let alone myself?  I’m not sure I could.  We have been struggling to establish a sense of that koinonia sort of community fellowship, but I think the very nature of the effort may in some ways be militating against its success.  It feels too much another program, rather than an organic thing.  I think back to having been invited to a member’s household for dinner when we first began attending, and that was truly touching, truly welcome.  That was something besides a program.  It was nothing, so far as I know, which the pastor or the elders were insisting the good folk of the church should be doing to demonstrate their faith.  It was a simple act from a couple of good heart.  Now, it’s this production.  We must all come together once a month in the great hall of the gymnasium.  And it’s hard, given that it comes a fair length of time after service, and at this juncture my wife does not join me in attendance as it is.  And frankly, it’s a large crowd, a hideously noisy room, and just generally unpleasant to contemplate, non-conducive to any sort of giving of oneself.  It’s just another social event, totally surface and nothing of depth, and – well perhaps it’s just me – but I want no part of it, honestly.

So, the question arises.  How do we impart ourselves?  What does it even mean to give of our own souls in seeking to build one another up in holy faith?  It’s certainly more than preaching, although preaching remains fundamental and utterly needful to the life of the Christian.  But there’s something so much deeper here.  Let me just say that I understand well that for the proper preacher, the preparation of that sermon, the spiritual preparation as well as the technical efforts, even more than that technical effort, is a matter of significant depth.  After all, the preacher, to be effective, must first preach to himself, must first receive the message he would impart, and receive it not merely as fine oratory, but as God’s word should be received, necessitating a response not merely in words, but in actions.

But to impart of one’s own soul…  There is a selflessness here, and ingenuousness.  Look at Paul’s similar sentiment in addressing the church in Corinth.  “I will gladly spend and be expended for your souls” (2Co 12:15a).  That’s what he’s talking about.  We poured ourselves out.  We held nothing back.  Moving forward into the passage, that sense becomes stronger.  We did everything in our power to present no burden to you, to allow nothing in our manner or our approach to become an obstacle to your faith.  We lived out before you, night and day, in whatever circumstances, the very gospel we preached.  We showed you ourselves, unveiled, and in so doing, showed you that this gospel we proclaim is not merely some philosophical exercise, nor is it something we do because it beats working.  For one, if you’ve ever been in church leadership you will have no doubt but that it doesn’t beat working.  It’s a far harder duty than your average employment, and generally undertaken for little or no pay.  So, that’s out as motivator. 

If it had been an urge for personal glory, then I dare say, they would have folded up and moved on the moment opposition arose, not waited until the danger to their followers grew too great.  Again, they didn’t leave town out of concern for self-preservation.  Their prior experience in Philippi would put paid to any such thought.  They had suffered beatings and imprisonment already for the sake of the gospel.  Could these good folk really suppose that the whining mob, and being dragged before the magistrates was going to stop them now?  Of course not.  But, the danger to their disciples was another matter entirely.  They would not suffer those disciples to be put at risk just to show their boldness in the face of adversity.  To pour out and expend their own souls in this case consisted in departing when they would far rather have remained and seen that church established on a more solid footing.  Timothy’s return made that clear, one should think.  It wasn’t lack of desire to see them which kept Paul away, but rather, a combined care for their well-being, and, far more powerfully, obedience to God’s directing Spirit.

Let me offer one more input, this one from John.  “We know love by this:  Christ laid down His life for us” (1Jn 3:16).  So far, so good.  It’s but the echo of John 3:16, isn’t it?  And somebody, it seems, carefully numbered chapter and verse to allow this parallel thought to parallel the numbering as well.  Cute.  But it goes on from there.  “And we should likewise lay our own lives down for the brethren.”  That’s the full scope of accounting others as more important than yourself.  That’s the nature of one who pours out his soul for you.  I would rather suffer loss in my own life than see you suffer in yours.  If that’s what’s required of me in order that you may receive this gospel to good effect, and be established in the power of faith in Christ, so be it.  I must decrease, that He may increase (Jn 3:30).  My choice of phrasing in that response from John the Baptist suggests a cause and effect that is not there in the original text.  In his wording, it is simply a dual necessity.  My work is to present Him, not to supplant Him.  We aren’t in competition.

But as I have chosen to phrase it, I think it does have application, both to Paul’s point here, and to our response to what the Spirit has caused to be recorded in this epistle.  If I would see the work of Christ expressed through my efforts, such as they are, I must decrease.  Christ cannot be shown strong when I’m busy showing myself.  Too often, “Look what the Lord has done!” turns out to be a thinly veiled, “Look at me!”  I’m the star of this here show.  Ain’t I something?  But when we fall into that manner and motivation, we have failed utterly in our duty to Christ.  John had the right of it.  And if we can’t get ourselves out of the way and allow Christ to shine through, I dare say we shall never find it in ourselves to impart, as Paul writes, our very souls to those we would see grow in Christ.  How can they grow in Christ when we are inviting them to an idolatrous personality cult?

We can’t.  What will demonstrate Christ is this utter selflessness, this entire dispensing with self-regard or any sense of privilege.  We gave you ourselves.  We were expended that your souls might prosper.  We laid down our lives for you.  If it meant suffering for us – hear it! – we were well-pleased to be poured out in order that you might come to truly know this life which Christ imparts.  We are nothing.  Christ is everything.  And we are willing.

Does this describe you?  Does it describe me?  I can’t honestly say I think it does.  Certainly not at present.  There was a time, I think, when I was willing to pay a cost, at least in effort and defenselessness, to see God’s people preserved in a place where they could grow stronger.  I’m not sure that willingness remains.

Father, I am drawn inexorably to prayer this morning, because I feel the truth of that.  I sense a hardness of sorts, a callousing, which has no business being there.  Something has happened.  Some hurt has been left untreated, buried deep, lest I find myself required to look at it and do something about it.  Is it a hurt at what I have had to deal with in regard to my wife’s disowning of this church, or their disowning of her, depending how it’s viewed?  And if so, is it because they have hurt her, or is it something much cheaper, that it makes my participation more difficult?  I suspect that is much of it.  I know that the period I spent in leadership took far more out of me than I thought at the time, and I have found it far more difficult to reengage than I expected.  I see changes in the direction this body is going, and I honestly don’t know if it shall be for better or for worse.  I know that when I was asked if I would consider rejoining leadership, the negative response was strong.  No thank you!

But something’s not right here, Lord.  I am not as I should be.  If there is that which needs healing in this whole business, I pray You would work me through it.  If it is something more than that, I pray You open my eyes to what You are asking me to do.  And if it’s some other sin in me of which I am being willfully blind, open my eyes.  Help me to address it, to repent of it, and to reenter into this sort of loving, affectionate, selfless service to my brothers and sisters which ought to be the shape of my service to You.

I’ll simplify it.  Help me, Lord.

Selfless Service (05/18/22)

It is well that we find in ourselves a desire for fellowship with our brothers and sisters in Christ.  It would be odd indeed not to be desirous of the company of our family.  But if it stops there, what we have established is not a church so much as a social club.  We are not yet at that place of giving out of our own souls, our own lives.  There is a depth of care being expressed here that is far beyond mutual appreciation, or the sort of fellowship that transpires over a shared group meal.  You know, I can recall those few annual dinners at the grange hall in my younger years.  There may have been some small amount of comradery amongst us youths commandeered into service for those events, and I’m sure we learned a little something about honoring our elders, but as to getting to know anybody?  This wasn’t really an occasion for such things.  Folks who came sat with folks they knew, and conversation, I’m reasonably sure, stayed on that light, social level.  Nobody was probing conditions of soul with those in the next seat.  Nobody was breaking out in prayer for the difficulties their neighbor faced.  There may have been a time and a place for such things, but this wasn’t it, and their troubles, by the estimations of these good folk, did not reach such levels as required that sort of attention.

I suppose one could argue that in a farming community, folks knew real difficulties when they saw them, and thus would tend to discount anything of lesser concern.  Your barn burned down with the cows in it?  Yes, that’s bad.  We’ll both pray and help.  Comes of having to depend on a volunteer fire department, I suppose.  Of course, we’ll come to your aid, as you would come to mine.  But as to spiritual matters?  If these things entered the thoughts of the community, it was well out of my sight.  Call it a farming thing.  Call it a New England thing.  Call it what you will.  Whatever the sense of community was in places like this, and continues to be, by and large, it did not reach to the point of giving our own lives to see to the well-being of one another, let alone the spiritual well-being of one another.  But, brothers, this is our calling as concerns one another!

Look at Paul’s reminder of how these three functioned in the midst of ministry.  We labored hard.  We worked night and day at such jobs as we could find so as to support ourselves, in order that we might preach this Gospel to you without being a burden on you.  This is something far different than the televangelist, or those who minister merely to make a living.  Honestly, one must almost pity those who suppose themselves to have found an easy living in being a minister.  But pity far more those in their charge, for there will be no real ministry under such a minister, no tending to the souls of the flock to their eternal benefit.  Far more likely that such a minister is in fact a tool of the devil, whether consciously so or otherwise.  Those claimants to ministry who teach a different gospel, who fashion their sermons from the news rather than the Scriptures, who welcome any sort of belief and all but leave Jesus out of it, are not living sacrificially.  They are making sacrifice of their congregants, and that, to idols.

Not these three.  “By working night and day so as not to impose a burden on any of you, we preached.”  That’s the way the NET presents verse 9.  I don’t know as the text will bear that translation, really.  The nearest I can come to a term to be translated ‘by’ is pros.  Thayer’s Lexicon suggests the sense of ‘in order to’ in the instance of this verse, being connected with an infinitive.  That infinitive is found, though, not in the preaching, which is an indicative, but in the matter of being a burden.  The intent of this hardship and labor – and note that the terminology in view here is considering the sort of labor that takes all one’s strength and energy, leaving him utterly drained – was to avoid being a burden on those to whom they would minister.

That being said, there is something to that point the NET chooses to make noticeable.  It may well be, in fact we must say it is so, that Paul’s statement makes their self-support the point of their labors.  But still, this selflessness, expressed in practically burning themselves out in order to deliver the Gospel with no strings attached, no possible detracting influence from their behavior, did preach, didn’t it?  Sometimes, I think we shall have to recognize, our best preaching comes not by the Gospel proclaimed, but by the Gospel lived.  The singular devotion of these men to the impartation of this great good news without making claim to the resources of those to whom they preached, without seeking pay, not even a speaker’s fee, preached volumes in itself.  This is, after its fashion, the point Paul is making here.  You know our Gospel was real because you could see it at work in each one of us, just as we now can see it at work in you.

But it is the particular selflessness of this act of service that strikes me as the lesson to take from Paul’s reminder.  He’s not seeking to brag about their efforts.  That’s not the point.  There may be a bit of defensiveness in it, as it would seem there were those noising about the idea that Paul and friends didn’t really care about them after all.  It had all been for show, as it were.  That was rather obviously not the case, as Paul takes some pains to remind his readers.  But his reminders are gentle, not so much defensive as recollective.  Let them say what they will.  You know how we were with you.  You know how we expended ourselves to avoid any negative response that might come of our playing the usual itinerate philosopher’s role and seeking our upkeep at your expense.  No!  We worked ourselves to death, so to speak, to avoid any such appearance.  Indeed, those from Philippi, where they had preached previously did send, and apparently more than once, supportive aid to these three, but not at their behest.  It was a goodwill offering, a gift poured out by those who had received much, and in the same fashion.  They, too, had heard the Gospel free of any attaching cost apart from the everything that Christ requires of His elect.  But it was His price to charge, and to be paid in full to Him, not to these, His servants.

We preached by refusing to be a burden upon any of you.  We would not so much as take a meal from you except we paid for it.  The ministering of this gospel is not a profession like that of gardener or shopkeeper, or even of tutor.  It is something freely given us that we cannot but give out to you.  But it wasn’t just the imparting of a philosophy, nor even a mentoring in some new way of life.  It was true, spiritual development.  It was true care for those newly come to faith, that they might have faith in full, and faith in truth.  And this really ought to be our chiefest concern for one another, shouldn’t it?

How deeply do we care for our fellow parishioners?  I don’t even ask this of leadership, although it assuredly must be a question asked repeatedly of oneself in that role.  I ask this of the general populace of the church, of every head of household, of every fellow believer, myself first among them.  How deeply do I care?  I don’t much care for my answer, for I am far too ready to let you go off and believe as you like.  There is a deepening sense among us, I think, that we ought to leave wide berth for conscience.  You say you believe in Christ, and I shall take you at your word, even if your Christ would seem to be a very different fellow than the Christ I serve.  I mean, who am I to judge your knowledge?  I may very well be the one in the wrong.  So, we’ll just agree to disagree on the details, and nod sociably at such things as we can both claim to accept.

This is not, I dare say, what one would find happening with Paul, or Silas, or Timothy.  No.  It was too easy, and particularly with a congregation so recently drawn away from idolatry, for old ways, old practices to creep in and become part of this new faith of theirs.  We see it in spades with Corinth, don’t we?  Indeed, in some regards, the behavior of the Corinthians was becoming more reprehensible than that of their fellows in that city.  Even they, Paul notices, would be aghast at some of the things you have condoned.  But Corinth, as compared with the landscape of the church today, wasn’t all that bad.  That’s not to minimize their issues, but rather, to emphasize our own.  Where is the care for sound doctrine?  Where is the concern for Truth?  Where is the love for one another?  If it is shown in tolerance for error, it is, I think, no love at all, but merely the urge to avoid conflict.

We do much, anymore, to avoid dissent and disagreeableness in the church.  We do far less to address matters of sin and error.  Our idea of addressing sin and error, more often than not, consists solely of taking our leave of the place to go find another, more suitable to our perceptions.  Of course, it may be, almost certainly is, that we have simply packed up our sins and taken them with us.  Surprise, surprise!  New church, same old problems.  And yet, it somehow never occurs to us that the problem is not the church, but us.  Oh, that can’t be it!  I can’t be wrong.  But of course, I can be.

So, there is the nigh on sacrificial care that Paul encourages by his example.  We worked ourselves to the bone for you!  Not to support you and relieve you of your own labors, no.  But so as to add nothing to them.  We labored hard at our upkeep in order that when we turned ourselves to the care of your souls, there would be no distracting element.  This is our calling, brothers!  We ought to so care for one another, as to this matter of spiritual development, that we are made living sacrifices, one for another.  “I urge you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship” (Ro 12:1).  Don’t conform!  Be transformed.  Have sober judgment as to yourself.  We are one body in Christ, members of one another, each with our gift to be used for the edification, the growth and health, of that one body.  You are as living stones, being built into a spiritual house in which to offer up spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ, sacrifices offered by you, a holy priesthood (1Pe 2:5).  It’s the same message.  Pour yourself out, you servant of God, that you may indeed serve.

What would you not give for the spiritual wellbeing of your brother?  Paul declared his willingness to suffer loss as to his own salvation if only it would bring about the salvation of his kinsmen in Israel.  Now, you may account that a bit of hyperbole, and you may be right.  But I don’t think you’re right by much.  No, I don’t suppose Paul would indeed gladly relinquish salvation.  Who could?  Nor do I suppose for even a moment that Christ would make such a demand upon his servant.  But it’s rather like Abraham up on the mount with Isaac.  It’s a question asked.  How much would you sacrifice to see God’s purposes achieved?  Will you give Me your son, your only son?  Will you give Me yourself?  In both these examples, the answer is the same.  “Yes, Lord.  I will.”  Have we cause to answer with any less devotion?  Of course not.  Do we have it in us to answer as we ought?  That’s a harder question, isn’t it?

Paul and his team all but exhausted themselves for one reason only:  So as to present the Gospel with no burden attached, so as to maximize every opportunity for faith to be strengthened by sound spiritual training.  And I have to ask.  What of us?  How far would you go to see the family in the next pew come to greater depths of spiritual understanding?  How much would you risk in order to see that your fellow believer was divested of some erroneous belief, or some sinful practice?  How much do you pray as concerns the leadership of your church, that they would be men of sound faith, and able to set aside the ways and skills learned from the world so as to supply sound spiritual counsel and direction to the body over which they are to be given charge?

You know, we make much of the matter of elections when it comes to those set in governance over us.  We hear often enough the idea that if you didn’t vote you have no basis for complaint.  You’ll get some argument about that, and it’s certainly understandable, right or wrong.  We become conditioned to the idea that our vote doesn’t matter, and in a state such as this, so heavily vested in one political persuasion, a vote for any other can seem rather a waste of time.  But you don’t know.  God works in mysterious ways, and were you to withhold your one vote, and I withhold mine, and so on, then it’s really no wonder that there is no change.

Something of that same truth applies in the church, at least in a church governed as is our own.  If you can’t be bothered to be a member, then certainly, you’ve little room to complain of the leadership.  If you refuse to take up your own task in the well-being of the body, how, then, are you fit to judge those who do?  But let us assume you’ve at least taken that step of becoming a member, and we’ll assume further that you can stir yourself out of the house come Saturday to attend to a business meeting.  Oh, those are such fun, aren’t they?  And no coffee to be had, either.  Perhaps it’s just as well.  But part of the problem, I think, is that we see it as just that, a business meeting.  And we switch to a mindset better suited to the board room, or to town hall.

Our concerns here are not matters of budget, although those will certainly be discussed.  Our concern is with the spiritual leadership of this body.  We come to consider those we would have in leadership.  We come to assess those who will have charge of us for the next year or more.  Are these men of sound spiritual development?  Do they pray, and not just for their daily bread, but for the wisdom and strength to properly lead this church?  Do they pray for us?  Well!  And do we pray for them?  Probably not nearly so often as we know we should.  We’d rather kvetch.  And swiftly, we forget the example of Moses when the people grumbled against him.  They had no vote in his leadership, I should note.  He was appointed by God and that was that.  Others arose who thought they could be better leaders.  They were wrong.

But we vote.  And here’s our first question.  Do we even know these candidates at sufficient depth to know whether they are of a caliber suited to leadership?  Or are we assessing on worldly measures.  Oh, this one is a captain of industry.  He ought to do.  That one was an administrator for many a year.  He’s bound to have the skills needed.  But these aren’t the measure.  The measure is not that of worldly talents, but of spiritual depths.  Those are much harder to assay.  Oh, this one has been involved with the ministries of this church forever and a day.  Yes, but is he a man after God’s own heart, or just inclined to do these things?  Has he the wisdom, the discernment, the temperament to weather the challenges of leadership and to minister graciously and devotedly to this congregation?

I fear I have fallen far short of the goals I set here.  No, I haven’t been praying as I should, and yes, I have been, in many regards, complaining as I know I shouldn’t.  Well, then, I must accept responsibility for my actions, and for the results of inaction.  If I would take notice of the shallowness of spiritual concern one for another, then I must start with my own shallow concern.  I must, as the Scripture says, get the beam out of my own eye before I get all wrapped up in pointing out specks afflicting others.  I must cease being that beam.

And again I can but pray, Father, help me.  I am far from where I should be, and I would get back on course.  Do Thou guide my steps, and restore devotion, restore care in me, that I may serve You as I ought, and do so gladly, and yes, sacrificially.  As to the election of elders this coming Saturday, if there is any sound cause for misgiving in me, grant me the strength of my convictions to vote as You would have me do.  If these are indeed the men You would have guiding Your household, grant me the confident assurance of Your will to guide my vote.  And come what may, Lord, would You work in me on this matter of prayer?  It has been lacking generally, and self-centered when it does come about.  Remind me, then, to pray for those who serve You, and for those so in need of being served.  Grant that I might turn more outward in my faith, and move beyond these surface matters in my own words and actions.

Fatherly Instruction (05/19/22)

Paul continues to recall to their minds what the ministry to them had been like.  You know.  We have again that knowledge as ongoing result of past action.  You saw us, and you know this is true.  You were there.  And what was true?  They were exhorting, encouraging, imploring.  They were doing so constantly.  These are all present participles, stative actions.  Whatever circumstance arose, whatever occasion was afforded, this is what they were found to be doing. 

These ongoing acts of love, for that is what they surely were, were also individualized.  We acted thus toward each one of you.  These weren’t just blanket statements thrown out during the sermon.  There’s nothing wrong with such things, and the minister can be reasonably certain that any such statement will find some portion of the congregation responsive.  But I don’t think that’s what we have in view here.  These are matters of personal attention, personal tutelage in faith.  They are evidence of a lifestyle of mentoring.  With each one of you, we took time.  We got to know who you are, where you were at in your faith, what particular challenges you faced.  And we spoke into your life, into the place where you were, with these words of exhortation and encouragement.

We loved each one of you as a father his own children.  We undertook to train you, to raise you to a mature faith, as a father would his own children.  The father’s role, particularly in Jewish society, but also in society as a whole, certainly in that period, and ideally, in ours as well, was to be the chief over the family.  You can complain that it is sexist, but that really doesn’t matter at all.  It’s reality.  It was, certainly, in the timeframe within which this was written.  That’s not to say that there weren’t strong women of faith, nor that the women were uninvolved in the spiritual development of the child.  But the responsibility lay with dad.

Let me put it this way.  If the responsibility properly resides with dad, but he has delegated his responsibility to mom, or outsourced it to the church, or worse, to public educators, this does not relieve him of responsibility for the results.  After all, if there was delegation or outsourcing, it was by his choice, or at least with his tacit approval.  If, then, the chosen course produces failure, the fault remains with him for having not taken up his responsibility more effectively, more directly.  A father should, if he is a good father, be more concerned with the development of his child than anybody.  This, I think, is all the more true when it comes to matters of character.  The mother’s role is more that of nurture, as we saw in the previous part of this chapter.  The father’s role concerns the sterner matters of character and worldview.

Consider the significance of fatherhood in even the religions of the time.  God Himself is presented as the Father, as our Father.  There is, first and foremost, the sense of God being the originator or source of mankind, and particularly of that portion of mankind which has come to be of the household of God.  He is the origin of all things, the all-powerful creator of all that was created, which is to say, of everything that is not Himself.  And He Himself has no origin.  He has always been and ever shall be.  He has no Father outside Himself.

Now, He sets forth the animals in their various forms, and he sets down Adam amongst them, supplying him in due course with Eve to be his wife, his helpmate.  She is his equal, not his servant.  But she is set under his leadership.  In the course of events, Eve falls under the influence of the lies of Satan and violates that one rule God had set down for them, and having done so, leads Adam to do likewise.  And so he does.  But recognize this:  While Scripture does remind us that Eve sinned first, the responsibility remained with Adam.  It was Adam’s sin.  It was his failure as our federal head which brought about our fallen nature, not Eve’s.  When Jesus came to be born a man, it was the father’s role in his generation which required to be broken, not the mother’s.  Sin passed through the father, not the mother.  Righteousness likewise flows from the father, not the mother.

That is the model.  That is the intended order.  The mother’s role is highly significant, and without her nurture, the child suffers terribly.  But the father’s role, particularly as concerns discipline and character development, is critical.  If one wonders at the state of things in the young people of today, wonder no more.  We have known for years now just how devastating an impact absent fathers were having on their progeny, but it was something faced by other parts of society, not ours.  It was a problem for the poor, not for us.  But no.  It is, and always was, a problem for all.  And we are paying a hefty price for allowing societal manipulations to displace the father from his intended role.  We have made it easy for man to abdicate responsibility, and so he has.  He knows when he is not wanted.  But his absence has left us wanting – severely wanting.

So, see the father’s role in Paul.  He is deeply involved in the lives of his charges.  He knows them as their individual selves, with their individual strengths and weaknesses.  He ever encourages that which is good in each one of them.  Yes!  Keep doing that!  That’s great!  He ever exhorts, which we might suggest is encouragement towards greater things.  It is still a word of comfort, but perhaps with more of a ‘reach for the stars’ aspect to it.  You can be better than this.  You can do better than this.  It comes not so much as reproof as setting possibilities before their eyes.  See what He has done with you already, how much you have changed.  And see, by that, what else He is doing in you, and where you might expend your effort alongside Him. 

And that brings us to the third leg of this fatherly discipline.  We were ever imploring you, each of you individually, according to your need and stage of progress.  Now, I have to say, when I look to the definition of the Greek term used here, imploring is not the primary sense of it.  Marturomenoi – The basic meaning of it is to call as witness.  You can see it in there, with the root from which we take our word martyr.  A martyr was, first and foremost a witness.  In our usage, it is one who died violently because of his witness to Christ, and examples of such are sadly plentiful even today.  But the more fundamental meaning lies in having been called to witness, or being cited as witness to some truth.  There is, or can be, an aspect of invitation to this.  You are invited to speak of that which you have witnessed.  Tell the court what you saw, what you know of events.

But look at how this applies.  First, we can look backwards.  You are witnesses (and so is God).  You are martures – same basic word, but here in the form of a noun.  And here, Paul applies a specific focus for their testimony, as walking worthy of God who has called you.  This is our calling, really.  Yes, we go forth proclaiming the Gospel, and yes, that rightly focuses primarily on teaching from God’s Word in Scripture, and showing how His holy Word applies to the situations of present-day life, how it fits with the personal, individualized challenges we face day to day.  To be sure, it does apply.  It remains not merely relevant, but essential, if we would live lives worthy of being called life.

But here’s the picture Paul has painted:  Actions speak louder than words.  If our preaching is one thing, and our lives quite another, I dare say we shall find our preaching falling on deaf ears.  We have given but lip-service to our God, and demonstrated by our way of life that our stated beliefs are but surface decoration.  By practice we continue to show ourselves practical atheists.

There were plenty in Greek society who might have suffered the same charge in regard to their participation in the various rites of worship around them.  Oh, they would go through the motions.  To declare Caesar a god was no big deal to them, because frankly, they didn’t really believe the gods were anything.  And to such as these, news of yet another God, in the person of Jesus Christ would have difficulty taking hold.  Oh joy.  Another one to add to the array.  Whatever.  Yet, social pressures required that appearances be maintained.  One could go to the local temple, and have a meal, maybe have some fun, without really giving much of any thought to whatever god was being touted there.  You see some of that mindset coming over into the church in Corinth.  Yes, we can come worship God, and we can continue to take part in these other activities, since they have no real meaning anyway.  We can have one foot in heaven and one in society.  And God’s word comes firmly back saying, no you can’t.

So, there is this imploring, this calling to be a witness by your lives.  We encouraged the faith that was in you.  We sought constantly to stir you to greater faith, greater understanding of the God who called you.  And we implored you to testify to His very real being, and His very truly being in you, by living as testimony to Him who called you, by shaping your lives in keeping with Who He Is.

He is your Father.  We speak of fathers in terms of those who originate a thing, or an ideal.  We might speak of Pythagoras, for example, as the father of mathematics, or Ford as the father of the assembly line.  We may be right or wrong in making such attributions, but you take my point.  We set forth Washington as the father of our country.  Why?  Did he settle it?  No.  Was he even amongst those first settlers?  No.  They were long gone from the scene before he was born.  But he had such critical role in establishing this nation as independent from her European forebears that he is rightly viewed as our nation’s father.  He also did much, by his example, to establish how we were to view those who would lead us, not as kings all-powerful over our lives, but as servant leaders, giving selflessly for the benefit of all.  That’s hardly to suggest that all, or even most presidents to follow pursued such an understanding of office, and I fear at present that office has devolved to be something it should never have become, something far too near the tyrant’s model.  But he set a standard for future generations to follow.  He could not ensure they would follow, but he could set that standard, and encourage it.  He could act the father to his nation in this regard.

That’s the sort of thing we have going on with Paul and company.  We acted the father.  We set forth a standard for you, not merely by our idealistic words, but by our living, breathing example when with you.  We lived in this manner before you as encouragement for you in your turn to live in this manner before the world.  There is your witness!  There is your, “Look what the Lord has done!”  It’s not in miracles performed in magic show fashion.  It’s in lives transformed.  It’s in lives lived out, and lived out loud.  It’s in that joyfulness that so defined the church in Thessalonica, that was so remarked upon by those who encountered the church there.  In spite of the pressures, in spite of the opposition, often fierce and occasionally even deadly opposition, there was joy in these people – such joy as could not be suppressed, as we would see in time, even by the worst predations of Rome’s emperors.

This remains the intended order for God’s people.  It remains the intended order for all God’s people.  We are, each one of us, encouraged endlessly to witness to the glory of the God Who resides within us by walking out our lives in a fashion worthy of His graciousness towards us.  He called you!  He called you by name.  He said, “You are Mine!”  You are My own beloved child, co-heir to My kingdom.  Now act like it.  Yes, dad.

What good child does not wish to honor his father?  In the governance of Israel under Mosaic law, it could indeed be a death sentence to do otherwise.  That son who would not uphold the honor of his father by his own behavior might well be stoned.  On the other hand, to be a son of the father was more than bearing his name.  Simon bar Jonah was not merely Jonah’s son by name.  He had character akin to his father.  We see it even more clearly with John and James, the sons of Zebedee, who continued their fathers’ trade alongside him.  They learned from him, and there can be no doubt but that their pursuit of fishing craft, and their knowledge of the waters around Capernaum reflected that learning.  There can be little doubt, as well, that their character and demeanor likewise reflected lessons learned from dad.

The example continues into the church of that time, and rightly continues into the church in our own time.  We may speak of it as mentoring or discipling.  But it’s a coming alongside one another.  We are equals, yes, and each of us building upon the same foundation.  But we each have our strengths, our particular advances by which we may impart to those coming after.  Wherever we are in our faith, there will be those around us who have not as yet come so far, and to these, we should act the father, as these men did:  Encouraging what is going well, exhorting to greater things, and seeking that they, as we, might fashion our lives so as to honor God who calls us.  By the same token, each one of us, however far we may have progressed in this life of faith, will find those around us who are farther along than us.  If you don’t see any such around you, I should have to suppose either pride has blinded you, or perhaps you need to consider whether the place you are is healthy.  But set that aside.  There is cause for us all to seek out those who can in turn serve as mentor to us.  We don’t wish to set them as idols in our lives, but we ought rightly to desire that we might gain by their example and their input, that they might be ones who become intimately involved in our own lives, truly knowing us as we truly are, and able to encourage that in us which is built well, exhort us to greater efforts, higher goals where perhaps we are stalled, and in all draw forth from us a living witness by character and deed to Him who called us.

This, more than anything, I think, is the ongoing work of the Church.  Yes, we have an evangelistic call as a body.  We can argue what that looks like at the individual level, but the call is there.  This is more fundamental.  We are called, constantly called, to edify one another, to turn our gifts and talents to the purpose of building one another up in holy faith.  And what greater can be done than to encourage one another where growth is happening, to stir one another to greater growth where greater growth is to be obtained, and to be intimately, individually familiar with one another so as to know when and how to call forth each other’s witness to Christ by our manner of living?

I note this, as well.  Paul points to his faithful exercise of fatherly duty towards these, his children in the spirit.  And not just Paul, but his coworkers as well.  We have set the model, and you have, as is testified to us by those who come to us from you, followed our model.  But know this.  God is your Father, and as we have acted fatherly towards you, so does He.  But He is a perfect Father.  He tends to you as we did when with you.  And He is faithful father to you, encouraging and preserving that faith which He has sent forth into you.  Take courage, brothers!  And find joy in the knowledge that God, your Father, remains deeply, intimately involved in your progress and your development.  Were it not so, there would be no progress, no development.  But being as it is so, your progress and development are assured, for it is and ever remains God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure (Php 2:13).

God's Call (05/20/22)

The God’s Word Translation offers an interesting breakdown of these last two verses in our passage.  “We comforted you and encouraged you. Yet, we insisted that you should live in a way that proves you belong to the God who calls you into his kingdom and glory.”  Yet, we insisted…  That is another view of this idea of calling to witness.  I can go along with their choice in this much:  That call to witness is insistent, and not as coming from these teachers, but rather from God who calls.  And that is where I really want to focus our attention.

God calls us.  This reality permeates Paul’s writings, and no wonder!  I was reminded, just moments ago, of his calling, as Table Talk happened to bring it up as comment upon God’s sovereignty in the lives of all men.  They were considering it from the aspect of how God raises up and disposes of those who would oppose His work or attack His children.  To be sure, Saul, as he was known then, was raised up in opposition and with a heart for destroying those who called themselves followers of the Way.   (I don’t think they had as yet taken to calling themselves Christians.  That would come a bit later.)  But he saw them as heretics, and treated them as heretics.  And God had seen fit to have his power grow for a season.  But then came that moment on the Damascus Road, and everything was changed.  He would not even retain his former name when that change had fully come, but seems to have resolved to be known only by his Roman name of Paul.

My point, however, is in this:  God called.  Paul certainly wasn’t looking to meet Jesus.  He had no question in his mind as to which of the myriad gods of that era might be real, and which were not.  He was certain in himself that the God of Israel was alone God of all, acknowledged or not.  And, I don’t doubt but that he had little care for whether the Gentiles knew it or not.  But as to his kinsmen, he wasn’t going to have this perversion of faith, as he saw it, taking hold.  Not if he could do something about it.  But he couldn’t, could he?  For the same God that had made Paul who he was, and had seen him granted authority to pursue his vicious intentions, saw fit to redeem this persecutor of the brethren.  And more than that, God saw fit to make of him one of the chief proponents of the new covenant established in Christ’s blood.  He was not a seeker, but he was sought.  He was not trying to find Christ, but he was found.  He was called.

There is variation in how much strength one finds in that term used for calling.  At its lightest, it may speak of invitation.  Thayer suggests that this is the force of the term here.  God invited you into the blessings of heaven.  I’m not sure we can take it in that light.  That, it seems to me, leaves too much down to us.  He’s calling, but perhaps we shall blow Him off.  Perhaps we’ll ignore it, as we’ve learned to do the telephone, given the proliferation of junk calls and fraudulent callers.  But as we see in that Damascus Road scene, when God calls, there’s no question of authenticity.  Who’s calling, please?  It’s me, Jesus whom you are persecuting.  Oh.  Oh dear.

I mean, can you imagine what must have been running through Paul’s thoughts at this juncture?  He can’t see once that first blinding flash subsides.  It’s had what would appear to be permanent effect on his sight.  He’s gone from this powerful place of zeal backed by temple authority to needing to be led into town by his companions.  That’s going to have an impact.  Add to this that he is now informed that the one who did this to him is a man he knows, or thinks he knows, to have been crucified by the Romans, and buried, entombed in the hillsides of Jerusalem.  Was he aware of the business with that tomb having been opened right under the noses of a Roman guard contingent?  Perhaps.  I don’t know how much that would have been broadcast in the temple, but no doubt he’d heard the rumors coming from these followers of that wretched man.

And now, here’s this voice saying, Yes, it’s me!  I’m the one.  You wanted those who belonged to the Way, well, you’ll need to deal with Me.  I AM the Way.  Now, then.  I see your passion for God, so Saul, why are you persecuting Me?  I AM.  I and the Father are One.  But, come.  You’ll see.  I will tell you what you must do.

And it is from this background that Paul ministers, and from this background that his doctrine develops.  God calls.  It’s no invitation to be considered and then accepted or rejected as one sees fit.  This is a call from the place of highest authority!  More, it comes from a place of ultimate power.  This is your Creator calling.  And with that in view, I think we must accept the stronger sense of this term, kalountos.  He is not inviting.  He is causing you to pass from one state into another.

You will note I put that in the present tense, and that’s because the idea is conveyed to the Thessalonians as a present participle.  It is a stative matter, a constant in their experience, at the very least, at the time to which Paul is directing their attention, that time when he and the others were there with them.  But I don’t think that state changed after their departure, nor would Paul imply any such thing.  It continues.  It continues for us in our own day, and throughout our days.  God’s call is stative.  It’s a steady condition in the life of the believer.  After a fashion, we could view it as a perfect participle, one of those cases where God acted in the past, and the effects are ongoing.  But that’s not what is said here, and I think we must bow to the choice that has been made.  It is stative.  You are called.  You are being called.  Daily, constantly.  I could take it to this point:  You are the called.

Will the passage bear that?  I don’t know.  But the idea, I think, is there.  God calls.  No, let me stress that.  GOD calls!  Who’s going to hang up on Him?  Certainly not the one He would have answer.  And to what does He call us?  He calls us into His kingdom and glory.  God, who will not share His glory with another, invites you into that very glory.  Remember that stronger force of the call:  Passing from one state into another.  You were a child of darkness, a stench and an offense to the nostrils of God Most High.  By rights, He could have squashed you like the bug you are, removing your offense from His presence.  But He didn’t.  Instead, He has caused you – caused you – to pass from that offensive state into this state of being found righteous before Him.  It’s not that you have suddenly become sinless and perfect, no.  But One Who Is, in that same ongoing, stative sense, has undertaken to bear your sins, to pay the full, due penalty your sins have incurred, in order that you might become the righteousness of God in Him (2Co 5:21).  This is amazing!  Truly astounding, that the God of heaven, Creator of all things, perfect in Holiness and Justice, should choose, of His own ultimately free will, not to destroy you for your insolence, but rather, to cause you to pass from your wretched state into a state of true and utter blessedness.

This is no mere invitation, that you might reject.  This is the command of your Sovereign Lord, unopposable in His might, of Whom we know full well that His determined will does not fail of coming to pass.  “So shall My word be which goes forth from My mouth.  It shall not return to Me empty, without accomplishing what I desire; without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it” (Isa 55:11).  God hasn’t changed.  This still holds true, and Paul, towards the end of this letter, reiterates the point.  “Faithful is He who calls you.  He will bring it to pass” (1Th 5:24).  Or, to continue my chosen emphasis, HE will bring it to pass.

In the meantime, here is your part:  Walk in a manner worthy of what He is doing.  You have passed from one state into another.  Let that show.  This is your foremost witness to His immaculate power which has so transformed you.  “Yet, we insisted that you should live in a way that proves you belong to God.”  That carries the same stative power.  We were constantly insisting this when with you.  And again, I think we can conclude that in reiterating the point, that same insistence is still active.  That same encouraging and exhorting are still ongoing.  And they will remain ongoing for Paul so long as Paul has breath in him by which to encourage, exhort, and insist.

I actually rather like the TLB for this last thought.  What is this witness?  What is it Paul implores them to do?  “That your daily lives should not embarrass God but bring joy to him.”  There is, after all, this tension that pervades the Christian life.  On the one hand, we are utterly dependent upon the finished work of Christ.  There remains nothing good in us, except where He has already achieved His transformative ends, and there is nothing we could do that would not continue to have all the merit of filthy rags.  Yet, on the other hand, there is this constant stirring to effort.  Undertake to walk worthy of what He is doing.  It’s not a function of earning His good will.  You have it.  If you didn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.  No, it’s an act of gratitude for what you know has been done on your behalf.  He has caused you to have place in His kingdom, and to show forth His glory.  He has given you purpose, empowered in you the purpose for which you were created.  Now, act like it!

God’s call is unopposable and irrevocable.  Yet, at the same time, it is not coercive.  How that can be, I cannot say.  But I know that it is.  I tend to think of it rather like this, and I’m pretty sure I need to thank Martin Luther for the mindset.  Prior to His calling of us, of His transferring us from darkness to light, we had zero understanding of what goodness truly was.  We sinned because sin was really all we knew.  We chose freely to sin, but only insomuch as it was the only choice we could perceive.  In that, freedom was lost, and we, had we but known it, were utterly enslaved to that sin we thought we had chosen of our own will.  But comes the Light, and we are finally able to perceive another choice, a far better choice.  Now, there is an option.  Now, the call of Joshua rings out:  Choose this day whom you will serve.  Will you follow these gods which are in fact demons, whose course leads only to death eternal?  Or will you follow the God Who Is, the God of Life, who gives life and light to man?  Who, seeing such a choice, would opt for the former?

I think we need to understand this well, as concerns those to whom we would bear the Gospel.  They who reject do so not from a stance of reason, nor even, really, from a stance of choice.  They cannot see that Light, and therefore cannot choose Him.  They still see only the one choice, and can discern nothing of the gift you describe.  It is just so much nonsense to them, like those who gave Paul a hearing in Athens.  They heard the words, but they did not perceive any sense in them.  They did not recognize the choice because, at least for that time, no choice was given them.  The power is not in Paul’s preaching, but in God who calls.  If He does not in fact call, then you may as well be chirping at them like a bird for all the impact you shall have.

All of this leads me to conclude that this call, this imploring insistence of Paul’s is critical.  They may reject your words, but they can’t deny your example.  Live it out!  Walk worthy.  Demonstrate, by your actions, by your constancy, by your uprightness and joy even when wronged, that this change has in fact transpired in you.  Show this God in whom you believe, this Jesus you follow, by actually following Him.  Make Him known by your transformed behavior.  You don’t need to perform miracles.  You are the miracle!  Those who knew you when will see you now.  How can they but ask what has happened?  But in this transformed, exemplary life you don’t need to be a nag.  You are not called to harangue.  You are called to be, to live in that aletheia truth of an outward life reflective of this true, inward change.

I think of that perception that is had of the ex-smoker, or the ex-drinker, or the ex-what have you.  It’s not enough that they have left this behind for themselves.   They become almost unbearable in their gainsaying of any who continue on.  Nobody is more vehemently anti-smoking, the thinking goes, than that one who used to smoke but quit.  There is, no doubt, some truth to that, and a large part of the truth lies in the weakness of the change.  Such vehemency comes primarily of concern lest temptation lead one to return to that habit.  I know my weakness, ergo I must strongly protest that you do nothing in my presence which might cause me to revert to old ways.

Some of us, I think, treat our conversion in similar fashion.  We know we have been transformed, but we account the transformation so weak that any least temptation could readily return us to our life of sin.  And to a degree, that’s true.  We are not immune to temptation by any stretch.  And yet, we are, for He who holds us in the palm of His hand is not willing that any, not even our stupid selves, should snatch us from Him.  None is able to do so.  And that none most expressly includes you and me!  “Faithful is He who calls you.  HE will bring it to pass” (1Th 5:24).  Knowing this, then, “I, prisoner of the Lord, implore you to walk worthy of that calling with which you have been called” (Eph 4:1).  Do so not as thinking to earn God’s favor, but as shining forth that favor He has already shown.  Do so as witness to the greatness of our God, our God who called.  Do so as evidence of what He has brought to pass, that others may see your joy in Him and perhaps, just perhaps, be that much more prepared to hear His call for themselves.

There is that old quote, generally attributed to Francis of Assisi, about preaching, and if you must, use words.  I’ve heard it said that this is, even if properly attributed, false advice.  The power, after all, is in the Gospel.  “How shall believe if they have not heard?  And how shall they hear without a preacher?” (Ro 10:14).  It is an argument for the primacy of preaching in the normative ministry of Christian faith, and so far as it goes, I concur.  But that does not preclude the message of a transformed life, a message imparted not by preaching, and demanding that you look at what the Lord has done in me, but rather by simply living it.  I’m sure I’ve made the point at least once already in this study, but if our daily example belies our claimed beliefs, our claims will assuredly fall on deaf ears.  Actions, as the saying goes, speak louder than words.  Actions are taken as the evidence that our words, when they come, deserve a hearing.   If the two do not comport, our actions will be taken as bearing the greater evidence, and our words will fall to the ground unheeded.

So, walk worthy.  Live like you believe.  Demonstrate by your quiet example that this transformation is real, that this passing from one state into another has truly transpired in you.  Live a life of invitation.  God has called you, continues to call you, and will continue calling until you are brought home at last.  Let Him, then, call through you, to reach those around you whom He would call.  Be an instrument in His hands, and live that life of gratitude that demonstrates not your worth, but His; not your glory, but His.  Do so not with fear and trembling lest you fall short and lose your inheritance, but in the full confidence of knowing that He is faithful, and He will bring it to pass.

Father, let it be so!  There is much in my walk that I cannot say demonstrates worth.  There is much about me that falls far short of reflecting the joy of knowing I am Yours.  Yet, I know You are with me, in me, transforming me, and You are indeed faithful to complete that work You have begun in me.  Only, let me be found in this place of joyous gratitude for what You are achieving in me, even when the way is hard, as it seems it is of late.  You know the frustrations I have felt this week, and the challenges that beset me when it comes to seeking to fellowship with this body in which You have placed me.  If ego has risen up in me, help me set it aside.  If arrogance and an overblown sense of self have corrupted my witness, cleanse me once more and set me on the right course toward home.  Continue, my Lord, Your work in me, and please, let me not be found a hindrance to Your work.  Let me live as a beacon of hope in this hopeless place.  Grant that I might serve as invitation to Your blessedness, rather than as an example of false advertising.  Be glorified, O God.  Be glorified in me, and if need be, in spite of me.