The Glory of His Grace

There are those times when, despite the use of God-appointed means, joy seems to tarry. Darkness hovers all about us, and there is a serious threat to our souls that we stop doing what is clearly our duty to do. 

How do we press on when joy escapes us? We think and pray like the psalmist: 

“Restore our fortunes, O LORD, like streams in the Negeb! Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him” (Psalm 126:4-6). 

The real question in view is, ‘How do we plow and sow the seed of the Word in our hearts in seasons when heart work is tremendously hard work?’ Clearly our hearts need the work, for without breaking up the fallow ground or planting the seeds of the Word, there will be no rich harvest of joy in God. But what do we do when that work doesn’t seem to be producing any fruit? 

We listen to Scripture in faith. We keep sowing, and we keep plowing through the fields of our hearts, all the while with tears streaming down our brokenhearted faces, knowing that God has promised: as you keep laboring over your heart according to Scripturally appointed means, God will bring joy. 

Yes, there are times when it seems like all the work we do in our hearts is coming to nothing. But, ultimately, God who dwells richly in us through His Spirit will produce a harvest of righteousness through sanctification. So we don’t hide our sorrow. Instead, we keep on sowing, trusting in God’s promise: He who goes out weeping and sowing will come home with shouts of joy. 

There is a dark night, but there is always the light of the morning. 

What could be better, after a long day of meetings, than coming home, enjoying some time in the Word and with Bishop Ryle, and then being delightfully amused by my son?

Thanks to the grandparents’ book purchase, he is learning animal noises. And the one he has down pat?

“What sound does a lion make?”

“RAHHHHHHH!”

I think that might have been one of the best moments of my day. Thank God for unexpected smiles, from unexpected things.   

Jesus said that he was not honored in his home town, among his closest family and friends. 

“A prophet is not without honor except in his hometown and in his own household” (Matt. 13:57). 

What struck me about this passage is that those who are often times most familiar with Jesus are most prone to unbelief. But why? 

It’s because they see Him all the time, and instead of responding in awe and faith, they merely say, “Yeah, there goes Jesus again, doing another miracle.” They have become so acquainted with Jesus that He doesn’t awe them anymore. 

I am reminded in my own life that, especially in the ministry, it is easy to become so familiar with the holy things of God that they no longer become awesome, faith-inspiring, joy-producing works of God. So what do we do? 

The same thing Jesus did—not because He was bored with Himself, but because He had weighty things going on in His life, like the death of his friend John the Baptist: 

“Now when Jesus heard [that John was beheaded], he withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by himself” (Matt. 14:13). 

And, when we meet Jesus in a desolate place, just like the crowd that followed Him there, we are fed in abundance: 

“And they all ate and were satisfied” (Matt. 14:20). 

There is a time to minister. But there is also a time to go away, to a desolate place, and be fed spiritually by Jesus and renewed in the things of God. 

The inadequacies pastors feel have, up until now, been a somewhat distant (yet real) theme for me. But now, after preaching and laboring amidst God’s people, I understand Paul’s cry: 

“For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life. Who is sufficient for these things?” (2 Cor. 2:15-16). 

Who is sufficient to be the aroma of God? Who is sufficient to proclaim God’s perfect and wondrous Word to the church and to the world? Who is sufficient even to have a part, though but a means, to the spread of the aroma of God’s glory in Christ throughout the world? Not me.

But, Sunday afternoon, the soul cries out for the living God (Psalm 42:1, ff.), and these words are like a stream of cool, refreshing water on a parched land:

“[The knowledge of God's providence] cannot but bring strong security to the soul, to know that in all variety of changes and intercourse of good and bad events, God, and our God, [has] such a disposing hand. Whatsoever befalls us, all serves to bring God’s electing love, and our glorification together, God’s providence [serves] this purpose to save us…God [often] [disposes] little occasions to great purposes” (Soul’s Conflict, Sibbes, p. 206).   

Not in our sufficiency or strength, nor in our wisdom, but in the wisdom and power of God do we draw the courage to speak oracles of God, for His glory. And what hope this is, that even in the weakest, smallest effort to do justice to God’s Word, He is often pleased to do His bidding. 

In the desire to honor a long line of men who wore facial hair proudly and honored Christ with their bold proclamation of His gospel, this blog is whole-heartedly bearded friendly. We honor the preaching of such men as Charles Spurgeon and George Muller when we wear the beard, and wear it proudly. So, for all those who lug their beard into the pulpit with grandeur and the doctrines of grace (minus Lincoln, maybe, but it’s Lincoln!), this one goes to you. 

George, doing preachers of the gospel right around the world; Muller invented the Emerging haircut!

Spurgeon, classic. He didn’t invent the beard, but I think he invented preaching. 

Sibbes, my man! Not so sure about the hat.

Perkins, the innovater! 

And of course, Lincoln, who invented the beard. Or re-invented it. 

Wear the beard. Preach Christ. Help people see the infinite worth of the character of God in the substitutionary death of Jesus.