Cultivate a Godly Appetite

By Colin Smith

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied” (Matt. 5:6).

The mark of a true Christian is not that he feels righteous, but that he longs to be more righteous than he is. When it comes to righteousness, the blessed people are not those who think they have it, but those who feel their need of it. It is not the realization of the desire, but the desire itself that Christ pronounces blessed.

How can you develop more of this desire for righteousness?

Five Strategies for Cultivating a Godly Appetite

1. Gain momentum from the first three beatitudes.

Blessed are the poor in spirit… Blessed are those who mourn… Blessed are the meek… blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness… (Matt. 5:2-6).

The Beatitudes are progressive. Each beatitude assumes the ones that have gone before. You can’t just hunger and thirst for righteousness, you have to start from the beginning. You can picture them like rings that are reached by the momentum you gain from swinging on the previous ones. If you become poor in spirit, mourn your sins, and submit your life to the will of God, you will find that a true hunger for righteousness springs from these roots.

2. Practice fasting from legitimate pleasures.

If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me (Mk. 8:34).

One sure way to spoil your appetite is to snack between meals. Let’s apply that obvious principle from the world of the body to the world of the soul: Legitimate pleasures at the wrong time and in the wrong amount will spoil your appetite for holiness. They can make you dull and sluggish in following after Christ, spoiling your hunger and thirst to be all that you can be for God.

How do we keep the legitimate pleasures of life—like sports and travel and hobbies—in their proper place? One answer is to periodically fast from legitimate pleasures. Fasting is a means of heightening self-control—a special gift that can help you master something that otherwise might master you.

Suppose you see that legitimate pleasures have become your default pattern, holding you back from a more useful life. Take a month without TV or computer games, or without golf, or six months without buying new clothes, or without leisure travel. Drop a sport for a semester. You’ll be surprised at the freedom it brings to you.

Fasting has the effect of cleansing out the body, and the same thing can happen in your soul by choosing to deny yourself a legitimate pleasure for a season. This is a great way to bring appetites that have become inordinate back under control.

3. Make yourself vulnerable to the needs of others.

Train yourself for godliness (1 Tim. 4:7).

How do you work up a good appetite? By getting some good exercise. Go for a brisk walk or a run, and when you come back, you find yourself ready for a good meal. This is true when it comes to nourishing your soul. Extend yourself in serving others, and especially when you are serving others in great need, you will find that your hunger and thirst for righteousness will increase.

Think about this in relation to our Lord. How did the Righteous One practice this fourth beatitude? Since He has all righteousness in Himself, how could Jesus hunger and thirst for what He already had? The answer lies in the incarnation. Jesus left the comforts of heaven and came into our world where righteousness had been lost. He humbled Himself and became a servant. He saw that the people were like sheep without a shepherd, and His own heart was moved with compassion.

Simply seeing yourself as a Christian who needs to receive all the time will make you spiritually dull. But serving others will stimulate your spiritual appetite.

4. Use your blessings and troubles as incentives to feed on Christ.

I am the bread of life… If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever (Jn. 6:48, 51).

Thomas Watson, the pithy Puritan whose writing I have found so helpful, asked the question: How can we stimulate a spiritual appetite? His answer was two-fold: Exercise and “sauce”! [1] Watson was right. What makes food more attractive? Sauce! God increases our hunger and thirst for righteousness by the “sweet sauce” of our blessings, the “sharp sauce” of our troubles, and the “hot sauce” of our persecutions.

When blessings come, learn to say, “God is so good, I want to know more of Him.” When trouble or persecution comes, learn to say, “My flesh and my heart may fail but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (Ps. 73:26).

5. Trust Christ especially for your sanctification.

Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely… He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it (1 Thess. 5:23-24).

Some Christians feel they can trust Christ to forgive their sins and to get them into heaven, but when it comes to becoming a more loving and more effective Christian—one who is more like Jesus Christ—they feel completely hopeless. They trust Christ for their justification and their glorification, but they do not trust Christ for their sanctification.

Remember that Christ didn’t come just for the guilt of your sins or the consequence of your sins. He came to save you from your sins (Matt. 1:21) and to deliver you from all that holds you back from a better life.

Why is it so difficult for you to trust him to help you change by cultivating a new hunger and thirst for righteousness?

Hope is the key to all change.

Somewhere deep inside, you may believe that you will always be the same, that you can never be different. Without hope, change never happens.

Let me shine the light of hope into your discouraged heart. Why are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness blessed? Because they will be satisfied. When you see Christ, you will be like Him (1 Jn. 3:2). You’ve trusted Christ for this. Think what it will mean for you to be like Christ! Think of His wisdom, compassion, patience, kindness, righteousness, and strength.

If you can trust Christ to complete His redeeming work in you then, why should you not trust Him to advance his redeeming work in you now? If you can trust Him to make you completely like Christ on the last day, why should you not trust Him to make you more like Christ on earth?

Trust Christ for your sanctification today. Change begins when you say, “There is hope for me to be a better person, to live a better life in Jesus Christ.” Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for God and for righteousness. They will not be disappointed.

_____

This article is adapted from Pastor Colin’s sermon, “Cultivating a Godly Appetite”, from his series Momentum, Volume 1.

1. Thomas Watson, The Beatitudes: An Exposition of Matthew 5:1-12 (Smith: 1660).

Posted at: https://unlockingthebible.org/2020/11/cultivate-godly-appetite/

Do You Feel Loved by God?

By Colin Smith

Several years ago, I heard about a professor at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School who posed this question to her class: Do you believe that God loves you?

Out of these 120 Christian students preparing for ministry, how many do you think said, “Yes?” Two! The rest gave answers like this:

“I know I’m supposed to say, ‘Yes.’”

“I know the Bible says He loves me, but I don’t feel it.”

“I’m not sure I can really say I believe it.”

How can this be? 

Surely every Christian knows the love of God. Did we not learn this in Sunday school? “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”

Jonathan Edwards used a simple analogy to get to the heart of this:

There is a difference between having a rational judgment that honey is sweet, and having a sense of its sweetness. [1]

You can know honey is sweet because someone tells you, but you don’t really know its sweetness until you’ve tasted it. You can know God loves you because your Sunday school teacher told you, but you don’t really know God’s love until you’ve tasted His love.

Many Christians live at a great distance from this felt experience of the love of God. So much Christianity in the West is shallow and satisfied. It affirms a creed but it so often lacks spiritual life.

Across the country there are millions of people who have a faith, who’ve been brought up to believe Jesus died and rose, they’ve gone to church, but they have no living experience of God’s love.

We need this prayer:

May the Lord direct your hearts into God’s love and Christ’s perseverance (2 Thess. 3:5, NIV).

This is Paul’s prayer for the church. It’s a prayer that God will do something in us who believe but do not always feel that God loves us. He’s speaking to Christians going through great difficulties, and he says, “My prayer for you is that God will direct your hearts into the love of Christ.”

That means it’s possible to endure persecution and not to feel the love of Christ. It’s possible to go through seminary and not to feel the love of Christ. It’s possible to worship in the seats of an evangelical church for 20 years and to not feel the love of Christ.

I don’t want to be there! And neither do you. People who are not Christians endure great pain and carry great sorrows. They do it by gritting their teeth. They do it in Britain with a stiff upper lip.

Paul is saying to these believers, “I want something better for you. I want your soul to be filled with the love of God.”

Three Ways to Experience More of God’s Love and Christ’s Patience

1. Become dissatisfied with your present spiritual experience.

Cultivate a holy discontent. The person who prays the prayer of 2 Thessalonians 3:5 is looking for something more than he or she already has: “Lord, direct my heart into Your love.”

We live in a “been there, done that” culture, and the great danger is in developing a “been there, done that” form of Christianity: “I know God loves me, that Jesus died for me, and that my sins are forgiven. So, what’s next?” Then one day someone says, “Do you really believe that God loves you?” And your shallowness is exposed.

A.W. Tozer says:

We have been snared in the coils of a spurious logic which insists that if we have found him, we need no more seek him… In the midst of this great chill there are some who will not be content with shallow logic. They want to taste, to touch with their hearts the wonder that is God. I want deliberately to encourage this mighty longing after God. [2]

Don’t settle for a faith in which you cannot feel the love of God and the patience of Christ.

2. Ask God to direct your heart into His love.

2 Thessalonians 3:5 is a prayer, so use it. Make it your own. The Scriptures tell us what we should pray for.

Yet, some of you carry a lot of baggage on this. Whenever you think about God, your first instinct, though you believe, is to picture Him with a frown on his face. You feel that He is angry with you and that He is condemning you. You need this prayer.

Listen to this wise counsel from John Owen:

So long as the Father is seen as harsh, judging and condemning, the soul is filled with fear and dread every time it comes to Him… But when God… is seen as a Father, filled with love, the soul is filled with love to God in return… If your heart is taken up with the Father’s love… it cannot help but choose to be overpowered, conquered and embraced by him. [3]

Some of you think God is cold and aloof and harsh and demanding, and these thoughts are deeply rooted in your mind.  Ask God to direct your heart into His love, and go on asking until—like snow melting in the warmth of the sun—your heart begins to thaw in the warmth of the love of God.

3. Gaze into the love of God in Jesus Christ.

Have you ever noticed that people who don’t like each other will merely glance at one another? People who like each other will look at one another. People who are desperately in love will gaze at each other.

As the Psalmist says, “One thing I ask of the Lord, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek Him in His temple” (Ps. 27:4). Survey, gaze, ponder, and meditate on the love of God and the patience of Christ.

What is Your Response?

How would you describe your current experience of God’s love and Christ’s patience?

Perhaps 2 Thessalonians 3:5 awakens something in you—deep calls to deep. Maybe you’re thinking, “I want more of what Paul’s talking about.” For you, this Scripture sounds like a church bell drawing you in, calling you to seek after God.

If this is you, settle it today, in your heart and mind, that you will pursue a sweeter taste, a deeper experience, a clearer glimpse of the love of God and the patience of Christ. Go after it. And don’t ever stop.

Or, maybe you are thinking that Paul’s prayer is not so much like the sound of a church bell drawing you in as the sound of an alarm clock waking you up.

If you are not awake to the love of God, shouldn’t you be concerned about the condition of your soul? I hope you’ll ask, “What is wrong with me? I have no interest in the love of God. Why am I so satisfied, when others are hungry and thirsty for God?” I pray you’d ask these questions.

Perhaps God will use this to rouse you from the deadness of spirit in which you have been sleeping for far too long.

_____

1. Jonathan Edwards, “A Divine and Supernatural Light” (sermon delivered in 1734), http://www.monergism.com/thethreshold/articles/onsite/edwards_light.html.

2. A. W. Tozer, “The Pursuit of God” (Christian Publications, 1982), 16-17.

3. John Owen, “Communion with God”(Banner of Truth, 1991), 18, 32.

Posted at: https://unlockingthebible.org/2020/12/do-you-feel-loved-by-god/

The Surprising Ministry of Encouragement

Article by Ray Ortlund

Encourage one another. (1 Thessalonians 5:11)

Does encouragement seem to you a good, but small, thing?

To me, it’s huge. I want to explain why I think this way, and I’d like to persuade you to join me. I have never met anyone suffering from too much encouragement in Christ. Have you?

I think about the ministry of encouragement a lot, but not as much as I should. My friend Murray Harris, the New Testament scholar, said to me once, “Encouragement is one of the most important ministries in the church of the New Testament.” Our biblical authenticity is at stake here — whether we are overflowingly encouraging to one another.

Encouragement is what the gospel feels like as it moves from one believer to another. The ministry of encouragement, therefore, isn’t optional or just for people with a knack for it. Real encouragement has authority over us all. It deserves nothing less than to set the predominant tone of our churches, our homes, our ministries. So, let’s think it through. And then, let’s get after it.

What Is Encouragement?

The New Testament verb translated encourage can also mean “to comfort, cheer up, console, speak in a friendly manner.” Throughout, encouragement is about the life-giving power of our shared beliefs and our shared life in the Lord.

Jesus used the noun form of this verb when, in John 14:26, he called the Holy Spirit our “Helper” — that is, our encourager as an “empowering presence” among us (John, 260). J.B. Phillips paraphrased this title of the Holy Spirit as “someone to stand by you.”

“I have never met anyone suffering from too much encouragement in Christ.”

So, we’re already seeing what our ministry of encouragement can look like: standing with one another, bringing a life-giving presence to one another. That’s a lot more than saying hi as we walk from the parking lot into the church building on a Sunday morning. Real encouragement is one way we experience the Holy Spirit together. It’s how we experience real community together. And this kind of community is not life-depleting but life-enriching, not guarded and aloof but all-in and involved, not scrutinizing and criticizing but affirming and strengthening.

Learning to One Another

The “one another” commands of the New Testament paint a picture of the beauty of human relationships. These one anothers include not only “encourage one another” but also “love one another” (John 13:34–35), “welcome one another” (Romans 15:7), “confess your sins to one another” (James 5:16), and more. It’s a total way of enjoying Christ together. Who wouldn’t love to jump in? At the same time, have we noticed the “one anothers” that do not appear in Scripture but sometimes appear among us? For example, “scold one another,” “humble one another,” “pressure one another,” for starters.

Why don’t we all back up and relearn how to live together in Christ? And is there a better starting place than “encourage one another”? The New Testament puts encouragement at the very foundation of real Christianity: “So if there is any encouragement in Christ . . .” (Philippians 2:1).

But stepping out into new relational patterns is risky — with risks worth taking! The ministry of encouragement frees us from safe neutrality, from keeping our cards close to our chest, from evaluating one another with cost-benefit calculations. Real encouragement sweeps us away into a glad-hearted, up-close engaging with one another. And when the encouragement we’re sharing back and forth gets so strong that it starts feeling awkward, then good! We’re finally getting somewhere.

Does Encouragement Matter?

As I said earlier, I’ve never met anyone who is overly encouraged in Christ. But sometimes I do see people — I’ve done this too! — hyped up with odd emphases and misguided priorities, even in “Christian” ways. The Bible warns us all, “Have nothing to do with foolish, ignorant controversies; you know that they breed quarrels” (2 Timothy 2:23). But the ministry of encouragement comes with no warning label. We have not taken it too far. The Bible does not say, “Encourage one another — but be careful!”

When we aren’t actively cultivating a social environment of encouragement, what happens then? We start living on a relational starvation diet. What we experience then is not active injury but the lack of affirmation and good cheer we all need. We struggle on, but weakened. Maybe a less-than-energizing kind of Christianity feels normal to many of us. Maybe we can hardly imagine how wonderful it is to be frequently, strongly encouraged and encouraging.

I believe we Bible-believing, good-hearted, doctrinally serious Christians need to go back down to the very foundations. We need to rethink our total life together. We need to rebuild on the gospel itself.

Doctrine Without Culture

How does the gospel change us? At two levels. One, we start believing the truth of gospel doctrine. Two, we start experiencing the beauty of gospel culture. And that second change is not frosting on the cake. Gospel doctrine must never be allowed to hang in midair as a naked abstraction. Gospel doctrine creates gospel culture. Relationships of encouragement, among other precious spiritual realities, are what the doctrines are for.

“Encouragement is what the gospel feels like as it moves from one believer to another.”

But if we preach the doctrine while neglecting the culture, we end up — well, the way some of us are now: orthodox and exhausted. Whatever swept over the Roman Empire in those early centuries, it wasn’t that. What captivated the ancient world was a new kind of community. Those disadvantaged but confident Christians knew what they believed, and they knew the beauty their beliefs created, and the Roman world looked on with astonishment. Tertullian (ca. 160–220) reported what people were saying about Christians: “How they love one another! How they are ready to die for one another!”

Is anyone saying that about us today?

What Encouragement Is Not

Have we modern Christians settled for strong doctrine with an overlay of vague, predictable, blah niceness?

The one thing gospel encouragement isn’t is average, mediocre, ignorable. The ministry of encouragement is surprising, captivating, energizing. It does require effort and intentionality, but it also leaves us feeling exhilarated and uplifted. Is that how we walk out of our churches on a typical Sunday: exhilarated and uplifted?

When the ministry of encouragement is allowed its actual authority, and it takes over and sets the tone in a community, that is how people do walk out of church. They leave thinking, “Man alive, I needed that! It makes me want to live for Christ this week! And I can’t wait for next Sunday!” And the word for that is revival.

Practical Encouragement

So, how can we grow in encouraging one another?

One, let’s continually marinate together in the truths of the Bible, “that through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope” (Romans 15:4). The Bible is the most encouraging book in all the world. We’d be crazy not to capitalize on that! In our churches and small groups and homes, let’s memorize the Bible, sing the Bible, pray the Bible, enjoy the Bible, and be encouraged together by all that Christ is for us, according to Scripture.

Two, let’s pool together our personal faith, sharing our stories of how Jesus is getting us through real life in this world, “that we may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith, both yours and mine” (Romans 1:12). Every believer has a story to tell — not only how Jesus converted us in the past, but how Jesus is real to us right now. And the apostle Paul considered your faith as encouraging as his own: “both yours and mine.”

The pressures of our post-everything world are bearing down on us. But let’s not freak out. We have a more powerful way to face life today until the end comes: “Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near” (Hebrews 10:24–25).

Ray Ortlund (@rayortlund) is president of Renewal Ministries and a council member of The Gospel Coalition. He founded Immanuel Church in Nashville, Tennessee, and now serves from Immanuel as Pastor to Pastors.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/the-surprising-ministry-of-encouragement

On Building Convictions and Wearing Masks

By: Andy Farmer

This time last year, I could have imagined I might write a blog on building Christian convictions. But I could not imagine it would have been about wearing masks. Yet here we are facing contention in our communities, families, and churches on the issue of wearing masks during the current pandemic. I have had my share of conversations with folks who believe masks are essential to saving lives in a pandemic. Others are equally convinced that masks are at best an unfounded government overreach and possibly part of a larger plan to abridge personal freedoms. I’ve been sent mountains of information and study data (from both positions) that have, frankly, left me more bewildered than anything else.

Often the issue of personal convictions comes up in the current conversations about wearing masks. As in, “I have a personal conviction that I should not go anywhere if I can’t be sure people are wearing masks.” Or, “I have a personal conviction against wearing masks unless there are legitimate health issues at stake.” I can certainly respect people operating out of conviction. But it has raised questions for me.

• What is a personal conviction?

• When do I need one?

• How do I get one if I need it?

• How do I build a conviction in response to a particular circumstance?

Without diverting into a philosophical rumination, let me briefly answer the first three questions because they’re generically related. Personal convictions are beliefs that are held strongly enough by an individual that they are committed to having their lives governed by them. They are committed to being known for them, and to varying degrees, are willing to act on them even at personal cost. A conviction isn’t a preference or a tendency. It is something clearly believed and strongly held in an ongoing way.

Essential Convictions and Personal Convictions

As Christians, we must have certain convictions borne out of our belief in Jesus Christ as Savior of the World. These convictions are best derived from the great creeds of the Church and the Statements of Faith to which we ascribe in our churches and denominations. Orthodox Christianity is well attested. We can have great confidence in our faith convictions when we ascribe to the primary historic doctrines related to the nature of God, the state of humanity in creation and fallenness, the authority and sufficiency of Scripture, and the person and work of Christ.

Personal convictions are of a different sort. They are not creeds or fixed rules or laws that define our standing with God. Nevertheless, they are an important part of the Christian faith. Christians draw the idea of personal convictions from the command language of the Bible, in particular the “grace commands” of the New Testament. Knowing that Jesus Christ has fulfilled the law on my behalf, I am now free to live for Christ in joyful obedience to His commands. That is how I love Him (John 14:15).

We talk about the “indicatives and imperatives” pattern in the New Testament letters. The apostle Paul, in particular, structures his letters to churches with a strong doctrinal basis for confidence in our salvation (the indicatives) and follows that up with “if this is true, therefore here is how you should live”—the implications of life in Christ expressed in command language (the imperatives). The forming mechanism for Christian personal convictions is our application of the New Testament imperatives to life situations based on our indicative position in Christ.

Convictions overlap with wisdom and Christian freedom of conscience. We should be able to show from the Bible where we develop our convictions. But just because we derive convictions for ourselves from Scripture doesn’t mean we can impose them on others. In many cases, Christians may come to different personal convictions because of the biblical principles they are applying and how they weigh out various applicable biblical texts. In any case, the rule of faith should keep us from elevating our convictions to universal moral law. And the rule of love should keep us from imposing our convictions self-righteously on others.

Not all convictions are created equal. We often have to develop convictions in response to what life brings our way. I had no convictions on wearing masks prior to 2020. I hope at some point in the not-too-distant future, I’ll be able to retire this conviction, or at least only have to apply it in limited circumstances. But I’ve recognized the need for a conviction on masks so that my behavior is not being shaped by cultural pressure or personal feelings. I need a conviction on masks so I can approach mask-situations with a clear head, a humble heart, and a focus on serving others, not defending or protecting myself.

Building a Conviction

This gets us to the fourth question. How do I build a circumstantial conviction? Here are some guiding principles I’ve tried to apply to my mask conviction, and really what I want to apply to anything I hold as a personal conviction.

• Seek to understand the circumstances in a balanced way, as much as possible. We want thoughtfully considered convictions, not knee-jerk reactions we need to defend. Defensiveness can be used to cover the fact that we haven’t considered an issue in its complexity and depth. If I’ve considered an issue thoroughly, I should be confident but not defensive if someone disagrees with me.

• Consider the whole counsel of God. Don’t cherry-pick verses out of context to support what you think. Wrestling with the Bible is essential in developing personal convictions. In the example of masks, I have been strongly influenced by Romans 14, relating to how the strong must consider the weak. But I can’t build from this alone. After all, who says I’m the strong one in this issue? Maybe time will prove that others were more right than me, and in fact, I was the weak one who needed bearing with.

• Commit to humility and charity in the way you articulate and apply your conviction. The fact that we need personal convictions in the first place assumes there isn’t universal clarity on an issue. In 1 Corinthians 13, Paul counsels us that we can be entirely right on a given issue but utterly wrong on what God values.

• Build out from principle to practice. A practice without a principle is a rule. A principle without a practice is a theory. I need to apply my personal conviction on masks without other people having to accommodate me. In fact, graciously held personal convictions will position me to interact with others in a posture of servanthood, not personal rights.

• Keep convictions proportional. Something may be very important to me, but not to someone else. We don’t need to fight over masks. We live in a time where the fewer needless arguments we have (in person or on social media), the better off we will be.

So what is my personal conviction on masks? That’s another conversation entirely. My question is, what is your conviction? And how have you gotten there?

Question for Reflection

1. What passages of Scripture have shaped your personal conviction on mask-wearing during the COVID-19 pandemic?

2. Are you humbly and charitably applying and articulating your conviction, or is being right more important to you than loving your neighbor?

Posted at: https://www.biblicalcounselingcoalition.org/2020/12/07/on-building-convictions-and-wearing-masks/

Plan to Be Interrupted

Article by Scott Hubbard

At one time, I thought the best test for our faith in the sovereignty of God was our fidelity to the five points of Calvinism. But lately I’ve wondered if a different test might be more appropriate: how we respond to the interruptions, inefficiencies, and unforeseen delays strewn throughout our days.

Many of us cheer at the high sovereignty celebrated by Charles Spurgeon:

I believe that every particle of dust that dances in the sunbeam does not move an atom more or less than God wishes — that every particle of spray that dashes against the steamboat has its orbit, as well as the sun in the heavens — that the chaff from the hand of the winnower is steered as the stars in their courses. (“God’s Providence”)

Yet where do our cheers go (or my cheers, at any rate) when God, in his providence, arranges the particles in his universe against our plans for the day? When our computer mutinies, or our toddler summons the attention of the entire grocery store, or our coworker knocks in the midst of our brilliant productivity? Too often, my internal response amounts to the following: “The dust motes may be subject to God’s rule, but this must have slipped past his sovereignty.”

But the God who is sovereign over our salvation is sovereign also over our schedules, including all the interruptions.

Faith, Not Efficiency

We cannot say that God has left us unprepared for such interruptions. Scripture’s story of redemption does not give the impression that efficiency is one of God’s chief values. If it were, the Bible’s plotline would be much straighter (and much less interesting). Over and again, God hands his people some important piece of work to do — work we might imagine is simply too important to be delayed — and then he bids his people to trust him through interruption.

“We want to move through our tasks without interruption; he wants us to trust him in every interruption.”

He tells Nehemiah to build the wall around Jerusalem, and then he allows a host of enemies to halt the work for a time (Nehemiah 4:7–14). He calls Jeremiah to prophesy in Judah, and then ordains that he should be tossed into a cistern (Jeremiah 38:1–6). He commissions Paul to preach the gospel to the Gentiles, and then lands him in a prison cell (Philippians 1:12–13). Time would fail to tell of Joseph’s wait in Egypt, of David’s flights from Saul, and of the multitudes who intercepted Jesus as he was heading somewhere else.

What do we make of such sovereign delays? Apparently, as Jon Bloom writes, “God is not nearly as interested in our efficiency as he is in our faith.” Regularly, even if subconsciously, we walk into our days with efficiency as our agenda: fold the laundry and write the paper and cook the meal and prepare the Bible study and get to bed with no task unchecked. Yet often, God’s agenda for us is not efficiency, but faith — for “without faith it is impossible to please him” (Hebrews 11:6).

We want to move through our tasks without interruption; he wants us to trust him in every interruption. And so, he will regularly, even daily, disrupt our plans.

Counterfeit Interruptions

So faith, not efficiency, is God’s main agenda for us each day. As we consider how we might prepare for the daily interruptions he sends our way, we would do well to keep one clarification in mind: we should not receive every interruption as a holy interruption — as a God-sent, sanctifying inefficiency. Not every interruption is created equal.

For many of us today, interruption is the air we breathe. We can scarcely go fifteen minutes without our phone buzzing, our email binging, our calendar reminding, our news app updating, our social media flagging. We have grown accustomed to a mind fragmented by technology. Indeed, many of us have grown more than accustomed — we enjoy the quarter-hour (or more) dopamine hit that our smartphones provide. If separated from our screens for an afternoon, we might fidget like someone in withdrawal.

Interruptions such as these rarely sanctify. In fact, they regularly do the opposite. Instead of propelling us into the lives of the neighbors around us at that moment (Matthew 22:39), they lure us to give our best attention elsewhere. Instead of slowing us down to listen (James 1:19), they train us in the sorry arts of swiping, skimming, and “multitasking.” Instead of inviting us to cast our burdens on God (1 Peter 5:6–7), they regularly feed low-level anxiety. Yet too often, I resent the interruption from my neighbor next door, yet relish the one from my news feed.

By all means, bolt the door against such interruptions. Turn off notifications for stretches of the day. Decide how often you’ll check your email. When you go to sleep (or better, well before you do), put your phone to sleep as well. Whatever it takes, cultivate the kind of calm and focused mind that is ready to receive real interruptions.

Enough Margin for Love

Beyond ridding ourselves of counterfeit interruptions, we might consider another practical step toward welcoming the interruptions God sends: leave enough margin in your schedule for love. Margin is the blank space on our calendars and our to-do lists — the empty, unplanned parts of the day that are available for the unexpected.

Perhaps interruptions frustrate some of us because we simply have no margin. I sometimes pack one appointment or task on top of another, leaving me to run between responsibilities with little room to breathe in between — and no room for interruptions. Such planning (at least for most of us, most of the time) reflects an almost laughable amount of hubris, as if I expect the minutes to march on according to my good pleasure.

“Those who trust deeply in the sovereignty of God learn to leave enough margin in their days for sovereign interruptions.”

Consider how Jesus lived. For as full as his schedule was, he was never so booked that he could not linger for a few minutes on the way. Have you ever noticed just how often he is interrupted? How regularly a disciple or stranger interjects (Luke 12:13)? How commonly someone on the roadside cries for help (Mark 10:46–48)? How frequently even his meals were invaded by the needs of a neighbor (Luke 7:36–38)? And have you ever noticed how Jesus was never flustered or rushed?

When the Son of God walked among us, he was perfect in patience. And not only because he was the Son of God, but also because he had the healthy, sane realism to expect interruptions and to leave enough room in his life to love his neighbor. How many times have we become irritated at interruptions because, unlike Jesus, we had no space in our schedule for them? In that case, repentance means more than pleading with God for patience; it also means planning more space in our schedules.

Those who trust deeply in the sovereignty of God learn to leave enough margin in their days for sovereign interruptions. Because faith not only relies on God when the interruptions come; it also plans for interruptions before they come. It leaves pockets of the day and week blank, and over the rest it writes, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that” (James 4:15).

Far Better Plans

Even still, a focused mind and a schedule with margin will not prepare us for every interruption. Many interruptions will come our way that feel inconvenient and unwelcome. And in such moments, we do well to step back, catch our breath, pray, and remember all the good that God sends through interruptions.

Think big for a moment. Where would we be if God hadn’t interrupted Abraham in Haran, Moses in Midian, David among the sheepfolds, Mary in her betrothed innocence, Peter in his fishing boat, Paul on the road to Damascus? And where would you be if he hadn’t interrupted your life — if Jesus hadn’t invaded your comfortable rebellion and beckoned you to repent and believe?

Once God turns our lives upside down, he doesn’t stop using interruptions (large or small) for our good. Through them, he chastens our pride, slows our pace, opens our eyes, bends us toward dependence, and teaches us to trust. He reminds us that he is not after our maximum efficiency, but instead our maximum conformity to Christ, who was never too busy, too preoccupied, or too impatient to be interrupted.

If we know all that God does through interruptions, we may do more than avoid them: after we’ve planned the best we can, we may even pray that he would be pleased to interrupt us with his better, perfect plans.

Scott Hubbard is a graduate of Bethlehem College & Seminary and an editor for desiringGod.org. He and his wife, Bethany, live with their son in Minneapolis.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/plan-to-be-interrupted?utm_campaign=Daily+Email&utm_medium=email&_hsmi=100733901&_hsenc=p2ANqtz-_rohlR03MfMkPqxMqgdH_rC3GG86ENxq4t3npSVmwkVOJN-35mgUfpv3UvKDjotk5lMFdXGTOJmpN6U-muxZM2yJUsgQ&utm_content=100733901&utm_source=hs_email

Thankfulness Pushes Anxiety Away

Paul Tautges

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.

Col. 3:15-16

Luke 17:11–19 tells of the time when Jesus healed ten lepers but only one of them returned to show his gratitude. Christ had healed the leper physically—but, much more importantly, our Lord had also healed the leprosy of the sin in his heart. According to Jesus, this man’s faith made him “well” (Luke 17:19). What distinguished this man from the other nine? He met Jesus as his Savior, not just as a healer. As a result, he became a new creature in Christ. And his soul-saving encounter produced in him a heart of thankfulness.

The thankful leper’s conversion illustrates the new-creature expectation that is found in many New Testament letters—the expectation that sinners saved by grace will be filled with gratitude. The larger context of today’s verses is God’s command to believers to “put off the old self with its practices” and “put on the new self ” (Col. 3:9–10).

Two spiritual disciplines cultivate an attitude of gratitude.

Let the peace of God rule your heart.

An attitude of gratitude is directly connected to whether or not the peace of God rules our hearts. Having the peace of God is different from being at peace with God. Peace with God is positional—it is related to who we are in Christ. We are no longer enemies but friends, submissive kingdom citizens, and children (see John 15:15; Col. 1:21–22; 1 John 3:2). But the peace of God is experiential—it’s a calm assurance that guards our inner person through Word-based trust, the Holy Spirit, and prayer (see Isa. 26:3; Rom. 14:17; Phil. 4:6–7). When God’s peace rules our hearts, anxiety has a harder time getting in. It’s far too easy for us to search for quick fixes to our worries, such as rearranging our circumstances. (Difficult job? Find another one. Difficult relationship? Avoid the other person.) While this may provide us temporary relief, long-lasting experiential peace comes from positional peace. In order for us to quell our anxieties, we must first be made right with God.

Let the Word of Christ richly dwell within you.

Meditating on the Word permits it to sink deeply into our inner person. It challenges and changes our minds’ worries and our hearts’ fears, which produces joy. This joy then produces a desire in us to sing Christ-exalting praise. It seems clear from this text that a thankful spirit flows from a heart that is touched by grace, controlled by the Spirit, and fed by the Word.

So when we are anxious, we should ask, “What’s going on in my heart?” More than likely, we lack the attitude of gratitude that flows from the rule and enrichment of the Word.

Though anxiety and ingratitude are common bedfellows, they should not be a lifestyle for those who know Christ.

• Reflect: When do you sing praise to God? Is the Sunday gathering of God’s people the only time when you sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs? If so, why?

• Reflect: What changes do you need to make concerning your intake of the Word through reading, study, and memorization? If you are not sure how to make these changes, find a mature Christian and ask for help.

• Act: Begin a “why I’m thankful” list in your journal, and add to it as the Spirit brings to your mind ways in which God’s grace has been poured into your life.

[Adapted from the 31-day devotional, Anxiety: Knowing God’s Peace]

Poste at: https://counselingoneanother.com/2020/11/25/thankfulness-pushes-anxiety-away/

Secret Sins Will Harm Others

Article by Greg Morse

J.C. Ryle is right when he observes that sin never announces itself to us with its full intentions. It never says, “I am your deadly enemy, and I want to ruin you forever in hell” (Holiness, 9). It shows its pleasure, but hides its pain; shows its sparkle, but hides its death (Romans 6:23).

But that is not all that sin fails to reveal to us in the moment of temptation. It also does not disclose how it plans to harm others. It never introduces itself, “I am your deadly enemy and the deadly enemy of everyone you know. I want to ruin you and them in hell — and use your sins and theirs as a means to do it.”

One of the most treacherous lies we can believe about sin, especially sin we consider private or secret, is that we can keep its consequences to ourselves. That we will be the only ones — if anyone — affected. We rarely consider how our sin inevitably influences others in one way or another.

Sin Never Stays Alone

Even when we “sin alone” — meaning that although the lidless eye of heaven sees us, no other human does — our sin does not remain alone. It travels with us from the shadows into the world of our relationships. We sin as a member of a community — even when we sin alone. Herman Bavinck so helpfully points this out when observing our first parents’ sin:

Adam and Eve sinned not only as individuals, as persons, but they sinned also as husband and wife, as father and mother; they were playing with their own destiny, with the destiny of their family, and with the destiny of the entire human race. (The Christian Family, 10)

To be sure, our sin does not carry the same consequences as our federal head. His sin was Original; ours derivative. But it is true that we, like Adam, never sin just as isolated humans, as individuals. We never play just with our own destinies, completely detached from others. We each sin as a human connected to other humans. We sin, as often as we sin, as fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, neighbors, coworkers, citizens, and, if Christians, members of the body of Christ.

“We sin as a member of a community — even when we sin alone.”

In suggesting that some sins affect only us, Satan strips some of the urgency from fighting private sins of anxiety, undiscovered flames of envy, hidden banquets of pornography telling us that such will stay quarantined with us. Each will have to lie in his own bed — nobody else will lie in it with us.

In this, Satan is a crafty spider, spinning a web of concealed threads sticking to those we never intended to harm. He hides the consequence of how powerless sin makes us when a friend comes to us for help, how unmindful we become toward our children because the fear of man grips our attention, how the sewer of lustful images lingers in our head, hindering us from brotherly love in Christ. The devil would not dare remind us of the horrible side effects, including distraction, disinclination, and hardness of heart, that poison our love for God and good deeds toward those closest to us.

Infectious Folly

As people who have committed innumerable sins, I assume we all know this to be the case experientially. But do we see this principle in Scripture? On top of narrative after narrative showing individuals’ sins that did not stay individual, glean from the wisdom of the book of Proverbs.

“A wise son makes a glad father, but a foolish son is a sorrow to his mother” (Proverbs 10:1). A foolish man is not a foolish man for himself alone, but a foolish son for his mother. When Judas, an evil man, betrayed the Lord, he did so not only as Judas, but also as “Simon’s son” (John 13:2, 26).

Or consider the surprise twist in Proverbs 10:17: “Whoever heeds instruction is on the path to life, but he who rejects reproof leads others astray.” The father, mother, daughter, son who rejects godly reproof does not merely lead himself astray but, like a strong current, drags others along with him. He is not stiff-necked for himself alone.

Similarly, a foolish wife and mother not only decays her vertical relationship with Christ, but takes down her whole household with her: “The wisest of women builds her house, but folly with her own hands tears it down” (Proverbs 14:1). When we sow seeds to the flesh, they reap corruption not only in ourselves but in all spheres of life. Poison in, poison out — and most to those we love most dearly.

‘Against You, You Only’?

If our sin has such dire, hidden consequences for others, why does David repent of his grievous, explicit sins against Uriah (adultery and murder) as he does in Psalm 51?

Against you [God], you only, have I sinned
     and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you may be justified in your words
     and blameless in your judgment. (Psalm 51:4)

He sinned only against God? Did David really mean for Uriah’s family to sing those lyrics placed in Israel’s hymnbook, “Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight,” as though their beloved, faithful Uriah had not been profoundly betrayed and then murdered?

“Sin’s effects, we often find out too late, are far messier and far more uncontrollable than we imagine when tempted.”

David meant that as compared to all others he sinned against God alone. His was not a humanitarian worldview that placed offenses against man above offenses against God. “Against man, and man alone, have I sinned” is the modern creed. No, David knows full well that he has Uriah’s blood on his hands: “Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God” (Psalm 51:14). But even this is foremost treason against his Creator.

He acknowledges that his sin was chiefly against God, but consider the web of consequences. When David sinned, he did so as a husband, as a father, as a son to Jesse, as a fellow brother and soldier to Uriah, as the king of Israel, as a man who would influence many sons and daughters, husbands and wives, citizens and souls long after he had departed from this world. His sin was against God and God alone, but the consequences of that sin did not stay with him alone.

You Never Obey Alone

Sin’s effects, we often find out too late, are far messier and far more uncontrollable than we imagine when tempted. But this brings us to the staggering contrast.

Satan would conceal the engulfing influence iniquity has on others. But he also hides the momentous influence of what we too often consider common, hidden acts of faith, love, and obedience. He would have us think that sin and holiness are both trivial, both mists that vanish into irrelevance. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Did you see it in the wisdom from Proverbs?

• “A wise son makes a glad father, but a foolish son is a sorrow to his mother” (Proverbs 10:1).

• “The wisest of women builds her house, but folly with her own hands tears it down” (Proverbs 14:1).

A wise man is not wise to himself, but he is a wise son who makes a happy father. A wise woman cannot contain the blessing of her wisdom to herself; she builds up her whole household from her fear and love and obedience to her Lord. Proverbs and the narratives in Scripture bear testimony together that “whoever heeds instruction is on the path to life” (Proverbs 10:17) and he who accepts reproof leads others along that same path.

Incalculable is that blessing flowing to others from the hidden headwaters of communion with Christ. The godly man, whose mind and heart meditate upon the Scriptures, becomes the Giving Tree of fruit to others, whose own leaf does not whither (Psalm 1).

Only heaven can detail how turning off that screen in that moment, and how a pattern of praying to God, affects thousands of situations, and people, to follow. Slight turns of the rudder change the course of large ships. When we treasure Christ above sin’s pleasures and believe his promises above Satan’s lies, we flood our spheres with waves of blessing. Hidden sins, like hidden good works, “cannot remain hidden” (1 Timothy 5:25).

Greg Morse is a staff writer for desiringGod.org and graduate of Bethlehem College & Seminary. He and his wife, Abigail, live in St. Paul with their daughter.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/secret-sins-will-harm-others

3 Blessings of Seeing Our Sin

By Edward Welch

Sin Is Heavy

Suffering feels like our biggest problem and avoiding it like our greatest need—but we know that there is something more. Sin is actually our biggest problem, and rescue from it is our greatest need.

There is a link between the two. Suffering exposes the sin in our hearts in a way that few things can. When our lives are trouble free, we can confuse personal satisfaction for faith. We can think that God is good, and we are pleased with him, though we might be pleased less with him than we are with the ease of our lives. Then, when life is hard—especially when life remains hard—the allegiances of our hearts become more apparent. Suffering will reveal sin that still “clings so closely” to us (Heb. 12:1), and sin weighs a lot.

We don’t always like to look at it, but this burden needs to be dealt with. Sin is the heaviest of weights; forgiveness is the greatest deliverance.

See the Weight

Only people who know they have burdens can be delivered from them. Sadly, the method for that deliverance—confession—has been tarnished. We are slow to talk about sin for fear that it could threaten our already fragile egos or label us as judgmental and narrow-minded. But instead of thinking about sin talk as an endless stream of negativity and browbeating, think of it as something good. It is, after all, a part of God’s rescue package that is called the “Good News.”

So though it’s true that sin itself is not good, to see our sin is good. Whereas sin leads down a burden-filled path, Jesus says, “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). Confession is essential to that life.

Seeing the weight of our sin brings blessings. Here are three:

1. Seeing the weight of our sin drives us to Jesus.

It is the Spirit’s work to help us see our sin (John 16:8). This drives us to Jesus for forgiveness, and this is very good. Jesus comes for sinners, not the righteous (Matt. 9:13). Conviction of sin shows that we are alive and responsive. Conviction means that we can see ourselves, at least partly, and that is a prerequisite for talking with friends about sins (Matt. 7:3–5).

With no need for mercy, why bother sticking with Jesus? If we look to him merely for deliverance from life’s difficult circumstances, we would do better with Prozac or a little cunning. These, at least in the short term, seem more effective.

2. Seeing the weight of our sin brings humility.

An awareness of sin brings humility—not shame or humiliation—and humility is a brilliant reflection of Jesus to others.

The tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted. (Luke 18:13–14)

Here is a community goal: to be able to identify one pattern of sin in our lives, and to be able to do it with only a moment’s notice any time we are asked.

Sin is the heaviest of weights; forgiveness is the greatest deliverance.

3. Seeing the weight of our sin is the beginning of power and confidence.

When we see our sin, we are seeing the Spirit’s conviction, which means we are witnessing spiritual power, but that power feels different from what we expect. It’s not like worldly power. Spiritual power feels like a struggle, or weakness, or neediness, or desperation. It is simply, “I need Jesus,” which is the most powerful thing we can say. It means that our confidence is not in ourselves or in either our righteousness before God or our reputation before others. Our confidence is in Jesus, and that confidence cannot be shaken. Just imagine: no more hiding from God, no more defensiveness in our relationships. When we have wronged others, we simply ask their forgiveness. Our security in Jesus gives us the opportunity to think less often about what others think of us. It gives us freedom to make mistakes and even fail. No longer do we have to build and protect our own kingdom.

Sins weighs a lot, but those who can see their sins see something good. When we confess these sins, knowing that they are forgiven, we see something better—Jesus himself.

Lay the Weight Down

So we want to grow in seeing sin and confessing it. We want to lay the weight down. But it’s not always easy. Young children confess blatant disobedience—“I’m sorry I threw my dolly at you”—but the ins and outs of that disobedience are lost on them. We, too, can be children. Consider the man caught in pornography whose confession—“I’m sorry, okay?”—doesn’t measure up to a child’s. Such confessions, from an adult, are unbecoming and hurtful. To lay the weight of sin down means looking more carefully at our hearts.

Against you, you only, have I sinned (Ps. 51:4).

Though we don’t always realize it, all sin is personal—it is against God. It is against God and his character. Our sin says, “I want my independence”; “I don’t want to be associated with you”; “I want more than you can offer me”; “I know what is best for me”; or—and this is scary—“I hate you” (James 4:4). We don’t always know we are saying these things, but that is the nature of the heart. There is usually more going on than what we see.

Throughout biblical history, God has graciously let his people see the realities of their hearts. When he liberated his people from Egypt and led them into the desert on the way to a fruitful land, the people grumbled against Moses and Aaron, wondering, as many of us would, why they were being taken out of Egypt only to face other hardships in the desert.

Moses saw clearly: “Your grumbling is not against us but against the Lord” (Ex. 16:8). No one had said a word against God, but in reality they all had. The Lord himself responded to Moses by exposing the truth:

The Lord said to Moses, “How long will this people despise me? And how long will they not believe in me, in spite of all the signs that I have done among them?” (Num. 14:11)

And all they did was a little grumbling during a challenging day.

The New Testament letter from James follows up on this insight (James 4:1–10). James takes us from things that are obvious, such as disputes and quarrels, and then moves to things that are less obvious, such as our out-of-control desires and demands, our unfaithfulness to God, our friendship with both the world and the Devil, and our hatred against God. What has seemed like a perfectly good reason to get ticked off at someone becomes a time for the Spirit to take us into depths we could not see without him.

Let’s keep that understanding of our hearts in mind. Bad behaviors, even those that are culturally acceptable, like a little grumbling, are expressions of our spiritual allegiances. And through confession we invite God’s spotlight on those uneven and divided allegiances.

Confession Is for Everyone, Every Day

We all need to confess, and we need to do it every day (Matt. 6:12). No one is so bad that he or she is beyond forgiveness. Scripture includes murderers (Moses) and schemers (Jacob) and adulterers (David) among God’s people so that no one can say that they are beyond the reach of God’s mercy.

On the other hand, no one is so good that only one or two confessions a year will do. There are things we could confess from any moment in our day, because no one is perfect this side of heaven.

So even though sin weighs a lot, we aim to see it and enjoy the benefits of confession. When we lay it down, we are thankful and find joy in confession, knowing we are already forgiven because Jesus has become our sacrifice, once and for all (Heb. 10:11–14). Our greatest need has been met.

This article is adapted from Side by Side: Walking with Others in Wisdom and Love by Edward T. Welch.

Posted at: https://www.crossway.org/articles/3-blessings-of-seeing-our-sin/

The Resurrection Creates Reconciliation

by Jared C. Wilson 

As we search the Scriptures for insight into Jesus, we must never forget the primary reason why the biblical testimonies exist.

Look at what John asserts as the thesis statement for his gospel: “[B]ut these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (20:31). He didn’t write his gospel just so you will understand, be convinced, or be informed; he writes so that you will believe with a life-giving effect, so that you will take in the power of the cross and be born again with a life with the quality of resurrection.

It is not enough to simply be convinced that Jesus died on the cross for your sins. You must be convicted of it. Your convincing has to lead to a conviction and a commitment. The influence of the work of the cross on your life must come full with the power of the resurrection, and that is not a power that will be content to settle in your mind. It is a power that gives new life. Just like the disciples mourning the death of Jesus believed his death had some meaning for forgiveness in their lives were set afire by the reality that Jesus lives, we must move beyond belief into a life—into a kingdom life—that buzzes and hums with the eternal quality of resurrection.

A resurrection gospel is a full gospel. What we are accustomed to is a simplistic, stripped down gospel, a gospel that suggests, “You have issues, but Jesus died for you; now be a good person.” The full gospel says, “The problem is a radical one no less serious than death and it requires a radical intervention no less powerful than resurrection.” The full gospel says the level and quality of your messed-up-ness is complete, exhaustive, irreconcilable, but the gift of God’s grace extends infinitely, eternally, covering it all. It reconciles us fully to God in a way that can only be described as bringing a dead person back to life.

As a matter of truly living out a resurrection life, we followers of Jesus have to re-focus our understanding of salvation from what we’re being saved from and place it on what we’re being saved to. That is the difference between the occupied cross and the empty tomb.

Look at the way Paul describes the fullness of salvation:

[E]ven as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ . . .  (Eph. 1:4-9)

There is a richness here, a full fledged act of rescue and reinstatement that goes so far beyond getting our golden ticket to heaven. This passage demonstrates the true fullness of salvation. Look at how mighty to save our Lord is:

He chose us before the world was created. He chose us to be adopted into his family. Consequently, we don’t just have forgiveness, we have the key to unlocking the mystery of God’s will. Because Christ’s resurrection is the firstfruits of our own, we can know that God is including us in his plans for the future, for his plans for the universe. We are not privy to all the details, and he certainly doesn’t need our help, but we have the assurance that our loving God has established for us a future and a hope. He is choosing us as partakers in the indescribable glory of God.

In our sin, this may not seem like such a big deal, but if we could grasp even a sliver of how much we don’t deserve such lavish treatment, we might behold the power of the resurrection in it. You’ve got to really get grace, that it really is all that Christ is in exchange for our complete and utter emptiness. The resurrection is not just about turning over a new leaf. It really is about being dead and then being brought back to life. It really is about being an enemy of God and being brought into the light.

In Colossians 1:21, Paul describes our state before salvation as being alienated from God. We were separated from him, far from him. We are images of God that are broken. We were in bondage to sin, we were dead and buried like Lazarus in the tomb, we were effectively disowned and dismissed, and like the prodigal son’s exile, it was self-willed. We were, for all intents and purposes, anti-God, even if consciously we were just ambivalent. But then the resurrection power of Jesus, he who is mighty to save, ushers us into new life—where?—“in him.”

Paul describes this wondrous reunion alternately here:

Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.  (Rom. 5:9-11)

We are saved from many things: sin, Satan, punishment, death. But primarily we are saved from the wrath of God. And we aren’t just passed over for wrath; we are brought in, held close, covered up. We have received reconciliation. This is such a powerful way to talk about salvation, because it moves us beyond self-centered talk of being saved into a personal faith, as if Christianity is about self-improvement, and takes us right into being unified again with God, which posits salvation such as it is—Jesus the Savior taking dead strangers to God and transforming them into living friends.

We have been reconciled to God. We were alienated from him, effectively enemies, but in Christ’s death we were made right with God. In other words, the debt we owed has been paid and credited to us, and in Christ’s resurrection we have been made alive to God.

See, when Adam fell, taking the fruit he wasn’t supposed to and eating it, he marred creation by ushering death and division into it. By embracing sin, he invited death and he set up a dividing wall between him and God that could not be surmounted from his (Adam’s) side. So a new Adam has come, dying to fulfill the death owed by man, and rising to give new life to those who desperately need it. And therefore we are reconciled to God.

That is the meaning of life, by the way. It’s not being healthy and wealthy and happy and wise. It’s not being successful or achieving all your dreams. The meaning of life is moving from alienation from God to being adopted into his family.

But the reconciling work doesn’t stop there.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.  (2 Cor. 5:17-21)

What happened at the fall? Not only did Adam and Eve create separation between themselves and God, they created it between each other as well. The Bible says there was then also enmity between the man and the woman. So the fall distances us, separates us, it makes us say to ourselves, “I am my own person.” And to fully embrace the fullness of the gospel, we can’t just say, “Jesus has saved me from my sins,” we have to confess, “Jesus has reconciled me to God . . . and to others.”

Thus ensues the ministry of reconciliation Paul talks about. As followers of Jesus, “Christ’s ambassadors,” we act out our reconciliation with God in our relationships with others. This is the foundational command Jesus gives as the Mission Statement of the life of discipleship: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart soul mind and strength . . . and you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” The two are inextricably linked, because the saving reconciliation is a holistic reconciliation, a full reconciliation. Because he lives, we can finally, really live. The resurrection restores the entirety of our brokenness and division.

Posted at: https://ftc.co/resource-library/blog-entries/the-resurrection-creates-reconciliation/

He is Enough

Nathan White

Inspired by the nineteenth-century showman P.T. Barnum (of Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus), the 2017 musical The Greatest Showman tells the story of a man on a mission for fame. Ambitious and relentless, Barnum rises from the depths of poverty to unimaginable heights of worldwide sensation. But this is no common rags-to-riches story. Not satisfied with extraordinary success, Barnum craves more. At the height of his fame, Barnum gambles everything to use a famous opera star to satisfy his critics. Capturing the true irony of Barnum’s desires, the opera singer’s capstone ballad is the repetitive and haunting cry of “never enough,” which serves as a commentary on Barnum’s insatiable hunger and eventual downfall. “Towers of gold are still too little,” she sings. “These hands could hold the world but it'll never be enough.”

This story and song resonate because they undoubtedly echo the common cry of the human heart. Ever since Eve desired more and succumbed to the temptation of the serpent, discontentment has plagued our world. The Barnum of The Greatest Showman is undoubtedly paradigmatic of twenty-first-century America. Never before has there been so much excess coupled with such widespread dissatisfaction. How much is enough? “Just a little bit more,” John D. Rockefeller famously quipped. Even if we resist this common ethos of our age, we’re still bombarded with advertising that tries to convince us that what we have now is, indeed, never enough.

How, then, does the gospel of Jesus Christ speak to this common quest for more? The tenth commandment, “You shall not covet” (Ex. 20:17), gets right to the heart of this matter. Westminster Shorter Catechism 147 identifies the duties required here as a “full contentment with our own condition, with a right and charitable frame of spirit toward our neighbor, and all that is his.” With this we see both a Godward and an outward disposition of true contentment.

The Godward aspect of contentment is best understood in the preface to the Ten Commandments when the Lord reminds Israel that He is the One “who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery” (Ex. 20:2). As covenant Lord, Yahweh had rescued His people from bondage, He had demonstrated lordship over the created realm and every so-called god of this world, and He did so out of His great love for them—not because they had earned or deserved it. Not only did the Lord redeem them, but He also gave Israel the land of rest, with the promise to meet their earthly needs in the days ahead.

True contentment is found in knowing the character of God.SHARE

What we learn here is that true contentment is found in knowing the character of God and His history of faithfulness and in trusting in His sovereign wisdom and goodness to provide. Far from the stoic idea of passive resignation to our fate, godly contentment is positive assurance, joy, and gratitude that God personally watches over us and supplies all our needs. True contentment means being satisfied in Him, trusting His faithfulness, and holding on to the truth that nothing here on earth compares to the inheritance that awaits eternity. True contentment is freely submitting to and delighting in God’s fatherly provision for us, whatever that might be.

The disposition of contentment toward our neighbor is a bit more complicated. It’s ironic that this commandment speaks specifically about our neighbor, and yet it’s the only commandment that our neighbors cannot see. Even if we live simple lives, covetousness can still be present, or our lifestyle can be seen as just a personal preference. After all, there is a certain pride and status nowadays in purposely having less. Minimalism as a means of individual betterment and peace is a common expression of moralism and false religion. In contrast to this, godly contentment consists in genuine joy at the prosperity of our neighbor, an eagerness to give to those in need, and living lives that testify to the presence and lordship of Christ over our situation and possessions. Our call is not simply to be content with less but to be discontent when our neighbor does not have enough—so much so that we’re willing to give from our provisions to meet their needs. This is how contentment consists in much more than just living below our means.

How, then, can we escape the pull depicted in Barnum of “never enough” and live as salt and light in a world that is never satisfied? The answer is found not in a lack of desire but in the fervent desire for the right things. As Augustine famously prayed, “Our heart is restless until it finds its rest in Thee.” Only Christ can satisfy our hunger and quench our thirst (John 6:35). This is because He first humbled Himself under the Father’s will and then conquered through His perfect life, atoning death, and victorious resurrection. Christ obeyed all and won it all, including heaven itself, which He freely gives to us by grace, received by faith alone. Living, then, with the awareness that He gave Himself for us, that He is present and will never leave us or forsake us (Heb. 13:5), we learn and model contentment through His continual strengthening of us (Phil. 4:12–13) until that last day when we will inherit it all in Him. Contentment, then, is not simply to desire less but to earnestly desire that which can never be taken away.

At the Lord’s Table, I’ve sometimes found myself wanting a little more than a small piece of bread and a tiny cup. But in such times, I’m reminded that the sacred meal is but a foretaste of the ultimate meal to come. Even though it’s a meager portion, it’s what God has chosen to give us as a gift. And since we have the promise of His presence when we partake, that presence is always more than enough.

Rev. Nathan White is pastor of Christ Reformed Baptist Church in Lookout Mountain, Tenn.

Posted at: https://tabletalkmagazine.com/article/2020/12/he-is-enough/