True Love (10/30/22-10/31/22)

It being Sunday, my time is a bit short this morning, but I should like to make a start on considering some of the ideas brought out in this passage.  I will begin by considering a few ideas that cover, shall we say, the generalities of these verses, and the first of these concerns the way in which Paul’s appeal or defense here addresses the nature of true Christian love.  He does not, in this instance, appeal to that agape love which so uniquely defines the relationship of Christians to God and to one another.  Rather, he utilizes a term we do not find anywhere else in Scripture, homeiromenoi, nor indeed in Greek writing generally, according to Thayer.  It expresses an intense longing, the strength of that longing leading to use of this unusual word.  Kittel observes how this captures the ‘peculiar nature’ of Paul’s attachment to this particular church body, a depth of feeling that impelled him to serve both in light of his holy commission and from heartfelt love for these people.

While the term is unique, even for Paul’s writing, I don’t think we can conclude that the depth of feeling was unique.  Nor should it be unique to those early Apostles.  At minimum, I would have to suggest that it ought rightly to apply to any minister’s affection towards those he serves, and that depth of affection must, in fairness, lead one to question the rightness of insisting that a former pastor ought not to continue in ministering to his former flock, when another has come into that role.  The dynamics I understand, and given that pastors are, like us, fallen men under the reconstructive hand of God, the need for caution and care is certainly there.  Yet, at the same time, the model set before us in these earliest days of ministry is not of such a nature.  The hand-off is not a cut off, nor is there evidence of resentment on the part of that new minister, that the former minister continues to do his part in exhorting and consoling the congregation.  They are not, after all, in a competition, nor vying for the affections of these believers.  Surely, the heart of one born of God is large enough to love both, and receive both.

This love which Paul expresses has been on display already in this letter.  In the previous passage, he spoke of it as being that tender care a nursing mother has towards her child, which truly borders on self-sacrificing care, if it does not in fact prove necessary to lay down her life for the life of this newborn.  Here, that love shows in the way of a father towards his children.  There is something here of character building, but not through cleverly devised exercises, rather through setting the example and encouraging – sternly, if necessary – the emulation of that example.  I really like the way the JFB expresses this dual role Paul takes up.  They observe that he instructed with the ‘mild gravity’ of a father, as he cherished with the tenderness of a mother.  There is something compelling in that idea of mild gravity.  It is not father as stern task-master.  It is not a tyrant father demanding compliance.  It is the dignity of the father, demonstrated character and seriousness.  He is not looking to be best buddies with his child.  He is not seeking to relive his glory years through his child.  He is seeking to see that child grow into the sort of adult he is, one with whom he would be pleased to colabor and associate.

He is, in point of fact, seeking that child’s best interests.  He is seeking that the child become a responsible adult in his or her own right.  He is ensuring that they have learned not merely the bare necessities of life, as the old Disney song goes, but the significant, serious matters of living godly before man and God alike.  This is something we like to think comes naturally to the father, when we concern ourselves with basic family life, but it does not.  For one, far too many fathers have not the established character themselves, and we know well enough that one can hardly hope to impart what he does not himself possess.  Add to this the modern propensity for absentee fatherhood, and the issue is exacerbated.  Not only is there no good character for the child to model his own upon, there’s no model at all.  And we wonder at the outcome.  It is no wonder.  It is the obvious and natural outcome of this abdication of responsibility.

And that way does not lie open to us.  It does not lie open to us in regard to our children conceived in the natural course of human behavior.  It does not lie open to us in regard to those whom we might, after Paul’s example, view as being our children in the Spirit; those who have received the call of Christ through the means of our ministering to them the gospel of Christ.  Let me make painfully clear that this is not to say that their salvation is owing in any way to us.  It is not.  It is wholly of Christ and solely of Christ.  But Christ Jesus uses the means of ordinary men themselves saved by grace to transmit His call to those who have yet to receive His grace.  We are ourselves an ordinary means of grace when we bear this gospel to the lost.  And if God should so choose as to bless our efforts and save some from among those lost by our willingness to so minister, what a blessing it is to them and us alike!  What pastor does not wish to see that his ministry has not been fruitless but has in fact brought many to safety from out their sins?

It can seem at times that we have lost this thread in ministry.  It has become more a matter of preservation than expansion.  In some cases, it seems to have become something of a poaching operation, as one church seeks to leach off believers from another to bolster their own bottom line.  This is rarely, I think, a conscious effort on the part of such churches.  It has far more to do with the fickle nature of the believer in the pew than in the concerted program of the leadership.  But the outcome is the same either way.  We aren’t so much producing new believers as shuffling them about.  And there is, by what is falsely thought a necessity, a tendency to look at the operations of the church like that of any other business.  After all, we must incorporate under the laws of civil governance.  We have a budget, and if we cannot meet it, we have a bank to contend with.  Somebody has to watch that bottom line.  But, beloved, the church belongs to Christ.  Yes, we must be good stewards of that which has been entrusted to us.  But that stewardship isn’t measured in dollars and cents.  It isn’t seen in garnered interest on our accounts.  It is seen in the investment made in those who constitute the church.  That’s where our investment must be.

This is exactly the sort of thing Paul is expressing here.  We invested ourselves in you.  We spent ourselves on you.  We laid no burden on you for our care, but saw to it ourselves, that we might minister freely to you this gospel of grace.  We instructed, as the JFB said, with the mild gravity of a father, and also with the personal attention of a father.  Look at Paul’s expression of fatherly care here.  I’m taking from the NKJV this morning.  “We exhorted, and comforted, and charged every one of you, as a father his own children, that you would walk worth of God.”  This is expressive of personal attention.  Paul didn’t just take to the soapbox on Sunday and then go off to his own business.  He didn’t stop at public proclamations to those who gathered at Jason’s house.  He gave each of them individual attention.

Is this not how a father addresses the specific needs of his individual children?  He doesn’t settle for general instruction at the dinner table.  He doesn’t call a family meeting and impart general advice, and leave it at that.  No.  He knows each child as an individual.  He understands the specific strengths and weaknesses of each one of his children, and undertakes to encourage their strengths and help them overcome their weaknesses, that they may each of them grow into an adulthood that enjoys its full potential.  This, of course, requires a depth of intimacy on the part of the father – and on that of the child as well.  The child that will not welcome his father’s example nor give ear to his father’s instruction can hardly hope to benefit by it, nor can the father succeed in compelling compliance.  Such an approach may give some temporary appearance of peace, but will lead only to bitter failure and resentment – and that, likely, for both parties.

It is no different for the pastor with his flock.  If they will not receive his instruction, there is naught he can do to force the matter.  Neither is it necessarily cause for him to reconsider his approach, if indeed his approach is to pursue ministry by following the example of our Lord and by delivering His word unedited and unaltered.  A faithful minister has no cause to get with the times.  He has no cause to become a man-pleaser.  Indeed, such a thing would be the worst possible outcome, even should his ministering appear to be utterly fruitless as things stand.  The fault is not, then, in his preaching, but in his hearers.

Paul knew no success in Athens to speak of.  Was this something off in his ministering?  I have probably suggested that very thing in past studies.  It seems, to our earthbound thinking, that he perhaps tried to play the philosopher there or to somehow fit in with the debates common to the city square in that place, such that it was his methods that failed and not the gospel.  But that assumes the gospel can fail at all.  It cannot.  It is the Word of God, the power to save, and this Paul knew perfectly well.  But he also knew that the outcome rested not on his fine delivery and careful argumentation but on the Holy Spirit sent abroad by the Father into the hearts of his hearers, that they might receive.

I think a wiser review of the matter must recognize that Paul was not inclined to shift his message to meet his audience.  As he had in Thessalonica, as he had in Corinth, I dare say Paul’s approach in Athens was the same:  To know nothing but Christ, and Him crucified.  This was the message of love.  This was the message to deliver the lost and oppressed into true and meaningful life and godliness.  This is our model.  This is our calling.  I don’t care if you’re one who has been called of Christ into a ministerial vocation or whether you are just called as a child of God, the purpose of life is much the same either way.  That purpose is, to take the Westminster Confession’s answer, to love God and enjoy Him forever.  But dear ones, if we love God, we will obey Him.  We will keep His commandments.  And chief among those commandments to us is that call to go and make disciples.

Barnes writes, “We evince a decided love for a man when we tell him of the way of salvation, and urge him to accept of it.”  He continues by observing that love is stronger yet when we tell a sinner how he may be saved.  I have to confess those sound to me like the same exercise.  What, after all, is the means by which the sinner can be saved, if not the way of salvation?  I suppose we might measure this as being a distinction between making converts and making disciples.  The convert must first learn that he is a sinner in danger, and that there is in fact an answer to his most urgent need, to be found in Christ alone.  I have just reread Jonathan Edwards’ ‘Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God’, and that sermon is a clear exposition on just how grave a danger that sinner is in, even if he has taken to occupying a pew of a Sunday.  It’s not just hearing a sermon that makes the difference.  Hearing Paul was insufficient to bring belief, as the people of Athens proved.  But where God is at work?  The plainest preaching of His truth will turn the trick.  And until that sinner is convinced of his deadly peril, there will be no cause for him to cry out, “What must we do to be saved?”  And oh!  When they do, what glorious good news we have for them, and how gratifying when they hear it to their relief, and lay hold of it to their eternal good.  A child has been born to the kingdom of God, and angels rejoice.  Shall we do less?

But then, shall we leave this child to make its way unaided?  I should think not.  Now comes the work of discipling, of training up in the way he should go.  That, I think, is what Barnes has in mind when he speaks of telling them the way of salvation.  In that first case, we have told them the way to salvation, but it’s not some one-time deal, though our salvation is in fact once for all time.  God does not fail, and He does not lose sheep.  He proclaims, as I have so often quoted of late, “I have called you and you are Mine.”  Fact.  But there remains the long labor of sanctification.  This, too, comes about in full dependency upon God who saves, as it remains the case that we can do nothing apart from Christ.  That shall always hold true, so long as life persists.  I dare say, that shall continue to hold true when life persists in an eternity spent in the immediate presence of our Lord and King, though the flavor of it might change a bit.

Here, though, Barnes speaks of the way of salvation, which I would take as being rather akin to the Way of which Scripture speaks.  Those who believed had become the people of the Way.  That Way is the Way of salvation, the Way of lives lived in godliness, lived, as Paul could claim for himself, ‘devoutly and uprightly and blamelessly’.  He’s not claiming perfection.  He’s not a fool.  But there is a trendline to the life of the man, and there is that same trendline in each one who has become truly a child of God.  We seek out those who are following Christ, that we might learn from their example, and so follow Christ in our own right.

Father, there is so great a challenge in this love.  There is the challenge of heeding the instruction given by those who have something of a fatherly role in our lives.  I don’t suppose at this point I can speak of any as being the father of my faith, at least none who remain in my circle any longer.  Yet there are those You wisely choose to set in the place of instruction over me.  And I must confess, I can be terribly headstrong, and too sure of my own understanding to take instruction well.  Of course, You know that, as You knew me better than I know myself.  Then, too, there is this urging of intimacy that is such a challenge to me even in my own household, let alone in the larger community of faith.  It’s not enough for me to plead off on the basis that this is just who I am and how You made me.  No.  You have instructed, and I must learn to hear and to heed.  I do recognize that I shall need significant help from You if I am to make progress, but then, I have that on promise, don’t I?  You have blessed me abundantly with everything needful for life and godliness, and so, it must be that I am richly supplied with all I might need to break out of this insular perspective and approach an openness and intimacy with my fellow believers, both in my house and in my church.  And this can only grow and spread to encompass a real engagement, a meaningful, maybe even fruitful engagement with those who are not as yet brothers.  I must confess a nervousness, even a certain fearfulness at the prospect.  But You are with me, and I am Yours.  So, then, let it be according to Your will, my God.  Let me be Your child, Your man.

Kingdom Glory (11/01/22)

I want to suggest now that the kingdom and glory of God, or if you prefer, God’s kingdom glory also permeate this passage, as they do the whole of Scripture, and as they ought do the whole of Christian life.  This love Paul has shown in imparting the gospel to them has been expressive of that kingdom.  The care taken in seeing to their growth in faith has been from the concern for that kingdom.  And assuredly, Paul’s attention to his own character and habit comes of knowing that the king of this glorious kingdom is ever watching, ever testing and weighing His children, His subjects.  It is this that drives the direct message of both this passage and of Paul’s ministry in general.  It should also drive our own life and ministry.  “We were exhorting, encouraging, imploring each of you like a father his children, to walk worthy of God who calls you into His own kingdom and glory.”

The Wycliffe Translators Commentary takes time to explore the nature of this kingdom, how it consists both in present experience of its partial realization as it is realized in us, and a future realization of the kingdom come in its fullness.  It is the certain and unshakable hope of that future, and the knowledge of our place in it by the grace of God, that keeps us steadfast and on course.  In this present, partial experience of the kingdom, we are not given to live isolated from our kinsmen in Christ.  We are called to body worship, to a gathered church, to the support structure of being among those of like mind and spirit.  There is every reason for that stern call not to abandon gathering together.  We need one another.  I have strengths which you do not, and likewise, you have strengths that I have need of.

It’s interesting that Saturday’s Table Talk happened to touch on the nature of our multi-denominational present, and to suggest that this is not in fact evidence of a church gone astray, nor a violation of that one God, one faith, one body standard set for us by Scripture.  The divides concern matters of profoundly held matters of faith, to be sure, but not matters that touch on truths of salvific importance.  We are not divided over the Trinity, or over the deity of Christ.  If these mark the dividing line, then division is not between Christian denominations but between Christian religion and idolatry.  We may, as that article observes, differ over matters of baptism’s proper application, and we both take our stances from best effort, carefully pursued understanding of what our shared Scriptures teach on the matter.  There are other such details in which one could quite reasonably, from sound, unquestionable motive of honoring God, arrive at contradictory conclusions as to how best this may be done.  These are, as we say, matters of conscience, and we have Scriptural support for the variance.  Some will count certain days as being particularly sacrosanct, others see all days alike in their sanctity.  Some will find it needful to abstain from certain foods, given their provenance, and others will find it acceptable to eat as they please, knowing God has provided all.  We might, I suppose add that some will seek to gather on Sundays, and others on some other day of the week.  Even this, in the end, cannot be said to bear salvific weight, I don’t think, though it does seem rather often to point to a sect wandering into idolatry.  It is not a foregone conclusion.  These are not matters of critical truth as concerns salvation.  They do nothing to detract from understanding that salvation is in Christ alone, by faith alone.  They do nothing to displace the rule of Scripture over the function of God’s house.  They do, however, form such bedrock principles in their adherents as would render peaceable coexistence rather improbable, except one or both parties abandon principled conscience in the pursuit of supposed unity.

But let us understand that even in our disparate denominations, we remain fundamentally one body under one Head, Jesus Christ.  Yes, there are necessarily exceptions to this, but again, these define what is or is not truly a Christian church.  There is plenty of room within the definition of Church to contain a wide variety of distinctions in practice.  But only so much room.  Where indeed, the church is the Church, it can yet be said that we are one body in Christ, even if we meet in separate buildings with separate services.  We can still unite in Christ though our practices may vary.  I recall how, in my earlier years with the Assemblies of God, we would at times need to visit our Baptist brethren that we might use their baptistry.  After all, the available waters on the Cape get rather cold of a winter, and it would be hard to convince even the staunchest new believer to go in, let alone the pastor.  But while there, we honored our brothers by willingly abstaining from certain of our own denominational distinctives.

It’s funny, in its way, that we see that these distinctives are no barrier to true and heartfelt brotherhood, and yet make of them bars for serving as members or officers of the local body.  It makes sense, I suppose, for we have our distinctives, and account them serious matters.  And we would hardly welcome just anybody into a place of leadership.  But it does make it harder, I think, to insist on, say, believer’s baptism for entry into membership.  I can see it as a bar to office, yes, for the officer has a rather conservatory role to take in guiding the church.  Yes, he is assuredly to be led of the Spirit, but his is not an office given to radical change.  To serve in Christian leadership is not an occasion to put one’s own stamp on the faith.  It is an occasion for utmost humility, seeking to continue and preserve that which is fundamentally Christ’s own workmanship.  There may be need for reform, and that is one thing.  There is no need for revolutionizing.  It is Christ’s church, and we are but stewards, whether as elders and deacons, or as members.  We represent.

It is in this light that we have, in a few places, Paul’s admonitions as regards the inheritance of the kingdom.  We know well enough, I suspect, the several places that list off unrepented sins that would disbar one from entry.  But here’s the great hope of the believer!  “He delivered us from the domain of darkness, to the kingdom of His beloved Son” (Col 1:13).  This is our present experience.  This has been done.  You abide in this experience.  You live in this kingdom. 

And yet, we well know that there is more to come, for we have other messages regarding its nature and our place in it.  The one I would focus on at present is this:  “I tell you, flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God.  The perishable does not inherit the imperishable” (1Co 15:50).  Now, being in the present a citizen of this kingdom, and most assuredly still in a body of flesh and blood, this might strike one as passing strange.  Does this mean I’ve fooled myself?  If this is the necessary precondition, then surely my present experience should know this new, imperishable body, right?  Caution:  You can find plenty of material trying to convince you of this very thing, that this imperishable body is supposed to be your present-day experience.  Well, I have to tell you, if this is the framework in which I am to spend eternity, I’m not at all certain it’s something to get excited about.  Preserving this present state as an eternal condition does not strike me as a blessing.  Nor is it even some supercharging of the present body that is in view, restoring it to youthful vigor.  For, if that were all it is, then youthful vigor would once more drain away.  Parts would still fail.  It would have been no more than a delaying tactic.  And such is the end-result of all man’s great efforts at lengthening his days.  They are, in the end, doomed to fail; can do no more than delay the inevitable.  Flesh and blood cannot inherit God’s kingdom, and I tell you without any doubt, His kingdom comes, and will come in full, to encompass all of Creation as it was in the beginning, as it does now, albeit in loose and unimposing fashion, as it ever shall be.  And your body just ain’t up to the task.  You can’t handle the future.  Not in this equipment.

Honestly, for those who have fallen into thinking that it is this present body supercharged, or some such, in which they shall inherit the kingdom (or worse, have done so already), I have to ask:  Is this present something you would really wish to preserve unto eternity?  Is this how you want to spend forever?  Look around you!  You remain present in the domain of darkness, even if your citizenship therein has been revoked, even if you remain here as an ambassador from foreign lands of Light.  But what sort of ambassador are you if all you seek is to preserve your ambassadorial office?  You’ve gone native!  Beware.

Here is the clarion conclusion of that commentary:  “Glory is future.”  It is not now.  How could we suppose this is the explosive glory of God revealed?  How can we suppose that this, even in our most confined personal space, is that which creation groans for?  Ours is not a faith given to resting on its laurels, satisfied with the present experience of confidence in eventual salvation.  It is certainly not given to supposing that this present experience, however redeemed and however gifted with graces of however supernatural and powerful a sort, is the ultimate goal.  Hear it, and hear it plainly:  “Through Him also we have obtained our introduction by faith into this grace in which we stand; and we exult in hope of the glory of God” (Ro 5:2).  We have obtained introduction.  It is not the point of that passage, and yet I would stress, that we have not entered in full.  Hope remains future. Glory remains future.  The full and entire consummation of the kingdom remains future, and it is only then that we shall have true experience of the glory of God, standing before us as He truly is, and us, having once died, able finally to love and enjoy Him forevermore, not in the flesh, but in that resurrection body which shall be ours at His coming.

In the meantime, the call remains, as it remained for Paul:  Edify one another.  Use your gifts not for personal grooming, not for arrogant display, but for the purpose for which they were given:  To build up your brother, to help your brother to grow, to be used to best purpose in seeing every member of the body grow to the fullness of the glory of God.  Exhort, encourage, implore.  Be as a father, or an older brother to your brethren.  Don’t lord it over them.  By no means!  But love them enough to care if they grow.

Father, this more than anything strikes me as the needed mindset of Your children.  Fellowship is well and good, but edification is much more to be desired.  Loving companionship is wonderful, but seeing one another grow is better still.  Watching one we love developing into a person of true godly character with a true desire for holiness before You:  What could be more rewarding?  Here is the place where we are called to impart our very selves.  Let us, let me, be found willing and ready.

Dual Aspect Ministry (11/02/22)

Paul turns their attention to the nature of his ministering to them, and it is something we should also observe and note.  He speaks of labor and hardship in the pursuit of their good.  The general point is that he was not calling on them to support him as he preached to them, but undertook to earn his own way.  We know how he did so.  He was a tentmaker, and he spent long hours at that task in order to cover expenses.  He would not so much as take a meal from those who were coming to Christ, except he paid for that meal.  This was not coming from some sense of unworthiness on his part.  Neither was it evidence that he was not an approved minister of the gospel.  Rather, it was a matter of principle to him, that he would not allow his prerogatives to become in any way a barrier to their receiving this gospel and growing in it.

This is what he is getting at when he says ‘we gave you our own lives’.  It was not incumbent upon him to forego payment, but neither was it incumbent upon him to insist on payment.  This attitude still carries into our own day, doesn’t it?  We sense that something isn’t quite right with that ministry that wants to charge fees for entrance.  There is something off when the ministry becomes more concerned with offerings than preaching, or when there is the appearance of such a mindset.  These are the ways not of the minister, but of the charlatan, and well we understand it, most of us.  It’s one thing to account the teacher worthy of his wages.  It’s quite another to have him demanding the place of honor, and a manse in which to dwell, and so on.  These are behaviors that shout out that they’re only in it for the money.  These are undershepherds with no concern for the sheep.  Have nothing to do with such men.

But Paul is clear.  There was nothing in the way of his ministry which could possibly give cause for such concerns in regard to him.  I poured myself out.  I labored by day to preach by night.  That labor, says the JFB, speaks to the spiritual side of his efforts, the hardship of bearing things.  It could not be easy on the spirit of the man to be so roundly rejected by his kinsmen, to know that they would stir up trouble for him wherever he sought to speak life.  It’s not easy now for the minister to preach the truth in love, when all about are those who, on the basis of zero evidence, proclaim the Christian faith to be a vehicle of hate.  But let’s hold that thought for the next section, if in fact I come back to it at all.

He labored.  It was no easy task he had set upon him, to bear this gospel into an unbelieving world.  It was travail, as well.  Tentmaking was a matter of physical, manual labor.  There was hardship in the doing of that work, and it may very well be that it was this hardship that led to whatever maladies Paul suffered.  We have good reason to think his eyesight suffered, and one can see how long hours in dim rooms working at this employment might have some effect.  We can see as well, how having his days so occupied and leaving him only candlelit nights in which to study Scripture, and give himself to such other studies as supplied his ministry with substance might also have an impact.  Not to mention, hunching over your work all day could not do much for physical wellbeing.  But this he did, and he did so gladly, if only so as to be able to preach the gospel freely.

Now, I speak of a dual aspect ministry in titling this portion of the study.  What do I have in view here?  Well, I’ll let Calvin speak to it directly.  “It is not enough that a pastor in the pulpit teach all in common, if he does not add also particular instruction, according as necessity requires, or occasion offers.”  Notice how Paul speaks of this.  We spoke with each one of you.  I’ll get to the nature of that speaking momentarily.  For now, stay focused on the individual attention given, for that is what he is emphasizing.  He didn’t just gather a crowd, berate them with the gospel for an hour and then get on with life.  No!  He was familiar with each one of these people.  He knew their particulars and their particular strengths and trials.  And he took pains to address each one of them as to their unique situation.

There is, of course, a general tone and direction to that ministry whether we consider the gathered, public aspect of preaching or the individual, private instruction given.  The components are much the same in either case.  They are, perhaps, more carefully aimed in the latter instance.  He exhorted, exciting them, as it were, to their duty towards God, towards each other, and towards the world around them.  Here is the father affectionately directing his children.  Here is that instruction of a parent training up the child in the way he should go.  And being a good and affectionate father to these, his spiritual children, it doesn’t stop there.

He encourages.  There is something to the saying that you get more of what you reward, and while fiduciary rewards are always welcome, it’s quite often enough to receive the encouragement that comes in response to your doing things well.  And, as we are considering godly character, that encouragement also concerns itself with motive.  It’s all well and good to do the job well, but if it’s done out of resentment, or done merely as an obligation one can’t get out of, well, what have you done, really, that is praiseworthy?  What is there to encourage here?  The surly child, giving his minimum compliance and making sure his parents are well aware of his dislike of the task, is hardly likely to get loud praises for a job well done, even if the job is indeed done well.  The performance is marred by the motivation.

Don’t think we escape this faulty compliance as adults.  There is much of the child yet in us.  Okay, I’m doing this, and I’m doing it because I love you.  But I’m not happy about it, no not at all!  And I wish to make plain to you that this is the case.  Look at my self-sacrifice for you!  Praise me.  Yeh, that’s not going to fly with your family, and it sure isn’t going to fly with God.  Remember where that exhortation was driving:  Towards an excited pursuit of duty.  Encouragement, we might say, gives us cause to pursue that duty not only willingly but gladly.  I like the JFB’s summation here.  “Exhortation leads one to do a thing willingly, consolation, to do it joyfully.” 

This is the hard task of preaching.  Or perhaps I should say a number of hard tasks of preaching.  It is not enough to merely impart information.  That’s actually pretty useless in itself.  If our preaching and teaching stops at discourse about syntax, or historical points, or even simply declaring, “Here’s what it says,” then we really haven’t done anything of value.  Honestly, most anybody could, should they so choose, manage this on their own.  But to exhort!  To observe how this ought to direct our day to day; to make painfully clear that this is what God obliges you to do, who would call Him Father:  That is a needful component, isn’t it?  Yet, if it stops there, what have we got?  We’ve got a Pharisaical demand for works.  Earn your way in.  Do this or you’re doomed.  I mean, there’s truth to it, so far as it goes.  But if that’s the sort of compliance you’re working up in those who would learn from you, you’ve done them no favors.  You’ve left them in the flesh, and flesh and blood cannot earn a place in the kingdom of God.

Yet, neither can sloth.  The phrase came up yesterday, talking with a few brothers from church.  There’s that popular conception of, “Let go and let God.”  And as with so many things, there’s some truth to it, but left to stand on its own, it leads us far astray.  Yes, God must do.  But this life of sanctification is a shared task.  Apart from God, we can do nothing.  This remains the guardrail to keep us on the Way.  But at the same time, we come back to that glorious news from Peter, that God has given us everything needful for life and godliness, supplying us with and from His own divine power (2Pe 1:3).  This is encouragement indeed, isn’t it?  It is also quite sobering.  We are left without excuse, after all, if God has given into our hands everything we need to achieve that which Paul encourages here.  You’ve been equipped, now walk worthy!

You know what’s required, for He has been so gracious as to spell it out for you.  It’s not a matter, I don’t think, of rigid, regimented performance of these duties with exacting precision.  It’s a matter of character.  “We were devout and upright, blameless in regard to you.”  There was holiness as to how they related to God.  There was uprightness, good character as to how they related to these believers – and for all that, towards outsiders.  They left no valid place for complaint.  The world would complain anyway, but its nattering would be utterly unfounded.

What Paul has on display here is what we might call a lifestyle of mentoring.  This comes atop the more public duties of the preacher and evangelist.  This, as I have probably said already, gets beyond the point of making converts and pursues the great commission, to go make disciples.  The excited shout of, “I believe!” is not the stopping point.  It’s barely the starting point.  There’s an old song of rather dubious source that tends to come to mind often as I contemplate this life of faith.  “If you’re a believer, what do you believe, and why do you believe it?  Don’t you ever wonder if it’s really true?”  Okay, so it’s multiple questions, and the song’s purpose was more to encourage doubt than faith, but the ear of faith can yet hear that and find answer, can’t it?  Yes, there are those times when we wonder, and guess what?  We discover that yes, it is!  Why do I believe it?  Because this God in Whom my faith rests, has proven Himself over and over again.  I love Him because He first loved me.

We can get into matters of being able to define and express your faith, and we should.  We can get into how one makes clear who this Jesus is, and presents Him as He truly is, and not as some idolatrous fabrication.  We can get into how one interacts with unbelievers, and sifts out the seeming agreement from true conviction.  How do we ensure that those who are nodding their heads about this Jesus truly recognize Him as Lord, truly understand that He is the only Mediator between God and man?  These are matters for teaching and learning, and encouragement that we might grow in our willingness and capacity to convey this Gospel accurately and lovingly to a lost world around us.  It will be labor.  There will be things hard to bear with.  First and most obvious, there will be manifold rejections, and that is hard to bear.  The mere thought of that may discourage us from speaking in the first place, for nobody likes to be rejected as to their most dearly held beliefs.  Well, beloved, consider:  This is pretty much exactly how your listener is feeling.  You are rejecting them.  You are informing them that God rejects them, because He rejects their lifestyle, their life choices.  Somehow, we must make that point, but get beyond it to the good news.  Somehow, we must get past their own feelings of rejection to bring something better, perhaps we can speak of it as conviction, for that’s what it is.  But if it doesn’t find a path to ask, “What, then, shall we do?” then we have left this poor soul to continue its way towards death eternal.

We must be able both to convict and console, to exhort and encourage a real repentance, and to hold out the assurance of real hope.  And we must give it concerted, lasting effort.  The quick accost on the street won’t do it.  You might get a positive, emotionally charged response, particularly if the one to whom you are speaking is at a particularly low point in life.  But if there is not engagement, if there is no personal investment in the hard work of discipleship, that one will quickly return to former ways.  It will be seed cast among stones or thorns, producing nothing.  So, there’s this lifestyle of mentoring.  There’s this call to get beyond surface conversations, and spiritual back-slapping to the hard work of discipling.  Without this, the church will never amount to anything than a social club, a place for the select to gather and feel good about themselves, while serving no earthly good for the One they claim to serve.

All of this, as we see from Paul’s example, we must pursue with the affection of a father.  Matthew Henry takes pains to point out that it is not fatherly authority, but fatherly affection to which Paul draws our attention.  This is not to be a lording it over your listeners.  As if that could hope to work!  That way will have enough trouble connecting with the elect.  If you happen to be serving as an elder, and take this sort of approach to your office, well, what can I say to you, other than, get back to Scripture and learn your office!  “Gentile rulers lord it over their subjects, and exercise their authority over them.  Not so among you!  If you would be accounted great, serve!  If you’re caught up with being number one, you shall find yourself the slave of another.  Even so, the Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, giving His life as ransom for many” (Mt 20:25-28).  There’s our model.  There’s our Lord.  Walk worthy, you who would lead.  Walk worthy, you who would follow.

And so long as we remain, let each of us take up this fatherly duty towards one another; to exhort to this worthy lifestyle, to encourage that which each of us is doing well, and to implore after change where it is needed.  Let us be so among ourselves, and let us also grow in our willingness and capability to behave so towards those who still need to hear this great good news which has been entrusted to us.

Father, may I, as I have prayed before, come to be more outward in my faith, more outgoing.  May I be one to exemplify this which You are preaching to me, to move beyond surface conversations and into this lifestyle of mentoring, even in such brief encounters as may transpire at church.  May I grow into a boldness to explain this joy that is in me when asked, and may I come to comport myself in a manner that would give rise to that sort of question.  May I, in short, be useful in Your kingdom in accordance with Your design.  Amen.

Dual Aspect Testimony (11/03/22)

Together with Paul’s appeal to the two-track approach he took to ministering among these believers, there is also notice of a twofold testimony two his ministry.  “You are witnesses.  So is God.”  Now, in and of itself, that’s not much of a claim.  It is, rather, a bare statement of fact.  And it is true of every one of us.  As we go through our day, whatever our pursuits and whatever the setting, those around us are witnesses, and so is God.  Our greatest challenge may well be that we tend to focus on the one to the exclusion of the other.  For most of us, that’s going to translate to concerning ourselves with the witness of our fellow man, and becoming somewhat forgetful that we live before the face of God.  There are some, however, who slide off in the opposite direction, becoming so singularly concerned with what they suppose to be God’s judgment of them that they are utterly neglectful of how they are perceived by others.  Before I explore that thought further, though, let’s look more at what Paul says of this testimony.

He doesn’t leave this at bare statement of what is true for every man.  He observes what they are able to testify about him.  We behaved devoutly and uprightly.  Now, as to devoutness, it must be admitted that man can only surmise.  We see, after all, only appearances, and appearances can disguise an evil heart with seeming pleasantness and forthrightness.  I can, to a goodly degree, determine whether you have deal uprightly with me, been just in your dealings, or whether you’ve been seeking to take advantage of me, to rob and steal.  I can, in other words, assess your actions, your outward deeds and the words you may speak.  But I cannot judge the heart.  I can only sense it as best I may through the evidence you present in word and deed.  But as I say, word and deed can lie about the heart, at least to a point.  Word and deed can lie about a heart sufficiently for the wolf to gain entry and gain hearing among the sheep, they all the while supposing him just another sheep such as themselves.

This being the case, to stop at indicating that they were witness to how Paul and company spoke and acted is of limited value in and of itself.  So, Paul calls his second witness.  God knows.  And what God knows is the devoutness in which they pursued their course.  They knew that what had been done in reference to man was done from a determination to be honoring to God.

There is wide agreement amongst the commentaries that this association holds:  To God belongs the testimony to devoutness, and to man belongs the testimony to uprightness.  There is some variance, however, in what to make of it.  Clarke, for example, suggests this devoutness is directly concerned with behavior in reference to God.  In other words, in his view, Paul is appealing to behavior in both cases.  I suppose at some level that’s accurate enough, but behavior gets us back to thinking in terms of outward works.  I think there’s something far more important going on here in this distinction of terms and witnesses.  Both the JFB and the Wycliffe Translators Commentary point to it:  The Thessalonians knew his conduct.  God knew his motives.  Actually, the JFB sort of bridges the two perspectives together in assessing that by knowing his motives, God knew that he was holy towards God and just towards men.

Perhaps the simplest view here is to say, “You are witnesses to this, and God confirms it.”  In other words, what you saw in us is indeed who we are.  What you testify as to appearance, God testifies to as being the true inward state.  I am back at aletheia, I see.  There is no pretense, no hypocrisy to the way these ministers present.  What you see is in fact who they are.  It is not an act put on for your benefit, or to seek advantage of you.  It is the true representation of these men who truly are devoted to God and to doing what is pleasing in His sight, concerning themselves with what concerns Him, loving those whom He has called His own.

Now, there is one aspect of this that the JFB pulls out specifically, as to the blamelessness that Paul appends.  Actually, it hinges on the verb Paul applies to end the list, egenethemen, which the NASB translates, ‘we behaved’.  What the JFB picks up on is that this is presented in the passive voice, rather than the active, and this, I have to say, does seem rather a significant point, although I shall have to be careful here.  At root, the term would appear to be a deponent middle form, which would likely bear an active meaning even in its middle form.  But it speaks of becoming, or being caused to be.  It’s interesting to see, in the Word Study Dictionary, that this is terminology used in regard to God’s acts of creation in Genesis.  He spoke and it came to be.  It is, then, a view to the result of action, leading perhaps to a state or condition, or a change of state or condition.  It’s hard to say, then, what exactly the force of the statement should be, but the JFB takes it as indicative that they were made to be, caused to be of such character as Paul has expressed.  That is to say, if their behavior is indeed unblameable, it is because of God’s work, not their exertion.  I think at minimum we should recognize that this testimony of character to which he appeals is not to be directly connected with the labor and hardship of which he spoke in the previous work.  Those spoke to the intimacy of his ministry, his willingness to be expended for their benefit, and certainly give evidence of his uprightness of character, but without right motive, those alone are nothing, or near enough to.

As I say, whether the term will properly hold that sense the JFB wishes to apply, there is something to it, isn’t there?  This wasn’t Paul, Silas, and Timothy focusing on making a good impression.  They weren’t focused on making an impression at all.  They were focused on being true to God and presenting His truth truthfully:  Earnestly, accurately, and in full.  This they did by preaching.  This they did in personally applying God’s truth to the specifics of life for each individual with whom they dealt.  This they did by living out their belief before man.

I find this line of thought rather echoing something I had said in earlier notes on the passage.  “Christ cannot be shown strong when I’m busy showing myself.”  Isn’t that the point here?  If these ministers had been all about presenting well, then there would be little enough left for actually presenting.  It all becomes about performance, about appearance, about looking right, sounding right.  It becomes about man alone.  And that will never get the job done, when it comes to presenting the gospel.  That will never get the job done when it comes to living godly, walking worthy of this God Who has called us His own.

I could apply it even to these morning studies.  If I concern myself over much with how it will present on a website – not that I suppose anybody reads it, but it’s there – then it’s going to start to shape how I write, what I am willing to include, and what I prefer to keep to myself, thanks all the same.  If I get too caught up in what Microsoft thinks proper grammar, then I am not caught up in pursuing the lines of exploration that I feel God has for me to explore.  If I’m too busy showing off my amateurish chops with the Greek language, then I become so distracted by baubles of language as to leave no room for the significant matters of actual application.

Well, then:  If I am all exercised about trying to make a good impression as to my devoutness and uprightness of character, does not the same apply?  I’m too caught up in works pursued in my own strength to leave room for God to work in and through me.  I am, even with such seemingly godly ends in mind, too full of myself, and too empty of God.  The real testimony, the meaningful testimony, comes not of those things we do in hopes of impressing – whether it is God or man we seek to impress.  It comes of those things we do almost out of habit, the things we do by nature.  Mind you, it is hard to set that phrase ‘by nature’ alongside things done from a true heart of holiness, for we know the foulness of our nature according to the flesh.  But that is no longer our sole defining feature.  We have been reborn, renewed in spirit through the renewing of our minds.  We have been equipped and trained to new habits.  That which comes by nature, as it were, those things we just naturally do because it seems to us the obvious thing to do, or the things we say because it is clearly the right thing to say, reflect something far higher than human nature and human reason.  God is forming in us a character like unto His own.  The Holy Spirit indwelling speaks to our conscience, whispers in our inward thought.  And as we grow and mature, that whisper can become, I think, somewhat softer because the need for constant directing and correcting lessens.  It doesn’t cease certainly.  The old man has still too much influence in us.  But we improve.  Like the baby Paul speaks of nursing, or the young man he here has instructed by his fatherly advice and example, we gain in the capacity to do what is truly holy and upright without needing to think about it, without needing so often the reminders of conscience to steer us away from our innate tendency for error.  We grow.  And we seek, as these ministers did, to help our brethren to grow.

In doing so, as I see here, it is not just the Gospel proclaimed that matters, although that most assuredly matters greatly.  But sometimes, perhaps often, the best preaching comes of the Gospel lived.  Indeed, as I have often observed, and quite probably even in the course of these notes, if word is not accompanied by harmonious action, those words will fall flat.  I could take it in another direction – and again, one I have no doubt already spoken of even in this study – and suggest that actions pave the way for words.  If we come at a stranger with nothing but our questionnaire, or some canned speech we have rehearsed for just such an occasion, we won’t get very far.  Oh, God may very well see fit to use these efforts, and to bring fruit of them.  But it strikes me that where the Gospel really gains a hearing is where the lives of those who would speak it are known to the hearer.

It may be that they knew you when, back in those days before you heard Christ’s call.  Now that, admittedly, can cut either way.  It may make room for questions as they perceive the change in you.  It may render your testimony suspect because it is so at odds with the you they knew.  But even then, I would have to say that if your manner of life at present truly and consistently expresses the change of character, the change of life and spirit that has transformed you so, then sooner or later, even those who knew you when will have to acknowledge that you are very different now.  And I should think they would have to conclude that this new you is a heck of an improvement over the old model.  Now, they may bristle at the devoutness, because light has this nasty habit of exposing deeds done in darkness.  But they cannot fault the uprightness, the faithfulness, the downright goodness.  And this gives opening, doesn’t it?  It may come in the form of, “What happened to you?”  It might come in complaining form, because you no longer participate, no longer join in the fun like you used to.  It may be more positive, as they see the positive change and find something in it tugging at their own desire for improvement.  “What changed?  How did you escape?”  And then, as I think nowhere else, there comes opportunity for the Gospel preached.  Is this not the same Holy Spirit indwelling us now working upon their hearts, and rendering them ready to receive?

I think of the reaction my wife had yesterday.  We were chatting with a neighbor we’d not met before, discussing some shared interests in gardening and wildlife.  Another of her neighbors came by walking his young pup, which naturally gets my attention.  But the season being what it is, he genially asks how we enjoyed our Halloween.  Oh dear.  I’m sure he thought the question benign, little more than asking how we were enjoying the weather.  But this is not a holiday in which we participate in the first place, and more year by year, it is a point of serious concern for my wife – I dare say, far more so than myself.  I can, for better or for worse, accept that most who make such display of celebrating this day see in it nothing more than a bit of fun, something for the kiddies, perhaps, or something to fend off just a bit the coming grey of winter.  As obnoxious and downright perverse as the display may be, and really, rather inexplicable if one just stops and considers what they are doing, it is not in fact an act of worship to Satan.  But my wife cannot dismiss lack of motive.  It is the act itself that serves as worship, whether or not your heart was in it, and it invites evil.  And she being who she is, cannot simply leave off at, “We don’t do that.”  Well, reception was polite enough, as reception will tend to be.  But I dare say, for all her dire warnings and pleadings, I sincerely doubt she got a hearing much beyond, “What a loon.”  It’s not that her concerns weren’t heartfelt, certainly, and it’s not – at least for the most part – that her concerns were misplaced.  It’s that launching into such a discussion with somebody who doesn’t know you beyond perhaps seeing you walk by every few days isn’t going to get a hearing.  There’s too many ready avenues for rejection, and you’re dealing with folks who will grab hold of the first avenue they can find to veer off your concerns and return to their happy and familiar habits.  It’s for the kiddies, after all!  Or, as one there described it, “We’ll just block out the evil with good feelings.”  Yeh, okay.  That’s not going to work, now is it?  But what didn’t happen, what was most unlikely to happen, was any serious consideration given to what was being said.  It was mostly the polite response of, “How do I make this stop without giving offense?”  There was no lived Gospel to open passage to the Gospel proclaimed.  It was, I fear, a distinct case of casting pearls before swine.  Of course, I could be wrong.  God could opt to use those seeds to good effect, but it would be in spite of rather than because of.

One last train of thought to pursue on this head.  I have noted, along with so many commentaries, these two tracks of testimony:  God and man.  But there is actually a third, isn’t there?  For when we come to man, we come to two cities, as it were, to take Augustine’s idea.  There is the city of God and the city of man.  There is the camp of the believers, and the masses of the unbelievers.  Paul, in calling for testimony, closes out that second part.  His testimony is ‘toward you believers’, and the testimony he seeks is from those same believers.  It’s not the reports of the opposition that matter.

I shall have to digress briefly, with that note.  There is this business of the coming Christmas holy day, and what has been made of the ‘holiday season’ surrounding it.  This, too, is a great concern for my wife, and has been cause for question in past years for my own growing faith.  And while I don’t have any great interest in the decorating and the gift exchanging and so on, yet, it is a high holy day of the Church, and it is an annual marking of that most – or second-most – critical day in history:  The day in which God came down and dwelt among man, becoming man so as to take up His office as federal head of this reborn tribe of man.  He came down to live as a man, in all the weakness of human flesh, so as to fully obey and complete the whole of the Law, to satisfy the covenant and make possible the restoration of relationship with God for His people.

What brings all this up is the book which my beloved has tried to get me to read over and over again, hoping I might join her in vehement opposition to even the word Christmas, let alone all the trimmings associated with worldly observation of that event – and yes, admittedly those trappings find their place among believers as well.  But having started the painful slog of reading that text, I find it makes reference rather constantly to sources outside the city of God, and indeed holds these up as being the necessary place to turn to get accurate testimony as to the Church.  How wholly at odds this perspective is to what we see here!  I’m sorry, but while I may hear an occasional, accidental truth expounded on NPR, I don’t construe that as my reliable source on matters theological.  And as to Dan Brown and his novels in regard to ostensible conspiracies in the Church, well, first off:  It’s a novel, not a historic accounting.  Second, it does not come from a place of faith, but from a hope to utterly discredit.  After all, discredit the source of light, and we can get back to our comfortable darkness without concern about being disturbed.

Paul was contending with plenty of similar attempts to discredit and destroy both the ministry and the man himself.  We see it only slightly in this passage of defense.  It is much more clearly seen in other letters.  They kept trying to tear him down, particularly those of his kinsmen who continued to see this new Christian religion as he once had, as a dangerous and heretical sect – and worse, one that was making significant inroads.  It must be stopped!  And they would do anything, act most egregiously, if only it would put paid to this new belief and return them to their place of primacy.  And how does Paul defend himself?  By and large, the message is quite simple.  Let them say what they like.  You know.  They may attribute all manner of self-serving motives to me, but you know how we were among you.  You saw how we lived, and you know it was utterly consistent with our faith.  What we taught is what we lived, and what we lived is what we taught.

Beloved, the message is clear, and the Wycliffe Commentary just makes it clearer still.  “Only the faithful can judge the faithful.”  You know, we are given cause and instruction to be very careful of accusations made against the elders, even from within the visible body of the church.  “Do not receive an accusation against an elder except on the basis of two or three witnesses” (1Ti 5:19).  Mere opinion, or wounded pride isn’t sufficient.  Rumors and innuendo are not the stuff of righteousness.  Indeed, such attacks reek of wolf attack, don’t they?  I suppose we can be charitable and suggest that it is a believer misled, perhaps succumbing to the flesh, perhaps merely misinterpreting incomplete information and putting the worst spin on it.  But whether from malicious intent or being duped, such a one has become a tool of the devil seeking to discredit the ministry.  In that moment, at least, he can no longer be viewed as being among ‘the faithful’.

What holds for the individual elder assuredly holds for the Church as a whole, or if you prefer the local body of the church taken as the sum of its parts.  Let them say what they will.  You know how we were.  “Only the faithful can judge the faithful.”  Let it be said and accepted that there is great benefit in hearing the complaints with open ears and honest self-assessment.  If there are indeed matters gone askew, best we know of it and undertake to repent and reform.  But such opinions, built on a fabric of outside ‘evidence’ and perspective, are in no position to pass judgment. 

“A natural man does not accept the things of the Spirit of God; for they are foolishness to him, and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually appraised.  He who is spiritual appraises all things, yet he himself is appraised by no man” (1Co 2:14-15).  That’s one of those sections where Paul is having to more directly defend himself, or deliver an apologetic for his ministry.  But the point holds, and it holds not only for him, nor for those of the Apostolic age.  It holds throughout the ages so long as Christ tarries.  A natural man does not accept and cannot assess.  Let him say what he likes.  Only the faithful can judge the faithful.

Here is perhaps the most significant place to apply that song we teach our children.  “Be careful, little ears, what you hear.”  Yes, there’s plenty of ground for that in avoiding the constant drumbeat of sin.  But there’s a lot to be said in regard to its advice when it comes to these unsuited, ill-founded attacks on the Church which is, after all, founded on and by Christ Jesus.  It is His.  He is fit to judge.  He alone.  So, be careful, little mouth, what you say.

God in the Driver's Seat (11/04/22)

I discussed how the kingdom of God is a matter both of present experience and future hope.  But there is one other aspect we dare not lose sight of, and that is that it is His.  It is His kingdom, and it is He who does the calling.  The Father has called you.  This is Paul’s message to these believers, and to us who believe today.  Paul has done much to establish his credentials as speaking the word God entrusted to him, commissioning him to go out as God’s own spokesman.  He has recalled to their minds many things that give evidence of his God-given mission, and his devout pursuit of that very thing with no thought for himself.  All of that, as we now see, was not a matter of Paul polishing his credentials, and not even primarily a matter of defending truth against the lies of the enemy.

I know we have looked at it in that light, and it does seem probable that there is some of that defending apologetic to his message.  But as we come to verse 12, I think we must find this defensive posture a secondary consideration at best.  He has established himself as speaking authoritatively for God, from God, in order to deliver this message to those to whom he speaks:  God called you.  This is where doubts really tend to creep in, isn’t it?  It’s not that we have doubts about the preacher, it’s that we have doubts about ourselves.  We see our continued falling into sin, the way our flesh still rises up to take over again the moment we let our guard down, and it can bring us to that place of wondering.  Am I really saved?  Did I truly hear that inner call, or was it just the excitement ginning up an emotional response?  Well, here is that doubt put paid.  It’s real!  God called you, and He called you into His kingdom.  He is Lord, and as Lord, it is His to decide.  You cannot force your way in.  You can’t even deserve your way in.  But the Father?  Your Father?  Oh yes, He can call.  He can opt to be gracious towards you, and declare you not merely a citizen of His realm, which was already reward far and away beyond what we could reasonably hope to receive.  No!  That wasn’t enough for His love.  He has adopted you! 

Again, with adoption, we have clear view of an act which we fully understand cannot possibly be initiated or forced by the adoptee.  Strip away the emotional aspects, and the adoptee has no standing upon which to pursue such a thing.  Adoption is, after all, a legal process as well as one most intimately personal.  And its significance was, and generally is such that in the eyes of the law, an adoption once finalized is beyond possibility of dissolution.  A marriage might end in divorce, but adoption cannot end in disowning.  This is binding, and it is binding fundamentally upon the one who adopts.  The Father, in calling you into His kingdom and adopting you as His son or daughter, has made covenant with Himself in doing so.  There is no higher authority by which He might be called to account, no governing power that permits His act of adoption or enforces it.  He is that authority, and He both permits and enforces this adoption upon Himself, just as He undertakes to make covenant with His people in every other regard. 

We mustn’t lose this understanding.  This is your status, and it’s not subject to change. Thus it is that Barnes observes that this gracious adoption by Him is the determining factor as concerns our eternal future.  This gracious adoption has rendered us citizens of His kingdom and members of His household, and it is in this adoption that we have set to our account every blessing of Christ.  God has chosen you!  God has decided to make you His friend!  Can you imagine?

Can you imagine how deeply this must have hit Paul?  We know well enough just how thoroughly and vehemently he opposed this same gracious act of God, and sought to destroy those who received it.  The man was a terror.  And yet, rather than strike him down for his insolence, God called.  God chose.  God made him a most devoted friend, a child of His kingdom in full receipt of such of those kingdom blessings as pertain to the present age.  And then He sent His good friend forth to bear news of this amazing grace to one and all, through him calling many to this same gift of honor.  And that gift just keeps on giving of itself.  Through many ages it has continued, the message carried forward by faithful men, proclaimed freely, gladly, and indiscriminately, that all whom the Father would call may hear and receive this same adoption into His kingdom and His household.

It would be easy enough to look around in despair today, but there is no more cause now than there was then.  You think the probabilities for God looked good in that era?  His own people were, those who had known themselves as the chosen people for age upon age already, rejected His offer and fought to see those who bore the message destroyed.  You think you experience cancel culture now?  It’s not as though it’s some new thing.  Then, too, Rome would soon enough find cause to be uncharacteristically intolerant of this particular religion.  Isn’t that something?  Any other religion was fine.  Do your thing.  Just give due place to Caesar and don’t cause trouble.  But comes Christianity, the true faith in the true God, and suddenly all that tolerance is gone.  Again, we see the parallel.  How can we not?  Islam is acceptable to all, no matter that it is so bent on violent suppression of even those who give it such welcome.  Even Satanism gets its place, and we are told that it must be tolerated and accepted as an equal voice in the marketplace of ideas.  But let the Christian speak of his faith?  Oh, no.  Can’t have that.  Separation of church and state, don’t you know.  You just keep that to yourself.

The odds for God’s kingdom never look good.  They never have.  A tiny contingent of wandering nomads, taken into slavery in Egypt, hardly look like the foundation for a kingdom.  A son gone off chasing some vision he has seen, departing the mightiest nation of the time, hardly seems the sort to establish a people more numerous than the sands on the shore, and the older he got, remaining childless, the less likely it seemed, even to himself.  And yet…  A carpenter’s son, his parentage called into question and the one claiming to be his father gone, comes out of the most disregarded backwaters of Israel, and this one is going to be King of kings?  Unthinkable.  And now He’s been crucified, and still you would call Him King?  Delusional.  They say He’s been seen, talked to, after what all, including those making such claims, attest was a most certain and confirmed death.  Insanity.  And on this, these few rejects from Jewish society are going out and trying to establish a new religion.  Pointless.  And yet, now more than two thousand years on, here we are.  And the Truth continues, and the Call still comes.  And those whom the Father has chosen, still hear and answer.

As to this calling, we make a mistake if we suppose it refers only to that initial moment when we find ourselves realizing the truth of God’s existence and of His forgiveness and love being there for us to receive.  No!  The call is stative.  It’s not a one-time event, it’s a constant in the life of the believer.  He is ever calling.  This is contained in the tense of the verb as Paul brings us to this culminative point in his argument.  It is not God who called you, it is God who calls.  It’s constant.  Every day when you wake up, He is calling.  Every night, as you wind up your day and return to sleep, He is calling.  That expression of love is ever there.  That choosing of you as friend is ever there.  The fullness of every blessing of Christ is ever there.  I again come to mind of that glorious news from 2Peter 1:3.  He has already given you everything needful for life and godliness.  He is always giving you everything needful for life and godliness.  There is never a moment when you are lacking what is needful.  Never.  There may be moments when you in your weakness fail to lay hold of that which has been supplied, but it is always there for you.  Father is always there for you.

Look.  If indeed you are a believer, then you know the truth of this.  When God calls, there’s really no question left as to the authenticity of His calling.  Certainly not in that first moment, when the call comes through for the first time.  He called.  I know for my part that there was absolutely no way for this to have been faked.  It wasn’t an emotional response, certainly, for He wasn’t anything I was particularly looking for.  I had less interest in God than in the meal I was eating, honestly.  Nor was it something that arose in response to some particularly poignant or well-argued presentation of the gospel.  No.  This was direct-injection, foreign thought in the mind, “Believe Me” stuff.  And He didn’t just say, “Hi, it’s Me,” and leave me again.  No, the days ahead were filled with evidence of His being.  I was given every cause to believe, and believe I did.  Have there been times since when I wondered whether maybe I had misunderstood?  Oh, there are moments.  There are seasons, certainly, when I find my spiritual condition reason for deep concern.  But then there is always this to come back to.  He called me!  He adopted me.  Of this, there is no room for doubt, and that being the case, and that being stative, I must conclude that even in these periods of arid faith, it remains the true case that I am called and adopted.  Not I was.  I am.

The Wycliffe commentary gets at something of the force of this present tense aspect of the call.  They write, “God’s call confronts men continually.”  This is not just stirring up the evangelist.  They are not, I don’t think, talking about continuance of biblical ministry.  That’s not what’s up here.  No, it’s the individual experience of the believer.  God is ever calling.  His call confronts us every moment of the day.  It’s a comfort, to be sure, especially in those times when we are most feeling our failure.  But it confronts as well as comforts.  And that, really, pulls us into the purpose of Paul’s bringing it up:  You are called by God, adopted by the Father.  Walk worthy.  Walk as sons.

This call is the steady-state condition of the believer.  It must also be the steady-state response of the believer to seek as best we may to be such sons as honor the Father by their character.  It was this which rendered Paul and his coworkers so effective.  However tried, however pressed and abused by the opposition, yet they walked worthy of God Who called them, called them constantly.  Yet they walked in faith.  Yet they remained steadfast in pursuing such a course of life as would bring honor to His name, and give no valid grounds for blaspheming Him.  Unbelievers might do so anyway.  Indeed, they almost certainly will.  But not on any grounds supplied by His children who walk worthy of their family status.

Oh, how I would that I could claim this has been my own constant testimony!  How I wish that I could make boast, as Paul does, that I was ever devout in pursuing those things God has purposed for me, in uprightness towards not only believers but towards all.  But I know better.  I fail often to be the son I should be.  I must appeal often to that forgiveness and strength to repent which is mine in Him.  But I know this:  He calls.  I am adopted.  And I desire to honor my Father in what I do.  And He knows this, too.  He also knows, as He attested in regard even to His Apostles, that while the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak.  And so, forgiveness comes, so soon as I am made mindful to repent, to set myself once more to walk godly, worthy of my Father Who is making me daily to be more and more a son in His image.

Father, thank You for Your incredible patience!  Thank You for this stunning, most humbling gift of adoption into Your family.  Thank You for not making it merely a possibility, but an established reality.  I am Yours.  How poorly I show it, and how readily I fall back into old habits, and I can but beg Your forgiveness, and seek strength to do better, even today.  And I know, Lord, that as I have confessed this is so, even so I have Your forgiveness, for You remain faithful even when I do not.  But I would be such as gives no cause for blasphemy towards Your good and holy name.  I would be such as honors You by all I say and do, whether in Your house or mine, whether at home or in public, whether alone or in company.  And I know I have a long way to go before I can hope to be of a sort who can say to whomever I may encounter, follow my example as I follow Christ.  But it’s where I would have myself, and where You shall have me by Your own power and Your own work in me.  Thank You, for the assurance that comes of knowing Your call, not just in that one moment so many years ago, but day by day, even as this morning.  Let me not lose sight of it, nor forget the sounding of it in my ear.

The Christian Response (11/05/22)

We are not yet at the instructional portion of this letter, and yet, such is the nature of our author that instruction cannot help but appear.  Here, it comes in the form of him explaining the purpose behind all that he said and did among them.  All that exhortation and encouragement came as backing that which he implored them most passionately to do:  Walk worthy.  He cared for them like a father, but also as the representative of Him Who had become their father.  He called.  He adopted.  He has made you His sons.  What is left to earn?  There’s nothing.  You have already been named a coheir to the kingdom.  So why these strong encouragements to do?  Because as His sons, we are, like it or not, intentionally or not, a testimony to His character.

So, Paul encourages us, begs us, really, to testify truly.  If He is truly in you, how could you not?  If Holiness dwells within, personally, in the very real being of the Holy Spirit Who resides in the temple of your being, how can it be otherwise than that holiness expresses in your own character and deed?  Does not the temple always serve to reflect the one worshiped there?  Does it not seek to bring glory to that one?  Well, here the temple is a living body, and more than that, the living soul that occupies said body.  And if said soul would glorify and draw eyes to the God of all Creation, our Father Who art in heaven, then here is the way:   Walk worthy of this God who has claimed you.  As Mr. Henry advises, temper your minds and lives to be ‘answerable to this call and suitable to this privilege’.  Live like you believe.  Act like you hope.  Behave in a fashion that accords with this high and holy calling.  The calling is already yours.  The hope and expectation are established not in your compliance but in God’s grace.  You can’t earn what you already possess.  You can’t repay that which was given freely.  But you can demonstrate your gratitude by reflecting the goodness of God Who so gave.

Clarke, not surprisingly, has something of a more merit-driven perspective, but it’s not wrong necessarily, only inclined to push us into wrong motive.  He suggests that all of this effort on Paul’s part was to the end that they would act in accordance with their calling.  So far so good.  He suggests this to mean being no cause of reproach to God, which is certainly something we ought greatly to desire in respect to our own living testimony to Him.  But then, we move to this:  That we give Him every reason to acknowledge us as His own.  And now I have cause for some small concern, that we are pushed yet again towards earning what is already ours, and that will never do.

I may perhaps be overly sensitive to such things, but only because motive is so important to this whole thing. Concern that we might somehow not obtain what He has already given, or that we might somehow fail to be that which He has declared us to be can only push us back towards a works-based salvation which, should we pursue such a thing, is doomed to failure.  Beloved, we are not doomed to failure.  We are assured of success.  We are assured because it is God Who calls, God Who draws us into His own kingdom and glory, God Who works in us both to will and to work.  And God, dear ones, does not fail.  You and I fail, and do so regularly.  But He’s already taken us into account.  He knew that, and He still does.  And He does this anyway.  HE does.  We receive the benefit.

That does not, however, leave us to a passive faith that settles into letting go and letting God.  That is the path of sloth, and God has made plain enough that sloth is not a character trait of His, nor one He appreciates in His children.  So, what are we to do, then:  I’ll take Calvin’s answer.  “It now remains that we answer God’s call, that is, that we show ourselves to be such children to him as he is a Father to us.”  He calls and we answer.  He declares us His children, and we undertake to live in such a way as makes it clear to all that He is indeed our Father.  He is shaping your lives.  That is a declaration of fact.  We remain fallen creatures in too many regards, too readily led by the flesh.  That is also a declaration of fact.  But, with the tutelage of the Spirit indwelling, and with the ongoing work of God renewing our mind, our soul, our spirit – whether you opt to consider those synonymous or separate regions of your being – we seek to be like Him, to think like Him.  We seek to follow our oldest Brother’s example, and do that which we see God doing, say what we hear God saying, think what we recognize God is thinking.  We seek to testify to His very real being by living out the very real change He has wrought in us.

We want to honor God, Who has so richly honored us, honored us beyond all reason, far beyond all reasonable expectation.  How to do so?  Well, here it is:  Our application.  Walk worthy.  Barnes offers it this way:  A true Christian desires to honor God, and seeks to do so.  He does so by living so as to bring no reproach upon either God or Church.  You can see that he and Clarke are in agreement as to this aspect of the matter, and so should we be, for it is, after all, the purpose given to this delivery of the gospel message into our hearing.  It is the purpose of His calling us.  But where Clarke pushes this as giving Him reason to acknowledge us as His own, Barnes takes it in an entirely different direction, observing that as we seek to live, so we teach others to likewise honor Him.

Does this not come back round to something I have been observing about Paul’s testimony here, that his living out of faith in exactly such manner as he is urging here served to open doors for his preaching?  I’ve said it repeatedly:  If actions do not accord with word, word will find no reception.  If we seek to preach by cold-call tactics, we can expect a cold-call response, which is to say a 99% or better rate of rejection.  But where actions have already proclaimed the gospel by effect, then there is a natural interest stirred.  Then those who observe are given cause to ask after this hope that is in us.  Then, the door swings wide to welcome this gospel.  Oh, there will still be many who reject the answer, even having asked the question, but there are grounds now to speak into the life of this one who now knows us, knows our example and wonders at it.

Do we go so far as to take St. Francis’ advice and preach in words only when absolutely necessary?  Well, that probably is overstating the case, and probably doing so intentionally.  I sincerely doubt that he was shy to preach wherever opportunity arose.  But he’s making a point.  Live it!  Don’t just talk it.  To many are satisfied to talk a good game and then return to life as usual just so soon as talk is done.  We know it too much in our own case.  We don’t need to wrack our minds for example.  We are the example.  How far have you driven on your return from church before some meaningless seeming offense pushes you from godly response into a response of the flesh.  How long, if your kids are still in your household, before some misbehavior on their part stretches you past your point of gentle tolerance?  How long before you are too busy being offended to be godly?  I am guessing it doesn’t take long, because it usually doesn’t.

Perhaps we can lay some blame to the pace of modern life, but I suspect that’s no more than a cheap excuse.  No, the blame is wholly upon us, upon our sinful nature still having too great a hold upon us.  We can manage the godly behavior when somebody’s looking, when we’re with our fellow believers, say.  We can manage it, at least generally, in the family setting.  After all, there are expectations.  But off to the workplace?  Out on the open road?  Not so much.  We have to work at it to retain any sense of godliness, any measure of representing.  Or do I overstate the challenge of it?  Perhaps I am just weaker than most, less advanced in sanctification.

I don’t think so.  Nor do I think I am such an abject failure that I never bear witness to the Spirit within by my manner without.  I have known the shift of character as much as I have recognized the sad continuance of old character.  Yes, the tongue too readily slips into lifelong habits.  But perhaps I can lay claim to Paul’s appeal, that it is no longer I, but sin in me, that drives those slips.  I have seen, as well, those occasions where I have surprised myself, really, by responding not in the manner of the flesh, but in the newness of life in Christ.  I can hardly lay claim to doing so consistently.  I can’t even say as I do so with purposeful intentionality.  And honestly, I think that’s how we’re supposed to be.  We are growing in Christ, maturing in His image.  These things really shouldn’t take purposeful intentionality, and great exertions of will.  They should be coming naturally.  We shouldn’t need to agonize over what is the right thing to do in every given situation.  For the most part, we should be reaching the point where we know inherently which course is right, and just as inherently, choose that course.

There is a place, most assuredly, for the prayerful seeking of God’s guidance, and particularly where the choice is not between good and evil, but rather between two seemingly equal goods.  But to be paralyzed to inaction barring some revelation from heaven?  No.  I don’t see it.  We were wiser in our younger, more childlike faith.  We chose a course and proceeded, but proceeded with open invitation to God to change our course if need be.  Is this not pretty much how we find Paul and company operating?  Go back to Troas.  He had every intention of turning right, into the depths of Asia Minor.  This was, after all, territory he understood, people he understood, having grown up among them.  Surely, this was the field for which God has prepared him by experience?  And he set his course with every intention of pursuing it.  But God.  God altered the course in rather obvious fashion, and so, Paul changed course; the obedient son.

That’s hardly the only occasion.  We see it as well when he explains himself to his friends in Corinth, to whom he had promised a visit that had not come about.  It wasn’t fickleness on his part, and it wasn’t that his promises were untrustworthy.  He had purposed to come, but God had other plans.  And beloved, if God has other plans, we His children do well to pursue His plans and abandon our own.  We cannot expect benevolence and blessing when we insist on being in the driver’s seat.

Neither can we expect benevolence and blessing when we take to napping in the back seat and leaving the driving to others.  We have received God’s word, and having received it, response is in order.  That response cannot be mere nods of approval.  It will not do to say, “Yes, Lord,” to the instruction, and then simply go off and do as we please.  “A man had two sons.  He came to the first, and said, ‘Go work today in the vineyard.’  The son answered, ‘I will,’ but he did not in fact do so.  The man came to his second son with the same instruction, and that son said, ‘No,’ but came to regret it, and went to work after all.  Which did the will of his father?” (Mt 21:28-31).  Notice the question.  It’s not which paid lip-service to his father, but which actually did the will of his father.  To return to Barnes, thus does a true Christian honor God, actually living so as to bring no reproach.  He doesn’t just talk a good game, and go on living the life of an atheist or an idolator.  Neither are we being advised to say no to God, assuredly.  But to say yes, and then refuse by your actions?  This can never be advisable.  Let your yes be yes, and your no be no.  Let your actions be outward demonstration of the truth of your words, and your words be truthful expression of the faith within you.

Look, you don’t need to perform miracles to gain a hearing for the gospel, and certainly don’t need to do so to prove that God is in you.  Indeed, whatever motive you may claim for any such insistence upon miraculous powers, even if you’ve convinced yourself that your motives are surely pure, this is little more than seeking as Satan sought, to usurp God’s place upon the throne.  Beloved, return to Peter with me once more.  His divine power has already granted us everything pertaining to life and godliness, through the true knowledge of Him who called us [and I’ll just bring Paul back in to say, and calls us still] by His own glory and excellence (2Pe 1:3).  But He hasn’t been so stupid a deity as to leave you in control.  What do you take Him for?  No, that power remains His, not yours.  He grants.  He does not answer demands.  Why should He?  HE is God.  You are most assuredly not.  But if you would have a miracle to display your rightful claim to God indwelling, consider this:  You are the miracle!  You need no further proof.  The change of perspective, the change of character in you is sufficient.  It is, in fact, the undeniable testimony that God is at work here.  It is the clear testimony from on high that, “This one is Mine.”

What then?  Seek that your manner of life, your character and deed, might give no cause for reproach to God or Church.  Teach, as opportunity is given, those you have cause to teach to likewise honor Him by their own manner of life.  Live so that you can join Paul in saying, “Follow me as I follow Christ.”  Live, as I suggested in my first-pass notes, a life of invitation.  What does this mean?  Don’t hide your faith away to be enjoyed in private but never shown to the world around you.  You are not Gollum.  You don’t need to keep your precious faith hidden lest somebody steal it.  Far be it from you!  Faith is given to be shared.  Grace is given so as to demonstrate God’s goodness, so as to impart to you such tools and talents as will allow you to be an instrument in the hands of this great and glorious God for the purpose of building up your brothers, and for the purpose of bearing His light into the darkness, that those of your brothers who have not yet learned of their adoption may do so.

Live a life of invitation, for this is your high calling.  Don’t agonize over it.  Become it.  God is building character in you.  He is fashioning you to be, like David, a man after His own heart.  He has made you His own son or daughter, as the case may be.  I could draw up a bit shorter on that.  He has made you.  You don’t need to make yourself, nor could you if you tried.  But He has, and so you can.  You can live as a shining testimony of His glorious being.  You can walk in living testimony to the good work He is doing in you.  And that, dear ones, will speak volumes.  That will give greatest cause for those you encounter to become hungry for this same great good news of the Gospel.  And you will find, should occasion come, that He has given you that which you should speak, if only you will keep your fleshly insecurity out of the way for a moment.  No, even that is beyond you.  If it is time for you to speak, you shall.  For it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure (Php 2:13).  So, stop sweating it, and trust the Lord you serve.  Walk worthy.