I spent a lot of years of my life growing in my view of myself. I spent a lot of years genuinely believing (and interacting with others) as if I was somehow better than the average person. Of course it wasn’t conscious, but it was always there. And to a certain extent, it still is. But one of the ways God’s grace has been active in my life this past year has been his allowing me to fail.

I’ve failed in my marriage. I’ve failed in my fathering. I’ve failed in my friendships. I’ve failed at keeping my word. I’ve failed in my sanctification. I’ve failed in my preaching and pastoring. I’ve failed in my walk with God. And not just once, either. I’m often impatient, frequently grouchy or melancholy, often motivated by the fear of people rather than the fear of God, and most days I’m more thrilled by ‘stuff’ than by communion with the Creator. And I’m a pastor.

Hear me, though: I know that even in this, I’m not unique. Other people fail too — and some fail worse than me! I’m not thinking in any of this that I’m the worst human on the planet; but that’s partly the point. I’m not even impressive as a sinner. I’m honestly just an average guy in a crowd, with very little that makes me stand out.

That sounds depressing, doesn’t it? And it would be, if it wasn’t for this: Jesus Christ — the Son of God! — loved me and gave himself for me. He died for me, this average, often-failing, mediocre, inconsistent guy whose life is still so full of sin. And he doesn’t regret it.

This year, as I look back, I can see that as much the more I’ve grown unimpressed with myself, the more I’ve grown in my understanding of just how impressive Christ’s death for me was. He wasn’t dying for me as a diamond in the rough; I’m just a piece of the rough. But he died for me anyway. And isn’t that exactly how he has made his love known in the first place (Rom 5.6-8)?

So as I celebrate my birthday this year, I’m not discouraged by my failure, so much as I’m humbled by the love of Jesus, the source of life, who died for me. I’m humbled by the holy one who became sin for this slow-minded, stubborn-hearted sinner. He took the cross for an average guy like me. He loved me, and he loves me still. That is impressive. And it’s all my joy.

The cross is the place where my unimpressiveness and the unfathomable love of Jesus collide, resulting in an explosion of praise to the glory of his amazing grace. As long as I meditate on the cross, I’m bound to have a happy birthday.

Wesley Randolph Eader’s reflections on Calvary reflect something of my heart today:

Get the whole album, ‘Of Old It Was Recorded’, for free!

Of Old It Was Recorded

by Wesley Randolph Eader

Of old it was recorded and new it was begotten,
The Word became flesh and with authority he spoke
Light stepped into darkness against the laws of Moses
It finally was fulfilled by the example that he gave

And Calvary was meant for me: O my God, how can it be?
From sin and guilt I’ve been set free, He paid my price on that awful tree
His glory’s in my soul, it fills and overflows,
There’s nothing I’d rather know than the fullness of my sweet Saviour’s face…
than the fullness of my sweet Saviour’s face

Sins they were forgiven by words that he had spoken,
The sick and blind were healed by his blessed hand
His essence was conviction, the world could not contain him,
He suffered for their sake though they knew not what he did

And Calvary was meant for me…

His grace does not diminish, eternally it’s poured out,
His truth remains unfathomed and yet forever known
Salvation runs forever down the lonesome hillside
Where on that fateful day, the Son of Man was slain

And Calvary was meant for me…

Post from: Julian Freeman

Calvary was Meant for Me

Optimism: ”a disposition or tendency to look on the more favorable side of events or conditions and to expect the most favorable outcome.”

Was the Apostle Paul an optimist? For a guy who taught a lot about the depravity of the human heart, Paul sure seemed to take a pretty rosey view of life sometimes, didn’t he?

A ‘Church-is-Half-Full’ Kind of View?

Here’s a case in point: The church in Corinth. They were divided and dividing still, they valued fancy speech over sound doctrine, they had cases of publicly known immorality that were not being addressed, they were suing each other, they were leaving betrothed women unprovided for, fighting over food sacrificed to idols, arguing over whose spiritual gifts made them the most spiritually mature, leading chaotic worship services, and considering denying the resurrection. Seriously. And you thought your church was bad!

But think about how Paul addresses them:

I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that was given you in Christ Jesus, that in every way you were enriched in him in all speech and all knowledge — even as the testimony about Christ was confirmed among you — so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift… (1 Cor 1.4-6)

That sure sounds like a very optimistic, ‘glass-half-full’ kind of view of the church, doesn’t it? Is he just flattering them?

The furthest thing from being an optimist who chooses to ‘look on the more favorable side of events’ or a double-tongued flatterer who dabbles in deceit, Paul is speaking the truth boldly. He has something greater than optimism when it comes to the Corinthian church — as messed up as it is. Paul has hope. God-grounded, gospel-believing hope.

Look at how he continues to explain the reason for his hope:

… so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift, as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will sustain you to the end, guiltless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. (1 Cor 1.7-9)

Optimism vs. Hope

Optimism says, ‘I believe in you, Corinthians! Just keep believing in yourselves, keep working hard, if you keep dreaming then nothing will stop your achieving!’ But that’s hoogly. We all know it is inane nonsense to just ‘believe in yourself’ despite what you see and despite a track record of failure.

Gospel-hope says, ‘God is faithful. He called you. He’ll keep you.’ And do you know what? His résumé bears that out. He has never failed. We can have a firm and confident expectation that God will preserve his own people, who are called by his name, for this very reason: He has never failed yet. Not once.

Once you start to see this kind of firm hope despite the difficulties he faced, you’ll ending up seeing it everywhere. Hope permeates the pages of Paul’s writing.

In the midst of his bitter struggle with the heretical teaching in Galatia, he proclaims his hope:

I have confidence in the Lord that you will take no other view than mine, and the one who is troubling you will bear the penalty, whoever he is. (Galatians 5.10)

And to the Philippians he introduces his hope for them from the very beginning of the letter:

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. (Philippians 1.6)

This is not empty optimism, but faith that is fully placed on God, and hope that in the future God will still be God, and therefore his people will be blessed.

What about Your Church?

So let me ask you this: When you think about your church, how do you feel?

Sometimes I think we get discouraged when we see sin and failure in the church precisely because we’ve been operating in categories of optimism. If we just keep believing that people are good and everyone in the church will be good, then we will be let down. But the answer to that is not to look at those in your church with a pessimistic point of view either. Surely there is no joy to be found in the grouch-ball who just watches and waits for fellow church members to sin.

The answer, I believe is not optimism, but hope.

Hope is greater than optimism because it engages the reality of fallenness both outside and inside the church, but still clings to the power, goodness, and faithfulness of God to redeem his people. Hope says, ‘People will continue to sin, but God will continue to save. He will redeem and purify his own. The earth will be filled with his glory as the waters cover the sea’ (Hab 2.14).

Hope lives like that is true — even in your church. Because, yes, if God’s people are there, so is he. And he doesn’t change.

Post from: Julian Freeman

Hope > Optimism

That’s what struck me today around lunch time as I was walking to the school to pick up one of my daughters: I should be very happy. But as I thought about the disposition of my heart I found something quite different: I was sad. I wasn’t depressed or angry, and I wasn’t ready to weep or break down. There was just a kind of low-grade sad, disappointed mindset that was colouring all my thoughts and interactions.

I didn’t know what else to do, so I began to question myself in the fashion of Psalm 42-43:

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God. (Psalm 43.5)

What’s cool about this question is that it is actually drawing out the reasons for sadness, while at the same time challenging those reasons for sadness with timeless truth: God reigns, he saves, and I will praise him into the future. So in light of the truth that was (I’ve praised him before), the truth that is (he is still my salvation and my God), and the truth that will be (I will praise him again), are my reasons for sadness still justified?

My sadness today, I think, was grounded simply in the ‘stuff’ of life. I’m frustrated that I’m not getting enough done, I feel kind of sick, kind of tired, kind of grieved by some relationships, and overall just on the verge of feeling overwhelmed with life. It’s the same ‘stuff’ most people feel, I think, on a pretty regular basis.

Contemplating truth (like the truth about God from Psalm 43) in the midst of our sadness brings us to the battle for faith. Christians are not hearing those concepts of salvation and hope in God for the first time. It is simple truth that they already know — simple truth that I already know. But knowing and believing are two different things. So when I’m confronted with what I know, the question is simple: Will I believe it? Will I place my faith in this?

This is illustrated any number of times in the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ life. While many in the crowds knew that Jesus was capable of performing miracles, only some actually acted on that knowledge. They are the ones who lived a ‘get up and go to Jesus!’ kind of faith. Like the woman with the issue of blood (Mark 5.25-34): she knew that Jesus had the power to heal, so she ‘got up and went’. She acted on what she knew, by going to Jesus and venturing everything on a mere touch.

While Jesus rebukes the crowds for their lack of faith (Mark 9.19), those who get up and go to him hear words like this: ‘Your faith has made you well; go in peace’ (Mark 5.25).

So the question for me in common, everyday issues like feeling sad, is not, ‘What do I know?” but ‘What will I do with what I know?’ And ‘Will I sit back in the crowd and watch from a distance as others are blessed, or will I actually get up and go to him?’

This afternoon, by God’s grace, I’m able to say that whenever I’ve gone to him — even this morning — he has always been willing and able to help. Going to him, confessing my weak faith, pleading for mercy, and asking for the Applier of Truth to come work in my heart has made all the difference. May God give me — and you — grace to get up and go to him tomorrow again. And the next day. And every day after that.

He is the only one worth going to and the only one we will go to in our moments of need, if we are acting by faith.

Post from: Julian Freeman

The ‘Get Up and Go!’ Factor in Faith

Faith abandons hope in man’s own accomplishments, leaves all works behind, and comes to Christ alone and empty-handed, to cast itself on mercy. Such is the faith that saves.

But does this mean that saving faith throws a halo over idleness, and that the gospel of justification by faith only is really hostile to moral endeavour? Indeed not. ‘Faith is a lively thing,’ wrote Luther, ‘mighty in working, valiant and strong, ever doing, ever fruitful; so that it is impossible that he who is endued therewith should not work always good works without ceasing … for such is his nature.’

What saves is faith alone, but the faith that saves is never alone; it is always ‘working through love (Gal. 5:6), becoming a moral dynamic of unparalleled power in the believer’s life. The proof that a man’s faith is real is precisely this — that it makes him work. How does it do this? By making him feel the constraint of Christ’s love for him, and the greatness of the debt of gratitude which he owes to his God. As we said once before, Christian doctrine is grace, and Christian conduct is gratitude. The believer does not do what he does as a means to being justified, but there are no limits to what he will do for his Lord out of gratitude for the justification that he has received.

The paradoxical truth is that there is no ‘holiness teaching’ in the Bible that will so completely and powerfully transform a man’s life as the gospel of justification by faith alone. In a day of feeble churches and Christians, this is a truth worth pondering. ¹

And if it was applicable when he wrote these words (1981) it is even more so now.

Post from: Julian Freeman

Faith, Justification, Gratitude, and Action

A Good Pattern to Follow

When we planted Grace Fellowship Church Don Mills there was very little that we wanted to do differently from what we had seen. You might have been able to tell from the name that we chose (we were planted by another Grace Fellowship Church), but we firmly believed — and still believe — that the pattern that had been established for us was a good one.

That church prioritizes the word, exalts Christ, depends on God in prayer, worships him with authentic and theologically rich singing, and lives out some genuine New Testament fellowship. She is led by godly elders and served well by deacons that look an awful lot like Jesus in their Christ-like serving. All the essentials are there, so there really was very little to change when we planted.

That being said, we didn’t simply want to copy & paste, or go with a church-in-a-box mentality either, so we carefully investigated just about everything so that from top-to-bottom we were making sure that we weren’t just assuming essentials.

We wanted to act out of conviction, not convention.

Taking a Different Turn

One place where we decided to head in a different direction was in our Statement of Faith. While we believed (and still believe!) everything in the Statement of Faith from our planting church, we wanted something a little more. Our desire was twofold for our Statement of Faith:

1. We wanted something theologically robust that would lead to worship
2. We wanted something unoriginal that would connect us rather than separate us from the broader church

The first of those desires was met when we came across the Gospel Coalition’s Statement of Faith. With a few minor tweaks on the baptism issue, we adopted that Confessional Statement as our own. It is a robust statement that deals in biblical-theological categories and exalts God from beginning to end. The very first time I read it, I worshiped — and that’s exactly what we wanted.

The second of those desires was birthed in me when I first began reading the various Creeds, Confessions, and Statements of Faith of various churches and denominations. What I began to see is that many groups use their Statement of Faith to distinguish themselves from other Christians, rather than unite themselves to the historic and universal Church.

We were never smaller than when we first planted, but regardless of how big we grow we’ll never be significant enough as a church to stand on our own as anything. We are a part of something much bigger, much better that Jesus is building in his world. We are one small part of the universal Church and I wanted our Statement of Faith to unite us to that church and make us unspecial in the sense that we simply blend in with the broader church.

The Direction We Took

So here is what we did. It’s not anything super-special, but hopefully it helps the reader realize that we’re connected to the Church rather than disconnected from churches, by virtue of what we believe. We added this little preamble:

This church accepts the Holy Scriptures as the only supreme and complete authority in all matters of doctrine and practice. However, we also recognize that we stand as one small part in an historic movement known as the universal Church, which has, at times, written out succinct summaries of what we believe the Bible teaches. Such Confessions of Faith can be helpful in expressing those things we believe and also in uniting us together with our brothers and sisters through the ages.

We gladly stand in the line of the Ancient Church (the Apostle’s Creed and Nicene Creed), the Reformers (the Westminster Confession), and the early English Baptists (The First and Second London Baptist Confessions of 1644 and 1689). In our own time, we are thankful for the group known as The Gospel Coalition and take much of our Statement of Faith from them.

That’s it. We don’t say we hold to those Confessions absolutely or without exception, but the core of the gospel faith expressed in those documents, passed down through the ages, is the same core of our faith.

One other potential benefit of this approach is that if someone is reading our Statement of Faith and doesn’t know the Creeds and Confessions that we list, we hope that they’ll take the time to look them up. There is certainly much to be gained by studying the theology of past generations.

Post from: Julian Freeman

A Confession That Connects

I imagine that I’m probably not the only preacher who makes some of these mistakes with regularity, so I thought I’d share them here in case my list ends up helping any of you brothers who are working on preaching evaluation / improvement as well.

Top Mistakes I Make in Sermon Preparation

1. I Don’t Pray Enough

This one is simple. There are more weeks than I care to admit when there is very little by way of earnest, extended times of prayer for the ministry of the preached word. This reflects self-reliance, and a disturbing amount of trust placed in my gifts rather than the one who actually has the power to do spiritual work in the hearts of the hearers. This one is first because it’s clearly the worst offence.

2. I Don’t Study Enough

This doesn’t happen quite as much for me, but sometimes I think my sermons are lacking in power because I just simply haven’t studied broadly enough. If I’m not absolutely confident that ‘this’ is what the text says, then I can’t preach it with absolute conviction.

3. I Study Too Much

This happens to me fairly regularly. The issue here is not so much that I study the text too much, but that the bulk of my sermon preparation goes to studying so that there is far too little time left to actually write the sermon. When this happens illustrations becomes sparse and obscure and application can seem forced. When this happens my sermons include very little by way of helps for the hearer.

4. I Don’t Spend Enough Time ‘Snacking’

Great sermons are personal. They reflect the reality that the preacher has soaked in the text, has drunk deeply of it, and been changed by it. I once heard a preacher (lovingly) talk about his ‘large’ grandmother. She was always cooking, he said, but never ate with the family. He couldn’t figure out, as a child, how she could be so large if she never ate. Then, one day, he watched her in her kitchen. As she cooked, she snacked. All day. This preacher said that we, as preachers, ought to be like his grandmother. We must be constantly snacking on the food that we’re preparing for others. When I do this, I think my sermons are more personal, more practical, more warm, and easier to hear. I just don’t do it enough.

5. I Don’t Consider a Broad Enough Audience

Often times when I think about the point of a text that I’ve been studying I think of a particular demographic that this point applies to, and then I gear the sermon to them. I don’t do that consciously, but I think it happens subconsciously a fair bit. That may be appropriate in certain contexts, but when I’m writing sermons for public consumption, I need to think about more of a broad audience so that people can more clearly and easily see the relevance of the text for them.

Mistakes in Sermon Preaching

1. I Preach Too Long

Hear me on this: people need to hear preaching and Christians need to cultivate the spiritual discipline of listening to God’s word through preaching so that sermon-listening becomes an act of worship. I don’t think that one hour per week is too much to ask of God’s people. I think if we sit through movies and sporting events and TV shows for hours on end, God’s people can and should be disciplined to sit and hear from God. The people at Grace Fellowship Church get this, and I love that about them. They love to sit under the word and never complain about length of sermon. That being said, I do want to consider that sometimes talking too long diminishes the power of what’s actually being said. I need to work on correcting this.

2. I Preach a Commentary Rather Than a Sermon

This relates to a couple of the points above. Too often I think that merely understanding what the text says is the same this as having a sermon to preach. I can default to thinking that merely explaining the text is the same thing as applying. That is simply not what is most helpful to people.

3. I Give Too Much Detail / Information

Christians love the word of God and want to study it deeply. But no one can drink from a fire-hose. And too often I take what took me 3 days of study to understand and try to force-feed all of it to others in under an hour. People need truth that is deep, but they also need truth that has been distilled.

4. I Don’t Sit Under the Word While I’m Preaching it

I’m embarrassed to even think about how many times I’ve preached a sermon without realizing in the moment that the one person in the room who needs to hear this particular word from God the most is the one preaching. Some of the most effective preachers I’ve heard also happen to be the most affected preachers. And that’s not because they’re dramatic (it’s fairly easy, I think, to tell the difference). Effective preachers are affected preachers because they themselves are sitting under the word that’s being delivered and are experiencing the ministry of the Spirit of Truth even as they speak. I need to cultivate more of a spirit of humility and neediness so that when I preach I also listen to hear what God would say to me.

Am I Alone?

Anything else? What are some common mistakes you make when you preach or study to preach?

Post from: Julian Freeman

The Top Mistakes I Make in Preaching

Listen and be blessed.

Post from: Julian Freeman

Matt Chandler on God’s Lavish Grace in Forgiveness

And then there are the Proverbs:

When words are many, transgression is not lacking. (Prov. 10.19)

Or how about this gem:

Even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is deemed intelligent. (Prov. 17.28)

You could also add pretty much the whole third chapter of James to the discussion as well. If you don’t have anything to say, just don’t say anything… right?

Having Nothing Good to Say Is Not Innocent

While it’s clear that the New Testament commands me to watch my words, it also tells me to redeem my words. There are many commands in the New Testament that — if I’m going to obey them — require me to actually have something to say.

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. 3.16; cf. Eph. 5.19)

This means that I’m not obeying the desires of God for me if I have nothing to say. If I’m regularly getting together with brothers & sisters (at Sunday gatherings or otherwise) and I have nothing encouraging to share with them, I’m failing to love them and help create for them community of Christ that they (and I!) need.

The Causes of Having Nothing to Say

Being an introvert by nature I constantly have to fight the temptation to be shy and withdraw from conversations. It seems natural to me to have nothing to say. But in light of the nature of conversation between believers in the New Testament, I believe that I need to dig a little deeper in examining my heart when I have nothing to say.

If the content of my speech is the overflow of my heart and the content of my speech is supposed to be that which points others to the glory of God in the face of Christ Jesus, then having nothing to say means that my heart is not overflowing with Jesus. Do you see the connection? If my heart was full of joy at my union with Christ in his death and resurrection (Col. 2.20; 3.1) and my mind was set on him (Col. 3.2), then my heart would be full-to-overflowing so that my speech would be edifying and encouraging others (Col. 3.16).

Most likely, if I have nothing to say to my brothers & sisters it’s because I’ve been fixing my mind on the things below, where I and all my worries are, rather than on things above, where Christ is seated, rightly enthroned.

This Is a Problem (Especially) for Pastors

This is obviously an extra-large and ever-present problem for pastors. Especially for introverted pastors like me. Every time I’m in conversation with someone I know that it’s my ‘job’ to help them behold God in the gospel of Jesus. But if I haven’t been beholding God in my own private thoughts and meditations, how can I show him to others?

And then there’s Sunday. If pastors are perfectly honest, we have to admit (at least I do!) that far too often Sunday comes far too quickly. The demands of the week have overwhelmed, we’ve given in to temptations to worry, we’ve been distracted by things that should not be our priority, and Sunday sneaks up on us.

And when Sunday comes, it’s time to say something. So what do we do?

With other occasions for speaking we can sometimes remain silent (or just not blog for a few weeks, for example). But Sunday always comes with unflinching regularity.

And each Sunday, God forgive us, we say something. Whether our hearts are full-to-overflowing, or whether the truth has barely scratched the surface of minds, we say something. It sickens and saddens me to think how often my heart has been so unaffected as I enter the pulpit. It is painful to consider the blessing that the flock of God has missed out on because of the stubbornness and hardness of heart of this pastor.

I’m convinced that when the people of God gather and the word of God is faithfully proclaimed, God will work and accomplish his purposes. I believe that his Spirit will work despite the shortcomings of the spokesman. I have witnessed many times how God has stirred the affections of the saints even while this sinner longs to have his own heart stirred. He is faithful. But this is still a problem.

How Can I Find Something to Say?

The answer is certainly simple. I need to dwell in the word. We all do. We need to soak in the truth of God’s glorious gospel work until our hearts are warmed. We need to fix our minds on heavenly things, since that is where Christ is. We need to fix our minds there by letting his word dwell in us. We need to fix our minds there and not let them be moved until our hearts are full.

Too many times I’ve gone to the word like a car to a gas station and pulled away long before my heart was fully-fuelled. If my heart is ever going to overflow with words that give grace, I must be filled with the grace of Christ to me in the gospel.

May God give me grace to find something to say today — and everyday — as I fix my mind on him.

Post from: Julian Freeman

When I Have Nothing to Say

Tim Challies wrote what ended up being a pretty controversial post on patiently waiting for justice to be done in the matters relating to Sovereign Grace Ministries. He pointed out that we are to love, hope all things, wait until the matter is fully heard, and entrust justice to those authorities appointed by God. Even in the cases where there is alleged sexual abuse and alleged cover-ups.

For some, that was asking too much. Apparently, for a Christian seeking justice, we don’t need such waiting games. ‘The powerful are hiding and maneuvering to oppress the victims,’ we are told, ‘and therefore we ought to stand up for the victims.’

Rachel Held Evans, in her response to Challies, made it clear that the obligation of the church in seeking justice is the protection of the weak rather than the strong:

As Christians, our first impulse should be to protect and defend the powerless, not the powerful.

But that’s not right. And as much as many may hate the word, it’s simply not biblical. The biblical principle of justice is the very thing Tim was arguing for. Listen to Moses explain it three times: ¹

“You shall not spread a false report. You shall not join hands with a wicked man to be a malicious witness. You shall not fall in with the many to do evil, nor shall you bear witness in a lawsuit, siding with the many, so as to pervert justice, nor shall you be partial to a poor man in his lawsuit.” (Exodus 23.1-3)

“You shall do no injustice in court. You shall not be partial to the poor or defer to the great, but in righteousness shall you judge your neighbor.” (Leviticus 19.15)

You shall not be partial in judgment. You shall hear the small and the great alike. You shall not be intimidated by anyone, for the judgment is God’s.’ (Deut 1.17)

Again, speaking to those who are outside the immediate circle and, frankly, do not know what happened, I would argue with Tim: let the process of justice by the authorities work. That’s why God put them in place to begin with (Rom 13.1-7).

If God will work justice in this life through this situation (since eschatological justice is never in doubt), then it will be through the authorities he has put in place. Not through vigilante bloggers who think they know more than they probably do and consider reading a few websites as good as conducting a court case.

And, of course, this is a truth that applies in so many more contexts than just the Sovereign Grace instance. So often we think we know justice and if it were just left up to us, we could accomplish it right now! 

But true justice is slow. We must be patient. Sometimes it never comes in this life. But isn’t that why we’re thankful for the gospel? The gospel accomplishes our own forgiveness for sins (including our rash judgements), but it also means that Jesus, having conquered his enemies, will return to restore this creation and reign on earth in perfect justice.

And the call of every believer since Abraham has been to wait patiently on God’s promises, believing that he who is faithful as the Judge of all the earth will ultimately do what is right.

Post from: Julian Freeman

We Wait Patiently for Justice

Present Tense

O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

Past Tense

So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and your glory.

Present Tense

Because your steadfast love is better than life…

Future Tense

… my lips will praise you.

So I will bless you as long as I live; in your name I will lift up my hands.

My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food, and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips, when I remember you (when I remember you in the future!) upon my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night;

Past Tense

for you have been my help,

Future Tense

and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.

Present Tense

My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.

But those who seek to destroy my life …

Future Tense

… shall go down into the depths of the earth; they shall be given over to the power of the sword; they shall be a portion for jackals.

But the king shall rejoice in God; all who swear by him shall exult, for the mouths of liars will be stopped.

[Psalm 63.1-11 ESV]

Faith and Time

When I was a kid learning to play hockey there were several little sayings that were repeated all the time (like, ‘Keep your stick on the ice!’). Maybe it’s because I was more of a defensive player, but one that particularly sticks out to me is the phrase, ‘Keep your head on a swivel!’

What my coaches meant by that was that I needed to keep looking behind me, in front of me, and all around me, to make sure that I saw where my opponents were. I needed to know who to cover, where to move, what passing lanes to block, and where to anticipate beginning a break out if we recovered the puck.

I had to constantly look around me to get my bearings so that I wasn’t caught out of place at any given moment.

In Psalm 63, David has his head on a swivel. He looks to the past to determine what God has done, he looks forward to remind himself of what God will do — and what David hinself will do (i.e. worship) — and he uses those perspectives to make sure his present actions are grounded in faith. If God has been faithful, and God will judge the wicked, then I can worship him and rejoice in his love here and now.

That’s the kind of faith that I need. When my present circumstances move me to worry, fear, doubt, or discouragement, I need to look back and see his faithfulness. Then I need to project that same power, faithfulness, goodness, and justice into the future and believe what he will do. In light of what’s behind and what’s ahead, my faith can be grounded and sure in the present.

And then I’m free to be satisfied with his love right here and now, in the middle of my circumstantial desert.

Post from: Julian Freeman

The Tenses of Faith