New Thoughts (2/5/05-2/11/05)
Opening Questions (2/6/05)
Many questions came up in this study, some of which have already begun to be answered, some of which will probably remain unanswered. However, since many of them appear to have no particular bearing on what lies ahead, I will deal with them here.
First and easiest is the question of whether it the Spirit came like a dove, or as a dove. It may seem a fine distinction to be bothered with, but I think it is important to settle. After all, there is a great deal of difference between one who looks like a preacher, and one who functions as a preacher (to give but one example). In this case, the answer is that the Spirit came like a dove. He was not a dove, but He came with physical form, and that form was so like the form of a dove as to be indistinguishable. Does this matter? Yes, I think so. In the one case, we wind up with the Holy Spirit being a dove. One who comes as is. One who comes like has put on an appearance. Without such visible appearance, the presence of the Holy Spirit would have been evident to far fewer people, and the witness that came from this event would be suspect. Had He been an actual dove, He would not have been the Holy Spirit. Such activity is the activity of demons, possessing what is natural to perform the unnatural. Demons must resort to this for the simple reason that they cannot create a physical form for themselves. It is not in their power to create. Only God holds such power. The Holy Spirit, being God, holds such power, and uses it in this instance to set Himself apart from every false claimant to godhood. Yes, the Spirit came in physical form, and that physical form was modeled after the dove, the rock-pigeon, and that form was chosen for a reason, as shall be explored shortly. Thank God He came with a real, physical form, for nothing less could properly establish His claims.
Next among the questions I have is whether or not Matthew was among the witnesses of this event. We have the record of the tax-gatherers asking John what repentance meant for one in their profession. It seemed, after all, like real repentance would require quitting their employment. This is not something that we can really resolve, but I begin to think that, in spite of the romance of having him there at the start, it is unlikely. First, there is the fact that John, who relates that question, does not indicate that Matthew was the one who asked. While John is reticent to mention himself, he does not seem to have such a mindset when it comes to noting the others. And yet there is the fact that Matthew provides some details that nobody else seems to have been aware of. It is he who tells us of that initial contact between John and Jesus. So, perhaps he was there, but was not the one who asked questions, and, since he did not immediately turn to following Jesus, there was no need for John to mention him.
In trying to discover the answer to questions such as this, it is important to recall that the purpose of the Gospels was not to establish the authority of the apostles, but to establish the reality of Jesus. The apostles clearly play a major role in establishing that reality, as those who were ‘with Him from the start,’ but their purpose is fundamentally to serve as witnesses to the Truth, not as witnesses to themselves. They are in the story because they were part of the story, but they are in it only insomuch as they serve to establish the reality of events. It would serve no particular purpose in the establishing the Gospel accurately to note whether Matthew was there or not. Indeed, it might just raise more questions, like why he didn’t immediately pursue Jesus, although I think a number of reasonable answers based on human nature might be offered to that particular question. Let us settle with this, then: It is impossible to state categorically whether or not Matthew was there, but there is nothing in the record to preclude it, and some very minimal, very circumstantial evidence to suggest he might have been in the crowd.
Who Has Seen? (2/6/05)
This passage has brought with it more questions than any I can remember in quite some time. I suppose that is to be expected when one has four accounts of the events being discussed. It is interesting to me to see how various translations have handled some of these questions. For the most part, I find that those translations that have sought to settle the question are rather unsatisfactory. The TEV and the Amplified Version are foremost in my thoughts in that regard. The TEV is especially bothersome in covering John’s account, which I may get to later. At present, especially having just reread that translation today, the Amplified is what I have in view.
The question is one which is bound to come up. Who saw the heavens open? Who heard the voice of God? It’s a case of trying to determine the noun to which the pronoun points. In Matthew’s account, we have Jesus coming out of the water after baptism, and “he saw the Spirit descending, and coming upon Him.” Now, it’s interesting that some translations capitalize that first ‘he,’ and others don’t. Some versions, in fact, appear to never capitalize the pronouns. Where they do, however, the lack of capitalization in this instance certainly pushes our understanding in a particular direction. So, the NASB points us to John via this capitalization, yet the King James leaves it unambiguously pointing to Jesus. Both of these make note of the other viewpoint, though. Others leave it utterly ambiguous by refusing to offer any hints whatsoever, which is perhaps the best approach. Then we come to the Amplified, and they go out of their way to insist that it is John that is being referred to.
There is this to add to the issues: The NASB leaves off an auto after the ‘heavens were opened’ clause. There’s yet another pronoun to be dealt with. The heavens were opened auto – to him. Who? Mark is no help in this case. His account has the same pronouns, although in this case, everybody seems agreed that it is Jesus that saw – everybody except the Amplified. They again insist it is John we’re talking about. Luke is not even interested in who saw, only in the fact that it occurred, and John curiously avoids mention of it altogether.
So, who witnessed these things. The one thing that seems clear is that the dove was seen by anybody who was looking at the time. It could not be missed. That it was the Holy Spirit might not be understood by most, but that this thing that looked so much like a dove as to be an exact likeness had come and landed upon Jesus was plainly evident to all. Did that dove remain on Him as He ascended from the river? It would seem so from John’s account. That must have struck folks as odd.
Then we come to the issue of the voice. Again, all the accounts but John’s mention God’s voice coming out of heaven. Now, this does not necessarily have to connect to the rending of the heavens. It is a phenomenon unto itself. In this regard, I would have to note that the word regarding His voice is a word that indicates definite audible speech. It was a voice, then, with physical reality, just as the form of the dove in which the Holy Spirit came was a form with physical reality. So, again I am returned to questions of who witnessed these things, and I find in returning to the question, my thoughts are changed from what I had thought previously.
I had thought to draw from the testimony of the Baptist that John records for us that he apparently hadn’t seen and heard, had only noticed the dove descending. However, in thinking thus I am forgetting that this is not John’s direct testimony we have before us, but the Evangelist’s record of that testimony. And the Evangelist is giving his account from a vantage point many decades later, and with a definite purpose. Let us remember that in John’s gospel we are reading the account of one who used to be a disciple of the Baptist before he became an apostle of the Lamb. Let us also recognize that he did not depart in anger, but at John’s behest, as we shall see in the next section of study.
However, John writes with a purpose, and he writes knowing that there were those who misunderstood the Baptist, who still clung to the idea that he was the Messiah. This was tearing the church apart at the time, and had to be dealt with. Everything John has to say about the Baptist carries that purpose of making it clear that even John himself held no illusions in that regard. He knew he wasn’t the Messiah. How could he be, when he pointed his own students to the One Who was greater than himself? Over and over, John’s gospel stresses this point. Repeatedly, we hear the testimony of the Baptist: It’s not me, it’s Him! With that in mind, I have to wonder if John’s neglecting to mention the heavens being opened to the Baptist’s sight, and his having heard the voice of God, too, was more a factor of his concern for the church than a reflection of what John the Baptist experienced in the river with Jesus. (Boy, I’ll be glad when I don’t need to distinguish these two Johns any longer!)
Another thought I had had originally was that there couldn’t have been very many who saw and heard what happened, or the transfer of allegiance from John to Jesus would have been much greater. Here, again, I am forced to rethink. Everything about this account speaks of the physical reality of the events. Indeed, I think that understanding is critical to the account. These were real events experienced by real people via their real physical senses. It was no longer dreams and visions. It was not a hallucinatory experience with only the one deluded participant as witness. These were events that everybody there was witness to. That said, it is quite likely that many did not entirely understand God’s voice. That has certainly been the case on other occasions. Some heard no more than thunder, and even those who heard clearly might be left wondering which exactly God had in mind. There were, after all, two in the river, and one of these, they were familiar with. Isn’t it human nature to hear what we want to hear in such a case?
We all deal with this. We all have that tendency to interpret what is ambiguous in whatever fashion best fits our experience. So, let us return to that “You Were There” perspective and stand on the banks of the Jordan in that crowd. We may have been there for days, or we may have just arrived that day. Either way, we are there because of one man’s reputation. We have come to see John, whether for right motive or wrong. His reputation as both a righteous man and a prophet is settled in our mind. Even if we are seeing him for the first time today, we know who he is, or at least what others have testified of him. Then, there is this other man, a stranger to us. Indeed, if we have noticed anything at all about him, it is probably that he’s from the country. If we have heard him talk at all, we have likely noticed his accent, an accent that marks him as coming from Galilee, land of ignorance, Gentiles, and thieves. Nothing much there to recommend him to us. Now, given that, if we see the heavens open, if we hear God acclaiming one of these two men, but we have no finger from heaven pointing explicitly to one or the other, which one are we going to assume He means? I would contend that the majority of us, in such a situation, would assume John was the one he spoke of. In fact, I would suggest that it is precisely this misunderstanding that led to the issues the Evangelist was dealing with later.
That said, I am still intrigued by the thought that there were those few in the crowds who heard and saw the same events, but came away with a different understanding. I may be quite wrong in this, but I wonder. There were those two we will read of in the next section, Andrew and that other (which I would maintain was John) to whom the Baptist explicitly declared, “There is the Son of God.” Now, the finger was pointing without any ambiguity! But, had these two already figured it out? Was this just the release by their teacher allowing them to pursue the One they knew they must pursue honorably? I think it might be so. I think there were others who understood what had happened, who grasped the import of events. The majority of people there were not really John’s disciples, just people come to be baptized by him. These had no particular reason to stay with him, no particular allegiance to him. Among them, I suspect many heard God’s voice clearly, and these would be waiting for the Son to come into His own.
Manifest and Revealed (2/6/05-2/7/05)
Now, I turn to John’s testimony (the Baptist), for in that testimony, there is a certain progression of things that is rather hidden in translation. This has to do with seeing. Three times in his testimony he speaks of seeing, and on each of these three occasions he uses a different term. This is not necessarily evident from the English text, but it is there, and how important is the difference between terms!
Consider this. John first speaks of seeing the dove in John 1:32. There, he tells us he saw the dove descending. Some translations give us ‘beheld the dove,’ but that’s not overly useful to me. It’s one of those terms we see in Scripture repeatedly but really don’t stop to ask what it means. Well, let’s stop and ask! That ‘beheld’ seeing is a seeing with wonder, a contemplation brought about by something of a marvel, something extraordinary. Now, I would suggest that anybody who saw that dove land on Jesus and stay would be struck with the wonder of this. I am brought to mind of a landlord I once had who was a lover of birds. He had trained a bird to come to him and alight on his finger to receive some birdseed. Now, this was perfectly natural, yet out of the natural order of things. Birds don’t normally do that. To see it happen brought a sense of wonder: How had he done that?
I would say again that anybody who saw these events occur would have sensed the wonder of it, and might well have been moved to consider the import of it, given the setting. Yet, out of that multitude there were very few who would reach understanding based on that wonder, because they did not have the key to understanding. John did. He tells us the key to the mystery of the dove in the next verse. God had told him he would see the Spirit descend upon the One he was to announce. Frankly, (and I am probably repeating myself here, but anyway,) he already knew Who he was to announce, and he already knew that One he was sent to proclaim was Jesus. He’d known it longer than he’d breathed the air of Israel. But, he awaited a sign that the time had come.
Now, when God said he would see the Spirit descend, did he mean physical sight? Granted, the Spirit took on physical form in His descent, but that was more for the crowds on shore than for John’s benefit. What God said was that He would perceive and understand that the Spirit had descended and remained upon Jesus. God said nothing about the form of the dove, nothing about the circumstance of that descent, only that John would know it when it happened, and would understand what it meant: The time had come.
Now, John moves to that final statement: “I have seen, and I testify.” Here, there is no question. He has seen with his eyes, but more than that, he has discerned the significance of what he saw, and he knows beyond all doubt what it means. Here, we come to a matter I’ve been trying to explain to my brother, so far with little apparent success: There’s a world of difference between the facts and the Truth. Everybody there had seen the facts. They had seen the dove. They had seen that it was odd. Yet, they did not perceive the Truth, for the Truth was in the significance of the facts, not the facts themselves. Facts may well be true, but they are not Truth. Truth lies in the meaning, and the meaning is not always evident in the facts. John had both. He had the facts that his senses brought to his attention, and he had understanding of the meaning of those facts: Now is the time.
There is this to be said about the progression from sight to knowledge, as well. As Zhodiates has pointed out in his dictionary, revelation is a necessary precursor to manifestation. Without the revelation that God brought to John, the dove was but a dove, and had no further significance than that of a dove doing what is unusual for a dove. With the revelatory knowledge God brought to him, though, understanding was added to the data brought by his senses, and what had been simple observation became manifestation.
Revelation, I will add, has its own prerequisite. This is not always so, but I think it still holds as the general rule. God does not habitually reveal His plans and purposes to those with whom He is not intimate.
I have to hedge this statement just a bit because I know from experience that there is a certain amount of revelation that it would seem must come from Him before we can enter into that intimacy. I speak of that revelatory knowledge by which we are empowered to comprehend the faith He so graciously gives. I have written before of the scene of my real conversion to faith, and that scene would not, could not have happened without God’s revelatory knowledge. Now, we can get into theological debate as to whether this was revelation or illumination, but I think the effect of it makes such debate moot. To the best of my understanding of what happened, there was no text that the Holy Spirit was making clear to me (which is the essence of illumination – that sudden understanding of what has long been written). Rather, there was that mentally audible delivery of two hypotheses and the call to ‘watch and see.’ Without that preparatory revelation from God to explain the import of what was coming up, I would have seen the same events that weekend, but I would not have witnessed the manifestation. I would have had the same sensory facts at my disposal, but I would have had no understanding of their meaning. I would, I suspect, have not even suspected there was a meaning.
So, I am left with this: that revelation must precede manifestation (where manifestation is understood as the comprehension of what the senses have taken note of) stands as a rule of life. That intimacy must precede revelation stands as a rule of faith. What do I mean by this distinction? Just as one cannot live by faith before God first provide the gracious gift of faith, but afterwards we are possessed of the responsibility of continuing in that faith, improving that faith by the means He provides, and being actuated by that faith; just so with revelation. I suspect that first gift of faith must be accompanied by revelation for it to be recognized and understood (for revelation must precede manifestation), but thereafter the continuation of such revelatory experience is a function of our continually developing intimacy with Him.
John certainly had such intimacy with his God, and God with him. For many years, this had likely been John’s sole companionship, at least the only companionship of any duration. Further, John was a prophet. This is abundantly clear. One is not a prophet of God without that intimacy, for one cannot understand God’s purpose, cannot see what He is up to without that intimacy. Without it, John would have been no better off for his experience than those on the shore. He would still have looked with wonder at this dove come down upon his cousin, but it would have held no meaning beyond its oddity.
Wow! This just came to me as I thought upon that last paragraph: Without the revelation knowledge that God provides, manifestation – real manifestation of heaven – is no more than entertainment. I confess that as I was thinking on that last paragraph I was simultaneously thinking about the movie we watched as a family last night: “My Fair Lady.” Without knowledge of God, that movie might have been considered a fine entertainment. It was certainly well acclaimed in its day, and indeed, I can recognize most of the songs that are found in it from my youth. However, I don’t know that I had ever really heard the songs, never really listened with understanding, just enjoyed the hooks, as it were. Seeing this movie with the knowledge of my God, though, a wholly different picture emerges. While the more villainous characters of the film remain recognizably villainous, there are sub-currents within the film that underscore the motives of the producers of that piece. From all quarters, there is open attack on the institutions of marriage. From all quarters, there is a spiteful disrespect for the church – worse, an outright rejection and spitting upon the house of God.
Now, as the head of my household I may be charged with having allowed the film to run too long, of having exposed my daughter to wholly invalid viewpoints so sugar-coated as to appear acceptable and amusing. I will say this, though (for it has been a bit of a debate in the house this week, anyway): teaching by censorship is generally not going to work. It may succeed in training a child to shut off all conversation that doesn’t concur with that child’s own opinions, but it does nothing to help the child develop the skills of critical thinking, critical observation. Far better, in my opinion, to allow the experience of such darkened philosophies in a situation where the Truth can be brought out. Yes, the film has its amusing moments, but ought they be amusing? Yes, the songs are catchy, but do they have anything positive to say? Indeed, there are things that were said that were even true, but sadly true. They were true of human nature, but nowhere was there hope to be found. Indeed, the odd anti-hero of the film celebrates his ability to change a human from one form of humanity to another by sheer strength of personal will. What utter hogwash!
So, there are three views of this film, just as there were three views of the dove. There is that seeing which is merely caught up in the wonder, entertained and captivated by novelty. There is a seeing beyond that which seeks understanding, that realizes there is meaning behind what is being displayed, and seeks out that meaning. Beyond this, there remains the revelatory seeing, the prophetic seeing, seeing not only with God’s eyes, so as to recognize Truth from lie, but seeing God’s purpose. What is He up to in this? I have doubtless said this before, and I will doubtless say it again: when things occur in our lives which we would consider to be negatives – whether the mild negatives of this movie’s message, or things that are perhaps more tangible dangers – we can complain of what the devil is doing, or we can remember Whom we serve, and seek to understand what He is doing. Does He tempt us? No, not ever. God cannot be charged with authoring temptation. That is the product of our own fallen selves. What can be said, though, is that those temptations that come against us are sent for our edification, for our growth. If we stop with whining at the devil, we are stunting our own growth. If we lay hold, instead, of what God is seeking to do in us, and pursue His purpose in the hard things, in the – as we would call them – wrong things, we will find that the entertainments of the dark do not call us into the shadows, but rather cause us to turn on the light and cast all shadow and illusion away from us.
A Necessary Change (2/8/05-2/9/05)
So, we have seen a necessary progression from intimacy to revelation to manifestation. That progression does not stop there. In all of this, we have not yet really played an active part. We have partaken of the intimacy that God initiated with us. We have heard His prompting and explanation, and we have seen the events He initiated and understood. But all of this would be for naught if we remained unchanged by it. Indeed, it could be argued that we have not really understood yet if we have not been changed.
In John’s case, I see that change displayed in the words of his message. For days now, perhaps weeks, he had been declaring, “There is One coming.” That was the whole focus of his ministry. The One was coming soon, and there was need for the people to be prepared. There was need for cleansing before the King came into His kingdom. In a moment, in the moment following on Jesus’ baptism when the heavens opened and God spoke, John’s message changed. No longer was it, “He is coming.” Now, it was “There He is!”
Was it meeting Jesus that brought this change? Not really. These two had met some thirty years ago when Mary went to visit Elizabeth. It is possible, although not necessary, that they had met at least once or twice during their youth. Possible, but they dwelt a fair distance from one another, and John, when once he had choice of his upbringing, had opted to increase that distance, heading for the desert places.
Was it hearing from God that brought this change? Not really. John had heard from God before. Indeed, his whole life was about hearing God. He had heard God as to his purpose here on earth, and had labored to fulfill it. He had heard God about how and where he ought to mature, and had positioned himself accordingly. He had heard God right down the place and message of his ministry, and what he heard he did. He even heard God when it came to the timing of his proclamation. Not until he had seen the sign God declared would he make the declaration God had given him to speak.
No, what brought the change in John was what God said about Jesus. “My Son! My beloved Son! You are My Delight!” What depth of love poured out of the heavens in those words! What thoroughgoing joy the Most High God expressed! John had known intimacy with God, but never like this. This was intimacy beyond the wildest dreams even of Moses, who talked with God face to face. Abraham had been God’s friend. David had been a man after God’s own heart, but here with John stood this One to whom God said, “My Beloved, My Delight!” Wow!
Hearing this, of course his message must change, and not only because of the Love that declared Himself. Here, also was yet another confirmation for John. Here was another confirmation that the words of the prophets were being fulfilled in his sight. In this case, it was David, the man after God’s own heart, who had foreseen the moment. “Behold I come! In the scroll of the book it is written of Me!” (Ps 40:7). Indeed, the whole of the Book is written of Him, of this Beloved One in whom the Father has found His delight. And, that delight is reciprocated: “I delight to do Your will, for Your Law is upon My heart” (Ps 40:8). This was Jesus’ own testimony over and over again. “To do His will, to accomplish His purposes; this is My food. This is what sustains Me” (Jn 4:34). “He sent Me, and He remains with Me, never leaves Me alone, and why? Because I always do that which pleases Him” (Jn 8:29).
The Love God has for His Son is the Love His Son has for God. They are One. And we who have heard the call of the Father, who have beheld the Son of His Delight, we are called to be one as they are One, to share in that same Love. If we share in that same Love, I dare say it is going to be displayed in us just as it was in Jesus. “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments” (Jn 14:15).
The Love of God, the Love which has saved us, and which has been poured out within us, is both a thrill to our own hearts and a demand upon our lives. Who would hear these words sung in their ears, and not thrill to have heard it? I tell you, every one who has heard the call of the Father has heard this message from Him, “You are my beloved child, I find My delight in you.” No, it’s not the exact same thing Jesus heard, and yet it is. The difference is in us. In speaking to Jesus, Father God was speaking to One in whom obedience was already perfected. He had already seen fulfillment of His delight in this Son who obeyed Him perfectly. When He looks upon us, He is not unaware of our imperfections, not unaware of the myriad ways in which we fail to obey. But, He is aware of His Son’s love for us, and He is aware of our love for His Son, however imperfect it may be. He is aware of our end, an end brought about by the patient work of His Beloved Son. He sees His children, and He knows that they will be Sons, and therefore He can look upon us and say, “I find My delight in you, child.”
What father is not delighted by the child that tries his utmost to be like its father? The imperfectness of that effort means nothing, when the effort is seen. And, so long as that effort continues to be seen, so also does the father’s delight. Dare I say this? Love, especially God’s love, is unconditional, but delight: that’s another thing altogether. Delight is a reaction to the fruits of love. Nobody delights in a willful child, in a rebellious child. Such a child will still know the love of its parents, but delight? I think not! Delight is reserved for what is pleasing.
Now, I will also say this. The child who hears from Daddy that Daddy is delighted has just received the strongest incentive to give Daddy even more cause to be delighted. This is especially true, I think, in our day and age. Love has become such a watered down concept, ‘I love you’ a hollow sentiment that might mean just about anything, depending on circumstances. It might mean, “I’m sorry.” It might mean, “I want something from you.” It might mean, “You’re cute.” It might mean any number of things, some good, some not so. But, “I am so delighted by you!” That’s something altogether different. That’s a reality of both emotion and opinion being expressed. Oh! How a child thrills to hear that he or she has delighted Daddy! Oh! How hard that child will work to feel that thrill again!
For us, for the children of God, the thrill of Daddy’s voice telling us of His delight in us is strong incentive indeed. It is an incentive to seek all the more to be like His Beloved, like His Son. For, we are all called to be more than children of God. We are called to be sons of God. What will make us so? Maturity. We will be true sons of God when what we do, what we say, what we thing, is all by His prompting. We will be true sons of God when we resemble Him most fully. This is what all creation groans for. Yes, it’s the revealing of the sons of God (Ro 8:19), but I dare say that even more than this, what creation longs for is the manifestation that follows upon that revelation.
Hearing Daddy say He delights in me, in me! Wow! That’s strong medicine for one struggling so to do what’s right. How much more powerful than recriminations for my failures this is. After all, I’m quite aware of my failures. I really don’t have need of reminder, for conscience reminds me no sooner than I have failed. But, to hear Him speak of His delight in my efforts, in spite of those failures, Oh! There is strength to go on. There is strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.
Thank You, Father! Thank You for declaring Your delight in me. Thank You for that constant reassurance that You speak to my heart, when all I can see is my mistakes. How wonderful You are. Yes, I know that it is You, also, who shows me when I have gone astray, who insists that I look upon myself with honest eyes. Yet, ever and always, You accompany the correction with these expressions of delight, with joy over my progress. Oh! I am so glad that You see my completion, Father, that You see my end in these humble beginnings. Oh! I am so glad that it is You who is at work in me to see that completion come about. All praise be to You, my God, for in Your zeal, You have done it!
I return, though, to that life-changing message that John heard. “My Son! My Delight!” Immediately, as I said, John’s whole message and ministry shifted gears. His prophetic purpose was at a close in that moment, for there was no longer need to proclaim what would come. He is here! It was time to move from prophet to witness, to take up the office of the forerunner in full. I tell you, it is impossible that he should hear that incredible expression of God’s joy and not confess it to anybody with ears to hear him.
“I have heard my God declare His beloved Son! I have heard Him shout of His Delight in that perfect One!” That was John’ reaction. Yes, I know that the testimony that the Evangelist records for us speaks of John’s witnessing the dove of the Holy Spirit, but he saw the open heavens, and more importantly, he heard what God was saying to His only begotten Son. It’s simply not possible that he should witness this and remain silent! It’s just not possible!
As I think about that, I am forced to ask myself, “what about me?” Through John’s witness, and through the witness of the Holy Spirit within me, I have heard that same thing, though perhaps not quite so directly. My soul, my mind, my heart are all fully aware of the love the Father has for the Son, and the Son for the Father. My soul, my mind, my heart are all fully aware that the Persons of the Trinity find mutual delight one in the other. I am fully aware that this One who stepped into History, wholly God and wholly Man, and holy all in all, walked through History in whole-hearted obedience, perfect obedience, to all that His Father required. He walked out God’s Delight. These things my heart, mind, and soul have heard, and I must ask myself, “How can you stay silent?”
There’s a world out there that needs so desperately to know that there is that which God delights in, that there is something so much more real than the sham of love that is professed from the lips of liars and cheats. How especially true this is in an age when the Church at large has so corrupted the expression of love itself! The love that the world knows is a hurtful, manipulative, usury love that brings no joy, offers no fellowship, satisfies only the lust of the flesh. Delight is gone from the land. Yet, the same Son who walked into the history of Israel still walks into our own personal histories today. That same Son in Whom God found His Delight is still God’s Delight. And what does the Delight of God ask of us? “Go and make disciples.” As well, we might hear Him telling us to go make sons of ourselves and like ourselves.
I have heard God’s declaration regarding the Son, and I have heard, through the Son, God’s command upon me: “Go and make sons.” Where then, is the obedience that my own love for Him must require? “If you love Me, if it’s more than the empty words of the world, obey My command.” Such a simple command, that. Tell them what you know. Teach them what you have. If you would be a son of the kingdom, go forth and multiply!
God, I know I have yet to fulfill this call. I know how weak I am in pursuing that simple requirement, and I must seek out Your forgiveness yet again. But, beyond that, I ask that You, Whom I know to be at work in me both to will and to work, would so work upon my will that I would be willing to work as You have required. I want so much for You to have reason to delight in me, and I know what delights You, for You have not only told me, You have shown me in Your Son. I have heard You speak of Him, give me strength and nerve to speak of what I have heard! Give me an excitement for Your voice that cannot be contained by such things as concern for my own reputation and reception. Why, Lord, do I insist on better treatment than Your Delight received? How can this be? I know better, and yet… God, it ought not be so, and I must pray without ceasing that You would bring the change in me. Give me the boldness that John knew, that Paul knew, that Martin Luther and John Calvin knew. Give me the boldness of those who are dying for the love of You today, that I might proclaim Your Son uncompromisingly, that I might display that which brings You delight uncompromisingly. Oh, God, give me even this much: to proceed through this day without falling into the frustration and cursing that lie in wait.
Before I pick this up again, Lord, I just want to offer You my thanks for hearing last request yesterday. Indeed, You held me through the day, though I confess my tongue once more betrayed me. When, Lord? When will I know the end of that weakness? Yet, You were a most present help in time of need, as I went through my work day, and that seemingly impossible task that had been assigned me was made complete as You provided me with strength to persevere, and wisdom to pursue the needed answer. Thank You.
There is another aspect of this necessity for change that comes to mind. We have been given four accounts of this particular episode, and each of the four is unique in its view of events. Were any of these men eye-witnesses to what happened? Of one, I am almost wholly certain the answer is yes, and of another, there is at least the possibility. For the remaining two, we might ask where they had heard about the event, but I think it more interesting that they did, indeed, hear about it. Let me consider these two first, then. John Mark, if the suppositions are right, heard about Jesus’ baptism from Peter, but how had Peter heard of it? Peter heard from his brother Andrew, who was there. His presence among those who witnessed the events is one of the more certain pieces of information we have. Peter’s personality is also something we’re familiar with from the pages of Scripture; an impetuous man, prone to impassioned excitement. I wonder if this was something his brother shared?
One can almost picture the excitement Peter felt as he recounted this story to John Mark. It echoes in the wording of the passage: “Immediately, He came up out of the water…” I can also imagine John Mark sitting there, listening to Peter’s story, probably not for the first time, and asking respectfully, “But, you weren’t there, yet. How is it you know this event so well?” We have seen the answer. Brother Andrew, having heard that same message from the Baptist that so changed the course of John’s life, had gone immediately to find Peter. “We have found Messiah,” he said, and rushed Peter back to meet the Man from Galilee (Jn 1:41-42). So, Peter may not have been an immediate witness of the events, but he was not removed from them by very much, and John Mark, sitting under Peter’s ministry for some time, faithfully records Peter’s recollections.
What I find important about this is that Andrew, in reporting to Peter what had happened, was not simply echoing John’s words. He was relaying his own experience. He had seen, he had heard, it just needed a bit of explanation to fully understand the importance of it all. When John testified, it was not the fact that John had witnessed these things that convinced Andrew so immediately. It was the fact that he had witnessed the same events, and now, with John’s prophetic viewpoint added, he understood Who had stood in that river. “We have found the Messiah!”
Luke was most assuredly not around to witness these events. Nor was Paul, from whom Luke had learned of Messiah, and of hope. Luke came along years later, walking the lands of his Savior’s life, seeking those who had been there, gathering information from many memories to compile an accurate account of all that had occurred. He knew Paul’s theology. He had quite possibly heard Peter as well. But, now he was in that land where these things had happened, looking up those who were there and hearing their version of events. What I see in Luke’s account, then, is that it was not just the apostles who maintained the record of Jesus’ baptism. It was a day marked on the minds of all those who had stood on the shores. What that tells me is that the open heavens and the voice of God coming forth were events all had seen and heard. It seems to me that we must also understand by Luke’s account that they not only heard God’s voice, they understood His words.
Then we have Matthew and John. Matthew’s account leaves me thinking that he was perhaps among the crowds that witnessed the scene. There is that bit in his account covering the initial exchange between John and Jesus that really makes me think this was the case, that he was standing on the shoreline himself as these things happened. He tells us that John was struck by the impropriety of his baptizing the One he was to proclaim, but Jesus explained the necessity of it. “It is fitting. It will stand out in people’s minds and be remembered that we did this thing, and not one necessary act of righteousness, not even this one, will be found lacking in Me.” Where did Matthew have this from? He does not appear to have been a disciple of John’s, even if I am right in thinking he had come to repent and be baptized by that man. He was, as so many on the shore, an ‘accidental’ witness to events, an innocent bystander as it were, if he was there at all.
I am put in mind, once again, that the requirement for the apostolic office, as we see it unfold in Acts, was that they were men who were with Him from the start, ‘beginning with the baptism of John’ (Ac 1:22). If this was a requirement for the new Apostle, surely it was true of those who already stood in that office, yet we don’t read of Matthew joining them for some time after the events of the baptism. I will maintain, then, that he was there, witness to what had passed, but may well have been gone the next day, when John pointed Him out to his disciples.
Then, of course, there is John. He, too, tells us of things that the others neglect to mention. He remembers that comment of John’s, “There is the Lamb of God!” Why is it that he alone recalls this? I would suspect it is because he was also there to hear it repeated the next day when Jesus returned, that he was the one who, with Andrew, heard from their own teacher that Messiah stood before them. John’s life is probably the one we are most familiar with from the lives of the Apostles, and that this moment was a moment of profoundest impact on that young man is evident. In truth, I think the impact on Matthew may well have surpassed that upon John, but we simply don’t have the record of Matthew that we have of John. Consider that John was a very young man, a youth, and still flush with the idealism of youth. He was easily moved to follow men of good standing. He had rapidly joined himself to the Baptist’s discipling, and as rapidly shifted to Jesus when his first teacher pointed out the One who was greater. But Matthew was an older man, employed in a service fit to numb the heart of a man, serving the forces of the enemy, so far as his kinsmen were concerned, and shunned by them. He was an outcast from his own native society because of the means by which he made his living. That one already calloused by the years should feel that same impact, undergo that same change is powerful!
Now I come to my point in all this: All four of these men, whether direct witnesses of the events, or having come by the records of this Jesus from others, met with evidence they could not reasonably reject. Luke, in particular, was of a class not likely to follow after anything less. He was a physician, a man of letters, trained in logic and rhetoric in the finest Greek tradition. He was not a man to be convinced by folklore and myths. He sought ought the evidence and witness of those who had been there, and came away more fully convinced than ever. He faced the evidence, and found no reason to reject the claims of the Apostles. They were not just powerfully deluded, they were firmly founded in reality. Here’s the clincher, then: If there is no reasonable ground for rejecting the Christ, our lives have got to change. If we have faced the evidence, if we have allowed ourselves an honest encounter with the evidence, allowed ourselves an honest assessment of the evidence, we must conclude that this Jesus was indeed the Christ, the Son of God by God’s own declaration. There are simply too many witnesses to that declaration to reasonably deny it! And, if He truly is the Messiah, if He truly is God Incarnate, then all that follows upon His presence among men must also be accepted as real and true. That includes His claims upon us, for He purchased our freedom, He paid for our loyal service to His cause of righteousness. We who were once enemies of God have been made friends of God by the work of His own Son, by the death of His own Son, who cried out, “Father, forgive them.” Father heard, and Father acceded to the wishes of the Son, for the wishes of the Son were His own wishes.
How can we possibly know the truth of this, and not be changed by it? If it has not turned our lives upside down, then I must maintain that we still haven’t grasped the truth! It is impossible! One simply cannot encounter the reality of Jesus, the very real presence of God among man, dying the death of man that man might live the life of God, and not be changed. If death has been conquered, what remains for us to fear? If Jesus has brought victory over sin, what remains to hold us in the camps of the enemy? If Jesus, the Son of God, has labored so on our behalf, what shall we not do at His least request? What shall we not face if He says, ‘Go’? What shall we not lay down and count as rubbish if He says, ‘leave it’?
The Sign of the Dove (2/9/05)
Here, I want to make a correction to something I wrote while looking at the symbolism found in the scene of Jesus’ baptism. When I was looking at the dove, I noted that that first dove of mention, the one Noah sent from the ark, was sent three times, and I compared this to Jesus. Yet, the dove, here, is the body chosen by the Holy Spirit for His appearance. I find, then, that it is really the Holy Spirit whose ministries we ought to find foreshadowed in that first dove, and I think we shall find that the imagery holds.
The first time Noah sent out the dove, the dove found no place to rest. Here, we might see the Spirit hovering over the chaos of the waters at the very beginning of creation (Ge 1:2). As yet, there was no life to be found, let alone a man in God’s image. There was no place for the Spirit to rest in these days of creation, so He did His work and returned to the Ark of Heaven.
The second time the dove went out, it returned bearing an olive branch, the sign of peace, yet still it did not remain in the land, but returned to the ark. Here, I am put in mind of the Spirit’s ministering throughout the period of the Old Covenant. He it was who came with wisdom for Solomon, with devotion for David. He it was who gave the prophets the words they must speak, who informed the judges, who brought dreams to men of old. Yet, He never stayed. He bore His proclamations of peace from the throne room of God, and He bore back to the throne room the covenants of peace signed by men of God’s own choosing, but He did not remain.
A third time, the dove was sent, and this time it did not return. Can you see the pouring out of the Holy Spirit in this? There came that day of promise after Jesus had ascended to the heavens. By His request and in accord with His promise, the Other Advocate was sent, the Paraklete. The Holy Spirit was sent out to all those whom the Father had put in the hands of the Son, and He would remain with those chosen ones, would abide in them as a constant Companion, a permanent Guide and Counsel.
How thankful I am, Holy One, that You have come to us that third time! How marvelous to know that You are ever with me, even to the end of my days! What joy to know that every morning as I wake You are with me, working out the renewal that I need, working that change that is so inevitable having met Jesus, yet so impossible for my flesh. My need for You is as constant as Your presence in me, and I can never thank You enough that Your presence in me is as constant as my need. Oh! Keep me aware of You abiding in this temple of flesh! Keep me keenly aware of Your company as I go through my day today, for You are glorious, worthy of my praise, and it pains me to think how often I offend Your holiness by my foolish ways. What patience is Yours, that You bear with me as I grow! What great compassion is Yours, that You bring that growth in spite of me! Make my life to be a sacrifice pleasing in Your presence, my God, my Spirit, my Life! Bring the change.
The Worth of the Lamb (2/10/05-2/11/05)
Behold the Lamb of God! Behold the Perfect Sacrifice, which takes away our sins, and consecrates us to His service! How much is wrapped up in that image of the lamb! So much of the Mosaic system was centered on the offering of a perfect lamb. It was the sacrifice for sin, it was the sacrifice for purification, and it was the sacrifice for dedication to His service. There are two particular aspects of the lamb that I want to consider here. The first is that noted in Exodus 29:39-45. There, Moses had established that there was to be a ‘continual burnt offering’ presented to God. There would be no stopping point. He goes on to say that because of this continual burnt offering, God would meet with His people, and consecrate them by His glory (not to His glory, but by His glory).
Now, it can be said with utmost assurance that the sacrificial system established by Moses came to an end. The continual sacrifice did not continue indefinitely. I recall the light that was in the temple we shared before our church purchased the property outright. That light was to remain on at all times, a representation of the continual sacrifice. Yet, I know there were times when the switch was thrown by accident, and the light went out. I have not doubt there were similar lapses in the original system of sacrifices long before the practice was brought to its more permanent end.
I come to this conclusion: That sacrifice that was presented by man was not the sacrifice God had in view. Indeed, there would come a time when the sacrifices men offered would become a stench in His nostrils for, though they adhered to the requirements laid out by Moses, they were not offered in sincerity. They were no more than the murder of animals, for the heart of the offerer was far from Him. No, God was looking beyond the sacrificial system, just as that system itself was intended to look beyond its own rituals. He was looking to the sacrifice of His Son, which He had purposed from the beginning, had known as part of His plan of creation before that first moment recorded in Genesis when the Spirit hovered over the waters. Even then, the offering was in place, His person known, the time and place set in the calendars of heaven. Indeed, even then, the offering was being made. I will contend, here, that the Son of God, offered on the cross that Passover day two millennia ago, has been a continual offering to God by God through God since before there was time. It has been continual in that the efficacy of His once for all offering of Himself has in it an eternal value, an eternal capacity to atone. His death reached into the past, covering the history of all those who had died in hope, looking to the Redemption of Israel. His death reaches forward to cover all those who would believe. And, because of the continual burnt offering which is the Son of God, the Lamb of God, God meets with His children, His sons, and consecrates them by the Son who is His glory!
How awesome is that? God has truly provided the Lamb, even as Abraham spoke it so prophetically to his son! Now, to this, I want to add something from the instructions given for that first Passover in Egypt. There is this detail in there that might slip by unnoticed: They were to offer one lamb per household. However, if their family was too small to consume the lamb, they were to share it. Let me rephrase that, just a bit for this present line of thought. If the Lamb is too big for us to consume in whole, we are to share Him. Oh! The Lamb is entirely too big for us to consume! He’s too big for the whole world to consume! Go, therefore, and make disciples…do you see it? The call was there from the outset! It was no new thing that Jesus instituted, it was but the instructions given for the Paschal Lamb. His eternal sacrifice, His continual offering was far greater than the need of those few who gathered around Him for those three years of ministry. Go, therefore, and share the sacrifice, spread the Gospel, feed My sheep.
Notice this, also, about the instructions as we have them from Moses. We are not given to pick and choose with whom we will share this great Good News. No, the instructions were to share with the nearest neighbors. There is to be no least bit of favoritism or selectivity with us. We do not pass by the one next door who seems hopeless to us in favor of the one who seems like such a ready candidate for salvation. We don’t give up on the rich to pursue the poor, nor do we give up on the poor to curry the rich. Go to your nearest neighbor. Start there. Why, in this day and age, it’s not unusual for us to be totally unfamiliar with our nearest neighbors! We have turned our houses into little monasteries where we can hide away from the world, and God keeps telling us to be in the world, where we can share what He has given us. It is, after all, entirely too much for our own use.
I am reminded in this moment of John’s brilliant message about what repentance looks like. If you have more than you need, share it with those who need more than they have. Oh! We look at that and we stop right there at the physical, material application, and look no further. OK, John. So, if I’m earning more than enough, I should contribute to some worthy cause. If my closet’s getting full, I should weed it out, and donate the weeds to Salvation Army, or some such. But, I’ve never thought to move beyond that. What John says of repentance, God says of salvation, of the Good News of the Gospel. That Good News is an incredible, over-abundant surplus of His grace poured out upon us, and what are we doing with it? If we have stopped at glorying in its personal implications for us, we are hording our wealth, not living out repentance. No, the life of repentance, that necessary precursor for salvation, demands that we recognize that the over-abundance with which God has blessed us is for a purpose: to supply the need of our nearest neighbors. The life of repentance demands that we go and make disciples in all the world. But, as ever, it begins in the local area. We don’t need to wander off to far distant mission fields to spread God’s Word. The need is sufficiently great right here in this state, this city, this block.
In what way have we satisfied His commandments if we neglect the most immediate opportunities while we’re waiting for some greater calling upon our lives? What calling could be greater? The Lamb has been offered, and He is so much more than I can consume. How can the All-Sufficient One be consumed by any man?
God, I am hearing a repeating theme in this study, and I know that in hearing it I am hearing You. There is something I must do, there is a necessary change that must come in my life, a new boldness, a new perspective. I can understand it, this morning, yet I am in need of Your present help to move from understanding to action. I feel rushed, this morning, and for that I must beg Your forgiveness. Let me recall this conversation on our next meeting, and let me hear Your voice, feel Your conviction. Let me be moved, like Simeon, by Your purpose, by Your Spirit present within me.
Father, this I know: I have been negligent in doing. I learn so much in these times with You, and yet so little of it – or more properly, certain parts of it – simply don’t seem to come to anything. I learn, I know, but where is the doing? Lord, I don’t have it in me to break free of this. It needs Your strength to overcome this flesh. You are feeding me so well in these studies, shaping me for something, yet there are those places which even if I could not see them for myself I would be made aware of, those places that Your light has not yet shone with its wanted efficacy. I confess this weakness before You, Father, and I ask that You would come and help me to change it. Fill me with boldness to speak from what You have taught me. Lend me strength, Lord, to walk in the ways You have trained me. Work in me, Holy Spirit, that this life You have shaped might give out of the abundance of Your efforts, might bear the fruits of repentance, might reflect the glory which You have brought to me.
The Necessary Rite (2/11/05)
There is yet another lesson to be learned from the instructions for the Passover. This is one of those things that are played out annually even today amongst Jewish families. They come to the Paschal meal, and they are dressed and prepared for immediate departure, just as Moses instructed those in Egypt to be. To this day, fathers are asked by their children why this tradition is maintained, and to this day, the answer remains the same. We dress thus because the time was at hand to flee our captivity, to go and meet with our God, and we must be ready to move at a moment’s notice.
We who serve the Lamb of God, who participate in the all-sufficiency of His sacrifice, are in that same place for the duration of our life on this earth. The time is at hand, and we know not exactly when the call will come to flee our captivity to this body of death. We know not exactly when the command will come to ‘come up here,’ and meet with our God. But, we know that time is imminent, and we are called to live in such a way as to be always ready for that moment, whenever it may come.
There is a sense of immediacy, of expectancy, that ought to inform the whole of our Christian life. Our lives are to be lived in that state of preparedness. Think about it. In recent years, the government has called on us to be prepared, be alert to our surroundings, such that any further attempts by terrorists upon our nation might be thwarted before they can reach fruition. God calls us to a similar preparedness. He calls us to be alert to our surroundings, alert to His activities. He has made it sufficiently clear that none are given to know the exact moment of His return. But, we are called to live in such a way that whenever that moment comes, we will be found ready.
As the revelation of Scripture reached its close, the role of the Church as the bride of Christ, the bride of the Lamb, became more evident. There, near the very end of God’s revealed Word, we are called to rejoice and be glad. What is the cause we have for rejoicing? The marriage of the Lamb has come and His bride is ready. She has been sent for and found waiting in her wedding gown: the clean linen of righteousness, the righteousness bought by the Lamb, and exercised in her own righteous deeds (Rev 19:7-9). Oh, how blessed are we, to be invited to that marriage feast, and not just as guests, but as the bride herself!
That these two thoughts belong together should be self-evident. We remain, in this Christian walk, as those who first prepared the Passover lamb. We are called to partake of the benefit of His sacrifice, and in so doing, we are called to be forever ready for that instant of departure. For the Jews in Israel, that was a function of being dressed and packed for a journey into the desert, and the clothes they wore for travel reflected their destination. For us, the call is to prepare for the journey out of that desert and into the very throne of God. We are not called into a wilderness, now, but to a wedding feast – our own wedding feast! We are not called simply to meet with God, but to come and dwell with Him as part of the family. We are called to present ourselves before royalty, and as such we are called to dress appropriately. The only appropriate dress before a holy God is righteousness, a righteousness we could in no way earn for ourselves, yet a righteousness that must necessarily include our own deeds. If our lives don’t reflect the righteousness that Jesus has given us as our first gift, how can we claim that He has given us righteousness? If He has planted that seed in us, it must grow and bear fruit. If there is no fruit, it can only be that there has been no seed.
The Necessary Effect (2/11/05)
That said, there is no place in our preparations for a depending on our own righteous deeds. Our salvation is still most assuredly a function of Christ’s atoning work, the Lamb that was slain, and nothing else. Since we are just as human as those who went before us in the faith of God, we suffer that same propensity for supposing that the motions and rites of religion will suffice. There would come times in the life of Israel when the sacrifices went on, but the heart was not in it. People came to the Temple, presented themselves to the priests, made their offerings, and then went back to their sinful ways without so much as a thought for why that sacrifice they had presented was necessary.
Through Isaiah, God made it clear what He thought of such activities. That sort of sacrifice is no sacrifice. It is just murder. It is the taking of a life for no purpose, and far from atoning for your sins, you have simply added to them by this action (Isa 66:3). Oh, how desperately we need to hear that warning! I know I do, at any rate. We no longer kill animals on the altar, true, but the point remains so very real for us nonetheless. If my offerings have become just another religious action, then I am yet robbing God, though I were to give Him twice the tithe, though I were to give Him every bit of my income. It would avail me nothing. If my prayers are no more than the dutiful mutterings of one who feels he must say something, then I am yet taking His name in vain, I am yet serving idols rather than the living God. He will not answer. If my songs of praise are just musical exercises and the parroting of words, then I have yet reviled Him to His face.
Oh! How we get caught up in the appearances of our worship! And we don’t even see it happening. We don’t recognize that as we walk through our church with our falsified claims that it is well with our soul when we know full well that we are torn and bleeding inside we are doing that same thing, bringing offerings and making sacrifices that do nothing but add to our burden of sin.
Look again at the bride come to the feast. She is dressed in fine linen, the righteous deeds of the saints. This is more than that righteousness imputed to us by our Bridegroom. It is the fruit of our own efforts having received what He so gladly gave. Are those works of ours going to save us? No. Do they add anything to our cause that wasn’t already ours in Him? No. But if we have no fruits to show, how can we day that we have that which He has given? The fruits are evidence, first to ourselves, and then also to others, that the seed is there. It is not possible that His righteousness has been imputed to us, and it not produce fruits of righteousness – the doing of those good works He has prepared specifically for our doing. It is not possible that the Holy Spirit be resident in this temple of flesh, and the temple not produce the fruits of the Spirit. Indeed, that faith which has produced no fruit is a dead faith, a meaningless word of no value to its owner or its hearer.
John, when he preached by the Jordan, understood the people he was preaching to. He understood exactly what sins were most common to man then, and they really aren’t any different now. On the whole, we are a terribly materialistic and self-centered lot. This is the slavery to which we have submitted ourselves, slavery to the world of fallen man, and to the principality who still rules over that world. These are the chains Christ died to break. If you would be great, be a servant to all. If you have more than enough, give from your abundance to those in want. Stop making storehouses for yourself, for your heart will be chained to that horde. Give, and it will be given to you. All of these things are aimed at the primary issue that pulls us away from our Bridegroom, that seeks to cause us to be unprepared on the day of our wedding. John focused on these issues. Jesus focused on these issues. We would do well to focus on them, too, while there is still light to work in.
God, it seems so cliché to speak of dead works, yet they are worse than dead. They are deadly. Worse than doing nothing, You are saying that they serve to my detriment. Help me, Lord, to let go of every dead labor. Help me to case from ‘majoring in the minors,’ Father, and to do those things that are pleasing to You. Lord! It cannot be that these words and thoughts be empty words of death. Yet, if I don’t find the fruit of Your presence in my present, what am I to think? Oh, say I have not become such an impossible case that You have given up on me! No! It cannot be! My God, You are faithful, even when I have shown myself utterly faithless and untrustworthy. Though this flesh is weak, Lord, I know the desire is in me to please You, and I know, too, that apart from the faith You bring, it is an impossibility. But nothing, my God, nothing is impossible with You. No! It is possible that I shall overcome the tongue I trained so long to vile invective, because You are with me, even to the end of the age. It is possible that I shall bear bold witness to those among whom You have placed me because You will give me the words to speak, if I will but hear and heed Your voice. It is possible that I shall have victory over the sins and habits of my life, because You are here every morning, renewing this mind, reshaping this life. Oh, God! Let my soul not despair of Your goodness, for I know You are here. Oh, soul, you have no cause to be downcast, your Lord and Savior is present still! Though you stumble, He upholds you. Though you falter, He strengthens you.
Father, Spirit, sweet Jesus, I implore You, I beg of You that You would hear and answer this cry of mine: that these words would be more then empty words, that they would be seeds of Your own planting growing quickly to fruit of Your own pleasure. Help me, Lord, not to take offense when Your words of correction come in ways I don’t want to hear. No, no correction is pleasant at the time, I know, but God! Teach me to hold the reins on this rebel flesh. Crush the pride that still resides in every part of me. Extinguish the anger, and let Your sweet Spirit be the evidence of my every moment. Though it feels impossible as I speak it to You now, I ask this, and I ask knowing that what seems impossible to me is by no means impossible, for You are with me. Come, Lord. Come work in this temple You have purchased. Come, clean out anything I have dragged in that ought not to be here, and let Your pure light shine into every corner.
