The Gospel Imperative

The parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16) is arguably one of the three best known parables, a trio which includes the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan. I suspect that is so because all three possess vivid imagery. What sets the Rich Man and Lazarus apart, however, is the graphic portrayal of the destiny of human beings who die having lived lives that are not “rich toward God.” The quote, you may know, is from the parable of the Rich Fool (Luke 12). That parable warns against covetousness, illustrating that in the end what we possess on earth will be left behind and we will stand before God to account for what we did with what he brought under our stewardship. We should not, therefore, covet another’s riches, which only breeds discontent, but should seek, rather, the contentment that comes from trusting and serving our wise and gracious heavenly Father. In that way, we will be “rich toward God.”

Once again, the call to stewardship is presented in the Rich Man and Lazarus. But this time the sentence that awaits is depicted. In a stunning reversal, the one people would have assumed was blessed by God, evidenced by his great wealth, is condemned, while the one assumed to be condemned, evidenced by his extreme destitution, is blessed. And the condemnation is terrifying: a state of unrelenting and unalterable torment that is physical, psychological, and eternal. Such is the warning Jesus gives those who are “lovers of money,” who “seek to justify [themselves] before men,” who are seemingly unaware that “what is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God” (Luke 16:14-15).

Despite the harrowing outcome for such ones, we are to be reminded that the one who paints the picture is hailed as Savior. He came to save greedy, self-justifying, hard-hearted humans. This is the good news, the gospel, that has been proclaimed by the church since it was commissioned by her Lord to make disciples of the nations. Faith in his faithfulness is what guarantees the depicted balm for the impoverished soul, be that one rich in this world’s goods or poor. And as long as that one breathes there is hope that the good news will be heard. This is why we must persistently pray to God for the grace, wisdom, and courage to tell others of the Savior, for “faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (Romans 10:17).

The Resurrection: Validation and Vindication of the Lamb of God

The resurrection of Jesus, the assertion central to the observance of Easter, is a non-negotiable component of the Gospel. Paul states this clearly: “I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures” (1 Corinthians 15:3-4). Why are these particular teachings “of first importance”? They are the ground upon which we claim the hope of eternal life. 

Jesus died to atone for our sins. As the sacrificial and substitutionary Lamb of God, he fulfilled all righteousness even to the point of dying on a cross. Then, in fulfillment of what was said about the coming Savior, he died among the wicked and was buried with the rich. But most important of all that is of “first importance,” he rose again from the dead. This is critical. For as Paul bluntly states, “if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins.” Why is this so? Because it is the resurrection that validates and vindicates Jesus.

He told his disciples beforehand, on several occasions, that he would be given over to be scourged and crucified but would come back to life “on the third day.” That this indeed happened validates the words he spoke about his death and resurrection and by extension all that he taught and said. The resurrection also vindicated Jesus against all the charges that were leveled against him. He was not a demon-possessed, blaspheming criminal deserving of death. To the contrary, he “was declared to be the Son of God in power according to the Spirit of holiness by his resurrection from the dead” (Romans 1:4). In the words of Peter, “God raised him up, loosing the pangs of death, because it was not possible for him to be held by it” (Acts 2:24).

If Jesus did not rise from the dead then he could not have been the “Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). He would have been just another human being who needed the Lamb of as much as anyone else. But with his resurrection his person and purpose were proclaimed. Faith in him is not futile. It is that which saves the sinner for “there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12).

Preservation, Purification, Protection

Paul writes in 1 Thessalonians 5, concerning the church, that God "has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation" (v. 9). This is the gospel stated in its most succinct form. Those who are in union with Christ are saved from the dreadful day of judgment. And as is evident in God's dealings with Israel, he keeps his word. He preserves for himself a people who will experience the fullness of his mercy. But as is also evident in his dealings with Israel, the blissful destination doesn't guarantee a blissful journey. A lot of divine effort goes into protecting and preserving God's elect. The closing verses of Micah 5 give insight into the process, a process that's focused on fulfilling the 1st command, "You shall have no other gods before me," a process that roots out the enemy within and defeats the enemies without. 

First he attacks "horses," "chariots" and "strongholds." These were entities in which Israel trusted to keep the enemies at bay and their future secure. Then he purposes to "cut off sorceries," false sources of discernment and insight. Next he intends to destroy "carved images . . . pillars . . . cities," objects and centers of idolatry. All of these work to undermine the singular devotion and trust that God's people should have in him as the one who redeemed them from slavery and made of them a kingdom of priests. 

His protection also includes dealing with the external enemies of his people. The people of God have always been under threat. As I write, there is significant persecution being perpetrated against the elect in parts of the world. Nevertheless, God will not allow any nation to have the final say about their destiny. He states that "in anger and wrath" he will "execute vengeance on the nations that did not obey." Dictators may flex their nationalistic muscles or pious murderers may wield their sacred swords, but they will not prevail over God's intention to have for himself a people who will enjoy his presence eternally. 

Of course, the one shepherding this process is the Bethlehem-born Messiah who stands "in the strength of the LORD, in the majesty of the name of the LORD his God." And because of the protection he affords, "they shall dwell secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth" (5:4). 

As Paul urges, let's "encourage one another and build one another up" as we consider Yahweh's gracious goal for his people (1 Thess. 5:11).

Advent: Regaining the Future

“She took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate . . .” A fateful moment, a terrifying moment. They had been warned of the consequences, but something, someone, had convinced them that things would actually be better this way. The effects were immediate and devastating. In a flash, all was lost. Cast out, the bounty and beauty of Eden was irreclaimable. Angels and flaming swords barred re-entrance and whatever future would have been theirs in that magnificent place was now destroyed.

Such a radical reordering brought on by their own foolishness could have caused a soul destroying hopelessness to overtake our first parents were it not for the promise that had been uttered in the garden. God had decreed that one born of the seed of the woman would triumph over Satan and the evil he had unleashed. This seed of hope took root in their souls and sustained the offspring of the woman from that moment forward. For generations they had looked for it to bear fruit.

This looking forward with hope-filled expectation in God’s promise is what the Advent season marks. It is the restoration of the future in the face of human failing. It is the belief that God is true to his word, not just in justice but also in mercy. It is a time, therefore, when we can seek God for his grace to attend our future shattering impulses. 

It can only take a moment. A rash decision, a destructive action taken, and the expected future vanishes. Though it was only a dream to begin with, it had the substance of hope to sustain it. Now with the future gone, a hopelessness begins to seep into the soul with corrosive effect. There appears no way out of the consequences of the error. The life that might have been will never be, and justification for pressing on is hard to obtain. Have you experienced this? I pray you haven’t. But if you have, I pray you have discovered the redemptive and restorative work of the one who came to us in Bethlehem. I pray this season of Advent will bring Jesus into your life and with him the future and hope.

The Absurdity of the Gospel

Naaman was a powerful man. His king held him in high regard for he had won wars for Syria (see 2 Kings 5). But Naaman was also a sick man. He was a leper and nothing he tried had cured him. As the story unfolds, however, we learn that Naaman’s disease was not his real problem. When a new solution, one that would actually cure him, was offered, he responded according to a set of presuppositions that deafened him to the saving word of God. Tellingly, everything about the prophet Elisha’s plan seemed absurd to the powerful Naaman.

Such is always the case when the word of God comes. The message sounds ridiculous and we respond not with gratitude, but with offense. This is because the word of God is “of a different order,” to use Jacques Ellul’s language. The Greek philosophers in Athens mocked Paul’s preaching as nonsense, while his Jewish hearers thought it blasphemous. Why? As the apostle Paul teaches, the “foolishness” of God is wiser than human wisdom, and we cannot comprehend that the word of God could be true.

This is not just a problem for unregenerate Jews and Greeks (or Syrians, for that matter). We Christians have a problem in accepting the good news as it has been proclaimed. Paul had experienced this first hand when he witnessed the influence of the “judaizers.” These were people within the pale of Christianity who could not really grasp the gospel in all its richness. The redemptive covenant that God had cut in Christ was for those who came into it by faith, whether Jew or Gentile. But for the judaizers, Gentiles had to first become Jews, symbolized by being circumcised. Paul condemned such an expectation in the strongest terms (see Philippians 3:2-3; Galatians 1:6-9). For it is by “grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9).

It’s likely that none of you reading this would assert that one needs to be circumcised to be in good standing with God. However, you might be offering other tokens for God’s approval: your hard work in the church, your eschewing of “worldly” pleasures, your diligent devotional practices. Such pious credentials cannot -- must not -- substitute for standing in the grace of God by faith. If such approval seeking does find its way into your thinking, pray that you have ears to hear and embrace the absurdity of the gospel. It has the power to free you from every attempt to improve on the plan that God has revealed in his gracious word.

To Seek and to Save

Events that had been planned from eternity were about to unfold. Jesus, knowing that the “days drew near for him to be taken up,” had “set his face to go to Jerusalem” (Luke 9:51). That determination had brought him into proximity of the place that symbolized God’s presence among his people. Soon, despite the accolades that will accompany his entrance into Jerusalem, he will be rejected by the “righteous,” who should have been able to see him for who he was. They will remand him to be humiliated, tortured, and finally executed. Spiritual blindness was a persistent problem for Israel; now the malady would prove decisive. In a stroke of divine irony, however, a blind man will recognize him and an unrighteous man will welcome him.

Jesus proclamation that the “Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10), reveals that the heart of his mission was to wrest from men and women any sense that they have no need of him. Men like Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, and Zacchaeus, a despised tax collector in the employ of Rome, were persuaded of this need, and when they heard that their savior was passing by, they laid hold of him.

Jesus’ encounters with these two men serve as a fitting exclamation point to his ministry prior to Holy Week. He had proclaimed his purposes early on in his hometown of Nazareth (see Luke 4:18-21) and he had been faithful in demonstrating that, as proclaimed, he had come “to seek and to save the lost.” That explanation of his work within the context of these two final encounters, places his entire enterprise within an eternal frame. The confession of Bartimaeus and the contriteness of Zacchaeus reveal faith in Jesus that saves them not only from earthly bondage but from eternal judgment as well.

Just after these encounters and prior to his ascent to Jerusalem, motivated by the misapprehension of many as to what was about to take place, Jesus relates a parable that warns of the consequences of not grasping who he is. The message: understand now and live accordingly, for when I return it will be too late. We are in that time period right now. It extends from the moment of his ascension until his reappearing. Pray that, like Bartimaeus and Zacchaeus, you will have ears to hear when the good news about Jesus is made known to you. The faith that will be engendered will result in eyes that will see him as the savior of the world.

Becoming Persuaded

It’s not unusual to receive a report from Open Doors or Voice of the Martyrs (organizations that monitor the persecution of Christians) about a woman or man who formerly would have identified as Muslim but has now converted to Christianity, being threatened with death unless he or she converts back to Islam. It's humbling to hear of the threatened brother or sister holding “fast the confession of our hope without wavering” (Hebrews 10:23). Why would they rather die than yield up their belief in Christ? It can only be that they have become persuaded that faith in Christ is more valuable than even life itself.

Persuading people is at the heart of the gospel enterprise, while “point-of-the-sword” conversions, like the kind alluded to above, are anathema. Though the church has been guilty of promoting such spurious “conversions,” it was not the practice of the apostles and cannot be the practice of any gospel believing and preaching church.

The gospel is a message to be proclaimed and believed. Both activities engage the heart and mind. Coercive practices subjugate them.  A person might submit out of fear, but fear is not faith – and faith is what is called for by the good news.

In this vain, it’s important to acknowledge that Paul says that he could have “commanded” Philemon to receive Onesimus back but preferred to appeal to him (Philemon 8-9). This is because, I would suggest, Paul trusted the gospel way of getting things done. He wanted his friend to be personally persuaded that forgiveness, love, and reconciliation was the right course of action for a Christian. And being persuaded, he could meet the personal and societal challenges of such a turn of events with persevering faith.

So, whether it’s first coming to faith in Christ or pressing on in the new life set before us, being persuaded as to the goodness of the person, purposes, and power of God is key. Without being convinced of these things we will not joyously follow Christ out of love and faith. Our hearts will lack ardor and our faith will prove tentative and, as we will be prone to doubts and fears, the ability to confess, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13) will not be ours.  The best we will be able to offer him is grudging, reluctant, and timid obedience.

A Changed Man

Onesimus, a slave, had run away. When he fled he took something of value from his master's home: money? jewelry? He probably thought he had made a clean get away, traveling many, many miles to the city of Rome where he could live out his days, and his freedom, in anonymity. But things did not go as planned. He was now on his way back to his master to face the consequences of his flight and thievery. What's remarkable about his return is that he was going back not under guard, or in chains, but of his own volition. He was going back because he had come to a new understanding of his obligations to his master. How had this change come about? What made a man, who had decided it was best to flee his circumstances, now decide to face them? It was the presence of God's redemptive power in his life. While in Rome, he had met the apostle Paul, who shared with him the gospel of Jesus Christ. By the grace of God, Onesimus came to faith and he was a changed man, a new creation.

The brief story of Onesimus, which is the subject of Paul's letter to his friend Philemon, is a powerful example of what can happen when a person who comes to faith in Christ embraces the process of change that God intends to take place in the lives of his children. That process involves (at the very least) the renewing of the mind (so that we understand the will of God), the practice of repentance (when something we formerly thought acceptable is discovered to be outside of God's will), the participation in the life of the community of God's family (for mutual provocation and support in the process of change), and, most importantly, the resource of Jesus himself (who unites himself to us when we confess him as Lord; see Ephesians 4:17-24).

As the story of Onesimus illustrates, change is possible. We need not respond to the circumstances of life with the same default responses that exhibited themselves when we were governed by our old nature. With God's help, utilizing the means he has provided, we can put off the old self and put on the new and face the challenges of life with faith.

Fragile Faith

David’s decision to flee to the Philistines (1 Samuel 27) is totally understandable. He had been relentlessly pursued by Saul and had heard his pleas for forgiveness before. Experience had taught David that Saul was not to be trusted no matter how genuine the appeal sounded. He also had those with him: some 600 men and their families. To continue moving and managing that horde was both taxing and troublesome. It made sense to put all that behind him, at least for a while, and find safety under the protection of Achsih, king of Gath, a Philistine city.

As understandable as David’s decision was, it was not commendable. In fact, given all that David had been provided in the way of assurances that Yahweh was with him and would be his protection, the decision to find refuge among pagans outside the boundaries of Israel revealed a faith that had wavered. His fragile, faltering faith put David in a precarious position that, unless the Lord had intervened, would have caused him to participate in grievous sin.

But the Lord did intervene and therein lies the lesson. Like Jesus holding out his hand to Peter when Peter allowed the circumstances around him to get inside his head (see Matthew 14:22-33), the Lord did not abandon David. The pursuit by Saul had taken its toll and David decided trusting in Yahweh’s protection was more than he could maintain. Nonetheless, the Lord pulled him through much as Jesus pulled Peter into the boat.

The promise is that the Lord will not abandon his children, even when his children act in ways that doubt his watch-care. For, “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust” (Psalm 103:13-14). We shouldn’t cavalierly test his kindness, but we can trust it.

We Have No King but . . .

The Israelites' demand that Samuel make them a king (1 Samuel 8) was in and of itself not an evil request. Israel being ruled by a monarch had been anticipated in the covenant God made with Abraham, reiterated in the blessing of Jacob, and detailed in the Law of Moses. What made the demand offensive was the motivation and manner of the demand. They wanted to be "like all the nations" around them and they wanted it now.

But Israel was not like other nations. They were a chosen people who had as their sovereign the God who made heaven and earth. He was the one who had brought them out from the slavery of Egypt and into the land that he had promised to their forefather, Abraham. Throughout, Yahweh had exercised his rule over them by the people he had raised up and when it came time for the monarchy they were to await his selection. Their faithless and untimely demand for a king, however, showed once again how prone they were to being like the other nations around them (1 Samuel 8:8).

A warning is here. As Christians we confess Jesus as Lord (Romans 10:9). Biblically, such a confession brings with it the expectation of otherness, as was upon the Israelites, as well as the need to be ruled by Christ, in all of his kingly sovereignty. As it did for the Israelites, this will demand faith and courage. The pressure to be like "the other nations" is great, particularly when our separateness brings with it strife. The solution, however, is not to slip into a posture that renders us indistinguishable from those around us. On the contrary, we are to hold fast to our confession without wavering (Hebrews 10:23), trusting that our Lord is able to protect us and cause us to prosper.