Sincerely - The Ancient Way

Now to our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen. Greet every saint in Christ Jesus. The brethren who are with me greet you. All the saints greet you, but especially those who are of Caesar’s household. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen. (Philippians 4:20-23, NKJV).

Having explored in some detail the Apostle Paul's letter to the Philippians in these last 42 studies, it is astounding to think that the epistle was actually written nearly 2000 years ago, and yet, is as applicable now (and in some instances, more so) as it was then.

Relevance is hard to come by today. Life moves so fast and changes so rapidly that virtually instant obsolescence, rather than lasting relevance, is the norm. Relevance that spans 20 centuries is supernatural. 

Although the style and means of personal communication have gone through countless modifications since the 1st Century, mechanically improving as time passes, there are many aspects of this type of letter-writing that have sadly been lost through progress. One of them, is the typical salutation that Paul employed to graciously bring his epistles to a close - the ancient equivalent of our modern day Sincerely or Regards.

Much can be gained from studying the apostle's characteristic written farewells. For instance, he almost never fails to provide a final benediction to Christ and the Father, reminding his audience one last time about Whom they believe in and Whom he serves. Usually, he also offers a simple prayer requesting that his readers be granted the grace and peace made abundantly available through the death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ, in perfect accord with the purposes of the Father. Thus, even in his final sentences he encourages, exhorts and reminds the readers about what is eternally important - their life in Christ lived out in a world filled with darkness that will one day be replaced by His righteous Kingdom.

The phrase, Now to our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen., is a perfect example of the succinct doctrinal and spiritual encouragements embodied in his closings. To the Jewish members of the early church, he highlights the miraculous change in the relationship between Sovereign Almighty God and lowly creature. Through faith in Christ, the Eternal is now both God and Father, an intimacy unthinkable under the ancient Jewish religious and cultural practices. To the polytheistic Gentile, his message transforms the Creator from an erratic mythical god or goddess in an ever-expanding hierarchy of imagined deities patterned after sinful man, to a single divine and transcendent Ruler who has power over all Creation, and Who is everlasting and unchanging - certainly a relief from the insanity of the likes of the Greek or Roman Pantheons. And to ancient mystics who imagined God to be an impersonal conception of All That Is, Paul emphasizes His essential Personhood and Identity. All this in just a few simple, yet profound words.

With Greet every saint in Christ Jesus., Paul reaffirms the importance and meaning of believing in the Savior. To be a saint, a "called out one", a person needs to be in Christ Jesus, evoking a relationship so intimate as to be described as one of being in Him. This requirement is first and foremost. Without it, no amount of good works, natural or supernatural, qualifies for sainthood. With that preeminent requirement met, all other saintliness flows as naturally as water down a mountainside; as does the unbreakable fellowship that endues the otherwise merely human act of greeting with unending significance.

The brethren who are with me greet you. All the saints greet you, but especially those who are of Caesar’s household., takes this indescribably profound family relationship with other Christians in close proximity and expands it exponentially across all time and space. We who are in Christ today are bound inextricably and joyfully with all those who have ever been in Christ, or who will ever be in Christ throughout all epochs, past and future, and in all locations. A human heart indwelt by Christ knows no boundaries or limitations. Membership, belonging, and citizenship are all part of the glorious package. No one is too insignificant or important. No place is too large, small, near or far. We are all one in Him.

No gift of God is more amazing than His limitless grace, poured out abundantly through His Son. So the apostle's endearing supplication for The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all., is both loving and in itself, gracious. And it has rightly been said that God's grace is His unmerited favor, on the other end of the divine spectrum from His mercy. For mercy is not receiving what we are justly due as violators of His perfect will and law. Grace is the metaphysical opposite. It is being the undeserving recipient of that which we most emphatically are not due, like His everlasting kindness toward us and eternal life in Christ.

And finally, Amen. This is an ancient Hebraicism transliterated into the ancient Greek of the New Testament. From man's perspective it means let it be so, or as You command, referring to God. From His perspective, it is a declaration of unchangeable assurance - it will be so! It amounts to a divine oath, an omnipotent guarantee.

We must see then, that all the inspired writing of the New Testament has eternal and profound relevance. How could it be otherwise?

The God of the Universe, who is absolute truth, has provided us lovingly with His words of love and grace and mercy and redemption…. and judgment.

What could possibly be more relevant?

Sufficiency

And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:19, NKJV).

In the post-modern, post-Christian, relativistic West today, insufficiency, inadequacy, insecurity and indecision abound.

Anchor-less, nations, governments and societies are adrift in a sea of uncertainty precisely because cultural leaders, educators, information media, and opinion makers operate under the mistaken conclusion that there are no absolutes.

Aside from the logical inconsistency of this philosophical position (it is clearly self-defeating, as the proponents of this view are ABSOLUTELY certain that all values and moral judgments are relative), it is a viewpoint and mode of operation that is inherently vacillating.  If everything is relative, then what is enough? Or good enough? What is need versus want? What is anything, really?

The Apostle Paul never fell prey to the pitfalls of moral or cultural relativism. No true, well-schooled Christian ever should, since we have the single, authoritative guide to all morality and truth, the Word of God. Because of this, it was possible for him to write the verse above without the slightest equivocation or qualification.

It is worth a moment to consider how his statement in verse 19 fits perfectly with one of the overarching themes of the book Philippians; the sufficiency of Christ in a believer's life.

Php 1:6 being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ;

There is no hint of equivocation or condition. If the good work in you has begun (being conformed into the image of God's Son), it will be completed.

Php 1:21 For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.

Again, no maybe's or qualifications. There is no down-side to being in Christ, no matter what the outcome from the limited human perspective.

Php 2:13 for it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure.

Salvation is a work of infallible, almighty God, not fallible and pathetic man.

Php 4:6 Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God;

This is a command, not a suggestion. Anxiety is prolonged uncertainty based on lack of assurance and knowledge. We know Whom we serve and Who saved us. He does not make mistakes, and He works all things together for good. If you live out this belief, anxiety makes no sense.

Php 4:7 and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

Christian absolutes lead to unsurpassed peace. Being in Christ is the only true place of rest. There is no rest for the unbeliever. There can't be. How much security or wealth or health or success or prestige or power or time is enough? How long will it last? What can be done about the universe of uncontrollable what-ifs? All the human-devised safeguards in the world will not suffice to ensure anything completely, or for long. And certainly, not for eternity, which is the unspoken cry of all human hearts - to have something last FOREVER; for good things to NEVER END. Nothing but Christ can satisfy.

Php 4:13 I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

A declaration of unfailing empowerment. Notice, he doesn't write some or most things, but all things that Christ calls upon you to do, He will strengthen you to do or endure. Where God guides, God provides. And all this leading up to the climactic promise:

Php 4:19 And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.

Of course the problem we run into here is distinguishing between what we want from what we really need. The truth is that only He knows.

Our job is merely to trust in the One who loves us and sent His Son to die so that we could live. FOREVER.

Dead Man With the King… Part 2

"What is it you would like from Me?" He asked.

"You have already given and done all," I answered through my tears.

He smiled at that in what seemed like genuine approval, but how does a mere creature accurately read the face of his Creator?

"You know," He said, "I became a Man, not just to die for you, but so that you could also know Me, and by knowing Me, know My Father."

"But there is nothing left for You to give," I said, overwhelmed that He was speaking to me!

"I delight to give My children the desires of their heart," He said simply. "Do not think that there is an end to My grace. I made you for Me. I know you and have gone to great lengths to enable you to believe that I love you."

Then suddenly I was back in the birthing room with my wife just before our first daughter was born all those years ago. She was our first, and I did not know Him at that time, or believe that He existed or cared for me. Incredibly, I had not really wanted this beautiful and precious child in our lives, so blatant was my selfishness. And I considered my wife to be in great debt to me by my agreeing to allow this to occur. Knowing He was with Me now in reliving this experience filled me with unfathomable shame. How could He have been so kind, even then?

Then I saw her emerge into the world from her mother's womb and all cynical speech and thought fled from me and I stared in awe at this miracle of new human life. I did not know it, but tears were flowing down my face, perhaps for the first time in my adult life while sober, and I literally could not speak. Everything I thought I knew and believed became as nothing, and I have since come to know that the overflowing and surprising love that I felt for my infant daughter at the very moment of her birth was His gift to me, as much as she herself was. It was Him all along, and I did not know it.

That same evening, right there in that same room, this new gift of life stopped breathing for the briefest of instants, and when that occurred my whole existence dropped out from under me like a bottomless pit had opened up in the earth below me, to swallow me forever.

This too was His gift.

Frenzied but purposeful action by the attending midwife brought my baby back to life without any permanent harm within seconds, but the lesson of unbearable loss was seared into my heart and mind, and from that moment onward, my self-confidence and my ability to cope with the vulnerabilities of this life began to crumble.

Days, weeks and months passed in my memory once more, but this time I knew He was with Me, right next to Me, as, of course, He had been at the time, as well. I just did not know it. I saw my younger self wallow increasingly in self-pity, striving diligently to deny that anything had changed, when everything had, in fact, changed irrevocably, and I was rapidly deteriorating.

Together we saw me turn in desperation and utter selfishness back to the depths of the well of alcohol, in rigid and brittle moderation at first, but with the sure and certain knowledge that it was a path that this time would inevitably lead me to destruction, and to the loss of the very things I could not even admit were important to me for fear that I would lose them. Lose her.

He stood with me, as my delusion of competence and my ability to cope with life collapsed like the fragile and ephemeral hallucination it was, and I became the epitome of quiet desperation, casting frantically about for some life preserver, becoming harder on the outside, as the man I was inside dissolved in the fierce acid of overwhelming fear.

Yet another of His gifts.

Stubbornly, inexcusably, I resisted the growing conviction that I could not continue in this way for long without having all semblance of living ability ripped away in an avalanche of self-pity and defeat.

Then we saw my wife, grieved beyond words that this child she loved so much would have to be given into the hands of others to be cared for during the day so that she could return to work, as I so intractably insisted she do as soon as possible. And by His grace, she sought comfort and strength from the only place where they could be found, His love letter to Creation - His marvelous Word.

He comforted her and brought her to Him, so gently, so effectively, so extravagantly lovingly, that she changed fundamentally right before my eyes, and through Him, loved me more despite my utter self-centeredness and self-absorption.

His gifts kept coming inexorably, like wave after wave upon the shore, unstoppable, undeniable, completely undeserved.

Until, at the appointed time, he brought me to the end of myself, and into His all-encompassing arms.

Dead Man With the King

Since becoming a child of the King years ago on-planet, I always thought that when I got to Heaven, I would have a million questions. I was wrong.

Looking at Him now, being with Him now, I knew the answer to all my questions, save one.

Except for that one exception, the answer to everything else was Him.

It's not that I felt my curiosity suppressed in the slightest. That was not it at all. It was that my curiosity was instantly satisfied. In His presence, all the why's and how's and what-if's were either embodied in His purposes and immediately revealed, or rendered irrelevant.

I can't explain how I obtained that depth of information exactly, but I suspect it had something to do with that first look into His eyes. It seemed I almost saw from their vantage point, and while most of what I glimpsed without really realizing it at the time was beyond magnificent, there were some things that, upon just a moment's reflection, were unspeakably hideous.

For one thing, I saw myself before He remade me in His image. I was like a disgusting, parasitic worm, slavishly, compulsively, seeking my own poisoned satisfaction, unable and unwilling to look beyond my own doomed and deathly priorities. Whatever else I was, my essential nature was that of a being bloated with self at the expense of everything and everyone else.

That is who He went to the Cross to save, and that knowledge was more than I could bear for more than a mere moment without collapsing in utter shame and measureless gratitude. No, I could not contemplate that answer for long at all.

But there was much more. I understood now in wordless comprehension the depth and loving brilliance of the whole history of Redemption, from before the foundation of the world, stretching endlessly into eternity.

I saw with near perfect clarity God's mercy in sending His Son to take away the sin of the world, a planet full of parasitic and blindly, ruthlessly, self-absorbed sinners in rebellion against all that is good and godly; just like me.

I saw the heartache and death-agonies of the Son as, out of infinite love and filial obedience, He willingly fulfilled the majestic and holy purposes of the godhead in being that once-for-all propitiation for the Father's righteous wrath against our willful ignorance and merciless evil.

I felt the overwhelming grace in His withholding final judgment until all who would be saved came to the place of brokenness and repentance in order to gain the right to be citizens of His glorious and everlasting Kingdom.

He gave me all the understanding that my puny, finite mind could contain about His long-suffering heartbreak over the pain, sorrow and death of life apart from Him, endured only because His ultimate purposes for each one of His children were worth all of existence to achieve.

But the one question remained. It was this: How long O Lord until the consummation of all these things? How many more evil days must pass until the vile hatred, deceit, and perfidy of Fallen Life came to its well-deserved and long-forestalled end?

It was not a question tinged at all with accusation, or tainted by the unspoken thought that His timing and judgment were anything less than divine and perfect. No, it was the plaintive whine of a trusting child weary of a long and arduous journey that seemed to be taking so unbearably long. It was the tired complaint of a little one who just wanted, with all his heart, mind and soul, to be Home.

"We are almost there," He responded, knowing my question. "For just a little while more, until the time is fulfilled, and I will come to bring you to Me, so that where I am, you will be also. Forevermore."

That gentle answer to the cry of my heart, spoken by that Voice that brought all Existence into being, and yet so intimately knowing of me, brought an endless flow of tears of love and gratitude to my eyes. 

Of course! my very soul cried out wordlessly. He is the Answer to all questions. He is the Purpose behind all things. He is Wisdom and Strength and Power and Glory and Blessing and Honor forever and ever! He does all things well!

And He knows me by name.

And He has called me to Him and made me know His Voice.

Not because of anything about me, but because of who He is.

Dead Man Worshiping

I turned and saw His long, flowing brilliantly white robe girded across the chest with solid, almost transparent gold. I could look no further as all else faded from view.

How can I put into words what it is to see even this much of the One by whom, and for whom, are all things? How to describe the immanence of He who is before all things and in whom all things consist? Before there was time or space or causality there was Him. Before sight or sound, before thought or whisper of words, there was Him. And it was He who stood before me with a shining countenance of purest holiness. He who is the Source of all beauty and nobility and strength and royalty and wisdom was utterly and completely there.

I was face to face with the Lion of the Tribe of Judah, the Lamb Slain Before the Foundation of the World, The Beginning and The End, The Word of God.

And all this flashed through my mind in the twinkling of an eye and I was immediately overwhelmed by His glory.

Like all mankind before, me I fell on my face as if dead, such was the terrible beauty of the Lord of Lord and King of Kings.

To lift my head for even a split second was an impossibly irreverent thought. The impulse to do so died before being formed, and I trembled from every aspect of my being, feeling that I would vibrate apart by the sheer majesty of His Presence.

"Stand, my Son." He commanded gently.

I obeyed, but kept my eyes lowered. Suddenly, all of the incredible vividness of the Heavenly out lands, all the indescribable beauty of this Place, paled in comparison to Him.

"You are indeed upon Holy Ground, Dead Man, but fear not. I have made you clean. I have washed you in My blood, and what I have cleansed, you must not call common!"

"Lift your eyes, and see Me! It is what you have asked. It is your heart's desire. I have heard your prayer."

His Voice thundered as at the Dawn of Creation, like the sound of many waters, like an ancient trumpet that blasted throughout all existence.

It was all I could do to comply. His head and hair were white like wool, as white as snow, and His eyes like a flame of fire; His feet were like fine brass, as if refined in a furnace, and I fell on my face once more a Dead Man.

Then I felt a hand placed gently on my trembling shoulder.

"Fear not," the Voice repeated, but this time it was the deep-timbered voice of a Man who spoke quietly, as if to a frightened child.

His Presence was as overwhelmingly powerful as before, but now there was something else, something that tempered the consuming Fire of His Deity, and I knew then without looking that He had veiled Himself in His humanity to protect such a one as me from the fierceness of His Being - an extravagance of sheer force that not all the stars in the Universe could contain or reflect.

He helped me stand, and lifted my chin to gaze into my eyes.

Oh! The inconceivable LOVE I saw there!

I could only bear that gaze for a moment before I collapsed in great sobs of…

Joy! Yes! It was joy that was washing away all sense of myself, that obliterated all awareness of everything but those eyes.

They shone with a depth of mercy and intelligence for which words had not yet been devised.

And their entire focus was locked so steadfastly on me in such welcome and reciprocal joy that had all eternity ended at that very instant it would have been more than enough!

"I have been waiting a long time for this visit," He said with a smile.

Dead Man Walking

After these things I was aware of two men traveling by foot on an ancient road. I knew who they were somehow, as I also knew their destination. Although I was far from them, as before with the Magdalene, I overheard as they conversed and reasoned along the way.

They spoke of the One in whom they had hoped and whom they had followed, who had seemed to be the fulfillment of the longing of their hearts for themselves and for their captive nation. Underneath their rational discourse was a deep despair. Where was God? was their unspoken cry.

Then they saw Him but did not know Him. How often in human experience has that happened, I wondered. How many times have we seen the One who is Hope, and through stubborn hopelessness, been unable to recognize Him?

I smiled wryly when I heard Him ask the men a follow up to His initial query regarding the subject of their conversation.

He who is the central theme of all history, who is the Knower of all things, who was the very core of what the men discussed with such sadness, condescended to encourage two of His lowly creatures to speak their thoughts by voicing a simple inquiry.

"What things?" he asked gently.

After they had expressed their incredulousness at His apparent ignorance, and their bitter disappointment at the unexpected turn of recent events in Jerusalem, I found myself astonished at the softness and grace of His rebuke.

“O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe in all that the prophets have spoken! Ought not the Christ to have suffered these things and to enter into His glory?”

And then as they walked along the road to Emmaus together, rather than blasting them from existence in disgust at their willful unbelief, He bestowed upon them a teaching from the Source of Wisdom Himself.  And beginning at Moses and all the Prophets, He expounded to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself.

I wanted to spend all the rest of eternity listening to His Words, marveling at the unending richness and depth of their meaning and purpose. Words that had the power to create all reality, or to destroy it. Words that gave life. Words that were life.

"You will," said the voice next to me on the Balcony. "That is the destiny of all His children by faith."

I sighed in real sadness then, as the visions faded, and I was once more merely me, in my own mind. And I was so very, very tired. I would have thought that exhaustion was not possible in Heaven, and then I recalled that I was just on the Periphery, not very close at all to the Throne.

"Come, walk with me," he said.

I was reminded of what I used to say to my young children when they complained of being tired.

"Dad, I can't walk anymore! I'm too exhausted! It's too far to home!"

"Run!" I would say, "You'll get there that much sooner!"

And off they would go, trusting me enough to overcome their natural skepticism that increased effort would invigorate, rather than deplete, their store of energy.

It didn't work for me at that moment, though, even as I found myself along the same Forest path that he had brought me to earlier.

"I can barely put one foot in front of another," I whined. "I am so very tired!"

"I know," said a gentle Voice.

Payment

Indeed I have all and abound. I am full, having received from Epaphroditus the things sent from you, a sweet-smelling aroma, an acceptable sacrifice, well pleasing to God. (Philippians 4:18 NKJV).

Paul reiterates his expertise in being content, and likens the Philippians' recent ministry gift delivered to him by the faithful Epaphroditus, to the Old Testament animal sacrifices of consecration burned on the altar in both the Tabernacle and Temple.

It strikes me that everything that God has instituted throughout human history has lasting purpose. While the Old Testament sacrifices were fulfilled and superseded by Christ's once for all sacrifice on the Cross, the shedding of innocent animal blood perfectly foreshadowed the Son's blood being poured out in our place to make propitiation for our sin. And further, these ritual deaths presented a lasting image of both the penalty and horrendous nature of sin. There is also good reason to believe, based on the prophecies in the Old Testament Book of Ezekiel, that these will be re-instituted during the Millennium, not as foreshadowing, but as memorial.

One of the criticisms of any religious system that believes in sin, is that it is somehow primitive or amoral to attempt to satisfy a deity's anger over bad behavior, or to appease some whimsical divine displeasure, through some kind of substitutionary sacrifice. Modern, enlightened human thinking deems such a course of action as being indicative of magical thinking and therefore irrational and unreasonable. Underneath this intellectual sophistication, however, is a self-deluding conviction that appeasement of someone more powerful than you makes no sense. Really? I suggest that this is patently false, and unless the objectors were insane, when presented with the choice themselves to either be killed, or to appease, these modern sophisticates would choose appeasement. I know they would, because historically they have done so in the past.

When Nazi Germany rolled victoriously over the European landscape in brutal and ruthless conquest, it was the imminently rational and reasonable intellectual class in the various governments that preached appeasement. Whole nations were sacrificed to keep the Nazi fascists at bay, and Hitler ruthlessly broke all promises to remain appeased. He was no fool, but was a bloodthirsty psychopath who effectively played off both the German's fears and resentments, and the neighboring countries' modernism.

Now if appeasement to a ruthless mass murderer with a powerful and effective war machine made sense, then why would the same reasoning not apply to an omniscient, omnipotent Being who demanded satisfaction? My point is that their capitulation proved that their own arguments against the irrationality of propitiating God's righteous wrath against sin was just smoke. What was, and is, really being objected to is the notion that we humans are accountable to God; that He makes demands upon us; that He will judge our lives and deeds according to His standards, and not our own.

This is the same objection, incidentally, that was made in the Garden of Eden, and means that, chronologically at least, rejecting God as Judge is actually more "primitive" than complying with His supernaturally revealed sacrificial system, since the Mosaic Law came well after the Fall.

Paul reminds his readers by these verses that the system of propitiation which memorialized Jesus' sacrifice ahead of time, was the merciful precursor to the final satisfaction against sin achieved by the death of God's beloved Son on the Cross. Regardless of what our opinion might be, when the all powerful Maker and Ruler of Heaven and Earth declares that sin must be judged, it MUST BE JUDGED. And it will either be judged at your death on the basis of your own pitiful actions, or on the basis of Jesus' glorious and loving righteousness made available to you through faith in Him as Lord and Savior.

Is it then amoral, or immoral for one person to pay the debt of another? Certainly not if the payor does so voluntarily. 

The more I walk with the Lord, the more I see the worsening moral and spiritual condition of humanity coming to a head in complete agreement with Biblical prophecy, the more I am steeped in His truth, the more empty the arguments in favor of atheism or universalism or naturalism become.

But at least these anti-God proponents are committed enough in their rebellion to formulate an argument, however empty. What is more repugnant is the millions of doomed souls who neither care enough, nor think of God enough to even formulate a cogent theological position. They may operate on some vague notion of right and wrong, entirely situational, or expedient, and are able without qualm or conscience to toss such out the window if the circumstances make it too costly in gratification or chances for personal survival.

Another equally repugnant group is the religious hypocrites. These are those who talk a good game in the company of others they deem "religious" or "of the faith", but when outside that context, they, like chameleons or sponges, take on the characteristics of their environment, blending in, fitting in, doing nothing that would indicate their professions of faith are anything but empty, breath-wasting mouthings of carbon dioxide. 

Of those groups, there is more hope for the rabid fanatical atheist, than for either the apathetic practitioner of situational ethics, or the "religionized" hypocrite.

By giving us the picture of sin as a heinous eternal crime against an Infinite Being, by giving us the revelation of His Word, by sending His Son to die in payment of our sin, He has set everything in place to compel us to freely choose. Either we submit to His divine authority and mercy, and live. Or we submit to our own mortal and feeble rebelliousness, and die.

Giving and Receiving

Nevertheless you have done well that you shared in my distress. Now you Philippians know also that in the beginning of the gospel, when I departed from Macedonia, no church shared with me concerning giving and receiving but you only. For even in Thessalonica you sent aid once and again for my necessities. Not that I seek the gift, but I seek the fruit that abounds to your account. (Philippians 4:14-17, NKJV).

The Apostle Paul was a low-maintenance missionary and ministry leader. If he wasn't able to be receive support from the various fledgling churches he planted, then he happily supported himself by working as a craftsman. But when he did receive financial aid, he was thrilled and grateful for two primary reasons.

First, it enabled him to focus exclusively on his tireless work of the ministry. This benefited the cities, towns and people he went to, not just temporally, but eternally. How much did Paul's indefatigable commitment to the gospel increase the population of Heaven? Innumerably. He was, after all, responsible for establishing the written (and therefore objective and preservable) foundation of the one true faith, as inspired by the Spirit of Christ Himself. AND he was the founder of the majority of 1st Century churches that we know about. Those of us in the family of God by faith today, are still beneficiaries of his work two millennia later.

Secondly, he rejoiced that such selfless giving redounded a hundred-fold to the generous givers, writing often of how it was credited to their spiritual account. He never ceased to commend the churches under his authority and care for providing support for the work of the ministry. It is utterly worthless to merely wish someone to be well or fed. Don't bother to flap your mouth unless you are willing to back it up with meaningful action. 

Giving can be a hot-button issue today, and rightly so. There are gospelizers galore out there who are in it for the money. They preach Christ for profit, and although God still uses the truth of the message for His sovereign purposes, those who are base purveyors of the Christian religion are doomed to double judgment. God is not mocked. If, as a believer you feel that your are being manipulated or "guilted" into giving, you probably are, and your response should be to turn away from such extortioners.

Know that when God places it on the heart of one of His children to give generously to someone in need, or to support solid, Biblically-grounded missionary, or other godly work, He does NOT use guilt, but joy. He does not use threats nor high-pressure sales techniques, but He most often speaks softly with that still small voice within. Yes, we are exhorted in Scripture to give tithes and offerings, for God loves a cheerful giver. It is very likely that our faithful local fellowship is quite dependent on our regular giving, BUT our compliance is not out of obligation, but gratitude. Or, it should be.

And yes, sometimes generous giving is scary. If, beloved, you are suddenly assailed with an attack of the "what if's" when confronted with the opportunity and means to give of your treasure, do not be surprised. But also, do not let the schemes of the enemy, or your own insecurity, defeat you. You cannot out give God. Sometimes it is good if, in the marriage relationship, the left hand does not know what the right hand is doing in terms of charity. Let one or the other spouse (ideally, the one possessing the appropriate Spiritual Gift of liberality), suggest the recipients and amounts. Of course, the husband is ultimately accountable, so men do not give in to the temptation of taking the easy way out. Stand for and DO what is right, even if it costs you dearly.

And remember too, that if you are a well-taught believer, you know that what you have isn't really yours at all. It is God's, and you are merely His steward. Therefore, be a good one, knowing that your real reward is in Heaven.

There are several common doctrinal (and therefore real life and practical) mistakes often made in regard to giving. Some people wrongly believe that they must give in order to be saved. That is simply not true. How much did the thief on the Cross give to charity before his life ended? Others hold that by giving, they obligate God to bless them. This is the quintessential Let's Make a Deal theology. None of us are in any position to bargain with the Father. Thinking otherwise is either sheer folly or hubris. Lastly, many think that by giving, they are somehow earning extra credit, buying special dispensation, or in some other way hedging their bets. Ridiculous. Even if we gave all we had, we are simply returning to God that which He was gracious enough to provide us in the first place.

The real motivation for giving is love. The real motivation is faith. The real motivation is a humble acknowledgment that we are completely dependent on the Giver of all good gifts. And know this, the Bible teaches that there is an equation of grace involved, namely, the principle of sowing and reaping. You WILL reap what you sow. If you sow to your flesh, you will reap death. If you sow to the Spirit, you will reap eternal life.  Again, you cannot out give the Father. What you receive in return for faithful charity may not be anything that you expect or anticipate. And the return may not certainly be in kind, or even in this life. But God rewards those who diligently seek and serve Him, for great is your reward for even providing a drink of water in His name.

Finally, no matter what words your local fellowship may use, the Body of Christ does not take your offering. It receives it. The distinction is subtle, but important. Think of it this way. When something is taken, there is no necessary precondition that the something is freely given. After all, governments can take your taxes, thieves can take your goods, and a murderer can take take your life, just as easily as someone can take your proffered gift.

But something that is received can only be given. If the something is received, it must necessarily have been freely offered, else words have no meaning. In reality, it is like love, or faith, or respect. These virtues can only be received. They can never be taken.

Remember that, beloved, the next time God gives you the opportunity and leading to share of your time or money or hospitality.

Can Do

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:13, NKJV).

The Apostle Paul here gives us the syllabus for his curriculum of how he had learned in whatever state he found himself to be content.

He has declared repeatedly throughout the New Testament, his complete reliance on Christ. He does not see such interpersonal dependence on the Savior as weakness, but as the epitome of strength. This is diametrically opposed to the world view that promotes self-reliance and self-confidence. In fact, in contrast, Paul warns that he who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall. Where we consider ourselves the strongest is where, in reality, we are the weakest.

It is only through our moment-by-moment surrender to Christ and His will for us that we can hope to accomplish anything of worth in this life, and it is only through our humble acknowledgement of our own weakness that He  can be strong in us. Paul puts the equation this way:

Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:10, NKJV).  

This is true because our ability to do anything truly valuable comes only through Christ.

Do not misunderstand. I am not naively claiming that there does not exist any merely human talents, strengths and achievements. There have been many powerful and accomplished unbelievers throughout history. But aside from the fact that their abilities and/or character traits are gifts from God that He sometimes bestows on some individuals as He wills, through genetic inheritance or fortuitous circumstances, it does not mitigate the fact that the results of those gifts are utterly worthless from an eternal perspective. While they might accidentally benefit others, the motivations behind those achievements are self-centered and therefore an abomination  to God. 

He does not share His glory, and for good reason. Anything or anyone that does not point or give credit to the Father in Heaven distracts and misleads people from the only thing that is ultimately important, escaping eternal damnation. What possible good does it do for someone to worship a celebrity or sports figure or philanthropist or billionaire or system or philosophy or relative? And make no mistake. That kind of human or conceptual worship is pervasive today, perhaps mores than at any other time in our planet's past.

We are built to worship. It is part of our essential nature, as much a requirement as the need for air or nourishment.

And if we don't worship Christ, we WILL worship something or someone else, usually ourselves.

Furthermore, if we do not honestly recognize the Source of all good things, we will be deceived into following that which cannot lead to the Savior. And without the Savior we are unthinkably doomed to a fate far worse than death.

Conversely, if we end up crediting ourselves as being the source of any good that we do, we become guilty of worshiping a false God. For who makes you differ from another? And what do you have that you did not receive? Now if you did indeed receive it, why do you boast as if you had not received it? (1 Corinthians 4:7, NKJV). And in crediting ourselves, we deny God the thanksgiving that is His due.

These ideas have become the antithetical benchmark of modern thinking. To give God glory for these abilities and gifts is to acknowledge His rightful place as Creator, and that is anathema to the world. The rabid anti-Creationist hostility that runs wild through the halls of academia and cultural institutions says it all. If God is Creator, than man is under His authority and ownership. To behave or believe otherwise is rebellion and sin. It is what brought death into the world.

Think about it for a second. Had Adam in the Garden simply maintained belief in the statement Paul writes so succinctly in this verse, he would have passed the test of temptation, and all the hellish events of history since that horrible act of self-reliance on the part of the First Man would not have occurred. Earth would have remained Paradise instead of Perdition.

Often and rightly, we look at the the apostle's eloquent declaration of dependence on His Lord as a means to strengthen us in times of weakness. It reminds us that Christ stands with us through temptations and trials, and we are encouraged by that necessary reminder. But it is far more than that.

It is a declaration of allegiance to God and His Son, and a declaration of defiance against the deception of this age. It places us firmly in opposition to the world and its current ruler, and on the side of the One who died to make us free.

To live this way, in open and unpretentious reliance on God for all things, will not make you popular or influential among the children of rebellion, but you will shine as an inextinguishable light in the realm of the King.

Dead Man Alive Forevermore

Now on the first day of the week Mary Magdalene went to the tomb early, while it was still dark, and saw that the stone had been taken away from the tomb. Then she ran and came to Simon Peter, and to the other disciple, whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken away the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid Him.” Peter therefore went out, and the other disciple, and were going to the tomb. So they both ran together, and the other disciple outran Peter and came to the tomb first. And he, stooping down and looking in, saw the linen cloths lying there; yet he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb; and he saw the linen cloths lying there, and the handkerchief that had been around His head, not lying with the linen cloths, but folded together in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who came to the tomb first, went in also; and he saw and believed. For as yet they did not know the Scripture, that He must rise again from the dead. Then the disciples went away again to their own homes. But Mary stood outside by the tomb weeping, and as she wept she stooped down and looked into the tomb… 

I saw her see the two angels from my vantage point infinitely far away, and yet so terribly near. I almost heard her heart leap within her at the appearance of these magnificent and radiant creatures, but not because of who they were, but because of Whom they were not. They asked her the cause of her weeping. 

That these heavenly beings in glowing white robes spoke to her did not matter. They were not Him. She would not be distracted from her mission - to see her Lord one last time. It was the focus of her entire being, and the devotion of her heart would not let even the Host of Heaven stand in her way.

Her response was made with understated agony. "They have taken away my Lord and I do not know where they have laid Him!"

Since they gave her no immediate answer, she turned from them. Perhaps she heard the footsteps of the Man who suddenly approached. Mostly, it seemed she had little thought for them at all. They were not Him!

In turning she saw Someone who had the appearance of a common day laborer, a gardener by the looks of Him. When He asked her the same question, she leapt at the possibility that this Man might know something. “Sir, if You have carried Him away, tell me where You have laid Him, and I will take Him away.”

She was not large, nor did she appear unusually strong for a woman her age, but the intensity of her longing was evident, and it seemed to me looking on, that she would have done anything to procure a final resting place for the body of the Man who was life itself to her. Even if it meant attempting to transport the dead weight of a fully grown corpse entirely by herself. It was as clear as a sunlit spring that nothing else mattered; not defilement from touching the dead; not the weakness of her frame; not the improbability of her success. Her grief-stricken heart would not be stayed.

Then this Man whom she did not recognize spoke a single word to her.

"Mary," He said.

It was the voice of her Creator and Redeemer speaking her name. It was the voice of Love itself calling out to her as no Other possibly could. Though I was mere spectator, my heart soared within me knowing, at least in part, the utter joy that was hers. The deepest, most intense longing of her soul was right there before her, against all logic and odds and probability; an impossible hope beyond all hope fulfilled! What an astounding gift of grace and love! She was the first, the very first to see the Risen Lord, and He called her by name!

"TEACHER!" she cried and flung herself at His feet, grasping Him with all her strength, as if to convey that she would never let Him from her sight or release Him from her desperately longing arms again.

I did not see His face at any time during this encounter, and especially at that moment as He gazed downward at His maidservant from whom He had cast seven demons, and who was now weeping in ecstasy and joy in the Presence of Him whom she had thought stolen from her forever.

"Do not cling to Me," he said gently, "for I have not yet ascended to My Father; but go to My brethren and say to them, ‘I am ascending to My Father and your Father, and to My God and your God."

She looked up at Him at those words, her face imbued with love and devotion beyond mere speech to describe.

I turned away then. I could not intrude on so intimate a moment between the Savior and His beloved. He was Resurrected King, and yet Gentle Teacher. Lord of Lords Eternal, and yet intimate Friend. In that momentary glance between that woman headed for death, and the One who died in her place so she would live, I saw all the purposes of Heaven from Creation to the Cross.

Had she been the only one to receive His gift, I believe in my heart He would have laid down His life regardless.

But she was just the first to see Him whom death could not destroy, nor grave hold.

And in loving and simple obedience, she obeyed.

Dead Man in the Tomb

The grief-pierced mother. The traumatized beloved disciple. The sickening crunch of leg bones being deliberately broken on either side of the central crucifix. The mocking crowd silenced by darkness and the shaking earth after the spear-pierced chest of the Son emptied His heart of blood and water.

Two respectable old men coming with servants and releasing the Body from the blood-blackened wood of the crosspiece and lowering it gently to the ground where it is wrapped in linen and spices, as the custom of the Jews is to bury. The bemused Roman soldiers, battle-hardened and immune to the bleeding and broken flesh of the dead, marveling at the convulsions of earth and sky at the demise of this Man; the same Man who had uttered words of forgiveness as these very men had been nailing Him to the Cross.

In the precincts of Jerusalem, some of the dead are made alive again and walk among the living. Not as zombies, but with resurrected life, soon to be led into Heaven by their King, but not for some days. The 18-inch thick veil of the Temple on Mount Moriah rent in two from top to bottom.

All these images with their accompanying sounds and sensations assailed my mind as I looked over the edge of existence from the Balcony. I had wished to see Jesus. My prayer had been granted, this far at least.

The Tomb to which they transported the bloodied and lifeless Figure was a cave hollowed into the side of a granite hill near a garden that was to serve as a rich man's burial chamber. A few men and women followed, trying to contain their heartbreak and grief. Some of the women unable to suppress sobs welling up from their inmost beings. The Body placed lovingly inside on the chiseled granite shelf. The massive stone gate rolled into its permeant place sealing the cave from all light and life.

Before sunset, just as the observant Jews left to comply with Sabbath regulations, a cohort of Roman guards arrived to prevent anyone from entering the Tomb and stealing the body.

The corpse lay lifeless and cold - God become Man become sin become sacrifice.

Did I continue to gaze on that scene for three planetary days and nights? Was time telescoped in some fashion? I cannot say.

What I do know is that as I watched I was somehow transported to the place of the righteous dead; a temporary abode deep within the earth where those who had died in faith, from ancient Cain to the repentant thief on the Cross, awaited the Promised Seed of the Woman, the One who would lead the captives free. And there I saw Him from a distance, the Glorified One, His raiment shining as white as the sun, announcing His victory over Death and Hades and preaching the Gospel of grace. He bade them wait just a little while longer, and He would bring them to their longed for place of rest.

After this, I observed and heard the disciples, less one, hidden away secretly behind locked doors, gathered together mournfully in fear and utter discouragement. These were men and women sorrowful beyond words, feeling as orphans suddenly bereft of all hope and comfort.

Although I sensed the sun rise the next dawn, and the dawn after that, the light that it brought to the earth was pale and without real warmth. And though most of the planet went on as it had from the beginning, those few who knew of the momentous events of the last three years, and especially the last three days, looked upon life and the future as those who had lost a firstborn to an untimely and violent death. They were filled with sorrow upon sorrow, wondering whether what, and more importantly, Who, they had believed was true. Was it all a dream? A deranged vision? What of the miracles? And the glorious teachings? What of this Man who could still the storm, give sight to the blind, heal the sick, make the lame whole, and raise the dead?

And where was God to allow such horror and disillusionment to occur?

Perhaps it was understandable that in their grief and fear they did not remember the words that He had graciously told them about these events before they unfolded, so that they might believe. Perhaps in their mere humanness and self-focus, these men, who had been His closest disciples day in and day out for more than three years, could not see beyond their own personal brokenness and despair. 

And while they were immersed in mourning and bitter disappointment, the world in their immediate vicinity rejoiced in raucous discord in response to the immensity of the loss suffered. The troublemaking rabble-rouser had finally received His just comeuppance; destroyed on the Cross as a vile blasphemer and criminal.

Then in the darkness of that cavern Tomb, unseen by human eyes, a light burst forth like the sustained and space-bending blast of a supernova, and Life returned to that lifeless Body. He who had died in such agony, made Himself alive again, just as it was foretold according to the ancient Scriptures. He who was the Light of the World, the Bread of Life, the Door, the Way the Truth and the Life, became alive again forever more.

And as the entire Host of Heaven raised their voices as one in glorious angelic praise to the One who is, Who was, and Who is to come, all the defiled Legions of Hell wailed in demonic agony and terror, knowing that their days were short, and their end in the eternal Lake of Fire assured.

And shortly the cry of HE IS RISEN! would go forth to all the world with the power to change, not only the course of history, but the very human heart itself. 

Dead Man on the Cross

I knew in my heart what was next and I did not want to see.

The scene at Bethlehem? Yes. It was magnificent in its austerity, majestic in its overt simplicity, and so very representative of the humility and grace of the One who was born to die. There was an admitted sentimentality about it, of course, because of the many memorable Christmas celebrations where those very images were central to the joy and familial love of both my childhood, and especially the precious moments with my own wife and children. Time passes so very, very quickly, and those poignant moments are often bittersweet, and the memories are sometimes hard to bear.

But what was coming next made the most heartfelt ache of a human life absolutely nothing in comparison.

Though still on the Balcony, I was standing again. Next to me stood my guide. Though very far away in time and space, my perspective was that of an eyewitness. 

I was there, yet not there. The tumult of the crowd and the cruel hysteria of the direct participants were overwhelming. I smelled the fetid human odor of hatred and fear, and my soul was weighted down by the oppression of spiritual darkness so dense and tangible that it felt to me as if I were being physically crushed.

Then I heard the sickening crack of the torturous lash against the back of a Man who was utterly undeserving of judgment, human or divine. I saw the flecks of blood and skin flayed into the air by the well-practiced arm of a professional killer. His skill was diabolically evident in the precision of his ruthlessly placed blows. The sound of each nauseating strike shattered the very fabric of the Universe from earth to the highest Heaven, and yet it seemed of almost no significance to the majority of the humans in attendance.

Soon after these things there came the demonic cry of the mob, "CRUCIFY HIM! CRUCIFY HIM!"

Then the horrible efficiency of the iron-headed mallet driving the spikes through innocent human flesh, the dull thud of impact the only thing audible. The victim was resolutely silent, as a Lamb led to the slaughter.

This was followed by the collective groan of the leather-clad Roman soldiers as they laboriously hefted the cross piece onto its stanchion.

The blood of redemption flowed copiously from the thorn-pierced brow and the vicious wounds of of lash and nails.

Evil mocking defiled the human audience with its cruelty and utterly compassionless intensity. Hatred welled up in a vile explosion of purest evil.

And still the Sufferer neither cried out nor cursed.

Then the Voice, that same Voice that created all Time and Space and Matter, finally uttered Words of Power far more profound than those which caused every galaxy to leap into existence from absolute nothingness. These were the utterances that the whole of Creation was groaning for and longing for since the Fall millennia before. This was the most significant moment of all the millions upon millions of moments past or future. It was the penultimate culmination of the eternal counsels of the godhead before the foundation of the world.

"Father!" the Voice called out with surprising strength, "Forgive them for they know not what they do!"

I did not know whether it was unspeakable sorrow or infinite joy that gripped me in an unbreakable vise. I was beyond all weeping or expression, except for one solitary, spirit-breaking thought. I did this! I made this necessary! He is dying so that I might LIVE!

Awe and love and eternal gratitude annihilated all thought of myself. There was only One who is worthy of all praise and blessing and honor and power.

Then this heart-stopping cry from the Cross of Love, "My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me!"

How could this be happening? Why was not all the Host of Heaven exacting perfect vengeance on the human vermin (myself included) responsible for the most heinous act conceivable? 

To hear the broken-hearted cry of the One who came to save, to imagine the infinite grief of the Father as He heard the sorrow and pain of His Beloved and denied Him the mercy He so freely gives to us every moment, this should have undone everything! But it did not! Instead, through the unimaginable grace of the One hanging in agony on that cursed wooden Cross, IT MADE ALL THINGS NEW!

Then came the crowning moment of history.

The Voice once more spoke with the magnificent certainty of complete and undeniable victory. The Words rang out from one end of Creation to the other.

"IT IS FINISHED!"

Now my heart SOARED with the incredible beauty and brilliance of it all! By His death conquering Death. By His undeserved judgment, judging sin FOREVER. By His sacrifice TAKING AWAY the sin of the world! My sin!

And then one last saying.

"Father! Into Your hands I commit my Spirit!"

And I looked and saw The Dead Man on the Cross, and knew beyond all doubt that He died for me.

Dead Man Before the Foundation of the World

"Look to the Cross…"

His last words reverberated through the corridors of time, and as I lay collapsed on the Balcony floor, I could once more look over the edge of existence, even through my tears. And instead of the Blue Marble of our Home World, or the expanse of star-filled space, I saw a vast undifferentiated void of darkness. I could sense, but not perceive with my eyes, a roiling cauldron of raw energy. Something entirely unique and inconceivably powerful was taking place.

In the background, barely audible at first, but growing rapidly and steadily in volume, was a chorus of increasingly thunderous song, splitting the darkness in galaxy-sized wave after wave of pure melodious joy. If sound had form and color it would be this. If music could shape reality, it would be this music. I forgot my shame and my relief. I forgot who, and even where I was. I forgot everything about me, and was carried along inexorably in what I came to realize could only be the Symphony of Creation at the very dawn of Time.

And then, and then… the Voice.

It exploded across the vast infant creation so that all else was rendered mute and invisible and insubstantial. It filled all existence with something, or perhaps Someone, so vibrant, so very alive, that life became, from that instant onward, something separate and distinct from the Voice Itself, but still inextricably of It, and from It and through It, sourced and sustained by It.

And I heard the very first Words of Power spoken into the void and roiling darkness.

"LET THERE BE LIGHT!"

And all darkness fled into nothingness and all around and through everything was light!

It was a light so all-encompassing, so gloriously radiant that it was somehow tangible and solid and more real than anything before or since.

And I witnessed and heard the commanding hymn of Creation, and saw the foundation of the world and time and space and energy being spoken into existence by the Voice Himself in a marvelous crescendo of love and power, as I sat enthralled and self-forgotten, and was audience to the Sons of God continuing their chorus of joyous praise at the Dawn of Creation.

And then, somehow, before, and behind, the very center of the New Heaven and Earth, I saw the image of a Lamb, as if He had been slain.

In the next instant, the Blue Planet, the vortex of God's eternal focus and attention, filled my viewpoint, as my consciousness was thrown through layers of time and space, deep down into the atmosphere blanketing the world.  And there I was, at the very navel of the planet, where all the slipstreams and incredibly complex threads of redemptive history wove themselves into a brilliant and complicated tapestry of human history. And I saw outside the City of David, the very same all-encompassing Light of Creation condensed and concealed within an oh-so-human Infant wrapped in swaddling cloths, laying atop a rough food trough in a Shepherd's Cave.

And the Sons of God were once more assembled in a chorus of resounding joy that filled the heavens and shook the earth.

And I heard another voice, authoritative and powerful, but merely human this time, speaking ageless words of prophetic comfort.

“Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and shall call His name Immanuel; God with us!"

And the same voice, yet again,

"The people who walked in darkness Have seen a great light; Those who dwelt in the land of the shadow of death, Upon them a light has shined."

Then I came back to myself, not willingly, but because I had no choice, else I would have stayed content (and more than content) as awestruck witness to events so majestic and powerful that I could have spent eternity immersed in their everlasting significance.

I knew by the wonder on my companion's face that he had shared with me all that I had just experienced.

"Why has He done this for me?" I whispered. And by that I meant everything, from the Creation, to the end of the Age, and on into Eternity.

"Because He loves you," he said, with unshakable conviction.

"Look to the Cross," he repeated yet again.