You Were There: (05/12/24)
So now how do you feel? Your father, your mentor, the man through
whose ministry you came to faith has just expressed the feeling that
he’d rather die than return to you. Okay, it may not be quite that
blunt, but it’s close. I know you need me, but I’m tired of this. I
want to go home. That’s got to sting just a little bit, even if you’re
receiving this as the loving letter that it is. Really, Paul? Are we
such a burden, then?
But it’s not that they are a burden. Not at all. It’s simply that
life is hard and full of hardship. You saw, after all, how things went
for Paul when he was there with you. Have things changed, that he
should expect better treatment this time? You heard, at least, of his
bum’s rush out of Thessalonica, and you probably know some of those who
have been pursuing him city to city, some of those who showed up in
Jerusalem, leading to this current predicament. You’ve heard,
certainly, of the near death experiences he endured between Israel and
Rome. And he’s not getting any younger. That body of his was worn
enough when you saw him. Of course he’s tired of the life for which he
was chosen.
But then, hear the heart of your pastor in this: Yes, I’d rather take
that course, but it’s off-limits. It’s every bit as much as it was
off-limits for him to go to Asia when the Spirit said to go to
Macedonia. Here is the needful work. Here is where I need you. And
what was his response? Yes, Lord, I go. What is his response now?
I’ll set aside my desire for their need. Here I am, Lord. Send me.
We’ll see his choice more explicitly in following verses, but it’s
already here. This may be my hunger, but it’s illicit and I cannot
follow it. Here is our Lord’s desire, and I shall set myself to pursue
it. As with my defense, so with my future: Come what may, I shall
exalt the Lord in my body.
New Thoughts: (05/13/24-05/15/24)
Is There a Choice? (05/13/24)
It’s curious to me how this passage is hitting. One would expect
that the opening verse, “For to me, to live is
Christ and to die is gain,” would be the obvious focal
point. It’s the piece that’s familiar, and so poignant. I still
recall that brother of mine, back on the Cape, singing the song built
upon this verse before the church so soon after having lost their
newborn. Never has that verse felt more earnestly expressed. Yet, as
I look at the passage containing that verse, it’s almost an aside, or
perhaps a preparatory note. Or perhaps we might see it as setting out
the guiding principle in his deliberations, or removing one aspect of
those deliberations. There is not, from his perspective, one path
that pursues Christ and another that doesn’t. Were that the case, the
choice would be easy. It’s because this aspect is equally to be found
in both directions that choice, to the degree there is choice, is
rendered such a challenge for him.
And thus, we arrive at verse 22, with its
conclusion, “I do not know which to choose.”
This, of course, takes me to the question that heads this section of
my notes: Is there a choice? In what sense was Paul in position to
choose the future? In what sense are any of us in such a position? I
suppose at some level we are probably asking, is Paul suicidal as he
writes this? But the overall flow of the letter precludes such a
thing. Is he, then, reflecting on an earlier state of affairs, a dark
period when such thoughts were not so far from him? I don’t think so,
though I can’t necessarily preclude the possibility. There is simply
too much of joyful confidence in this epistle to reach such a
conclusion.
What we are left with is a man of God considering what course it is
that God has ahead for him. He may be considering the options as a
hypothetical. The ERV takes that tack with its translation. “But
what would I choose – to live or to die? I don’t know.”
Certainly, such a rendering is within the range of the syntax. The
Future Tense can have that deliberative sense to it. And it’s not as
though this desire for home were something new for Paul. We hear much
the same desire expressed when he writes to the church in Corinth,
indeed, encouraging the self-same perspective for those to whom he
writes. “Being always of good courage, knowing
that while we are here in the body we are absent from the Lord – for
we walk by faith not sight – we are of good courage, much preferring
to be absent from this body and at home with the Lord. As such, we
have this as our ambition: Whether at home or absent, to be
pleasing to Him” (2Co 5:6-9). You
see the same deliberation there as he is working through here. What
would I choose? Would I choose the personal benefit of going home
now, or shall I choose the harder but more fruitful course of
remaining to continue the work?
But let me note a distinction. In that passage from 2Corinthians,
the will is expressed by eudokoumen. It
is a thinking well of the option, seeing the good of it. Here,
however, we have a different presentation of the option of going home
early. It is epithumian, which our
lexicons concur reflects the illicit desire of what is forbidden.
Now, there are attempts to ameliorate this in our translations,
footnotes insisting that this cannot be Paul’s intended meaning, given
that suicide is a sin. But on what basis the conclusion? After all,
Paul knows better than most that it is not within his power to
determine whether this day should be his last or not. He knows, as
should we, that God alone determines our days. And He determined them
long since.
I have written often enough of this perspective, and its interplay
with the urgent pursuit of mankind to find ways to prolong life, or
even achieve some sort of immortality. But immortality is not to be
had apart from God. Or, more properly, immortality apart from God is
His full and final just judgment upon those who reject Him and refuse
to love the Son. It is the acceding to man’s sinful desire. “This
is what you want? Well, enjoy!” But there is no enjoyment.
There is no joy. There is only sinful lust, and the destructive
fallout of lust fulfilled. There is no longer the hand of God
restraining. And you are not alone. You are together with manifold
others who also pursue their lustful desires without restraint,
without limit, and without a pause. But never again will there be any
hope of catching God’s ear, of repenting to any good effect. The case
is closed, and the doors closed after.
Immortal life, on the other hand, is to be had in
Christ or not at all. And it is to be had by His choosing or not at
all. He calls. We answer. It is ever this order. And He who calls
has numbered our days. He had them numbered and scheduled before the
work of Creation was properly begun, while all remained in the
planning stages. But the time and place of your birth? Settled. The
length of your days? Established. The means of your body’s death?
Likewise determined. This does not strip you of free choice as to how
you pursue your course. Not at all. Paul could make his choices
here. He remains a moral agent. So yes, in that sense, there is a
choice to be made. It could be said that in every act of our day we
are making that choice. Are we pursuing length of days, or seeking to
reduce the wait before we go home? I don’t think many of our choices
feel that significant as we are making them, but every choice lends
its weight to one course or the other, doesn’t it? Did you buckle
your seatbelt for that quick drive to the store? It matters. Did you
come to a full stop at the intersection? It matters. Are you
considering what you eat, and its impact on health? How you sleep?
Who you sleep with? Are you heeding those instructions we have here
in Scripture to guide life? Do you go to bed angry? Do you kick
against the goads? The list goes on.
And at some level, every item on that list comes down to this
struggle Paul is expressing. What would I choose, to live or to die?
Or, given what I am considering, what am I choosing, life or death?
Better by far that we brought in the moral considerations as he is
doing. Better by far if we looked to each decision for its value from
a kingdom perspective, rather than simple gratification, or just
getting on with life.
So here it is. Here is the dilemma: Why do you do what you do? Why
do I do as I do? Why do I go to work? Why do I offer such counsel as
I do to my daughter? Why do I treat my wife as I do, whether in those
moments when I truly cherish her and seek to protect her, or in those
times when frustration over our differences overwhelms sense? Why,
for all that, do I give concern to the business of the church, and
what my part in it should be? Why do I contemplate this teaching trip
to Africa this fall? Is it for my sense of self-worth? Then it is
worthless. Is it to demonstrate my skills? Then I have none. Is it
because this is where God says to go, and because there is expectation
of value for His kingdom in the work to be done? Then, praise God,
let’s get to it!
But Paul’s course is being made clear even as he speaks of his
deliberations. I long to depart, but it is, at least for the present,
an illicit desire. It would be a giving in to the lust of the flesh.
After all, he’s getting older. His body had to be hurting after all
he’d been through. And four years confined to the walls of his prison
home had to be wearing on his psyche. Who is going to thrive, being
chained to an armed guard day in, day out, month after month? Even
with the liberty to welcome visitors, to preach, and so on, it’s going
to wear on you. So, sure. If you were in like circumstances, I have
no doubt but that you would feel that same urge. After all, we
express it readily enough in circumstances far less trying.
Difficulty at work? Oh, just shoot me now. Stupid argument with a
loved one? Take me now, Lord! It doesn’t take much. A bad cold is
enough, honestly, to have us longing for a shortening of our days.
But they are not ours to shorten, and it is perhaps one of the greater
evils of our time that rather than aiding one another through such
rough patches (and let us specify, patches far rougher than those
suggested here), we look to aid their early demise rather than to
offer a more honest, godly, life-affirming perspective. Honestly, I
suspect that in many places now, were you to express that frustration
of, “shoot me now,” it would be taken as a
request and honored forthwith.
But it’s an illegitimate choice, and Paul is making that plain even
as he notes the option. As we saw in 2Corinthians,
it’s not that the preference for being home with Christ is sinful.
Far from it! This is indeed eminently to be desired. But to seek
entrance into His presence when it is not yet our time? No. That is
lust corrupting even the best of intentions. The time will come, and
when it is time, there is that within us which will know it. I look
at Paul’s later letter to Timothy. “For I am
already being poured out as a drink offering. The time of my
departure has come” (2Ti 4:6). No
deliberation here. No doubts. It’s time. I’ve known those saints
who have hit this stage. Life has been long, and the joy of the Lord
has indeed been their strength, not just their boastful claim. But
it’s time. My work here is done. Time to go. There has been no
hurrying of the schedule, only acceptance, and joy at the prospect.
How blessed are those who reach their end in such peace and
confidence.
Lord, I know somewhat this hunger to be shot of this present
life. But then, I also know significant hunger for the many joys
this life You have given me provides. I need only think of this
last week, and the week ahead. What pleasures You have set around
us! How can we complain (though of course, we do)? The simple
pleasures of sitting out on the porch of an evening, listening to
the sounds of the night birds, and whatever it is wandering through
the bushes, watching the lightning bugs dance, feeling the lovely
breeze, and effectively, not a care in the world. Not this week.
Or the sensation of floating off the shore, warm and almost
weightless. I could turn to the pleasures of pursuing my
music-making efforts, the joy of these times of study, and so on.
There are many things here that capture my senses. And forgive me
that they so readily draw me from You, from the work You have set
for me to do. Help me to attune my attention to Your ends, Your
plans. Too readily do I just shoot off in whatever direction, and I
should (at least to some degree) heed my lovely wife’s example, and
consider more what it is You have in mind for the day, for the
moment. Adjust as necessary. I am in Your hands.
Which Way the Heart? (05/14/24-05/15/24)
Paul is presenting us with a view of his dilemma. It’s not a dilemma
concerning his survival, nor is it a dilemma concerning how to make
his defense before Caesar. After all, he’s had a good four years now
to sort that out in his thinking. But he’s weighing his options here,
as to the outcome, perhaps as to how he ought himself to pray or ask
that others might pray. Except, he’s already sorted that as well,
hasn’t he? Not that he’s spoken directly to that point but you see
already his own answer: Let me not be put to shame, but proclaim
Christ with all boldness, now as always (Php 1:20).
He hasn’t switched topics coming to this passage, but is rather making
his thinking on the matter clear to his friends. Living or dying are
more or less equal options. That’s really what he’s saying here, and
perhaps there’s a bit of a corrective for us in it.
When I read through that first verse, in conjunction with the
preceding one, it can come across almost like, “I
don’t care. Live, die, it’s all the same.” But that’s not
the attitude he’s conveying. And I have to conclude that if our own
attitude is along these lines, we need to pull ourselves up short and
have a look at what’s going on. Paul’s not declaring ambivalence
here, he’s declaring that two courses are set before him, both
potentially of God, both of value from a kingdom perspective, and each
offering certain positive potentialities. He’s looking in both
directions and seeing good cause to take that path. But then he looks
the other way and sees equally good, if different, cause to take that
path instead. That’s the anguish that is in view, to the degree that
it is anguish at all.
What throws us a bit is this note of, “I don’t
know which to choose.” Here, he’s talking about the knowing
of ginosko, or at least its derivative, gnorizo. That has the sense of making known.
At least one of the translations took that sense of the meaning. I do
not make known. It’s active voice, so the idea of the answer not
being made known to him wouldn’t fit. He is the actor here. He can’t
make known his preference, because he really doesn’t have one. Both
ways are equally to be desired. Take this as your starting point,
then. Paul is not really contemplating the choice as though it was
his to decide. And this should color how we hear that matter of
choice. Which to choose? That’s not your call, mate. Ah, but which
to prefer? Which even sounds better? That’s acceptable. There’s
nothing about pursuing God’s will that precludes having preferences in
the matter. It’s just that in the end, you know them subjected to His
will, and this is your driving force.
I would observe as well that this act of choosing is presented in the
middle voice. Now, that may simply mean that the act of choosing is
something done for oneself, out of self-interest, if you will. But it
could also have that sense of two acting together, a joint decision,
in this case, of God’s choice and Paul’s, which I would have to say is
always a desirable result. So, one could take this in the sense of
Paul not knowing which course God has chosen for him. I could see
that as a possible translation. But then, I’m no translator, and I
find no translation backing my supposition, so perhaps not.
But let’s look at Paul’s deliberations, the things that are tugging
at his heart, for that’s very much what he is presenting. And we
might accept that the order in which he presents these interests is
telling as to his priorities. The first he has to mention comes even
before he notes his being torn. If I live then there is further
fruitful ministry for me. First consideration. I am a fruitful tree
for my Lord, and the longer I live, the more fruit I bear. The longer
I live, the more profitable I am to the kingdom. And then, there is
this particularly Jewish sense of fruit, which is that of having
something to present to God as a thank-offering. The longer I live,
the greater the offering I have to give to my Lord. And that, I could
readily believe, is the color of Paul’s thought. After all, what
value fruitfulness in this life apart from it being an offering given
unto God? You can’t take it with you. And you will most assuredly
pass from this life at some stage, so it’s not like all that
accumulated value shall be yours in perpetuity.
You know, this neighborhood in which we’re currently nestled while on
vacation is a town of mini-mansions. I mean, so far as mansions are
concerned, these are tiny affairs, but as measured by the more normal
scale, they are immense, and immensely expensive, both in the
purchasing and the upkeep. And here on the Gulf Coast, where
hurricanes are hardly an unheard-of phenomenon. I mean, the island
we’re on is still mid-recovery from the devastating hurricane but a
year and a half ago. Granted, it was a particularly virulent
hurricane, but still. You’re in an area that measures its height
above sea level in single-digit feet. It won’t take much for wind and
wave to push even this far in. And all around is water on every side,
really. The island has effectively one road servicing its entire
length, beach to one side, swamplands to the other, and not much but
sandy soil in between. What I am saying is this is a heck of an
expenditure to have a showcase house in a showcase location, and all
of it subject to total loss at what amounts to the toss of a coin.
And you don’t even get to do the tossing. It speaks of a mindset so
wholly focused on this life as to be utterly negligent of all else,
and that’s not a healthy focus. It’s certainly nothing to do with
Paul’s reasoning here, and it ought not to be the basis for our own
reasoning in our own turn.
Paul wants a harvest, but not for his bank account. Face it. He has
no bank account, no store of treasure to fund his mission. And now,
he is doubly dependent on other sources, being in prison. I can’t
imagine he was continuing his tentmaking under these conditions. Any
funding must come from elsewhere, and we know that the Philippians
were at least one source of it for him. But what was he using that
funding for? It wasn’t for more luxurious digs. It wasn’t to bribe
the officials and seek early release. Had that been his course, he
would have been out long ago. Felix, at least, was certainly open to
the idea, and rather expecting it. But no. Paul’s concern for
fruitfulness is everything to do with God, and as such, I return to
that image of having something to present before God as a
thank-offering.
This, I think, ought to be our perspective on all matters of
ministry, which is to say, on all aspects of Christian life. What am
I producing, that I may present before my Lord when comes my day to
appear before Him? Is this not the message in the parable of the
talents? You have been entrusted with something of immeasurable value
in being given to know and believe this gospel message. What have you
done with it? Have you simply sat back in the comfort of knowing
yourself redeemed? Have you done aught to benefit your fellow
believer by your understanding? Have you at the very least encouraged
a brother or sister in their faith? Have you spoken of your love for
Christ to one who doesn’t as yet know Him? Have you boldly owned up
to your faith? What have you got to show for yourself? That’s a
rather terrifying question, isn’t it? No, that’s not the right word.
To be terrified of answering would have us in the same place of
utterly misjudging our Master that was the final issue of that poor
slave with one talent. It’s not that he could only give back what had
been entrusted to him. I mean, at least he hadn’t wasted it and come
with nothing to show. No, it’s the way he perceived his master, as a
harsh and rather unjust taskmaster. That’s what really sealed his
judgment.
All the same, if we love Him, it must occur to us now and again to
wonder if we have done as we were designed to do, if we have done any
of those good works prepared beforehand for our doing. If we look
back across our life, can we see anything of value that we have done
for Him? To be sure, we can all find plenty of times we have wasted,
opportunities we have missed, periods when all our concern was too
wrapped up in our own pleasures to leave room for considerations of
ministry. But hopefully, each of us shall have something from which
we may draw an offering to set before our King when we stand before
Him. Whether little or much, let there be something of demonstrable
thanksgiving that we may present before Him. Let Him have some useful
harvest of our lives.
Now, I would have to say that messages urging concern over our reward
in that day fall flat on my ears. I am home with the Lord, and this
is already far greater reward than I can hope to deserve. Anything
beyond that is a bonus. It puts me in mind of those stock options
which enabled our move from renting to owning a house. There’s this
thought that creeps in. It’s worth X now, but what if I wait? Does
it become 2X? Does it drop to 1/2X? But in my thinking, it was free
money either way. Buy, sell, be done. Did you double, triple?
What’s the difference, really? At that point, the potential for loss
was sub-zero, not a concern. The only question was how great the
upside. Of course, the longer you hold, the greater the risk that
loss becomes an option. But if it’s all effectively free money, how
can one complain if it was slightly less free money than it could have
been? I suppose in large part that same mindset holds me in regard to
my homecoming. There is no downside. I’m coming home. There can be
no thought of loss. It’s not even a possibility. The size of the
reward, at that point, is kind of irrelevant. It’s not like we’ll be
in some competition, as I see in these houses around me, to have the
grandest edifice, the most beautiful gardens. It will be God, all in
all.
So it is with Paul’s concern for bearing fruit. It’s not the reward
that is in view, but the utility. May I have done something of value
in service to my Lord. That is all. I could take Darby’s rendering
of the point as demonstrating this mindset. “But
if to live in the flesh is my lot, this is for me worthwhile.”
Why? Because it presents more opportunities for fruitful ministry.
Face it. Once in the grave, those opportunities are done and gone. I
suppose we could add to Paul’s account the continuing impact of his
ministry through these epistles of his. And we could do likewise for
those we account heroes of the faith, whose impact on lives continue
through their writings, and through the record of their examples. But
it’s primarily while living that we bear fruit, and praise God if
indeed, as with those we consider here, that fruit persists. If it
does so, it is quite clearly by the work of the Holy Spirit, and as
such, no further credit to our own accounts.
Perhaps the GNT gets nearer Paul’s quandary. “But
if by continuing to live I can do more worthwhile work, then I am
not sure which I should choose.” Again, we can quibble as to
the idea that Paul has any real choice. But we’re talking about
weighing the options. Living on is not, in and of itself, sufficient
cause to desire that course. If living means some near-monastic
condition, touching no-one, preaching no longer, perhaps confined to
bedrest by the crippling effects of such a hard life, then, no, it
really doesn’t offer much by way of enticement, does it? Not that
this is cause to seek an early exit. But there’s nothing here to
suggest real value, certainly not kingdom value. But if it means more
ministry opportunities? Yes, okay! Now, there’s something to it.
Now, it takes on a weight equal to the unquestionable benefits of
going home.
Now, there’s something to think about, a real choice to be made, if
indeed, he were empowered to choose. And it is this dilemma of
equally valued choices that Paul expresses as we get into verse
23. “I am in a dilemma,” he
writes (following the Weymouth translation.) “I
am not able to incline towards either one,” as Wuest
concludes the prior verse. He is held fast between the two options;
torn, for that he sees good reason to choose either course. This is
the power of the verb he has chosen to express the case. I am
preoccupied with the thought because I am pulled both ways with equal
force. It’s a term that more often speaks of being held or oppressed,
but it takes this sense as well. It puts me in mind of my senior high
English teacher, with his exposition on Robert Frost. He made much of
this sort of tension in Frost’s writing, of being pulled in equal but
opposite directions by the choices presented.
And so, he is laying out the value propositions to be seen in each
case. From a personal standpoint, to depart this life and be with the
Lord has clear and obvious benefit. Troubles over, sin a thing of the
past, and nothing but an eternal resting in the joyful presence of
Christ to contemplate going forward. There is no downside. However,
as we have noted, and as he indicates, this desire is tinged with sin
in its own right, or at least it would be were it pursued. He’s
making that clear here, even though our translations seem determined
to bury it from sight. Oh! But that would be a sinful thought! That
would be advocating for suicide. We can’t have that. No. No, you
can’t. And that is pretty much exactly what he is expressing here.
It would be nice, but it’s not within my legitimate exercise of power
to so choose. I want it, but it is the hunger after something
forbidden. That date for homecoming is God’s call, and His alone.
Again, let’s recognize the realities of the situation. Paul is in no
position to take his own life even were he so inclined. He’s not
really in any position to choose the outcome at all. I suppose he
could purposefully make such a hash of his defense as to ensure that
Nero condemned him, sort of the period equivalent of suicide by cop.
But that wasn’t going to happen, was it? He was already determined to
make a full and confident defense of his faith. And he’d done so
enough times before this. There really isn’t any question of him
throwing the case now. It’s simply a presentation of value
propositions.
On the other hand, he sees fruitful ministry opportunities. He also
adds, as a personal note to his friends, that their need for that
ministry outweighs his own desire for personal benefit. The equal
weighting, I would suggest, is between the general opportunity for
fruitful ministry, and the joyful rest of his homecoming. That he has
these friends to whom he feels the duty to minister further is really
the thing that finally tilts the balance. It is the weight answerable
to his dilemma. “For your sakes it is more
important that I should still remain in the body.” That’s
the dilemma coming to resolution, the question finally answered.
Given a choice, I choose to do that which is more important.
Recall that this is our brother who has long preached of our need to
count others as more important than ourselves. Well, Paul is not one
to preach what he does not practice. No. What he has taught is what
he has lived, and that isn’t changing now. This is more important:
Your spiritual development. Mine, should I be called home, is
apparently complete. But yours, as you remain, still needs building
up, and there is a fruitful work I can do unto the Lord.
There will come a time for each one of us when we know our work here
is done. We saw that in the passage from Paul’s letter to Timothy.
This time, it’s done. I’m going home soon, a drink-offering poured
out. By then, he had indeed, labored fruitfully for some further
years. He had his thank-offering to give, and you can sense in that
recognition that he is fully at peace with it this time. No more the
dilemma of choice, no longer a need to damp down illicit desire for
home. Now it’s time. This is the peace we occasionally see in those
brothers and sisters who, having lived to a great age, have finally
concluded that the time has come. There’s not so much a letting go of
this life, as a joyful welcoming of that life to come.
But until such time, we do well to take to heart the example of Paul
in his prison cell. There remains the opportunity to bear fruit for
our Lord. There remains a need for us to minister one to another, to
build one another up in holy faith. Let us be about it, then, and may
the Lord be pleased with the harvest we produce.
Life with Purpose (05/15/24)
Continuing the thoughts of the previous section, it is this mindset,
or this decision made, that leads me to set verse 24 as
my key verse for this passage, rather than the far more familiar verse
21. The one gives grounds for properly weighing the
options, but the other presents us with the deciding vote. “To
remain in the flesh is more needful, because you need me.”
That presents my paraphrase of the conclusion. It is more necessary,
more needful. Duty calls, and Paul will answer. We might put it down
to the close bonds he had with this church. If any church had shown
themselves his friends and supporters, it was Philippi. We could list
the whole Macedonian mission in that regard, were we so inclined, but
even in that rich ministry field, it seems Philippi stood out. It’s
surprising just how robust these churches proved to be, given the
rushed nature of Paul’s time with them.
Each of these places, he had been required to abandon far sooner than
would have been his preference. I happened to hear Paul McCartney
& Wings with their old hit, ‘Band on the Run’
at the restaurant a few days back. The title puts me in mind of
Paul’s ministry in that period; always on the run, chased out of one
city, and on to the next. But never as one abandoning the mission,
no. No preach and run profiteer he, but forced out on each occasion
by those who felt their prestige threatened by the gospel, too pleased
with their profit to heed the prophet.
But back to Paul’s decision. This is the needful course. This is
the option required by the condition of things. This is the path of
purpose. And it is this purposefulness to which I want to turn my
attention as a last stop in this particular study. There is that note
of necessity in Paul’s conclusion, but it’s not the necessity of
fate. It’s not the necessity of, oh well, here’s how it’s going to
turn out anyway, might as well accept it. No. This is something far
stronger than mere acceptance. This is notice of preference. This is
an earnest and in some ways agonized weighing of the options, and
setting one’s heart in the direction of the best. Duty before
pleasure would be one way of expressing his choice, but even that, I
think, falls short. As I noted before, he is very much practicing
what he has long preached, because what he has preached is what he
truly believes, and what he believes, is what he seeks truly to live.
May we, Lord willing, prove to be of like character!
So, we hear this response. There may have been no real choice to be
made, or no real power to enforce the choice. But we ever and always
have the choice of siding with God or setting ourselves in opposition
to His purposes. Our desires are always in competition with the need
of the moment. Always. We don’t like dealing with necessity. We
want pleasure. We may like the reputation for being dutiful sons,
dutiful husbands and wives, dutiful employees or laity. But the
labors involved? Not so attractive. When duty calls and the answer
requires taking up spades to dig in the dirt? I’ll pass if it’s all
the same. But it’s not all the same. And duty answers, and though we
may (and probably do) grumble through the call of duty, yet we are
pleased to see the result of having answered. It is as Hebrews
says. “All discipline for the moment
seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been
trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of
righteousness” (Heb 12:11).
Discipline and duty: They are almost one and the same. Duty requires
discipline of us, and discipline comes only by practice and character
already established by prior discipline.
It's a curious thing, how often my wife counsels a somewhat less
dutiful attending to the necessities of the workplace. But it cannot
be, as I measure it. This is the course of duty. This is what is
required of me by the condition of things, every bit as much as
attending to her wants and needs are my gladsome duty. And I should
have to confess that though it is my gladsome duty, I am not always
well-pleased to perform it. But if ever there is a relationship of
close bonds, it is here with her. And so, I am often set in that
place Paul gives expression to, though with options far less
laudable. How often, in the course of any given week, do we find
ourselves with this dilemma? My hunger is to go this way, but I
cannot follow it. That is that course of lust. Over against it, we
see our Lord’s desire. Spirit and flesh are ever at war one against
the other, as Paul notes in writing to the church in Rome. It hasn’t
changed in the centuries since. It won’t change so long as life
persists.
But the way of purpose, the path of value, is ever that which our
Lord desires of us. It is, after all, the course of His choosing. It
is that for which we were created. And this, I think, draws me close
to my closing thought for this study. You and I are created with
purpose in view. There is, of course, that most fundamental purpose
to which the Westminster Catechism gives voice. Our chief purpose is
to love God and enjoy Him forever. Not a bad thing, that. But if we
love Him, we will obey His commands. If we love Him, His choice is
our desire, because our desire is to please Him whom we love. And so,
over and over again, we find ourselves in need of setting aside our
desire for His or, if you prefer, attuning our desire to His. This, I
might suggest, is one of the chief values in prayer. It’s not that we
cajole God into satisfying our requests. Neither is it the case that
God cannot, or will not supply answer until we pray. That can’t be
it, for God is not beholden to any, not in heaven and certainly not on
earth. But we, on the other hand, are in near constant need of
readjustment as to our priorities and desires. And our prayers have
this power to shape our thinking more after God’s own heart, which is
as our thinking should be.
If, then, things in your life feel rather pointless, if the course of
your days has become empty rote habit, perhaps the issue is in your
prayer life. Perhaps it’s time to pray more earnestly, more honestly,
that our Lord and Savior would direct your days. He does so anyway.
“The mind of man plans his way, but the LORD
directs his steps” (Pr 16:9). Far
better, then, that we, in our planning, should consult Him who
directs. Here is the course to a life with purpose. Here is the
course to a fruitful life, pleasing to the Lord, and promising a
gladsome result come the time when our work here is done. Let us be
about it.
Lord, may it be so. Let us, without tying ourselves in knots and
without becoming caught up in dilemmas of our own making, seek to
pursue Your course. You are my God, and I trust You to guide. I
know You direct my footsteps regardless. But let me be such as
seeks to set my feet where You are directing, as pursues those
purposes for which I was created. I am Yours, and would that I more
often acted like this was so. Thank You, that You continue to work
in and upon me. May You be pleased to work through me, that I may
be Onesimus, useful to You in accordance with Your desire.