An unruly spirit

After exhorting his hearers that we must “trust [God] in all conditions and times, for all things that we stand in need of, until that time comes, wherein we shall stand in need of nothing,” because “as the same care of God moved him to save us, and to preserve us in the world till we be put in possession of salvation; so the same faith relies upon God for heaven and all necessary provision till we come [there],” Richard Sibbes makes this profound comment: 

“The unruliness of a natural spirit is never discovered more, than when God defers” (Sibbes, The Soul’s Conflict with Itself, vol. 1, p. 215). 

In the necessities of life, God ordains things so that we are dependent upon Him. But Sibbes’ point cuts to my heart—a statement that can be paraphrased this way: 

“When we get what we want, we seem content and obedient. But when God doesn’t immediately give us what we want and we throw an extended temper tantrum, it reveals the disobedience that was already in our heart. We become restless when we don’t get what we want.” 

I find myself here often. I think it’s the same place Adam and Esau found themselves, namely, desiring the pleasure of food over the pleasure of knowing and obeying God. I want and do not get, so I pout, spew venomous words, and do exactly what I know I’m not supposed to do. We find out about the rebellion that is in our hearts most when God says no. 

For this I deserve hell—the eternal outpouring of God’s full and furious wrath against me. But here’s where I stand amazed: not only did Christ die for this sin, but He obeyed the Father exactly where I have failed, earning my good standing before God. He stood condemned in my place so that I could stand accepted before the Father. Here’s one example. 

In John 4, while the disciples were driven by hunger into town to get some food after a long journey, Jesus remained at a well in Samaria where He proceeded to turn an adulterous woman into a worshiper of the Living God. For Jesus, the spiritual nourishment of obeying His Father exceeded the pleasure He could have derived from eating a meal. That’s why He said, “I have food to eat that you do not know about… My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work” (Jn. 4:32, 34). 

And then it strikes you: like Adam and Esau, the disciples chose food over obedience. But Christ chose obedience over food, which means that my obedience—what God sees now when He looks on me—is perfect. God no longer looks on me and sees my choosing food or sex or earthly things over Him; instead, because of the life and death of Christ in my place, He sees perfect obedience. 

So the prayer is not, ‘Help me to obey so that I can be accepted before God.’ Instead, it’s ‘Thank you that Christ died for my sin of disobedience, and that He obeyed perfectly. Thank you that you have united me to Him by faith; help me, since I am one with Christ, to become what I already am: someone who chooses the pleasure of God over everything else.‘

Needy is the Best Place to Be

While the world continues on its kick about self-autonomy, independence, and self-reliant living, Jesus turns the world upside down. Instead, it’s those who realize their desperate need and who go to Jesus that are truly happy. 

The two blind men in Matthew 20, fully aware of their desperate need of Christ, cry out more and more in the face of a taunting, rebuking crowd. 

“Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!” The crowd rebuked them, telling them to be silent, but they cried out all the more” (vv. 30-31).

The men’s plea for mercy shows that they knew that God didn’t owe them anything, but rather, that they could only ask on the ground of His generosity. They are aware of their need, and they are aware of Christ’s power.  

The question is, what makes a person bold in approach to Christ in the face of ridicule—fearless of what man may say or think or do to him? 

The answer is desperate need coupled with knowledge of one’s own wretchedness before God and confidence in the gracious character of God (Ps. 145:8-9). The blind men were fearless about the crowd because they knew how helplessly sick and diseased they were, and they knew that Jesus could heal them. 

Men dying of cancer don’t delay in going to the doctor, no matter what others say. 

So, turning the world on its head, Jesus blesses those who know they are needy, who know that they can’t merit God’s salvation, and who trust that God is gracious to give them abundantly all that they desire. 

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 5:3).

Needy is the best place to be before a generous and loving God whose blessing we can never earn.

The Greatest News in the World

For those who consider themselves as nothing, renouncing every form of selfishness and pride, who mourn for their sin, who consider others of more importance, and for those who feel the hunger pains of yearning to be made into the image of the holy God and unlike the character of our indwelling sin (Matt. 5:3-6), this is the best news in the world. It is, as Martyn Lloyd-Jones writes, the heart of the gospel:

“To hunger and thirst really means to be desperate, to be starving, to feel life is ebbing out, to realize my urgent need of help… Let us look briefly at what is promised to those who are like that… ‘They shall be filled’, they shall be given what they desire. The whole gospel is there. That is where the gospel of grace comes in; it is entirely the gift of God. You will never fill yourself with righteousness, you will never find blessedness apart from Him. To obtain this, ‘all the fitness He requireth, is to see your need of Him’, nothing more” (Sermon on the Mount, p. 68).

ML-J goes on about the reality of justification in the life of one such believer:

“If you believe on that cross He was dying for you and for your sin, you have been forgiven; you have no need to ask for forgiveness, you have been forgiven… the righteousness of Christ is imputed to you. God looks at you in the righteousness of Christ and He no longer sees the sin. He sees you as a sinner whom He has forgiven… The Christian, therefore, should always be a man who knows that his sins are forgiven. He should not be seeking it, he should know that he has it, that he is justified in Christ freely by the grace of God, that he stands righteous at this moment in the presence of the Father” (Sermon on the Mount, p. 69). 

This blessed truth—that we are justified in Christ apart from anything we do—is the freedom of the Christian to pursue holiness, knowing that it is freely given to him. He pursues it not as a wage, but as a gift. 

“The Christian is one who at one and the same time is hungering and thirsting, and yet he is filled. And the more he is filled the more he hungers and thirsts. That is the blessedness of this Christian life” (Ibid, p. 70). 

 

 

God Saves Sinners. I am the foremost.

In preparation for some pastoral work this summer in Boulder, Colorado, I have been collecting and reading (or re-reading) some great books on the pastorate and the work of the preacher. They are all books that I would say are “life-changing.” On the list are Between Two Worlds, Preaching and Preachers, The Supremacy of God and Preaching, The Cross of Christ, The Reformed Pastor, and The Cross and Christian Ministry.

Much to my surprise, however, what’s been radically impacting my life isn’t input from some of the best preachers and pastors in Christian history. Rather, it’s been the best Preacher in the universe—Christ Himself.

Really it just shows my pride. In my desire to make something of myself I gathered a bunch of books, compiling the “perfect” list that would equip me for the job. What I’ve been finding, instead, is that only God can equip, and He does it by faith, not by my works. I think what I really wanted was to make myself a good pastor and then boast about it. I would say God looks on and laughs, but when I read how the LORD killed Nadab and Abihu for trying to add to His works (Lev. 10:1-3), I don’t think it’s laughter He feels.

In the midst of all of this, the LORD has been showing me a radically different kind of preparation—not about preaching, catechizing, counseling, or even passion in the pulpit—no, in His great love, the LORD has been teaching me poverty of spirit, mourning over my sin, meekness, and (thus far) the hunger for His righteousness (Matt. 5:3-6). Sinclair Ferguson writes,

“Our greatest temptation and mistake is to try to smuggle character into his work of grace. How easily we fall into the trap of assuming that we remain justified only so long as there are grounds in our character for that justification” (The Christian Life, pp. 82-83).

So, while there are many great books to be read, and many great preachers to learn from, there is one Preacher who demands my attention, and He has preached perhaps the greatest sermon of all time at the Mount (and it’s shredding my Pharisaic heart right now!). He is calling me always back to the first thing, that Christ died for my sins (1 Cor. 15:3). 

Once again, I have found that the first and most important thing has become the easiest to forget. But by God’s grace, He never lets His children make it very far from the cross. And now that’s where I find myself, ashamed at the wickedness of my sin and awake to the fact that God Saves Sinners, of which I am the foremost. What a Savior.

So this blog begins where I begin: a great sinner in need of a Greater Savior.