The Gospel

a. Bought at a Price

[10/16/20]

I have spent rather a lengthy period on considerations of law and ordinance, and as such it seems only proper to turn and consider the countering power of the Gospel in this affair of the Church. The Church without the Gospel is a terrible, mean place. It is a place of impossible demands and offering no solutions. At most, it can show me the God Who Is, but without the Gospel, showing me this can only bring despair. Here is perfect holiness and perfect power, perfectly knowledgeable of my every thought and deed. What hope is there for me? What could I do that would cause One such as this to look upon me with favor? There is nothing. All hope is lost, and I may as well, like Judas, just hang it all and be done.

But the Gospel changes everything! It does not remove the Law from us, nor leave us with diminished standards. It is not, as I have termed the idea on numerous occasions, some Codex of the Achievable. It lowers no bar for us, puts no thumb on any scale. But it does utterly demolish the curse of the Law, inherent in our failure. As Pastor Dana would often pronounce, though I’m sure I deviate in paraphrase, the Law declares, “Here’s what you must do.” The Gospel boldly proclaims, “Here’s what’s been done for you in Christ Jesus.” The stunning, almost unbearably good news is this: All that the Law required and more is done for you in Christ. Look to any demand, and there it is! He had done it.

As I have been looking particularly at those two ordinances of the Church which we hold dear – Baptism and Communion – I have been constantly brought to this mirror, this junction of demand and supply. Again, the old hymn comes to mind. “Jesus paid it all; all to Him I owe.” I find I am a little less easy with the second clause, for it seems to shift the burden back onto my shoulders, and that ought not to be the case. Jesus paid it all. End of story. “It is finished!” He cried out as He made that payment. Nothing remains undone. The court of heaven has been satisfied on our account, and this by the Judge whose court it is! What would you add to that? How, pray tell, would you go about repaying that debt you think you owe?

Now, there is a truth of sentiment, if you will, in that verse, but I don’t know as I can express it as a matter of debt. Rather, it’s a matter of ownership. We spoke of it in looking at Communion, certainly, and it’s also there in the observance of Baptism. Jesus died that I may live. He paid my penalty in the court of heaven, yes. But there’s also that sense of redemption, of purchase. The idea of purchase brings with it the sense of slavery, and that’s not entirely inappropriate here, although it’s not entirely appropriate, either. Let me explore that thought a bit.

First, we must recognize that slavery as practiced in the culture extent, certainly, in Old Testament Israel, and to some degree even in the culture of New Testament Rome, was not always a matter of involuntary servitude. It could take that form, and with the wrong master, it could be a cruel existence indeed. But it could also be a voluntary matter, something nearer our modern ideas of employment. The terms may have been more stringent, and the authority of the boss more absolute, but it was not so different as all that. The slave often had within his power the opportunity to purchase his freedom in due course, whether it be for a price in money, or for completion of a period of time in service.

What is there in the imagery of slavery for us is not always there in the slavery we observe in the Bible. The servant in the king’s house was yet a slave, yet that position was a position of significant honor. No less, the steward in the master’s house had a position of significant power and influence, as we see in the parables of Jesus. He may labor for another man’s profit, but he does well for himself in the course of it, and he is able, by his diligence and reward, to be of service to his fellow servants as well. Indeed, it is required of him that he do so. It is not a position of automatic dishonor, but rather a relationship of relative power.

We, as purchased slaves of our Lord, confess this relationship. He is in charge, and I am not. His is to command, and mine is to obey. But it is no confession of coerced obedience. It is no declaration that I obey for fear of my life. Yes, we do owe Him all, insomuch as our very life is ours by His determination. He has given us life, and that eternally. If everybody’s gotta serve someone, here is the One to serve! “You have the words of life. To whom shall we go?” (Jn 6:68).

Here, Anshelm saw the enormity of our debt of sin. Sin is, of necessity, against eternal God, and as such, its criminality is eternal. Its penalty is infinitely beyond our means to repay. If God is committing Himself by covenant to provide all, and our sin, our breach of covenant, has cut us off from said provision, what is left by which to repay? If the debt is infinite, how can we even think to make down payment? That message comes out again and again in Jesus’ parables. The one who owed multiple lifetimes worth of debt found himself forgiven, not due to repayment, but due to the choice of him who was owed. Granted, that one turned around and proved most unforgiving in his own turn, and therein lies a message for us – the message intended to be heard in that parable, but the point remains. The one who is forgiven much, loves much. And that love infuses our service to our Lord as those He has purchased from slavery to sin.

b. Bought as a Bride

[10/17/20]

While we have this view of our purchase from slavery, there is a second aspect that must be contemplated in light of the Gospel, and that is what we have been purchased into. Yes, there is the aspect of being made servants to our Lord God, but there is something far more beautiful to behold, as well. The Lord has bought for Himself a bride. He has paid the bride-price to make us His own, not as slaves, but as beloved friends, as, if you can imagine it, a suitable helpmate! Did we not consider this aspect of marriage as I looked at the matter of ordinances?

We have yet some small idea of bride-price, although it is not so prominent in our culture anymore. We understand the concept of a dowry paid, at least in that it involves presenting the father of the bride with something of a return on his investment in his daughter. Honestly, in our culture, it seems things go more the other way, and the father of the bride pays extravagantly to have her taken off his hands to be cared for by another, but that is, to be truthful, a rather horrifying corruption of what is symbolized by the reverse. I say this as one who has acted the role of, at least step-father of the bride, and who may yet, someday, be father to another bride. I would not suggest that the cost of the wedding is actually looked upon by the father as chiefly an unloading of responsibility, and paying the groom to take care henceforth of his daughter. It may play out that way for some, but I suspect it is far and away an exception case.

What then? We could be cynical and see it as nothing more than a father preening, showing off his good fortunes in his capacity to finance some lavish event. But that, I think, demonstrates too hard a heart in the cynic, and does not truly reflect the intent of the father. We can look upon it as an outpouring of love for his daughter. Surely that is the intent. Yet, it remains rather a sad affair that a father feels the need to spend so great a fund, to entertain so many in so great a fashion, in order to prove his love. One hopes, then, that it is not a proving, but solely an expressing of that love. The fallen nature of man ensures that all manner of less noble motivations influence the man, but there, at the heart of it remains the ideal: To express one’s love for his child as she moves into the next stage of her life.

Now turn that image around to reflect the matter of marriage in the culture of first century Israel, and even earlier. He who would take to himself a bride must first make payment to obtain her. This, too, may express numerous motivations, but the primary intent is twofold. First, there is in this act an evidence of the potential groom’s high valuation of the one he would make his bride. By the bride-price, he makes evident the depths of his desire to make this woman his own. At some base level, we could write that off to the immediacy of passions, of lustful longing willing to do whatever it takes to have satisfaction. But then, marriage in accordance with the practices of the time, was no quick path to satisfaction in that regard. And I’ll just say outright that I’m going to ignore the implications of arranged marriages for my purposes, although that, too, could be brought to bear on the nature of the Gospel.

But for the groom, as I say, there is first this purpose of demonstrating to the father whose dear daughter he would wed that she is just as dear to him. It is a proclamation that yes, I love her every bit as much as do you, and even more! But then, there is also this, and I think particularly in the Jewish practices of the day. Here was proof that the groom was actually capable of caring for her as much as was her father. In that light, look at Jesus’ promise that He was going to make a house for us. This was a prerequisite for marriage. If you plan to wed my daughter you will need to show me that you can provide shelter for her, a place for her family to grow with you. You will need to show me that you are a wise workman, and can supply her with the necessities and niceties of life by your labors. You need to have evidence of some maturity, some wisdom, some diligence in your efforts, that I may be assured your care for my daughter can match your desire.

Okay, that’s a rather lengthy divergence into explanation of the imagery, but now let’s bring it to bear on this purchase our Lord has made. I have noted already His assurance that He goes to make a place for us ‘in My Father’s house’ (Jn 14:2-3). “And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you to Myself.” This should also give us some idea of just who it is to whom Jesus paid the bride-price. That payment is made to the father of the bride. Who, then, is He paying? Certainly not our earthly father. Neither, we must be clear, was He paying off the devil. To do so would pay far too great a respect to the devil’s power, if not his person. No, He was paying the Father of the bride, the one He spoke of often as His own Father, and the One He taught us to recognize as “Our Father, who art in heaven.”

He, as Father of us all, is the One to receive the bride-price. He gives the bride to His Son. This is so especially evident in John’s Gospel, but let me take just the one example here. “This is the will of Him who sent Me, that of all that He has given Me I lose nothing, but raise it up on the last day” (Jn 6:39). Here He is speaking of that eternal life which He gives to all who believe in Him. He clarifies. “No one can come to Me, unless the Father who sent Me draws him; and I will raise him up on the last day” (Jn 6:44). The connection is made in that closing clause. The former set is the same as the latter set. Father draws, Father gives. But at what price is the bride given? At the price necessary to obtain for her the necessary provision of eternal life.

I go back to the example of David and his efforts to provide dowry for Michal, the daughter of Saul. Never mind Saul’s machinations in suggesting this marriage, and never mind his motives in choosing the dowry he did. For my purposes, the message is the cost. Go, David, and demonstrate your worth by bringing me the foreskins of a hundred Philistines, evidence of vengeance taken on the king’s enemies (1Sa 18:25). David was more than happy to comply, and even to provide double that which was asked (1Sa 18:27), and so Michal became his bride, for better or for worse.

Go back, as well, to a less bloody example in Jacob’s pursuit of Rachel as his bride. Laban drove a hard, and duplicitous bargain, and Jacob required to labor for him for years, only to be rewarded with the wrong daughter as bride (Ge 29). Then it became needful to labor yet again for years so as to obtain the bride of his choosing, and even then, it took extreme action for Jacob to free himself from Laban’s bargains and return home with his brides (Ge 31). Imagine that! Here were some fourteen years spent in the pursuit of a bride, and I will say a singular bride, for while Leah came as part of the package, she was never part of the bargain in Jacob’s eyes. And there, too, is a story with much more to explore than applies to our current point. Here, my point is the price.

I come back to that song yet again: Jesus paid it all. He paid in blood, His own life poured out in a fashion almost too gruesome for modern man to contemplate, although we find it practiced in certain ungodly cultures even to this day. But He paid more dearly even than that. He paid in utmost humiliation before His Father and ours. He paid in having to experience, even in so temporary a fashion, utter separation of that fellowship which has been His for eternity. I hit a snag here, in that God cannot change, yet God, for that brief period, knew a hiccup in fellowship, if you will. Was that a change? I guess, being as it was temporary and, at least from outside the experience, exceedingly brief as well as utterly necessary, we can say that no, it really wasn’t. But it was more wrenching to Jesus (and one suspects, to the Father and the Spirit as well), than anything the Romans had done to His body.

In that brief moment of three days’ time, He took upon Himself the full weight of the sins of all those from throughout the entire record of humanity whom the Father had given Him as bride. God had not changed, nor has He. He cannot, will not abide sin in His presence, and as such, as Jesus took upon Himself the sins of His people, it was necessary that He look away, that He turn His back on His Son, which may as well be saying on Himself. We think often of the agony of Christ, and indeed, that agony was severe, not only in His humanity, but also in His divinity. But that agony must also have cut deep into the Father. Even though it had been the plan from all eternity that this moment must come, how deeply it must cut to approach this most necessary moment, to see it unfold, even knowing how it all works out in the end! Is it any wonder that evidence of His wrath and agony were in abundance at the death of His Son. It may have been the plan. It may have been needful. It may have made possible a most glorious, truly wonderful result. But none of that makes the moment any less painful to bear, only the memory.

Jesus has bought for Himself a bride, a bride promised to Him, given to Him, by our Father, His Father. She has been chosen for Him and by Him. As a good Husband, He makes certain her provision. He makes a home for her in His Father’s house, according to custom, that she may come and be part of His family. For us, this is added to that adoption into Our Father’s house which has made Him Our Father in truth. It is rather confusing, as these images combine and in some ways conflict, but there it is. “You have been bought with a price” (1Co 6:20). You are not your own. You may not give yourself to another. Though the bridegroom tarry, it is no excuse to go chasing other men, other gods. Idolatry is adultery, and I suppose we could go ahead and reverse that association as well. But, bride of Christ, do not give yourself to another. Your bridegroom tarries only because He is preparing your place, and ensuring you the time to prepare for the wedding as well.

The bride takes time to make herself ready. We see that, for example, in the preparations of Esther in advance of marrying the king. But that was hardly exceptional, beyond perhaps the extravagance of the materials used. Jesus loved the church, and still does. He “gave Himself up for her; that He might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, that He might present to Himself the church in all her glory, having no spot or wrinkle or any such thing, but that she should be holy and blameless” (Eph 5:25b-27). Note well the context for Paul’s words. “Husbands, love your wives.” Hear the rejoicing in heaven when all is finally prepared and the bride is brought to her groom for all eternity. “Let us rejoice and be glad and give the glory to Him, for the marriage of the Lamb has come and His bride has made herself ready” (Rev 19:7).

The bride is the Church. The bride is not a subset of the Church, those who have indeed made themselves ready, but the whole of the Church, made ready in Christ by Christ, through the work of the indwelling Holy Spirit. Yes, there is purposefulness and effort in pursuit of sanctification, but it remains the case that it is God Who is at work in us, both to will and to work (Php 2:12). There’s just no escaping that verse for me.

[10/19/20]

So, we come up against a most wonderful, if most perplexing truth here. The bride has made herself ready. She has put in the effort, undergone the regimens that will prepare her for glory and for her glorious wedding day. Yet, it remains the case, that it is God Who is at work in the bride. It is God’s work that she is willing to put in that effort. It is God’s work that she is able to put in that effort. It is God’s work that has transformed her best efforts from filthy rags into the pure white robes of righteousness. This is a marvel. It is a seeming paradox which has left the Church divided in some ways as to what the whole balance of will and effort really is here. Is it possible that God works, and yet man resists? Is it not needful to the nature of the reward in heaven, it being in accordance with our works, that these works be truly our own? If it’s God working, then what are we but automatons with no volition? On the other hand, if man can resist God’s work, how is He sovereign? If rewards are in accordance with works, and works earn reward, then how is salvation by faith alone as Paul informs us sincerely that it is? If we are just automatons with no volition in our own actions, then on what basis is any violation of law charged against us?

The solution, it seems, is that really both things are true, even as Scripture would seem to demonstrate rather clearly. We are saved by grace alone, yet we do produce good works, we must produce good works. But those works do not save. They reflect the reality that salvation has occurred. It is God Who is at work in us that we are both willing and able to do those works He has prepared for us. Yet, we know also from experience that we are yet entirely too prepared to deny that service to Him, to ignore the good works we were to do in favor of going our own wicked ways. We may not always account our ways all that wicked. It is not as if we are going off to thrash the poor for no cause, or to have our way with our neighbor’s wives or steal his goods or what have you. But insomuch as we are not doing those works God prepared for us to do, God made us in order that we might do, we are in defiance of God, and how is that not wicked?

We may need to separate reward in heaven from the chief grace of entrance into God’s heaven. Salvation, after all, is our grant of citizenship, and even more, our proof of adoption into the very family of God. This we cannot speak of as reward, for we do not in any way earn that which is granted. It is wholly of God’s choosing, wholly of His gracious favor towards us. Yet He makes clear that we do have responsibility as to what we make of His gift. The talents of Jesus’ parable are not given to be hoarded, nor to be preserved for personal enjoyment, but to be invested in that which will profit the master, that which will redound to His glory. It is not enough to hide away what He has given and keep it safe against the day of His return. It is expected that we will have provided return on His investment in us. Some of us, one suspects, are going to find ourselves in trouble come the accounting. It may not be threat to our salvation, which was never earned, but I could see how this may, perhaps necessarily must have impact on our standing in God’s heaven.

Is there a ranking of the redeemed? I don’t know that there’s anything in Scripture that would demand us to accept such a thing, yet I don’t see anything that would demand we deny it either. If rewards are proportional to deeds, then it would seem there must be some degree of ranking going on, mustn’t there? Does this mean salvation is made possible by Christ, but must still be effectuated by our efforts? I don’t believe it means that in the slightest. Again, God is not so weak as that my will could thwart His will. I suppose at some level that must mean those works set out for me to do will indeed be done, and that, by me, as intended. Yet, I know there are also many failures to act along the way. And I know these have not come as some surprise to God, nor can my failures ultimately have managed to thwart his will. Yet, my failures count in some fashion. They cry out for forgiveness, and thankfully, they find answer in my Christ, my husband who shall come and take me home to be with Him in heaven’s perfection forever.

This is the gospel promise. In spite of my failures, in spite of the many ways I see my progress as insufficient, yet I have this assurance that in the fulness of time I shall have made exactly that progress that is needful. I hear John’s words of comfort and inhale them deeply. “Beloved, now we are children of God, and it has not appeared as yet what we shall be. We know that, when He appears, we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him just as He is” (1Jn 3:2). This is promised us, assured to us. In spite of what we see in ourselves now, in spite of the spots we see that still need washing, and the wrinkles that need ironing, the day will come. And we know the day, if not the timing of that day. It is in that day when He appears that we shall discover ourselves made complete. We shall observe Paul’s vision confirmed, as “this perishable must put on the imperishable, and this mortal must put on immortality” (1Co 15:53). But wherefore that perishable mortality in the first place? It came as the due penalty for sin, and cannot be done away except sin and sin’s penalty be done away. And this, dear one, was done in full in Christ once for all when He, the innocent Son, died the sinner’s death on behalf of His bride. He paid our dowry of blood in order that our Father might account us redeemed, and fit spouse for His perfect, Holy and Righteous Son.

c. The Gospel in the Old Testament

Now, the gospel is something we think of as primarily a New Testament, new covenant matter. But it most assuredly is not confined to the New Testament. Indeed, properly understood, the Gospel is older even than the Old Testament, but it is certainly there to be seen from the outset. We will be familiar, I suspect, with the proto-gospel delivered to Adam and Eve at the time of their expulsion from Eden. If it isn’t familiar, it certainly ought to be so. “And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed; He shall bruise you on the head, and you shall bruise him on the heel” (Ge 3:15). It is to be hoped as well that we recognize how that promise does the slow reveal throughout the course of the Old Testament. It is not, as Eve first supposed, that first child born of her womb. “I have gotten a manchild with the help of the LORD” (Ge 4:1).

It has to be said that the clause, ‘with the help of’ would appear something of an insertion. It’s been some time since I had reason to visit Young’s Literal Translation, but here it is particularly revealing, and demonstrates that the italicized portion in the NASB is not due to debates over words in this case, at least not any readily apparent debate. “I have gotten a man by Jehovah.” The marginal note in the updated NASB goes almost too far in the opposite direction, and drops the clause entire, leaving it ‘I have gotten a man, the LORD’. I think perhaps I like the KJV here. “I have gotten a man from the LORD.” That seems to convey her thinking rather well. He had promised a seed, and here it was. But of course, Cain would hardly prove the redemptive seed of promise.

We find the promise reiterated and refined as it passes down through the patriarchs. Abraham hears it, and thinks maybe God needs some help, and so he produces a child, but not the one of God’s choosing. Isaac comes along later, the child of promise. Jacob and Esau are born to Isaac, and Esau being the first born, he is seemingly the clear inheritor of the family promises. And certainly, Jacob’s trickery does little enough to suggest him as the heir of God’s covenant. Yet, Jacob it is, and Esau proves himself entirely unworthy.

I’m going to fast-forward now to the prophets, and in particular to a passage which led me to consider this subdivision of my topic of the Gospel in the first place. Let me lay out the passage. “For our transgressions are multiplied before Thee, and our sins testify against us; for our transgressions are with us, and we know our iniquities: Transgressing and denying the LORD, and turning away from our God, speaking oppression and revolt, conceiving and uttering from the heart lying words. And justice is turned back, and righteousness stands far away; for truth has stumbled in the street, and uprightness cannot enter. Yes, truth is lacking; and he who turns aside from evil makes himself a prey” (Isa 59:12-15a). Wow! That’s some gospel, some really good news you have there, Jeff! Thanks. But does this not once more describe the world we live in? I wonder, this side of Eden, if there has ever really been a time when it didn’t. No, honestly, I don’t wonder at all. For all our sense of a golden past, somewhere back in our history, this has ever been the way with us. But it’s not the end of the story, only the current chapter.

“Now the LORD saw, and it was displeasing in His sight that there was no justice. And He saw that there was no man, and was astonished that there was no one to intercede” (Isa 59:15b-16a). Now, I have to say I think there’s a bit of license taken here. God is hardly astonished or taken aback by the unrighteousness of sinful man. That’s not to say He is pleased by it, or that it somehow suits His idea of perfection that it should be so. But it is, somehow, part of His good and perfect plan, and was part thereof from before the first step of that plan ever was put into action. Somewhere prior to Genesis 1:1, to the degree that one can speak of a ‘prior’ in timeless eternity, all of this was already known, and the remedy already set in place. Isaiah didn’t miss that part.

“Then His own right arm brought salvation to Him; and His righteousness upheld Him. And He put on righteousness like a breastplate, and a helmet of salvation on His head; and He put on garments of vengeance for clothing, and wrapped Himself with zeal as a mantle” (Isa 59:16b-17). No doubt, you can hear Paul’s echo of that imagery ringing in your ears, as he instructs the Ephesians, and us as well, to put on that same breastplate and helmet (Eph 6:11-17). I note, however, that no instruction is given as to taking upon ourselves the garments of righteousness, for “Vengeance is Mine,” says the LORD (Dt 32:35). That’s not your part. It’s His and His alone.

And there, again, we see the Gospel unfolded before God’s people. “For the LORD will vindicate His people, and have compassion on His servants; when He sees that their strength is gone, and there is none remaining, bond or free” (Dt 32:36). What is this but an echo of the promise Abraham laid hold of there on Mount Moriah? “The LORD will provide for Himself the lamb for the burnt offering, my son” (Ge 22:8). If ever there was a bold declaration of faith, that has to be it. Abraham knew what he had been called upon to do. He knew the promise God had made of a nation birthed from his loins, but he also knew his age. Here was his only son, and God was calling for him to give that son up. How could he even contemplate obedience? How could he continue to honor a God who would call for such sacrifice, and how could he find that God any better than, say, Topheth? Here was the answer, the only answer. “The LORD will provide the sacrifice.” Here, too, is our only answer, for as sinners from conception, we have no means within us to satisfy His court’s demand for justice. But the promise holds. “The LORD will provide the sacrifice,” has become, “The LORD has provided the sacrifice.” “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” (Jn 1:29). His own right arm has brought salvation to Him, and therein is our sole and certain hope.

d. The Gospel Delivered

[10/20/20]

And so, we come to the Gospel delivered, proclaimed to the nations – first in Galilee, then throughout Israel and outward to the nations. It begins not with John, but earlier, with his father. He is informed of his son’s birth by the angel Gabriel, and though he finds it difficult to believe, he is really left no choice. Of his son, Gabriel says, “it is he who will go as a forerunner before Him in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers back to the children, and the disobedient to the attitude of righteousness; so as to make ready a people prepared for the Lord” (Lk 1:17). Many, it seems, knew of this message concerning John’s birth, but misunderstood it. They thought him the one to follow, and a whole sect formed around his ministry in the wilds of Galilee, persisting even after his death. But John himself understood things better. When asked, “Who are you?” he confessed, and did not deny, “I am not the Christ” (Jn 1:19-20). Pressed for further answer, he said, “I am a voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘make straight the way of the LORD,’ as Isaiah the prophet said” (Jn 1:23).

We see quite clearly that Israel understood a Messiah was coming, one anointed by God for her rescue. What they quite misunderstood, as it also becomes clear, was the nature of that Messiah and of His rescue operation. This was not a restoration of dynastic Israel to her former power. This was not a throwing off of Roman domination. It was something far more serious than any issue of world politics. It was the kingdom of God being firmly established here on God’s earth, compared to which presidents and kings and emperors, and those nations and empires they represent, are nothing.

But John’s birth foretells in its way another. His ministry, while absolutely critical and in fulfillment of the prophetic message from of old, is preparatory in itself. He prepares the way. But Jesus comes, and towards the end, proclaims, “I AM the Way.” I jump ahead rather a bit, though. Let me go back to His arrival, or slightly prior to it.

Gabriel is once more out on assignment, this time to the little backwater city of Nazareth in Galilee, to visit a young child, at least by our standards, named Mary. She is betrothed, but yet a virgin. The marriage has yet to be consummated. And here comes Gabriel with what might be considered unwelcome news to such a tender young lady. “You’re going to conceive!” (Lk 1:31). If that had been the whole of it, this would be no better than the cavorting, lecherous gods of ancient Greece. But there’s far more to it. “You will bear a son, and you shall name Him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High; and the LORD God will give Him the throne of His father David; and He will reign over the house of Jacob forever; and His kingdom will have no end” (Lk 1:31-33).

Needless to say, this news perplexes Mary, but not so as to doubt the veracity of what she’s been told, only to wonder at the means. She understands enough of life to know that she has not done anything that could lead to conception. She also understands enough, one suspects, of her Law and Prophets to recognize the message being delivered. Nobody in Israel was likely to misapprehend the title, “Most High.” This was the Son of God that was being announced, and the pronouncement of a permanent kingdom under His rule, not the rule of Him and one from His loins, as David had been promised, but His own rule – eternity is not in the scope of human endeavor, not in this mortal frame. Already, here in the announcement made to a young teenage girl in Galilee, we have the declaration that God’s own Son is arriving in the flesh. It might take awhile yet to comprehend that God’s own Son is Himself God, for God has not changed, nor has His word to Israel. “Hear, O Israel! The LORD our God is one Lord” (Mt 12:29). And note well, it is the Son Himself who declares this fundamental truth. And He proceeds, at a later date, to declare plainly, “I and the Father are one” (Jn 10:30). Nobody had any doubts as to the claim He was making on that occasion.

I don’t think Mary had any real doubts about what Gabriel was declaring there at the start. “Behold, the bondslave of the Lord; be it done to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38). Knowing what the Law demanded for the adulteress, and knowing how society must surely assess this young lady showing up months pregnant and unmarried, these are not the words of one with questions and doubts about the veracity of the message delivered. This is the determination of one confident in God and God’s messenger.

Spin forward to His birth, and His being brought to the temple for circumcision in accordance with the Law. They are met by Simeon, who was eagerly on the lookout for this promised Messiah, “and the Holy Spirit was upon him” (Lk 2:25). He had been promised something, and he trusted it. He had been promised he would see Messiah before he died, and seeing this eight-day old baby Jesus, he knew that promise had been fulfilled. Look. Nothing about a wriggling baby swaddled and brought to temple was going to raise a flag saying, “He’s the One!” Nothing about Mary and Joseph would suggest them as the bearers of so great a child. Indeed, we are informed, as to Messiah, the Servant of God, that there was nothing about His looks to commend Him to our attention. Yet, Simeon saw, because, “the Holy Spirit was upon him.” Flesh and blood, as Jesus would later tell Peter, did not reveal this to him. And Simeon rejoices loudly. “My eyes have seen Thy salvation, which Thou hast prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light of revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of Thy people Israel” (Lk 2:30-32).

Anna, daughter of Phanuel, adds here thanks to Simeon’s blessing of the child, for she, too, recognized Who had come, and spoke continually about Him ‘to all those who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem’ (Lk 2:38). Things were happening. Promises were being fulfilled. The kingdom was drawing nigh, and her King had been born. Understand that the path had been laid out long ago, as we measure time. Israel knew it was coming. Babylon knew it was coming. Those magi who came from the east understood the significance of events. Herod understood, though he thought to stop it lest he lose power, and thus, he lost everything.

But it would take time and an awful lot of teaching and training for even His closest followers to truly apprehend Who He was and what it meant that He had come, when once His ministry was truly started. Jesus being tasked with full obedience to the whole of God’s Law, obeyed in growing up before He began to minister. Ministry was a matter for the mature, and He must reach His maturity if He would minister. That was not an age of reason, or the age at which He could be construed as sufficiently self-aware to commit Himself to live by the Law. It was not some societal age of majority, that moved as the government decided to move it. It was God’s determination that the man must be thirty years of age before he begins to serve in this role. And with John had come an amplification of those cleansing, sanctifying acts which had marked out the priesthood from the outset. We saw that connection in looking at baptism. Now we see it with the dawning of the Gospel. Jesus comes to be baptized, in obedience to this prophet of God, and the prophet looks sees Him coming, and says, “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” (Jn 1:29). He had been marked out by the Father Himself, as the Holy Spirit descended upon Him ‘as a dove out of heaven,’ and remained upon Him (Jn 1:32). And hear his clear proclamation. “I myself have seen, and have testified that this is the Son of God” (Jn 1:34). Now, we can suggest that the Apostle is putting words in John’s mouth that he never said, so as to consolidate Jesus’ claims, but then we would have to confront the many followers of the Baptist who could have readily debunked John’s message if he were fabricating or embellishing the story. And to the best of my knowledge, no such effort came about. Indeed, we later find disciples of the Baptist coming more fully to Christ as they are given to understand the whole of events.

[10/21/20]

That reference to the Lamb of God was another reference, like reference to the Most High, that was not going to be lost on the faithful Israelite, nor even on the posturing Sadducee. It makes clear allusion to the Passover, and in particular, to the sacrifice associated with that feast. Here, as John plainly states, is the taking away of sin, atonement made. But here is atonement made once for all. What the Old order had been granted to do by degree, has now been done in full. As the author of Hebrews points out, the offerings made by the Aaronic priesthood could not truly address the problem of sin. They could not eliminate the due penalty of death. Anshelm made the reason clear. Sin is against eternal God, and therefore an eternal crime deserving of eternal punishment. The death that must be paid as that punishment must be eternal death. But we are not eternal. We are mortal. We cannot pay. Lambs and oxen cannot suffice. Even the likes of a Moses or an Enoch or an Elijah cannot suffice. Let me say that again. Whatever became of Enoch, or of Elijah, or of Moses, the debt of sin remained upon them until Christ Jesus took that debt upon Himself and satisfied the court’s demands on their behalf. Enoch and Elijah may have left this earth alive, but I think it must be said, particularly given Paul’s explanation of the resurrection’s necessity, that they underwent death before they reached heaven. It may have been the mere blink of an eye in their case, but it must have been. Mortal body cannot put on eternity. Mortal body cannot atone, either, for its owner’s sins.

But there was a Man who came. He was born into this life, grew as a child of humanity, attained to adulthood as a Man among men. He differed in this: He did not come into life bearing the sins of Adam, for His lineage was not through Adam, but through the Father. Indeed, as John makes sure we understand, He was Himself Adam’s creator. “The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being by Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being” (Jn 1b-3). That certainly included Adam. But there was a second thing that marked Him out as unique among all humanity: Having been born sinless, He also died sinless. His life was a life of perfect obedience to all of God’s Law. He was not selective in His obedience. He was not occasional in His obedience. He was perfect in His obedience. This Man who, while having divested Himself for a season of the prerogatives of divinity (Php 2:7), had not ceased to be God. How could He? God cannot turn Himself off and on. He is unchanging, eternal God. But He took upon Himself humanity, that He might know the trials of humanity personally, that He might more fully understand and have compassion on the failings of the flesh. Only thus could He be fit as our eternal High Priest. And as our eternal High Priest, He serves the chief duty of High Priest: Making offering in atonement for the sins of God’s people.

The offering He made was Himself. The Son of God, possessed of eternal life, became the scapegoat for God’s people, His people. The Lamb of God is, I think we must accept, both the sin offering and the scapegoat (Lev 16:8-10). He was slaughtered, and where the blood of the sin offering would be brought inside the veil and sprinkled on the mercy seat (Lev 16:15), in His case, the veil was rent top to bottom, and He Himself resumed His place on the mercy seat. He is the mercy seat. He poured out His own blood, an offering of eternal worth to atone for the eternal weight of our sins. And this He did while we were yet sinners, Paul reminds us (Ro 5:8). “While we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son. Much more, having been reconciled, we shall be saved by His life” (Ro 6:10). There’s your Gospel in a nutshell. God didn’t wait for us to repent and turn to Him. He made repentance possible for us, who could not find it in ourselves to be bothered. He came to those who were not seeking Him, and to them, He made Himself known. He walked into the Valley of Dry Bones, and breathed life, and those who had been sitting in deep darkness were found by the Light.

Hear this Savior declare Himself. “I came that they might have life, and might have it abundantly. I AM the Good Shepherd; the Good Shepherd lays down His life for the sheep” (Jn 10:10b-11). “I AM the Good Shepherd; and I know My own, and My own know Me, even as the Father knows Me and I know the Father; and I lay down My life for the sheep” (Jn 10:14-15). “For this reason the Father loves Me, because I lay down My life that I may take it again. No one has taken it away from Me, but I lay it down on My own initiative. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again. This commandment I received from My Father” (Jn 10:17-18).

He demonstrated His good news in reaching out to sinners like you and me. He did not reserve His attentions for the pious, nor even for the truly holy, to the degree that any man can be accounted truly holy. He went to those most in need of forgiveness, and them He forgave. He went to those most in need of faith, and them He gave faith.

Much is made of those occasions upon which Jesus did not do many miracles due to unbelief. There is a school of thought that suggests absence of faith precludes Jesus from acting, but that is rather a gross misunderstanding both of God and of faith. The idea that anything at all could preclude Jesus, God, from doing exactly as He chooses diminishes the concept of god to being little more than a particularly well-connected politician. There is no cannot with God, not in any meaningful sense. I suppose we must accept that God cannot cease being God, and that’s really my point. For unbelief to truly block God from acting would be for it to terminate His godhood, for God is all-powerful and all-wise. He would not propose to do that which He cannot do (assuming there were such an action to propose), and having purposed, nothing – not man, not the devil, not anything in all creation – can possibly prevent Him from achieving His purpose.

Secondly, this view radically reinterprets faith from being the gift of God’s grace. “By grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, that no one should boast” (Eph 2:8-9). Perhaps they would try and convince us that the ‘that’ which is not of themselves is the grace and not the faith, but that grace is from elsewhere is self-evident. Grace is the giving. What is the gift? The gift is faith. Faith is not that which you have worked up in yourself, but that which has been given you – and that, dear ones, while you were yet enemies. “You who were formerly far of have been brought near by the blood of Christ” (Eph 2:13). You didn’t come looking for Him, you wandering sheep. He came looking for you. You were busy chasing your fancy, poking your nose into places it ought not to be, putting yourself in harm’s way, wandering aimless in pursuit of the lusts of the world and the lusts of the flesh. But Jesus would not lose you. Jesus does not lose sheep. He has caused the Holy Spirit to be sent forth into the hearts of each one whom the Father has given Him. He has imparted that faith, given it as a gift to His beloved bride. It could not be purchased. It could not be earned. But it could be given by the Giver of Life.

To close out this particular line of thought, a careful look at that business of not doing many miracles ought to put paid to any idea of incapacity. The verse in question is Matthew 13:58. “And He did not do many miracles there because of their unbelief.” Two things jump out at me immediately. The first is that there is no mention of could not. He did not – ouk epoiesen. This remains entirely volitional on His part. Cannot would be expressed as ou dunatai – not having the power, the authority. That’s a different matter entirely. Furthermore, Matthew’s statement does not indicate a total absence of miracles, but a minimization. Some, apparently, still transpired. Was this in response to little pockets of faith amongst their unbelief, or was it in spite of their unbelief? We’re really not given sufficient information to answer.

But then, we really are, aren’t we? “But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you in order that you may be sons of your Father who is n heaven; for He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous” (Mt 5:44-45). He sends this gracious gift of faith upon those whom He chooses, and faith having been given, His own answer to His voice. And here is the most marvelously good part of this marvelously good news. “My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me; and I give eternal life to them, and they shall never perish; and no one shall snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are One” (Jn 10:26-30). And at this wonderfully, incredibly, gloriously good news, “The Jews took up stones again to stone Him” (Jn 10:31). Apparently, these were not His sheep.

But look upon the utter assurance afforded us in this gospel. We, having heard, know ourselves known by Him. The good part of this is not that we know Him. Demons know Him, and tremble for the knowing. No. The good part is that He knows us. Go back to the message about the sheep and the goats, and we find ourselves numbered among the sheep, not among those to whom He says, “Depart from Me. I never knew you.” We, having heard, shall follow Him. That, too, is not left to question. It is a declared certainty. We shall never perish. That doesn’t mean we won’t undergo physical death. This body has to cease in order that the resurrection body may be assumed. Whether in the grave or in the sky, this does not change. But death is not permanent. Perishing is eternal. Perishing is unanswerable punishment for eternal sin. This is not our lot, who have heard the Master’s voice. Look at that double assurance given: We are in His hand, and also in His Father’s hand. “And on one is able” to snatch us out from that utterly secure position.

This is not something earned, but something given. This is not assurance worked up within ourselves by sheer force of will, but assurance imparted. Boasting is utterly removed from us, for we are forced to concede that the whole work of salvation, and even the following work of sanctification, is entirely of Him and none of ourselves. We strive, but the striving has not brought about our salvation or our sanctification. Rather, the free gift of God has given us cause to strive as our own gift of love unto Him Who saved us.

e. The Gospel Possessed

[10/22/20]

I hope I have made the case well that this gospel, this great good news of salvation and assurance, is delivered to us in Christ, by the Spirit, according to the good pleasure of the Father. Actually, I may not have made the full scope of that plain, but this is the sum of it. The Father gives us to the Son. As conceited as it seems, we are God’s gift to His Son, which is to say, to Himself. The Son, receiving this gift and seeing our distressed condition, undertakes to restore us to our full splendor. I want to say refashion us, but that term leaves the impression of dissatisfaction with the gift as received, and that’s not the case at all. Rather, the Son sees through our current condition to perceive the original sheen. He looks at His fallen bride and sees her as Eve once was in the garden. It is His love for us, which is in turn a reflection of His love for the Father, and thus the Father’s gift given Him, that leads Him to undertake all that must be done to see that original sheen brought forth once more. So, no, we are not refashioned, but refurbished. And how is this done? It is bought at the price of His own life, redeemed by His own obedience and sacrifice. But it is applied, sent our way, made ours, through the work of the Holy Spirit, done in accordance with the Father’s will and the Son’s request. The whole of the Trinity (as if there could ever be but a part) comes together in the delivering of this gospel to the believer by faith. Indeed, apart from their united work, there could be no faith and thus, no believer. The Gospel would be hard news indeed, for it could only condemn those to whom God does not provide the gift of faith. Apart from that gift, the message of good news may be heard, and even believed true, but it cannot be received. It would be like finally seeing what was behind door number three when you chose door number two, and finding there the real prize. This could have been yours, but no.

But here I want to turn to the gospel possessed. It is almost the same thing, isn’t it? After all, if God has delivered this gift, and determined our salvation, it’s really not in question that we shall possess it, is it? We may have cause to question it, given our continued fallen habits, and the gradual pace of our sanctification, which may at times appear stalled or even retrograde. But again, I appeal to the god-ness of God. If our salvation was ever real, then it is forever real. It is not now, nor ever was, in question.

Does this plant me in the “once saved, always saved,” camp? Yes and no. Distinction must be made between the clear (at least to me) doctrine of Scripture as to the eternal assurance of the saints, which again, hinges not on the saintliness of the elect, but on the sovereignty of God who saves, and the caricature of this doctrine which supposes we are free to live as we like once saved, since our ticket has already been punched. The problem with this latter view is its propensity to disregard sin. I’m already forgiven, the reasoning goes, so why sweat it? We don’t wish to be crippled by being so sin-conscious, so weighted down with guilt for what is, after all, forgiven. In its most grotesque and extreme form, this mindset leads to the idea that I need make no amends for my sins against my fellow man because, after all, God saved me. I’m no longer that man, but somebody new. To be clear: Becoming a new creation in Christ Jesus did not absolve you of responsibility for your past. It did not render those former sins non-existent. The record of those crimes in the books in heaven has been wiped clean, yes. The debt to God has been paid. But there remains the debt to man, reparations for your wickedness to your brother. The idea that you get off free of all responsibility is utterly reprehensible, and quite likely evidence that salvation was never yours in the first place.

That brings me to my reason for discussing this matter in pursuit of understanding the gospel possessed. We have, I hope, a proper sense of that gospel, the fact that Jesus came because of my sins, died to make good for my sins as concerns the penalty due to God, ended my enmity with God and satisfied God’s wrath with me. We have the understanding that this was not in response to my having kept my nose clean long enough, nor even to my desire to see myself cleaned up. It came as a free gift, even an unwanted gift; that is, until the gift was mine, and then its beauty and desirability was clear, and the gift became dear, as also, the Giver. It remains, “not of works, that no man should boast” (Eph 2:9). What then? How am I to know whether I have indeed received this wonderful gift, or whether I am fooling myself?

There is that first evidence, which Pastor Dana tended to emphasize, that the very fact that you care to ask is already evidence in your favor. The unredeemed may care about society’s assessment of them, and in this regard, may care that those in the church look upon them as good men, even as they hide their unbelief. They may, like our example a few paragraphs ago, assume the benefits, and even benefits that do not rightly accrue, and suppose that counts for faith. Yet, by their dismissiveness toward responsibility they demonstrate that what they assume to themselves is not in fact theirs. But for the redeemed there remains a keen awareness of sin’s continued presence, of the continued, pressing need for Christ. It is this awareness which may, if not properly addressed and understood, lead to doubting one’s salvation. It’s a thin line, I think, between hearing the conscience calling out for repentance, and thinking that call means your sins have been too much, and God has finally given up on you. But, again: If God had given up on you, conscience would no longer call. You’d be left in your darkness. And frankly, if God had given up on you, you would never have responded to the call in the first place.

This comes down to that message John has in regard to those who, by all appearances, had possessed saving faith, but then departed the Way. “They went out from us, but they were not really of us, for if they had been of us, they would have remained with us; but they went out, in order that it might be shown that they are not of us” (1Jn 2:19). I recall a dear brother of mine, as I supposed, from our former church. Here was a man deeply involved in the ministry of the church, one to whom I looked as an example of godly faith. And then, as it seemed in one day, he just ditched it all, left his wife and took up with another woman. How could this be? As another good brother of mine was wont to observe, this seems like clear evidence that one can indeed lose salvation. There was no doubt in his mind that this man had been not only by appearances, but in reality, a child of God. He may even be right. It has not been given to me to know how that man’s story finally played out, whether this was the temporary mess of one who has stumbled, or the final apostasy of one who was never really of us. I could take the example of one of the pastors in that church, as well, who went through a similar fall. I happened to see him the other day as I was running errands, and his faith was still clear and vibrant in him, or at the very least the appearance of faith. God knows the truth, and I do not, as regards either of these men. I won’t go so far as to say their condition is not my concern, but as I am not their shepherd in any fashion, I can only speak as the Lord leads, pray for their restoration if indeed they are wandering, and trust the Lord for the outcome.

My concern here is more upon the question of what it means to possess this Gospel, and what that looks like. First and foremost, to be possessed of this gospel means, as I have referenced repeatedly in prior sections, “I am not my own.” I have, by God’s choosing, been made a temple of the Holy Spirit, Who now indwells me. This has to shock us, and to the degree that it no longer does, I think we need to pray that we might once more realize the full significance of this development. God is perfect in holiness. He is utterly pure, and will not abide the taint of sin. The Holy Spirit is God. He is very God of very God, just as the Son is very God of very God. He is no less holy, no less perfect, no less pure. And here He is, resident in this man of sinful flesh. How can this be? I don’t know. I don’t suppose I’ll ever know. But I know this is the case. And here, as I was reading somewhere the last few days, is the utter horror of sin in the believer. I cannot sin except I drag my pure, holy God into the act. I suppose at some level that must remain figurative, an approximation of reality, for God most assuredly will not participate. But it is a point made for us in Scripture, indeed, part of why Paul reminds the Corinthians of this very matter. How can you, temple of God, permit your members to become joined to a harlot? Your members are now His members. You are, for all intents and purposes, forcing God into this same sinful act – again, I have to stress, you have not succeeded in that. He will not in fact participate, but however subconsciously, that is your intent. If you can make God sin like yourself, then perhaps He can no longer punish you for your sins, since He would then have to punish Himself for His. I’m guessing you never think of sin in this light. I don’t generally, not at the conscious level. But that’s what’s really going on. It’s all part of that same rebellion Satan started long ago.

[10/23/20]

But I see I have diverged from my point once again. What does it mean to be possessed of the Gospel? It means I am never apart from my God, whether I remain keenly aware of that reality or I have it damped down and lose sight of it. It means that as I consider my actions, I consider them together with Him. It means that all of life takes on a new significance, for all of life is now about the One Who saved me. Yes, that presents something of an idealized perspective, for in truth, I do not always consider my life and my actions in that light. But I know I should. In my better moments I do so. And in my worse moments, I am shocked to discover that He has in fact been guiding me in spite of myself.

I have noted, on occasion a few specific events from my life prior to knowing salvation which demonstrated this dynamic was in play even then. I suspect this is not an uncommon thing for believers, although I cannot say to what degree others are cognizant of such things in their own lives. But even now, I may be surprised to find myself reacting to events in ways that are significantly better than I would expect of me. God knows I often enough react in ways even worse than I expect of me, but that, sadly, is par for the course. To find I have excelled my own sense of my character comes as evidence of that reality of being indwelt by the Holy Spirit, held in hand by Father and Son, and guarded from my worst instincts. But even this is only hints at the meaning of being possessed of the Gospel.

I come back to the image God presented to Adam and Eve at their expulsion, of the seed of the woman. Now, it is to be understood that this was not just any child of Eve’s line, but a specific child at a specific time, in accordance with God’s plan, and that specific child was Jesus, born to Mary in the fulness of time, to be Savior to all who call upon His name, being called of the Father. But there is something found in this idea of seed which the Bible utilizes again and again in describing the life of the redeemed. There is a reason, I think, that Israel came to dwell in a land rich in agriculture. Seed time and harvest so much defined the rhythm of life, both in terms of earthly life and in terms of spiritual life. The feasts of the old covenant followed that rhythm, marked out the annual cycle of plantings and harvestings, and kept God’s people cognizant of His hand upon them and His provision for them. Communion is intended to convey a similar opportunity to remain cognizant of God’s hand and God’s provision.

But seed-time and harvest also present us with a clear picture of the relationship between salvation and sanctification, if we are able to see it. The former can be said to be the seed implanted. The Spirit enters. The seed of faith is planted. In due time, it is watered by the preaching of the Word. As we grow in understanding of God’s Word, faith matures in us. But here’s the thing: The seed must bear fruit, and the fruit of the seed is ever in keeping with its kind. Here, many of Jesus’ parables come to mind. One can think of the parable of the sower and the seed. The seed is good, but where the soil is not, the seed will not grow. Many will hear this Word, but only a portion, and perhaps only a meager portion as one measures the land will receive it and respond. But where the seed finds good soil? The harvest is plentiful. The Word is fruitful. Lives are being transformed.

One could think of the parable concerning the olive tree that was tended year upon year but failed to produce, and the owner of the tree grew impatient, informing his gardener to remove the worthless tree. Why? It was fruitless. Now, that parable presented a merciful stay of execution, but only for a brief season, and it was clearly a warning to the people of Israel that the time to bear the fruit of God’s Word was pretty much now or never. Arguably, the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD marked the never point. But even that, I believe, preserved a remnant. The more critical message in that event, as was hinted at in today’s Table Talk article, was that the Old Covenant was done. The New has come. But I digress, which must surely surprise nobody by this stage.

I would like to refer instead to Jesus’ use of the vine and branch as His description of His relationship to His people. Let’s have a look at it. “I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it, that it may bear more fruit” (Jn 15:1-2). Sounds harsh, but we see the value. Dead branches are of no use to the plant, and at worst, sap its energy, rendering the rest of the plant weaker. Wisdom insists the dead branch be removed. Pruning is perhaps less obvious, for it seems to cut away what is healthy. But the wise vinedresser knows how to prune in such a way that what grows in that place will more than replace what was removed. I could think of the lilac bushes that are common around us. Left unpruned, they will flower less and less, as worthless branches dilute the lifeblood of the sap. Or, consider the apple trees, from which sapper branches must be trimmed if one would have bountiful harvest. It’s a necessary discipline for the vine or the tree, and in fact improves its vitality.

To continue. “Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you, unless you abide in Me. I AM the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me, and I in him, he bears much fruit; for apart from Me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in Me, he is thrown away as a branch, and dries up; and they gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned” (Jn 15:4-6). NOTE: He who abides bears fruit. It cannot be otherwise. The lifegiving sap of the vine infuses the branch, and there can be no other outcome. Note also: “Apart from Me you can do nothing.” This is a critical matter to understand. It informs our concept of works and their significance, and that, as I see it, is what defines this matter of being possessed of the Gospel.

Hurray! I come to my point! Look at the message: The connected branch in which the sap of Life flows must bear fruit. This isn’t a matter of command, although it is commanded. It’s a necessity of the nature of things. The Gospel has taken root. The Spirit is indwelling. Eternal life has been given. There can be only one outcome. This is nothing one can work up in himself. “Apart from Me you can do nothing.” There may be efforts to put a good face on things. There may be false works put forth as true evidence, but they are not. They cannot be. They will be shown worthless. Neither are these good works a matter of earning God’s favor, nor even of making demonstration of one’s valuation of God’s favor. They are the necessary outcome. They are inevitable evidence of the Seed.

Let me bring another parable into focus here. “The kingdom of God is like a man who casts seed upon the soil; and goes to bed at night and gets up by day, and the seed sprouts up and grows – how, he himself does not know. The soil produces the crop by itself; first the blade, then the head, then the mature grain in the head. But when the crop permits, he immediately puts in the sickle, because the harvest has come” (Mk 4:26-28). Now, the intent of this parable is to speak of kingdom growth. It’s looking at the grand scope of God’s plan, and the working of the Gospel in the lives of men. But I would look at this particular angle; The seed is planted and it grows. It’s not about the man working. It’s not even about the soil working. It’s just how things work. If the seed goes into the soil (and here good soil is assumed), it grows. The farmer doesn’t know how. The soil doesn’t know how. If I look carefully, and consider this in light of the proto-gospel, the seed does all the work. Combine the two: The Seed, the promised Seed of the woman, does all the work. The soil must be made good soil, but soil does not make itself, nor does soil really have any much say as to its quality. Soil just is. Granted, modern methods understand how to enrich soil and make it sweeter, as we might say, but still, the soil has nothing to do with it. The farmer may.

Well, now, let us consider who is what here. The seed is clearly Jesus, or if you prefer, the Holy Spirit sent at Jesus’ request. The farmer is God, and while the parable, taking upon itself the humble imagery of humanity, does not know how things grow, God assuredly does. He, more even than any modern farmer today, knows how to sweeten the soil, knows exactly what is needful for that soil to nurture and nourish the seed. Be careful here. This does not put God in the place of needing us. Not in the least. God uses us. God works us in order that we may benefit from His use of us. But the seed grows, we know not how. What we do know is that the seed having grown must bear fruit. Where the seed takes root, there must eventually come the mature grain.

Back to the vine and the branch. It’s the same story. Where the life-giving sap of the Gospel flows, where life is lived in connection with the God of Life, fruitfulness is not an option. It’s a necessary outcome. It’s not a work done to earn God’s attention, nor a work done to show appreciation of God’s attention. It is, quite simply, the necessary impact of the Gospel’s real presence, of the Holy Spirit truly indwelling.

What is that fruit to look like? We’re in luck. We have been told. “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law” (Gal 5:22-23). If you are a branch connected to the Vine, then this fruit is growing. It cannot be otherwise. Paul isn’t giving the Galatians commands here. He is presenting the Gospel. If you are in Christ, this is what follows. If this hasn’t followed, it’s not a call to work harder at making them follow. You can’t make them follow. At best, you can make a botched effort at forcing the appearance. You may even develop some of these character traits, I suppose, by force of will. I can think of atheists who are loving after a fashion, whom men might count as good, who prefer peace to war and conflict. But it remains a fleshly work and therefore tainted by sin. What we are being shown here does not suffer the taint of sin, because it is not the work of the flesh. It is the fruit of the Spirit. It is holy as He is holy, and it grows in those who are God’s own because He has taken up residence in that life. Paul’s message is simply this: If there is no fruit, there is no seed.

The fruit of the Spirit may indeed be looked upon as a test for valid faith. It may be seen as giving answer to James’ requirement for works as evidence of faith, and he is quite right in that. Faith that cannot give the evidence of works in this fruit of the Spirit is not saving faith. It is a false front, a mask upon one’s true condition. It may be an intentional deception. It may be self-deception. But it is not being possessed of the Gospel. To be possessed of the Gospel is to be fruitful in accordance with the fruit of the Spirit. The one is the necessary and inevitable outflow of the other. It may have the equivalent of seasons. It may be imperfect as yet. But the fruit is growing, else the sap is not flowing. If you have cause for concern as to your fruitfulness, then by all means, give thought to the sap. Look to the juncture of your branch with the Vine and seek Him. Seek the wisdom of our Father the Vinedresser, that He may show you what needs trimming away in order that your proper fruit may grow. But the one thing that will get you nowhere is to try and force fruit to grow. It’s not you. It’s Him. There is the glorious upside to Paul’s bold declaration that, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me, and delivered Himself up for me. I do not nullify the grace of God; for if righteousness comes through the Law, then Christ died needlessly” (Gal 2:20-21).

How beautiful is the work of Christ! How easy is His yoke upon us; for He does all the work! Ours is but to walk humbly with our God. This does not leave us free to do as we darn well please, but it most assuredly removes the stress of compliance to His will, for as I have already referred to so often, “it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure” (Php 2:13). You know, that comes on the heels of a call to, “work out your salvation with fear and trembling” (Php 2:12). It’s not a call to indolence, but an absolute assurance of outcome. If it is God who is at work, what cause have I to doubt the outcome? His Word does not return to Him void, without accomplishing His desire, and succeeding in His purpose (Isa 55:11). Look where that leads: “You will go out with joy, and be led forth with peace; the mountains and the hills will break into shouts of joy before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands” (Isa 55:12). The stress is gone. Peace beyond measure has come. The seed of faith is growing, and the outcome is in the hands of the Father. Whom shall we fear? This is what it is to be possessed of the Gospel. This is the blessed assurance of the saint, not that he is good enough, but that God is god enough.

f. The Gospel Preached

[10/24/20]

I approach the end of this particular topic. I do so bearing in mind that I have been looking at the Gospel as a matter of defining Church, and considering the community worship of the Church. I noted at the outset this section that it seemed an odd place to take up the topic, but felt a good counter-balance to having spent time focused on the Law and ordinances. Here, I think, I arrive at a reason for having taken this time with the Gospel. We have considered how the Gospel is seen in the Old Testament, in what manner it was delivered to mankind in full, and lastly, what it means to be possessed of this Gospel. It all culminates, I think, in this last consideration regarding the Gospel preached.

This, too, flows from having come into possession of this Gospel. The Good News, having been taken in, and having taken hold, must bear fruit, as we have observed. That fruit includes obedience to God’s Law, which may at first seem a contradiction. But it is not. The Good News includes within it the power to obey, the capacity to obey; a capacity that was sorely lacking when we lived apart from the Gospel. The fact remains unchanged that, “apart from Me you can do nothing” (Jn 15:5). The fact remains unchanged that, “all our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment” (Isa 64:6b). At least, to the degree that we remain apart, the filth remains with us.

But the Gospel did not remove the need for obedience. After all, the Law does not change, for it defines God’s essence which is unchanging. As such, we find John writing to the church, “Beloved, I am not writing a new commandment to you, but an old commandment which you have had from the beginning; the old commandment is the word which you have heard. On the other hand, I am writing a new commandment to you, which is true in Him and in you, because the darkness is passing away, and the true light is already shining” (1Jn 2:7-8). What is this commandment which is both old and new? “By this we know that we have come to know Him, if we keep His commandments” (1Jn 2:3). Observe: Obedience hasn’t changed, but motive has. We don’t keep His commandments in hopes of earning His favor. We obey His commandments because we know Him, and have the infinite benefit of His favor already upon us. “Whoever keeps His word, in him the love of God has truly been perfected. By this we know that we are in Him: the one who says he abides in Him ought himself to walk in the same manner as He walked” (1Jn 2:5-6). There it is.

John is merely echoing what Jesus had already said. “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments” (Jn 14:15). That sounds like Law, doesn’t it? Here is a requirement placed upon you. But, beloved, Jesus has not hit you with an imperative. He has described you with an indicative. He is not commanding. He is speaking of how it will be. You will. Where there is love for Me, obedience will follow. Where the lifeblood of the Vine is flowing, the fruit of the Vine, the fruit of the Spirit will blossom and grow. Works are not merits that earn us favor, but evidence of that favor which has been given us by grace in spite of our utter lack of merit.

So, what are we to do? Well, we have pretty clear direction with the Great Commission, don’t we? “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (Mt 28:19-20). The Gospel is not a treasure to keep hidden having once come into possession of it. The Gospel must spread, expand, permeate the whole as leaven permeates the dough. Here is commandment: Go. Except there’s this exceedingly interesting aspect to the matter: The going is passive, and oh, by the way, it’s in the middle voice as well. I could almost hear it as, “Travel with Me,” but it most assuredly finds connection with that closing message that, “I am with you always.” We shall do this together, this thing I am commanding you to do. Make disciples. Teach. Let them see the example to follow in your lives. Live the Gospel before them, and when they come to be possessed of faith in their own right, baptize them. Give them that glorious opportunity to make public identification with God and His Christ. Let them proclaim that they have died with Him, that they are born anew into life in Him, that they are made a temple of the Holy Spirit, a living stone in the house of the Lord God. Yes, I’m packing rather a lot into that, aren’t I? But it’s all there.

Baptize them into the authority of the Triune God. I think that speaks at once both to the authority by which we baptize, and the authority the baptized now acknowledge as being over themselves. You are His; His to use, His to command. “My life is not my own.” Hear the example of the Apostle Paul. “I do not consider my life of any account as dear to myself, in order that I may finish my course, and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify solemnly of the gospel of the grace of God” (Ac 20:24). This is the Great Commission lived out in Paul. God gave me a job to do, and by God, I’m going to do it. It’s not arrogance. It’s conviction. It’s submission. It’s the true expression of abandonment to the divine will.

Now, I note that the Commission does not terminate at baptism. It’s not, bring them to faith, get them into membership, and then leave them to their own best effort. It continues. Having taught by example, now teach by what we might call normal teaching methods. Too often I have come across that mindset amongst good Christians that there is some stark divide between the Hebrew approach and the Greek approach that requires us to reject the latter in favor of the former. There is this mindset that thinks the Greek model of learning is inherently bad, if not outright evil, but the Hebrew approach is righteous and true. Jesus, they will insist, used the Hebrew approach. See? He lived with His disciples, or rather, they lived and traveled with Him. He modeled. He demonstrated. He showed by example what it was He sought that they might know. Well, yes. All of that is quite true. Of course, it was similarly true of the Greek philosophers as they taught their students; or their disciples, which by definition amounts to the same thing.

Furthermore, we can observe that Jesus didn’t teach by example alone, but spoke. He spoke often. He spoke seriously. He spoke intelligently, and brought the Word of God to bear on the lessons He sought to impart. He didn’t just make disciples, but He taught them as well. Here, in the Great Commission, we have this same thing echoed and commanded for His followers. What my preferred translation, the NASB, presents as, “make disciples,” is presented in the KJV as, “teach”. Following this line of thought about Hebrew and Greek methodologies, here is the Hebrew approach: matheteuo, let them become attached to you, to Christ really, as their teacher, becoming His follower, learning from His example, and emulating His life. Yes, it really isn’t attached to you at all, is it? It’s attached to Him. But this is followed, post-baptism in the flow of His command, with disasko, from whence our idea of didactic learning; instruction, we might say, after the Greek model. Instruct by words. Direct them. Advise them. Get their thinking straight. Speak with intent to influence their understanding. Isn’t that something? And what are we to teach in this manner? Obedience to all that He has commanded. Well, that must now include this commission itself, mustn’t it?

The Gospel is expansive. It desires, because God desires, that all might hear this Good News and respond positively to it. This is not Universalism. This is the ideal, I suppose you could say. It is not assurance that in the final tally, all will be saved. If that were the case, then too much of Scripture becomes nonsensical; the wrath of God becomes evil caprice no different than the abuses of Zeus and company. There can be no justice because all the criminals are set free and the court closed down. That’s not the Gospel. Heck, just look around the landscape of the last few months, and it becomes pretty obvious that such an approach to things does not produce anything even remotely heavenly. Quite the opposite. The Good News is good news because it announces our rescue from just such a future, and just such a future in perpetuity. Can you imagine, living as in the streets of present-day Portland, where unreasoning anger and self-willed violence are the rule? Can you imagine knowing that this will be your experience now and forever, with not even death to look forward to as a terminating event? But this is what Universalism must result in finally. It’s not some idyll where everybody’s good, but rather a permanent state in which nobody is good. I’ll pass, thanks.

Yet, the desire is there in God, that all might be saved. It expresses His greatest preference. If this glorious and perfect plan of Creation could have been achieved with that end, He would be pleased. But it would not have been perfect, and as such, it would not have been His work. That’s hard for us to lay hold of, even harder, I think, to accept. How is this not God’s will thwarted? How is this not His power limited? I’ll leave it for another time to try and answer that to anybody’s satisfaction. Here, I must let it suffice that God is Good, and His work is Perfect. His work, by the clear message of His own words, and the clear record of His work in times past, includes a vast number of folks who quite simply are not saved. Pharaoh is prime example, but hardly the only example. It’s pretty safe to say that Cain didn’t make it, or Nimrod, or any number of Jews, Assyrians, Babylonians, and Egyptians who died in their sins. I’m pretty comfortable suggesting that men like Hitler, Stalin, Mao, and Castro probably aren’t going to be found in the crowd surrounding the throne of God singing His praises. But that’s taking us a bit of-course from the topic of the Gospel preached isn’t it?

[10/25/20]

Or is it? The Gospel is indeed the most incredibly good news one could hope to hear. God has not chosen to deal with you as have deserved, but rather, in accordance with His good name, has had mercy on one upon whom He chooses to show mercy. But this has a certain assumption in it: that you are one He has called, that you are numbered among the elect. What of the one who has not in fact been called and is not one upon whom God has chosen to show mercy? He, too, hears the Gospel. He may even grasp somewhat of its significance. He is not entirely without understanding, without intellect. But his thinking remains worldly, and he is unable to truly assess spiritual things. For such a one, the preaching of the Gospel is, in fact, condemnation. It is very hard for us to think of good news in this way. How is it good, if he stands condemned by it?

This is a reaction we hear to God’s Providence rather regularly. When disaster strikes, worldly man cannot construe how this could possibly be the work of a good God. If that’s the way He is, they conclude, I want nothing to do with Him. Well yes. That was rather the point, wasn’t it? They have refused to acknowledge God as God, and God, in His Just Goodness, refuses to acknowledge them. He has, in effect, granted them their desire, much though they will rue that granting unto all eternity. But the punishments come as discipline for God’s elect, and as vengeance upon God’s enemies, and both of these are in fact Good.

It seems whenever I come to this aspect of faith, I am reminded of Aaron and his sons. They, by their actions, stuck a thumb in God’s eye, and declared that they would do things their way, and He could just learn to like it. He didn’t. Their profanity seems such a little thing doesn’t it? They merely offered incense at the wrong time, after all. It’s not like they were urging Baal-worship on the people or something. Yet it earned their death. They had effectively declared themselves independent from God Whom they were supposed to serve, and He in turn granted them independence. You’re not Mine? Fine. Away with you. But the striking thing is the instruction delivered to Aaron and his surviving sons in regard to this. “Do not uncover your heads nor tear your clothes, so that you may not die, and that He may not become wrathful against all the congregation. But your kinsmen, the whole house of Israel, shall bewail the burning which the LORD has brought about. You shall not even go out from the doorway of the tent of meeting, lest you die; for the LORD’s anointing oil is upon you” (Lev 10:6-7).

Okay, so observe: The death does not go unmourned. It is not for God’s people to become callous towards death, even the death of the unbeliever, and it certainly not for them to celebrate the death of their fellow man. But neither is it for the man of God to mourn God’s Justice. The death of Nadab and Abihu had come about in the upholding of God’s glory – by God Himself. No man had taken their lives from them. God really doesn’t need man’s help for that, although He may often use men as His instruments of vengeance. Vengeance remains His, and where His vengeance is exercised, it is to His glory, it is Good. The message to be taken from this event is that God is holy. He is not to be taken lightly. His worship is not a matter of our preferences and interests, but His holiness and His determination. Yet even in so just a case, the death of man remains a matter for sorrow and mourning. It remains the final temporal outworking of sin, and surely sin is to be mourned for its defacing, debilitating impact on one who was, after all, made to be God’s image bearer. But mourn with understanding. Mourn with recognition that God’s glory, in the end, is far and away more important, more good, more necessary, than even the sum of all human life. His glory is to be upheld – will be upheld – whatever the cost. This is not vanity. This is majesty. This is the prerogative and the proper appreciation of God’s Sovereignty, and also of His mercy towards those upon whom He has chosen to show mercy. We look with hearts that understand that, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.” That I have not gone there is cause to give praise to the glorious grace of God.

I want to come back to this preaching of the Gospel, though. It is a matter of teaching, even of what we may call didactic teaching. What are we to teach? As we saw: “Teach them to obey.” Obey all that I have commanded. And what has He commanded? “Love God. Love your neighbor. Consider others as more important than yourself. Pray for those who treat you unjustly. Seek that the lost may become the found. Go make disciples.” I could go on, but that gets the bulk of it. No, wait. I’ll add one more, lest we begin to think we have an achievable agenda. “Be perfect as your Father is perfect.” Our need has not ceased. We must teach from a place of utmost humility, recognizing still the utter impossibility of even our best students complying in their own power.

We must understand that it is not enough to hear the Gospel, nor even to know ourselves possessed of the Gospel. It remains needful that we obey the Gospel. The Gospel is Law, which is not something you will generally hear said. But if there is a thing that needs obeying, it is a law. And Paul writes to the Thessalonians about God’s retribution upon their afflicters. “We speak proudly of you among the churches of God for your perseverance and faith in the midst of your persecutions and afflictions which you endure. This is a plain indication of God’s righteous judgment so that you may be considered worthy of the kingdom of God, for which indeed you are suffering. For after all it is only just for God to repay with affliction those who afflict you, and to give relief to you who are afflicted and to us as well when the Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven with His mighty angels in flaming fire, dealing out retribution to those who do not know God and to those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus” (2Th 1:4-8). Did you catch that last? God’s retribution shall come upon those who do not obey the gospel.

[10/26/20]

It strikes me that if our preaching of the Gospel stops with the marvelous good news of salvation, and does not insist upon lives of demonstrable obedience to the demands of the Gospel, we have done our hearers a worse disservice than if we had simply left them in the darkness of their ignorance, for we have made them more ignorant still. It is well that we make abundantly clear the impossibility of compliance by main strength and will. It is well that we make abundantly clear the glorious generosity of God in that He Himself comes in and brings us to a place where obedience is possible. It is well that we make abundantly clear that this obedience, so far as this present life goes, is imperfect as our flesh remains imperfect. We are engaged in a war for our own soul, if you please, but not a war in which we are a general, or anything much beyond a foot-soldier. Our victory is assured, but not by our deeds. Our victory is assured by God.

But none of this alleviates our duty, our responsibility, our culpability. I remind again: God’s retribution shall come upon those who do not obey the gospel. This is not possession thereof. It is obedience to the demands thereof. It is the foot-soldier heeding his general, going where he is sent, standing where he is positioned, engaging in the battle as commanded, and likewise, disengaging when commanded. It is the foot-soldier declaring, “My life is not my own.” Paul often uses military imagery in describing the life of the Church, the life of the one possessed of the Gospel who is therefore a preacher of the Gospel. Granted, this is at least in part due to the common presence of Roman military personnel. They were pretty much a part of the landscape. Everybody knew them. Everybody knew their ways, both the good and the bad. They were a ready illustration guaranteed to be understood by all. But it’s more than just convenience and commonality. It’s a shared condition. We, too, answer a sovereign. We, too, are enlisted in His legions.

Table Talk, this morning, as it considers the text of Revelation, seeks to give some sense to the numbering of those marked out for preservation at 144,000. The first aspect, the twelve by twelve, they lay out to simply a shorthand way of indicating the whole number of God’s people. It is not twelve from each of the twelve tribes, or some specific matter such as that, but twelve has been used as the number of God’s people, and twelve squared emphasizes the totality. Then, there is that multiplication by thousands, and this, the author notes, was the number of men in a military unit. I want to inject Roman military unit, but that would not appear to be the reference point here. A Roman legion would have been nearer 5000, and a cohort somewhere around 480. It varies, though, by period and likely by other things as well. But if we go back to the arraying of Israel for battle, we have commanders of a thousand. Saul appointed David as one such (1Sa 18:13), and somewhat earlier in David’s career, we see him bringing cheese from his father to the commander of the thousand in which his brothers served (1Sa 17:18). My point is this: We are in service, in a war. But our warfare is not against flesh and blood, rather against spiritual powers. Our warfare is, in a very real sense, with our own sinful flesh which, though our souls have been redeemed, yet continues on in its former condition.

If we are to know victory, we must obey. If we belong to God, we must obey. If we love Him, we will obey. Again, as I noted early, it’s not a command here, but a statement of fact. We will. If we do not, then we remain numbered amongst those who do not obey the gospel. We have heard it, and we have made some claim of accepting it and belonging to Christ, but the truth is not in us. By our fruits we will be known, and if our fruits are of disobedience, then it must be that our seed is of the devil.

So I conclude that the Gospel, while great good news to all who believe, is the voice of doom to those who do not. I am not alone in this conclusion, which is comforting. “For we are a fragrance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing; to the one an aroma from death to death, to the other an aroma of life to life. And who is adequate for these things? For we are not like many, peddling the word of God, but from sincerity, but as from God, we speak in Christ in the sight of God” (2Co 2:15-17). Do you hear it? We cannot try to pad the message of the Gospel and make it more palatable to an unbelieving generation. We cannot water down the Word in hopes of bigger numbers and better profits. Profits, as they are measured in monetary value, don’t even enter into it. We’re not here to peddle a message or earn a living. We’re here to speak life to those who will receive it. We’re here to speak that same life-giving message to those who will reject it. It may – it should pain us that they refuse the salvation that is held out to them. But, like Aaron, we are priests of our Lord, and must not mourn that His glory is made manifest, even when it is made manifest in judgment. God’s good name is upheld, and for this, we must be glad who love Him and account Him all. The Gospel demands no less.

The Gospel requires that we preach the Word. It does not require that we multiply according to our preferences. We sow, God waters. The soil may or may not prove fertile, but the fault is assuredly not with the seed. Neither, so long as we sow, is the problem with the sower. The Gospel, God’s own Word, is powerful to save. It does not go forth without accomplishing all His good purpose. It is true of Jesus. It is true of the Scriptures Jesus caused to be written that we might have a sure and certain record of His ministry, His deity, and His will for His people, His Church, His bride. Our part is to hold fast to Him in holding fast to His Word, letting it not depart from our thoughts and our hearts, suffering it not to be altered or abused by those who would reshape the Church in their own image, (and that includes our own tendencies to render faith an idol). It calls us to obedience the law of Christ, the law of Love, for God is Love and sums up His instruction for mankind in the twofold commandment to love God above all things, and love others as ourselves. The Good News? He is working in us to bring us into compliance with that law. Because of Him, we love Him – not yet in the fulness we ought, but more truly every day. Because of Him, we love our fellow believers – not yet entirely as we ought, but better every day. Because of Him, we love even the unbeliever, and pray that he may not always be so, but may be found amongst the number of God’s elect, and we seek with such as is in our power to do that we might show them Christ and be the feet that bring this good news into their lives as it was brought into ours.