by Jon Eric Woodward | Jun 26, 2019 | Worship
On those days that you just don’t feel like rolling out of
bed on a Sunday morning, and I’ve been there many times myself, let me assure
you, it’s worth it! I’ll also confess gladly, that there has rarely, if ever,
been a time where I regretted afterwards that I pushed through and came. This is not a push to guilt anyone into
coming to church. Please understand! In
the same way that God desires that we give and serve from a glad
and joyful heart, I believe He desires that we come together with glad
hearts. We may not start from a place of
gladness, but hopefully, prayerfully and expectantly we’ll get there!! It does
start, often, from an attitude of obedience.
But obedience leads to joy most often.
In our Western culture of over emphasis on only doing what makes us feel
good at the time, we in the church often fall prey to that thinking. Thoughts like, “Oh, I just don’t feel like
going today” or “I don’t really need to go” or “The series we are in right now
doesn’t really appeal to me”, etc. all point to the self-centered approach we
often take towards the regular gathering together of God’s people for prayer, worship, taking
communion, experiencing someone’s baptism, encouragement and edification in the
Word (both of others and us). So why is gathering together regularly so
important?
First, Jesus modeled it. We see this in His own relationship within
the Trinity: Father, Son & Holy Spirit. From eternity past, the Father, Son
and Holy Spirit dwelt in perfect unity, harmony and fellowship. There was unity
in oneness. There was unbroken fellowship and joy within the godhead. And as John Piper says in Desiring God, “the eternal happiness of the triune God spilled over in the work of creation
and redemption”. Jesus also modeled this
in His earthly life as He gathered for worship in the synagogue regularly
(Matthew 4:23, 9:35). Jesus was with
people, engaging people, listening to and conversing with people generally, but
also at set times. It was His habit to
gather regularly with people in the temple courts, the synagogues and in homes.
Second to His love of being with His Father, was His being with us! Jesus came
to be with us (Emmanuel, God with us!)
Second, the people of God modeled it. We see this
clearly in the early church in the book of Acts (2:42-47). They lived together in community. They hung out together. They shared their
stuff together. They worshipped
together. They took meals together. They
listened to the teaching of God’s Word together. They served together. They
took communion together, and all of these things done regularly but together. They, like God, experienced great and
deep abiding joy as they lived life together. There was an amazing joy of being together in
worship and doing life together. They also suffered through the trials of life
together.
Third, the Scriptures model and call us to this. Hebrews
10:24-25 calls us to come together regularly and to not forsake the
assembling of ourselves together as is the habit of some. Oh, the deep joy,
peace, contentment and power we often miss when we refuse to gather together
regularly. Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his
book Life Together says, “The physical presence of other believers is
a source of incomparable joy and strength to the believer. How else can we stir one another to love and
good deeds unless we meet together? And when we meet, it should not be for glib
conversation but for godly consecration, centered around the Word of God and
prayer to God. And all the more as we see the Day of His return drawing nigh!”
So, brothers and sisters, I encourage you to continue to
come together regularly! It is for God’s glory and your good. I highly
recommend Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s short but powerful book, Life Together.
by Susan Black | Jun 18, 2019 | Uncategorized
When I was a young girl, I had a peculiar food quirk that in hindsight was probably a mild annoyance to my mom. She was an excellent cook (still is at age 88) and made all of our meals from scratch – I’m not sure I ever saw a recipe on our kitchen counter. My childish requests those many years ago included pecan pie without the pecans, banana pudding without the bananas, and chocolate meringue pie without the meringue. I didn’t want anything to distract from the sticky sweetness of the pecan pie filling, the creaminess of the banana custard, or the richness of the homemade chocolate pudding.
As an adult, I’ve discovered
that there is another version of my childhood idiosyncrasy, but it’s certainly
not as inconsequential. In the same way that I requested desserts without the
ingredients which were undesirable to me, I now prefer a life without the
hassle of petty inconveniences, relationships without the messiness of
vulnerability and sacrifice, and circumstances without the heartache of
suffering and loss. I don’t want anything to interrupt the ease and
predictability of a life that goes my way.
The purposes of
suffering and trials in the life of a believer are manifold: pruning for
fruit-bearing, greater perseverance and compassion, being made more like
Christ, etc. But the purpose of suffering that I want to focus on is that of
strengthening and deepening our faith – a faith that can be described as the
capacity to increasingly interpret our lives and circumstances with a God-given
spiritual sight.
In Aaron’s recent
message on “Transformed Affections,” he made this statement: “I think the reason that the things we see become more valuable to us
than delighting in God is because they’re more tangible. We have access to them
physically from a sensory experience that rivals the presence of God.” Aaron
was speaking of our delight in God as our primary source of pleasure. But this
is also true as we consider God as the object of our faith – a God who is the
fountainhead of our hope and comfort in suffering and trouble. When we
encounter trials, it’s almost a reflex to look for help in people and things
which we can see and hear and taste and feel: trusted friends, a healthy bank
balance, comfort food, and physical well-being. As Aaron said, the tangible
nature of sensory experiences rivals the unseen presence of God.
When God grants us
faith at our new birth, that gift of faith is not fully mature. The development
of our faith happens as a process of spiritual growth and transformation that
God promises to us when He makes us His own. Just as our children develop
through the stages of infancy and
childhood to adolescence and adulthood, God takes us through a process of
growth from spiritual infancy to maturity. It’s a beautiful picture of His
faithfulness and commitment to us, but it more often than not involves
suffering and painful trials.
The development of
our faith increases our spiritual capacity and ability to behold the unseen. In
this earthly life, we are prone to delight in the tangible. What we see, feel,
and hear is right in front of us and we physically and emotionally cling to it
as we encounter burdens and heartaches which seem grievous, tedious, and too
heavy to bear. So, in order to break this vise grip on what we can see with our
physical eyes, God mercifully works to develop and mature our faith – the
“spiritual vision” that enables us to see the intangible and respond
to the eternal promises that anchor our hope in the Rock of Ages.
Matthew Henry speaks
eloquently of this indispensible spiritual sense: “Faith demonstrates to the eye of the mind the reality of those
things that cannot be discerned by the eye of the body….Faith is designed to
serve the believer instead of sight, and to be to the soul all that the senses
are to the body.”
Again, faith is the
spiritual sense that enables us to behold the unseen. But without a maturing
faith, we are left with a frail and powerless hope in things that will never
answer our deepest needs.
Here’s the thing: It
takes some shaking up to break our natural focus on what can be physically seen.
Trials and suffering are regularly God’s chosen instruments to accomplish this
task. But because we are averse to the pain of suffering, we pray diligently
and earnestly for God to remove the very instruments He’s using in our lives to
establish and strengthen our faith. His purpose is to increase the capacity of
our faith to respond to the unseen, but we cling ever more tightly to what we
can see.
When Rob was
diagnosed with cancer, our emotional reflex was shock and disbelief. Those responses quickly morphed into fear and
distress. We were beholding and responding to the seen. Our responses were
normal and natural. But in God’s grace, He didn’t leave us there. He began His
merciful work in our hearts to increase our capacity to behold the unseen.
We had to repeat this
lesson over and over during our journey with cancer. I remember so well one
particular visit to Duke Eye Center. It was after Rob’s initial surgery, and
the first part of the examination was to check his vision. Rob was instructed
to cover his right eye and then to read as much of the eye chart as he was able
to see. With dismay, Rob responded that he couldn’t even see the eye chart. We
didn’t know it at the time, but as a result of the trauma of the surgery, Rob’s
retina had become detached leaving him temporarily blind in his left eye.
I sat in a chair in the corner of that
examining room focusing on what was before me. With tears running down my
cheeks, I grieved for all that cancer was taking from us. But God’s promise was
to give us greater spiritual sight – a fuller comprehension and experience of the
unseen. As great as the temptation was to focus on our loss, faith was training
us to see with spiritual eyes all that we had to gain in the difficult
circumstances God had appointed for us.
Just recently, I
awoke in the night with a nagging anxiety in my heart for my youngest son,
Philip. He and his wife are new parents and are experiencing the sleepless
nights that many of us remember so well. The fear in my heart was because of my
focus on the seen: When Philip was a young teenager, he was diagnosed with a
seizure disorder for which he will have to take medication for the rest of his
life. He has been seizure-free for years, but one of the main triggers for him
is sleep deprivation. I’ve seen enough seizures to last a life-time, and my
wakefulness exposed a heart that was dwelling on the dreaded possibility that
he might once again be subject to seizures.
Because this blog
post had been bouncing around in my head for several days, I realized quickly
what was transpiring in my heart. I turned on my light, pulled my Bible into my
lap, and opened it up to Psalm 40. I prayed that God would help me change my focus
from the seen to the unseen. I prayed that He would increase and strengthen the
capacity of my faith – that I would dwell on truth rather than on
circumstances. Verses 11 and 17 particularly spoke to my middle-of-the-night trembling
heart: “As for You, O Lord, You will
not restrain Your mercy from me; Your steadfast love and Your faithfulness will
ever preserve me!…As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought
for me. You are my help and my deliverer; do not delay, O my God!”
As I prayed through
these verses, God dispelled the anxiety in my heart. No circumstances had
changed, no assurance had been given that Philip would never again have another
seizure, but my faith was strengthened to believe God’s promises – that His
mercy, steadfast love and faithfulness would preserve us, and that He would not
delay in giving us the help that we would need in every eventuality. The peace
born of faith once again ruled in my heart.
In his first epistle,
the apostle Peter says, “Blessed be the God and
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has
caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection
of Jesus Christ from the dead, to obtain an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade
away, reserved in heaven for you, who
are protected by the power of
God through faith for a
salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.”
These verses are replete with faith-building
truth. But one of the main points is that we are protected by the power of
God through
faith. This is why it is one of God’s great priorities to develop,
deepen, quicken, strengthen, and establish our faith. It protects our
vulnerable hearts in this sin-broken, idol-polluted world. And trials are a
necessary ingredient in the establishment of our faith. Trials increase the
capacity of our faith to behold the unseen – to recognize and experience the truth
of God’s promises to us, and to become vessels through whom He can offer life
and hope to others. Matthew Henry says that “faith
is a sovereign preservative of the soul.” The difficulties we
encounter in this life are God’s way of giving us that kind of faith.
James, the brother of Jesus, wrote that we should
consider it joy when we encounter trials. The author of Hebrews mentions
Christians who joyfully accepted the seizure of their property because their
focus was on the unseen promise of a better possession. The apostle Paul gladly
boasted about his weaknesses because of His experience of the power of God’s
grace. Our Lord endured the cross because of the joy set before Him. In each of
these cases, and in innumerable others, the focus is on the unseen. Our capacity
for spiritual sight is increased through the trials and suffering that we
embrace and endure in this temporary vapor of life.
When my faith is strengthened and quickened by
the experience of suffering, then it becomes more vigorous than the physical
senses by which I experience and interpret the world around me. My spiritual
reflexes – my choices, my responses, and my perceptions – increasingly become fueled by faith rather
than by sight. I am moved and motivated by the promises in God’s Word rather
than by the troubling circumstances that vie for my attention and emotion.
I am so grateful for this gift of developing
faith – the increasing capacity to behold the unseen. Our spiritual sight isn’t
yet 20/20, but Scripture promises that one day it will be: “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I
know in part, but then I shall know fully just as I also have been fully
known.”
Charles Spurgeon exulted in the day when his faith
would be made sight: “Oh, to burst
open the door of our Joseph’s granaries, and see the plenty which He hath
stored up for us! This will overwhelm us with love. By faith, we see as in a
glass darkly, the reflected image of His unbounded treasures, but when we shall
actually see the heavenly things themselves, with our own eyes, how deep will
be the stream of fellowship in which our soul shall bathe itself! Till then our
loudest sonnets shall be reserved for
our loving benefactor, Jesus Christ our Lord, whose love to us is
wonderful.”
Oh Lord, increase our faith, that we might behold
the glorious unseen!
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