A Conversation with The 1848

The 1848’s approach to music is one grounded in honesty, humility and the ongoing struggle of living a life of faith. Based out of Ann Arbor, Michigan, Charles Cintron is the producer and artist behind The 1848. He creates music that blends atmospheric indie textures and alternative rock and hip hop: crafting a tone that speaks to the tension between surrender and overcoming. 

WCF Music chatted with Charles about faith, family, creativity, and the vision behind The 1848.

Charles, tell us a little about yourself?

I live in Ann Arbor with my wife and our two young girls. A lot of life right now is balancing family, work, faith, and music, which honestly is probably where a lot of the songs come from too. There’s joy in this season, but also dependence on God in a way I didn’t fully understand before.

Where does the music come from for you?

Music has always been tied to faith for me. A lot of the songs come from wrestling through things before God. I struggle with doubt, enduring through trials and repentance, so I’m not really interested in creating music that pretends life is simple.

For me, faith isn’t loud victories and certainty. Often it’s returning to God time and again and I want the music to reflect that.

I’ve always been more drawn to the sounds of indie, alternative rock and hip hop because I feel those styles carry a lot of different emotions. Some ideas need space and atmosphere, while others need weight and tension behind them and those genres allow me to express them all.

You’ve shared that your music is deeply personal. Do you see songwriting more as confession, worship, or prayer to God?

Probably all three. Some songs feel like prayers, others feel like conversations I need to have with myself before God. And sometimes worship looks less like celebration and more like surrender. 

I think there’s something more powerful about being honest before God instead of trying to sound spiritually impressive. Scripture is full of people crying out, struggling, repenting and hoping: David, the Lord Jesus, Hannah and Nehemiah, to name a few. 

If the music encourages people, I hope it’s because it points beyond me and toward a God who is patient and faithful with imperfect people.

You write and produce everything yourself. What has that process been like?

I write the songs and produce everything through a program called FL Studio. I’m mostly self-taught when it comes to mixing and mastering, and I feel like I’m learning constantly.

There’s something humbling about that process because it reminds me that growth takes time. You keep refining things little by little, which is what this new album ‘Refined’, is all about. I think faith can be similar in a way; God works on us patiently over time.

I wouldn’t call myself an engineer by any means, but I enjoy learning how to better communicate emotion and meaning through the production itself, not just the lyrics.

I’ve been wondering, where does the name “The 1848” come from?

1848 references the early roots of the Christadelphian movement. The name mattered to me because I wanted the project to point toward something bigger than myself.

I intentionally didn’t use my own name as the artist name because I never wanted this to just become about me individually. My hope was that The 1848 could be more about believers joining together in expression of faith and praise of God.

That’s interesting, so you never intended The 1848 to just be a solo project?

From the beginning, I hoped it could become something larger than one voice behind a microphone. More believers contributing. More expressions of worship. More people using their gifts to praise God honestly and creatively.

Even if I’m the one writing and producing most of it right now, the vision has always been bigger than me personally.

A lot of spiritual music focuses on certainty and victory. Your music often sits in tension. Why is that important to you?

Because I think that’s where a lot of people actually live. There are seasons where faith feels strong and clear, but there are also seasons of grief, confusion, waiting, failure, and rebuilding. Ignoring those realities can make people feel isolated when they struggle.

I don’t want to glorify hopelessness, but I do think there’s hope in honesty. I believe that God meets people in real places, not just polished ones.

What do you hope people walk away with after hearing ‘Refined’?

I hope people are reminded that pursuing God is worthwhile, not because we do it perfectly, but because His grace is real. If someone listens to the music and feels understood, and draws closer to God through it, then I’m grateful for that. 

To me, faith isn’t a surface identity or an aesthetic. It’s daily and ongoing, sometimes difficult, but it’s also full of purpose, mercy, and hope.

Blinded by jealousy, King Saul tries repeatedly to murder David. Even though David faithfully serves Saul, having remarkable military success against Israel’s enemies. And even though David is Saul’s own son-in-law. What is he jealous of?

And the women sang to one another as they celebrated, “Saul has struck down his thousands, and David his ten thousands.” And Saul was very angry, and this saying displeased him. He said, “They have ascribed to David ten thousands, and to me they have ascribed thousands, and what more can he have but the kingdom?” And Saul eyed David from that day on. (1 Samuel 18:7-9)

Soon after, Saul tries to kill David for the first time. He fails but makes more attempts, and eventually sends a squad of soldiers to assassinate David at his home.

David runs, becomes a fugitive. He hides out in caves, he keeps moving. He gets help now and then, but it’s usually only temporary.

But David isn’t alone.

David departed from there and escaped to the cave of Adullam. And when his brothers and all his father's house heard it, they went down there to him. And everyone who was in distress, and everyone who was in debt, and everyone who was bitter in soul, gathered to him. And he became commander over them. And there were with him about four hundred men. (1 Samuel 22:1-2)

It’s very telling that David’s family leaves home and joins him. What makes people abandon everything and become refugees? Saul must have decided to go after the family when he couldn’t track down David. This is really vile. So David appeals to the king of Moab to shelter his family (verses 3-4 – remember, David’s great-grandmother was Ruth the Moabite).

But it isn’t only the family that joins David out in the wild. Who are these others? Most translations read, “those in distress, those in debt, those who are discontented.”

Are these folks simply malcontents, grumblers? The Hebrew words, as far as I can determine relying on lexicons, seem to be stronger.

“Distress” can be pretty bad, and the Hebrew word behind it is sometimes rendered “anguish”. Think about how bad your anguish would have to be, that you take off to live on the run.

The next category is “debtors”, which seems to mean just that. But again, how deep is your debt, how threatening is your creditor, that you would leave everything behind? Taking your chances with the one designated the most wanted criminal in the country?

The translation “discontented” may perhaps flavor our thinking about these people. The literal meaning of the Hebrew is “bitter in soul”, as in the ESV translation quoted. That sounds way worse than simple discontent.

We need to ask: however severe the distress or anguish, however deep the debt, however bitter life has become—what makes these people join David? It seems to me that the government, under Saul, has made conditions really, really terrible. But they know David, at least by reputation, and they know he’s a leader they can follow.

Who are the refugees? Well, they’re just people. Farmers, artisans, traders, so forth. What happens when they run to David? As we continue with his story through the rest of 1 Samuel, we see that somehow, David molds these people into a fighting force, and not just an armed rabble. They are an elite force that piles up victories over armies of Israel’s enemies. In what David does with these men, we get a glimpse of what a terrific general David is. A superb tactician, an outstanding trainer and organizer, a leader who inspires fierce loyalty.

Why do the runaways flock to David? Where else can they go?

But it’s more than that. Way back at the beginning, the unnamed person in Saul’s court who first brought attention to David, says this:

One of the young men answered, “Behold, I have seen a son of Jesse the Bethlehemite, who is skillful in playing, a man of valor, a man of war, prudent in speech, and a man of good presence, and the LORD is with him.” (1 Samuel 16:18)

That last phrase is the key. “The Lord is with him.” And people could see it.

In our own lives, whatever the distress or anguish, whatever the debt (probably not money), whatever the bitterness of soul that may afflict us, we have someone to run to. The anointed Son of David can take us in, can make us part of his loyal group, can mold us into something effective. Can change us from whatever we were before into people who fight his (spiritual) enemies. Because the Lord is with him.

Why the Son of David? Where else could we go?

Love, Paul

Many languages have a rich variety of words for some concept or thing. We’re told the peoples native to the Arctic have numerous words for snow. In New Testament Greek , you’ve probably heard that there are multiple words for love. And so on.

I’ve just found that in Old Testament Hebrew, there are a number of words which convey quiet, calm, comfort, consolation, stillness, peace. And look at that—English has a bunch of words too!

I won’t attempt anything even close to a comprehensive look at all this. Just sticking to the Psalms, and to a couple of the Hebrew words, there are helpful things to absorb. Right now, are you feeling calm? If you are, that’s wonderful! But it seems to me there’s an awful lot of agitation around, the opposite of calm.

What do the Psalms have to teach us? Here is a famous one:

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. (Psalm 23:4)

Immediately before this, the psalmist gives us a restful picture of green pastures and still waters. Easy to be calm then. But now he’s talking about facing death. And he’s comforted, without fear, even then.

Consider this counsel:

Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him; fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way, over the man who carries out evil devices! (Psalm 37:7)

Don’t fret, be still, even when injustice or wrongdoing seem to prevail. Hard, really hard.

When there’s agitation all around us…no, wait. There is always agitation around us. But there are times when it gets really bad, when it’s scaring us to death. The psalmist looks back on such times and says this. (You might want to reread this entire psalm.)

Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress. He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed. (Psalm 107:28-29)

Does this make you think of anything? Sure:

And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” (Mark 4:39-40)

Jesus sort of asks them, “Don’t you remember Psalm 107? Don’t you believe it?” Can we possibly think he asks anything different of us?

Jesus says directly to his followers (and that means to us):

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)

Certainly David had plenty of troubles, plenty of “wind and waves”, in his life. In his psalms he lets us see into his heart, including times when he was very troubled and agitated. He also lets us see the times he was calm, confident and unafraid. The calm is so much better, as he shows us by his example:

O LORD, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me. But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me. (Psalm 131:1-2)

We can’t do much about our agitated world. But we can know calm even if the world does not. Our soul can be quieted, because Jesus has overcome the world.

Love, Paul

Rahab the Canaanite believed in the God of Israel, and was welcomed into Israel. Ruth the Moabite the same. These two were early examples of a principle that was clear in the Law of Moses, and was then made very clear in the New Testament. The nationality we’re born into does not matter. What matters is faith in the God of Israel, extended in the New Testament to include His Son the Lord Jesus Christ.

Peter was sent by the Lord to a Roman soldier named Cornelius, as a demonstration. Peter himself had to be convinced, but ultimately he declared, “Truly I understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.” (Acts 10:34-35)

At the time, this was a radical idea. Arguably it shouldn’t have been. Yes, Jesus came as the Jewish Messiah, in fulfillment of promises God made to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the forefathers of the nation of Israel. Mostly Jesus did operate within the land promised to those patriarchs and to the nation. However on several occasions, Jesus himself interacted with, healed and even praised faithful Gentiles. (John 4:5-42, Matthew 15:21-28, Matthew 8:5-13, Mark 5:1-20, Luke 17:11-19) Jesus had also commissioned his apostles to spread the gospel message to all nations. (Mark 16:15-16, Acts 1:8)

The apostles ought to have gotten the hint. They didn’t, hence the powerful demonstration the Lord provided through Cornelius and his family and friends. Most of the believers got it: “Then to the Gentiles also God has granted repentance that leads to life.” (Acts 11:18)

Unfortunately, there was a stubborn core within the early church, who insisted that non-Jews become Jews first, by means of circumcision and keeping the Law of Moses—only then could they be Christians. These folks made trouble through the rest of the New Testament. Paul in particular had to deal with this over and over. (Galatians 3, Acts 15:1-21, Ephesians 2:11-22)

But nationality and social status simply do not matter to Jesus Christ. Paul put it plainly: “Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.” (Colossians 3:11)

I can hear you thinking, “Yeah, yeah, so what’s your point?” I’m pretty sure none of this is new for you.

Here’s the point. The folks who were making trouble over these distinctions, weren’t unbelievers. They were brothers and sisters in Christ, members of the church—but they were still carrying baggage they’d brought in from their previous lives. It put them on the wrong side of the work of Christ, and that’s a place we don’t want to be.

We may not like to admit it, but we humans are prone to this problem. The world around us vigorously promotes nationalism. Could some of that baggage get carried in? Of course it could. You may have seen it.

We want to be on the right side of the work of Christ. The great “faith chapter” shows us what it looks like:

For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city. (Hebrews 11:14-16)

No earthly nation claimed their loyalty. Their hearts belonged only to the heavenly one.

Love, Paul

We may think of Paul as the apostle to the Gentiles—which he certainly was. But he was also the “thankful apostle”. Of the 69 times in the New Testament where thankfulness is mentioned, 49 of them are in Paul’s letters. The only two times being thankful is mentioned in Acts, both are Paul. (The numbers in different translations vary, but only very slightly.)

More than anything else, we find Paul giving thanks for the people he’s writing to. Thankful for their faith, for their fellowship, for them being in his life.

Paul also refers several times to giving thanks for food, There’s no indication he’s worried about going hungry. Paul just thanks God for His daily gifts, acknowledging that what comes from God’s creation keeps us alive. It’s very clear that Paul regularly (likely always) gave thanks for his meals. This is a practice many believers embrace to this day, and clearly it’s well-founded. Not only Paul, either. Jesus also gave thanks for food. Including at the last supper, giving thanks for both the bread and the wine—which he forever connected to his coming sacrifice.

I’m guessing here, but I suspect that you who are reading this, often or always, give thanks for your food. But maybe not as often for fellow believers, those around you and (like Paul) those who are distant. Even those you haven’t met, as Paul does.

Paul was a man of prayer. Much prayer. I wish my prayer life was as rich, as extensive, and as selfless as his. But wishing isn’t very fruitful, is it? We have to go beyond wishing.

A few examples that we (that I ) might take to heart:

First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for all of you, because your faith is proclaimed in all the world. For God is my witness, whom I serve with my spirit in the gospel of his Son, that without ceasing I mention you always in my prayers, asking that somehow by God's will I may now at last succeed in coming to you. (Romans 1:8-10)

This is what I’ve been talking about. There are several like this in other letters. In this case, he had never been there! So, how am I doing in praying for and giving thanks for distant brothers and sisters? How about those I haven’t even met?

You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God. For the ministry of this service is not only supplying the needs of the saints but is also overflowing in many thanksgivings to God. (2 Corinthians 9:11-12)

The point of generous giving is not so that we are thanked—it is so that God will be thanked. So first, am I giving generously? And then, do I direct all the thanks to God?

Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

Give thanks in ALL circumstances. There are some circumstances that it seems pretty hard to be thankful for.

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly… with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:15-17)

This passage gives us the title for theses thoughts: “And be thankful.” Just decide to be. Am I making that decision? Let the peace of Christ fill me. Let the word of Christ dwell in me. Whatever I do, do it thankfully, in the name of the Lord Jesus. How am I doing with all of that?

The “thankful apostle” didn’t have things easy. Far, far from it. But here he is, overflowing with thankfulness. Showing us how it’s done.

Love, Paul

When we think about prophets in the Bible, we don’t always think to include Elizabeth, mother of John the Baptist, and Mary, mother of Jesus. But both of these women prophesy, when Mary goes to visit Elizabeth after angelic announcements of miraculous motherhood to both of them.  This meeting is recorded in Luke 1:39-55.

The prophecy Mary gives is often called the “magnificat”, because she begins, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…”  She then goes on to make a series of inspired pronouncements. A number of them are straightforward, but some others are a little puzzling.  Let’s look at the whole set, one by one.

• “He has looked on the humble estate of his servant.”  She’s talking about herself. The phrase “looked on” is an idiom for answered prayer. (See Genesis 29:32 for example.)  Implication: Mary had been praying that she would be the mother of Messiah.

• “All generations will call me blessed.”  Quite true, of course. She was blessed indeed, although her role would never be easy.

• Three true statements about God: “He who is mighty has done great things for me.”  “Holy is his name.”  “His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.”

And now come some pronouncements that should make us think, “Wait a minute…”

• “He has shown strength with his arm.”  The pregnancy is indeed a miraculous demonstration of God’s power, but it isn’t (yet) shown, made known.

• “He has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.”  How? The proud are not yet put to shame.

• “He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate.”  Again, how?  There has been no threat, let alone actual displacement, of the mighty.

• “He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.”  Same again. This hasn’t happened.  The rich are still the rich and powerful, and the bottom layers are still not satisfied with good.  So, we must understand that these pronouncements are prophecies.

After these, Mary returns to what is true, glorious, and indeed worthy of praise:

• “He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy.”  Yes, the advent of the Messiah is immense.  “Helped” is a tremendous understatement.  This will be the salvation of Israel, and of all humanity.

• “As he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”  Yes, this linkage to the promises God made to Abraham is vitally important.  Jesus is to be the promised offspring, and the promises are forever.

Gabriel had explicitly said that the child to be born to Mary would be the fulfillment of the promise to David, that Jesus would be the Son of David, King over Israel forever.  Mary understands the implications.  As the New Testament begins, “The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.” (Matthew 1:1)  Mary understands—if Jesus is the promised offspring of David, he must also be the promised offspring of Abraham.

And I think Mary makes another connection, which is the reason for those prophecies in the middle, which aren’t actually true yet.  God hasn’t yet, but surely will, show to everyone the power of His arm, thwart the proud, bring down the mighty, reverse the dominance of the rich over the humble poor.  To accomplish this, human nature itself must be conquered.  Mary, I believe, makes the connection all the way back to the Garden of Eden, when God promises that the offspring of the woman will defeat and deal a death-blow to sin, and to its offspring, death.

All that is wrong with mankind will be rectified, by the grace of God working through Jesus Christ.  We can surely join Mary in praising the Almighty for His gracious promises, and see in them our own hope and redemption.  Yes, He has done great things for me.  My soul should magnify the Lord.  Holy is His name!

Love, Paul

At birth my parents gave me the name “Paul”. Partly in honor of a grandfather, whose middle name was Paul. (I got the other grandfather’s first name as my middle name.) But besides the family connection, my parents named me for the apostle Paul. Giving me a reminder, every time I heard or wrote my name, that this was a person they hoped I would aspire to be like.

Jesus’s Dad did the same for His Son. Gabriel announced to Mary that she would have a son, who would also be the Son of God. And the angel conveyed the Father’s choice of name for him: Joshua. “Jesus” is how the name comes to us—the English form of the Greek form of the Hebrew. There’s actually no ‘J’ sound in either Hebrew or Greek, so it would have been pronounced something like “Yahshua”.

This name has a meaning: “Yah saves”—Yah being the short form of Yahvah (or Yahweh). So you see, the Father also included the family name in the name of His Son.

Sorry if this is all something you’ve heard many times before. My reason for bringing it up is that I was reading in the book of Joshua this morning, and I found myself reading the first chapter in a way I hadn’t seen before.

Take a minute, right here, and go read the first nine verses of Joshua chapter 1. Yeah, now. That’s right.

These verses are God’s charge to Joshua, who has just become the leader of Israel because Moses has died. The Lord God speaks directly to Joshua, gives him his commission. What I hadn’t done before was to read the verses as the Lord God speaking to the other Joshua, His Son. If we read it that way, what charge is the Father giving to the Son?

“Every place that the sole of your foot will tread upon I have given to you.” (verse 3) Jesus walked the length and breadth of the Land of Promise in the course of his ministry. And every foot of it will be his—as promised to Abraham.

“No man shall be able to stand before you all the days of your life.” (verse 5) His opponents tried, with everything at their disposal, to entangle or discredit Jesus. But they never could. Their last recorded attempt ends with, “No one was able to answer him a word, nor from that day did anyone dare to ask him any more questions.” (Matthew 22:46)

“I will be with you. I will not leave you or forsake you.” (verse 5) Jesus says, “[All of you] will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me.” (John 16:32)

“Be strong and courageous, for you shall cause this people to inherit the land that I swore to their fathers to give them.” (verse 6) This was literally the work of Messiah, to fulfill the promises to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob—to cause all the faithful to inherit the land.

“Be careful to do according to all the law that Moses my servant commanded you. Do not turn from it to the right hand or to the left, that you may have good success wherever you go.” (verse 7) Jesus was the only one ever to never turn aside from God’s Law. He fulfilled it all. (Matthew 5:17-19)

And finally: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.” (verse 9)

What do you think Jesus is thinking about when he reads these verses? He’s being addressed, by name. God charges not only the ancient Joshua, He charges His Son Joshua. This is the Messiah’s commission. It seems to me that this commission would be something he thinks about often. The assurance of the promises, his role in delivering them, the encouragement (“be courageous”). The assurance that his God is always there for him, will never abandon him.

Jesus famously gave his apostles “the great commission”, pieces of which are recorded in the final verses of Matthew, Mark and Luke, and the first chapter of Acts. We don’t think as often about the commission given to Jesus himself. But I think we can be sure that he did.

Love, Paul

Here’s one you know the answer to. Is it a good thing to be childlike? Of course you got it. Jesus says it’s more than good—it’s essential:

And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:2-4)

But Jesus called them to him, saying, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God.” (Luke 18:16)

But (and you may have thought about this yourself) Paul and the writer of the Hebrews letter actually criticize childlikeness:

When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. (1 Corinthians 13:11)

[He gave gifts so] we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children. (Ephesians 4:13-14)

For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil. (Hebrews 5:12-14)

Even Jesus himself notes how children tend to behave in ways that aren’t commendable. He says his opponents reflect this aspect of child behavior:

But to what shall I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to their playmates, “We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn.” (Matthew 11:16-17)

What are we to make of all this? Paul, I think, resolves the apparent discrepancy:

Brothers, do not be children in your thinking. Be infants in evil, but in your thinking be mature. (1 Corinthians 14:20)

When we look at more passages that talk about us as “children”—in the writings of Peter and John and quite a few others by Paul himself—a fuller picture emerges. The answer to the original question is: In some ways, yes—be children. But kids aren’t perfect, are they? They can be cruel, they lack experience and good judgment, they act in inappropriate ways. Sometimes they are rebellious, disobedient to any sort of moral standard or restraint, even to their own hurt.

What do parents want for their children? They want them to grow up. We are repeatedly reminded that we are the children of God. Whatever we were like in our prior life, we are told that in belief and baptism we are “born again”. We go back to being infants, spiritually. “To such belongs the kingdom of God,” Jesus says. But we aren’t to stop there. Our Father wants to see us grow up, “to mature adulthood”. Even, eventually, “to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ”.

Seems like an impossible goal. Which doesn’t mean we give up and simply remain “children in our thinking”. It takes a lifetime for true spiritual children to grow up. What our Father delights to see is His children always growing in maturity, but never forgetting that we are His children.

Love, Paul

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