Fight the Good Fight of the Faith: Recounting the History of God's Grace

Well, we have made it through the book of Joshua. This Sunday, the sermon posted will look at the final chapter and see how God and Joshua end this wonderful book that teaches us how to fight the good fight of the faith.

In the previous sermon, we saw Joshua's final words to the leaders of Israel that teach them about living by faith. In this final chapter of the book, Joshua leads the people in renewing the covenant with God, which is an act of rededicating themselves to His service before Joshua passes into glory and they are on their own. The way the covenant renewal ceremony is laid out in this passage is very similar to the covenants of the other peoples of the ancient near east surrounding Israel. God chose to make His covenants with them in a way that would be familiar to them (in and of itself and act of grace!).

The ceremonies generally opened with a preamble where the parties making the covenant introduce themselves, and then they go on to a "historical prologue" where the history of the relationship between the parties is recounted (i.e. everything that is leading up to the covenant ceremony). The covenant renewal ceremony in Jos. 24 follows that pattern, and it is the historical prologue that I want to focus on for this devotional. We will talk about it a little Sunday, but we will not be able to go into detail there. So, here are a few theological highlights from the recounting of the history of God and His people to this point (reading Jos. 24:1-13 first would be helpful):

• Unconditional Election: Joshua starts out by reminding them that God took Abraham from Ur while Abraham was still a pagan. And, Abraham was chosen; not his brother Nahor, yet Abraham deserved it no more than Nahor. Abraham was no saint when God found him. He was plunged into pagan worship probably just as much as the Canaanites. Abraham did not become a believer because he was somehow inherently better than his father or brother. Abraham did not deserve it any more than anyone else. No, it was because God "took" him and "led" him. God loved Abraham when he deserved only wrath. The fact that Israel exists at all is simply an act of God's free grace and unconditional election. And, this is consistent with the rest of Scripture. The Bible constantly reminds us of who we were, but it is not to bring us to despair but to show us the incredible grace of God. Francis Schaeffer once wrote:

Whether studying the Old Testament or the New, we are reminded that we are not where we are because of a long, wise, and godly heritage. We come from rebellion. Individually, we are children of wrath. After we are Christians, we must look at others who are still under God's wrath and always say, "I am essentially what you are. If I am in a different place, it is not because I am intrinsically better than you, but simply because God has done something in my life." There is no place for pride.

• Slow growth: Joshua tells us that God multiplied Abraham's seed, but it was really, really slow. He only gave him Isaac. Isaac only had two sons, one of which would not produce people of God (i.e. Esau). Finally, with Jacob's twelve sons, things start to speed up. So, we see from this that God does what He promises, but sometimes it is so gradual that we do not notice until it has been going on for a long time. We need to keep this in mind and walk by faith; not by sight. As one commentator says, "We easily lose sight of what Yahweh has done by demanding too much too soon."
• Rough spots: Joshua also points out that Esau and his people (not God's people) get their inheritance right away but Jacob and his sons (God's people!) go to Egypt and become slaves. What? Why do the covenant people get slavery while the others get their land? Sometimes history seems to conflict with God's design, which is, again, why we have to walk by faith and not by sight. God always accomplishes His design, but sometimes it is not at all when we would expect it (cf. e.g. He. 11:32-38). The Scriptures are realistic about this and do not hide the "rough spots" from us, and that shows God is honest, realistic, and always faithful. God showing us the "rough spots" and confusing parts of history is not to make us relish the difficult aspects of the life to which He has called His people but to show us that He is faithful to hold us in and bring us through the "rough spots."
• God's power: In vv. 5-12, Joshua recounts God's incredible power to deliver His people from Egypt (the greatest power in the world at the time), conquer the kings east of the Jordan, and conquer the Promised Land. Joshua sums it up with telling the people that it was not by their sword or bow that all this was accomplished but by God's mighty power. Time and time again God's people are outnumbered, outgunned, or even completely helpless, and God fights for them by His mighty power. This shows us what Jonah learned in Jon. 2:9: Salvation is of the LORD. Paul also tells us this in 2 Co. 4:7. This is not to say that we just "let go and let God," for God uses our struggles, as we fight by faith, but it does show us that our struggles would be nothing, useless, futile without God's mighty power. (We will talk more about this in the upcoming sermon.)
• God's provision: If we look at vv. 7, 13, Joshua shows us God's provision in necessity and abundance, but also note that His provision is the basic stuff: manna, grain, towns, houses. It, with the exception of the manna, is ordinary stuff that we take for granted every day, but it is all of God's grace. God always provides for His people, but we need to remember too that God isn't some kind of genie that just grants our wishes. He gives us our needs; not necessarily our desires. And, most often He does it through the normal, ordinary means of a job, a family, etc.

You see, Joshua does not recount their history just to show them their past but to show them the great God whom they serve. That is the basis for the rest of the covenant renewal ceremony, which we will talk more about on Sunday. Until then, think about your own history, and I bet if you think long and hard enough, you could find some very similar displays of God's grace, faithfulness, power, and provision even during the rought spots, and if you do that, it will refresh your soul.

By His Grace,
Taylor

What do Christians do now?

No matter what your personal feelings are about our recent election results, we cannot deny that in our nation frustrations abound, emotions are confused and conflicted, confusion is rampant, and division is evident. Facebook is full of individuals trying to express to the world how they feel, one way or another. Peaceful demonstrations and rioting are happening in many cities throughout the US. America is divided by the celebration of some and deep fear and anger of others. And, Christians might be wondering, "What do we do? How do we respond?"

Well, I cannot tell you everything that you need to do to respond, but here are several biblical guidelines to help us process what is running through our heads and help those around us in our sphere of influence.

Pray for our nation, President-elect, and other government officials: Christians are called to be in submission to the governments under which we live and to pray for our leaders. As difficult as it may be for some to hear this right now, that is what we are called to do by God, and no matter your feelings about this election, you cannot deny that we are a deeply divided nation and prayer is desperately needed. You may be confused, you may be hurting, you may be angry, or you may be celebrating but none of that exempts us from the call to prayer. If you do not know how to pray for our nation, I would recommend reading this article by my senior pastor on eleven ways to pray for the new President-elect and the nation. Pay particular attention to the last way. And, note also that, while in this article he does express some of his emotions about our current situation, he does so in a way that fears God and is honoring to our leaders (see below), as well as brings us back to praying for the good of our leaders and nation.

Take seriously God's Word through Paul and Peter in Ro. 13:1-7 and 1 Pt. 2:12-17: Christian, this may be hard to hear for you right now or it might be too easy for you to hear, but we are called to be subject to and honor the governing authorities. Please take a moment and reread Paul and Peter's words in these passages, and, in fact, if you do that and do not come back to this post: fine, for they will do you more good than anything else I can say. I want to highlight in particular Peter's final command in that section in v. 17: "Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor." We need to take that very seriously, for as Peter says in the beginning of the passage, "Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation." So, what does that verse mean? Well, let's look at the couplets:

• "Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood." First, this means in our interactions in person or on social media, we need to honor everyone, even if we disagree with them. We may feel compelled to speak truth, but we should always speak the truth in love, which means at least that we are "quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger"; we do not berate; we do not mock; we do not antagonize; we do not resort to name-calling; we do not gloat; and we also seek peace, not quarrels. The tongue is a dangerous tool that sets ablaze a world of unrighteousness, and we can do that by gloating or by being angry. Second, this means we need to be especially careful with how we interact with other believers. All of the above still applies, and we need to remember that the world knows we are Christians by our love for one another. The other side of that is that when the world sees us fighting among ourselves, the gospel and cause of Christ is maligned. Please, remember we are to glorify God in all we do and not give unnecessary offense.
• "Fear God. Honor the emperor." First, remember that both Paul and Peter wrote under the rule of Nero when they composed these works of God's Word, and both remind us that we should honor the rulers. I know for some that is hard to hear right now, but we need to bring our emotions into submission to God's Word and honor the rulers who are taking office. That means that we can disagree with them and we can even point out their immorality (we will get to that in just a moment), but, like above, we do not berate, we do not mock, we do not resort to name-calling, we speak in love and not anger, and we do not join with those who do. We show them the respect and honor their office is due. Second, do not gloss over the command to fear God. Fearing God means being subject to authorities, but it does not mean covering up their sins, making light of their sins, or defending their sins. Sin is sin, and Christians are never to cover up, condone, make light of, or defend sinfulness. We are "to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with [our] God." Part of honoring our leaders and everyone is not letting sinfulness and injustice prevail and loving those who are needy, persecuted, and have no voice.

Remember that God is in control of all this: Christian, we know something that the non-believers in this world do not: God is in sovereign control of all that is happening right now, the leaders are in His hands and He does with them as He wishes, all kingship truly belongs to Him, and He has placed all authorities in their places. And, even though we may not be able to figure out why, we can know He has done it for the good of His people. These are His promises from His Word, so we need to keep them close to heart and walk by faith; not by sight in times of confusion, pain, and fear. And, even in times of celebration, we are not to place our faith in our leaders, for they are just tools of God; not any time of savior for this nation.  

Remember that this nation is not our true home or our true hope: Christian, while yours and my earthly home may be in America and we may even be citizens of this nation, our true citizenship is in heaven because when we were united to Christ, He transferred us from kingdoms of this world into His eternal Kingdom. Now we are spiritual exiles in our physical homes. So, while we do want our nation to prosper (see below), we can also know that this nation is not really our home or our hope, and the like the great "cloud of witnesses" of Christians past, we are looking forward to a heavenly city "whose designer and builder is God." We do care about our nation, its people, and we grieve injustice, division, and conflict, but our hope should never be here or in any nation for all of this will one day pass away. Our hope should be in the new heavens and new earth that Jesus has secured for us. The world desperately needs to see that hope right now because it is what causes them to ask questions and gives us the chance the share the gospel. 

Seek the welfare of our nation: Christian, while this nation is not our home and we really are citizens of God's Kingdom, we are still here right now, and He calls us to seek the welfare of this nation. In fact, the passage to which I just alluded deserves full quotation:

Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.

Our spiritual exile currently in whatever nation we occupy is mirrored in the physical exile that Israel experienced in Babylon, and that is actually why Peter calls us exiles in the first place in 1 Pt. 1:1, so God's commands to them apply to us as well. We need to conduct ourselves, live our lives, use social media, work our jobs, communicate with politicians and leaders, and do whatever else we do in this life in such a way that it contributes to the welfare of our nation. It does not matter how we feel about our nation or the government, we are called to seek its welfare. As Paul says in Ro. 13:2, "Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment." Now, that does not mean we cannot peacefully protest or call out the sins and injustice of our leaders, for those can be ways of actually seeking the welfare of our nation, but we should not be involved in or condone activity that undermines peace, safety, justice, and the welfare of our nation. We also need to do it in such a way that we continue to honor our leaders, as mentioned above.

Be careful how you conduct yourself at times like this: Christian, there are a lot of emotions rolling around right now. Some are celebrating, and others are hurting, angry, and fearful. When such emotional ups and downs run unchecked, it creates conflict, division, and even some violence, as the recent news has shown. Christians are ambassadors for Christ, are called to be instruments of reconciliation, should have gracious speech, and need to be careful never to add to that strife, unrest, division, or quarreling in the way we conduct ourselves in our conversations and especially on social media. (Here is a great post about general rules for posting on social media.) Let me try to give some guidelines that might be helpful:

• If you are angry, confused, or even celebrating, take that to the Lord first, just as the psalmists did with life's ups and downs. If you are celebrating, remember that no mere man is a savior who will solve your problems. We have only one Savior and Shepherd who can solve our problems, and it is Jesus Christ. All other men are fallen and will disappoint us, so keep your celebration moderate, always looking to God alone for your peace, hope, and confidence. If you are angry, hurting, or confused, again, take those to God first, using the psalms of lament as your guide. A few examples are Ps. 44; 60; 74, and note in particular that, while these psalms express deep feelings of pain to God, they never accuse God of wrong-doing and they move to praise for His goodness even in the midst of hardship. That should be our pattern. 
• If you have spent time in prayer, and you still need "to get it out," start with personal conversations with friends or family first, please! This will help you process whatever you are feeling and get a handle on your emotions.
• If, after all that, you still feel like you need to say something publicly on social media or in some other fashion, speak only the truth and do it in love and let "your speech always be gracious." If you are celebrating (and with how much pain there is out there right now, I honestly cannot imagine a good reason to celebrate publicly but perhaps you have one), do not "rub it in," especially when you know others are hurting, for that is provoking and pride at its ugliest, and, again, do not elevate a mere man to the position of a savior. Jesus is our only Savior, and all our leaders in this world are fallen instruments in the hands of God. If you are hurting, make sure that your grief is not the grief of a world that has no hope but the grief of a Christian who has certain hope in Christ. And, if you are angry too, be angry but do not sin, as Paul commands us. An example of sinful anger might be if we do not follow the above guidelines from Paul and Peter about honoring our leaders and everyone, as well as not loving our brothers and sisters and Christ as we should. Hopefully, if you have expressed your pain and anger to God first and close friends and/or family second, by the time you get here, you will be ready to be angry without sin. 
• No matter how you feel about this election, remember that we are called to "weep with those who weep." If you are celebrating, the Christ-like and loving thing to do would be to set aside your celebration and acknowledge that there are those who are hurting around you, validate that, and weep with them. In that pain, you can offer them the hope of the gospel, but validate their pain, enter into it, and uphold them through it. If you are hurting too, it seems hardly needful to tell you to weep with those who weep, but perhaps you need to hear that in your weeping, you need to weep as one who has hope in the gospel and pass that on to others. Sometimes in our emotions, we can forget that our hope is not in this world or in the leaders of this world but in God's sovereign control of it (see above) and in the new heavens and new earth (see above). Remember that and lead others who are mourning to that hope.

Keep the first things first: Christian, at the end of the day, we are called to be salt and light in this world, make disciples of Christ, work our jobs as to Christ, love God and our neighbors, worship together, etc.; all so the gospel can spread because God "desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth." And, Christian, we can do that no matter what government we have. As Paul says in 1 Co. 15:3-5, what is of absolute first importance is the good news of Christ's death and resurrection. At this time and at all times, the world needs the gospel more than anything else. Please, bring the world back to that over and over again. There is only one Savior, one Lord, one Master, and one Hope, and that is Jesus Christ. The world needs to see Him always but especially in hard times. Display that hope before the world, keep the gospel central, and then be ready to explain that hope to those who see it in you.

By His Grace,
Taylor

Why Have You Forsake Me?

Yesterday was Maundy Thursday, which is the Thursday before Easter. It is the Thursday where many Christians around the world commemorate Christ's last night with His disciples and His suffering and death before the Sunday when we will celebrate His resurrection. At this time last year, I had the privilege of preaching at my church's Maundy Thursday service, and my text was Psalm 22. It might seem strange at first to use an Old Testament text to commemorate the suffering and death of Christ, but this text is a prophetic text--one that describes David's suffering in figurative terms which will be literal for Jesus. Here is a portion of the sermon:

It’s no accident, I think, that this psalm is followed by Ps. 23. It’s no accident that a psalm that expresses profound feelings of complete abandonment is follow by a psalm that emphasizes God’s presence even in the valley of the shadow of death. We can move from Ps. 22 straight into Ps. 23 because our Savior experienced the full punishment of hell that we deserved on the cross. Because He cried out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” when we feel forsaken, we can pray with utter confidence “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” What is described in Ps. 22 may feel like what we go through sometimes in our lives, but the last movement of the cross of Christ shows us that it is only a feeling because it was real for Jesus. And, the very last bar of the third movement of this psalm—“he has done it”—points us to the fulfillment of the very last bar of the final, fourth movement that Jesus wrote: “It is finished.”

If you would like to hear the rest of the sermon, you can listen to it here or read the transcript here. I pray that on this Good Friday, the Holy Spirit will use it to magnify Christ in your heart and mind to the glory of God.

By His Grace,
Taylor

God as Father: Lessons I Learned as a Dad (Part 3)

A few months ago I began a blog series that will be irregular (at best) on lessons I have learned from being a dad about God being our heavenly Father--i.e. what it means for God to be our Father, how that impacts our lives, our relationship with Him as our Father, etc. I have learned quite a bit since I became a dad because the father-child relationship analogy that the Scriptures use has become so much more real to me. Well, recently I have been thinking about another aspect of God's fatherhood and our relationship to Him.

My son Gabriel is almost three now, and that means he is in the stage commonly known as "terrible twos," which should really be "terrible twos and threes or maybe even fours." That means that Gabriel is beginning to understand more and more how he is individual with a will of his own and he is desiring to assert his autonomy more and more. Of course, every parent out there knows what is coming next: tantrums. Gabriel now knows what he wants, knows that he is an individual, and knows he does not want to be told what to do, which means we see a lot of tantrums. This is actually part of their developmental process and is a good sign in the grand scheme of mental and emotional development, though it sometimes feels like hell on earth for parents.

This past weekend, for example, we took him to two Halloween activities in our city on Saturday, and at both there was lots of candy, which is what one would expect. Well, we, of course, try to limit his sugar intake, but depending on the day and activity, we might bend the rules a little and let him have more than he normally would. And, we did that Saturday, letting him have a little more candy than normally we would. That, however, was not enough. At a local church's festivities, we cut off the candy because he had had more than enough and we were about to go home and have dinner, and all of a sudden his world went from being loads of fun to a tragedy that in his mind would rival Oedipus' discovery that the oracle at Delphi had been right all along. And, while he did not attempt to gouge out his eyes, the screaming and crying certainly made it sound like he had.

Such tantrums are common in our life right now, and my "gut" responses vary. Sometimes the tantrums are so over-the-top ridiculous that it is all I can do not to laugh. Often they are frustrating, trying my patience to its limits. Most of the time there is mixed in with other emotions a sense of loving pity--pity because he does not understand all the things involved in denying what he thinks he needs, pity because I do not like seeing him sad, pity because I am trying to do what is best for him and he does not understand, pity because his immaturity is making him overreact. Lately these tantrums have also been humbling for me personally, which may seem like an odd response, but allow me to explain.

In my prayer life, there are times when I "vent" to God about things going on and my opinion of how my life is going. Now, those types of prayers are not necessarily bad or sinful because He wants to know what is on our hearts and He knows them anyway. And, certainly honesty with God in our prayer lives is something we need to develop. But, there are times where my "venting" is really just a "grownup" way of describing a tantrum. When I look at Gabriel with pity while in the midst of a tantrum, lately I have thought, "God, is this what I look like to You when I vent in my prayers? Do I look like a child rolling on the ground screaming because I did not get my way?" I am pretty sure I know the answer to those questions, and I do not like it.

I think that is probably the case much of the time. Even though I might veil it in "grownup" language and might not be screaming while rolling on the floor, sometimes it is about the same thing--I am upset because I cannot understand why God is not doing something the way I think that it should be done, and I doing whatever it takes to convince Him that my way is better. It may not involve stomping and screaming, but it is not really any better than a tantrum. Yet, at the same time, when I think, "God, is this what I look like?" I also think "Wow, you are so patient, kind, and loving to me to put up with this." With a toddler, we can cut him some slack because he has not learned how to deal with his emotions properly, but I have no such excuses. And, yet, if I--a sinner and sub-par father--respond with loving pity, how much more does God as my heavenly Father do that for me?

If I am moved with pity because Gabriel does not understand all the things involved in denying what he thinks he needs, then how much more is that true of God? The gap between God's knowledge and my own is far greater than the gap between my knowledge and Gabriel's--I am much less than a toddler in my knowledge compared to God. As the LORD says in Isaiah, "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." If I am moved with pity because I do not like to see Gabriel hurt, how much more is that true of my heavenly Father who loves me perfectly? Of course, just like I know it is sometimes necessary for Gabriel to experience disappointment for his own good, so He knows that sometimes it is necessary for His good plan for me. Yet, even though it is necessary, it does not mean He does not experience fatherly sympathy for His confused and hurting child. If I am moved with pity because Gabriel does not understand that I am trying to do what is best for him, how much more is that true of my heavenly Father who always works all things for my good? My wisdom (as limited as it is) far exceeds Gabriel's, and, indeed, Gabriel would not throw a tantrum if he knew what I knew. Well, the same can be said of us. God's wisdom far, far, far exceeds our own, and God always answers our prayers in the way we would have them answered if we knew everything He knew and were as wise as Him. But, just as Gabriel does not understand because his knowledge and wisdom are limited, so I do not understand because my knowledge and wisdom are limited. So, my heavenly Father looks upon me with loving pity and says, "My child, you do not understand, but please trust me, for I love you more than you love your own son." And, if I am moved with pity for Gabriel because his immaturity causes him to overreact, how much more is that true of our loving and understanding heavenly Father? Immaturity does not, of course, excuse Gabriel's reaction and neither does it excuse my "grownup" tantrums, but it does move me to fatherly compassion for my son, and I think the same is true of our heavenly Father.

At the end of the day, I still need to do what is best for Gabriel, as God does for me, but thinking about how much I--a very imperfect father--am moved with love, compassion, and pity for my son makes me so thankful for my heavenly Father who is the perfect Father. If I can respond in love and compassion to my son, most certainly God does to me. Even when I throw a tantrum, He looks upon me with fatherly love because He has adopted me and loved me perfectly in Christ.

There is, of course, another side to this: how I would like Gabriel to respond. I know Gabriel cannot understand many of the decisions Erika and I make concerning him, but I would like him to respond by saying, "You know dad, I don't get it, but I know you love me, so I trust you." Obviously that is pipe dream for Gabriel. Every day Erika and I care for him, feed him, clothe him, love him, give him experiences, and so much more, but when what he thinks he "needs" is challenged, he forgets all that. He so easily forgets how much love we have shown him, so trust in those times is hard. But, am I really any different when it comes to my relationship to God--my heavenly Father? Throughout my life God has provided for me, proved Himself faithful over and over again, and never let me down, and yet when what I think I "need" is challenged, I forget all that too. I bet my heavenly Father would like me to say, "You know Dad, I don't get it, but I know You love me, so I trust You."

That is what the Psalms do. Do you know what the most common type of psalm in the book of Psalms is? It is not the hymns, the confidence psalms or the wisdom psalms. It is not the thanksgiving psalms or psalms of remembrance. It is the laments. There are more psalms of lament than any other type of psalm. These psalms express intense sadness, suffering, and confusion about life, and there are more of them than any other type. That alone should tell us something about the Christian life: God's people experience real suffering and pain often. But, the psalms of lament have a characteristic to them that keeps them from descending into "grownup" tantrums.

These psalms (e.g. Ps 13, 22, 26, 42-44, 74, 77, 79, 88, 102, 130, 143) almost always follow a very important structure. They begin with an invocation to God for help. Then, there is a complaint section that may lead to a plea for help, confession of sin, or cry for vindication. And, then, most importantly, all but one of them end with confident praise to God. For example, Ps. 13 ends with:

⁵ But I have trusted in your steadfast love;
    my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
⁶ I will sing to the Lord,
    because he has dealt bountifully with me.

In this psalm, David has not seen any resolution between the beginning and the end, but even when he complains and cries out for God to act, he does not forget what is true about God. Even though it does not feel that way to him, he reminds himself of the truth.

I think we can learn something about how we should pray when confused or in pain from these psalms. It is okay for us to pour out our hearts to God and cry out to Him in pain and confusion. In fact, it is good for us to do so, but when we do that, we must never act arrogantly towards God--thinking we know better--or question His character--accusing Him of wrongdoing. The psalms of lament always ground their complaint in the goodness of God and then come back to that goodness with faith at the end, even when everything in the life of the psalmist seems to testify to the contrary. The psalms of lament combine honest, intense expressions of grief with truthful, biblical, faithful reminders of who God really is.

When we pray and "vent" like that, then we are not throwing a "grownup" tantrum but are doing exactly what we want our children to do: saying, "Dad, I don't get it, but I know You love me, so I trust You." That is a righteous lament; not a toddler tantrum.

By His Grace,
Taylor

Exodus: A Great Salvation -- Preparation

About two weeks ago, I began a blog series on the story of the exodus from a summer sermon series, and in last week's sermon, we saw God beginning to set up His great salvation in ch. 1 and first part of ch. 2. One of the things we saw is that God is hardly mentioned at all in the first two chapters, even though things are bad. In fact, even with our passage for today—Ex. 2:11ff—He doesn’t come into the story until the last verse of ch. 2. Things get worse and worse throughout these first two chapters, and if we were reading this for the first time, even knowing that God’s working as we saw last week, we might ask, “What’s going on? What are you doing, God?”

Have you ever asked that question of God before? Maybe you feel like God has called you to do something—a job, marriage, children, reconciliation, etc.—and you’re almost certain of it, but then roadblock after roadblock keeps getting thrown up in your path? Have you ever cried out to God like Habakkuk does in the second verse of his book: “O LORD, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear?” About two and half years ago, I was driving through the city of Atlanta on my way to a presbytery meeting of our denomination south of the city. I lived north of the city and with traffic, it was going to take me a couple of hours, so I had some time to kill. Yet, I was not really interested in listening to music or a podcast. I was feeling really discouraged, and I wasn’t really in the mood to listen to anything. Instead, I was mulling over the past year and a half in my mind. You see, I had been a graduate for seminary for almost year at that point, and I had been searching for a pastoral call for about six months longer than that. As I thought it over in my mind, I realized that only two churches had really shown much interested in me at all and that had been a year earlier. I realized that I had gone to a General Assembly of the PCA and two presbytery meetings as a seminary graduate without a call, and I was on my way to the third in that same state. And, about a week earlier, the last member of my graduating class from RTS to be without a ministry job found one… the last member except for me, that is. When I finally made it to the church at which our presbytery meeting was being held, I sat in my car for a little while, not wanting to go in because I was too embarrassed. Everyone there knew my situation: I was an interim pastor for a small congregation at the time, yes, but that would end soon, and still no one was even remotely interested in me for a permanent position, so I felt like a failure. Add to that the fact that Gabriel was a few months old and Erika was having to work full time because my position didn’t pay much, so I felt like a failure as a father and a husband, and everyone in that meeting knew what was going on. I was trying to pray to get up enough courage to walk in, but all I could think was, “What are You doing, God? Am I not called to be a pastor?”

Well, by the end of our passage, it would not surprise me at all if Moses and the Hebrew people were thinking the same thing: “What are you doing, God?” Up until the last verse of ch. 2, things seem even bleaker than at the end of ch. 1—the savior is exiled and the oppression is getting worse for God’s people. Moses was probably wondering what God was doing, and the people were probably wondering that too. And, just looking at the passage on the surface, we might wonder the same thing: “What is God doing? What doesn’t He just act?”

If you want to hear the rest, you can listen to the sermon here or read the transcript here. I pray that the Holy Spirit will use it to magnify Christ in your heart and mind to the glory of God.

By His Grace,
Taylor

Exodus: A Great Salvation -- The Supreme Court, Exodus, and the Gospel

Note: This was written as a devotional for my congregation on June 26, the day the results of Obergefell v. Hodges were announced. So, it is a little behind; yet it still applies today.

So, anyone who has been on Facebook or kept an eye on the news for the past few hours probably knows by now that the Supreme Court ruled that States are required to license a marriage between two people of the same sex. And, of course, since then the Internet has exploded with articles and opinion pieces on this topic, which is not really surprising. So far, Russell Moore has a very good response "Why the church should neither cave nor panic about the decision on gay marriage." And, the Exodus story is relevant to the situation the Church is entering.

We do not need to cave or panic. Yes, this will likely mean more persecution for Christians in America as the ramifications of this decision play themselves out. But, let's sit back and take a historical perspective. Rarely has the true, invisible Church existed in an environment where the culture around them was not hostile to their beliefs (and Jesus warned us of this), and God has continued to sustain, love, and care for His Church in whatever environment they live. The Hebrew people had to learn this in Ex. 1-2, and the Church has learned it ever since. Persecution has never stopped God's people or the spread of the gospel. In fact, it has only served to fuel the spread. We have seen this in Ex. 1, the book of Acts, the Roman persecutions of the early Church, the Reformation, and even today in places like Africa, the Middle East, and Asia. And, this is because the life of the Church is not in our selves, our strength, or anything else from us at all. The life of the Church is the resurrection life of Christ, against which even the gates of hell cannot prevail. As Russell Moore said in the above article, "The Supreme Court can do many things, but the Supreme Court cannot get Jesus back in that tomb." Nothing can stop the Church, and Christ will continue to sustain and protect His Bride until He returns again to take her home.

And, speaking of home, that is another aspect of the Exodus story and our lives as the Church that we need to remember. Yes, this latest decision will likely mean greater persecution for us as a Church and as individuals, but that should remind us that the gospel shows us that this world is not our home. He. 11:26 tells us that Moses "considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward." Even Moses knew that the promises of God and the coming Redeemer were greater than all the treasures of Egypt. Why? Because he knew that this world is not his home. The "reward" towards which he was looking is told to us by the author of Hebrews in v. 16: "a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city." Moses and all of God's people have "a better country, that is, a heavenly one" coming--the new heavens and the new earth. Jesus, through His work of redemption, has secured for us a home that far surpasses this world in every category, and while we may suffer here for Christ because we stand with Him against our culture, as the gospel tells us, "The sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us." Yes, we may suffer in the future as the implications from today play themselves out, but that suffering should remind us that this world is not our home. We are strangers and foreigners here, exiles as Peter puts it, but that is only for a short time. America is not really our country but simply a place to sojourn for a while on this earth. We have "a better country, that is, a heavenly one" coming. Christ secured it; the gospel displays it.

Now, I know this might worry you, for even though we know that God will not let His Church die and that we have a better country coming, we still have to see our children grow up in a world hostile to the things we teach them. Yet, we must also remember here that to God our children are holy, and He loves them more than we do. Perhaps life will be hard for them--harder than it was for us--but instead of focusing on that hardship that will come, let's display before them confidence in God's sovereignty, and as we do, perhaps it will help us to live more free from worry. Let's show them that we know God has this country in His hands and the He turns the heart of the "king" however He chooses. Let's show them that He loves and cares for all His people, so much so that He knows how many hairs are on our heads and when one falls He knows (a reality for me that becomes more and more vivid with each passing year). Let's show them that Christ loves His Bride and sacrifices everything for her by living marriages that are sacrificial and serving before them. Or, if you are single, our children can still see quite clearly in your life that Jesus is more important and valuable than any relationship in this world, so please, show them that. Let's show them that we are looking forward to a better country and therefore God is not ashamed to be our God, even if our culture is ashamed to have us in it. Let's show them that the gospel is the true hope of every individual in this country and that they will never be satisfied until they drink of Christ, therefore we still need to be lights and salt for Him so that when the sexual revolution has left our culture bankrupt, the gospel is right there waiting for them. And, let's look forward explicitly to the new heavens and new earth, showing them that we long for that world which is our true and eternal home and that the sufferings of Christ are nothing in comparison. Perhaps as we display that in our homes and in our worship at church and fervently pray for the next generation of Christians, the stark contrast between a bankrupt culture and a full, life-giving gospel will sink down into their hearts, so much so that they will be the next generation that carries the spreading of God's kingdom forward, for His glory and our good.

By His Grace,
Taylor

Solus Christus: The God Who Heals

The God who personally became man for us—the prophet, priest, king, judge, shepherd, and suffering servant—is also the God who heals the weak and the hurting. For today’s Advent devotion we again look to a prophecy about the Messiah in the book of Isaiah:

¹ Behold my servant, whom I uphold,
    my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
I have put my Spirit upon him;
    he will bring forth justice to the nations.
² He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice,
    or make it heard in the street;
³ a bruised reed he will not break,
    and a faintly burning wick he will not quench;
    he will faithfully bring forth justice.
⁴ He will not grow faint or be discouraged
    till he has established justice in the earth;
    and the coastlands wait for his law. (Is. 42:1-4)

Matthew tells us in Mt. 12:15-21 that Jesus fulfilled this prophecy too. Jesus came to earth and suffered, so that He could identify with us in our suffering and heal our suffering (cf. He. 2:10-18). Have you ever confessed a sin to another Christian, admitted a doubt to another believer, or expressed the pain of your heart to another child of God, only to have them condemn you for that sin, doubt, or pain? That’s called breaking a “bruised reed.” The Church is made up of a bunch of imperfect, sinful, and at-times-judgmental people, which means all of us will at one time or another break a “bruised reed” or quench a “faintly burning wick.” But, we never have to worry about that from our Savior. He will “faithfully bring forth justice” without breaking the bruised reeds like you and me. In fact, He will heal the bruised reeds by forgiving our sins, casting our doubts, and comforting us in our pain.

This doesn’t mean all our diseases will be healed; this doesn’t mean we won’t experience heartache in this world. It doesn’t mean we won’t at times suffer the consequences of our sins in this world or be scolded for our doubt (cf. Mt. 14:31). It does mean that when we’re bruised, He won’t make it worse but He’ll care for us until we’re healed. When we’re barely burning, He won’t quench us but He’ll love for us until we’re burning with His love again. This is why Jesus says to believers, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” And, soon He will return to take us into the new heavens and new earth where there will be no pain, no crying, no sin, and no death (Re. 21:1-4). That’s what the suffering servant secured for His people by becoming man. That’s why we can celebrate Christmas.

Today let Advent remind you that Jesus is gentle with His people. Let God’s promises about His Messiah remind you that you can go to Him with your doubts, sins, and pains and never worry about being rejected, despised, or crushed because He was rejected, despised, and crushed for you (cf. Is. 53:1-12). Unfortunately, because we’re all still sinful people, we can’t say that for certain about anyone in this world. We can’t say beyond the shadow of a doubt that another human won’t reject us, but we can say with absolute certainty that Jesus won’t reject any who come to Him in faith. Remember that you can always go to Him and He’ll always love you. I know this to be true because He became like you and died for you.

By His Grace,

Taylor

Solus Christus: The Suffering Servant

Yesterday we saw that Jesus is the good Shepherd who is so good and who loved His sheep so much that He laid down His life for them. This was God’s plan for Him from foundation of the world (cf. Re. 13:8). That means that many of God’s prophecies about Jesus are not going to be happy prophecies because they will tell of His death. One of the saddest tells us that the Servant—the Messiah—will be a suffering servant:

¹ Who has believed what he has heard from us?
    And to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed?
² For he grew up before him like a young plant,
    and like a root out of dry ground;
he had no form or majesty that we should look at him,
    and no beauty that we should desire him.
³ He was despised and rejected by men;
    a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
    he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
⁴ Surely he has borne our griefs
    and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
    smitten by God, and afflicted.
⁵ But he was pierced for our transgressions;
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
    and with his wounds we are healed.
⁶ All we like sheep have gone astray;
    we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all.
⁷ He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
    yet he opened not his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,
    and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,
    so he opened not his mouth.
⁸ By oppression and judgment he was taken away;
    and as for his generation, who considered
that he was cut off out of the land of the living,
    stricken for the transgression of my people?
⁹ And they made his grave with the wicked
    and with a rich man in his death,
although he had done no violence,
    and there was no deceit in his mouth.
¹⁰ Yet it was the will of the LORD to crush him;
    he has put him to grief;
when his soul makes an offering for guilt,
    he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days;
the will of the LORD shall prosper in his hand.
¹¹ Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied;
by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant,
    make many to be accounted righteous,
    and he shall bear their iniquities.
¹² Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many,
    and he shall divide the spoil with the strong,
because he poured out his soul to death
    and was numbered with the transgressors;
yet he bore the sin of many,
    and makes intercession for the transgressors. (Is. 53:1-12)

He was despised, rejected, pierced, bruised, and God laid on Him our iniquities. Indeed, it was “the will of the Lord to crush him.” That was the plan for the incarnation of Jesus. It was the plan when God the Father commissioned God the Son to take on the work of redemption (cf. Is. 49), and Jesus willingly took on that responsibility. He willingly came into the world knowing that God the Father’s wrath against the sin of believers would only be satisfied by the “anguish of his soul.”

The Westminster Shorter Catechism calls this the “humiliation” of Christ. It asks in question #27, “Wherein did Christ’s humiliation consist?” and it answers, “Christ’s humiliation consisted in His being born, and that in a low condition, made under the law, undergoing the miseries of this life, the wrath of God, and the cursed death of the cross; in being buried, and continuing under the power of death for a time.” Even becoming man was part of this suffering that Jesus was commissioned by God to take. Coming into this world was how he was “numbered with the transgressors” even though He Himself was perfect. The incarnation, the glorious event that we celebrate at Christmas, was a humiliation for Jesus, but it was one that He willingly accepted for the sake of His people. Paul tells us that Jesus “emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.” He willingly gave up the glorious riches of heaven and became one of us. Indeed, not just one of us but a servant for us. He voluntarily subjected Himself to the miseries of this life by leaving the perfection of heaven and being born of Mary. Paul also calls this the grace of Jesus: “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you by His poverty might become rich.” This is the true meaning of Christmas—that Jesus became poor and suffered so we, by His poverty and suffering, might become rich.

Today let Advent remind you of the suffering Jesus endured so that “we might become the righteousness of God.” Remember that even becoming human was a humiliation for Him and part of His suffering. Let Advent remind you of the intensity of and depth of the love that led Jesus to do this for His people. When you celebrate Christmas, do rejoice in the fact that our Lord became man, but also remember that in order to do so the King of the universe had to “[empty] himself, by taking the form of a servant.” Never forget that Jesus knows what it’s like to suffer in this world. (Indeed, He suffered in ways we could never imagine.) Never forget that “we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.” Ask Him to work these truths into your heart so that you want to show Him how thankful you are with every part of your life.

By His Grace,
Taylor

The Incarnation

Over the Christmas break, I had the privilege of preaching a short series of sermons before my home church. It was a brief, three-part series on a few of the results of the incarnation of Jesus into this world. They are posted on my sermons page, and you can also access them below:

The Incarnation (Advent Series 2013)
Date:	Title:	Scripture:	Recording:	Transcript:
Dec. 29, 2013	The Incarnation: Unshakable Hope	Ro. 5:1-5	MP3	PDF
Dec. 22, 2013	The Incarnation: A Merciful Priest	He. 2:14-18	MP3	PDF
Dec. 15, 2013	The Incarnation: Victorious Light	Jn. 1:1-14	MP3	PDF

I pray that God will use them to magnify His glory in your heart and encourage you.

By His Grace,
Taylor

Solus Christus: The God Who Heals

The God who personally became man for us—the prophet, priest, king, judge, shepherd, and suffering servant—is also the God who heals the weak and the hurting. For today’s Advent devotion we again look to a prophecy about the Messiah in the book of Isaiah:

¹ Behold my servant, whom I uphold,
    my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
I have put my Spirit upon him;
    he will bring forth justice to the nations.
² He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice,
    or make it heard in the street;
³ a bruised reed he will not break,
    and a faintly burning wick he will not quench;
    he will faithfully bring forth justice.
⁴ He will not grow faint or be discouraged
    till he has established justice in the earth;
    and the coastlands wait for his law. (Is. 42:1-4)

Matthew tells us in Mt. 12:15-21 that Jesus fulfilled this prophecy too. Jesus came to earth and suffered, so that He could identify with us in our suffering and heal our suffering (cf. He. 2:10-18). Have you ever confessed a sin to another Christian, admitted a doubt to another believer, or expressed the pain of your heart to another child of God, only to have them condemn you for that sin, doubt, or pain? That’s called breaking a “bruised reed.” The Church is made up of a bunch of imperfect, sinful, and at-times-judgmental people, which means all of us will at one time or another break a “bruised reed” or quench a “faintly burning wick.” But, we never have to worry about that from our Savior. He will “faithfully bring forth justice” without breaking the bruised reeds like you and me. In fact, He will heal the bruised reeds by forgiving our sins, casting our doubts, and comforting us in our pain.

This doesn’t mean all our diseases will be healed; this doesn’t mean we won’t experience heartache in this world. It doesn’t mean we won’t at times suffer the consequences of our sins in this world or be scolded for our doubt (cf. Mt. 14:31). It does mean that when we’re bruised, He won’t make it worse but He’ll care for us until we’re healed. When we’re barely burning, He won’t quench us but He’ll love for us until we’re burning with His love again. This is why Jesus says to believers, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” And, soon He will return to take us into the new heavens and new earth where there will be no pain, no crying, no sin, and no death (Re. 21:1-4). That’s what the suffering servant secured for His people by becoming man. That’s why we can celebrate Christmas.

Today let Advent remind you that Jesus is gentle with His people. Let God’s promises about His Messiah remind you that you can go to Him with your doubts, sins, and pains and never worry about being rejected, despised, or crushed because He was rejected, despised, and crushed for you (cf. Is. 53:1-12). Unfortunately, because we’re all still sinful people, we can’t say that for certain about anyone in this world. We can’t say beyond the shadow of a doubt that another human won’t reject us, but we can say with absolute certainty that Jesus won’t reject any who come to Him in faith. Remember that you can always go to Him and He’ll always love you. I know this to be true because He became like you and died for you.

By His Grace,

Taylor

Solus Christus: The Suffering Servant

Yesterday we saw that Jesus is the good Shepherd who is so good and who loved His sheep so much that He laid down His life for them. This was God’s plan for Him from foundation of the world (cf. Re. 13:8). That means that many of God’s prophecies about Jesus are not going to be happy prophecies because they will tell of His death. One of the saddest tells us that the Servant—the Messiah—will be a suffering servant:

¹ Who has believed what he has heard from us?
    And to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed?
² For he grew up before him like a young plant,
    and like a root out of dry ground;
he had no form or majesty that we should look at him,
    and no beauty that we should desire him.
³ He was despised and rejected by men;
    a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
    he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
⁴ Surely he has borne our griefs
    and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
    smitten by God, and afflicted.
⁵ But he was pierced for our transgressions;
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
    and with his wounds we are healed.
⁶ All we like sheep have gone astray;
    we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all.
⁷ He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
    yet he opened not his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,
    and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,
    so he opened not his mouth.
⁸ By oppression and judgment he was taken away;
    and as for his generation, who considered
that he was cut off out of the land of the living,
    stricken for the transgression of my people?
⁹ And they made his grave with the wicked
    and with a rich man in his death,
although he had done no violence,
    and there was no deceit in his mouth.
¹⁰ Yet it was the will of the LORD to crush him;
    he has put him to grief;
when his soul makes an offering for guilt,
    he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days;
the will of the LORD shall prosper in his hand.
¹¹ Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied;
by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant,
    make many to be accounted righteous,
    and he shall bear their iniquities.
¹² Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many,
    and he shall divide the spoil with the strong,
because he poured out his soul to death
    and was numbered with the transgressors;
yet he bore the sin of many,
    and makes intercession for the transgressors. (Is. 53:1-12)

He was despised, rejected, pierced, bruised, and God laid on Him our iniquities. Indeed, it was “the will of the Lord to crush him.” That was the plan for the incarnation of Jesus. It was the plan when God the Father commissioned God the Son to take on the work of redemption (cf. Is. 49), and Jesus willingly took on that responsibility. He willingly came into the world knowing that God the Father’s wrath against the sin of believers would only be satisfied by the “anguish of his soul.”

The Westminster Shorter Catechism calls this the “humiliation” of Christ. It asks in question #27, “Wherein did Christ’s humiliation consist?” and it answers, “Christ’s humiliation consisted in His being born, and that in a low condition, made under the law, undergoing the miseries of this life, the wrath of God, and the cursed death of the cross; in being buried, and continuing under the power of death for a time.” Even becoming man was part of this suffering that Jesus was commissioned by God to take. Coming into this world was how he was “numbered with the transgressors” even though He Himself was perfect. The incarnation, the glorious event that we celebrate at Christmas, was a humiliation for Jesus, but it was one that He willingly accepted for the sake of His people. Paul tells us that Jesus “emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.” He willingly gave up the glorious riches of heaven and became one of us. Indeed, not just one of us but a servant for us. He voluntarily subjected Himself to the miseries of this life by leaving the perfection of heaven and being born of Mary. Paul also calls this the grace of Jesus: “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you by His poverty might become rich.” This is the true meaning of Christmas—that Jesus became poor and suffered so we, by His poverty and suffering, might become rich.

Today let Advent remind you of the suffering Jesus endured so that “we might become the righteousness of God.” Remember that even becoming human was a humiliation for Him and part of His suffering. Let Advent remind you of the intensity of and depth of the love that led Jesus to do this for His people. When you celebrate Christmas, do rejoice in the fact that our Lord became man, but also remember that in order to do so the King of the universe had to “[empty] himself, by taking the form of a servant.” Never forget that Jesus knows what it’s like to suffer in this world. (Indeed, He suffered in ways we could never imagine.) Never forget that “we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.” Ask Him to work these truths into your heart so that you want to show Him how thankful you are with every part of your life.

By His Grace,
Taylor

In Our Pain, Jesus Crosses Over

"Jesus comes in side death, inside where Mary weeps. 'If only you'd been there,' we say, grieving over our private hurts and reaching out to anyone who will listen. And just there, Jesus crosses over." ~ Thomas Gardner, John in the Company of Poets

This Sunday, I have the privilege and pleasure of preaching before my church. The passage on which I have based my sermon is John 11--Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. This is such a long, detailed, and rich story that I cannot bring out everything it could say. So, for the sake of time (and the congregation), I am going focus on one of John's major emphases in this story: love. Unfortunately, that means on Sunday I have to skip the portion of the passage where Jesus weeps with Mary and Martha, which shows us such a profound and important aspect of our Savior. But, there is nothing to stop me from writing about it here.

If you do not know the story or remember the details, go ahead and go read John 11. This story is the final, climactic sign (miracle) of John's gospel that shows Jesus to be God in the flesh--Lord over life and death. It also emphasizes Jesus' deep love for Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. In the beginning, the sisters send a message to Jesus informing Him of Lazarus' grave illness because they know how much Jesus loves him. They think that His love will compel Him to come quickly to heal Lazarus, but Jesus has something else in mind--something more loving--so He waits and allows Lazarus to die (cf. Jn. 11:5-6). (More on this to come Sunday.)

When He arrives in Bethany, the sisters express profound confusion and pain. They had waited almost a week, and Jesus had not shown up. They had put all their hopes for their brother on Jesus, and Jesus had not given them what they wanted. And, they both said to Him, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." (Jn. 11:21, 32) Mary and Martha were both trying to make sense of a traumatic situation and Jesus' response to it. They cannot fathom why He would let Lazarus die. And, we do that too sometimes, right? "Lord, why didn't you heal my friend from cancer? Jesus, why didn't I get that job I really needed? Jesus, why am I still alone? Lord, why is my child suffering? Why didn't You come quickly?" Now, those kinds of statements do not necessarily come from a lack of faith. Oftentimes they are simply cries of confusion and pain when we really have no idea how to respond. They are much like the questions many of the psalmists ask: "Why, O LORD, do you stand far away? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?" "O LORD, why do you cast my soul away? Why do you hide your face from me?"

So, how does Jesus respond to us? Well, we know that He raises Lazarus, but how does He respond while they wait for Him to act? He does two things: 1) He reminds them of who He is and 2) He weeps with them. In response to Martha, Jesus says, "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die." (Jn. 11:25-26) He reminds her that He is Lord over life and death; that He is Ruler over everything, even our last enemy: death (cf. 1 Co. 15:26). And, Jesus does this with us too, right? He has given us His Word, and when we turn to it in times of trouble, we can see how much He loves His people and the glorious things He has done for them. When we turn to it in hardship, we can see that He is in control of our situation (cf. Eph. 1:11) and working good out of it (Ro. 8:28). He has also given us the Church. We hear the truth of who He is when the Word is preached, and we hear the truth of who He is from our brothers and sisters in Christ. We need those because in times of hardship, it is difficult to remember the truth, much less believe it. We need to read the truth of who He is in His Word and hear it from His people.

That is not all that Jesus does, however. In response to Mary, He weeps. He does not sit outside our pain in sovereign apathy. He does not simply give us propositions about His power. We look to Him with tears and say, "If only you had been there," and "just there, Jesus crosses over." He sees His Bride suffering, and He enters into the pain with her. In this story, certainly, Jesus knows He is about to raise Lazarus. That was His plan all along (cf. Jn. 11:4). Even in our suffering, He knows the good He is going to work out of it. Knowing the end, however, does not mean He sits on the sideline as an impassioned observer. He "crosses over" and weeps with us. Now, in this story, He does not weep because of His loss, for, again, He knows the end. He weeps because He sees the pain that sin and death have cause those whom He loves. So it is with us. Even though He knows the end, He "crosses over" into the pain and weeps with His Bride. Sometimes He does it through an unexplainable comfort worked in us by the Spirit. Sometimes He does it through the ministrations of a friend who sits and weeps with us. Whatever the ways, He "crosses over."

Friends, if you are in Christ, you have a Savior who is both sovereign over your problems and understands your pain. He is not just a Savior who is in control. That would make Him powerful but indifferent. He is also not just a Savior who understands our pain. That would make Him empathetic but impotent. He is sovereign and weeps with us. This is what He does for us--those whom He loves--while we wait for Him to act, and we need both of those while we grieve and wait. Here, in John 11, we see that Jesus has both, which makes Him the perfect Savior.

By His Grace,
Taylor

Advent: Day 12

The God who became man, the suffering servant, for us is also the God who heals the weak and the hurting. Again, today we are in Isaiah:

¹ Behold my servant, whom I uphold,
    my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
I have put my Spirit upon him;
    he will bring forth justice to the nations.
² He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice,
    or make it heard in the street;
³ a bruised reed he will not break,
    and a faintly burning wick he will not quench;
    he will faithfully bring forth justice.
⁴ He will not grow faint or be discouraged
    till he has established justice in the earth;
    and the coastlands wait for his law. (Is. 42:1-4)

Matthew tells us in Mt. 12:15-21 that Jesus fulfilled this prophecy too. Jesus came to earth and suffered, so that He could heal our suffering. This doesn't mean all our diseases will be heal, this doesn't mean we will not experience heartache in this world. It does mean that when we are bruised, He will care for us and not let us break. When we are barely burning, He will care for us and not let us be snuffed out. This is why Jesus says to us, "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." (Mt. 11:28) And, soon He will return to take us into the new heavens and new earth where there will be no pain, no crying, no sin, and no death (Re. 21:1-4). That is what the suffering servant secured for His people by becoming man. This is why we can and should celebrate Christmas.

By His Grace,
Taylor

Advent: Day 11

Yesterday we looked at the Great Commission given by the Father to the Son. In it, the Father commits the Son to die for His people and the Son takes that commission. That means that many of the prophecies about Jesus are not going to be happy prophecies. One of the saddest tells us that the Servant—the Messiah—will be a suffering servant:

¹ Who has believed what he has heard from us?
    And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?
² For he grew up before him like a young plant,
    and like a root out of dry ground;
he had no form or majesty that we should look at him,
    and no beauty that we should desire him.
³ He was despised and rejected by men;
    a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
    he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
⁴ Surely he has borne our griefs
    and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
    smitten by God, and afflicted.
⁵ But he was pierced for our transgressions;
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
    and with his wounds we are healed.
⁶ All we like sheep have gone astray;
    we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all.
⁷ He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
    yet he opened not his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,
    and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,
    so he opened not his mouth.
⁸ By oppression and judgment he was taken away;
    and as for his generation, who considered
that he was cut off out of the land of the living,
    stricken for the transgression of my people?
⁹ And they made his grave with the wicked
    and with a rich man in his death,
although he had done no violence,
    and there was no deceit in his mouth.
¹⁰ Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him;
    he has put him to grief;
when his soul makes an offering for guilt,
    he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days;
the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.
¹¹ Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied;
by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant,
    make many to be accounted righteous,
    and he shall bear their iniquities.
¹² Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many,
    and he shall divide the spoil with the strong,
because he poured out his soul to death
    and was numbered with the transgressors;
yet he bore the sin of many,
    and makes intercession for the transgressors. (Is. 53:1-12)

He was despised, rejected, pierced, bruised, and God laid on Him our iniquities. That was the plan for the incarnation of Jesus. It was the plan when God the Father commission God the Son (Is. 49), and Jesus willingly took on the responsibility.

The Westminster Shorter Catechism calls this the "humiliation" of Christ. It asks in question #27, "Wherein did Christ's humiliation consist?" and it answers, "Christ's humiliation consisted in His being born, and that in a low condition, made under the law, undergoing the miseries of this life, the wrath of God, and the cursed death of the cross; in being buried, and continuing under the power of death for a time." Even becoming man was part of this suffering that Jesus was commissioned by God to take. The incarnation, the glorious event that we celebrate at Christmas, was a humiliation for Jesus. Paul tells us that Jesus "emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men." (Php. 2:5-11) He gave up the glorious riches of heaven and became one of us, and not just one of us but a servant for us. He voluntarily subjected Himself to the miseries of this life, leaving the perfection of heaven. Paul also calls this the grace of Jesus: "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you by His poverty might become rich." (2 Co. 8:9) This is the true meaning of Christmas—that Jesus became poor so we, by His poverty, might become rich.

By His Grace,
Taylor