The Pain of Love as a Means of Grace

Thomas Boston (1676–1732)

"So do men oftentimes find their greatest cross, where they expected their greatest comfort. Sin hath unhinged the whole creation, and made every relation susceptible of the crook."

From Crook in the Lot, by Thomas Boston, page 37 in the Christian Heritage edition

Another Reason Why the Christian Life is So Hard

Because, "Those whom the Lord loves He disciplines. 

And He scourges every son whom He receives."

Proverbs 3:11-12, cited in Hebrews 12:6

A Reason Why the Christian Life is So Hard

Michael Horton

"The reason why the Christian life is so hard, is so difficult, is because we can't help but fight them [sins]; not because we're good but because we're in Christ; because we're new creatures. That's what's so hard about the Christian life. On the basis of God's action we're called to action. But it's not to complete Christ's mission. It's to come to terms with Christ's mission and work every day. What Paul is saying here is stop letting sin bully you. Stop letting sin push you around. 'For sin shall not have dominion over you, for you are not under law, but under grace.'" -- Michael Horton commenting on a portion of Romans 6.

What Would Love Do?

Pour out Your wrath on them; 

let Your fierce anger overtake them. . .

For they persecute those You wound 

and talk about the pain of those You hurt.

Psalm 69:24 & 26

It is a false kind of Christianity that assumes, if not insists, that God means a good reputation and pleasantness always for His people, and then wrongly judges those who do not have these. It is the testimony of God Himself that such nonsense is in fact nonsense. Woe to those who propagate the lies. Woe to the professing believer who lives as though this world is all there is. And woe to the ones who speak evil of those God is afflicting. And woe to the foolish that credit the followers of Jesus with causing too many of the troubles that fall upon them. And woe to each of us that takes no action to relieve said troubles, for, says David, "I looked for sympathy, but there was none, for comforters, but I found none" (v20).

If we're going to bear the burdens of our brothers and sisters in Christ (which is commanded as an expression and fulfillment of Jesus' love - Ga 6), it necessarily means carrying at least a portion of the weight that presently rests exclusively upon them. I suggest a weekly discussion with your family, (or if single, with yourself) to consider whom you may relieve, bless, and help. Consider thoughtfully their wounds and ask yourself, "If I were in their situataion, what would I need?" Pray and strive against the selfishness-fueled uselessness that marks so many of us. We tend to be a soft and silly people, whose values and pursuits and preoccupations are basically the same as those of the pagan. May God grant that we evermore be marked by sacrificial and refreshing neighbor love.

Jesus pronounces blessing on those who suffer for Him and what He loves; and makes them grand promises of reward (Lk 6:22; Mt 5:10-12); while He pronounces curses on those of whom all speak well (Lk 6:26). How far we are from the heart and mind of the Son of God, and the message of the Scriptures that reveal Him.

A Zellism

It's been a month since I last posted. That's no way operate a blog. I apologize to both of my readers.

"Faith is not faith which is not tried."

Katherine Zell (1498-1558), Reformer

And you shall remember the whole way that the LORD your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart. . .

Dt 8:2

Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. . .

1 Pe 4:12

. . .the testing of your faith produces endurance. . .

Ja 1:3 

God Over All: Meditations on Job's Hope

"Is there anything I can do for You, is there anything I can do?

For all the things You've done for me, is there anything I can do?

Is there anywhere I can go for You, is there anywhere I can go?

For all the places You've been for me, is there anywhere I can go?

Is there anything I can be for You, is there anything I can be?

For all the things You've been for me, is there anything I can be?

I'm willing to be used dear Lord whatever the price may be. 

So if there's anything I can do for you just make it known to me."

I grew up singing to God the lines above, normally at youth group events. I meant the words. I believed I had something to offer; that there was spiritual work to be done, by me, for Jesus.

I was arrogant. I was foolish. I was neurotic, and largely spiritually blind. I made promises I couldn't keep and held expectations I couldn't match with performance. I was terrified of failure and too ignorant to succeed. I wanted to exert strength for a God who was calling me to embrace my weakness. But men don't naturally value weakness. We hate weakness, especially our own.

I read my Bible a lot. And being a son of Adam, I was unwittingly drawn to its commands and to its "heroes." At 15 I committed myself to pursue Christian ministry as a vocation. I led the religious clubs in my high school and was awarded the "most-Christlike" award by my youth group. Apparently its members were also blind. But I understand. I played the part well, in some measure because I was sincere, and I think I was actually a Christian, meaning I had faith in Christ to cover my sins and get me to His Father. But I regularly functioned like a Pharisee, guarding the Law I couldn't keep and imposing my version of it upon others. I was sinfully hard on people, and generally merciless. I hate that guy. But I can't seem to kill him. So in this life, repeatedly wounding him is my lot. After high school I gained a religious studies degree at university and then off to seminary for the MDiv. That's the normal course for a fellow like the me of then.

But God is patient, and merciful. He has been content to take a lifetime to shatter the idols and images of self. His work continues. If 2015 hasn't been about that then I don't know what to make of it.  In an effort to keep this post on the brief side, I want to mention (with little explanation; maybe I can expand that in later posts) only two hard lessons from this past year of the divine scourge (Pr 3:11-12; Cf He 11-12).

1. God the Holy Spirit's work of sanctification might be more about teaching weakness than it is about instilling righteousness. By my best and most generous estimation, I am not a better man than I was 365 days ago, or twenty years ago. But I am more aware of my own profound weakness. And I am learning that any progress in holiness is necessarily gained through that weakness. And I am now sure of my all-engulfing need for God to act on my behalf. I cannot produce what He commands. I cannot, in the ways that matter most, change myself, improve myself, help myself, provide for myself, or sanctify myself. This fresh awareness has been shaping what I expect of myself, and others. From the first man Adam to the model of faith Abraham to King David to the Prophet Jeremiah to the Apostle Paul to us on this first day of 2016, the aim of God for His people continues to be our humiliation, not our glory (See Php 2, for example).

2. We are too weak to have recourse. This, like lesson 1, runs throughout the Scriptures and is written over every life. And it is a further comment on the one above about needing God to act on our behalf. Perhaps it is seen most clearly in Job's life. When the horrors of our existence are discussed by those given to philosophy, the old dilemma is often restated - that either God is good but not powerful, or powerful but not good - otherwise He would not permit said horrors. I have never heard of anyone suffering as Job did; yet, he doesn't seem to wrestle with his miseries in the usual way. He actually affirms God's sovereign power and God's comprehensive justice. He would say, I think, that God can do anything He wants, and that all He wants is right; and that's his struggle - the absence of recourse. What can a man do with God? How can a man move God? How might a man wrestle with God? Who can make a case against God? Job cannot. We cannot. And when we learn this in our distresses and pressures and losses and pains, perhaps we will behave as Job did when he prayed:

"I loathe my life; I would not live forever.

Leave me alone, for my days are a breath.

What is man, that you make so much of him, 

and that you set your heart on him,

visit him every morning and test him every moment?

How long will you not look away from me,

nor leave me alone till I swallow my spit?"

Job 7:16-19

When we take to heart that unless God acts, and in Job's case relents, we have no recourse, we might

request that He simply leave us be, and make the argument that we are not worth His emotional energies and divine activities toward us. Apparently Job didn't think much of himself, or even of humans in general. It appears he didn't consider himself worth God's attention in bringing good or evil upon him. And I think I hear the desperation in his plea - God please, please, "look away from me," and let me die and thereby gain relief. Why so much bother with me? Please, "leave me alone."

This reminds me of 1 Kings 19 where the prophet Elijah, in the distress God had brought upon him, prays It is enough O Lord, take my life. The divine beat-down is a soul-crushing, body-breaking,  overwhelming horror, designed that we might "learn not to rely on ourselves, but on God who raises the dead" (See 2 Co 1:8-10). God is impressed with His Son, not with me. And while I have longed to be impressive to Him, my gross failures have been good medicine. And they have caused me to become more impressed with Christ, who has Himself never failed and who has Himself been crushed by the full weight of the wrath of God for all of my sin. Isn't it astounding that He never tires of forgiving us. Clearly He is more committed to me than I am to Him.

I no longer make promises or pledges to God, in song or otherwise (which means I remain silent through many contemporary musical compositions). I quit that nonsense years ago. And I have given up on being spiritually impressive. Because when I look in a mirror, I do not see an able man, but a weak one. So the lyrics have changed, the song rewritten. Now it goes something like this:

Is there anything You will do for me; is there anything You will do? 

Since I have nothing to offer You, is there anything You will do? 

And is there anywhere You will go for me, is there anywhere You will go? 

Since I can go nowhere for You, is there anywhere You will go?

 

And will You be what I need today, will You be what I need?

Since I can't help myself today, will You be what I need?

I'd like to be used dear Lord, but I am frail and weak.

So if there's anything that You want from me, "Please grant it" is my plea.

"What a help You are to the weak!

How You have saved the arm without strength!"

Job 26:2   

Our Potipharian Prisons

It is clear in my mind that this post is for me, in the cathartic sense. That bag in the picture has been with me since 1987 when I was a junior in high school. Yesterday, twenty-eight years and several schools later, I carried it home at the end of my last week with the company for which I have been working for the past 670 days, give or take. I did shed a few tears, but not because I was leaving that work. I cried because I had been in it at all. 

I imagine it's like the tale of some who are freed from prison after serving their sentences. They may weep. But the tears are not born in the joy of their release. They are born in the misery of having been incarcerated, and the many losses that come with it.

That blue book bag carries many memories for me; the kind that cause me to consider burning it. I am a Christian. So I ought to run all experiences through the pages of Scripture, and I attempt to do so. I am also a man, and not a strong one. So I often find it difficult to see through the pain to the meanings that make it bearable. It's terribly trying for me to look back over twenty-eight years and make meaningful sense of much of it. Some say we write our own story. I say that's largely bullshit (See Pr 16, for example).

Frankly, the past three plus years have felt like my Israeli captivity (Ne 1:1-3); my Potipharian prison (Ge 39:20); my Jeremiahan cistern (Je 38:6); my Asian burden (2 Co 1:8-10). Of course life could be made more burdensome. And it very well may be.

Perhaps the comfort and hope is that God is more than a governor, He's also a redeemer. And if we traced out the stories, ultimately Israel and Joseph and Jeremiah and the Apostle Paul can be said to have benefited from their afflictions. But they were still real afflictions that had to really be endured.

Two of my recent co-workers pressed me yesterday about the reasons for my lack of excitement regarding my soon approaching move and new work (I imagine my disposition gave me away). They called me a pessimist.  I don't believe I'm a pessimist (Although I did tell them that excitement is for suckers). I think of myself more as a realist. And in reality, new things come with their own share of burdens. Moreover, they rarely deliver on the hype we might pour into them. Has anything ever positively been all that I thought it might be?

In addition, none of our earthly treasures are meant to be altogether or permanently satisfying. That's not their design. They are, after all, finite and fleeting. So for me to tie up in them an over-inflated (meaning idolatrous) hope, is foolish. I have a new work in a new place. Okay then. I hope to do some good. Time will tell.

Moving, with Mara; or, Faith is Not the Absence of Sadness

My family is moving today, again. Marian and I attempted recently to count our moves. We came up with eleven of them, plus the one today; twelve moves in 19 years. I have prayed many times that God would settle us; that He would give us a place and a season of the rest that comes with being planted somewhere. He has refused. So today, if you want to speak to me, you may call me Mara (Ru 1:20).

The truth is I can't see what God is doing. His hands are invisible hands. And His ways are past finding out (Ro 11:33-36). As the Scriptures tell repeatedly, God's providences are regularly hard ones, at least for some of His children. And those God-wrought hardships bring real loss, causing real pain, causing real sadness. And I've had my fill of the ignorant Christian proclaiming his/her  backward view on faith's relationship to such things. Faith, dear people, is not the absence of sadness (See Job, for example, or many of David's Psalms; or Lk 22, or 2 Co 1 & 4; or He 11; Etc, etc, etc).

Words That Carry The Difficult Day

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because he has anointed me. . .to provide for those who grieve in Zion--to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.

Isaiah 61:1a & 3.

For whom He foreknew He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son that He might be the firstborn among many brethren -- The Apostle Paul, Romans 8:29

We do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, of our trouble which came to us in Asia; that we were burdened beyond measure, above our strength, so that we despaired even of life. Yes, we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead. . . The Apostle Paul, 2 Corinthians 1:8-9

All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth -- Jesus, Matthew 28:18

This day's been crazy but everything's happened on schedule -- Caedmon's Call, Table for Two

The sum of which is that God has foreknown (foreloved) all of His own before He created them. This is the foundation for Paul's famous words at the end of Romans 8 that speak of the indestructible love of Christ from which the Christian cannot be separated. The proof of God's ongoing saving love for His people is that He has always been loving them as they are. In other words, when God was loving us before creation, He was not doing so ignorant of who we are and what we are like -- sinful. He knew us perfectly then and loved us perfectly nevertheless. This redeeming love, by grace, is forever the possession of the foreknown.

So when Paul says that he was troubled, burdened, despairing and dying as one of the foreloved, he means for us to take heart because God brings such trials upon us to teach us to trust Him and to strip us of our trust in ourselves.

And because all authority belongs to our Lord whose saving love for us is a constant, we may rest in His limiting of the pressure, since by it He means not to destroy us but purge us. In other words, our pain is planned. It is not random or haphazard. It is designed and sent as a tool in our sanctification. So Caedmon's is right - From our perspective this day may seem crazy. But everything is occurring on schedule - His schedule. Bless His holy name.