I thought about giving these thoughts the title “Disruption”. “Transition” sounds much more positive, doesn’t it? But anytime there’s a transition, there’s going to be disruption. There are a handful of important transitions recorded in scripture, and all of them are disruptive.

The form of government called “theocrasy” conjures up some very negative associations in our modern minds. Literally, however, the term means “governed by God”, and that’s exactly the situation Israel lived in under the Judges. But the people of Israel clamored for a king instead. They brought their demand to the priest/judge Samuel, and he brought it to God. God’s response was, “They have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them.” (1 Samuel 8:7)

The theocrasy that God intended would have been righteous, just, and effective. But seldom did it look like that in actuality. The book of Judges details how Israel, over and over, corrupted and abandoned what God intended. Now the demand was for a king, and God went on in his answer to Samuel, “Obey their voice; only you shall solemnly warn them and show them the ways of the king who shall reign over them.” (verse 9)

So Samuel oversaw the transition from theocrasy to monarchy. He did, as God commanded, tell them how disruptive it would be. (verses 10-18) God let them have the kind of king they demanded—and King Saul proved to be a disaster on both a personal and a national level.

Much later, another transitional figure arose – John the Baptist. This time the transition was initiated by God, but once again there was a lot of resistance to doing things God’s way. John, who was a priest, began the transition from the Levitical priesthood to the high priesthood of Messiah.

The writer to the Hebrews lays out the new priesthood:

So also Christ did not exalt himself to be made a high priest, but was appointed by him who said to him, “You are my Son, today I have begotten you”; as he says also in another place, “You are a priest forever, after the order of Melchizedek.” (Hebrews 5:5-6)

This transition would turn out to be wonderful for us. Which goes to show how much better it is for God to initiate a transition.

Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For 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. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (Hebrews 4:14-16)

As always, this transition would be disruptive. John himself said, “He must increase but I must decrease.” (John 3:30) That decrease encompassed the entire Aaronic priesthood, not just himself, as the Hebrews writer explains:

Now if perfection had been attainable through the Levitical priesthood (for under it the people received the law), what further need would there have been for another priest to arise after the order of Melchizedek, rather than one named after the order of Aaron? For when there is a change in the priesthood, there is necessarily a change in the law as well. (Hebrews 7:11-12)

What’s my point in going into all this? There’s another transition described in the Bible, a personal transition. It’s put in many different ways. A few samples:

“For at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light. (Ephesians 5:8)

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind. (Romans 12:2)

We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. (Romans 6:6)

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (Galatians 2:20)

Is this transition disruptive? You bet it is! It changes everything. At least it’s supposed to.

The scriptures set examples before us. Like Israel, we sometimes try to initiate changes to suit our desires. This inevitably leads to disaster. But there are other disruptive transitions initiated by God, for our benefit. These we need to not merely accept, but embrace, even though they are hard. Fortunately we have a great High Priest to help.

Love, Paul

Paul’s description of the fruit of the Spirit is one of the best loved, most quoted, and most studied passages in all of scripture. “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.” (Galatians 5:22-23)

Why “fruit”? It could just be generic, equivalent to the “product” But consider, he may be offering a parable. How does literal fruit come about? Soil and water are necessary but not sufficient. For there to be fruit there has to be a massive input of energy from an external source. All the power, all the energy, comes from the sun.

This fits Paul’s point. It’s the fruit of the Spirit. It’s not in me to produce fruit.

How does this work? Just look at the first item in the list: love. We are told explicitly where love comes from: “Love is from God… We love because he first loved us.” (1 John 4:7 & 19) Love doesn’t begin from within. It is a result of the power of God shining on us.

What do we know about God’s love? “God so loved the world…” (John 3:16) Do we put these together and say, we love in response to God’s love, God loves the world, therefore the world loves God? Well, no. Doesn’t work that way, does it?

The soil in which the fruit tree is planted has meaning too. Jesus’s parable of the sower shows us as much. (Mark 4:3-20) So yes, God loves everyone—so much He would give His Son. But everyone doesn’t respond by loving in return.

Can we apply the origin of love to the rest of the list? It’s easy for some of them. We can bear the fruit of patience because He first showed patience with us. We can be kind because He first showed kindness to us. We can be faithful (true, loyal) because He is faithful, always keeping His promises. Same with gentleness. Even self-control.

But what of joy? Well, there’s joy in heaven over one sinner who repents. (Luke 15:7) We share that joy, don’t we? When we see someone respond to the gospel? What of peace? Jesus says, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.” (John 14:27) Goodness? “No one is good except God alone.” (Mark 10:18) But we are expected to be taught by Him to produce goodness: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Romans 12:21)

You see? Every aspect of the fruit originates with God. It’s not my fruit, it’s His. I do have a part to play. No fruit comes from hardened or rocky or weed-choked ground. Which we all are, by nature. There’s some hoeing and weeding to be done. But that comes from the external power source too:

Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. (John 15:4-5)

How does the “abiding” happen? I think, in practical terms, it means coming under the influence of God and of His Son. We learn to be loving by observing, really paying attention to, God’s love. We become kind, patient, joyful and all the rest in the same way. First step: confess and embrace that it’s not me producing any of it. It’s God, exercising His own power, through Jesus—the conduit He established to show us His love, His kindness, His goodness, all of the fruit He wants to see growing in us.

Love, Paul

We make a lot of decisions, every day. A huge proportion of those are tiny, and we make many of them unconsciously. Occasionally a big one comes along, and we may spend hours or days or weeks or longer, making up our mind. But seldom, I think, do we stop and think about how it is that we actually have the power to choose, to decide.

This is how:

Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.” So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. (Genesis 1:26-27)

The power to choose is shown in the word “dominion”. Dominion is control. We often calls it “free will”. It is a characteristic of God Himself, and as He says in this passage, He makes the man and woman in His own likeness, specifically in this way. He gives them control of what He has made. What a gift!

The gift does come with a condition, however. This is a concept familiar to us. No one disputes the right of a donor to put conditions on their donation, to a charity for example. God gave the man and woman life, and gave them the whole world. With a condition:

And the LORD God commanded the man, saying, “You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die.” (Genesis 2:16-17)

The dominion suddenly requires a decision. In fact, it’s meaningless to say they have dominion, the power to choose, if there’s no choice to be made. God already had servants who simply carry out His will without the ability to choose. We call them the angels, and they exist solely to do God’s will. (Hebrews 1:7 & 14, quoting Psalm 104:4 and referring to Psalm 103:20-21)

The restriction God puts on the first man and woman is what truly gives them dominion. They must now choose. Do they believe God means what He says? Will they honor Him by choosing to obey the command? God has shown He loves them, in the gift of the planet and its contents, and entrusting them with the power to choose. Will they show they love Him in return in the choice they make?

We know the answer, of course. It was God who created the serpent which posed the choice. Without it there would be no choice, therefore no actual dominion. God forced them to choose, and as we know they chose disastrously.

What of us? We, the first couple’s descendants, inherit the power to choose. What had been pure (“very good” as God declared it) was now corrupted, and we inherit that too. It’s in our nature now, bent toward choosing badly, toward gratifying ourselves rather than honoring the Creator.

The requirement to choose remains. Moses pleads with the people of Israel, and by extension with us:

I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose life, that you and your offspring may live, loving the LORD your God, obeying his voice and holding fast to him, for he is your life and length of days. (Deuteronomy 30:19-20)

God continues to present the choice to us. He requires that we choose. To love Him, obey His voice, hold fast to Him, and live forever…or love our attractive, delicious sins, and die. Our choice.

Love, Paul

The admonitions we get in the apostle Paul’s letters go way beyond suggestions. They have the force of commandments. We see one such in Ephesians 4:29. Here it is, in various translations:

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths. (NIV)

Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth. (KJV)

Don’t use foul or abusive language. (NLT)

Stop all your dirty talk. (CEV)

Don’t ?say anything that will hurt others. (EXB)

Each of these is representative of several other translations. There is similarity, all of them clearly add up to, “Don’t say bad things.” But they aren’t all the same, are they? They vary in what “bad things” we shouldn’t say. So what is the actual exhortation/command? Is it about not telling dirty jokes? Cussing? Belittling others?

As always, context is vital. Going on in the same verse, Paul says, “…but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” (NIV) He tells us what the right things are, which helps us understand what bad things we shouldn’t say. “Building others up” rather than belittling them or hurting them. “According to their need” rather than according to our own feelings. “Benefit those who listen” rather than planting corrupt things in their minds.

Looking at surrounding verses gives us even more detail about the kinds of things we ought not to be saying. In fact this letter rivals that of James, who speaks at length about the use and misuse of our tongue. A couple verses later we read:

Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. (verse 31, ESV)

Is there ever bitterness in what we say? Anger? Shouting? Misrepresentation, or even outright lying? Are we ever malicious? These are some serious questions, and Paul wants us to face up to them.

A few verses earlier, Paul writes, “Put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor.” (verse 25, NIV) Earlier still, he says, “Speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ.” (verse 15, ESV) You can plainly see that Paul is really leaning on the truthfulness aspect of what we say.

Moving into the next chapter, we find that Paul has more to say about what should not come out of our mouths: “Nor should there be obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, which are out of place, but rather thanksgiving.” (5:4, NIV) An awful lot of what comes out of the world around us consists of obscenity and coarseness, and a lot of the rest is simply foolish. We know we ought to turn away from that stuff, right? But it’s hard to swim against the current.

Fortunately, Paul gives us a further antidote—giving thanks. If we concentrate on giving thanks, on speaking truth, on building up, on helping others; if that’s what’s coming out of our mouths, we’ll find we’re a little less prone to spouting any kind of garbage talk.

Love, Paul

The religious environment Jesus grew up in, lived his whole life in, preached and taught in, was very concerned with “cleanness” and “uncleanness”. Among the religious leadership, it was an obsession.

Their concern came directly out of the Law of Moses. The Law meticulously detailed which animals were clean and could be eaten, and which were unclean and must not be eaten. The entirety of Leviticus 11 is devoted to the details, and Moses repeats much of it again in Deuteronomy 14.

To all appearances, Jesus comes along and shreds this commandment:

“There is nothing outside a person that by going into him can defile him, but the things that come out of a person are what defile him.”… “Whatever goes into a person from outside cannot defile him, since it enters not his heart but his stomach, and is expelled?” (Thus he declared all foods clean.) (Mark 7:15-19)

This seems to directly contradict what Jesus says of himself with regard to the Law:

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished. Therefore whoever relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 5:17-19)

In Mark’s account, doesn’t Jesus abolish the law regarding what is unclean to eat? Doesn’t he relax the commandment, and teach others to do the same?

Let’s read carefully. Jesus puts forward two ways the Law can be set aside. The Law could be abolished, or the Law could be fulfilled. Either way it’s no longer in effect. Jesus goes on to give several examples of how he fulfills the Law. In each he declares, “You have heard that it was said…but I say to you.” The Law dealt with technical, external compliance. Jesus teaches us that this kind of religion is now superseded by internal reformation, in the heart.

Israel was commanded to be separate in many ways from the nations around them. Making distinction between clean and unclean food was part of it. The point is stated clearly:

You shall therefore separate the clean beast from the unclean, and the unclean bird from the clean… You shall be holy to me, for I the LORD am holy and have separated you from the peoples, that you should be mine. (Leviticus 20:25-26)

The technical, external, and ultimately unimportant dietary distinction of “clean” and “unclean” was a teaching device, a parable they were to live out. The meaning of it was that they were to be holy to the Lord. When Jesus comes along, the commandment is fulfilled, not abolished. The fulfillment is that, in Christ, we are set apart and holy. Internally.

Immediately following the declaration that all foods are clean, Mark records that Jesus leaves his Jewish homeland and goes into Phoenicia, where he heals the daughter of a Gentile woman. He then travels to the Decapolis, healing and preaching in an area of mixed Jewish and (majority) Gentile population. It’s apparently here that he performs the feeding of the four thousand, which would have included Gentiles.

Mark’s arrangement isn’t accidental. On the heels of declaring all foods clean, Mark records Jesus showing by his actions that all people are clean—when they come to him. The distinctions of nationality, race, ethnicity are merely external and technical. Those distinctions are eradicated in Jesus Christ. They mean nothing to him, and mean nothing to us. What matters is internal reformation.

Love, Paul

A secular management consultant would tell you that the apostle Paul perfectly constructs his first letter to the church in Corinth. He has a number of criticisms and corrections he needs to convey. But first, he begins with some commendations. In fact really glowing praise for his recipients.

He says, first of all, that they are sanctified, and part of the large and growing community of those who serve the Lord Jesus Christ. This is important. They have their problems, but they are still part of the body of Christ. He says he prays for them, he says they have been enriched in speech and knowledge, that the testimony of Christ was confirmed among them, that they are not lacking in any spiritual gift, that in fact they have been called by God Himself into fellowship with Christ—and therefore with all believers.

This church has a boatload of problems, as he goes on to address through the rest of the letter. They have factions forming. They are arrogant, in spite of excusing gross immorality among some members. They are suing each other. They are living as if they are still pagans. They are fighting about dietary rules. Some of them are trying to undermine Paul himself. They have corrupted the remembrance of the Lord Jesus in bread and wine. They are misusing the gifts of the Spirit given to them. Some of them are questioning the resurrection, the cornerstone of their faith and the only Christian hope.

You can’t read this letter without seeing that there was a lot wrong in this church and in its members. And yet, in that opening section of chapter 1, Paul says they aren’t lacking anything, “…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.” (verses 7-8)

The rest of the letter shows these brothers and sisters were anything but “guiltless”!

But, Paul says, the Lord Jesus Christ will (not “could” or “might”) sustain them guiltless. Now? No—right now they sure aren’t guiltless. Paul makes the timing clear: it’s at the return of Christ as judge and as the Anointed King of all the earth. The phrases “the revealing of our Lord” and “the day of our Lord” are synonyms for his return.

You know what Paul is driving at, I’m sure. It is only by grace that these Corinthians, or you or I, can be regarded as guiltless. As Jude says, through Jesus Christ God, “is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy.” (Jude verse 24)

This is so awesome. I think we all embrace Jude’s prayer in hope of it applying to ourselves. But I wonder if we embrace it quite as readily when we notice serious problems in others. Paul did. He doesn’t shy away from speaking the major corrections they need. But the corrections are given in the context of assurance that they are still his brothers and sisters, and more than that, Christ’s brothers and sisters, and that at the judgment they can be sustained guiltless. Yes, they need to shape up. Wonderfully, there’s excellent motivation to do so.

By faith we believe we can be counted guiltless in the day of judgment. By the same token, we must believe that others—even those with big problems—can have the same guiltlessness in that day. We are all in this together—Paul, the Corinthians, you and I, all in need of correction, in need of grace.

Love, Paul

In the reading plan I’m using, I’m brought once again to Exodus, Probably we would work it out, but we don’t have to guess. We’re told plainly that the Exodus and Israel’s experience in the wilderness are “types” (that is, allegorical figures) of ourselves. Paul says it in 1 Corinthians 10:1-12. (Many versions read “examples for us” rather than the stronger and more accurate “types of us”.)

Paul therefore strongly exhorts us to pay attention. We aren’t just reading about ancient Israel here, we’re reading about ourselves.

As you know, Israel’s departure from Egypt is commemorated in the observance of Passover, which is also the Feast of Unleavened Bread. Earlier in this same letter Paul had said, “Cleanse out the old leaven that you may be a new lump, as you really are unleavened. For Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed. Let us therefore celebrate the festival, not with the old leaven, the leaven of malice and evil, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.” (1 Corinthians 5:7-8)

The connection for Christians couldn’t be any plainer. Right here, Jesus Christ is our Passover lamb, and we are obliged to purge the “leaven” of sin from our lives. In chapter 10 he says baptism is our crossing of the Red Sea, leaving behind the domain of sin (“Egypt”). And he points out the warning not to act the way Israel did in their rebellions in the “wilderness” of our life now, before we come to the promised land.

Sorry if this is all very familiar. I just want to make sure we appreciate that the details of the Exodus account have important meaning for ourselves.

Such as Exodus 13:8, which is in the middle of the command from the Lord to celebrate the Passover every year down through the generations. Here’s the verse:

You shall tell your son on that day, “It is because of what the LORD did for me when I came out of Egypt.“

Did you catch the impact? For all time, parents are not only to tell their children about the historic deliverance. They are to make it personal. It’s what the Lord did for me, when I came out of Egypt. Even generations later, the deliverance is to be personal.

This is what we are supposed to do also—make it personal. This is what the Lord did for me when he gave His only Son (our Passover lamb).

And—do you see it?—we are supposed to tell it. The Hebrew word is very strong: to announce, proclaim, declare, explain. Not just telling a story! In 1 Corinthians 10, Paul goes on to talk about eating bread and drinking wine and how these bind us into one body. Then in the next chapter he recounts what Jesus commanded to be done to remember him, then Paul says, “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.” (1 Corinthians 11:26)

Paul still has the Exodus in mind, I think. The command is there in Exodus and remains there in Christ, to tell, to proclaim, what Christ our Passover lamb has done to redeem us.

Israel was to commemorate the Passover once a year. We are to commemorate Christ’s sacrifice as often as we eat the bread and drink the cup. Not as a mindless ritual, but genuinely discerning what it means (as the next verses caution).

So. Whenever Exodus comes up in your reading, this time don’t skim through it, even if it’s very familiar. Passover is not just a children’s Sunday School story, and it’s not just history. It’s intentionally and explicitly addressed to you and me personally, to find ourselves in the story, to remember, and to proclaim.

Love, Paul

I’m dirt. Or at least, descended from dirt. We may not be able to trace our genealogy across thousands of years, but we know that eventually we get all the way back to Adam and Eve. Eve’s origin? Constructed from the DNA taken from Adam. (Genesis 2:21-22) And Adam’s origin? Dirt. (verse 7)

Not only dirt, as we know. God took the elements in the soil and put together all the complex molecules that make up a living body, but it wasn’t yet living. The second phase was that God breathed into this body the breath (or spirit—same word) of life. Then the man was a living soul, a living being.

Our line, yours and mine, goes back to this couple, and therefore back to…dirt, plus spirit, the breath of life. It’s not exactly flattering to be told we’re dirt. But before we get to feeling too insulted, we should recall that dirt isn’t entirely without value.

In Jeremiah 18:1-6 the prophet is told by God to take Israel’s leaders and observe a potter at work. The Lord makes a parable of it, Himself being the potter, and the nation being the clay—the dirt—that the potter shapes into something useful. Later, the apostle Paul picks up the same metaphor in Romans 9:21.

So being dirt isn’t inherently a negative. In both Jeremiah and Romans, there is potential to be a useful pot. Some uses of a clay pot are “noble” or “honorable”, and others are “ignoble” or “dishonorable”. Unlike a literal lump of clay, in the parable the clay has a choice to make.

When God made Adam out of dirt, He made something of value, something He intended to be useful, a container in fact for His own breath (spirit) of life. What did this vessel do with the life given to him? He ruined it.

One thing to bear in mind: A ceramic pot is fragile, it can be broken. This comes into play later in Jeremiah’s enacted parable (19:1-11), and it’s once again picked up by Paul:

But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. (2 Corinthians 4:7)

God intentionally made us breakable, and then gave the choice to us. Adam and Eve chose badly, and so do we, all too often. When Jeremiah shattered the clay vessel, it was broken irretrievably. Once again, by grace, the literal isn’t the whole story. We aren’t irretrievable. In large measure, this is because our Maker “knows our frame, He remembers that we are dust.” (Psalm 103:14)

In fact God has promised to re-create us, out of the dirt to which we return when we die. Daniel tells us, “And many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.” (Daniel 12:2)

God made humanity out of dirt, animated by His spirit. And He will re-make us out of the dirt when He raises the dead at Christ’s return. This time, the vessel will be unbreakable! Re-read 1 Corinthians 15:47-54—going through it line by line, giving it your full, thoughtful attention.

In light of all this, I’m content to be dirt. Still fragile for now, still sometimes spoiling what the Potter is trying to do with me. Hoping that in some way I can be a useful vessel, a container that is worth having His breath entrusted to it. And in hope of being changed, perhaps being remade out of the dirt, but either way changed into something imperishable, incorruptible, immortal.

Love, Paul

Apparently I’m not the only one who has a problem with the thoughts I entertain in my mind. If it was just me, the apostle Paul wouldn’t have had to counsel others a long time ago:

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. (Philippians 4:8)

I’m pretty sure you’ve heard Bible talks, maybe read articles, maybe even participated in a Bible class based on this verse. It isn’t just me. It isn’t just you.

It’s baked into our nature. Remember what God said when He was fed up with mankind? “Every intention of the thoughts of man’s heart was only evil continually.” (Genesis 6:5) I don’t believe this means better thoughts are impossible. Note that Noah was an exception. And here Paul is coaching us to think better thoughts, so it must be possible. I believe God’s statement in Genesis tells us that our default is to think evil, and if we just go with what comes naturally, we’ll have our minds filled with evil continually.

Paul tells us there’s an antidote. We can do something about it—but it will take effort. It will involve deliberately and intentionally taking our focus away from what comes naturally. Thankfully, it’s not just theoretical. As a practical help, Paul gives us eight things to focus on instead. Each of these is worth a study of its own. For now, let’s just make a start thinking about the first one: Whatever is true.

In one sense this could be counseling us to find out about and contemplate who the true God is, what the true gospel is, what Jesus was getting at when he said, “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:32) I’d say that this is way beyond simply a good idea—it’s imperative!

In another sense, thinking about whatever is true could mean not making up false stuff in our minds. Imagining scenarios where we… [fill in the blank with your own unworthy fantasies]. Stuff like what Paul lists in various places, for example coveting, malice, immorality, envy, slander, vengeance—on and on. (Romans 1:29-31, 1 Corinthians 6:9-10, Galatians 5:19-21 and others) As Jesus said, these evil things come out of our “heart”—that is our mind. (Mark 7:20-23)

Turning our minds toward what is true in both of these senses is important. Necessary in fact. I suspect the second sense may be what Paul specifically had in mind when he wrote to the Philippians. Or maybe it’s just me that feels like this is where work is needed. Need to think about it.

Love, Paul

It might be something terrible—a crippling accident, or the loss of someone we’re very close to, something like that. Or it might be something wonderful—the birth of a child, suddenly being given a way to escape a war-torn country. Whether wonderful or terrible, there are life-changing events, that forever divide life into “before” and “after”.

There are a number of such events experienced by people we encounter in the Bible. I think most everyone would agree that one of them was when God directed Abraham to offer up his son Isaac as a sacrifice. It’s recorded in Genesis 22—might be good to reread it now, so it’s fresh in your memory.

It’s often been noted that what God asked of Abraham was horrific, something any parent would find impossible to do. How was it that Abraham didn’t object, didn’t delay, in fact got up early the next morning and headed out to sacrifice his son? The answer is provided in the New Testament, specifically Hebrews 11: 17-19.

By faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises was in the act of offering up his only son, of whom it was said, “Through Isaac shall your offspring be named.” He considered that God was able even to raise him from the dead, from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back.

Abraham’s thought process, the writer claims, was: a) God had promised that Isaac would be the one through whom the promises of “the seed” would be fulfilled. b) Isaac had no children. c) God commanded him to sacrifice Isaac. d) God will never renege on His promises. e) Therefore, God must intend to raise Isaac from the dead. In fact, he figured it was guaranteed. So he could do it, horrible as it would be.

But how did the Hebrews writer come to this conclusion? We need to read carefully the account in Genesis. First off, let’s correct a misimpression. A lexicon shows us that both Abraham and the angel called Isaac “the boy” or “the lad”. Isaac is often depicted as being a child. However, the same word is applied to the “young men” who were Abraham’s servants, and it’s used in many other places to refer to grown men, including soldiers. The servants and Isaac might have been young men, but they were young men. Isaac had to be a grown man, to carry the large load of wood that would be required to burn a body (verse 6).

Okay, now let’s look carefully at what we’re told. In verse 5 father, son and servants arrive: “Then Abraham said to his young men, ‘Stay here with the donkey; I and the boy [young man!] will go over there and worship and come again to you.’ ” Did you read it carefully? Abraham said he and his son would go worship, and then they will return. Abraham fully expected a living Isaac to return with him.

In verse 7, Isaac asked why they didn’t have an animal to sacrifice. Abraham’s answer is in verse 8: “God will provide for himself the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” As a result of this answer, we’re told, “So they went both of them together.” Can you imagine that one question and one answer are the sum total of the conversation? Abraham surely told Isaac what was going on. Explained, specifically, his thought process. There’s an enormous weight carried in that final sentence of verse 8. “So they went both of them together.” Isaac was going with his father willingly, knowing what was happening.

He had to have been. When they got to the spot, “Abraham built the altar there and laid the wood in order and bound Isaac his son and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood.” Here’s where Isaac’s maturity is important. He was a young man able to carry a heavy load of wood. His father was a very old man. There’s no way Abraham could tie up his son, unless the young man was a willing participant. And of course, this is part of the type God was having them act out. The fulfillment of the type was that God was going to give His own Son, and the Son would be a willing participant.

The writer to the Hebrews carefully looked at this and rightly concluded: Abraham believed in resurrection! I think we have to conclude the same was true of Isaac.

This was a pivotal moment. For Abraham for sure, but he’d spoken with God and with angels many times over the years—this was essentially a next step for him. But for Isaac, I believe this was life changing. He would have been terrified, I think, but he submitted nonetheless. He was willing to die, firmly believing God can raise the dead. He would never forget.

We don’t get a lot of information about Isaac’s life, definitely less than his dad Abraham or his son Jacob. It may help us gain a deeper understanding of what we do have, to remember that this event would always be there in the back of his mind.

Love, Paul

The disciples asked a question we would also intensely like to ask Jesus: “Tell us, when will these things be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” (Matthew 24:3) The amazing thing is, he answered. This, as you know, is his Olivet prophecy.

So there it is, laid out for us by the Lord himself—the sign of his coming and the end of the age. Four key things to note:

1. There will be a lot of false alarms, false claims. (verses 4-5, 11, 23-26)

2. A lot of bad things will happen, in fact the awfulness will be unprecedented. (verses 6-8, 15-21)

3. Believers will be persecuted, and some will be lured away or abandon their faith altogether. (verses 5, 9-12, 24)

4. Through it all, there will remain hope, the true gospel will even spread, and Jesus says we can get through it, to the glorious conclusion. (verses 13-14, 22, 27, 30-31

Believers have been on the lookout for the “signs of the times” from that time onward. The disciples thought it would happen on the very day Jesus ascended. (Acts 1:6-9) In my lifetime, there have been several occasions when believers have thought, “Maybe this is it!” It’s OK to get excited in this way—after all we’re in excellent company with the apostles themselves. We just have to heed Jesus’s warning to not let the excitement lead us astray.

The “signs of the times” that are often focused on come from verses 6-7. Wars, famines, earthquakes will precede the end. Luke’s account adds pestilences, signs in the heavens, and terrors. (Luke 21:11, 25-26) Of course there have always been wars, famines, epidemics, comets and the like, terrifying events. Whenever they occur, believers may start to wonder, “Is this it?” Personally, I don’t think it’s a bad thing to be thinking along these lines, whenever we see such things happening. Right in this prophecy Jesus commands that we stay alert, vigilant, paying attention. (Luke 21:18, Matthew 24:42 and the parables that follow)

There’s a new war, or a threat of war. (I feel confident that, however long it’s been between me writing and you reading, there will be a new war threat!) Does this mean the end is near? We don’t know, can’t know. (Mattew 24:36) The one thing we don’t want to do, is shrug it off as just the normal thing, and carry on with this life. In the next verses Jesus explicitly warns about this pitfall. (Luke 21:37-42)

This whole prophecy is given to us by Jesus for the exact purpose of keeping us in expectation, all the time. Not getting discouraged or distracted, using the opportunities which arise to share the gospel. It looks to me that things will get very bad, for the whole world and for believers. But Jesus will get us through it—because of the glory that will come after.

Are we seeing signs that the end is close? I don’t know. But I’m watching.

Love, Paul

Perhaps you sometimes feel like this, as I do sometimes:

The man declares, I am weary, O God; I am weary, O God, and worn out. Surely I am too stupid to be a man. I have not the understanding of a man. I have not learned wisdom, nor have I knowledge of the Holy One. (Proverbs 30:1-3)

The chapter opens with a title: “The words of Agur son of Jakeh. The oracle.” We don’t know anything else about Agur. There are several unconnected bits of wisdom from this Agur conveyed in this chapter, and then chapter 31 shifts to, “The words of King Lemuel.”

It’s fairly straightforward figuring out where one bit ends and the next begins. Verses 5-6 are one bit, then 7-9, then verse 10, then 11-14 and so on. But it’s not perfectly clear whether verse 4 is part of the bit quoted from verses 1-3, or if it’s a separate bit. Here it is:

Who has ascended to heaven and come down? Who has gathered the wind in his fists? Who has wrapped up the waters in a garment? Who has established all the ends of the earth? What is his name, and what is his son's name? Surely you know! (Proverbs 30:4)

The series of questions are very reminiscent of God’s questions to Job, when He confronts him in Job 38-41. I have to think that Agur is deliberately evoking God’s challenge of Job. So we should take note of Job’s response to God:

“Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth. I have spoken once, and I will not answer; twice, but I will proceed no further.” (Job 40:4-5)

“I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted… I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know… I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.” (Job 42:2-6)

What Job has to say seems to be very much in line with Agur’s confession of his own weariness, stupidity and foolishness. So it seems to me that verse 4 belongs with the bit in verses 1-3.

Okay, then what’s here for us to learn? Maybe first of all, that if we have foolishly mouthed off, that’s not necessarily the end. We may be confronted by God with a, “Who do you think you are?” As Job was, and as Agur seems to pick up and apply to himself. If we are confronted in that way, I think Agur is saying, that’s a good thing. It shows God hasn’t given up on us, is still working with us, even if we are (spiritually) stupid.

How might the confrontation come to us? It’s unlikely to be a voice from a whirlwind as it was for Job. I think the way it comes to us is reading the insight expressed by Agur—and then applying it to ourselves. Where did Agur get it? He read Job.

Yes, I’m too stupid to be a man. I’m worn out, I’m far more ignorant that I like to think of myself, I’m foolish. But Agur points us in the right direction: humbling ourselves and remembering who’s truly in charge, the one “who has established all the ends of the earth.” And look how he closes this bit of wisdom: “What is his name, and what is his son's name?”

Where does the mention of “his son’s name” come into it? Agur was looking forward, and apparently grasped the role “his son” would play. The role of the Savior, the High Priest. The one who can redeem us even from our stupidity and foolishness.

Love, Paul

Matt’s cheeks are aching, but he can’t keep the huge grin off his face. He can’t believe what’s just happened. He’s walked by this vacant lot every day for years, going to and from work. It’s overgrown with weeds, and he’s never taken a shortcut through the empty lot. But on his way home today, out of curiosity Matt had decided to cut through. Halfway across, he’d come across the foundation of a house, mostly filled in with trash. The house must have fallen down a long time ago; he’s never heard anyone even mention that there used to be a house there.

Having gone that far, he’d decided, “Might as well do some exploring.” He’d picked his way down into what used to be the cellar, and started poking around in the broken boards and the piles of junk thrown away long ago. He’d looked under this and that, with no plan or any particular goal in mind. Reaching the far side, he’d seen an old refrigerator lying on its side, with its door firmly closed. Pulling on the handle did nothing, but still curious he’d grabbed a board and used it as a lever to pry the door open. That’s when it happened.

The seal on the door had apparently held up against all kinds of weather for years. The door resisted being pried open, the gasket finally giving up with a loud ripping sound. Inside, the old appliance was totally clean and dry—not at all what Matt had expected. Laying at the bottom was what looked like a piece of plastic. Matt had bent down and turned it over, then froze as he saw what it was. It was a high quality comic book protector, and through the clear cover he’d seen the title, Action Comics, seen Superman throwing a green car, seen the band at the top with the issue: No. 1, June 1938. It looked like it was in perfect condition. It was worth millions!

The grin begins right then. He almost grabs his find and takes off. But he realizes, that wouldn’t be right. What should he do?

Still grinning even as he works, Matt puts things back as they were. The door of the old refrigerator actually closes again. Now what? He resumes his walk home, wondering. On the far side of the lot he comes upon a sign, a small board nailed to a stake and almost buried in the weeds. Painted on the board: “Lot for sale.” And below that, “Call Josh,” and a phone number.

“I could buy the lot!” Matt thinks. He takes a pen out of his pocket and writes the phone number on his hand. If possible his grin grows even wider.

Getting home, Matt forces himself to think seriously about the whole situation. Isn’t it kind of crazy that a comic book would have such an absurd value? He’s been collecting for a long time, so he knows what his find is worth. He decides. Yes, it’s worth trying to find out if he can buy that lot.

Getting his breathing under control, he pulls out his phone and keys the number written on his hand. Almost immediately, it’s answered: “Yeah, this is Josh.”

“Um, Hi. My name’s Matt. I’m interested in that lot you have for sale. How much are you asking?”

Josh names a figure. Matt’s heart sinks. So much!

“That seems awfully high. It’s sat there empty for as long as I can remember.”

“Yeah, but it’s a great location. Someday somebody’s going to build on it. The price isn’t negotiable.”

“There’s a lot of junk in the old foundation…”

“If you want the lot, you get the junk too. I’m selling as is. Up to you to take it from there.”

“Well, thanks. I’m going to have to think about it.” Matt hangs up, and he does think about it. Everything Matt has is tied up in his own collection. He has a very good idea of the value of his collection. It surprises him to realize that what Josh wants for the lot is just about exactly the value of the entire collection. So, he can keep his collection as it is, or he can sell the whole thing and buy Josh’s lot, along with the “junk” in the refrigerator. Simple as that. One or the other.

Matt has a hard time getting to sleep that night. Finally he does, and when he wakes up in the morning, he realizes his mind must have been working on the dilemma as he slept. The knot in his stomach from the previous evening is gone. The smile is back, as he reaches for his phone.

An imagining based on the story told by Jesus in Matthew 13:44 –Paul

The end of another year is approaching as I write this. If you are following almost any daily Bible reading plan, at this time of year you’ll be reading the book of Revelation. Or—unfortunately—you may be skipping it. A lot of people feel daunted by all the symbolism. I’d just like to suggest a reason to not skip it.

What does the word “revelation” mean? It means revealing something, right? In the Greek of the New Testament, the first word of the book is apokalupto – the verb form of apokalupsis, the word that has come into our language as “apocalypse”. This word literally means to take the cover off, to reveal. It is sad that what Jesus intends as a revealing should mostly be thought of as impenetrable, impossible to make sense of except by experts.

The very word itself, in common English usage, is far from Jesus’s original intent. Here’s a dictionary definition of what the word means in English-speaking popular culture:

1. the complete final destruction of the world, as described in the biblical book of Revelation.

2. an event involving destruction or damage on an awesome or catastrophic scale.

Does that sound about right, what most people think? Hopefully, as Bible students, we see that the first definition arises from a completely false concept of what the book of Revelation is about. But sadly, the word that actually means “revelation” has come to mean “complete final destruction”.

It’s of course true that there are a lot of pictures of God’s judgments. But nowhere does the book describe “complete final destruction of the world”. The actual ending is the complete opposite of that! You may struggle to know what is meant by the seven seals on the scroll, the seven trumpets, the seven bowls of God’s wrath, the beasts. The judgments described are indeed severe. But just look at how they end!

The sixth seal concludes with a vision of a multitude clothed in white, serving God forever, “and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” This is Kingdom language. The seventh seal then ushers in the trumpets. (Rev 7:9-17)

“Then the seventh angel blew his trumpet, and there were loud voices in heaven, saying, ‘The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever.’ ” (Rev 11:15) Explicitly, this is the Kingdom.

“The seventh angel poured out his bowl into the air, and a loud voice came out of the temple, from the throne, saying, ‘It is done!’ And there were flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder, and a great earthquake such as there had never been since man was on the earth, so great was that earthquake.” (Rev 16:17-18) That earthquake is associated in a number of places with the return of Christ. “It is done,” was spoken by Jesus on the cross at the completion of his first work, atoning for sin. Now it is the arrival of the King and his second great work. There are judgments described on those who reject his kingship: “They will make war on the Lamb, and the Lamb will conquer them, for he is Lord of lords and King of kings, and those with him are called and chosen and faithful.” (Rev 17:14) “Those with him,” that’s us!

And when all of this is done, there’s the Marriage Supper of the Lamb, and blessed are those who are invited. (Rev 19:6-10)

Complete final destruction of the world? Far from it! The ending is the glorious Kingdom of God. Which does include the removal of all the evils mankind has perpetrated, and removal of the perpetrators if they do not “wash their robes and make them white in the blood of the Lamb.” But is our focus on the judgments, however just they may be? Our focus, surely, should be on the depictions of Christ reigning, God’s glory filling the earth, the resurrection and bestowal of eternal life on the faithful.

Notice, to benefit from the book we don’t have to figure out what is meant by the beasts and all the rest. It’s not wrong to dig into that, certainly—Jesus provided all of it to instruct us. But we don’t need to avoid the Apocalypse just because of the symbols. We can gain wonderful encouragement from this book, gain confidence that whatever happens in the world, the ending is the glory of the Kingdom. This powerful reminder is one very good reason not to skip the book. Thus encouraged, with our whole heart we can join John at the end, saying, “Amen. Come Lord Jesus!”

Love, Paul

Medical research has shown that laughter is good for us, in fact really good for us. Laughter actually makes us physically healthier. It enhances mental health. And it promotes healthy social interactions.

Why then is there so little laughing in the Bible? And why is it that, where there is laughter, it’s mostly laughing in scorn or derision—not healthy laughing?

Does God laugh? He does, a few times, but always along the lines of Psalm 2, where the nations of the earth rebel against God and His Anointed. Then: “He who sits in the heavens laughs; the Lord holds them in derision.” (verse 4)

Through the prophets, the Lord warns His people Israel of the consequences of their idolatry and disobedience. One of the consequences is that they’ll be the objects of scornful laughter, for example Ezekiel 23:32.

You’ll remember Sarah’s response when angels visited Abraham and her, with the news that Sarah would have a child in her old age. She laughed, apparently contemptuously, and she was rebuked for it. (Genesis 18:10-15)

So is the God of the Bible anti-laughter? We would almost come to that conclusion, if it weren’t for a few passages that paint a different picture. The first one comes right there in the account of Sarah having the promised son. When he is born: “Sarah said, ‘God has made laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh over me.’ ” (Genesis 21:6)

What makes us laugh? Generally something unexpected, and it may come as mockery or something joyful. Both occur in scripture. But here we see joy and delight in Sarah’s amazed laughter now—a different kind than before. And she points out one of the key things about laughter—it’s contagious. Sarah uses the same Hebrew word for her laughter now, that was used by the angels of her laughter before. The word can convey laughing in merriment, or in mocking. It seems to me that there’s a key principle here, although it’s not obvious. The principle is that God can turn mockery or skepticism into unexpected joy. Hebrews 11:11 tells us, “By faith Sarah herself received power to conceive.” In other words, she turned around. At first she mocked the idea, but then she took to heart the angels’ question, “Is anything too hard for the LORD?” (Genesis 18:14) Sarah came around, believed, and was rewarded with cause to laugh joyfully.

The same would prove true for Israel as a nation:

When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; then they said among the nations, “The LORD has done great things for them.” (Psalm 126:1-2)

This joyful laughter also won’t take place without a turnaround. The restoration of Israel was accomplished in part by the decree of Cyrus the Persian emperor. And it happened in part when the nation of Israel once again came into existence in 1948. But the true joyful laughter awaits the turnaround. As Jesus said, “Behold, your house is forsaken. And I tell you, you will not see me until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’ ” (Luke 13:35)

Did Jesus laugh? Not that we have recorded. But he did have something to say about it. While most of the Hebrew and Greek words for laughing can convey either a laugh of derision or of merriment, here Jesus uses a unique word, one that only means joy or satisfaction:

“Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh.” (Luke 6:21)

Jesus tells us once again that joyful laughter comes from a turnaround. I don’t think he’s telling us that we should be morose now, that we must weep our way through life and if we do we’ll be rewarded with laughter later. I think we need to investigate what we’d weep about. One possibility: We weep over how sin dominates, both the world at large and in our own lives. And we turn around, we believe the promise of the greater Son, and ultimately our tears are wiped away, replaced by unbelievable, joyful laughing.

Love. Paul

The account is familiar.  On the day of his resurrection, Jesus talked with two followers as they walked from Jerusalem to Emmaus.  They didn’t recognize him—exactly how he looked different we aren’t told.  They told him of their crushing disappointment due to Jesus’s death.  His response was to give probably the greatest Bible class ever.

And he said to them, “O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?”  And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself. (Luke 24:25-27)

After Jesus revealed himself to them, “They said to each other, ‘Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?’ ” (verse 32)

The class was repeated that evening to the apostles:

Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, and said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead.” (Luke 24:44-46)

Later on, the apostle Paul would conduct similar classes.  Probably almost identical classes:

And Paul went in, as was his custom, and on three Sabbath days he reasoned with them from the Scriptures, explaining and proving that it was necessary for the Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead, and saying, “This Jesus, whom I proclaim to you, is the Christ.” (Acts 17:2-3)

So, where are those passages in the Law, the Prophets and the Psalms which tell us point blank, “The Christ must be killed and then be resurrected?”  You are correct—there aren’t any.  So where did Jesus and Paul (and no doubt all the other apostles) get this “proof”?  I suggest they got it in two different ways.

Jesus himself points out the first one, while he’s hanging on the cross.  He quotes the first verse of Psalm 22, undoubtedly directing: pay attention to the whole psalm.  Which turns out to be an exact prophecy of what was happening at that very moment.  The pointer Jesus is giving:  Treat the Psalms as prophecies of Messiah.

When we do this, we start seeing pictures everywhere of the Christ’s suffering, and also pictures of his glorification.  Often separately, but occasionally together, such as Psalm 31:5, which Jesus also quoted on the cross as he died: “Into your hand I commit my spirit.”  But we must go on to the second half of the verse: “You have redeemed me, O LORD, faithful God!”  In one verse, Jesus’s last thought as he died, and his first thought upon being brought back to life.

Similarly, Isaiah 53 is very clearly a prophecy of the Christ suffering in order to save people.  Yet the last two verses are clear that this same suffering one will be alive and able to look back and be satisfied, and will rule.  How can that be?  Only possible if he’s raised from the dead.

So lesson one is, open your eyes to the prophetic aspect of the Psalms as well as the Prophets themselves—and pay close attention to the details and the implications.  There isn’t a bald statement of the Christ dying and being raised, but it’s implied all over.  Take a look at Peter’s Pentecost speech in Acts 2.  He clearly got the lesson, and applied it.

The second avenue is that the scriptures (our Old Testament) are filled with types, that is foreshadowings of Christ.  Jesus gets us started on this approach too, pointing out that Jonah’s experience was a type of his own death and resurrection. (Matthew 12:40)  The writer to the Hebrews gives us an additional push in this direction, pointing out that Abraham’s almost-completed offering of Isaac pointed out the necessity of resurrection. (Hebrews 11:17-19)  And look at Joseph, Jeremiah and Daniel—all of them thrown into a pit and then rescued out of it, all of them strong types of what the Christ would endure, going into the grave and then being saved out of it.

So we need to be on the lookout for these things:  prophetic implications of the necessity of death and resurrection, and types lived out by people to foreshadow the Christ.  It’s not just me saying it.  It’s Jesus, it’s the apostles, and surely it’s the prophets and psalmists and those who lived the types.

Concerning this salvation, the prophets who prophesied about the grace that was to be yours searched and inquired carefully, inquiring what person or time the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating when he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories. (1 Peter 1:10-11)

Love, Paul

We like this:

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30)

Easy! Light and restful. What a relief he offers!

We aren’t quite as fond of this:

Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few. (Mattew 7:13-14)

What? I thought he offered “easy and light”. This says it’s hard! It’s the same Teacher, saying both things. Did he change his mind? Was he confused?

If we pay attention to the details, we notice the metaphors aren’t the same. It’s the yoke and the burden that are easy, it’s the road that’s hard. Different metaphors, so very likely he’s talking about two different things.

I think we find explanation in what he shares with his disciples at the meal before his arrest. Here are a couple of excerpts:

If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours. (John 15:19-20)

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world. (John 16:33)

The wide, easy way sounds a lot like being loved by the world. No friction, easy going. But where it’s going isn’t where we want to go. The world hating us, persecuting us, yeah that sounds like the hard way. But it’s the way to life. Jesus offering us peace sounds the same as his offer of the lighter, easier load. But he doesn’t offer to take away the tribulation. What he offers is his success in overcoming the world. Overcoming the persecution, the tribulation, and also the wide easy way to death.

Never does he say he’ll make the road easy. What he says is that he’ll share the load, while walking the road. Notice whose yoke it is? It’s his. He’s offering us a spot yoked together with him. He’s already been down this road, and he overcame it. So now he’s offering to lighten our load by helping us. In fact, taking off of us the load of sin that would ultimately break our backs, even as we slide down the wide and easy.

Hard, yes. The persecutions and tribulations aren’t magically gone. Also not gone is our own nature that really wants the wide and easy, even if it’s deadly. Alertness, endurance, perseverance—all those things we’re told we must have, aren’t easy.

Easy? Also yes. What a relief to offload the impossible burden. To have a powerful, immortal Lord offering to do the heavy lifting.

Love, Paul

What comes into your mind when you hear the word “shipwreck”? It’s an event far beyond merely bad, it’s desperately bad. A disaster. Literal shipwrecks result in huge losses for the owners of the ship and cargo. Often, there is loss of life too. There may be no survivors at all.

When the word is used figuratively, we would expect it to convey that same sense of total disaster, loss, possible death.

The word appears twice in the New Testament. The first time, it’s used of literal wrecks of literal ships. In 2 Corinthians, responding to allegations that he’s not a “real” apostle, Paul catalogs some of the things he’s suffered in order to preach the gospel. He admits that he’s “talking like a madman”—he doesn’t like doing this, but feels compelled. In the middle of the catalog, he says, “Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I was adrift at sea.” (2 Corinthians 11:25)

Can you imagine? Being shipwrecked three times? And this doesn’t even include the one shipwreck we have information about in Acts 27. That event hadn’t happened yet when he wrote 2 Corinthians. One of those wrecks left him adrift, presumably hanging onto some piece of wood, for a whole night then the whole following day. Any shipwreck poses life-threatening dangers, but in this one his survival would have been in serious doubt.

The second time this word appears, Paul uses it figuratively. By this time he has gone through that fourth (or more?) shipwreck of Acts 27. That wreck comes at the end of a two-week horrendous storm, during which, we’re told, “All hope of our being saved was at last abandoned.” (verse 20) Later, an angel assured Paul that they would in fact survive, and they did—but the ship was pounded to pieces and they all had to swim to shore in violent surf. The terror of that experience would be indelible.

So just think about what Paul has in mind when he writes this:

This charge I entrust to you, Timothy, my child, in accordance with the prophecies previously made about you, that by them you may wage the good warfare, holding faith and a good conscience. By rejecting this, some have made shipwreck of their faith. (1 Timothy 1:18-19)

Given his experiences, I don’t think Paul would use the word “shipwreck” casually. Shipwreck means terror, horrific loss, threat to life. Paul is trying to convey just how devastating, spiritually, it is to suppress conscience. Later in the letter, Paul talks about people abandoning the true faith, “whose consciences are seared.”

When our conscience tells us that something isn’t right, and we clamp a lid on it, and go ahead with what we want… Well, that’s something to take pretty seriously. It’s the mortal enemy of our faith.

Thankfully, some shipwrecks can be survived. Paul holds himself up as an example here as well. He confesses the wrongs he did when he was Saul the persecutor. It’s safe to say that his faith was shipwrecked, and he was operating within a system that had no place for faith, only rigid law. But look what the Lord Jesus was able to do with him! Paul survived multiple literal shipwrecks, and a spiritual one as well. He learned, and we can learn, to hold on to conscience instead of ignoring it—and steer the ship away from the rocks—instead of crashing right into them.

Love, Paul

Jesus said things that were hard to understand. And he said some things that were understood, but were hard to accept. The prime example occurs on the day following the feeding of the 5,000. The crowd came wanting more free food and Jesus rebuked them for it, then went on to talk about eating his body and drinking his blood. This was appalling language—and still is. The result? “When many of his disciples heard it, they said, ‘This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?’… After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him.” (John 6:26-69)

There were other hard things Jesus said. A young man wanted to know what he should do to gain eternal life. The response: “Jesus said to him, ‘If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.’ When the young man heard this he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions.” (Matthew 19:21-22) It was a hard saying for this young man, but Jesus went on to address everyone:

And Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly, I say to you, only with difficulty will a rich person enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.” When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astonished, saying, “Who then can be saved?” (Matthew 19:23-25)

Wealth gets in the way of following Jesus. Most of those reading this live in prosperous countries. We may not think of ourselves as wealthy, by comparison with the ultra-rich. But in fact we enjoy a level of wealth unimaginable in the time of that young man. What Jesus has to say to us here is a hard saying. Probably we don’t go away sorrowful. We’re more likely to ignore it as if it didn’t apply to us—which is worse.

About a third of Jesus’s parables are about the judgment to occur at his return. Every one of these ends with a hard saying for someone. For example, the parable of the tenants of the vineyard ends: “He will put those wretches to a miserable death and let out the vineyard to other tenants.” Was this a hard saying? The religious authorities thought so. “When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they perceived that he was speaking about them.” (Matthew 21:33-45) Jesus was telling them that a miserable death awaited them.

The parables of judgment all end with the rejection, banishment or destruction of some, while others enjoy salvation. It’s real easy to put ourselves into the “good” group and think the “bad” ones are someone else. But who did Jesus speak those parables to? Indeed, some were addressed particularly to the hypocritical religious authorities. But a lot of them were spoken to the disciples and the crowds who were followers of Jesus. We’re followers, right? In the parable of the various soils (Luke 8:4-15), we might think of ourselves as the good soil, just because the seed of the gospel has sprouted in us. But the Lord cautions us, there’s such a thing as rocky soil where the seed sprouts, but then withers when trouble comes. And there are brambles—the cares and preoccupations of this life—which choke out the seed’s growth. What Jesus has to say here isn’t an easy saying. He intends us, I believe, to take it as (potentially at least) a hard saying. Something to make us look within, to see if the gospel is withering or choking.

Another hard saying. “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26-27) We are prone to softening this. Or simply not looking at it.

I hope I’m not being too depressing here. I’m not suggesting we wallow in guilt because we aren’t perfect, we have failed. Yes, the standard is set very high by our Lord. But he also said, “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” (Luke 12:32) He wants us to be the good soil, the sheep not the goats, the ones who find the narrow path. He wants us to be the tree that bears good fruit, and he’s willing to put in the labor to dig around and fertilize, giving us every chance. (Luke 13:6-9)

The hard sayings are meant to motivate us, to keep us from just coasting. Remember, it’s the wide, easy way that leads to destruction. The hard sayings are, well, hard. The Lord intends we not just gloss over them. That we put some effort into understanding them. That cautioned by them, we choose the less easy way, the way to life.

Love, Paul

It seems like Jesus’s disciples were focused much of the time on trivialities, things that were very short term or weren’t really important.

Possibly the most glaring example was when Jesus warned them to watch out for the leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees, and they immediately thought he was criticizing them for not bringing along some bread. Jesus was justifiably frustrated with them: “How is it that you fail to understand that I did not speak about bread?” (Matthew 16:5-12) A bit short on food for a day? A trivial problem. Getting caught up in the mindset of twisting the Law to serve your own ends? Now that’s a serious problem.

Martha was anxious about preparing a meal. Jesus put things in perspective: “You are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:38-42) Getting one meal ready on time? A trivial problem. Listening to and absorbing the Lord’s teaching? That’s important.

Judas may have had an ulterior motive, but all the rest joined in criticizing Mary for “wasting” the ointment that could have been sold and the proceeds donated. Jesus made it clear that the donation option was, if not trivial, definitely not top of the list: “You always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them. But you will not always have me.” (Mark 14:3-9, John 12:3-8) Donations are good, but missing out on one? Not important compared to honoring and serving the Lord.

And here’s one they finally got. Jesus taught his followers, ““Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” (Mattew 5:11-12) The disciples were adamant that they would never abandon Jesus, even if they had to die. (Matthew 26:31-35) What actually happened? They all ran away. (verse 56)

But after Jesus was raised, they got it. When the very first persecution came down on them, we read, “When they had called in the apostles, they beat them and charged them not to speak in the name of Jesus, and let them go. Then they left the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name. And every day, in the temple and from house to house, they did not cease teaching and preaching that the Christ is Jesus.” (Acts 5:40-42) Beaten (probably the 39 lashes) for your faith? Trivial. Continuing to preach and teach about Jesus Christ, rejoicing even in suffering for it? Now that’s important.

Love, Paul