The Power of Example

Who are your heroes? Who do you want to be like? Who presents an example that you want to follow? Perhaps you haven’t thought about it much. You should, for we are built to emulate. As such, we pick stuff up. Consciously or unconsciously, the people that have been part of our lives have influenced how we think and behave. As a result, we are products, at least in part, of the examples that have paraded before our eyes.

The power of example is not to be underestimated. Examples can be innocuous, edifying, or destructive. Modeling your hairstyle after someone else is innocuous. Opening your home because you were treated generously in a time of need is good. Being abusive to your wife as your father was to your mother is destructive. In each case, we are proving that we have been influenced by the example of another.

Christians are called to “shine as lights in the world.” We are obligated, therefore, to seek out good examples. We want to emulate those who themselves have been shaped by the gospel. Timothy and Epaphroditus, whom Paul puts forward as worthy of honor, are such examples. They model the kind of other-oriented selflessness and sacrifice that is the hallmark of Christian maturity. Yet it was the apostle, who himself had learned that he must decrease and Jesus must increase, who had a profound affect upon these two. Paul had modeled what desiring Jesus entailed and Timothy and Epaphroditus wanted what Paul wanted. This resulted in lives given over to the service of Christ and others. They were godly men, worthy of honor and emulation.

We must choose our heroes wisely. Do their lives reflect core gospel components, the other-oriented selflessness and sacrifice that was the arc of Jesus earthly existence, or is it all about them? Anyone we would seek to emulate (including Paul, Timothy and Epaphroditus) other than Christ will in some way or the other fall short. But in Jesus we have the example par excellence. Model those who model him and your light will shine brighter.

Willing Obedience

Obedience is ________ .

How do you fill in the blank? Difficult? Necessary? Detestable? How about enjoyable? Given our innate rebelliousness, ‘joyful’ does not likely spring to mind. We have a hard time with obedience. There’s something deep within us that does not like being told what to do, at least without an avenue of appeal.

On the one hand, the inclination to disobey can be a good thing. It helps people resist the despotic behavior of power hungry men. Shiphrah and Puah, for example, two Hebrew midwives who ignored Pharaoh’s murderous orders are rewarded by God for their disobedience (Exodus 1:15-21). And the underground resistance movements of World War 2 did much to undermine Nazi Germany’s efforts to subjugate the continent. Not obeying can be good when what is being required is immoral.

But our relationship with God’s authority is another matter. He has set the terms of our existence and it is the case that there is no avenue of appeal when it comes to God’s laws. But unlike the self-promoting and self-protecting laws of tyrants, his are given out of love. In fact, his call to obedience is a call to joy. He knows what we were made for and how we can best experience the fullness of our humanity. So, why do human beings have such a problem with yielding to God’s rule? It’s the innate rebelliousness alluded to above. Even when blessing is promised for obedience and punishment for disobedience, we are unwilling to obey.

The situation changes, however, when, by faith, we are brought into union with Christ. Our lack of obedience has been filled up with Christ’s obedience and we possess a new relationship with God. Now, the fruit of salvation is ours for the harvesting. As a bonus, we are not on our own to pursue the expected obedience. We are told that God is at work in us changing our desires to conform to his desires and supplying the power we need to walk in his will. As Paul exhorts his beloved friends in Philippi: “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (2:12-13). Perhaps this is part of what delights Paul when at the very beginning of his letter he writes,  “I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all making my prayer with joy, because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now” (1:3-5). He knows the joy that’s in store for them as they pursue the will of God together. 

Obedience is ________. How do you fill in the blank? By God's grace you can say, 'joyful.'

Standing Firm

I know you’ve experienced it. You’re standing among non-Christians, you may or may not know them, when the topic of Christianity comes up. A disparaging or inaccurate comment is made about Christ or his church and you debate within yourself, “Should I say something? I don’t want to get into an argument. I certainly don’t want things to get ugly. Should I speak up? If I do, what will these people think?” Whether we open our mouths or not, the mere fact that we have an internal debate indicates our awareness that in many circles possessing faith in Christ is not a résumé enhancement.

Feeling marginalized due to our confession of Christ is an increasingly common phenomenon. It’s a form of persecution (albeit a mild one). And the more one gets pushed to the margins, the more one feels that holding fast to that which is prompting the persecution is futile. The pressure to abandon the faith increases. But the abandonment does not take so blunt a form as cursing Christ and being done with it. It’s subtler than that. It’s leaving out the bits that cause problems. It’s majoring on issues that are palatable to the opposing populace. It’s trying really hard to blend in. It’s engaging in unilateral compromise.

The theological drift is always toward liberalism. Feeling its exclusivity and holiness the tendency is to substitute comfort food for the robust fare of the Bible. The result, succinctly described by H. Richard Niebuhr, is a message that challenges and changes no one: “A God without wrath [brings] people without sin into a kingdom without judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a cross.”

As the pages of Scripture attest, the pressure to yield our confession of faith has always plagued the church. The writer of Hebrews famously instructs his readers to “hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering” (10:23). When Paul writes the believers in Philippi he feels compelled to exhort them to “[stand] firm in one spirit, with one mind” as they strive “side by side for the faith of the gospel . . . not frightened in anything by your opponents” (1:27-28). Recall Peter in the precincts of Pilate pushing aside any notion that he was somehow associated with Jesus; then the rooster crowed prompting bitter tears (Matthew 26:75). I’m not sure what form it will take for us beyond what I’ve pictured above, but we shouldn’t be surprised if we run up against stiff opposition. The challenge will be to stand firm, striving for the faith of the gospel.

What's It Worth?

Christianity is not for the faint of heart. At least that’s the impression I get from reading the epistles or the teachings of Jesus. No matter what portion of the New Testament one reads it isn’t long before the subject of suffering for the cause of Christ becomes part of the discussion. It shouldn’t surprise me, I suppose, given the fact that the one we follow was executed.

Jesus provokes controversy. And it’s not unusual for those who follow him to find themselves in trouble. The litany of Paul’s troubles (see, for example, 2 Corinthians 11:24-27) testifies to the breadth of difficulties that can attend someone who has given his life to Christ. Yet, despite the fact that Paul finds himself in unwanted, even perilous circumstances, he rejoices (see Philippians 1:12). How? Paul’s ability to rejoice while enduring persecution grows from his profound appreciation of the gospel. Like the man who stumbled upon the treasure, or the merchant who came across a pearl of unprecedented beauty, he was willing to give up everything, including his life, in order to possess Christ.  Why is the gospel so precious to him? Because he knew that grace was just that, grace, and it had been extended even to him.

It’s notable how often Paul’s persecution of the church is referred to in his writings. The depth of this sinfulness seems never to have left him, at least on this side of glory. Even in one of his last writings he remarks, “I was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent “(1 Timothy 1:13), an echo of a previous statement in which he confesses, “I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God” (1 Corinthians 15:9). I think it’s this persistent memory that fuels his cherishing of the gospel. He knew that God had granted him an eternity that he did not deserve and rescued him from one that he did.

I haven’t participated in the arrest and execution of any of Jesus’ disciples, but my mocking and blasphemous tongue made me as worthy of condemnation as Paul. But God in his grace rescued me from myself. I pray I will treasure the gospel with the same warmth as Paul so that I can whole-heartedly serve him, whatever the circumstance, and confess with the apostle, “. . . to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”

A Paradoxical People

A church is a paradox; a paradox made up of paradoxical people. It is an entity that is at once infinitely indestructible and incredibly fragile. It is strong because an infinitely strong God has brought it into being and is at work in it. It is weak because it is made up of people who are subject to the maladies that attend universal sin. Possessing no inherent power to do what God wants us to do, we must look to God’s power and grace.

That being said, the weakness that can often hobble a church is not to be accommodated. Paul’s letters are full of exhortations that, in one way or the other, enjoin us to walk away from the old self and toward the new. The old “belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires,” while the new is “created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Ephesians 4:22-23). In the opening sentences of his letter to the Philippians he puts it this way: “it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God” (Philippians 1:9-11).

As his letters readily attest, the local church is the venue in which much of this growth is to take place. For instance, the above prayer ties the ability to approve what is excellent, which leads to a maturing walk “filled with the fruit of righteousness,” to ever-increasing love among the saints at Philippi. Why is this so? If those in a church can discover what it means to love, idolatrous self-interest will give way to God honoring interest for the other. We then begin to look like Jesus who “made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant” so that we could be saved from our sinful, self-absorbed selves (2:7).

Remarkably, Paul is confident that this will be realized in the church in Philippi because “he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (1:6). But it involves embracing the challenge to “work out [our] own salvation with fear and trembling” (2:12). It seems that if we will respond with faith, seeking to “approve what is excellent,” we can become a little less paradoxical, possessing a strength that will be “to the glory and praise of God” (1:11).

The Big Issue

When the followers of Jesus began to speak “as the Spirit gave them utterance” in languages not their own, those who heard them were perplexed. Jesus' disciples were mostly made up of Galileans, a people not known for their erudition. Yet, here they were telling “the mighty works of God” in the tongues of others. A strange occurrence.

The New Testament is full of strange occurrences. People are raised from the dead. Incurable diseases suddenly vanish. Demons manifest. Angels appear. Voices come out from clouds. Who is at the center of all these strange goings on? Jesus, who himself walks on water, causes violent storms to obey his voice, and feeds multitudes with the first century equivalent of a “happy meal.”

All of these phenomena attest to the reality of who Jesus was – God in the flesh. And what was taking place on Pentecost only confirmed this truth. Jesus had promised that he would send the Holy Spirit when he returned to the right hand of his Father. With the Spirit’s arrival, the logical conclusion was that he was where he said he would be. This has ultimate significance.

The founding pastor of Neighborhood Church, Roger Fulton, was fond of saying, “Jesus is the big issue.” What was he implying? Jesus cannot be ignored. The record of his existence is present in the Bible and it calls for a decision. Is he a charlatan, a failed revolutionary, a mystic, or perhaps just an ordinary man upon whom people have projected their own longings? Roger’s assertion is reflected in the response of some of those who witnessed the fruit of the Spirit’s blessing. They wondered, “What does this mean?” The right question! And one that reveals people with humble and teachable hearts. Peter’s answer cut such to the quick: “Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.”

As Roger intimates, this same question needs to be asked by all. Brushing away the biblical testimony with a dismissive equivalent to “they are filled with new wine” is inexcusable – and spiritually fatal. The teachable ones on Pentecost had their eyes opened to the truth of Jesus and their own folly. They pleaded, “Brothers, what shall we do?” Peter’s answer sufficed for them and will suffice for contemporary penitents: “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.”

He is the big issue. What's your decision?

He Ascended into Heaven

This past Lord’s Day was Ascension Sunday, an aspect of Jesus’ earthly ministry that receives little attention compared to his birth, death, and resurrection. The above title is a phrase from the Apostles’ Creed. The phrase, in the words of Swiss theologian Karl Barth, rounds off “a whole series of perfects: begotten, conceived, born, suffered, crucified, dead, buried, descended, rose again,” and leads into “a new time which is our present time, the time of the Church, the end-time, inaugurated and founded by the work of Jesus Christ.” Therein lies the significance of the ascension. It signals the completion of Christ’s earthly ministry and sets the stage for the work he has been doing through his people ever since.

How is the mission of the church enabled by the ascension? In the first place, it validates the one whom we proclaim. Jesus being taken from their sight in a cloud is a strong echo of previous manifestations of God’s presence. In Scripture, the glory cloud was not an atmospheric phenomenon; it indicated that God was among his people. Secondly, upon his return to heaven, Jesus, as promised, poured out the Holy Spirit upon the waiting church so that it would be empowered to carry the good news to the ends of the earth. Thirdly, Jesus bodily presence in heaven affords the church the great comfort of knowing that our own heavenly future is guaranteed. Seated with him in heavenly places, by reason of our union with Christ, we labor here on earth confident of our own glorification as the King of kings leads us on in God’s victorious plan. Lastly, as we labor our High Priest intercedes for us, providing our justification and facilitating our sanctification.

The significance of the ascension cannot be overstated. It is, in the words of one theologian, “the necessary complement and completion of the resurrection. Christ’s transition to the higher life of glory, begun in the resurrection, was perfected in the ascension.” As such, it is the source of our confidence as we serve in this life the one who possesses a name above all names, as well as a precursor to our own perfection and glorification.