The Challenges (08/15/22-08/17/22)
We have before us a set of commands. If we seek to distinguish law
and gospel, then what is before us is law. But it’s the new law of
love. It doesn’t look much like love to us, I don’t think, but this
really does give us good illustration of just what that peculiarly
Christian love of agape should look like
in practice. It’s an interesting picture, and challenging. But
before we can really deal with the challenge of God’s instruction to
us through Paul, we have first to deal with the challenge of properly
understanding what we’re dealing with. I find, for example, that the
second of these commands, “admonish the unruly,”
as the NASB has it, is variously understood. That matter of
unruliness is presented in a term used only here, with the appearance
in 2Thessalonians of another singular word which is
closely related, and to much the same point.
What is that point? That’s where questions start to arise. There are
effectively two threads of meaning that I find running through the
translations. One thread stays fairly close to what we see in the
NASB. “Rebuke the unquiet,” says the
Douay-Rheims. “Keep control over those whose
lives are not well ordered,” reads the BBE. But then there’s
this other aspect that comes out. The ERV gives us, “Warn
those who will not work.” And the Message, with its much
more freestyle approach to presenting the text supplies, “Warn
the freeloaders to get a move on.” Now, encountering those
last few translations, and others that follow the same line of
understanding, my first reaction is to think somebody’s reading that
second letter back into the first. And that gives rise to questions
of whether such an approach has led to misinterpreting the meaning
here. There is, however, the equal and opposite possibility, in this
case, that given these two letters are written by the same man to the
same church at nearly the same time, this is precisely the right thing
to be doing. In other words, what is observed as a seedling issue
here has flowered and borne fruit by the time of that second letter.
And if we are correct that little time passed between those two
letters, we have a sense of just how swiftly sin’s corrupting
influence can spread and fester, even in the church.
Seeing this divergence of interpretation led me to consider more
sources than usual in seeking to understand the words before us, and
that has proven, I think, beneficial; particularly so with this first
matter of unruliness or idleness. The basic meaning is that of
disorderliness. It seems to have been something of a military term,
indicating those who were out of position, out of their ranks and
insubordinate. They had their orders, and ignored them. If we let in
this idea of laziness, as Kittel’s observes, we mustn’t allow it to
occlude the larger problem. Yes, idleness is one symptom, but there
are others. The more fundamental issue is irresponsibility, of not
fulfilling one’s duties. That idleness, or evading of obligations, is
but a part of it. The author there puts this down to the ‘irrational
soul of man’, being, as it is, misled by passion and error,
and this without order or plan.
Now, this may not be the best time to note it, but last Sunday might
well stand as an example of the issue. We undertook to get away from
the house for the afternoon, feeling somewhat the pressure of
disrupting rote habit just a bit. But we went without plan, driven,
if you will, by this passionate need to get out, to do
something; something different. So, off we went.
We had a destination in view, and the idea that we would just as soon
not hop on the major highways to get there, but take a more leisurely
course. Well, we certainly avoided the highways, and I suppose, at
some juncture, it managed to be leisurely. But mostly, we wandered
quite off course, banking more west to east than our northbound plan
had envisioned, and before you know it, we had managed to turn a
simple one hour journey into a four hour trek. Now, this wasn’t, in
our case, some terrible error or grounds for recriminations. But it
was, I would have to confess, rather more indirect than intended.
My point is simply this: This is somewhat the idea Paul has in view
here, as concerns these individuals in need of correction. It’s not
just that they were idle. We have that image from the second letter,
of those whose sense of the imminence of the last day had led them to
just set aside the obligations of daily living. This was beyond the
monastic withdrawal from society. In fact, it could be argued such a
withdrawal would have been a vast improvement on their part. No, they
were not merely shirking their own responsibilities, but they were
getting into everybody else’s business, stirring up trouble. “We
hear,” writes Paul, “that some among you
are leading an undisciplined life,” – there’s our companion
word – “doing no work at all, but acting like
busybodies” (2Th 3:11).
You can see Kittel’s point. The slothful negligence toward work is
there, but there’s more, and that more is insidious. They’re getting
into everybody’s business, stirring up strife. This is exactly what
you don’t need. This is the opposite of love, and
certainly the antithesis of peace. Vine’s offers the thought that
this disorderliness can be put down to a number of things. It could
be idleness. It could also be excitability, which can be
such a distraction to those who are quietly pursuing their labors. It
could be a sort of officiousness, viewing those labors and offering
unhelpful criticism as to its doing, or even whether it should be done
at all. One gets the sense, again considering that later letter, that
all of these come into play, and we don’t really need to choose. You
can see the busybody in that officiousness. You can see the
insubordinate’s influence in excitedly encouraging others to join in
the fun of going your own way. And you can certainly see the idleness
that supplied these individuals with the time to pursue such things.
The saddest part, perhaps, is that this comes of hearing sound
teaching. Table Talk,
this morning, had cause to remind of Paul’s treatment of the law of
Moses, and how sin was able to take that good law and make of it a
launching pad for further sin. Well, rest assured, the Gospel is not
immune to similar abuse. Here had been news of Christ’s return, and
that ultimate realization of salvation which would come with His
return. Hey! This life is going to be left behind. All the woes and
dissatisfactions, all the sorrows and labors and trials that
constitute life in this fallen world will come to an end, and we go to
heaven to enjoy the immediate presence of our Lord forevermore. Now,
the lazy would hear that and think of ages spent on the couch,
enjoying fine foods and entertainments, and never needing to lift a
finger again. Others, it seems, began to wonder. If He’s coming,
where is He? Have we missed it? Did we not make the cut? And they
stirred up questions and doubts in others because, of course, they had
no answers. The problem was there, and it was growing.
The problem remains, in varying form, in the house of God today. We
have that longstanding truism that 20% of the body does 80% of the
work. If you can get to 20% volunteerism in your congregation, you
are doing well, and if you’re expecting more, well, good luck with
that. And there’s a reason we have that truism: Because it generally
holds true. Many a congregant comes, sits in the pew of a Sunday,
perhaps spends a few moments chatting over coffee afterwards, and goes
home. Some can’t even manage that much, if there’s something better
going on, a game perhaps, or some other adventure on offer. Some are
too busy looking around and taking measure of their fellow congregants
to ever get a good look at themselves. Others, perhaps, give their
tithes and energy, but remain spiritually detached. The problem
remains, and as I said, the form varies. But the antidote really
doesn’t.
Okay, I’ve spent a lot of time on this first issue, because it’s the
harder one to resolve in translation. But we have other issues to
address. We have the fainthearted. What’s up with that? Some would
see a character flaw. Some would take fainthearted as
chicken-hearted, as we used to say. Just not up to it, are you?
Don’t have it in you? That mindset seems far more prevalent in times
of conflict, when courage is most needful and strength to follow
through. Well, brother, I’ve got news for you. Your time here is a
time of conflict. It’s not conflict with your brothers in Christ,
certainly. Neither is it conflict with those unbelievers around you,
even if they are of the more antagonistic sort. These folks in
Thessalonica knew from antagonistic. The early church in general was
entirely too familiar with the issue. It didn’t stop them believing.
They proved to have that strength of character to stand and stand some
more, at least for the most part.
We know, from the early fathers, that there came a time when the
persecutions arising out of Rome’s leadership proved too severe for
some to handle, and they bolted. When things had changed course, and
faith could be held without fear of being put to death for it, they
came back. And those who had stood firm were at a quandary as to
whether they should be welcomed or not. These were the
chicken-hearted! They had run when things got hard. Who could trust
them, really? If they had denied Christ, surely this was
unforgivable, and the church would be wronging its Lord to let them
back into fellowship. Are we not the gatekeepers? Will we really
just let this weakness pollute the house? And the answer that came,
after prayerful consideration by godly men, was yes. Here are the
prodigals come home, and would you be that brother whose resentment
sought to prevent restoration in the family? Far be it from you! No,
the proper course is not to reject them and drive them away. It is to
encourage them, seek to bolster their strength and courage. The
battle is hard enough without reducing forces in the midst of it,
because you find this soldier insufficiently prepared to stand his
post. Encourage him. Speak to his backbone, that he might indeed
become a welcome brother-in-arms.
Then, too, we have the weak. Again, what’s in view here? This isn’t
fearfulness. It’s true insufficiency to meet the need of the moment.
It might be physical weakness. It might be material lack. I want to
help, but I haven’t the means, the talents needed for this effort.
But, given our setting and concerns, we must recognize, I think, that
at root, the weakness is a spiritual weakness. That leads me to the
idea that what we’re talking about is those whose faith is perhaps
new, little developed. They have not the depths of experience or
understanding that we have. They have not as yet wrestled with some
of those deeper truths, or experienced those trials which leave us
with a tested faith, and a stronger assurance as to the faithfulness
of our God. But that battle we are in won’t wait for them to mature.
It’s here now. They’re here now. They’re in it together with us, and
if they – and we – are to survive the engagement, they will need our
help. Helping them now may just set them on course to be help to us
later.
I see that I have slipped into a militarily informed perspective on
the whole business. That may not entirely suit, but I think it does
well enough. These brothers in Thessalonica had faced serious
opposition. We don’t know but that it had turned deadly in some
instances. It was bad enough when Paul was up there, bad enough that
they found it necessary for him to depart not just the city, but the
region, for his own safety, and the Church’s good. We see,
repeatedly, the willingness of the Jewish community that rejected
Messiah to stir up all sorts of trouble, even purchasing mobs to turn
out and do their dirty work. Anything to squash this new sect.
Anything to divert the need to face the corrective, life-changing
message of the Gospel. This was a battle they were in, even if it was
one they joined in with such joy and goodwill as had become news even
down here in Corinth.
There is something about weakness, though, that we ought to consider.
It’s a point Kittel’s brings out, and it bears remembering. There is
something of a paradox to this Christian life, in that God displays
His power within our weakness. “When we are weak,
then He is strong.” Somehow, that’s the way it comes to
memory. But the actual declaration is, “When I am
weak, then I am strong” (2Co 12:10).
But it comes on the basis of what Paul was told by his Lord Jesus. “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected
in weakness” (2Co 12:9), and the
observation that it was due to his weaknesses that the power of Christ
dwelt so richly in him. Now, this is by no means suggesting that God
cannot oppose our strength. It has far more to do with that humility
that comes of recognizing that our strength is as nothing compared to
His. Our physical frame, after all, is subject to disease and
affliction, and the general effects of aging. God suffers no such
issues. Our power is largely limited to what bone and muscle can
supply, with perhaps the additive of what mind can conceive by way of
augmenting those capabilities. God’s power, however, is limitless.
My point is simply that we don’t want to misconstrue Paul’s intent
here, as suggesting something it does not.
And that gets us to the other aspect of weakness, that which is before
us here. Yes, there is a sort of weakness, which again, I would set
down to humility, which renders one a suitable instrument upon which,
or through which God can display His power. But there is another sort
of weakness that is not acceptable to God, and therefore not to be
accepted by us. That weakness is a moral condition, a moral weakness
that we must seek to overcome. This, too, will rely on the power of
God to achieve, but it requires as well our personal involvement,
apart from which God will not be found willing to empower the
necessary change. This is part of being a moral agent. You must make
your choice, and will yourself to follow that choice. But in cases
such of this, you choose and you will knowing that will alone won’t
get you there. Choice alone won’t get you there. You choose knowing
your dependence upon God to provide the means, and knowing that He
will. Thus, weakness is not celebrated in passages such as this, but
neither is it condemned as cause for exclusion from fellowship.
Rather, it is an opportunity for love to take action.
Let me touch once more on the matter of the faint-hearted, a term
which taken more literally speaks of smallness of soul. Here, then,
we are concerned more with soul than mind. But it is a matter of
despondency, a giving up of hope if you will. And let us make that
connection. This despondency is not the product of reason, or of the
mind having thought things through. In truth, if the mind thought
things through, then despondency must flee, for the things we consider
are matters of God’s doing, as we have seen. The power by which we
pursue the life of faith is not that of main strength, but of God
Himself. And He richly supplies His sons and daughters with all that
is needful for life and godliness (2Pe 1:3).
That is one of those passages that has really been sticking with me.
His divine power has granted us everything
pertaining to life and godliness, through the true and full knowledge
of Him who called us by His own glory and excellence. What a
marvelous thing! He has done it. You are already equipped. Not only
that, but as Paul reminds the Philippians, it is He Who is at work in
you both to will and to work (Php 2:13).
He equips. He works. Where, then, is cause for despondency? There
is no cause. It is a sickness of soul, a reaction, I think we could
say, to the lies of a deceitfully wicked heart, which leads us away
from that weakness which lets God’s power work in us, and has us
thinking we need to get there in our own strength – a hopeless task
indeed.
Paul does not identify these issues to condemn, or to purge those thus
afflicted from the Church, but rather that we might see the need among
us and be part of God’s answer, as active exponents of love. Before I
turn to that part, though, I would put before us an opportunity for
self-examination. We have seen three points of need, the
insubordinate, the despondent, and the morally weak. I wonder, do you
see yourself in that list of needs? On the right occasion, I fear I
could find myself in any one of the three, and sometimes in all of
them. It’s easy to slip into a place of insubordination, of being a
busybody, all over everybody else’s business, and neglectful of our
own. It’s certainly easy to become despondent, and honestly, I think
there is something in the impact of the last few years that has made
this far more common. When you’ve had fearfulness and anxiousness
broadcast at you daily for so long, it’s kind of bound to have its
effect. Some may recall those early years of the cold war, when as
school children we were being taught some rather laughable response to
nuclear attack. Honestly, about the most it was going to do was make
the devastation a bit neater, should there be any alive to clean up
afterwards. It certainly wasn’t going to preserve one intact. But it
was pretty good at instilling a sense of dread, or futility in the
souls of those being so trained. I mean, really, what’s the point in
obtaining education if the bomb’s going to fall any day now? And
that, I should observe, is not so very far from the thinking that was
afflicting the church as Paul writes to them. If the end is nigh, why
be bothered with this business of daily living? Why seek to improve
oneself? Why do anything? If nothing we can do will work to keep
this deadly Covid away, what are we to do, but hole up in our little
houses and cut off all outside contact? And what is that going to
produce besides despondency? We are not created to
be isolated creatures, nor even so isolated as we may be within the
confines of our homes. We are social beings, designed for community.
Cut off community, and despondency results. Honestly, it’s just about
that simple.
But where do you find yourself? Are you becoming insubordinate? Are
you setting yourself above those leaders God has seen fit to provide?
Do you play the game of seeking the errors in every sermon, or have
you decided you have a better grip on sound doctrine and
administration than those charged with maintaining the same? Watch
out! It’s one thing to test and approve that which is good. It’s
quite another to assign yourself the office of official church critic.
Has despondency overcome you? Do you feel like the whole thing has
sort of lost a point? Does it feel too much like you’re just going
through the motions, performing rote duties but not really getting
anywhere? I’ve known that feeling of late, both in the pursuits of
faith and in the realm of employment. As I note, some of that comes
from the isolated nature of recent years. But then, too, we must
recognize that some of that isolation comes by choice rather than by
necessity. I am, admittedly, more introverted as I grow older, and
much of what I enjoy consists in things enjoyed primarily alone. Some
of my greater pleasures require rather large swathes of time in which
I can pursue them uninterrupted and undistracted. That, of course,
requires me to cease from interrupting and distracting myself, but the
demands of life tend to limit those opportunities, and leave me more
demanding of such time as I can find. But that feeds the isolation,
and isolation feeds the despondency. This is something to consider.
I have faced it in the last several weeks as it applies in the
workplace. It’s been a challenging project, this latest assignment,
and I have often felt that my progress and contributions are
insufficient. The learning curve has been something of a steep and
constant incline, and it feels like I’m never getting anywhere. Add
to this the impersonal nature of communications when working at
distance. Most communication now comes in the form of text messaging,
which, even more so than email, has the effect of leaving one seeking
to discern attitude without the benefit of visual clues. Are they as
frustrated with me as I am? Have I proved a disappointment? There’s
just not much to go on when you start facing such questions, and it’s
not really the sort of thing you can ask outright. So you’re seeking
what feedback you can find, but that feedback is often a thing
imagined rather than an accurate reading, and so, we find negative
responses where no such thing is suggested. We read frustration where
there is only the offering of information. We are a circuit that has
come disconnected from some critical control inputs, and oscillate
wildly.
The same thing can hit us in spiritual matters. If we are cutting
ourselves off from the fellowship that pertains within the church, we
will likely perceive that as being the result of an unfriendly church,
or perhaps a signal that it’s time to go. But honestly, it is far
more likely that you have cut yourself out, rejected whatever attempts
at fellowship there have been, or simply been stand-offish. Let me
put it another way. You have made yourself unwelcoming, and then
wondered why nobody seeks to welcome you. Hmm. Well, moving on
certainly won’t help that issue, because you’ll still be there,
wherever you may choose to go. Perhaps, then, the problem is not
them, but you. Perhaps it would be better to seek those who could
help you in your place of need rather than expect them to guess, or
expect the Holy Spirit to magically guide them to you. Oh, I know.
I’ve done it too. And it’s possible He will in fact send along
somebody to speak, all unknowing, directly into that need. But it’s
also possible He’s waiting for you to get over yourself and seek out
help yourself.
Are you weak? Are you lacking in the equipage of knowing God, knowing
what He says of Himself in Scripture, and how that applies to your
daily life? This, I should hope, is the least likely self-diagnosis,
although maybe we ought to consider it more carefully. If your answer
is a no, but comes of wounded pride, then perhaps the answer is
actually yes. If your answer is no, but it arises from a burgeoning
self-reliance without proper basis, again, the answer is actually
yes. We’re not talking mere head-knowledge here. We’re not
considering a capacity to go on at length concerning the fine points
of this passage or that, and we’re not talking familiarity with the
doctrines propounded by this or that teacher of note, as if we were in
the business of choosing sides with one rabbi or another. You know,
we saw such things among the Pharisees in Jesus’ day. There were
those of Hillel, and those of Gamaliel, and the two sides really
didn’t see much eye to eye. There were the doctrinal divisions
between the typical Sadducee and the Pharisee, and we could add in the
Essenes as well. But all those doctrinal disputes spoke nothing to
the question of true, spiritual knowledge. It may have been that some
individuals in any of those groups did indeed have such knowledge.
But it wasn’t because of being in any of those groups. Having all
your doctrinal points in proper Pharisaical order would not render one
spiritually pure. Carefully pursuing the tenets of the Essenes would
do you no better. Indeed, as proved to be the case, these approaches
might very well leave you farther from spiritual truth than when you
started.
Studying alone is not going to bring you to the place of strength in
Christ. Knowing intricate details, or seeing all these connections
between ideas is not, in itself, going to do anything for you. You
could do the same with the works of any given philosopher. You could
go exercise yourself on Plato, or on Kant, or on Jung. You might even
derive some small benefit from it. Some have. But you won’t grow
spiritually strong on that diet. You need the nourishment of the word
of God, and you need the digestive juices, if you will allow the idea,
of the Holy Spirit, so as to allow the nutrients in that word to be
rendered usable to the soul and spirit. You need wisdom, not merely
knowing the facts, and not even merely knowing how they ought
to apply to your day to day, but actually applying
them. And that, again, depends on God. It also, by His design,
depends on being in the company of your brethren, who may in fact see
you with clearer eyes than you suppose, with clearer eyes than you see
yourself.
It is a community of faith for a reason, and again I ask. Where do
you find yourself? Have you practically excommunicated yourself?
Well, perhaps it’s time you welcomed yourself back in. Have you felt
isolated? Perhaps you might make some attempts to connect, rather
than just standing about looking lost and directionless. Have you
felt powerless, stuck in idle? Perhaps you might try applying that
which you have been learning, seeking to incorporate His instruction
into your character, through prayer and through practice. Who knows?
Maybe things can improve.
The Commands (08/18/22-08/19/22)
So, Paul lays out the challenges, the issues in the body. And he
also lays out commanded actions to address those challenges. It
begins with what we might see as a transitional command, connecting
this part of his instruction to the previous point about leadership.
Live in peace with one another. Okay, but what does that look like in
practice? If he had left it there, we would incline to suppose the
right thing to do is to simply put up with each other’s weaknesses and
failings. We would seek to tolerate one another. But that is not the
call.
He expands. See the need in your brother and be the needed answer.
That, I think, would sum it up nicely. Keep control over the unruly.
We’ve looked at this, and the varied ways the concept is put forward,
so far as the problem is concerned. There is also some variety as to
how the corrective action is defined. Keep control, warn them,
admonish them. If they are becoming freeloaders, shirking their
labors and shirking their spiritual health, don’t let it ride. We see
this made more explicit in the second letter. “If
anyone will not work, neither let him eat” (2Th
3:10), and this, he says, was instruction they had from him
when he was first there with them. There is direct command to such
individuals on that later occasion. “Work
quietly, and eat your own bread” (2Th
3:12).
This does seem to clarify what was happening, and why it was becoming
an issue. It would seem the Thessalonians had modeled their faith
much like the early church in Jerusalem, where we saw in Acts that
they would pool their resources to see to the needs of all the body of
believers. They gave as they had to give, and they were supplied as
they had need. Some have looked at this as evidence that Christians
should practice communism, but that simply won’t work. Sorry. This
was not a denial of personal property. It was a people moved by their
own freely made choice to support their brothers who were having
greater difficulties. It was not coerced loss of property, but
willing offer of that property to see God’s work done.
Of course, such free access to means led to abuses. As in our own
day, there were those who would take without really giving back. Here
was a free meal ticket, so why bother with working at all? They’ll
cover me. I just have to profess faith in this god of theirs. Was it
so brazenly false as all that? Paul does not say so directly, but one
has to wonder. Is it really possible that one would have such faith
as comes of God and yet be so ready to abuse the goodwill of his
brothers? I suppose it could have been simply an overly excited
response to the news of Christ’s imminent return, or perhaps a warped
sense of what it means to trust God for your provision. But it would
not surprise me to learn that even then, there were false confessors
of faith. I should think it almost a given that such issues were as
present then as now. And they were likely missed by many, then as
now, faith almost requiring of us that we view our fellow religionist
in the most positive possible light. There’s nothing wrong with that
per se, but it must be tempered by wisdom and discernment. And where
there is a problem, the problem must be addressed, not accepted as
inevitable. Correct them. Don’t put up with the insubordination. If
they will not accept the leadership, let them neither accept the
charity. Let them not be a poison seeping into the body. This is not
a step to take lightly, but it is not one to be avoided at all cost,
either.
We have, as well, an answer to the fainthearted, the despondent.
Don’t tell them how this is a terrible misrepresentation of God, or
how poor a testimony it is, that they should behave so. It’s all well
and good to note how a Christian ought to be a joyful fellow,
confident in the care of Christ, and keenly aware that nothing in this
world can separate him from his Lord and Savior. But when one is
down, ‘cheer up,’ is not particularly helpful to hear. And if it
comes not as encouragement, but as command, well, so much the worse.
Yes, yes, you feel miserable. You can’t see your way out of the hole
you feel yourself to be in. But buck up, lad! Stiff upper lip, and
all that. Put a smile on that face of yours and get on with life.
Honestly, such advice at such a time is as likely as not going to
deepen the darkness of soul rather than help. This is not
encouragement. This is annoyance.
That said, the answer is just as surely not to advise them that they
are right to feel as they do. No. They need encouragement. But they
need real, useful encouragement. If they are despondent, having lost
any sense of hope, perhaps the thing would be to gently turn their
attention back upon the rock-solid hope that is theirs in Christ.
Perhaps they have become despondent because they have been too much
concerned with their works earning them place in God’s favor. Then,
they need to be gently restored to understanding that God’s grace is
not a response to our works, but a necessary forerunner of any works
we might come to pursue. If those works are of value, after all, it
is as expression of what faith has already wrought; it is because the
works we do are those God prepared beforehand for our doing. They are
not jobs performed for wages, but offerings made in love for the God
in whose name they are done, and by whose power they are done, if
indeed they are done.
Perhaps it is simply the weight of daily life that has this person
down. Maybe they’ve lost a loved one recently. Assuredly, if that
loved one was a believer, then they are not truly lost, but only gone
on ahead. But there is a place for sorrow on that occasion, a place
for mourning, even so. God has not called us to be emotionless and
cold. He is not unaware of our human connectedness, nor does He call
us to set that aside. Yes, we need to be nurtured and encouraged to
recognize the great truth of the resurrection in those times, but in
due time. Comfort is called for, and encouragement. Yes, they are
gone, but you will see them again by and by. Death, dear one, is not
a permanent separation, as concerns believers. Eternity yet lies
ahead, and we shall enjoy it together.
It could be some job loss, as well, I suppose. Welfare systems were
not really in place in that day and age, and if one could not work,
well, one could not eat. This kind of comes at the reverse face of
that coin abused by the indolently insubordinate. There was a reason
for such charity in the family of God. Far more so then than at
present, at least in the West, to be a Christian could very well be
grounds for termination. And it wasn’t exactly the climate where
entrepreneurs could just go off and start a business. Nor were many
in the church of such status as would permit of such an outcome
anyway. A slave really couldn’t expect such opportunities, even if
his master had turned him out. Not that such an event seems likely.
Sold, perhaps, to cut losses, or killed. But unlikely that they would
simply be tossed on the street. The point is, though, that real
suffering was a very real possibility for real faith. And suffering
can readily lead to the sort of despondency that is in view here. It
is up to us to come alongside our brother should such things
transpire, to be both spiritual and material support to them in their
place of need, and encouraging them until they can in fact get back on
their feet.
Then, we have the weak, the small-souled. Their faith is of little
strength. I don’t honestly think we are talking about physical
infirmities here. Rather, the concern is with the life of faith.
These believe, but perhaps belief is not as yet well established, or
well-informed. They didn’t quite realize what they were signing up
for when they professed faith in this Jesus. You know how it goes.
So often the good news is put out there without any notice given to
the cost involved. We so want these lost souls to come to Christ that
we are a bit lax about noting what might be seen as downsides. It’s a
rare evangelist who will lead his appeal with Jesus’ observation that,
‘in this life you will have tribulations’.
It matters not that this observation was followed immediately by, ‘but be of good cheer, for I have overcome the world’.
That’s well and good when you are already in the camp of believers,
and have some understanding, but as sales pitches go, this is not
exactly a winner, is it? So, we stick with the message of “God
loves you,” and figure we can get to the price tag, the
whole-self giving unto Christ, at some later date.
But the world isn’t going to wait for us to get around to that. The
battle comes swiftly, and doesn’t much care if you’ve trained your new
recruits yet. So, that battle comes as something of a surprise to
them, and they may not yet know how to stand in the strength of God.
Half the time, I think we don’t know how to do so.
We try to do it, but discover that no, really, we’ve been trying to
stand in our own meager strength, and forgotten God entirely. Sorry,
Lord. So, it’s hardly a surprise that those newer to faith would be
struggling. Do we just let them fall by the wayside? Inform them,
perhaps, that their faith was too weak. So sorry. Of course, this is
not the answer! If God does not lose sheep, then we who are fellow
sheep ought not to leave them to get lost, either. Help them! Carry
them, if you must. Your Shepherd carried you, didn’t He? Here, I
really like the presentation Wuest supplies for us. “Be
a mainstay to those who are spiritually weak.” Have their
backs.
It comes back yet again to that sense of military action, doesn’t
it? The military has that idea of, ‘no man left
behind’. We don’t leave our brothers there to be picked up
or picked off by the enemy. We carry them, if we have to, but we will
see to it that they are secure with us, and not casualties. Should it
not be so in the camp of God? Here in this outpost of the kingdom,
with the forces of darkness at every side, we have need to stand by
one another, to be on guard one for another, and to see that each of
us is as fully equipped as possible to withstand, and not only to
withstand, but to carry the light forward into that darkness. We
can’t do that by staying focused on ourselves alone. We can’t do that
by succumbing to infighting. And so, we take these corrective
actions.
Now, I have observed that these are commands. They come in the
imperative voice. They are also in the active voice. You,
subject, perform these actions. Then, too, they are presented as
present tense operations. They are ongoing, we might even say
stative. Be doing these things constantly. These are activities that
should define life in the camp of Christ. If you see one slacking,
correct him. If you see one weakening strengthen him. If you see one
giving up, lend him courage. Be a mainstay!
Let me look at that last a bit more. The word has this sense of
adhering to the one you would care for. Hold yourself to that one who
is fading. Don’t let go! Don’t let them miss the fact that you are
there for them. Don’t leave them to wonder if anybody notices they
are falling behind, falling away. Don’t leave them to wonder if
anybody would even realize it were they to go. Bind yourself to
them. I don’t think that’s too strong a thing to suggest. Some folks
get a little leery of the idea of binding together. Oh, you could
wind up with spiritual bonds that are unhealthy for you. Well, yes, I
suppose if you go off binding yourself to whomever with no spiritual
sense applied, this could be the case. But then, that just puts you
in the place of need rather than the place of aid, doesn’t it? God is
not a fool, nor is He one to lose those He has chosen. Remember. And
then, when you see that one falling behind, go. Be their mainstay in
the power of Christ. Don’t hold back lest you become a substitute for
Christ. Be an instrument in the hands of Christ, and if you have won
back that brother to the security of sound faith, praise be to God,
that He has done the work through you.
The whole is summed up by Paul with the call to be patient with
everybody. Don’t get frustrated because they’re not at your stage of
development. For all that, don’t be so sure your stage of development
is actually greater than theirs. Be patient. And the particular term
here addresses that sort of patience needed in regard to
relationships. It’s not patience with circumstances, endurance under
pressures. No, it’s persevering, bearing the offense without turning
to anger and vengeance. It is exercising that same forbearance
towards those who need it as God did towards you. But it is patience
that is being called for, not tolerance. To exercise patience does
not mean we simply accept that these individuals have their failings.
We don’t tolerate the idler in his idleness. We don’t simply leave
the despondent to their misery. And we don’t leave the weak behind as
if their weakness threatened our own security. No. Action is
commanded.
Let me emphasize that. Action is commanded! These
are not optional behaviors. These aren’t offered as possibilities to
try out should occasion seem to call for it. Neither are they
instructions reserved to the overseers mentioned in the previous
sentence. This is everyone for all. We are family, and in many ways,
closer than family. Or we should be, at any rate. We are to love one
another. This is how the world knows we are His, that we love one
another, and not in some mushy, sentimentalist fashion. No. This is
love in action. That is exactly what is set before us here. If you
love your elders because of their work, it is because their work
expresses this love in action. If you love your elders because of
their work, recognize that their work is not theirs alone, but modeled
that you might do likewise. If it commanded of them, it is also
commanded of you.
This Sunday, we shall be coming to that portion of James which
some find so contrary to Paul’s emphasis on grace. It is not, but
that’s for another time. The connection here is that James speaks of
faith taking action. If you see your brother in need, and all you can
do is tell him to be at peace, but you do nothing to actually address
the need, how is this an expression of faith? It isn’t (Jas
2:15-16). Now, James is focused on issues of real faith, but
where there is real faith, there is real love, agape
love. And real love takes action. Real love doesn’t
tolerate, but it is patient, kind, not taking into account any wrongs
suffered, nor seeking its own benefit. Love is a thing exercised, and
it is exercised most where the need is greatest. Love is what lends
patience to our efforts. For we know from our own experience, and our
own reactions, that the exercise of love that seeks to supply the true
need often faces rejection by the one in need. That requires
patience. That requires deferring anger, and persevering in spite of
rejection.
I find as often as not that when a corrective word comes, the
immediate response is what we might call one of the flesh. We don’t
want to hear it. We don’t much like being corrected. But the word is
received anyway, and given space for the Spirit to speak to us,
realization comes, the rightness of that correction is recognized, and
if there has been a spiteful response at the outset, we know our need
to repent of it, to apologize to the one we have wronged with our
fleshly anger, and confess the welcome acceptance of their
correction. And then, we must as surely seek to truly repent and
change our ways. We have heard. Far be it from us to hear without
becoming doers.
So, there it is. Meet the need you see. Let love be active.
Address the issues that all might indeed grow into the fulness of the
mature image of our mutual Lord and King. Don’t let this stuff
fester. It won’t get better that way, and it just might prove fatal.
Would you suffer your hand to be destroyed through neglect? I rather
doubt it. Why, then, would you suffer your brother to be destroyed
through neglect. He is part of the same body of which you are a
part. Should you not, then, have great concern for his wellbeing, as
great a concern as you have for your own?
I had some concerns as to my own attempt at paraphrasing this
message, in that it strayed rather farther from the underlying
language than usual. Primarily, it consists of giving a bit more
flesh to the bare bones of these commands. Does it hold up okay? I
think so. There is question, of course, as to whether ‘live in peace
with each other’ belongs more to the preceding call to esteem your
elders or with the following commands as to our own role in the body.
In fairness, both aspects come as a single whole, and I may have done
the greater disservice to the passage by separating them. But, if I
take that as a connective tissue, as it were, recognizing these elders
as examples to follow in our own turn, then I think having it as an
underpinning for the commands that follow is acceptable. Here is what
it looks like to be at peace, and to pursue the work of God in love.
Why admonish the slacker? Because it will do no good to pretend
tolerance toward him. This is not a case of going out and finding
cause to disagree and be disagreeable. But neither is it accepting
that which is in fact in disagreement with sound faith. But neither
is it a cutting out. Rather, it is a seeking to restore real peace,
that real peace that comes of harmonious concord. Comfort the
discouraged, lest they become despondent. Yes, that works, and there
is something of an added note to the flavor with that explanatory
addition. Catch it before it gets to that point. Don’t wait for the
despair to set in and then try and address it. Get at it early. Much
easier. Then, too, help the weak. Don’t let them slip away. Don’t
leave them behind. Don’t be so caught up in your advanced faith that
you become negligent towards those who are newly come to it. Help
them, don’t belittle them. Help them, don’t preen in your comparison
of yourself to them. Yes, I think that all holds.
And let me return to a note of thanksgiving. You know, God has set
us in these congregations, these families. He has set us amongst
those who will render this service should we be in need of it. He has
set us, as well, to be of such service where we discover need. But
let me be just a little selfish here for a moment. God has seen to it
that there are those who can give answer to our need, who can
encourage us when we grow faint or weary of the challenges of life.
There are those who will bring that needful gentle rebuke when we have
allowed ourselves to wander from God’s path, whether through sloth or
through worse sorts of insubordination. Yes, God can do it directly,
and will do so if that’s what’s needed. God does not lose sheep. But
if He has so arrayed His children that they have this capacity within
their number to supply one another, ought we not to be accepting of
just such supply?
Give thanks to God that He does this. Indeed, should you find
yourself the one needing admonishment, rejoice rather than revile.
God does not lose sheep, and He’s not willing to lose you. He has set
this brother in your path to remind you of the Way. And should you,
then, respond in the anger of a wounded animal at his loving
admonishment? Of course not. But we do, don’t we? We do, before
good sense, and the Spirit’s reminders to our conscience get hold of
our worse nature. And praise God He does so. Praise God that He has
His people in position to be boon companions to His people, lest we
find ourselves alone and ill equipped for the challenges of this life
we live.
Now, it must be said that if we are to experience this good
providence of our gracious God we must be available. If we are
shutting ourselves away by ourselves, then these means of grace which
are our fellow believers cannot be of help. I mean, sure, God could
send prophetic word through dreams and visions such that they come
knocking down your door to bring you back in a spiritual intervention
of some sort. But that’s a bit too much drama, really, isn’t it?
It’s not the normal course of fellowship. If we have not been making
our weakness known, just how do we suppose those around us are
supposed to discover it and come help? And then, shall we complain
when they don’t? These communication failures, when they occur, are
not one-way affairs. If it takes two to tango, it takes two to
isolate as well. Come, avail yourself of the fellowship into which
God has set you. What did you suppose it was there for?
And then we have that final bit of instruction. See to it that none
of you repays evil for evil, rather seeking ever what is good for
everybody. And note well that this is phrased to make clear that the
call doesn’t stop at the bounds of the church. It’s for all men. In
your dealings with the unbelieving world outside, don’t adopt their
habit of looking out for number one. Do they rebuke and revile you
for your faith? Do they believe different things than you do? This
is hardly a surprise. But neither is it excuse to rebuke and revile
in turn. How does that serve to represent the God you serve? Does He
do so? Did He do so with you? I mean, when He first brought you to
Himself, you were of exactly that nature, reviling Him and His,
laughing at the idea of some need for God. Oh. It’s a crutch for
weak men, this religion nonsense. Or, it’s so judgmental. Or, it’s
so old-fashioned. Good enough for our forebears in their
unenlightened state, perhaps, but hardly the thing for modern man, is
it? Well, yes, actually. It’s exactly the thing. But they are no
more inclined to hear it than were we. Until we did.
So, instead of developing ill-will towards these individuals, or
merely pitying them for their benighted condition, we are called to
seek out what will do them good, just as if they were brothers. It
comes back to that expansion of neighborliness that Jesus imparted.
Who is my neighbor? Why, everybody. It’s not something you can set
limits on. It’s not just your fellow Christian nor is it only your
own countrymen. It defies boundaries. That one who is a pariah in
society’s eyes? Yes, him too. He is your neighbor. That one with
whom we have been at war lo, these many years? The ones we have been
told to view as barbarians barely out of the Middle Ages yet? Yes,
even that one. Do they hate you? Perhaps so. But they are not the
enemy. They are neighbors. Seek to do good by them. And, as it
comes later in Paul’s writings, insomuch as it lies with you to do so,
be at peace with all men (Ro 12:18).
Leave the vengeance business to God. You, seek to do good by them.
That doesn’t preclude self-defense. It doesn’t preclude taking up
arms when occasion demands. Assuredly, those who went to battle in
the Second World War did not somehow violate their Christian faith in
doing so. Far from it. But to the degree that hatred for that enemy
was a matter of dehumanizing demonization, well, yes. There’s a
problem. It’s somewhat natural, in war, to have that mindset, I
suppose. I would actually rather hope we found such lethal force
pretty much impossible to bring to bear without this sense of needing
to address a great evil. But we daren’t let it bring us to see that
enemy as less than human. We daren’t lose sight of the reality of the
situation. It is not against flesh and blood that we battle, although
this battle may require real flesh and blood combat. No, the real
battle is elsewhere, in spiritual realms where dark powers hold sway
over those we oppose, and may just as readily hold sway over some with
whom we are joined. Not every young man who went to war for the
allies was pure of motive. Military service is not some automatic
guarantee of good behavior. Far from it. But neither is it a marker
by which to exclude from godly fellowship. It is, as Paul observes, a
ministry of God, this arm of civil service. It does not bear arms in
vain. But, like any other good of God, it can be abused. So can our
appeals to faith and church.
But again I say, rejoice! Rejoice as you seek to do good to all.
Rejoice even when that effort is rebuffed. Rejoice when they
spitefully use you. Rejoice that you do still have those who will
come alongside, who will buffer you with their prayers, with their
counsel, and where possible and needful, with their effort. God has
indeed arranged brilliantly for His own. If we have thought
otherwise, perhaps we ought to look at ourselves. Have we been
cutting off our own supply lines? Have we taken ourselves away from
those means of grace which He provides, and shall we complain of the
lack of provision? Foolish child! Admonish yourself for your
unruliness! Pick yourself up and get back there. You need it, and it
has been supplied to you in abundance. But God, while He does the
work in us, does not suffer sluggards gladly. Do your part, and you
will soon find that He has done His.
Well, this has wandered down paths of thought I had not expected, but
I thank my God for what He has provided. It comes, I think, as loud
correction for my own course, my own ways of late. It’s easy to
self-isolate, and recent years have only made it easier. But to sit
alone in the dark and complain of loneliness when light and fellowship
have always been right there awaiting our participation is beyond
childish. It is foolishness in the uttermost. May as well send God
packing and then wonder why He doesn’t call anymore. Repent, boy.
Change your ways, and partake of that fellowship and family your
loving Father has supplied.
Yes Lord, and so I shall. So I do. I thank You, also, for that
sweet sense of being ministered to by the songs we practiced last
night. It is too rare a thing that I really take in the message
that is there to be heard, but by Your grace, what they spoke last
night was exactly to my need, as well You know. It was, I dare say,
a musical presentation of this very set of instructions, admonishing
by reminder. I am who You say I am. Yes. It was encouraging, as I
heard the strong and needful truth that You hear our cries. And
forgive me, for I have been crying to myself, rather than to You.
What have I been thinking? But You are there, and You are patient
with Me. And You have seen to it that I am not left to be
despondent, but lifted by Your word, by Your intervention. Thank
You indeed, and let me truly lay hold of that intervention. Let me
truly grab tight to the rope You have thrown me, and allow You to
pull me out of this mired darkness of late. Glory be to Your name.