The Way Home

Time for a Change

Posted on February 4, 2025 by salooper57

In this sermon, Shayne gives five reasons to change your life, based on 1 Peter 1. He then offers suggestions of what that change might look like in real life.

(If you prefer to read the text of this sermon (there will be variations from the spoken message), you can find it below.)

Once, when we were visiting at my parents (it must have been 1993), my dad and I were alone in the kitchen and, out of the blue, he said to me: “I’d like you to do something for me.”

Instead of saying, “Sure,” I said, “What?” With my dad, I didn’t know what was coming next.

He said, “When I die, I’d like you to officiate my funeral.”

I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t that. He was younger than I am now, in good health, and was the toughest guy as I knew.

So, I said, “Okay, but I want you to do something for me.”

This time it was his turn to say, “What?”

I said, “Stop smoking! I’ve done too many funerals for people who have died from lung cancer.”

He replied, “Oh, don’t worry about me.”

So, I said yes to his request, and he said no to mine. About a year later, he was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer. Less than two years after that, I was officiating his funeral.

(By the way, my dad did quit smoking. I called him a week or two after he quit just to ask how he was doing. He answered in his inimitable way: “I never thought it would be this easy. You know, I only want one cigarette. I want it to be 8-feet long, but I only want one.”)

Change is hard, whether the change involves addictive substances or patterns of thinking. And yet change is required of every Christian. Other people may say, “I’m never going to change,” but Jesus’s people say, “I have changed and, by the grace of God, I’ll keep on changing until I am like Jesus.”

If God has been nudging you to change, consider this sermon a push. If he has been speaking to you, consider it a shout.

Today, I want to give you five reasons to change. These five reasons come from 1 Peter 1:10-19. Listen as I read to you verses 10-12. Concerning this salvation, the prophets, who spoke of the grace that was to come to you, searched intently and with the greatest care, trying to find out the time and circumstances to which the Spirit of Christ in them was pointing when he predicted the sufferings of the Messiah and the glories that would follow. It was revealed to them that they were not serving themselves but you, when they spoke of the things that have now been told you by those who have preached the gospel to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven. Even angels long to look into these things.

Reason number 1: You need to change because you are caught up in the most important thing happening in the world today. The matter of supreme importance on the globe right now has nothing to with the rise of AI, international tariffs, or China’s intention to displace the U.S. as the world’s leader. The most important thing in the world is what God is doing—and is going to do next. Peter calls “this salvation,” in verse 10. You should change your lifestyle because God is bringing his salvation plans to fulfillment.

This salvation, this healing of the world, dwarfs everything else that is going on. Thousands of years ago, prophets were making careful searches and inquiries into it, trying to discover the timing and circumstances surrounding it. And now, in St. Paul’s memorable phrase (1 Cor. 10:11), “the fulfillment of the ages has come.” Did you realize that we are living in the time about which the prophets spoke? It is happening now! That is a good reason to change your life.

This thing is so important (verse 12) that angels long to look into it. Beings that existed before humanity appeared on earth, beings of unimaginable power and superhuman intellect, long to look into these things. The word translated “long” is usually translated “lust.” It connotes strong desire. This salvation is so fantastically important that these otherworldly being have an intense longing to know about it. And you and I are a part of it.

A second reason you should change your life is because of who you are. You are (verse 14) obedient children or, literally, “children of obedience.” Before you trusted Christ and came over to his side, you were one of “the children of disobedience.” (That’s Paul’s phrase from Ephesians 2:2.) But things changed for you when, as Peter said back in verse 3, God gave you new birth into his family.

Imagine a nine-year-old who is adopted into a loving family. The people he had been with were crude and lewd and by age 9 he has picked up many of their habits. He uses shocking language, shouts out sexually explicit phrases he doesn’t understand and, when he doesn’t get his way, he hurts himself and others. One day I visit this family and, when I see what’s happening, I take that young boy aside and tell him: “You are now a Smith (or a Jones). It’s time to stop acting like your name is Swine or Brute.”

That is essentially what Peter is doing. He is saying, “You are part of a new family – God’s family. So, stop acting like you are still part of that abusive family you grew up in. In Peter’s words, “Do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance.” You didn’t know any other way then, but now you do.

There is background to this that we need to understand. Humans were designed to conform – God’s entire plan depends on it. He took dust of the earth, added water, and we became a kind of modelling clay, a human Play-Doh. We take the shape of what is around us and we harden into that shape. When we lived in ignorance, we “conformed to the evil desires” we had. Our lives took the shape of lust, or greed, or anger, or pride. But now we have been born into God’s family through faith in Jesus Christ and are being reshaped. We are still being conformed, but this time it is to the image of God’s Son.

The third reason you should change goes beyond who you are to whose you are: change because of who your Father is. Lots of pastors tell their kids they can’t do this thing or that thing – or yell at them after they’ve done it – because of what church people might think. That is a mistake. If our kids wanted to do something with their friends that seemed questionable or was likely to land them on morally shaky ground, we would tell them no. When they asked why, as teenagers do, I would say. “Because you are a Looper. But, more importantly, because you bear the name of Christ.” I wanted them to remember whose family they belonged to.

Because God is your Father (verse 17) and because he is holy (verse 16), you should “be holy in all you do” (verse 15). We assume that means, “Be religious in all you do.” It does not. Being holy has nothing to do with spouting catchphrases like, “Praise the Lord,” “God is good,” or “I’ll be praying for you.” Being holy does not mean you don’t laugh or enjoy sports or like nice things or take vacations. But it does mean that you are different.

That difference is not cosmetic. It is comprehensive. People have sometimes talked as if holiness is about how you dress or what kind of music you listen to. It is not. You can be holy whether you speak Farsi or English or Wolof, but you cannot be holy if you use your words to condemn or to gossip. You can be holy whether you wear a blouse or a Nike T-shirt or go topless (if you’re Wolof), but you are not being holy if you dress to intimidate or to titillate, to compel submission or evoke lust.

The heart of holiness is being different and that difference results from the fact that God’s Son has brought us into his family. We are different because we are his—his sons and daughters. A Christian who wants to please our Father and look like our savior is going to be different.

One difference between us and many other people is that we acknowledge God’s authority to say what is right and wrong. He gets to tell us what to do. That is radically different from how most of our neighbors live.

People do what is right in their own eyes. We choose to do what is right in God’s eyes. Our interests don’t come first; his do—and then our neighbor’s. We can live like this because we trust our Father to take care of us.

To live like this is to be different. To live like that is to be holy. And why live like this? Because God is our Father, and we are part of his family.

Here is a fourth reason to change: there is going to be a judgment and God is the judge. That is the teaching of the Bible from Genesis to Revelation, and that is what Peter has in mind in verse 17: “Since you call on a Father who judges each person’s work impartially, live out your time as foreigners here in reverent fear.” There are some things to notice. First, note the word “each”: each person’s workis going to be judged. No one gets a pass.

Second, take note of the word “work.” The judgment Peter has in mind is not about your admission into God’s eternal kingdom. If you have the eternal kind of life that comes through faith in Jesus, that has already been taken care of. Peter is talking about a judgment of your work He doesn’t mean your job or career. He’s talking about what your life has produced during your time on earth.

Next, note the one judging your work is your Father. Do you realize what that means? Your judge is not some stranger, or enemy, or rival. He is not some infamously nitpicking critic. He is your Father who loves you. Whatever he may say about your work, what he says about you is this: “This is my child” – if you are indeed his child through faith in Jesus Christ. If you are not, believe on Jesus Christ today!

He is your Father, but he is also a perfectly just judge. He will not ignore the faults in your work because you are his child, like some parents do. But neither will he, like other parents, be harder on you than he is on everyone else because you are his child. Your life work is going to be judged and it will be judged accurately. As 1 Corinthians 3:13 put it, “Their work will be shown for what it is.”

If your work survives that examination, you will have a reward, which will, I think, include the enjoyment in the next age of what your life produced in this age. That will be a sweeter fruit and more enjoyable than you can now imagine. But if your work does not survive the examination, neither will your reward.

Peter wants us to keep this in mind. He tells us, “…live out your time as foreigners here in reverent fear.” Understand what is at stake. Our work – not the employment that makes us money but the product of our life – is going to be judged. That means that what you and I do now has lasting consequences.

Peter calls our time on earth (literal translation), “the time of your alien residency here.” Before we moved to Elkhart, there was an influx of immigrants into the small town where we lived. Whenever we went to Walmart, we would see lots of people who were born in another country: Africans, Middle Easterners, people from the Caribbean. Most had a different mother tongue. Many wore different clothing. It was easy to recognize them as foreigners.

And Jesus’s people should be recognizable for the same reason. “Our citizenship,” St. Paul says, “is in heaven and we eagerly await a savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Philippians 3:20). Would to God that people at Walmart recognized us as foreigners, as people who are different – who are holy – because our citizenship is in heaven and our customs come from there.

A fifth reason to change is because of the inconceivably high price God paid to make a new way of life possible for you. Peter contrasts that new way to “the empty way of life from which we were redeemed” (v. 18). When we hear the word “redeemed,” our brains immediately categorize it as religious. Peter’s first readers would not have done that. For them, this was a word that came right out of the community’s social life. They knew people who were redeemed. They themselves may have been redeemed. They didn’t think of it solely (or even especially) as a religious thing.

When Peter was writing, slavery was a major economic driver, comparable, say, to retail trade in our day. At one point, half the people living in Rome were slaves. The economy of the ancient world would have utterly collapsed if the institution of slavery had ended abruptly. But an individual’s slavery could end abruptly if he were (Peter’s word) “redeemed.”

The way that usually happened was this: a slave would save all the money he could, get friends and family to contribute and, when he had enough to make an offer, he would take it to the priest of Artemis or the priest of Apollo, who, after taking a cut, would make a deal with the slaveowner to redeem the slave. The slaveowner would then sign a paper acknowledging the slave had been released to Apollo or Artemis. Such a person was called a “freedman.”

Peter thinks of our life before Christ as a kind of slavery. It was “empty” as the NIV puts it. It led nowhere. We couldn’t help living that way because we were born as slaves. And we didn’t think much about it because everyone we knew was living the same way. We weren’t trying to get out of slavery, just make our slavery a little more comfortable.

But it was not some priest of Artemis or Apollo who bought us out of that old way of life. It was the high priest Jesus who released us into the service of the Lord of heaven and earth. And he didn’t use our own resources to redeem us out of slavery. He paid for us with his own blood. How can we go on living like everyone else, slaves to the empty desires that once controlled us, after we have been bought at such a price?

I’ve repeatedly said that we should change and related five reasons from 1 Peter 1 for doing so, but what does that look like? How should we change?

First, change the object of your hope (this is verse 13). In the empty, slave-way of life, people’s hope is about having a little more: a little more money, a little more time, a little nicer house. They hope for a more comfortable slavery. Stop hoping like a slave and start hoping like a son or daughter. Set your hope fully on the grace to be give you when Jesus Christ is revealed. He is going to make you more than comfortable. He is going to make you glorious.

Next, change your routine. Do you know what it means if you do what everyone else does and desire the same things they desire? It means you have been assimilated. Look at your life: if you are pursuing the same goals, valuing the same stuff, and spending time the same way as everyone else, you’re not living here as a foreigner. You’ve settled down. It’s time to settle up. If God has been speaking to you about changing something in your life, that is the place to start.

(This is just an aside. One easy way to be different is to go to church every week. That will differentiate you from 80 percent of all Americans.)

Finally, change what you tolerate in your life. I’m not talking about what you tolerate from others but what you tolerate in yourself. Ruthlessly eliminate (this is 2:1): “all malice” (that’s the desire for other people to get their comeuppance and to fail) “and all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander” (whether online or in-person). Malice, deceit, hypocrisy, envy, slander—that’s life in this world. It is not life in Christ.

You will need help to change, and God will give you that help. Ask him. Trust him. But understand that change requires (verse 13) “minds that are alert and fully sober.” In other words, you’ll need to think about this.

By “fully sober,” many scholars think Peter means only “clear-headed,” but since he mentions drinking later in the letter, we can’t rule out a literal reading. It’s impossible to do the kind of thinking needed to change your life when you’re drinking a lot – or even more than a little.

But alcohol is hardly the only thing that leaves us muddled. We can get buzzed on social media, non-stop news, hobbies, and shopping. I suppose such things have stopped more people from advancing spiritually than alcohol ever has. Whatever keeps your mind distracted, prevents you from going to God, and leaves you incapable of trusting him, needs to go.

It’s time for a change. That I should change pricks my conscience. That I can change gives me hope. That that change is into the likeness of Jesus causes me to pray, “Lord, I want to be like you!”

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Church, Lifestyle, Sermons, Spiritual life, Uncategorized, Worldview and Culture | Tagged "angels long to look into these things", 1 Peter 3:18, Christian hope, Christians as resident aliens, God's judgment, meaning of redemption, Our citizenship is in heaven, Philippians 3:20 | Leave a comment

The Process of Spiritual Formation: Implementation

Posted on February 1, 2025 by salooper57

That first step in implementation – even if it seems a little thing – is absolutely critical.

In church circles, people sometimes talk about God opening doors. That image comes from the Bible, from the apostle Paul, who wrote, “…a great door for effective work has opened for me” (1 Corinthians 16:9). When people talk about God opening a door for them, we usually think that everything just fell into place.

But when Paul talked about God opening a door for him, that’s not what he was thinking, and it’s not what he said. He was thinking of effective ministry, not smooth sailing, and they are not the same thing. We mistakenly assume that if God has opened a door for us, everything will be easy. If it’s not, if it gets hard, we think that we must have been wrong about God opening the door.

But the open door Paul was talking about was in Ephesus in Asia Minor. He went through that open door and found that it led both to effective work – many people chose to believe in Jesus and turn their lives to God – and also to much trouble. It was while he was doing effective work in Ephesus that anti-Christian feelings fostered a riot in which he came close to being killed, and some of his friends were arrested and mistreated. Yet Paul never doubted that God had opened this door. He didn’t interpret hardship as evidence that his course of action was outside God’s will.

This is the concluding article in a series on how spiritual growth takes place. We have seen a three-step process to spiritual growth. (1) A person has an insight. (2) He or she decides on a course of action based on that insight. (3) That person implements the decision he or she has made.

The Book of Nehemiah illustrates this process. Nehemiah, an important official in the Persian government, learns that the effort to repopulate Jerusalem has stalled. People do not want to move back. The situation there is too unstable. The city is still, after many decades, a pile of rubble. Nehemiah realizes (this is his insight) that something must be done—that God intends that something be done.

He begins to pray about this, not once or twice but for four or five months. During those months a thought comes to him: “Maybe I could do something about this.” Then, as he continues to pray, a further thought comes: “God wants me to do something about this!” And then he has a decision to make. Will he leave his home and his important job and go to Jerusalem based on what God seems to be saying? Should he risk everything for it?

He has gone through step one (insight) and step two (decision) of the process of spiritual formation. But there is a third step: Implementation. This third step is formidable. He is living nearly 800 miles from Jerusalem. He works a government job which he cannot simply quit. If the king does not give him leave, he will not be able to go. And even if the king gives him leave, what can he do? He needs resources: cash, workers, delegated authority, letters of reference, and supplies – tons of supplies.

Suddenly, making the decision to go to Jerusalem (something he may have struggled with for months) seems like the easy part. Implementing the decision seems overwhelming.

Nehemiah knew that his first step was to request a leave of absence from the king. When the opportunity arose – the king asked him point-blank, “What do you want?” – Nehemiah was ready to answer. And what an answer! It comes in three parts: (1) Let me go to Jerusalem to oversee reconstruction of the city wall; (2) Give me letters to the provincial governors, so that they’ll know you’re on board with this; and (3) Order your supply and support personnel to provide me the necessary materials.

It was clear that Nehemiah had thought this through.

Still, talking to the king was only the first step in implementing his decision to do something for Jerusalem. He did not know what he was going to find when he got there – what trouble he would encounter (he encountered plenty), what needs he was going to have, or what support was going to be available. If Nehemiah had waited until he had it all figured out, he never would have done anything. We can’t see around corners, and we cannot plan for every contingency. And why do we want to? So that we can be safe.

God wants us to change the world, and we want to be safe. God wants us to risk all on him, and we want a guarantee. God’s word is a light for our feet; we want a satellite photo of our future. When we’ve had an insight and made a decision, if we don’t act until we know what all the implementation steps are, we’ll never take the first one.

An impala can jump as far as thirty feet and clear a height of ten feet. But an impala will stop in front of a four-foot stone fence because it cannot see where its feet will land. The lion will have it for dinner because it will only jump if it can see where it will land. If Nehemiah had waited to see where he would land, he never would have jumped.

Many people make decisions for Christ and fully intend to carry them out but never get started. That first step in implementation – even if it seems a little thing – is absolutely critical. Once we have decided to do something for God, everything hinges on taking the first step.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Spiritual life | Tagged 1 Corinthians 16:9, Biblical book of Nehemiah, God opens doors, How people grow spiritually, Implementing change, Nehemiah 1, Process of spiritual formation | Leave a comment

Proof of Faith (I Peter 1:6-9)

Posted on January 28, 2025 by salooper57

In 2020, President Biden mandated all businesses with more than a hundred people on the payroll to require proof of vaccine or proof of a negative weekly COVID test before employees could return to work. An uproar ensued. A representative in the House quickly introduced a bill to overturn the mandate and it wasn’t long before cases were appearing in the courts.

Even before the onset of COVID, we were already familiar with phrases that begin with the words, “proof of.” On TV crime dramas, the hostage negotiator requires “proof of life.” To drive a car, you need “proof of insurance.” When applying for benefits, people need “proof of residence.” There is also “proof of domicile,” and “proof of citizenship.” In engineering, publishing, and business, there is something called “proof of concept.”

But did you know that God also has a “proof of” requirement—and no court will overturn it. People can to forge a “proof of” card – many have tried – and they might fool me, but they won’t fool God.

What is this “proof of” that God requires? First, let me tell you what it’s not. It is not “proof of church attendance,” as important as the church is. It is not “proof of good works,” though there is an undeniable connection between it and good works. It is not “proof of theological orthodoxy,” nor is it “proof of position” on social issues like abortion, gay rights, and gender.

What then is this proof that God requires? It is “proof of faith”—faith in his Son, the messiah Jesus. Let me give you a few background passages. There is John 8:24, where Jesus says, “…if you do not believe that I am” – and the word “believe” is the verbal form the Greek word translated “faith” in English – “you will indeed die in your sins.” Or, how about Hebrews 11:6: “…without faith it is impossible to please [God].” Or Galatians 2:16: “We know that a person is not justified by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ, so we also have believed in Christ Jesus, in order to be justified by faith.”

Here are some others. John 5:24: Jesus said, “Whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life.” Ephesians 2:8: “For by grace you have been saved through faith.” Romans 3:28: “A person is justified by faith.” Romans 11:20: “You stand by faith.” 2 Cor. 5:7: “We walk by faith.” Galatians again: “We … have put our faith in Christ Jesus that we may be justified by faith in Christ and not by observing the law.” There are many others.

We must have faith in God and in his Son Jesus Christ. No passport to the new heaven and new earth will be issued without proof of faith. Without it, there is no citizenship in the kingdom of God. Everything in the spiritual life – and all of life is spiritual – depends on faith.

Let me go further. God wants you to have “proof of faith” for your own sake. He does not want you to be in doubt about him nor does he want you to have doubts about your faith in him. He will work with you to provide you “proof of faith.”

But how do we go about getting it? You’re not going to like the answer to that question. We need to be tested. You were afraid I would say that. Don’t be afraid. God will help us with the test, and that will give us confidence that will make life much better.

No one gets a pass on testing, though some people are tested more often than others. The great ones, it seems to me, get tested most. Listen to what St. Peter says (1 Peter 1:6-9): “In this [God’s protection of his people through faith] you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”

Peter says that trials have come so that your faith may be proved genuine. We need to break that down. First, what are these trials he is talking about? The Greek word translated “trials” has a long history. It was used of medical testing, even in ancient times. In the Greek translation of the Old Testament, it was used of trying out armor. In Exodus, we read that the gift of the law (and the manner in which it was given) was a test: Moses told people, “Do not be afraid. God has come to test you” (Exodus 20:20). How a person responds to God is always a test.

In the New Testament, Jesus used this word in a story about a buyer who took a yoke of oxen out for a trial run. Everyone is tested. God’s commands test us, and so do the devil’s temptations. God does not intend these tests to hurt us any more than the doctor intends to hurt us with an X-Ray. The tests we undergo are meant to reveal the state of our faith, which is critically important. Our survival depends on faith.

In the original language, Peter uses eight words to explain the purpose of testing. The NIV condenses it to just four: “may be proved genuine.” A more literal translation (leaving out the part about the value of faith) might go like this: “that the process of proving your faith should cause you to be approved.” The approval process requires the testing of faith.

Okay. Trials test our faith, but what constitutes a trial? What kinds of things are said to test and prove us in the Bible? And are such tests always grievous?

They are not. One test that most of us would not think of as grievous is being praised. But according to Proverbs 27:21, praise tests a person. Everyone knows that criticism tests us, but who knew that being praised is a test? Yet many people who have stood the test of criticism have failed the test of praise. Praise is especially useful for revealing whether our faith is in God or is in our ourselves.

Money is also a test of faith – both a lack of money and an abundance of it. When we lack what we need – think of the Israelites in the desert – our faith in God gets tested. The Israelites frequently failed that test, which showed up in the test results as complaining and rebellion. But when we trust God at such times, good things happen. And trusting God this time makes trusting him next time easier. Each time we pass a test, we get our “proof of faith” updated and God gets glory.

But it is important to remember what is being tested when we go through trials. It is not your worth. It is not your strength. It’s not your Bible knowledge. It is your faith.

I mentioned that lack of resources tests our faith, but ample resources do too. Many people who pass the lack of resources test fail the ample resources test – the rich young ruler is an example. The proverbist understood this and prayed, “Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, ‘Who is the Lord?’ Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God” (Proverbs 30:8-9a). Money, and the lack thereof, is a test of faith.

Let me suggest a few others. Being misunderstood is a test of faith. Jesus endured this painful test repeatedly. Unfair treatment is a test. So is uncertainty about the future. Unanswered questions, including questions about God, are a test of faith. Think of poor John the Baptist, stuck in a prison cell with unanswered questions about Jesus. That was a test of faith.

Health problems bring many of the tests together simultaneously. The money test: Can I afford treatment? Can I afford the time off? Uncertainty: What will happen if I wait? Will it hurt? Will I die? Questions about God: Why is God allowing this? Questions about ourselves: Have I done something wrong? Can I endure this?

Relationship troubles – problems with marriage partners, friends, and parents – also test our faith. The Apostle Paul was tested in this way when his friends deserted him (he tells us about it in 2 Timothy 4:16), but he passed the test.

Many things in everyday life test us. James makes that clear when he connects “trials of many kinds” with “the testing of your faith” (James 1:2-3). The word translated “of many kinds” is literally “many-colored.” Some trials are blue – depressing. Some are red – filled with anger. Some are black – threatening despair. Some are green – promising money and success.

Peter uses that same word, “many-colored,” here and also in chapter 4. There he is describing the grace of God. I find that encouraging. For every color of trial that we face, there is a color of grace to match. For trials that are depressing there is grace that is uplifting. For trials that are full of rage there is the grace that brings peace. For trials that are black with despair, there is the grace of hope. For trials that promise prosperity – at the price of faithfulness – there is the grace of contentment.

God knows the trials we face and has grace ready to help us pass the test. Grace for the trial of illness, the trial of poverty, the trial of wealth, the trial of relational conflict, the trial of uncertainty and disappointment. We can pass every test, but only if we go to God for his grace. Even when the trial comes in the form of doubts about God, the only way to pass it is by going to God. I’ve seen people fail that test, and I’ve seen people pass it.

Look at verse 6 again. Peter says, “now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief.” One of the hardest things about our trials is believing that the grief is only for a little while. It feels like the grief will never end. And, indeed, the situation may continue, but when we trust God the grief does not. I like how Andrew Peterson put it: “The man of all sorrows, he never forgot what sorrow is carried by the hearts that he bought. So, when the questions dissolve into the silence of God. the aching may remain, but the breaking does not.”

The line in verse 6 that the NIV translates as, “you may have had,” is in Greek a parenthetical phrase. A literal translation goes like this: “Now for a little while, if necessary…” That suggests that tests and suffering are not always necessary. Sometimes they are, but at other times they are not. I suspect that most of us have gone through painful trials that could have been avoided had we simply done what we knew to be God’s will.

When Jesus taught us to pray, “Lead us not into temptation,” the word he used is the one translated “trials” here. Every trial contains in itself the temptation to stop trusting God. We ought to pray, “Lead us not into temptation” – into the trial – but how often we lead ourselves into it by ignoring God and his word. No one can avoid testing altogether – even Jesus went through testing, and he never ignored God. But let’s not put ourselves through it unnecessarily.

Perhaps the test you are in right now could have been avoided—perhaps not. But you are in it now and you can pass it! God is ready to give you his many-colored grace. But you will not pass this test on your own because the test is not about how strong or how smart you are on your own—just the opposite. It’s about how connected you are to God by faith. The way to pass this test is not to double down but to look up to our heavenly Father and faithful Savior. We need to go to them: “Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need” (Hebrews 4:16).

There are two more things we need to know. We need to know that testing not only shows what is true about our faith now, it also purifies our faith for the future. I think verse 7 implies that testing refines our faith—and our faith needs refining! It is full of impurities. We can think we are trusting God when we are really only trusting what people have said about him. We can mistake our feelings for faith, so that when we feel good, we think our faith is strong, and when we feel down, we think our faith is lost. That needs to be refined out of us.

We can also mistake faith in our abilities for faith in God; it is not. Impurities like these need to be removed, and God will do that in as gentle a manner as possible. But we’ll make it harder than it needs to be if we cling to these counterfeits of faith.

We also need to know that there are enormous benefits in passing the test. This is a literal translation of verse 7: “the proven genuineness of your faith results in praise, glory, and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.” Your faith in Jesus Christ honors God more than building big churches, or preaching great sermons, or going to the mission field, or depriving yourself of something you really want. Trust honors the trusted. When we trust God, especially in hard times – relationship troubles, uncertainty, financial need, health concerns – he is greatly honored.

Trusting him is not easy for us fallen human beings, and we shouldn’t expect it to be, but it is something that we can get better at. Trusting him is our work. When people asked Jesus, “What must we do to do the works of God?” he answered, “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent” (John 6:28-29). Trust is our job. It is the work that most honors God.

But there is more to it than that. Yes, we honor God when we trust him in our relationship troubles, uncertainty, financial need, and health concerns. But he returns the favor. God honors us. It is almost unthinkable, but it is at least part of what Peter had in mind. “These have come so that your faith … may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.”

It is possible that we – any of us who so chooses but none of us who does not – may hear Jesus Christ himself say to us, “Well done, good and faithful servant! …Come and share your master’s happiness!” (Matthew 25:21). Jesus said, “How can you believe since you accept glory from one another but do not seek the glory that comes from the only God?” (John 5:44)—the glory that comes from God! St. Paul wrote, “At that time [he is talking about the judgment] each will receive his praise from God.”

This is astonishing to many of us. The idea of judgment has always frightened us. We have expected only blame. But Father God loves to praise his children. He will bring up things we have long forgotten. “Oh, I loved it that day when you stopped on the interstate to help that old couple from Missouri.” “I was so proud of you when you gave your little sister those beads that you wanted for yourself.” “But Lord, I was only 5 years old.” And he will say, “Yes! Yes! Wasn’t it wonderful?”

The Bible links God’s praise for his children to their trust in him. That means that your trust today will make a difference on Judgment Day. If you will trust God and his son Jesus in your situation – and for some of you that situation is raging at the ramparts of your soul – you will honor and please him. And he won’t forget it. And neither will you.

Trust him. Trust him in this scary, hard, grievous trial. He will not let you down. Our trust is fragile, but his trustworthiness is unbreakable. “The one who trusts in him will never be put to shame” (Romans 9:33; Isa. 28:16). Quite the opposite: the one who trusts in him will receive his praise from God.

Be that one. Let’s help each other be that one. Trust in God is contagious. Be the one who spreads it through our church.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Peace with God, Sermons, Spiritual life, Uncategorized | Tagged 1 Peter 1:6-9, Faith, Hebrews 4:16, James 1:2-3, The Lord's Prayer, Trials in the Christian life, Well done good and faithful servant, Why does God allow suffering? | Leave a comment

Stop Worrying About What Will Happen: Start Thinking About What You Will Do

Posted on January 25, 2025 by salooper57

The Book of Esther is a great story and is unique in the biblical canon: God is not named even once in the entire book. He remains in the background (as is often true in life), working his plan, bringing salvation. The Book of Esther is a story of love, sex, and political intrigue. It is one of those adventures where the clock is winding down and the reader wonders whether salvation will arrive in time.

The story takes place during the time of Israel’s exile from the Promised Land. Esther’s parents had died and she had been adopted by an older male relative named Mordecai. They were living in Persia (modern-day Iran) during the Greek and Persian wars. Just before the king went off to the wars, he and his queen had a very public breakup. After he came back (from disastrous defeat), he looked for a woman to take the queen’s place and found Esther in a 5^th century B.C. version of The Bachelorette.

Esther entered the contest (not that she had much choice in the matter), and she won. But on her adopted dad’s advice, she did not disclose her ethnicity. She was a Jew, and at the time there was a good deal of anti-Semitic feeling present in the country and even in the king’s court. The hatred of Jews was embodied in one of the King’s chief counselors, a man named Haman. Haman actually knew Mordecai (Esther’s adopted father) and hated him, but he did not know (only a very small number of people did) of Mordecai’s relationship to the new queen.

So, here’s the picture. Esther is the Jewish wife of the petulant King Xerxes, whose chief counselor Haman is a thorough-going anti-Semite. But Haman does not know that Esther is a Jew – it never occurred to him to question her ethnicity. Haman takes advantage of the anti-Jewish sentiment in the country to launch a Himmler-like Final Solution to the problem of the Jews, every bit as horrific as that of the Nazis. He works on this plan in Susa (a Persian counterpart to Camp David, the summer capital for the Persian Empire), and he gets the king to sign off on it. He then sets a date for the implementation of this final solution, which will mean death and destruction to the empire’s Jewish community.

Mordecai obtains a copy of the edict, gathers other Jews, and they fast, cry, and wail right at the Palace gates. (This would be like staging a protest on Pennsylvania Ave.) When one of the few people who knows about the connection between Esther and Mordecai tells her (shut away in the queen’s quarters in the palace harem) that her relative is dressed in sackcloth and making a scene on the street in front of the palace, she gets scared. She sends a trusted servant to him with a change of clothing. Implication: “I don’t know what you’re doing but stop it!”) Mordecai refuses.

Now to understand why things go the way they do, you need to realize that Mordecai and Esther have not spoken to one another for a long time. They can’t afford to be seen together; their relationship is a great secret. And besides that, the queen and her retinue are pretty much locked away in their luxurious quarters all the time (partly to avoid the riffraff but also to appease the king). Esther only sees other people at affairs of state. She really doesn’t know what’s going on. She doesn’t know her people are in danger of extermination. She is completely in the dark.

And Mordecai doesn’t know how much Esther knows. He imagines that she’s heard all about what’s going on and is doing nothing. So, when she sends him a change of clothes, he can only guess what she’s thinking: She wants him to remain inconspicuous, so as to avoid trouble. But that’s not what he has in mind. He is not planning to go softly into that dark night! So, through the rest of the story, keep in mind that Queen Esther and her adopted dad Mordecai have not spoken in ages, they cannot meet in person and have to conduct all their correspondence through a third person.

When Mordecai sends word to Esther concerning Haman’s plan, lots of things run through her mind. If she goes to the king, she’s going to have to reveal her ethnicity. She’s going to have to come out of the Semitic closet. What if he rejects her? When he was disappointed with his last wife, things did not go well for her. Besides that, not even the queen could enter the king’s presence unbidden. If someone presumed to go to the king without first being summoned, that person would be beheaded. That was the punishment—unless the king overruled. And who knew if he would overrule? He hadn’t called for her in a month. Maybe he was already tired of her. Maybe he was angry with her. She didn’t know.

Nevertheless, Mordecai urges her to go to the king. He frames the situation this way: You (Esther) have a decision to make. Maybe you can save your own neck, maybe not. That’s not the point. And saving everyone else is not the point either, because whether you stand up or not, God will be true to his covenant. Someone will arise to bring relief and deliverance to the Jews. God has already chosen that. You’re not making a decision about how things will turn out. We don’t get to make those kinds of decisions – they belong to God. Your decision is this: to do the thing God wants you to do or not to do it. Perhaps God brought you to this place for just this time. This is your opportunity to say yes to God. But it’s also your opportunity to say no. So, what’s it going to be?

It was decision time. Some people are so intimidated at the thought of making a wrong decision, they make no decision. (I’m an honorary member of that group.) But there is a time for making decisions. The speech that Shakespeare gives Brutus in Julius Caesar is full of wisdom, in spite of the circumstances in which it is spoken: “There is a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries.” For Esther the tide was high; the time was now. A decision needed to be made. And she made it.

These are her memorable words, as she prepares to break the royal law – an act of civil disobedience – and risk her life for a purpose greater than herself: “I will go to the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish” (Esther 4:16).

When Esther finally saw clearly what was going on (that’s insight), she made a decision (“I will go to the king, and if I perish, I perish”). But she did not perish, and so the rest of the story is about Esther implementing her decision, putting it into action.

But the truth is, she could have perished. Making right decisions does not guarantee desired outcomes. Our decision must never be to have a certain outcome, but to take a certain action – one that is in line with our insights about God, ourselves, and others. Outcomes are beyond our control, but actions are not. Outcomes are in God’s sphere of influence; actions are in ours, so we need to make ourselves responsible for our actions while leaving responsibility for outcomes to God.

That’s just the opposite of the way most people live. They make themselves responsible for outcomes, which leaves them susceptible to constant worry. They don’t make themselves responsible for actions, which leaves them ineffective and blaming others for failure. We are not responsible for how things turn out. We are responsible for what we do (or fail to do).

Spiritual growth occurs at the nexus of insight, decision, and implementation. In the next article, we will think about how to go about implementing our decisions.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Faith, Peace with God, Spiritual life | Tagged antisemitism, Book of Esther, decision making, Esther 4:16 If I perish I perish, how spiritual growth happens, King Ahasuerus, Mordecai, overcoming worry | Leave a comment

Living Backwards: 1 Peter and the Believer’s Hope

Posted on January 23, 2025 by salooper57

Watch or read this introduction to 1 Peter, focused on the believer’s hope. There is encouragement here for every follower of Jesus.

Approximate viewing time: 26 minutes.

Karen and I once watched a Star Trek: Voyager episode in which one of the principal characters awakes to find herself a wrinkled, dying woman, surrounded by a loving family she does not know. She has no memory of a past that led up to this moment. She is a woman without a past, only a present; and in that present, she is dying.

She loses consciousness and when she comes to, she is still an old woman but not as old or as ill. She has gotten younger. This happens repeatedly throughout the show and, each time she regains consciousness, she is younger than she was before. Near the end of the show, she is a child. On this backwards tour through time, she discovers more about her family, herself, and the reason this strange thing is happening to her.

Unlike the rest of the crew, she knows what the future holds, but she does not know what the past held. For the crew, the future is the great unknown. For her, it’s the past. She guides her actions by what she knows of the future; they guide theirs by what they know of the past.

I tell you this story because we are about to begin a delightful exploration of 1 Peter and I want to illustrate a biblical truth that is central to that great letter. The better, richer, fuller life God intends for his people is predicated on a knowledge of the past and the future. Jesus’s people have inside information on both.

To the degree we misunderstand our past – and all of us misunderstand our past to greater or lesser degrees – we cannot be wise in the present. And without a grasp on our future, we cannot be secure. Understanding our past gives us wisdom. Understanding our future gives us confidence.

Many people are imprisoned by their past. The abuse they suffered, the sorrows they endured, and the rejection they experienced have chained them to the kind of person they are but don’t want to be. Others are chained to the past not by its sorrows but by its successes. They’re afraid to let go and become the person God is calling them to be. The first group is filled with regrets. The second is emptied of hope.

For Christians it is different—or it should be. Their past, whether pleasant or tragic, was transformed when they were united to Jesus Christ by faith. In that miraculous moment, their story was fused to his story and what happened to him became more important to their lives than anything that has ever happened to them. Anything.

Not only that, their future was bonded to his future. If you are a Christian – and I’m not talking about the nominal Christian who has a vague belief in God and a positive opinion of Jesus, but about a person who has committed his/her life to God in the belief that Jesus is the savior of the world and the Lord of all – the most important thing in your life happened in someone else’s life. It happened to Jesus. His story is your story. His past is your past, and his future is your future. Once you grasp that, it will change your present.

Our union with Christ is a foundational truth for the New Testament writers. When you were joined to Christ by faith, his past became yours. Because this is true, you can say with the Apostle Paul, “I have been crucified with Christ” (Galatians 2:20). His future became your future: when he comes into his inheritance, you will come into yours (Romans 8:17). Not only is his past your past and his future your future, you can begin to experience his present as your present. Paul did. He could say, “For me to live is Christ” (Phil. 1:21). Again, this is not true of in-name-only Christians; it is true of those who are united to Christ through faith.

Peter’s letter is based on what God has done for us by uniting us to Jesus. His life is the fountain from which our lives spring. The Christian cannot really know himself in the present apart from knowing Christ in his past and his future.

In the past, Christ redeemed us and opened a new way of life to us (1 Peter 1:18). He bore our sins so that we could die to sin and live to righteousness (2:24). He died to bring us to God (1 Peter 3:18).

That is the past. It is writ large on the pages of Peter’s letter, but the future also plays a big role—so big that Peter mentions it on every page of his letter. Now, let me ask you: does the future occupy so large a place in your thinking? If it does not, you will be handicapped in your discipleship to Jesus. And this is true regardless of your age, whether you are 90 or 16.

When I was 16, I was a newish believer. I had been reading the Bible for a while, but I didn’t know much about it. The preaching at our church was not the most inspiring or enlightening. I was just muddling along the best I could. But I believed in Jesus and understood that my future was all wrapped up in him.

I was willing to endure – or rather, I willed to endure – so that I could experience the future God had for me. Many were the times I said to God, “Whatever it takes” (and by “whatever” I meant the worst things a teenager could imagine), “I want to be all that you can make me.” Do you see what was happening? The future was altering my present. Rather than living out of past hurts and losses, I was choosing to live into my future. You could say I was living backwards. That’s a skill that every believer needs to master.

Peter mentions the future throughout the letter. In chapter 1, he tells us that grace will be given to God’s faithful people when (1:13) Jesus Christ is revealed. This is grace that is going to transform us! In chapter 2 he speaks of the day when God will visit us (2:12). In chapter 4, he hammers home the idea that a day is coming when God will judge the world (4:5). That is not a bad thing, but neither is it an optional thing. Also in chapter 4, he points to the end of all things, which, he says, is already near (4:7), and he tells us that we will be overjoyed when the glory of Christ is revealed (4:13). In chapter 5, we read that those who are faithful in their service to him are going to share in his glory (5:1). They will receive a crown of glory when Christ appears (5:4). The body of the letter ends with Peter encouraging his readers with the reminder that God has called them to his eternal glory (5:10).

It also opens on that note. Let me read for us verses 1-4: “Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, To God’s elect, strangers in the world, scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia, who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and sprinkling by his blood: Grace and peace be yours in abundance. Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you…”

“…he has given us new birth into a living hope…” A living hope. People around us are afflicted with hopelessness. They have given up on their dreams, their jobs, their government, even their church. They have lost hope for their marriages and their children. But the living hope that is ours doesn’t die. Dr. Johnson was wrong, at least when it comes to Jesus’s people, when he said, “Men live in hope, die in despair.” The new birth allows people to live in hope and die in hope. We don’t despair. Even if our bodies die, our hope does not.

The word translated “has given us new birth” or, better, “has begotten us” (as the King James has it), refers to the conception of new life. The translation, “new birth,” suggests to us the delivery of a baby that has reached full-term but, strictly speaking, the word Peter uses refers to life in utero. Earth is a womb. This is our gestation period, the time of our development. The time of our delivery – or to use the biblical term, our deliverance – is in the glorious future God has planned for us. When Christ returns, we will be delivered.

(Just an aside here. I’ve had people say to me that they want no part of any God who refuses to let people into heaven. How, they ask, can a just – not to mention a decent – God keep someone out of heaven for eternity based on the sins committed during their brief lifetime? But these people misunderstand. Past sins won’t keep people out of heaven. If they did, there would be hope for any of us, for we have all sinned. But thank God, “Christ died for our sins and not only ours, but also for the sins of the whole world” (1 John 2:2).)

If people don’t get into heaven, it’s not because they have sinned. It’s because they have not been begotten again with the kind of life that is capable of existing in the age to come, the life that comes through a connection to Jesus Christ.

God is like a heavenly obstetrician. If a baby comes out of the womb of this age with any life at all, he will help that child enter the larger world and be happy and healthy. But if the child comes out of the womb of this age with no life – tragic as that is (and it is break-your-heart tragic) – God will not put it in the nursery with the other babies. It would do the stillborn child no good and the living ones a disservice.)

Note that this new birth is “through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead…” It is because we are united with Christ in his past – his death and resurrection – that we will be united with him in his future glory. The difference between hope and hopelessness is an empty tomb.

This new life we received when we trusted in Christ comes with hope already installed, like a computer comes with software pre-installed. Peter says that we are begotten into a living hope. Hope is part of the new life’s programming (if you will). It is hopeful in good times and bad, when the body is healthy and when it hurts, in youth and in extreme old age. Hope is inherent in this new life.

The old life – the one that Adam installed in our race – is not like that. Hopelessness is at its core. If I understand this distinction, I will know what to do when I lose hope because I will know what’s happened: I have slipped back into the old hope-deprived life, which Jesus’s people are instructed to decisively put off (Ephesians 4:22).

But how easy it is to slip back into that old life and try to live out of its strengths rather than Christ’s! I’ve done it too many times. When I realize that is what has happened, I must put off that old person once again and live out of the new by trusting in Christ.

We are begotten into hope and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade. Perish, spoil, or fade are descriptors of this age in the history of the world—but not of the next. This life is a lesson in how to lose. We lose our stuff: it rusts, its luster dims, it fails. We lose our friends: they move, they change, they die. Our own energy, mental acuity, and hearing eventually perish, spoil, and fade, and then we lose ourselves. The heart slows, brainwaves flatten, and the body perishes.

But those who have received the new birth have an inheritance that will never perish, spoil, or fade. The life energy they now have compared to the life energy they will experience in the age to come is like that of a nine-volt battery compared to a nuclear power plant. We who belong to Christ are destined (this is verse 8) for “joy inexpressible that is full of glory.” St. Augustine said that the “rapture of the saved soul will flow over into the resurrection body.” In that day, we will “drink joy from the fountain of joy” (C.S. Lewis).

Were Darwinian evolutionary theory the whole story and life on earth evolved from a single-cell organism to the advanced beings we are today over untold ages, that change would be dwarfed by the change that will happen instantaneously in the lives of the faithful when the resurrection takes place. No wonder St. Peter tells us to set our hopes fully on the grace to be given us when Jesus Christ is revealed (1:13). That’s what we’re waiting for!

If you have connected to Jesus through faith, all the most important things in your life didn’t happen in your life but in his life, which you now share. So much is this the case that the apostle can say, “Christ … is your life” (Colossians 3:4). His death is your death: He bore our sins in his own body so that we might die to sins (2:24). And his resurrection means you will be raised: “… the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus” (2 Cor. 4:14). Of course he will: we’re connected.

Do you see what this means? We have always thought that the most important thing about us – the determining factor – is that we are tall or short, ugly, or pretty, smart, or dull, married or divorced, wealthy or poor; that our dad left when we were kids, and our mom remarried an abusive guy, or we were in an accident that left us impaired. But what is far more important to us is Jesus. Through Jesus, God has changed everything. And through Jesus, God is changing us!

The Apostle Peter not only wrote about what hope can do for us; he demonstrated it. He had known for a long time that he wasn’t going to die a natural death. By the time he wrote his second letter, he knew he didn’t have long on this earth. But he also knew that his life was so connected to Jesus’s that death wasn’t going to hurt him. He was eager for the day of God. He was looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth – one that is perfect (2 Peter 3:13). The fact that he was going to die soon didn’t depress him because Jesus was his life and Jesus’s future was his future.

We are bound misunderstand ourselves if we think of ourselves apart from Jesus, and that will affect our relationships, our peace of mind, and everything about us. We won’t know why we are here. We won’t know what we are supposed to be doing. We won’t know what will content and fulfill us. Hope will come and go, but mostly go.

We’ll never find ourselves in ourselves because our life isn’t there; it is his with Christ in God (Colossians 3:3). That’s where we should look. Friends tell us to trust ourselves. Jesus tells us to trust God. Motivational speakers tell us to “dig deep,” but we’ll never find all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge there, no matter how deep we dig (Colossians 2:3). We will find them in Christ. Jesus was so right: It is only when we lose ourselves – whether we think ourselves ugly or pretty, smart or stupid, victim or hero – that we find ourselves. We find ourselves in Jesus—more alive, more loving, more joyful than we ever dared hope.

One thing remains to be said: the hopeful life, the life of wisdom, knowledge, and joy, is rarely an easy one. Hopeful, joyous St. Peter was persecuted and eventually crucified. He knew (1:6) that we would “suffer grief in all kinds of trials.” That doesn’t make hope less important but more, just as an anchor becomes more important in turbulent waters. Such trials test and purify our precious, priceless faith and prepare us for praise, glory, and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed (1:7-8). Each time our faith stands the test of such trials, our hope becomes stronger until it is finally unbreakable.

All this – so beautiful, so hopeful, so glorious – is because of Jesus, our life, our living hope.

Posted in Bible, Sermons, Spiritual life, Theology | Tagged 1 Peter 1:13, 1 Peter 1:18, 1 Peter 3:18, 1 Peter 4:5, 1 Peter 5:10, Christian hope, Ephesians 4:22, Galatians 2:20, How can a good God keep people out of heaven?, Lewis: "drink joy from the fountain of joy", living hope 1 Peter 1:3, Romans 8:17, Star Trek: Voyager, the Christian's inheritance, union with Christ | Leave a comment

Decisions, Decisions (The Role of Choice in Spiritual Formation)

Posted on January 18, 2025 by salooper57

Decisions, Decisions: The Role of Decision in Spiritual Formation

Occasionally I hear someone say something like this: “I thought I was a Christian at the time. It wasn’t until later that I realized I wasn’t.” Some people don’t know they’re not Christians until they choose not to be. Other people don’t know they’re not Christian until they choose to be. I have known people of both sorts.

Usually, this kind of thing happens because somewhere along the line the person has tacitly accepted the claims Jesus made about himself or at least the teaching of the Church about Jesus. He or she has received biblical information in a context where most of the people present believed it, and simply fell in with them. It was natural to assume what others – maybe parents or grandparents or friends – took for granted.

Photo by Miguel u00c1. Padriu00f1u00e1n on Pexels.com

The person had information – not always very accurate information – and assumed that being in possession of that information made him or her a Christian. But information alone, and even the insight that information brings, cannot in itself make a person a Christian. There must also be a decision.

In last week’s article, I wrote that spiritual growth follows a path of insight, decision, and implementation. I examined the role that insight plays: where it comes from, how it can be delayed, and what we must do with it. Now it is necessary to think further about how the choices we make impact our progress in spiritual formation.

The prophet Joel cries out, “Multitudes, multitudes in the valley of decision!” (Joel 3:14). That’s pretty much where we live – in the valley of decision. God has so ordered things that any advance in the spiritual life requires us to make a decision.

But this needs to be put in context. If you research the subject of choice and decision-making in the Bible, you will find that a great deal of what the biblical writers said on the subject refers to choices that God makes. We assume it’s all about us, that our choice is all that matters, but that is not the case. His choices precede ours in time and importance. Yet his choices do not render ours void. Just the opposite: his choices make ours possible and even necessary.

There is no spiritual growth apart from choice. That’s the way God designed it. He has endowed us with astonishing dignity: our decisions mean something; they make a real difference. As does our failure to decide.

We see the importance of decision-making again and again in the Bible. It starts in the Garden, where Adam and Eve have a choice to make. God knows they will need to make a decision if they are ever to grow as people. Apart from decision, there is no growth. And we know that their future (and ours) hinges on the decision they make.

In Deuteronomy 30, the importance of choice is highlighted in a big way. Moses stands before the people of God – already God’s people because of the choice he made – and tells them they have a choice to make too: “This day I call heaven and earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life…” (Exodus 30:19). God does not say, “It doesn’t matter what you choose. I’m going to do what I’m going to do.” Rather he says, “Your decision is a matter of life and death.”

Throughout the Bible we see these two interdependent truths: God makes decisions and we make decisions. His decisions do not render ours pointless; they render them indispensable. And so, throughout the Scriptures we find the call to decision: “…choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve” (Joshua 24:15); “How long will you waver between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow him! If Baal is God, follow him!” (1 Kings 18:21). We are presented with choices: “You cannot serve God and money,” (Matthew 6:24). And the most important decision of all: “What shall I do … with Jesus who is called Christ?” (Matthew 27:22)

(Next week, will look at a famous biblical example of tough decision-making.)

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Faith, Spiritual life, Theology | Tagged 1 Kings 18 Elijah and Baal, Cannot serve God and money, Exodus 30 now choose life, Joel 3:4 The valley of decision, Joshua 24:15 Choose you this day, role of decision in spiritual growth, what the Bible says about choice | Leave a comment

The Big Picture (John 1:1-14)

Posted on January 14, 2025 by salooper57

Our family has a game called Cranium that is filled with brainteasers, including one called Zooma, where the object is to identify everyday objects from an extremely close-up photograph. When you look at a close-up of a flower petal magnified fifty time, it is really hard to tell what you are looking at.

When it comes to the Christmas story, we can zoom in so tightly on certain events that we miss the big picture. We get so close to Mary and Joseph, the shepherds, and the Magi that we can’t see anything beyond them.

So, today, we are going to zoom out to a much wider angle. Instead of magnifying parts of the story, we are going to try to get a panoramic view of the whole. It’s not that the birth of the Child isn’t beautiful and instructive—it is. But a big problem with Christmas in America is that we insist on keeping Christ in the manger. We don’t want him to grow up. We are touched by a baby wrapped in swaddling and lying in a manger, but we would rather not be tapped by the Lord of heaven and earth to do his will. That is a different story. We prefer the one that keeps the baby tucked quietly in a manger.

I say, “That is a different story,” but it’s not. It is the same story. If you pan out from the Baby in the manger you will find the Savior on the cross. The Christmas Child that people are so ready to adore is also the Man that people were so ready to crucify. The manger and the cross are different chapters in the same story.

Today, we are going to attach our widest-angle lens. We are panning way out, beyond Bethlehem, even beyond Calvary. We are telescoping through time to the very beginning. Today we will see worlds bursting into being, and suns exploding with light. We’ll see Creation, with its immensity of space and its unplumbed depths of time, form; and it is dizzying.

And yet it is still the same story. We see the one who already was before the worlds began; we see the one who was born a helpless baby to a homeless family; we see the one who died the horrible death of the condemned. And he is the same person. He is there in the Beginning. He is there in the manger. He is there on the cross. But he is not, by the mercy of God, still there in the tomb. He is on the throne, and the story continues.

We are in John chapter 1. Before we drill down into this passage, I want to make a couple of preparatory remarks. First, this is a remarkably important passage. Whenever someone asks my opinion of a new Bible version, I look first at the opening verses of John 1. They are the touchstone of a translation’s integrity.

Second, this is a theologically rich and complex passage. It is profound and sublime, and my expository skills cannot do it justice. When I preach this passage, I know that I am out of my depth. I’m afraid we may all feel out of our depth this morning, but I won’t leave us floundering. We’ll get back to solid ground.

Third, it is good to keep in mind that John used great care in choosing words that would communicate to two very different cultures. There is no question that he is speaking to the Jewish world of Law and prophets. The text betrays Semitic sentence structures and makes numerous allusions to Old Testament themes. John, for example, intended his opening line to remind Jewish readers of the first book of the Hebrew Scriptures. The Bible’s very first words read: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”

But John’s choice of terminology is also meant to evoke ideas familiar to Greek readers. For example, he uses the term “The Word” three times in the first verse and then again in the fourteenth verse. It is a term that even then was rich in history and brimming with meaning. It was used by the philosopher Heraclitus almost six centuries earlier, to describe the wisdom that steers the worlds.^[1] Then the Stoic philosophers took it up and used it to denote the Divine Reason that is behind the existence of all things. Like John, they taught that something called The Word brought creation into being. A Greek reader would recognize these terms and feel right at home in the prologue to this Gospel.

Look at verse 1: “In the beginning was the Word.” John intentionally did not say, “From the beginning was the Word,” but “In the beginning.” He was also careful in the verb tense he chose: the imperfect tense, which is far less common than the aorist, present, and prefect tenses. It conveys this idea: “In the beginning, the Word already was.”^[2] John’s wording is intended to prevent us from doing just what some groups have done: Suggest that this Word was a created thing. John is telling us that the word predated Creation. The Word was already there in the beginning.

John wants his reader to understand how important this Word is: “The Word,” he writes, “was with God.” His choice of terms is, once again, intentional and precise. He uses the Greek word, pros, which is very dynamic. It intimates a face-to-face relationship. If in Greek I wanted to say, “I brought the book with me,” I would use the preposition para, which would suggest proximity, not relationship. But if I wanted to say, “Our sons are with us for the holidays,” I would use the word John chose. It connotes relationship.

At this point, both Jewish and Greek readers could nod in agreement. The Word was “in beginning” and it was “with God.” They could buy that. But the next phrase upsets the apple cart for both Jews and Greeks. “And the Word was God.”

It is important to remember the author of these words was fiercely monotheistic. He believed in one God, and one God only. Monotheism was the fundamental tenet of John’s faith. It was the foundation of Jewish belief, and yet John applies the term God to the One he calls the Word.^[3]

Now the same group that says that the Word was a created being has trouble with this part of the verse, too. They say, “Wait a minute. The Greek says, ‘The Word was a god,’ not ‘the Word was God.’” They will tell you that the article in Greek is missing from the noun “God,” making it indefinite.

What they won’t tell you is that in New Testament Greek the article is routinely missing when a definite noun precedes the verb, as it does here. It is called “Coleman’s Rule.” They are trying to make the Bible fit their theology, not their theology fit the Bible. John is saying that this Word relates to God (which implies some kind of distinction) but also that the Word is God (which speaks of unity).

If you’re treading water right now, or are sinking into the depths of sleep, here is a lifeline to sum up the first part of our text. There is a being John calls “the Word” that has always been with God. And though John can speak of the Word being with God, he can also say the Word was God.

In verse 3, he goes further: “Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.” The word made here has the idea of something “coming into being.” Everything that came into being, came into being through the Word. It is a tenet of Jewish belief that God himself is the Creator of the world. Here we read that the Word that was with God, that is God, that is God’s Word, brought everything that exists into being.

If I am clever, I can entertain people when I speak. If I am accurate, I can convey information. If I am pedantic (like this morning), I can put people to sleep. But when God speaks the Word, life comes into being. When he speaks, suns blaze and planets twirl, and oceans swarm with creatures; dinosaurs romp, birds sing, and dogs howl at the moon. When he speaks, people think and laugh and love. My word, your word, is a poor, thin, anemic thing. His Word is robust and teems with life. When he speaks, the dead spring to life and things that are not come into being.

The one that John has been calling The Word is the source of life in the universe: “In him,” verse 4, “was life, and that life was the light of men.” The life that comes from the Word gives direction, purpose, understanding – it is light – the light we so desperately need to make sense of the world and of ourselves. That light, John writes in verse 5, “shines.” Notice the change of tense here. It is intentional. Every verb before verse five points to the past. But in verse 5 we learn that the life-giving Word is still shining. It shines even now.

Verses 6 through 8 are a parenthesis introducing John the Baptist. In verse 9, the author comes back to the light that emanates from The Word. That light was coming, he says, into the world. Not just shining on the world, as the Divine Reason might, guiding humanity from afar; it was coming into the world.

Now look at verse 10: “He” – that is, the Word, the true Light, the being that was with God and was God, through whom all things came to be – “was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him.”

Perhaps it is not surprising that the world did not recognize him – the world is a big place. But he came, verse 11, to that which was his own, and even his own did not receive him. The words, “that which was his own” are sometimes used idiomatically to refer to one’s home. For example, when Jesus was hanging on the cross, he gave the care of his mother over to the apostle John who, we read, “From that time… took her into his home.”^[4] The words, “his home” are exactly the words we have here in verse 11. “He came to his home, but even the folks at home did not receive him.”

The word receive is an important one. John uses it again in chapter 14, where Jesus says, “I will come again and take you to be with me, that you also may be where I am.” Or, literally, “I will come again and receive you unto myself.”

If you were a first-time reader of this Gospel living in the first century, you might think, “Hang on a minute. The Word, this being that was with God at the beginning, that was God, through whom everything that exists came into being, supposedly came into the world and people did not recognize it or accept it. When did this Word come into the world? How did it come into the world?”

Our first century reader might not know, but we do. John is talking about Christmas. About the birth of a Baby. For the remarkable news is that the WORD of God, that is God and with God is also God with us. “The Word,” verse 14, “became flesh and made his dwelling among us.”

The WORD, the Divine Reason, the Creative Power, the Source of life, the Light of men became flesh! The word translated, “made his dwelling” is literally, “he tented” among us. John chose this unusual word to evoke a memory among Jewish readers. The word he uses is the Greek word for Tabernacle; the Tabernacle was where Israel worshiped God for centuries. The Tabernacle housed the holy place and the Holy of Holies, where God revealed himself to his people. At that time, when people wanted to meet God, they went to the Tabernacle. But now that the Word has become flesh and tabernacled among us, if we want to meet God, we must go to the Word, in whom God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell (Colossians 1:19).

But has anyone ever seen the Word, the Creative power of the universe, the expression of the mind of God, the Fountain of life, and the light of men? Yes, they have. Outcast shepherds saw him. Pagan astronomers saw him. Well, has anyone heard this Word? Oh, yes. His mother for one, and more than a few others. What did he say? What wisdom did he offer? What mysterious words of power did he speak? Well, he didn’t exactly say anything at first. He cried. Cried like a baby. The Word that brought all things into being cried because he was hungry. The Word, the Divine Reason that steers the planets and stars, cried because he needed his diaper changed. Here is the wonder of Christmas. Look at it and be awed: “The WORD became flesh and made his dwelling among us.”

The eternal, omnipotent, creating, sustaining Word is now a human: Jesus of Nazareth. Ancient Jewish teachers – the kind of people who might have read John’s gospel when it was first written – vigorously argued with the Gentiles that humans never can and never will become God. With that, we agree. But it never occurred to them that God might become human! And not just human, but a baby, a crying, hungry, helpless baby!

Did you notice the connections between our passage and the Christmas narratives in the other Gospels? Both have a light that shines and gives guidance to men. Here, in verse 10, people who should have known their Creator failed to recognize him. In the Christmas story, the scholars who knew all about the prophecies concerning the Messiah did not know him when he came.

In verse 11, his own did not receive him. In the Christmas story, Joseph brings his new bride to Bethlehem, where his extended family lived. By custom, they should have welcomed their wayfaring cousin into their homes and, under normal circumstances, they would have done so. But they did not receive Joseph because his bride carried this Child. His own received him not.

Yet there were some who received him. There was his Mother, Joseph, an old man named Simeon, and an old woman named Anna. There were outcast shepherds and foreign astronomers. Not everyone refused to receive him. Verse 12, “Yet to all who received him…”

Now let’s wind this up. John says that “To all who received him, to those who believed in his name (that is, who trusted in him, had confidence in him), he gave the right to become children of God.” A few moments ago, I mentioned that John uses the Greek word for receive again in chapter 14. There, Jesus says, “Trust in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms – if it were not so I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you, and if I go, I will come again to receive you to myself.”

If we refuse to receive Jesus – if we will not take him to be with us in our homes, our hearts, and our lives – it is sheer presumption to expect Jesus to receive us into his Father’s house. If we don’t want to be with him for a short time here, what makes us think that we would want to be with him for an eternity there? This bears thoughtful reflection.

This morning, we have been looking at Jesus’s story through a wide-angle lens. Perhaps we need to use that same lens to look at our own stories. We spend our brief time on life’s stage in close-ups: today’s needs, yesterday’s hurts, tomorrow’s requirements. But if we were to pan out, we would see the parents and grandparents and ancestors who came before us and shaped our lives. We would see the children and grandchildren who come after us, over whose lives we will have profound impact. We would see our births and, if we dared, our deaths. We would see moments we have enjoyed and moment we have regretted. We would see times when we responded to God as he spoke through Bible, conscience, or preacher. We would also see times we ignored God. We would see ourselves, beyond death, standing before God the Judge, face to ineffable face.

Just as you can only see Christ aright by panning out, from before the cradle to beyond the grave, so you can only see yourself aright by panning out. This is you: God’s creation, belonging to him, redeemed by him and for him, and responsible to him. From that wide angle, can you see yourself in the past receiving the Word made flesh, Jesus, the Son of God? If not, what about in the present? Will you take Jesus as your Lord and Savior today?

^[1] Leon Morris, Expository Reflections on the Gospel of John (Grand Rapids: Baker)

^[2] Cf. Barclay’s translation

^[3] Morris, Leon. The Gospel According to John, The new International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdman’s, 1971. p. 78)

^[4] John 19:26

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Christmas, Sermons, Theology | Tagged incarnation, Is Jesus God?, John 1:1, John 1:11, John 1:14, John 1:4, Prologue to the Gospel of John, receive Jesus, theology, What the Bible is about, Word became flesh | Leave a comment

The Path to Spiritual Growth: Insight, Decision, and Implementation

Posted on January 11, 2025 by salooper57

Spiritual growth occurs at the nexus of insight, decision and implementation. We are tempted to think that a person with spiritual insight is special, but that is simply untrue. God gives light and we look. That’s all that insight requires. Yet, even that is difficult if we have trained ourselves not to look. Some people, according to John’s Gospel, prefer to stay in the dark.

Even if we don’t choose darkness, we might like the half-light best. It offers enough light to make our way but not enough to reveal our sins. When God does send light, our gut reaction may be to head for cover, but it is essential that we stay in the light, allow our eyes to adjust to it, and see what it shows us.

When God begins working in our lives (and that’s not really a good way to put it, since he was working on our behalf before we were born), we often don’t recognize what is happening; our eyes have not yet adjusted to the light. But God continues working and waiting for the day when we are capable – when we are big enough, when there is finally enough of us – to respond.

One day when I was 12-years-old, I was playing football in our side yard with boys from around the neighborhood. As the game was winding down, one of the guys ran to the store across the street. He came back moments later with candy he stole off the shelf. This bold exploit elevated him to stardom in our group, and he dared all the rest of us to go to the store and steal something, like he did. Anyone who didn’t do it, would be labeled a coward.

Most of the guys headed across the street, but I just stood there, thinking. That moment did not feel the least bit spiritual, but I could see that what they were doing was wrong. It was a mean thing to do to the old couple who owned the store, whom I’d known all my life. That was the extent of my insight. Nothing profound, but true nonetheless. And I made a decision based on that insight: I chose not to go along with the guys, though I knew it would diminish my standing among the group.

Looking back, I believe that decision and the insight that preceded it were important to my entire spiritual development. God was at work, shining light into the life of a 12-year-old boy, though I certainly didn’t know it then. In heaven, we will be aware of many such times – personal and profound – each a fresh occasion for giving thanks to our Father for working in our lives even when we didn’t know it or appreciate it.

When God shined light on the Pharisee Saul (Acts 9:1-19), he knew it; it knocked him off his feet (or perhaps, his mule). But this was not the first time God has shined light on the obstinate Pharisee. Saul was there when light shone from the martyr Stephen, when “his face was like that of an angel.” Saul had seen Stephen ask God to forgive the men – Saul was one of them – who were killing him.

I suspect Saul could not get away from what he saw. It stuck with him, entering his thoughts unbidden, invading his dreams. Insight was coming, bringing with it a moment of decision—a moment Saul did not want to face.

Saul kept pushing forward, but the ground was slipping from under him. I suspect that his heart faltered from time to time, but the forward motion of his fear and anger carried him on. He was being goaded in a direction he didn’t want to go, and he stubbornly kicked against the goads (Acts 26:14). Saul was running from the God he proudly claimed to serve.

The thing about running from God is that he’s everywhere. When you think you’re running from him, you’re really running to him. There is only one place you can be safe from Him, a place he designed as a refuge for those who refuse the light and hate the Light-Giver. Jesus called it “the outer darkness.” It is the only place you can be safe from God. Ironically, it is the only place you can be safe from salvation. It is not, however, a place where you can be safe from yourself and your sins.

Saul’s flight from the light brought him to the Light-Giver. He came, unwillingly it seems, face to face with the insight he had tried so hard to avoid. It was preceded, as insight always is, by revelation. The revelation that came to Saul on the Damascus Road was this: Jesus is Lord.

I can imagine something in Saul’s head saying, “No. Not that. Not … Jesus.” And then, deeper down, “Oh, I knew it.” This was revelation, not insight. Revelation has to do with what is; insight has to do with what it means. The revelation is God’s part. The insight is Saul’s—and ours.

Saul spent the next three days helpless and blind, with nothing to do but think. The man that wouldn’t stop running could not walk out of the house without help. Unable to see out, he was forced to see in. He reviewed his life – his work, his success, and his reputation – in the light of the revelation that Jesus is Lord, and he saw what that meant. This was his insight, and he later wrote about it in Philippians 3.

When the revelation that Jesus is Lord comes to us, it is just as much a miracle as it was when it came to Saul. Like him, we will either dare to look at what that means or we will turn toward darkness. This revelation (that Jesus is Lord), and the insight that follows, has the power to change us into the people we were always meant to be.

But revelation, even when coupled with insight, was not enough to change the Pharisee Saul into the Apostle Paul, nor is it enough to change me into the joyful and glorious man God had in mind when he made me. Insight must be followed by decision, and decision by implementation. Where these three exist together, spiritual change and growth will be abundant.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Spiritual life | Tagged Acts 26:14, Acts 9:1-19, How people grow spiritually, John 3:19-21, outer darkness scripture, Paul's conversion, Philippians 3::1-10 | Leave a comment

Star Trek: The Voyage of the Magi Caravan

Posted on January 6, 2025 by salooper57

For Epiphany

We could title the text just read for us, Star Trek: The Prequel. This is the voyage of the Magi caravan. Its extended mission was to travel to the land of the Jews, honor and reverence that people’s newly-born king, and then return to star-base Babylon.

The magi (or wise men in the King James) were a tribal group from modern-day Iran and Iraq. The Persian King Cyrus conquered their tribe, and when they mounted a coup against his grandson Darius, their political ambitions were crushed. The magi show up on the pages of history half a millennium before Christ, and some scholars see references to magi in much older documents. In the fifth century B.C., the Greek historian Herodotus described the magi as a Persian tribe with priestly duties. Apparently, their role was similar to that of the tribe of Levi in Israel.

The magi appear in the New Testament in our text, and individual Magians (or magicians, which is our English way of saying it) appear twice in Acts. There are also passages in the Old Testament that point to the magi. In the prophet Jeremiah there is a reference to the Babylonian conquest of Jerusalem that seems to refer to the chief of the magi. Then later, in the book of Daniel, there are numerous passages that refer to wise men, at least some of whom may have been magi. These wise men were probably Zoroastrian priests who specialized in studying the stars and making astrologically-based predictions. Very complete charts of the movements of the planets and stars were kept in Babylon from at least the 8^th century B.C.

Interestingly, after Daniel won the favor of the Babylonian king in the sixth century, he was given a position of authority over (guess who?) the magi. Daniel 2:48 says that he was placed in charge of all Babylon’s wise men. Daniel 4:9 calls him the chief of the magicians. Daniel 5:11 says that “King Nebuchadnezzar … appointed [Daniel] chief of the magicians, enchanters, astrologers and diviners.”

Do you see what this means? Hundreds of years before the birth of Jesus, God used the disaster of the fall of Jerusalem and the exile of its citizens to bring a young Jewish man to the attention of a Babylonian king, who placed him in authority over of all his wise men and astrologers (his magi).

Daniel served for many years as the chief of the wise men. It is possible that he instructed them in the words of the God of Israel? Did he teach them the ancient prophecy that “A star will come out of Jacob; a scepter will rise out of Israel” (Numbers 24:17)? Did he tell them that “From the issuing of the decree to restore and rebuild Jerusalem until the Anointed One, the ruler, comes, there will be seven ‘sevens,’ and sixty-two ‘sevens’” (Daniel 9:25).

If he did (as I think likely), the magi in our text may have seen the star because they were looking for it, and they might have been looking for it since the time of Daniel. And, interestingly, when the first century rolled around, it seems like they weren’t the only ones looking. The first century Roman historian Suetonius writes that “There had spread over all the Orient and old and established belief, that it was fated at that time for men coming from Judea to rule the world.” Another first century historian, Tacitus, writes that “there was a firm persuasion… that at this very time the East would grow powerful, and rulers from Judea would acquire universal power.” The seed of that firm persuasion and established belief may have been planted by Daniel almost six hundred years earlier among the magi in Babylon.

We cannot know for sure, but it would be just like God to set his plan in motion dozens of generations before it was to come to fruition. I say dozens, but that doesn’t go far enough. The star the Magi saw must have been part of God’s plan from the beginning of time. Remember the magi had been watching the stars for centuries and had kept very careful star charts and astronomical records. That’s what they were doing when they saw something in the sky that astonished and excited them, something they took to be the birth announcement of the king who was to come out of Judea.

No one knows for sure what the Magi saw, but that hasn’t stopped people from guessing. One theory is that they interpreted the alignment of Saturn (which was thought to have a special relationship with Israel) and Jupiter, the king of the planets, as proof that Israel’s king had been born. A recent scholar believes they saw a comet because one was seen in the sky around the time of Jesus’s birth. He believes that it first became visible in the constellation Virgo (the Virgin), and that’s what convinced the Magi that a king had been born. He’s plugged his calculations into a star chart and found that the comet would have moved from east to south in just such a way as described in Matthew.

Whichever is true, or if something else is true, think about the brilliance of God. He can create an astrological phenomenon at the beginning of time, if he chooses, so that in the fullness of time, it could lead a caravan of seekers to Bethlehem and introduce them to his Son.

And consider this too. When God spoke about his Son to these magi from the east, he did it in a way that they could understand. He used the language of astral ascensions and declinations. God knows how to communicate; he speaks to people in their own language. He comes to us where we are, in ways we can understand.

The magi saw the star in its rising, and they were as excited as modern scientists were when they found proof for the existence of the Higgs boson particle. They wanted to follow their research and see the child born king with their own eyes. But in that day (as in this), following the research required funding and, perhaps, permission from the authorities. It would have taken time to assemble a team, put together a caravan and raise the money necessary to skirt 1700 miles of desert. When the magi had worked out all the details, they set out for Jerusalem.

Why Jerusalem? Because it was the capital city of Judea. King Herod had a palace there, and they naturally assumed that the newborn king would be the son of the reigning king. But this was – quite literally – a fatal mistake. They came to Jerusalem (in a caravan big enough to attract lots of attention) and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews?” Or, literally, “Where is the born king of the Jews?”

Even the way they phrased the question drew attention – and concern. The reigning King, Herod, was not a “born king”; he was made king by the Roman Senate after leading a successful military campaign on their behalf. He wasn’t even Jewish – at least his ancestry was half-Idumean. He was always afraid that someone would take his throne. He was so paranoid he had his own wife, his mother-in-law and three of his sons executed at various times because he thought they might be planning a coup.

When Herod heard that there was a born king in his dominion, a shock like lightning must have gone through him. Even then, he didn’t lose his composure or his cunning. He called the magi to him secretly and questioned them closely about the time when they first saw the star. It’s clear he was planning to do to this new king what he had done to his own sons, but he was careful not to let the magi know it. He needed the location of his rival, who could be anywhere. Herod didn’t know the Scriptures – he had no use for them – but he knew who did.

So, he called together the chief priests and teachers of the law and asked them where the Davidic king of prophecy was to be born. They didn’t have to think twice. They knew right away what the Bible said. “In Bethlehem, the city of David,” they said. For Micah the prophet had written, “But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for out of you will come a ruler who will be the shepherd of my people Israel.”

So, Herod sent the Magi to Bethlehem and ordered them to make a careful search – he didn’t want any mistakes. With long-practiced duplicity, he said, “Once you’ve found him, let me know where he is, because I must go and reverence him too.”

They set off for Bethlehem in the evening or early nighttime. It was only a few miles, and they hoped to conclude their search before the night was over. And that’s when they saw their “star” (or comet, or whatever it was). It seems that they hadn’t seen it for a while. Perhaps the skies had been cloudy, or the star (or comet) had been hidden from sight by the sun’s glare or the moon’s obstruction, and only became visible again as they approached Bethlehem. When they saw it, they were overjoyed.

When the magi arrived in Jerusalem, they expected to find the city celebrating. They expected pomp and ceremony. They didn’t know what to expect in Bethlehem. They found a little house where a simple tradesman lived with his young wife and small child.

The magi opened their gifts – gold, frankincense and myrrh – and paid reverence to the Child. Did they understand that this Child was Daniel’s anointed one? Did they realize that this was the one whose goings forth were from of old, and on whose shoulders the future of the world would rest? We don’t know how much they understood – perhaps more than we give them credit for – but whatever they understood, give them credit for this: they acted on what they knew.

Others who knew far more did far less. Remember that Herod called the chief priests and the teachers of the law together to ask them the birthplace of the long-awaited Messiah. And those scholars knew the answer. They also knew (with the rest of Jerusalem) that a caravan of magi had come. They knew that the magi believed that Israel’s king, who’s coming had been prophesied in their Scriptures and whose reign had been anticipated for generations, had been born. They even knew where the long-awaited king’s birth was prophesied to take place.

And yet, while the magi (pagans from another land who worshiped other gods) traveled hundreds and hundreds of miles to greet Israel’s king, these religious leaders and scholars didn’t bother to travel 6 miles. Someone has said that taking Jesus for granted is not the sin of pagans but of religious folk and Bible teachers.[1]

Verse 11 says, “On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh.” The scene must have been surreal. A caravan outside their door, foreign men in strange attire, speaking in unfamiliar accents. Joseph and Mary, alarmed, not knowing what to expect; the magi, surprised, and wondering what a king was doing in a place like this; and the neighbors, gossiping about it all for weeks. Then, in an oddly dreamlike moment, these strange men in their strange clothes got down on their knees before the young child, presented him gifts of great value, and worshiped him.

Those gifts would prove enormously helpful. When the Magi did not return to Herod with the exact location of the born king, the paranoid king sent his troops to kill every male child in the vicinity. Critics have accused Matthew of making this part up for dramatic effect, but it is entirely consistent with what we know of Herod. When his young brother-in-law was becoming too popular, he had a mysterious “drowning accident.” It happened in a shallow pool. After some of his officials were accused of misconduct, Herod had them beaten to death, only to find out later that the accusations were false. He ordered one of his sons executed just five days before his own death. When it became clear to him that his death was imminent, he dispatched troops to round up seventy of Jerusalem’s best-loved citizens, had them taken to the hippodrome and held there. He ordered his troops to execute every last one of them at the moment of his death because, he said, he wanted there to be tears, and he knew no one would cry for him. A man like that would not balk at killing a few (or even many) children in and around Bethlehem.

Let’s think about what this passage has to say to us today. First, it makes clear that we can never tell how people will respond to the news about Jesus. In our text, the people we would expect to receive him (the chief priests and teachers of the law) ignored him. The people we would expect to ignore him (pagan astrologers from the other side of the desert) crossed barren lands at great cost to find and worship him.

And don’t miss the fact that God sent the message of his Son to people who worshiped other gods, believed in astrology, and practiced a religion we think mistaken. God, in other words, is a missionary. I’ve had people say to me, “We shouldn’t be spending so much money overseas when the need here is just as great.” There is no denying the need is great, but we already have a missionary presence here – you and me. Many people here, like the chief priests and teachers of the law, really aren’t interested in hearing about Jesus, while some people there are dying to know him.

A few years ago, I heard a former member of the Palestinian Liberation Organization, and a one-time assassin for Yasser Arafat, share his story. When someone told him that he could know God and find forgiveness in Jesus, it caught this terrorist completely off-guard. A man you would never expect to show interest, gave his life to Christ and was transformed. That’s why we go to the ends of the earth. And it’s also why we should tell people in our own backyard (family members, friends and even enemies) about Jesus. You never know who will respond to the Good News.

Our text also shows us that God loves people who hold beliefs that are different than ours. We’ve just endured another terrorist attack from a Muslim extremist. When this has happened previously, there has been an outbreak of retaliatory violence against Muslims. God hates such acts. A person can do violence to a Muslim in the name of hatred and fear, but never in the name of Jesus Christ. Putting an end to Muslims is not our goal, despite what a prominent (and repulsive) Christian leader said a few years ago. Putting a savior before them is.

People who belong to other religions are not the enemy. Abraham did not treat his Canaanite neighbors as enemies. King David was closely allied with the king of Tyre, even though he belonged to a different religion. God sent Jonah to rescue the people of Nineveh, though they did not acknowledge him. When Paul went to Ephesus, the world center of Artemis worship, he didn’t see its citizens as enemies but as people loved and desired by God. Our enemies are not people who belong to other religions, but the rulers, authorities, and powers of this dark world and the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms (Ephesians 6:12). We mustn’t forget that.

Our text also warns us of the danger of taking Christ for granted, as the chief priests and teachers of the law did. Matthew has a particular interest in those two groups: he mentions them each more than twenty times. This is the first time he links them together – when they are living next door to Christ the king but don’t bother to acknowledge him. They exposit the Scriptures about him, but they don’t act on them.

The last time Matthew links the chief priests and teacher of the law together is – can you guess? – when they were conspiring (Herod-like) to get rid of Jesus. Taking anyone for granted – parent, spouse, child, even, and especially, the Christ of God – is the soil in which hostility and rejection grow. This generation of chief priests and teachers of the law took the Messiah for granted. The next took him to the cross. If we take Jesus for granted, and I’m afraid millions of professing Christians have, what will our children do?

Finally, this text calls us to wonder at the grace of God and be awed by it. I said earlier that God knows how to speak our language. In Star Trek lingo, he has a universal translator. (Or, more accurately, he is a universal translator.) He spoke, for example, to magi in the language of the stars. But the greatest example of God speaking our language is this: the divine Word became flesh, lived among us and translated God for us. He helped us comprehend grace and truth. He made visible the invisible God. And he did it in a way we could understand. He spoke our language. And it was all because “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in his should not perish but have everlasting life.” Let us respond to the love of God.

[1] Craig Keener, op. cit.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Sermons, Theology | Tagged Christianity, Christmas, Epiphany, Herod the Great, Jesus, Magi, What was the star of Bethlehem? | Leave a comment

The World Is Too Much in Us

Posted on January 4, 2025 by salooper57

“The world is too much with us; late and soon, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.” William Wordsworth wrote that in 1802. By “world” I assume he meant something similar to what St. John had in mind when he exhorted his readers not to love the world – a world comprised of the “lusts of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life.”

If Wordsworth thought the world was intrusive at the turn of the 19^th century, what would he (or St. John) say now in this time of continuous advertisements, outsized corporate ambitions, and persuasive social media influencers? It impinges on us every waking hour. It screams for our attention and, if we ignore it even for a moment, warns us of the danger of missing out.

It is not only the social world that presses on us. The physical world does too, all day, every day. One can think of human beings – empiricists do it all the time – as astonishingly complex sensors, recording inputs through touch, hearing, taste, sight, and smell. Additionally, the entire human body – and not just its sense organs – maintains a nearly constant sense of where it is in relation to its surroundings. This is the sixth sense, known as proprioception. To be human is to process millions of data points daily through our sensory inputs.

So, how can we, being human, have any attention left over for spiritual pursuits? How can we hear God speak in “a still, small voice” when our ears are being assaulted by the washing machine, the baby’s cries, and the incessant dinging of text alerts?

After writing a book on hearing God and developing a conversational relationship with him, Dallas Willard said in the epilogue, “I am still painfully aware of the one great barrier that might hinder some people’s efforts to make such a life their own. That barrier is what Henry Churchill King many years ago called ‘the seeming unreality of the spiritual life.’ We could equally well speak of it as ‘the overwhelming presence of the visible world.’”

Willard goes on to say that the “visible world daily bludgeons us with its things and events… Few people arise in the morning as hungry for God as they are for cornflakes or toast and eggs.” The visible world “bludgeons us,” while the spiritual world “whispers at us ever so gently.”

The terms “visible world” and “spiritual world” are not strictly biblical, but the idea is close to what St. Paul had in mind when he said, “…we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen,” and then, a few paragraphs later, adds, “We walk by faith, not by sight.”

The conflict between faith and sight is one of resource sharing. When my computer’s direct memory access controller competes with the express root port for the same memory address, something is going to lose out. Something similar happens when my ability to hear God’s voice and my addiction to the Legion voice of media compete for my limited attention: one will lose out.

Most of our resources are gobbled up by the visible, noisy world. It is simply more demanding than the spiritual world. It “is too much with us” for us to ignore it—Goliath to the spiritual world’s David.

Then why, if God wants us to be spiritual, does he allow this confounded inequality? But this question is misleading. It is not that God wants us to be spiritual; we already are. He wants us to “walk by the Spirit,” and that will not happen because the spiritual world becomes more intrusive but because we have made the choice to trust him and to listen for his “still, small voice.”

As Willard reminds us, “[N]either God nor the human mind and heart are visible. It is so with all truly personal reality. ‘No one has ever seen the Father,’ Jesus reminds us. And while you know more about your own mind and heart than you could ever say, little to none of it was learned through sensory perception. God and the self accordingly meet in the invisible world because they are invisible by nature.”

But meeting in the invisible world remains a choice, a choice based on faith: confidence that God is there and wants to meet with us. Another way of saying that is, “that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.”

I think Wordsworth was wrong. The world is not too much with us. We are too much with the world, and that will only change if we choose it.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Faith, Spiritual life, Theology | Tagged Becoming more spiritual, Dallas Willard, hearing God speak, John 1:18, sensitivity to God, still small voice, William Wordsworth's "The World Is Too Much with Us" | Leave a comment

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The Way Home

Time for a Change

The Process of Spiritual Formation: Implementation

Proof of Faith (I Peter 1:6-9)

Stop Worrying About What Will Happen: Start Thinking About What You Will Do

Living Backwards: 1 Peter and the Believer’s Hope

Decisions, Decisions (The Role of Choice in Spiritual Formation)

The Big Picture (John 1:1-14)

The Path to Spiritual Growth: Insight, Decision, and Implementation

Star Trek: The Voyage of the Magi Caravan

The World Is Too Much in Us

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