Sunday, September 6, 2015

Sufferers, Wait for God

Garrett Gilkey post:  The Promise of God in Threatening Pain

We live in a society that is petrified of suffering. Each day starts with a thousand moments of flinching at pain — at our alarm clocks, at the shower’s cold water, at missed emails that threaten loss and tragedy. We resent suffering, and what it could mean for us. Job bewails that suffering looms with the shadow divine disappointment: “I become afraid of all my suffering, for I know you will not hold me innocent” (Job 9:28).
Last night, I bolted onto the football field to face the Miami Dolphins. I was eager, surging with life, energy, and strength. It was the last preseason game of my third season in the NFL. The ball snapped, and with a snap of his fingers, God mercifully showed me how small and weak I am compared to his grand and glorious sovereignty over all creation.
As I was hit from the side in my knee, I felt the pop, fell to the ground in excruciating pain, and knew my year was over before it had even begun.
In the NFL, it’s easy to publicly thank God when we win, when we are victors, when we feel like gods. I want to take the opportunity to thank God when I am afraid — I want to thank him for three things:
  1. his promise to care for me in the midst of threatening pain;
  2. his meaning, which he spins out of the thread of suffering; and
  3. his joy, which resonates most beautifully when superficial pleasures fade.

God’s Sovereign Care

A few wrong angles, and I was hit, falling to the ground in pain. All of a sudden, five people ran out to me. My flesh and Satan would have me believe a thousand stories in that moment. “You’re done.” “You’re worthless.” “You’re going to lose everything.” “You can’t keep up.” “You’re pathetic.” But the more real story echoed through my heart. As I lay on the field, God’s Spirit through the word whispered in my ear, “We know that for those who love God all things work together for good” (Romans 8:28).
That verse was a promise to me. God works all things together for good. It was like the Holy Spirit was repeating it in my heart, over and over again, with each surge of pain through my knee, “For those who love me, I work all things together for good.” God cares for his people. We can’t bank on prosperity-gospel promises. They can’t stand the test of God’s curse over the world. But God promises to care for us better than any worldly shepherd.
When we trust in the richest powers of the world, God says through Jeremiah, “All your lovers have forgotten you; they care nothing for you” (Jeremiah 30:14). But God still works to move the gospel into our lives through people who delight in Christ: “I will set shepherds over them who will care for them, and they shall fear no more, nor be dismayed, neither shall any be missing, declares the LORD” (Jeremiah 23:4).
“Neither shall any be missing.” Not even me. Not even when I fail. Not even when I have nothing to offer. “Declares the Lord.” It’s his decree: Garrett shall not be left outside his care. Praise Jesus.

God’s Meaning-Making Sovereignty

In that moment of pain, I had a strange “peace of God that surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7). I had heartfelt assurance that everything was going to be okay. But I was assured of something more important:
This season of suffering, this injury, is a gift.
Not only was I reminded of Romans 8:28, that all things work for good, but also that what happened was a gift in so many ways. Suffering is always another opportunity for God to be glorified, and for his satisfying gospel to be made known. King David holds the two in clear tension: “The Lord upholds all who are falling and raises up all who are bowed down. . . . You open your hand; you satisfy the desire of every living thing” (Psalm 145:1416). David isn’t saying that God will never let us suffer. He is saying that God fulfills the longing which our suffering brings to the surface.
God makes meaning out of our suffering, because he is sufficient in it. Through suffering, I see in my own heart these desires given to the throne. That’s God’s biggest gift in suffering — to have something taken away from you, and still find joy. A family member. A job. An idol. God satisfies us, not in spite of our unwanted circumstances, but in and through them.

God’s Joy Deeper Than Worldly Pleasures

How does God satisfy us in suffering? Through joy.
If God’s existence has ever been affirmed to me, it has been affirmed in suffering. Like we said above, when God gives us peace, it is peace that transcends understanding. But when God gives us joy, it is “that I may know the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings, being conformed to his death, in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead” (Philippians 3:10). The suffering that we experience with Christ is not the searing pain of a physical experience. It is the emotional pain of suffocating our parasitic idols — the labor pains of joy.
Our natural inclination is to experience fear. Our hearts by instinct respond to suffering with fear, frustration, and questioning God’s sovereignty.
That’s what God is already showing me in this and through this. He is not only showing me peace, but delight and joy. It’s a gift, and it shows me the joy of an intimate and loving and compassionate God.

Sufferers, Wait for God

Return with me to Job. We saw him in Job 9, on the ropes, getting beaten up, wondering whether God was the one wearing the gloves. But James called him steadfast. That’s an odd description for Job. How was Job steadfast? He hung in there long enough to joyfully rest in God’s love for him. “Behold, we consider those blessed who remained steadfast. You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful” (James 5:11).
Sufferers, wait for God. More than that — wait with me for him. Let’s see what the Lord’s purpose is for us, the one who is compassionate and merciful to his sheep whom he will not forget.

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

The Lord As Our Ultimate Treasure

Bethany Jenkins: How Shall We Live?

1 Corinthians 7:31
(From now on let) those who deal with the world live as though they had no dealings with it. For the present form of this world is passing away. 
Each of us has only one life. This is it. Our time is valuable and our face-to-face meeting with the Lord is imminent and real. As Paul writes, “The appointed time has grown very short … For the present form of this world is passing away.”

How shall we live?

Mourn as Though We are Not Mourning
We mourn. We are sad over great losses – e.g., family, friends, health, dreams. Yet we mourn as though we are not mourning because we know that we cannot lose our ultimate treasure – Christ’s love. Thus, our losses don’t destroy us. We say, “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Our losses are modest. We lose now, but win in eternity.

We rejoice. We take joy in the thousands of good gifts from God. Beautiful weather. Great food and friends. Art and music. Yet we know that these things cannot satisfy our souls. Only Christ can. Even our present fellowship with him is a mere foretaste: “Now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face.” Thus, our joys are modest. They give us tastes of what is to come.

We buy things. We don’t withdraw from commerce. Yet business doesn’t possess us. We don’t love money. Our cars, homes, e-readers, iPhones – we hold them loosely. If they are taken, we sense that they were never really ours because Christ is more valuable than anything money can buy. We’re not here on earth to own things; we’re here to lay up treasures in heaven.

Deal With The World as Though We Have No Dealings With It
We engage with the world. We don’t avoid it or approach it with spiritual dichotomies. Yet we don’t ascribe final greatness to it. We know that there are unseen things that are vastly more precious than the world. We work with all our hearts, but our full passions belong to the heavenly kingdom.

Prayer
Lord, our lives are short and precious. Let us, therefore, live in death’s inevitability so that we mourn and rejoice and buy and engage as though we are not mourning or rejoicing or buying or engaging. Grow us deep in you as our ultimate treasure. Amen.

Thou Art Good and Doest Good

John Piper: George Muller Did Not Have the Gift of Faith - Thankfully

George Müller (1805–1898) provided for thousands of orphans by means of the “faith principle” — which meant he would look to God and never directly ask another person for money. Nor did he ever borrow money — for anything. He was renown for peaceful trust in God’s provision, even when a deadline loomed and food was short.
On this faith principle, he raised £110,000 to build five orphan houses that accommodated 2,050 orphans. In his lifetime he cared for 10,024 orphans. By his example, he inspired others to embrace orphan care, including Charles Spurgeon, who said, “The God who answers by orphanages, let him be Lord!”

It Was Not the Gift of Faith

Nevertheless, Müller was adamant that he did not have the gift of faith. What did he mean, and why should we be thankful?
Think not, dear reader, that I have the gift of faith, that is, that gift of which we read in 1 Cor. xii. 9, and which is mentioned along with “the gifts of healing,” “the working of miracles,” “prophecy,” and that on that account I am able to trust in the Lord.
It is true that the faith, which I am enabled to exercise, is altogether God’s own gift; it is true that He alone supports it, and that He alone can increase it; it is true that, moment by moment, I depend upon Him for it, and that, if I were only one moment left to myself, my faith would utterly fail; but it is not true that my faith is that gift of faith which is spoken of in 1 Cor. xii. 9. (Narrative, Vol. 1, 302)
He emphasized this point because he meant for the world to see that God keeps the promises of Scripture for those who trust him. If he had a special gift of faith that God does not expect all to have, then one of Müller’s great aims would have been thwarted. He believed he was setting a biblical example for all of us:
All believers are called upon, in the simple confidence of faith, to cast all their burdens upon Him, to trust in him for everything, and not only to make every thing a subject of prayer, but to expect answers to their petitions which they have asked according to His will, and in the name of the Lord Jesus. (302)

The Difference Between Grace and Gift

What’s the difference between this amazing faith (which Müller called the “grace of faith”) and the “gift of faith” in 1 Corinthians 12:7–9, which says, “To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. For to one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit”?
Here is Müller’s answer:
The difference between the gift and the grace of faith seems to me this. According to the gift of faith I am able to do a thing, or believe that a thing will come to pass, the not doing of which, or the not believing of which would not be sin; according to the grace of faith I am able to do a thing, or believe that a thing will come to pass, respecting which I have the word of God as the ground to rest upon, and, therefore, the not doing it, or the not believing it would be sin.
For instance, the gift of faith would be needed, to believe that a sick person should be restored again though there is no human probability: for there is no promise to that effect; the grace of faith is needed to believe that the Lord will give me the necessaries of life, if I first seek the kingdom of God and His righteousness: for there is a promise to that effect. Matt. 6:33. (Narrative, Vol. 1, 65)
This response is enormously important. It means every Christian is expected to trust God to fulfill all the explicit promises made to the church in the Bible. It would be sin not to believe them. But it is not sin not to believe God will do a thing that is not explicitly promised in the Bible — like heal his wife, Mary.

Prayed for Her Healing, Preached at Her Funeral

So how did he trust God when he prayed for his wife’s healing when he heard that she had rheumatic fever? Would he have the “gift of faith” for her? No he would not. But he did have faith as he prayed — great faith. He took hold of a promise in the Bible and he believed it. Here is how he described that faith:
The last portion of scripture which I read to my precious wife was this: “The Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord will give grace and glory. No good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly” [Psalm 84:11]. . . . I said to myself, with regard to the latter part, “no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly” — I am in myself a poor, worthless sinner, but I have been saved by the blood of Christ; and I do not live in sin, I walk uprightly before God. Therefore, if it is really good for me, my darling wife will be raised up again; sick as she is. God will restore her again. But if she is not restored again, then it would not be a good thing for me. And so my heart was at rest. I was satisfied with God. And all this springs, as I have often said before, from taking God at his word, believing what he says. (Narrative, Vol. 2, 745)
She died February 6, 1870. Müller was 64. He never wavered in his faith. He preached at her funeral from Psalm 119:68, “Thou art good and doest good.” He recounted how he preached to himself as she was dying: “If God pleases to take my dearest wife, it will be good, like Himself. What I have to do, as His child, is to be satisfied with what my Father does, that I may glorify Him” (Narrative, Vol. 2, 399).
This response means that Müller’s faith for the orphans was the same kind of faith as he had for his wife. If it is good that the orphans have eggs for breakfast, Müller’s prayer for eggs will be granted. But if not, Müller will assume his prayer has been answered in a way that is better than eggs. Eggs may fail. God never fails. For eggs have not been promised.
What has been promised in the Bible is “the necessaries of life.” “Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things [food, drink, clothing] will be added to you” (Matthew 6:33). God knows how much food, drink, and clothing are “necessary” for us — just like he knew what was “good” for Mary and for Müller himself. She died.

Whatever I Ask?

But, we ask, does not God promise in the Bible that everything we trust God for will be given? And wouldn’t that mean, on Müller’s understanding of the grace of faith, that it would be sin if we failed to trust God to give us everything we asked for? That is, in fact, how the “word of faith” (name it and claim it) healers understand Scripture. Müller did not see it that way.
But why not? In Mark 11:24 Jesus says, “Whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” So, yes, it’s true that there is no specific promise in the Bible that his wife Mary would be healed. But there is a promise that “whatever you ask” would be granted, if you believe. Isn’t Mary’s healing included in the “whatever”?
Müller would say no. He always said that the prayer we can believe God for must be “according to God’s will” — meaning God’s sovereign will — what he, in fact, wills to do. As it says in 1 John 5:14–15, “This is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us. And if we know that he hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests that we have asked of him.”
Notice that John says, “whatever we ask” (the same words Jesus uses in Mark 11:24), but he has already limited the asking to things that accord with God’s will. So the word “whatever” is not absolute. It’s limited by the context. Similarly, the context of Mark 11:24 limits the word “whatever” as Jesus used it.
The very next verse (Mark 11:25) assumes that “whatever you ask” has limits. Jesus says, “And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.” Which clearly implies that you will not be granted answers to your prayer for forgiveness, if you are an unforgiving person (see also Matthew 6:14–15). “Whatever” does not include good things that God intends to withhold — like forgiveness from the unforgiving.
How would Müller define the “whatever” of Mark 11:24? I think he would say, “It means believe God implicitly and without doubting for whatever he has promised in his word.” This perspective alone is so radical as to make you utterly different from the world. You will not be anxious. You will not be bitter with disappointments. You will know that he will withhold from you no good thing as you walk uprightly (Psalm 84:11). He will always do what is good for you as you love him (Romans 8:28). He will always provide every need you have (Philippians 4:19). Müller really believed these promises. God was pleased and answered.
He meant for his life to be an example for us. It was. Lord, grant that this grace of faith would be our ever-growing portion.

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Mustard Seed Vision of the Kingdom

Tony Reinke post:  Truth in the Age of Cynicism

“The age of anxiety has given way to the age of cynicism,” recently wrote 30-year-old composer Mohammed Fairouz. “Among my generation, cynicism is no longer a bad word: it’s being celebrated, and often it’s mistaken for intelligence.”
During World War II, martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer had harsher things to say about cynicism. Writing from a Nazi prison he described the cynic as one who claims to tell the truth in all places, and at all times, and to every person, but in reality he is just a consistent liar. The cynic wears a halo as “a zealot for truth” but he ends up destroying reality. He “desecrates the mystery, breaks trust, betrays the community in which he lives, and smiles arrogantly over the havoc he has wrought and over the human weakness that ‘can’t bear the truth.’”
Cynics, Bonhoeffer concluded, “feed on hatred against the real — against the world created and loved by God” (Works, 16:604–605).
With the destructive force of cynicism on the soul and on communities, and with the rise of cynicism today, you would think the church would say a lot about it. It hasn’t.
Enter Mark Meynell.
Mark Meynell serves with Langham Partnership as Associate Director for Europe carrying out the vision of its founder, John Stott, to equip preachers around the world. For nine years Meynell was on the senior ministry team of All Souls Langham Place in London. And he is the author of a new book, A Wilderness of Mirrors: Trusting Again in a Cynical World, published by Zondervan.
I recently talked with him about cynicism — what it is, what it does, and how it’s defeated in our lives.
Mark, thank you for your time. First off, what is cynicism? How would you define it?
While we could take an academic or philosophical approach (and I do at points in the book), I’m more concerned with cynicism as a kind of cultural mood. So perhaps it’s easiest to see it in relation to suspicion.
Suspicion is the natural result of having your fingers burned by something or someone. If I can make a generalization, I think our contemporary culture of suspicion derives largely from abuses of power. If you’ve been the victim of that (whether by the state, the corporation, the community, or even the church), it’s no wonder you sense threats in other, similar circumstances. I’ve got huge sympathy for that.
There are all kinds of contexts where we ought to be suspicious. But cynicism is corrosive, and perhaps contagious. When suspicion hardens into a cynicism we cannot trust again. It is a fixed attitude — jaundiced and bitter perhaps — but devastatingly understandable in our world.
So the cynic and the Christian both hold a deep distrust of humankind. Fundamentally, what distinguishes their distrust?
It seems to me that modern people have no viable escape from the vortex of distrust — twentieth century history relentlessly confronts us with how corruptible and low we can become (even in so-called civilized and educated societies).
So ironically, the challenge for preachers today is not so much to prove sin — a doctrine Chesterton suggested was the only one that ‘can really be proved’ — but the exact opposite! How do we convince a student of history or biology or criminology that human beings are nevertheless made in God’s image? Sin distorts and damages this image, but doesn’t destroy it. Because unless we do, the ethics questions of the beginning and the end of life, let alone global population, will never acknowledge intrinsic value in the individual.
In contrast, because we have the double foundation of being created by God in his image, and being rescued in Christ, we know that our value is founded on bedrock. No one can sink too low for God. That is why (as I say in the book) “suspicion is legitimate, but cynicism is not the last word.” No one has been so hardened by sin that they cannot be transformed by grace. That’s the key difference — and the only hope, ultimately, for a cynical world.
So we need great care to offer the Bible’s positive as well as negative features of human anthropology — created in God’s image, rebels from God’s trustworthy authority, rescued and restored by Christ’s kingdom victory.
That’s so key, thank you. One pastor has written, “cynicism is the god of the thinking person.” In Ecclesiastes, he said, Solomon battled the gods of money, sex, and power, “but the one that came the nearest to owning his soul was cynicism. . . . Cynicism is the temple to which we finally come after stopovers at the houses of all the other gods. It is the temple at the end of ‘temple row.’” Do you agree? And, if so, where is cynicism in the pantheon of cultural gods?
That is a very fair point, and of huge importance — though I’m not sure I’d go so far as saying it’s the heart of all idolatries. Certainly cynicism can be a convenient justification for idolatry. It can enable me to cast off all the shackles, like its cousin, rebellious doubt. I make that distinction because it is vital to show that there are some very normal (and perhaps even necessary) forms of doubt — such as when we suffer or struggle to understand something, or when we face pain in life. I have certainly gone through many times like this.
But the understandable hardness that comes from getting burned by others breeds a self-sufficiency that comes horribly close to the introverted autonomy that is the very definition of sin. Not only that, it can invert what is valuable, good, and beautiful in God’s world, and call it the opposite — as happened when the Lord Jesus was accused of being Satanic (Luke 11:15).
So we have to take real care here. Cynicism that results from the abuse of power can easily become a cynicism that itself abuses power. Victims so easily become culprits if and when they manage to seize the helm. On a personal scale, we saw it at school perhaps: The bullied new kids became even worse bullies once they reached the top of the school. Or on the macro scale, you can see it in geopolitical history and in contemporary identity politics. This shift might be completely unthinking and unacknowledged, or it could be driven by a hunger for revenge (perhaps even in the name of ‘justice’). Either way, isn’t this just one reason why we should both take victims seriously and stem the tide of glorifying victimhood?
That is a fascinating point you make more fully in the book. So how do we confront the quiet cynicism that can slowly erode local churches — whether it be an erosion of pastoral authority or of trust from our community?
Perhaps we need to start by asking whether or not that root suspicion is legitimate. So often the answer (tragically) is yes. Churches are not automatically “power-abuse-free-zones,” but they ought to be — they must be!
After all, this is why Jesus called his followers to exercise authority in ways fundamentally different from the world around them. In contrast to the Gentile rulers who ‘lord it over’ others, Jesus says four tiny (and radical) words: “not so with you” (Matthew 20:26).
Jesus’s alternative is servanthood. No, that seems far too polite! Jesus calls for voluntary slavery, giving up my rights for the sake of another — and all out of love, even when they’re not lovable. Isn’t this why his followers are called to take up the cross? It’s simply because he did.
So we must face up to this problem. Enquirers don’t seem to ask first if Christianity is true, but if church is safe. What will happen if I join up? Will they take all my money? Abuse my children? Steal my individuality? Institutionalized religion (to some) is just a cult on a grander scale. This makes the not so with you ever more urgent.
The local church is not a group of perfect people clubbing together to congratulate themselves on their spiritual achievements. It is a gathering of broken and vulnerable people who have tasted grace and who now offer grace. And that can only begin to happen if those who lead it recognize their own dependence on grace.
There’s no quick fix for this, though. You can’t do this with a six-week course. It will take more than a five-point plan to generate a community that is safe for the broken and sinful. But that will cause much of American and European Christianity to stumble, because quite frankly, it owes more to Wall Street and Madison Avenue growth models than God’s mustard seed kingdom model. The walking wounded need time to regain reasons to trust. Only grace challenges cynicism. But that takes time.
Left unchecked, cynicism is a joy-killer in the Christian life. How can we escape it?
In the end, I come back to the only escape route from cynicism: Jesus himself. He really is the answer! But not perhaps for reasons we immediately appreciate. It is because he shows that (uniquely in human history) he can be trusted — trusted with absolute power. We see him granted this by God in Daniel 7.
But see what he does with his power? Jesus washes smelly feet and substitutes himself for sinners. People ever since have rightfully adored him for it. What joy it is to know him! To be loved by this King!
King Jesus is key to times of disappointment and pain, especially when prayers seem to bounce off the ceiling. Trusting God in the darkness may seem impossibly remote. But when we see Jesus, we see God’s character at street view. Would he forget, exploit, or abuse those under his wing?
Ultimately, because our King is completely trustworthy, we can find joy in a world run by powers and politicians that are not trustworthy. Christian joy is not stifled when confronted with the reality of human leaders who fail.
On this point, it has been a rough summer for Evangelicals in America. Our Supreme Court legalized (so-called) same-sex marriage in all 50 states. And then followed brutal videos of Planned Parenthood, exposing the organization for selling aborted baby body parts for profit. And PP is government funded — I am supporting them! There’s a lot to be cynical about in America right now, not least of which the highest court in our country. What do Christians lose by becoming cultural cynics?
I really sense that — but for a European onlooker, it’s not hugely surprising. This is part of the oxygen we have been breathing this side of the pond for a while. And we should never forget that in the post-Enlightenment West, the numerical (if not spiritual) strength of the American Church is the anomaly, not the rapid secularizing of public life. But it’s true, the nations on either side of the North Atlantic seem to be locked in some kind of crazy, accelerating race to be the most radical!
Christians, especially, must take care to avoid a partisan cynicism (if I can put it like that). We love them/us binaries, don’t we? The White Stetson versus the Black Hat gang!
But the Bible reminds us that sin is not exclusive to any group or ideology — nor is being made in God’s image. After all, the devil has perfect theology and he rejects it! We are all made in God’s image and we are all broken sinners in need of grace.
Perhaps the only way to reach our cynical cultures is for the church to recapture that mustard seed vision of the kingdom — small, weak, unimpressive perhaps, as we present the truth of grace. Full of sacrificial love. It’s not that we stop being concerned for truth — far from it! — but that we give as much attention to how power operates among us as we do for how truth can be spread beyond us.
So what’s at stake if the church becomes culturally cynical? I think we fail to offer the non-Christian cynics around us the solid hope of Christ.
Amen. Christ is key to liberating sinners from cynicism. What role does the return of Christ play in defeating cynicism in our hearts now?
Christ’s return is the key to perseverance!
I taught for four years in a small interdenominational seminary in Uganda — and a large proportion of our students were refugees from surrounding countries. If you think being an African refugee in Europe or North America is bad, consider how defenseless they are in Africa. I listened speechless to heartbreaking stories and was caught up in another truly terrible sequence of events (which I briefly recount in the book). So having witnessed some terrible injustices while living in East Africa, which will never find redress in this world, I have learned why so many of our non-Western sisters and brothers are holding out for Christ’s return.
Absolute power in the safest of hands will bring restoration and restitution on that Great Day of Justice. That’s why every tear will be wiped away and why mourning will be turned to laughter.
Only God can do that.
Amen. Come Lord Jesus! Thank you, Mark.
That was author Mark Meynell. Check out his book, A Wilderness of Mirrors: Trusting Again in a Cynical World, newly released by Zondervan.