Part 4- What are the Seven cries of the cross?

1. Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do
2. 6th hour- Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.
3. Woman, behold thy son! , Behold thy mother!
4. 9th hour- My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?
5. I thirst
6. It is finished
7. Into thy hands I commit my Spirit

My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Picture Jesus at this point. Beforehand, he remonstrated Peter, probably confusing Peter, who in his flesh I think had determined to protect to the death Jesus. When Jesus was arrested, Peter takes a bold swipe with his sword and Jesus bids him to stop—explaining to Peter that if Jesus wanted protection he had but to ask of the Father who would send more than twelve legions of angels. He has been whipped, beaten by professional soldiers, had his hands and feet nailed to a cross, but only after being forced to carry his own cross. He was mocked, ridiculed, and tried twice illegally, in the dead of night. At any point, the Bible tells us that he could have but prayed to his Father and had legions of angels by his side to deliver him. Yet, he allows himself to be strapped to the cross, and bears it willingly, praying for those around him, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” He notices women weeping for him while carrying the cross, and blood streaming into his face, he looks at the women, probably including his own mother, and he tells them not to weep for him, but rather for themselves and the coming judgment. He has looked upon John, his best friend, and has given him custodial care of his mother, and now the hour is come for which he is sent into the world. But just before that hour, the thief on the cross recognizes that he is being crucified with the Son of God, and declares his faith. Jesus takes the time from his deep agony to declare to the thief that he would soon be in Paradise with him.

The point is that up until now, the time of this awful cry to his Father, Jesus has been everything we would expect a Savior to be. He has never been concerned for himself, but is looking out for the thief, the soldiers, his mother, and even those who were weeping for him. He is not centered in himself; he is squarely centered in others, and this is not a normal reaction of someone to the brutal punishments he has had to endure, but it is everything we would expect from a Savior. So how do we explain this cry?

First, we should note that in his last cry he commits his spirit to his Father, indicating that he was still communing with God. So he was not broken in fellowship with the Father, at least not for more than a time. Scholars have long interpreted this passage as the time when the sins of the world were put into Jesus, thus crushing the presence of the Spirit of God. At that point, at that precise moment, Jesus felt himself emptied of the fellowship he had known with his Father.

Yes, he had been sent into the world for this very reason, but the cost was higher than Jesus had ever known. All of the energy that God put into the creation of the world, breathing life, wonderful and diverse life, into our world was as nothing to the price Jesus paid on the cross, for on the cross he gave his all, and giving his all, he had no more to give. People who do not think about it sometimes will wonder aloud why God does not do more to save the lost; there is no more to be done, for the highest price of all was paid that we who believe might be forever children of God.

The cry is an echo of Psalm 22, but perhaps it is more accurate to say that Psalm 22 was a prophecy echo of what was to come. Jesus took on the burdens of all of our sins, and indeed the Bible declares that he took on the sins of the whole world. Whosoever will may come, but only because the sacrifice is totally efficacious toward all those who will believe. God prepared a “free” way to heaven, but the cost, free to us, was not free to him. When we hear the echoes of this cry, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” we ought to be utterly compelled to lay ourselves humbly at the foot of that cross. He who gave his all for us has commanded us that we might take up our cross and follow him.

John the apostle, the beloved one, the one to whom Jesus was perhaps closer than anyone else, tells us that Jesus himself foretold his death. I wonder at the complete sovereignty of God, for here were evil men, willing to kill the Son of God that their nation might continue, and they freely chose their course, and it was the will of the Father that the Son lay down his life. Yet within all of that Jesus declares, “No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This commandment have I received of my Father” (John 10:18). We cannot explain how the choices of evil men in an evil world should paint the very portrait of the world which God has ordained, but neither are we expected to. Instead, God has ordained the death of his Son before the foundation of the world, and Jesus gave his life willingly, completing the will of his Father perfectly, and those men who opposed God with every fiber of their being, found themselves completing the perfect plan of God. It is a wonder beyond all wonders, for God makes it plain that he will hold responsible those who acted so evilly, yet still it completes the plan of God perfectly.

I am reminded of Psalm Two, where God declares that he laughs in derision at the plans of all the kings and leaders of our world, and I am also reminded of Psalm 109, where the fate of Judas, the one who betrayed Jesus, is so plainly discussed. God is sovereign, and yet he will judge us for our actions. He judges us in complete justice, holding us responsible for that which we do, for he sees our hearts better than we do ourselves. But the judgment only makes sense as we have choices, and choices that we are held to account for.

Is this not the course of our present world? Over and over again, we see men making choices, and yet the sovereign plan of God is not affected. It is no accident that men in history saw the need for the Balfour Declaration, that Israel should be regathered after all these centuries. It is no accident that we see the sentiments of the entire world beginning to focus on abandoning this nation to its fate. We should always keep in mind this dual focus of God, that his will is always done, even in the evil plans of men, but he will always righteously and justly hold us responsible for our actions. It is no accident that the Bible commands us to pray for the peace of Jerusalem, and those nations that fail to support Israel will be judged for that lack of support. The will of God will be done, but woe to those who lift a hand against Israel. Historically, it might be well to remember that those who have stood against this little nation have been used of God to bring judgment, and yet, they themselves are judged for daring to take on this least of nations.

I also think of a spiritual application. The saint, having believed in God is told to, and is empowered by the Spirit to turn from his sins. Yet, he still has a choice. He can choose to participate in sin. I have done that. Those times I have done what Paul has commanded us not to. I have quenched the Spirit of God. My cry becomes, at those times, like that of Jesus, and I ask God why he has forsaken me. The way of restoration every time for the saint is to confess, to agree with God, that the sin is sin, and then the Father will freely forgive me and renew me in his Spirit.

But the feeling of abandonment when I sin consciously and of my own volition is total. I can get very used to walking in the Spirit and having his fellowship. If the Bible is to be believed, God has given us his Spirit for all of eternity, but at those bleak times of sin, the sense of being alone, the feeling of being lost and without his leadership is complete. We become like the ship without a rudder in a stormy sea, bereft of the guidance that we need to continue our course. For the Christian, God is faithful, and will restore his Spirit to us every time when we confess. For Jesus, of course there was no need of confession. His was the perfect life, before the Father, the angels, and all of mankind, that we might realize God himself cared so much for us that he was willing to take on this separation.

For I think, multiplied many times, this is exactly what happened in that moment to Jesus. He, who had been in complete fellowship with the Triune God for all of eternity, found sin to be the sword which cut off that fellowship. I will never be able to estimate or talk of that complete loss, for I simply cannot fathom what that was like. Philippians reminds us that Jesus emptied himself when he came in the flesh, making himself of no account. When the sins of the world at last were imputed on Jesus, he was really of no account, for the Father was judging him for our very misdeeds. And this was done that we might be forever free of judgment, that man and God might be restored to the fellowship of God’s design.

John 3:14 gives a wonderful picture of what God has done with the cross. To the Jewish people of his day, this must have provided a most powerful image, and if we will but reflect on it a bit today, it should be that same powerful image. Jesus said to Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews, and one who seemed to want to follow him, that, “as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that everyone who believes in him should have eternal life.” We have but to look and believe what was done to Jesus on that cross, and we will enjoy fellowship with the Father forever. He was forsaken simply for the reason that you and I might be found.

Part 3- What are the Seven cries of the cross?

1.Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do
2.6th hour- Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.
3.Woman, behold thy son! , Behold thy mother!
4.9th hour- My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?
5.I thirst
6.It is finished
7.Into thy hands I commit my Spirit

Woman, behold thy son! , Behold thy mother!

In one of the most touching cries of all seven cries from the cross, Jesus, without explanation, gives his mother’s care over to his best friend. John, perhaps the only witness of the scene of the cross, did not write his gospel until last of all, and it is not strange that no other gospel remembers this cry. Matthew may have been made on the strength of what was already written in Mark, and in any case, Luke, as the meticulous physician, does the best job of a non-witness to the cries on the cross, equaling the number of cries given to that of John. But it is not until John, writing his gospel in his old age, recalls so vividly this cry of his best friend. Indeed John seems to recall this cry with great vividness, but that is not so strange to me. An aside to his mother and best friend might well be expected. But the unasked question is strange. Why were the brothers of Jesus not given charge of their mother?

I think it may suggest a temporary split in the family over the very person of Jesus. There is not enough evidence to do more than just suggest that this might be a possibility, and on this side of heaven, we are not to know. But I will try to submit what we do know, and discuss its relevancy. We know that there is a time when the brothers of Jesus and his mother are seeking to find him, but Jesus not only seems to avoid them, but to almost insult them. Matthew (13:47 NIV) tells us that “Someone told him, “Your mother and brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.” In verse 48, Jesus replies with a question asking who is my mother and who are my brothers, hardly a respectful question, and the scripture is blank about them ever meeting with Jesus. Did they meet? Or was there a reason, unstated in the gospels, for Jesus to be avoiding them at the time?

What was going on in the life of Jesus at the time? We know from the gospels that early on in the ministry of Jesus he gathered opposition to his teaching. There were men who were the religious leaders who correctly saw him as a challenge to their leadership. The seven woes of the Pharisees are a famous indictment of this leadership, but I think they probably did not have to wait for Jesus to utter the seven woes to know an enemy. I am reaching beyond the text here, but what if those leaders, or someone influential who knew them, went to the family of Jesus and explained the problem?
I can quite imagine the conversation going something like this:

Leader: Well, you know this Jesus of yours is creating a great disturbance.
Family: Yes, we can see that he is attracting great crowds wherever he goes.
Leader: He is not very respectful of our venerated religious leaders either.
Family: No, there are times when he seems to insult them.
Leader: You know we are subject to Rome, but our own leaders are quite upset, and possibly may be forced to harm Jesus, especially if all these crowds keep up. The Romans, who knows what they will do? And it is not doing our nation any good right now.
Family: We understand that.
Leader: It may come to a place where the leaders will be forced to action. And then Rome may get involved. It is better for all of us if this problem would just go away.
Family: We understand. We will try to get Jesus to pull back for a while, and perhaps we will find a place to keep him quiet.
Leader: If you are going to do anything, I suggest sooner is better than later.

Again, I do not know that such a conversation, similar or varied, ever took place, but if it did, would that not explain the behavior of his brothers and his mother? His mother, of course, had divine intervention that this child was of God, and she knew that, but I would point out that mothers who have their children’s well-being threatened might do almost anything. His brothers had only whatever family tradition had given them, and apparently it was not enough. What if his family (Joseph, being absent is probably deceased) had decided to come and put him away? I can well imagine his skeptical brothers wanting to do the right thing for their mother’s peace, for the community, and because of political pressure. They may have thought that Jesus had lost it, and that it was their duty to save him by putting him away. By the time of the cross, his mother is there weeping at the foot of the cross, and perhaps wishing that she and his brothers had managed to put him away someplace safe. She was not to have understanding of what was happening until Sunday morning, when the tomb was found vacant. Perhaps she was the first to have faith in her family in the resurrected Lord.

But what of her brothers? I am not sure about Jude, for we are not told, but with his short epistle we have evidence that somewhere sometime he came to belief. But again, perhaps not at first. We are told something about James that stands out, and in Acts 15:7 and 8, Paul tells us that, “After that, he was seen of James; then of all the apostles. And last of all he was seen of me also, as of one born out of due time.” Why is James singled out here? Could it be that our Lord makes a special appearance that his own brother might believe? That James does believe is beyond dispute, and he becomes a renowned leader of the early church, but I do wonder about all the things that might have gone into the making of his belief. By the time of the beginning of Acts, both the mother of Jesus and his brothers are mentioned, and evidently by Pentecost they had all come to faith.

But enough speculation, for that is all that it is, and we need to deal with the scriptures we do have, not the ones that I may imagine. We know that Jesus gave his treasured mother to his treasured friend, both of whom watched him die, not understanding at all what was happening. Interestingly, this cry includes the last recorded words of Jesus to his mother. It is not known whether the risen Jesus ever spoke to his mother. I would assume that John faithfully told her all she needed to know, but the scripture is mostly silent on the mother of Jesus after this point.

I cannot help think that with the sovereignty of God that he may have been planning the best for his mother. John, scripture accords us, was the first to realize what the empty tomb meant, and first believed in the risen Lord. Luke does not tell us this part, but Luke does record Peter’s running to see the empty tomb. He leaves out the fact that John is also running to the tomb, and outran Peter to the tomb, stopping and looking at the grave clothes that were there. Peter charged ahead of him to the tomb itself and looked in first. John follows afterward, and records of himself (John 20:8) that he saw the tomb and believed.

I do further wonder at the Mariolatry that has been so prevalent throughout our church age, and perhaps that is why God saw fit to give no more information on the mother of God. Many sects have caused much grief to themselves through worship of Mary. As the mother of God, Mary should have the highest accord and honor, but all worship should be saved only for God himself. But is it not a marvel, that in this last of seven cries, Jesus takes care of his mother? And does anyone doubt that both Mary and John are presently before our Lord? Our God is good!

Part 2- What are the Seven cries of the cross?

1. Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do
2. 6th hour- Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.
3. Woman, behold thy son! , Behold thy mother!
4. 9th hour- My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?
5. I thirst
6. It is finished
7. Into thy hands I commit my Spirit

6th hour- Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.
The second cry from Jesus on the cross was made at the 6th hour. Now, when we read about the last week of Christ, we need to keep in mind that there are two time schemes going on here with the listing of chronological events. One such listing such as this one, is in Roman time. Roman time begins at 6 in the morning, and the hours are counted successively, so the sixth hour of the day would have been what we call today noon. Jewish time, however, begins at 6 in the evening. Thus, Christ had to be taken off of the cross before the Sabbath, Passover, was started. The people who were caring for the body of Jesus were unable to complete all of the necessary preparations for a proper burial, and working quickly, they did as much as they could. They came back on the first day of the week, after the Sabbaths had completed, and then they tried to further fix the body but found out that Jesus was risen instead.

Thus we know that Christ was up on the cross some time more than three hours, though probably not a lot more. We know this because the fourth cry on the cross is given at the 9th hour, or at 3 in the afternoon. At noon, he has already prayed for their forgiveness, but now he is replying to the comment of faith on the part of the thief. Verily, or truly he says, today shalt thou be with me in paradise. Is it not a marvel that the first one into heaven was naught but a thief on the cross? And what was it that saved him? It was his simple plea of faith, “Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

And what grace it is that the Son of God should so easily bestow upon the thief! At what cost is our salvation? I would reply that it is a very heavy cost, the heaviest cost of all that God could devise, for having paid his all in giving his life for us, there is nothing more that can be done. It is always a simple childlike faith in God that will save us, and we do well to remember that there is nothing that we can add to it—often we try to add to it by our own good works, but instead we subtract from it. Luther tells us that the tree of faith comes first, “The tree comes first, and then come the fruits.”¹ Always and truly we are looked at and judged first by whether we have faith or not. Those judged to have faith are kept by Christ, while those without faith are as the goats separated by the Shepherd, and are forever lost.

And what is the judgment? Is it enough to just say we believe? Read the words of Jesus (Matthew 7:22, and 23 NIV)and see, “Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity.” I can hear your confusion loudly in my ears; you are thinking that surely he would not say that to you. I believe, you say. But read the words of James (James 2:19 and 20), and what he says about belief, “Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well: the devils also believe, and tremble. But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead?” Look at what Luther again said, “The tree comes first, and then come the fruits.” A deathbed confession of Christ is always acceptable to him, for does he not tell us so in the parable of the workers of the vineyard. Even those who are hired during the last hours of the day are paid the same wages—thus is plain that faith saves us. But James was speaking about what he was seeing in that some said they had faith, but showed no difference in their lives. Those people, James declares, are people without a saving faith, for their faith produces no works. He points to the demons and their beliefs, correctly saying that they do believe and tremble because of their belief, but for them there is no salvation.

Afraid we are to judge the dead, and righteously so, for judgment ought to be left in the hands of God who alone sees the heart of man. Many times I see funerals where the person who dies is assumed to be with God, but in the hearts of the mourners, if I were to ask them why, they would have no clear answer. The answer for acceptance of God is always based on faith—it is utterly impossible for any man to gain heaven without faith in what God has done. But added to that faith, over time, we should always expect to see that famous fruit that Luther talks about. We will see people becoming changed and convicted as they seek to follow their new found faith.
It is upsetting to me to see so many miss the truth of the gospel—there is forgiveness to all, no matter how heinous their sin might be—but there also is condemnation for all who have not faith producing holiness. Thus we have confusion on the part of many Christians seeking to be tolerant, and they accept everyone’s lifestyle as acceptable, when there is no lifestyle other than the lifestyle of faith that is acceptable to God. On the other side, we have confusion of the part of many Christians who know that there are many wicked lifestyles not acceptable to God, and therefore they cringe from the people whom God indeed loves and would share his truth with. Neither side is following the truth and love of the gospel.

The gospel fairly steers a middle course here, seeing something from both groups. Jude (22 NIV) tells us to “show mercy [to all], mixed with fear—hating even the clothing stained by corrupted flesh. Thus we can see we are to hate the sin, but love the sinner, as has indeed been written so many times. It is difficult for Christians to stay on the middle course, rejecting the sin, but embracing the sinner, but their very hope of salvation rests on nothing less. Jude tells us in the same passage that we are to “snatch others from the fire and save them.” We do no one who is bound for eternal hell a favor by accepting their lifestyle, but we likewise cannot do a favor to such unless we reach the challenge of loving them.

I have always wondered about death—Jesus plainly tells us that the thief was to be that very day in paradise with Jesus himself. But Paul tells us that the dead in Christ are awaiting their new bodies, just as we are, and that together we will be raised to forever be with him. I am altogether sure that the differences will be worked out by God, but the difficulty is to see how they might be. Randy Alcorn suggests that we are given temporary bodies as soon as we die, and that may be the answer for certainly it seems to be the probable answer.

But it ought to be enough for every Christian to know, that in the hour of his death, the living Lord is awaiting his presence. I do wonder about all the people who claim to have near death experiences, for it seems that they never get it right. And I remember that famous saying of our Lord, that there is a great gulf placed between this world and the afterworld, so that no man will ever cross it. Not Hercules, nor any other mythological character could ever cross this barrier. Only Christ has broken the march of death for us, and is it not wonderful to think about being in Paradise with our Lord?

1.Luther, Martin (2009-02-14). Christian Classics: Works of Martin Luther, in a single file, improved 9/1/2010 (Kindle Location 2469). B&R Samizdat Express. Kindle Edition.

What are the Seven cries of the cross?

1. Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do
2. 6th hour- Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.
3. Woman, behold thy son! , Behold thy mother!
4. 9th hour- My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?
5. I thirst
6. It is finished
7. Into thy hands I commit my Spirit
Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do. Studying the seven cries of the cross is a fascinating study. The first, repeated as the first line here, was evidently uttered just after Jesus was lifted up on the cross. But how long did God intend for things to happen this way?

A study of the scriptures reveals that God has always intended to extend forgiveness to those who will believe. My pastor reminded me of a great place in Genesis where Christ is prefigured in none other than the person of Joseph. His brothers, who have made a lifelong practice of deceiving both their brother and their father, claim to have a “last word” from their father, telling Joseph to forgive them. Joseph, probably not fooled for an instant, has already forgiven his brothers, and weeps before them all, thus prefiguring the Christ who was to cry on the cross, asking for forgiveness to the very ones responsible for putting him on the cross.

What must it have been like for the Creator of the universe to take the form of flesh and become a man? Our world still marvels over the incarnation, even many who do not really believe find themselves “believing”, if only for a moment in the Christmas season. But I am thinking more of what it might have been like—to be perfect and holy and blameless—and yet become a man. He came, fully realizing from eternity past, that he would be rejected of his nation, Israel. He came, knowing his message would be mocked, his birth ridiculed, and his very personage threatened again and again. The evidence in the gospel is fairly strong that he was initially rejected even of his mother and his brothers. They could not understand something so magnificent and grand coming from the Jesus they had grown up with. Jesus, after his resurrection, made a special appearance to his brother James, last of all, probably so that his own brother might believe. James the Just indeed came to believe, leading the church of Jerusalem and leaving us with the famous epistle of James.

He came and saw so much that was wrong. We are only given a brief glimpse of one childhood adventure, that when he was 12 years old, he went into the temple and taught, amazing all those who listened. But the rest of the years are silent years, and we wonder how he coped with the world during that time. What must he have thought about all the crazy things going on the world? The Romans were little more than barbarians, his own people had nearly all wandered away from the faith, and the times were filled with evil. How it must have disquieted his soul to see all that was going on, and not to do anything about it. For the Bible says that he came not into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved. He humbled himself, taking on the form of a servant, that we might be saved.

I think of the prostitute who the religious leaders brought to him to be condemned. Jesus famously wrote in the sand after he said let him who has no sin cast the first stone. What if these leaders were men who Jesus knew personally? I do not doubt that Jesus, being God, could have known everything about these leaders, and it is suggested that Jesus, writing in the sand, was writing the names of the leaders and their secret sins next to their names. We of course, do not know what he was writing, but I want to suggest that perhaps Jesus was just using his earthly knowledge, his personal acquaintance with these men as the basis for his knowledge. He did grow up with them, and scandals, being what they are, have a way of coming out. What if he were just writing not-so-secret sins? In any case, the men were somehow convicted, and went out one by one.

I used to have a friend who despised this story, rejecting it utterly as something that Jesus would never do. (It is in a famously disputed passage, and may not have been part of the original.) But when I read the story, I always think it is exactly what Jesus would do. Until we begin to see ourselves as God sees us, we cannot have much hope of grace. It is only when we see ourselves as worse than a common prostitute that we begin to really appreciate the grace of God for its immeasurable worth. After all, we know that the first person into heaven was nothing but a common thief on the cross. Jesus has come to save the lost, but we do not even begin to realize how lost we were when we were found by him. Indeed, it is true, and could be accurately said of us, that even still, our folly is great, and we do not know what we do. Yet, Jesus prayed that the Father might forgive us, though we still do not know what that means.

The greatest among Christians tends always to have a great picture of his own ineptitude, coupled with an even greater understanding of the forgiveness of God. He understands well the meaning of grace, and is quick to point to the author of his salvation. If we are to comprehend at all the grace of God, we must see ourselves every bit as needy as that common prostitute in the eyes of God. We are not saved because of any goodness in us, and the Bible tells us that we owe salvation completely to the grace of God. It is not until we see that God’s forgiveness is offered to everyone, no matter what the offense, that we can begin to appreciate just how grand the grace of the Father is.

But it occurs to me that there is yet another plane of which we have so little understanding. I am a literalist when it comes to the Bible, and try to believe the things I find written there. We, meaning mankind, have been through many stages in the unfolding plan of God. In each stage, at every point we have been colossal failures. Even today, in the mystery age of the church, there is so much unbelief. You may think I exaggerate, but if we really believed that God is judging this world how drastically different our lives would be. We live with our amusements, our Wii games, our movies, and our favorite pastimes. We certainly do not act like judgment is coming upon the world. We most certainly do not act like Jesus is the one hope. Surely Jesus must be praying in our behalf, yet again, Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.

Being a literalist, I must go back to the context, for heretofore I have mostly been writing about speculative applications of the prayer of Jesus when the primary context states something so plainly. The world was killing their Savior. They meted out their justice, and put to death the Savior of the world, not knowing what they were doing. The Jewish leaders were the primary force behind causing his death, but the worldly system of Rome was also used, and two of the worldly Gentile leaders were also greatly responsible for his death. Imagine being a believer prior to the cross, for Jesus does tell us of such in the gospel of John. They believed Jesus to be the son of God, and they believed that God the Father had sent him. What a deep sense of loss and bewilderment must have come over them to see the Son of God hanging on the cross, and dying. They had expected that Jesus was to be their ruler, over a kingdom set up on earth, and that the Jews would be used as a blessing to all of mankind. Instead they got a bloody and beaten corpse. What a devastation that must have been!

Who was the first to figure it out? As best I can tell, it was the disciple whom Jesus loved, John¹, for John in running to the tomb early on Sunday morning, saw the empty tomb, with the grave clothes all neatly stacked, and he understood first what millions in the world have discovered since. He has risen! Read what the prophet Isaiah had to say, so long ago.
His visage was so marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men.
Isaiah 52:14
And again in Isaiah 53, (verses 3-6)
He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.

Willingly he went to the cross, bearing our sins, that we might be forgiven forever, if we will but believe. While we were yet stupid and foolish, sinning against God in nailing Jesus to the cross, yet still then, he prayed to the Father, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. What wonderful grace was given to us by the Creator of the universe, who told us that he gave his life willingly, and that no man—not the Jewish leaders, not even the Roman leaders—took it from him. He said he would lay his life down, and that he would take it up again. Isaiah finishes with the picture of Jesus on the cross telling us, “for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken.” Indeed, the Father has forgiven us, for we knew not what we were doing!

1. In John 20:8 it says, “Then went in also that other disciple, which came first to the sepulchre, and he saw, and believed.”

What happens when we pray?

If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you.
John 15:7

I remember the comment of a man, more than forty years ago, who said, “I tried prayer once, but it didn’t work.” There was much that was wrong in his theology, but there was so much wrong in his understanding of prayer. We cannot make out a list of things that we want, as we are want to do when we go to the grocery store, and then pray for them with any expectation of being answered. Most of us seem to understand this rather intuitively, but what would God have us to pray for? I know the question seems to point in a different direction, but we cannot expect things to happen when we pray unless we are praying as we ought. It is said that Mary, Queen of Scots, trembled whenever John Knox went to his knees in prayer. Obviously, John Knox had a sense of what to pray for, and therefore, when he prayed things happened. Though this short piece is not on what to pray for, the understanding should be that prayer intrinsically involves the prayer warrior with his God, or as John put it, we need to become creatures who abide in him with his words filling our hearts. If we expect answered prayer, there is no other way.

But let us say that we are abiding in him when we come to prayer. What happens then? In the Old Testament we are told of Daniel’s praying, and instantly God heard, though the angel he sent was hindered for 21 days. In the New Testament, a new dynamic to prayer is introduced. Jesus tells us that it is better for him to go away, for if he did not go away, the Comforter would not come to us. It is exactly that, the Comforter, or the Spirit of God, who makes the difference in our prayers. We are praying and the Spirit of God is within us! All of the power and grace that went to make this world is inside us, listening to us, walking with us, given to us to comfort us in an arid and lost world. What manner of changed people we would be, if we truly realized his presence in us.

God did not just leave his Spirit in us, but according to Romans 8, the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. In other words when we pray we have the very Spirit of God translating our prayers just as God would want, that those requests should be made perfect and holy before the Father we are directing them to. The “translated prayer” is the very assurance of our answer. God takes our prayer and transforms it into something that will bring glory and honor to his name, and will still answer our prayer. How many times I have heard saints confess an answer to prayer, but not quite in the way that they were expecting. When that happens to us, we should realize right away that God the Spirit has been busy translating our prayer into something that God the Father answered. How majestic is his name!

So we have two members of the godhead helping us with prayer, but how does the Son help? The Bible directs us with the direct command of Jesus to pray for things in his name. “My Father will give you whatever you ask in my name” (John 16:23 NIV). Jesus is telling us to come to the Father through our faith in Christ’s work on the cross; he is not, as so many seem to believe, going to especially answer our prayers because we remember the magic formula and pray “in Jesus name”. When we come to the Father through our having been saved by faith in his Son we are given a wonderful hearing from the Father. Thus, prayers are to be directed to the Father, and aided in interpretation by the Holy Spirit, and through our access to the Father, Jesus. The triune God is involved in each and every prayer that we make. Why? I do not pretend to understand why he has valued us so highly, but it does well for my heart to think about what he gave as the price of my salvation. His own Son came and freely gave what was asked of him to the Father. The Son, in his obedience, gave himself willingly that I might be set free forever from the penalty of sin. He could give no more than himself, and in giving himself he exerted more effort for our salvation than was given to the whole of the created world. Why? I can only answer that He chose to love us, and therefore to redeem us, and the why of it all is hidden in the purposes of God, perhaps to be revealed when we are changed into his image.

It seems to me that about every decade or so, a bunch of Christians somehow come together, reading the magnificent prayer promises of God, and get the idea that if they somehow just master prayer, then they can master God. Sometimes the prayer of Jabez is used as an excuse to sort of “commandeer” God, though I do not think those involved would use such a harsh term. The real beauty of the prayer of Jabez was his coming to his God with simple faith and a crying need. There are no magic words that will put a special whammy on our prayers and get them answered. But the essence of prayer is to recognize his mastery, and our subordination—we have access to the Father through what has graciously been given us. We can no more order God around than we can stop a hurricane, but we can get the sovereign God to listen to us, to consider that which we present to him faithfully in the name of his Son. In the late seventies, there arose what is sometimes termed, “the name-it and claim-it movement”. Saints of God had become convinced that they only had to present the right prayer to God, and then they could count on his blessing so much that they could just assume it would come to pass. Many grievous errors are made with much inevitable disappointment when we forget we are the petitioners, the “askers”, not ever the commanders. It is we who wait on the majesty of God, and try what magic formula we may, nothing is ever going to change who is the master and who is the petitioner.

How often does he listen? Every time! Every single time! At the beginning of the end of this present evil age, in The Revelation there is a passage that shows how God has saved the prayers of every saint: “He [an angel] was given much incense to offer, with the prayers of all the saints, on the golden altar before the throne” (Revelation 8:3). God so values our prayers that he has saved every one of them, saving them to be ultimately answered when we finally see the presentation of the Son.

Which leads me to another thing I want to discuss that happens when we pray. How many times do we ask? I wish to submit, with lots of qualifications that once is sufficient. When we come in confidence to the Triune God presenting our petitions we can know and be assured that he hears our prayer. And we know that if he hears us, then we will get an answer. I know there are plenty of qualifications where repetition is needed. Indeed, I prayed for my father’s salvation for 35 years—but even there, if I remember correctly, it was the third time in my life, when I was in prayer for my father that I received assurance from God that it would eventually happen. Thereafter, when I prayed for my father’s salvation, it became a prayer of thanksgiving to God for what I believed he had answered. Notice I did not give thanks for my belief—some of those times I struggled with the believing—rather I gave thanks to him for what he had answered, remembering his assurance. I did not think that I had to have a certain level of faith before he would answer. Instead I knew that salvation of my father was beyond me, and that it lay in the action of God, who was pleased to give me assurance of its coming. I waited in expectation for that answer for 35 years, when during the last week of Dad’s life, he at last eagerly prayed to receive Christ.

Let me suggest a Biblical reference here. I believe that Nehemiah is one of the greatest of prayer warriors of the Bible, and I believe his greatest prayer was also his briefest. Caught with all his fellow Jews in a foreign land, he is distraught by the great God he knows, and the captivity that he sees. He prays and fasts for no end of days for his people, praying that God will have mercy and redeem them. That is the repeated part, and it ultimately leads him to confrontation. He is so distraught that the king notices his sadness and asks him why he is sad. The scripture records his praying, saying, “Then I prayed to the God of heaven” (Nehemiah 2:4) and immediately he answers the king with his request to redeem his people. I think the context is quite clear as to the time that Nehemiah had to answer just being mere seconds. In spite of that, he took time to pray. What did he pray? We can only guess, yet I think it might be something like “God help me now”, or perhaps, “May your will, God, be done”. Praying once, and expecting a great answer from God has a definite place in the prayers of a saint. There is room for us to be a little more like Nehemiah.

I am not trying to say that we are not to repeat our prayers here. Nehemiah did just that, earlier, in the beginning of the book. Rather, I am saying that we ought to have much more confidence in the God to whom our prayers are directed. Asking the God of all of creation for something that he would have me to ask for, oughtn’t I to have a small tincture of faith that he hears me? In light of what I have discussed above, I am to have every confidence that he hears me. And if I know that he hears me, then I ought to have every assurance and expectation that he is going to answer me—perhaps not in the way that I prayed, but in a definite answer that I will look for with every expectation. Sometimes, I think we do error in our bringing the same prayer time after time to God, but never listening for the answer. Sometimes I hear earnest prayers of saints that they have repeated for years, and I believe that they do need to come to terms with the answer of God that lies before them.

I do not want to go too far here. I am trying to emphasize the great majesty that has been given us. We have been given the privilege of prayer, of coming into the very presence of the God of all of there is, and sometimes we need to act like we really do expect our God to answer. Sometimes I wonder if we have misunderstood God, and think that if we just wear out a path of prayer to God, we will at last get the answer we want. I think that sometimes saints have the idea that if their faith were just larger, that somehow God would be compelled to hear and answer them, but that is such a poor understanding of faith. Our faith never rests upon ourselves—it would be on a sandy foundation indeed—our faith is in God, our Solid Rock. Putting our trust in Him is always the way of faith, and pretending that our faith is not large enough misses the problem entirely. Knowing God and knowing that he loves us is always the basis of true faith. He answers prayer because of who he is, and not at all because of our persistence, or our level of faith.

But I would not leave you thinking I do not repeat my prayers. Many of those who go to my church may remember that all of last year I was praying for renewal and revival for both our church and our community. I tried my best to pray for that an extra time each day last year, and I am continuing that prayer this year. I am watching to see what answer he is giving, and with much thanksgiving. Many more than usual decisions were made in my church last year, and inroads are being built into the community that may bring revival. I continue to thank God for those answers, even while being convinced that it is not quite what I am praying for. I am asking for much more, and I will continue to do so, looking towards God and his direction. Such a prayer is easy on two levels. I know that God wants us to learn discipleship and obedience, and I also know that God loves the world enough to send his Son. I believe in earnest daily prayer for this because I already have the assurance of God that it likely is something that he would desire. So my faith and hope are in the God who would save us, and teach us.

Finally, there is a sense in which all of our prayers are translated into something very nearly like, “Thy Kingdom Come”. The wants, needs, and aims of our prayers should always be in the character of what Jesus would have for us. Thus, there is a very real sense that ultimately our prayers are answered with the appearing of the Son. No wonder God savors the aroma of every one of our prayers! Translated as they are by the Spirit of God, they are petitions for us to have God’s will in our lives. That ultimately happens for every saint, and not one is lost (else the promise of God would fail) with the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Even so, come Lord Jesus!

What is the old man?

As the new year turns, do we not all want to put aside our besetting sins, and do a better job of walking with Christ? What are your besetting sins? How can we begin to put those behind us?

I recently had a friend of many years come to me with his struggle against a decades long smoking habit.

“I need to be delivered of this sin, my brother,” he said. “Pray for me that I will find deliverance.”
Which is a perfect set-up for my next question, what is the old man? More importantly how do we deal with the old man, and what can give us real victory over sin?

The phrase old man is used three times in the New Testament, and it is clear from its usage what is meant. Each of these passages should be looked at briefly to understand the term. “Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin” (Romans 6:6). The reference to the “old man” here is definitely to sinful man, and we are told that the old man is crucified with Christ. It is because the old man is crucified that we can have confidence of our standing with Christ. Does that mean that we are delivered from sin, or in this case a habit that we want to reform?

Let’s look at the second example, “That ye put off concerning the former conversation the old man, which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts; And be renewed in the spirit of your mind; And that ye put on the new man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness” (Eph. 4:22-24). Here the example of the old man is “put off”, and we are instead told to put on the new man.

There is yet one more example. “Lie not one to another, seeing that ye have put off the old man with his deeds; And have put on the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of him that created him.” The reason we are to be truthful and honest with one another is because we have put off the old man with his deeds.

Some would improperly teach that we have a nature, call it human or whatever, that is apart from these two natures, but the New Testament knows nothing of a third nature. Neither does the Bible teach us sinless perfection possibilities. Rather, when we are saved we saved from the penalty of sin, but not the presence of sin. We are either the old man or the new man. We are either lost in sin, or regenerated by the crucifixion of Christ. There is no third possibility.

My friend, whose example I borrowed, needs to realize that two things are going on here. His new life in Christ is evidently condemning some of his old habits, namely smoking. He has become convicted that this habit needs to be turned away from, and is not sure of how to gain the power to quit. What he may not realize is that there is a battle between two natures going on here, his new nature and his old nature. His dilemma, apart from getting rid of his habit, is how to lay ahold of the new man and move away from the old man.

The apostle Paul famously describes this battle between the old man and new man in Romans seven. Christ was not our example on the cross—he was our substitute, bearing the penalty of our sin, that we should forever be free of that penalty. The Christian is called by faith; he is saved once for all from the penalty of sin by faith, and he must reckon himself dead to sin and alive unto God. The only thing he can do to turn away from sin is to maintain the attitude of faith, yielding himself to God. That is all. But it is more than enough, because the Spirit of God is in us, and can give us victory as we yield to him. “Therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death: that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life” (Romans 6:6). The picture given to us is that God has crucified us with Christ (Gal. 2:20), and has given us a new life to walk in.

So, how can my friend can victory? Certainly not with struggle—his flesh is weak, and that probably will not work. The opportunity for righteous living lies in two areas. First we must know that we are forever forgiven, made to be children of God. There is no failure that we have in this lifetime that is capable of squashing that which God has wrought. The sacrifice of his son was for all of our sins, no matter how persistently we may fall. Second, he must know utterly and completely that God is greater than our habits, and walking in the Spirit, he can begin to lay ahold of victory.

Not that he, or me, or thee is going to attain total victory in this lifetime. Instead, our spirits groan with the long deferred time when all shall be remade. In that time, the scripture says, we shall become like him for we shall see him as he is. At that point, and only at that point we will find freedom from the presence of sin. There are those who would preach a second experience that leads to perfection in this lifetime, but the Bible knows nothing of such perfection. Of subsequent experiences of faith whereby we might grow in grace, there may be a great number, as the Lord does use our times and experiences and his word to refine us and purify us. But we will never escape the pull and temptation of sin.

So what should I tell my friend? Simply to know that he is covered under the grace of God, and that, as he walks in the Spirit he can experience victory over his besetting sin. The best part is that there is no condemnation for failure. It is not God who condemns us in our failure, for he has extended a full forgiveness to us. There is no condemnation for those of us who would strive to walk not after the flesh but after the Spirit.

Our besetting sins for the new year must be dealt with in the same manner. One at a time. Pressing after the Spirit and leaving the flesh behind is not only the sure path to victory—it is the way that we take on the character of Christ. It may seem insufferably long to struggle with one sin at a time. But it is the narrow path to discipleship. May this new year find us dealing steadfastly with our besetting sins, and as the year wanes, may we be able to look back to the victories we have by walking in the Spirit.


(My thanks to Chafer, Systematic Theology, Vol. 2 The Christian’s Sin)

How can I tell the voice in my head from the voice of God? Part Two

A most difficult question. Last time I focused on a New Testament example and an Old Testament example of discerning God’s will, but I did not nearly cover the problems intrinsic behind the question. We who reflect much on the question will often think of those remarkable success stories of those who followed something the Spirit bade them to do, but we might also be reminded of those who have encountered unmitigated disaster in trying to follow what God seems to be directing them to do. Is there any way of discerning beforehand which it is to be?

I think there often is not, and I also think that is why a great many godly people are so careful with this area. It is an area in which the unwary have plunged, and to continue the metaphor, have often found themselves in strange and deep waters. How might that, at least, be avoided? First of all, as discussed last time, no biding from God should contradict what is plainly taught in the Scriptures. It is amazing to me to hear many times people who claim to have direction from God, but are going exactly opposite to the way they should be going. In Proverbs, it tells us that there is a way that seems right to a man, but the end thereof is death. It ought to give us a lot of pause to think about the way that others seem to get so far off center, and especially when we look afresh upon our own lives. Paul tells us that each one of us ought “to examine” ourselves to see whether we really are in the faith, and Jesus reminds us that some, at least, will find themselves at the wedding feast of the Lamb without proper wedding clothes—and, surprised, they will be cast into the outer darkness. If we do not soberly examine ourselves, there will be another who will.

Does what you think God is telling you going to affect others? Will others need to see it as the will of God? Such questions should raise red flags of caution for the careful believer. I have found it helpful to let go and let God. If God has indeed impressed something on my mind, then I need to find some quiet way of obedience to what I feel called to, without disturbing others with a loud proclamation of God’s talking to me. Nothing seems to put off Christians quite so readily as those who claim to know God better than their fellow parishioners. Humility, a wonderful Christian virtue, is too often left far behind in pursuit of such faith ventures, and that alone ought to be enough of a danger signal to encourage restraint. With humility comes a great deal of waiting upon God to move. In the case of Moses, he committed murder trying to help his fellow Israelite, and it was not until he had left his vision of being a helper for Israel behind for forty years, that God at last used him. At eighty, when he should have been dead, then God chose to quicken him in ministry, and marvelously used him for yet another forty years. Humility and waiting often go together with a vision for God, because God often seems to gather all the glory to his name, lest we become vain and think we are doing well in our own power.

Early in my Christian life, I became deeply interested in being in the ministry as possibly an associate pastor, or a youth minister. I was also called to witness, but you, looking at my results would wonder at the calling, for hardly any responded. I deepened my prayer life, and asked God to use and make me to be the way he wanted me to be. But I still felt committed to follow the path to ministry, so while I was working on the farm, I was given the opportunity to preach at the very small local gospel mission. Carefully I placed my prayer to God, “God, if you desire me to pursue a ministry, then I ask that you give me one person who will hear the message and respond by accepting Christ.” Earnestly expecting and hoping for an answer was my focus, and when I at last stuttered my way through the message, and gave an invitation, I looked to the many men, and not one of them responded. Discouraged, I went home, and set about praying anew for God to show me his will. Unknown to me, our pastor had invited the chaplain of the same mission to speak that very Sunday. I made sure to speak to the man after the service, and to my surprise, he pulled me aside and told me that one man had waited until I left their service to make his decision. The chaplain did not know of my prayer, but said that he was just impressed that I ought to know.

What a marvel in God there is! My prayer was answered, not quite in the way I expected it to be, but in a way that demonstrated I should be trusting in him. As an outcome, my wife and I went back to college at Biola, where we saw many scores of people coming to Christ as God used us to proclaim his Son. I still had to wait, working on the farm, and wherever else I could, in humility, taking training from God until he was ready to use us. So, you see, I do think there is a valid place for the biding of the Spirit, but it usually seems to occur in a place which totally humbles us, and lifts up the name of our God.

Humility seemed to be something God was regularly teaching me, for I remember an earlier time when my wife and I were meeting together with several of other young people in a regular meeting. I had just been laid off, and my meager savings had rapidly run out. I became the more earnest in prayer as my savings dwindled, something that was going to occur lots of times in my student life, but it was God’s training ground for me, to teach me to depend totally upon his provision. I remember spreading out my bills before the Lord, and asking him to give me a job, or to take care of my bills somehow, when a fortuitous knock came at the door. Opening my door, I found one of my prayer friends, who explained that he had just been praying, and the Lord had impressed him so strongly that he had written out a check for the exact amount that I had been praying for. He asked if I had a need for the check that he had written, not sure whether it was going to prove out to be the word of the Lord, or not. Needless to say, I accepted the check, and gave glory to God. Did God speak to the young man? He certainly felt that it was so. And so did I.

Late in my life, I have tried to renew my writing, asking that God might use it to glorify his name. As I was praying one morning this past spring, it suddenly came to me that I was to write a book on the awakenings of America, and that as a sign that I was, I would be asked to preach once more. I am finishing up my blessed career in teaching, and long ago gave up on my preaching gift, deciding that if God wanted me to preach he would have to get someone to ask me. I was not going to seek out the opportunity, but rather let God work as he would. It had now been about twenty years since I was in the pulpit, and when those thoughts flitted through my head, I assumed it was my vanity, poking its ugly head up once more, and I remember scoffing twice at the thoughts. First I scoffed at the idea of writing on the awakenings. I had just recently become interested in them, chiefly through reading Jonathan Edwards’ account of the First Awakening. I was certainly not able to write a book on the subject. Second, I scoffed because I had long ago left my plea to God alone, and the very idea of anyone asking me to preach bordered on the edges of insanity. Or so I thought. That very evening, my pastor, without any prior discussion on the subject, came up to me and asked me to speak from the pulpit that summer.

Here is an interesting case to ponder a bit. Maybe I was a bit more like Zachariah (see part one) in doubting the message. Actually I would say I was not expecting that these were directions from the Lord at all, but time and chance proved that they were. I have nearly completed my book on the awakenings, and I find myself blessed beyond all of my expectations.

I have tried to illustrate the difficulty of telling the voice of God from my own inner voice. First, I gave an illustration of where I felt the strong promptings of God to do something—in this case to seek the ministry—where God seemed to be speaking to me. Second, I gave the case of God seeming to speak to another in direct answer to my prayers. Last, I showed that, even late in the Christian walk, there are times when I cannot tell the voice of the Spirit from my own inner voice. Time is sometimes the only tool that reveal whether something is of God or not.

But I can tell you that a walk of humility is necessary before him. If the word of the Lord is indeed coming to you, and you are marked in pride and vanity, then surely it is not the word of God at all. But if you deepen your humble life before him, I have long noticed that he will prove himself, and his word. It really is not my job to tell whether a random thought is from him or not. My job is obedience, walking before him, and seeking his glory in all of my life. I did tell you it was a most difficult question.

Our walk of faith is partly knowing partly seeing. When we look ahead we are a most fortunate people, looking toward the inheritance that God has left for us. The problem is that our present problems often cry out for deliverance, and our eyes are focused tightly on our present problems. The temptation to seize the problem and declare God’s solution for it, becomes too great to resist. And many a saint has fallen from following such a reckless course. It pleased God to suffer on the cross for mankind, that believing, we might be redeemed. It continues to marvel me that Jesus came to us in the flesh, in the role of the dutiful servant, not seeking his own inclinations, but rather seeking to give totally of himself. In his short walk upon this earth, he experienced all the childish behaviors, the foolish things that must have appeared to him as the most stupid of follies, yet he chose to suffer them. In short, he suffered fools. For he came into the world, scripture says, not to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved. If our master was thus willing to endure scorn and pain for the sake of the world, how can we who be his servants expect anything less?

The victory in our walk with God lies not in the treasures of this world, but rather in looking ahead towards the end, and working everyday toward that end. The saint who looks to the present world to find satisfaction will neither find satisfaction nor long remain obedient. But the saint who looks ahead will find both satisfaction and delight in this world as he is obedient to the calling of God. Does God indeed speak to us? Undoubtedly he does, but the saint who would be holy will immerse himself in the word of God, which we know to be the very voice of God. There is no other way!

God fills our lives with his precious moments, and what a treasure it is when we find the Spirit leading us, and opening doors in our lives. I cherish those God-moments, as we all should, but the real and true lamppost that God gives us is in his word. Thy word, says the psalmist, is a lamp unto my feet, a light unto my path. Let all things in your life be measured with its timeless truths.

How can I tell the voice in my head from the voice of God? Part One

Undoubtedly, this is one of the most difficult questions I have had to answer. On the one hand, there are many who would too readily acknowledge any voice as the voice of God, and their fruits are readily apparent to those of us watching. But on the other hand, there are many who do not acknowledge any voice of the Holy Spirit at all, believing that God speaks only through his Word. I believe that there is a middle ground, but it is not at all clear sometimes what we must do to verify the voice of God.

Sometimes it is very clear and easy to verify that we are not receiving the prompting of God. Anytime we are contradicting the word of God, we are not in the will of God. I have had people come to me and say, “I know divorce is wrong, but this woman I have found is the right one for me. I believe God would have me leave my wife for this, my true love.” Such a sentiment, no matter how dearly held, is always wrong, as it contradicts the known and stated will of God in the Bible. We are to take our wives, and esteem them as better than ourselves, following the very model of Christ in laying down our lives for them (Ephesians 5). Anything which would contradict the plain and stated will of God is of our own desires, and not at all of God. So much is easy.

But the rest of it is more difficult. Consider two examples from the Bible. Zechariah had a visit from an angel, telling him that he was to have a child, and that he was to name that child John, and that John would be great in the sight of the Lord. Zechariah was old, and so was his wife, and they considered themselves to be past the age of child-bearing, and so Zechariah was naturally skeptical of the angel. In one sense I can identify strongly with him because what he and his wife had longed for was being granted to him. But perhaps Zechariah has a vivid imagination, and was wondering if perhaps he was not imagining what he wanted so strongly. I find myself quite capable of imagining the things that I want to happen, and often am not sure of what is what when I so imagine. At any rate, Zechariah doubts, probably the same thing that I would do under similar circumstances.

But the doubting gets a rebuke from the angel, who tells Zechariah that now he will be mute until the day that the child is born because he doubted the vision. Incidentally, the prayer of Zechariah is answered, for he asked, “How shall I be sure of this?”, and the angel surely gave him surety in the rebuke. Finding that he was not able to speak must have been quite a reminder for nine long months as Zechariah mused on the vision of God that he was utterly unable to share with anyone, even his beloved. Perhaps Zechariah’s example teaches us that God will, in the unfolding of time, make his will apparent. But it remains somewhat confusing to me because I remember that Zechariah was rebuked, and thus the implication that he was supposed to believe God. God I am always ready to believe—the problem of myself, and the question I am trying to answer is that I am not always sure if it is myself or the voice of God. How do I tell the difference? One thing seems certain—in this case at least—if God is in it, it will surely come to pass.

Gideon provides the second example from the Bible. He is perhaps more well-known for not being certain of the will of God than for anything else. Remember that he prayed for God to give him a sign that it is really you that is talking to me. The angel of the Lord touches the sacrifice of Gideon and utterly burns it up. That should have been enough. At least, I think I would have been fairly convinced of the voice of God speaking to me, but Gideon was not satisfied. He famously prays, first for the dry fleece and wet dewy ground, and then for the wet fleece with the dry ground. Perhaps it is best to look closer at the circumstances Gideon faced to better understand his doubts.

God sends Gideon with the vision of the angel to save Israel, but Gideon finds that it is more difficult than he himself had foreseen. Following the orders of the angel, he desecrates his father’s altar to Baal. The people of the town, finding their desecrated altar, demanded the blood of Gideon for it, but Gideon’s father refused to surrender Gideon. Almost before Gideon realized it, the people of Baal rose up against the town and were threatening to destroy it. Gideon found himself at the center of a controversy, and the Israelites began to flood to his defense, and began to take up arms. It is only at this point that Gideon lacks faith, and asks for a greater sign.

If we are to understand Gideon at all, then we must surely look toward his new responsibilities. Now he was being asked to put his very country’s lives at risk, and he was being asked to be the leader of what might well be termed an insurrection. It was not just on Gideon anymore; rather it involved the lives and deaths of thousands of people. Gideon wanted to make sure that God was directing this, and instead of deprecating him for his lack of faith, I should probably esteem his regard for his fellow man most highly. Whatever the reason, God saw fit to answer the prayer of Gideon with both wet and dry fleece. Gideon has given many of us since those days confidence to come to God and pray that his will may be made known. I have many times prayed as Gideon, that God might give me a sign, that I might know the will of God. Many of those times God has answered, and I find myself ever so grateful for the example we have been given with Gideon.

Unlike Zechariah’s example where Zechariah’s belief or unbelief did not seem to affect a lot of others, Gideon’s belief did impact a whole people. I find it very persuasive that God, in using Gideon, distills his men to a mere three hundred men, and then the Lord does the impossible with just those men. Zechariah was also an impossible example, a man past his years of childbearing, and yet with the promise of God, finding himself able to father after all. This is an encouragement to me, to notice our God of the improbable, and the impossible, yet working through our frail natures.

Looking at the two examples from the Bible, I can see God gaining glory in each, and the men getting their answers though perhaps not in the way that they might have first conceived. Gideon found himself to be leading an army, successfully, but probably far beyond his original conception of destroying Baal’s altar. And Zechariah found himself not only a new father, but the father of one of the most important men of the generation, who was to proclaim the very coming of the Son to a perverse generation. Was that far beyond the first conception of just finally being a father? I think that Zechariah found the vision of the Lord to be considerably more bold than his own vision of finally being a father.

Thus, we can learn that God will have the glory, and in the end, all will know the will of God, even though we may doubt at the first. This should give us confidence that the will of God will prevail as we watch and wait on him. But I find that I have not at all answered the question clearly. I have established that in the long term God’s will will become apparent, but that may not be of much help for the believer wanting to know whether it is of God, or it is of himself. In part 2, I will try to give several real life examples that will be of some relief, though I stress that this question is really difficult, and that time may prove the best distillate of all.

Why does God discipline us?

For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.
Hebrews 12:11

There are many verses which tell us of the reason that God disciplines us, but I shall be working from Hebrews 12, a very important passage on the topic of discipline. There are at least five different reasons that God disciplines us, and many of them are illustrated in this great passage from Hebrews. There is some overlap in these verses, but I think, with other verses added, it can easily be seen that God has the best of intentions to using discipline for his church.

First, God disciplines us because we are his children. Hebrews 12:7 tells us, “It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?” What a wonderful thing it is that God cares about us enough to discipline us! The wise father sees many things his young son cannot, and will guide the child through the hurts of this world, sometimes without the child understanding the why. My son-in-law removed the smart phone from his three year old son today, explaining that his grandparents were visiting and wanted to talk to him. He was teaching his son a moral value that there is no way a three-year-old will ever understand. Not until he is much more mature will he understand compassion and politeness, as right now it is altogether foreign to his selfish nature. My son-in-law simply understands more of what it takes to build character, and was willing to endure the tears shed to enforce a better way.

Our Father in heaven acts in a similar fashion. It is commonly said that a good minister speaking to his congregation lacks greatness until he has been broken before the cross. My wife and I will sometimes comment on such a speaker, “He will be great when he is broken before the cross”, meaning that hard times teach our souls in a fashion that cannot be otherwise reached. Therefore, it is logical that we welcome such times, perhaps not because of the pain of the discipline, but definitely because it is the path to become more like the creatures God would have us to be.

Of course, I think, and maybe you do also, about all the priests who would flay themselves with whips in public, believing that somehow they were becoming better servants of Christ for their self-inflicted pain. There is no evidence whatever that God would have us to do such acts; in fact, Matthew 6 teaches us that acts done in public already have their own reward, and there is no evidence that self-inflicted pain ever produces godliness. Instead, God teaches plainly if we are to pursue godliness that we are to forsake ourselves for the sake of Christ, and to unselfishly give of ourselves to others. Punishing ourselves in such a manner is an act of utter selfishness, since we are focused only upon our body, and neither looking to Christ, nor to the service of others. The admonition of Christ is to take up our cross and follow him. We are admonished rather to become the willing servants of others, even to the point of washing their feet, in our following Christ, not to beat our bodies to a bloody pulp to please God. How far off we get from the God who loves us! He disciplines us that we might be better sons, not that we should torture ourselves to delight him. Such a perverse idea of the nature of God is utterly foreign to scripture!

Second, discipline is for our growth, and it is taught in Hebrews 12:10, “For they disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but he disciplines us for our good, that we may share his holiness.” Just as an earthly father loves his child, and knows training his son will be of great good will sometimes do corrective behavior that the child cannot understand. Just as a rock lover will take the rough stone and begin the long work of polishing it, so the Lord takes us, and bit by bit chip and cut away at our personality until we are much more like what he wants. Not that we will ever attain, as the apostle reminds us, but we are pressing on, by faith looking toward him who has justified us, while as Paul reminds us, “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed; Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body” (2 Cor. 4:8-10).

The apostle Paul must have had the ears of God. When he prayed I am sure God heard. Yet, the scripture says that Paul brought his unspoken affliction to the Lord three times, and not until the third time, did he receive an answer. Not at all the answer that he prayed for, but it was an answer that fully satisfied Paul. “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (2 Cor. 12:9). I have seen many afflictions and diseases which the Lord has not chosen to heal, and I have seen men and women broken before the Lord because they cannot understand how a God whom they know to be so good, does not hear their prayer. I wish that I could impart to every such believer the fact that God is good, just as they think, and that faith (trust) is the only rational response. Psalm 103 tells us that he heals all our diseases and infirmities, but that is obviously looking forward to a time when God shall dwell with men, and not the present world, where we continually see evil and darkness at every turn.

Thirdly, notice the same verse, Hebrews 12:10, “For they disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but he disciplines us for our good, that we may share his holiness.” We are not only told that discipline is for our good, but it is also for our holiness. God is purposing to make us like him, and though we will never enjoy the discipline, yet we can rejoice, like Paul, that the very power of Christ should rest upon us.
One of the harder lessons for new Christians has exactly to do with the fact that we see God more clearly than ever, we know his goodness, and we are often overwhelmed with his love. But we are trapped in a world that knows not Christ. Death and disease and famine are always lurking nearby, and we must work diligently to see that they do not come calling. Our jobs are less than ideal, to say the least, and we do not yet live in the better place that God has prepared for us. Keith Green points out somewhere that it took God but seven days to create the earth, but he has had over 2,000 years to prepare heaven for us. What glory it will be when we are changed into his image, and finally see what he has worked on so long to prepare for us.

The problem in now. Now we are buffeted and perplexed, torn on every side, and there is much, just as with the small child, that we cannot understand. But with the eyes of faith, we look assuredly toward the better place. It is often the only answer that I can give to those of my brothers and sisters who are grieving because of their loss. The Bible does promise that all things work together for good, and not at all that all things are good. There is a great distinction between the two. In a sense, we are sent into a hopeless battle, winning skirmishes, even while we are losing battles to the world, waiting for our Great Captain to appear, when all things shall finally start to be put forever right. So we are meant to look by faith to the victory, even while we learn the bitter taste of continual defeat in this world. Death reigns continually, but we know him who has overcome death. We are not able to make the world perfect, but we know the one who is able. On that day, he will laugh at all the plans of the wicked rulers and leaders of our world, for all their schemes will come to exactly nothing, and it will be as Narnia, when death itself begins to work backwards.

Fourth, we are disciplined so that God may prepare his bride. Hebrews 12:28 tells us of that time for which we are being prepared, “Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe” (Hebrews 12:28). We are a bride, being prepared for that time when all things will be judged. We are reminded in the parable of the virgins awaiting their master’s coming that we are to have oil in our lamps, and to be found ready at our groom’s coming. Revelation teaches this fact in 19:7 and 8, “Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory,
for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure”—for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.” Paul mentions elsewhere that if we do not produce good works that before the judgment seat of Christ those works which we did do will be burnt up, but we ourselves will be saved, yet as if by fire. Not a comfortable position to be in by any means, and it ought to be a situation which every living Christian seeks to avoid. As I survey the many Christians that I know who maintain what I would term a low threshold of obedience, I shudder at that coming and terrible judgment. Yet, God will make us his bride, and if we are not cleaning up our own lives with the good fruits of the Spirit, it is some comfort that one day he will do it, though it cost us dearly. May more of us lift up our eyes to the horizon and watch closely for his coming!

Last, the chief means of carrying the gospel is through his saints. It is not the only way. I can quite imagine a world without Christians, which will certainly one day soon happen if I am right about the Rapture, but the word of God would remain behind, a most powerful testimony which the Holy Spirit will bring to his elect. Nonetheless, in this age, it was the aim of Christ to build his church on the testimony of his disciples that he was, indeed, the long promised Messiah. “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). He disciplines us that we might learn compassion for others—for our brothers and sisters first, but also for the unsaved. By our compassion for each other, Jesus says that the world will recognize that we are his disciples.

In summation, there are at least five reasons why God disciplines us. He does it to establish that he is our father, he wants us to grow, he wants us to learn holiness, he is preparing his bride, and he is using us to testify to the world. The admonition of Hebrews bears repetition here, “For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it” (Hebrews 12:11). No wonder Paul found reason to rejoice in his weakness (many feel that Paul’s eyes had lost sight, but we are not sure for we are never specifically told). It was a necessary discipline of the Lord, and brought to his name glory. We may rest assured, that while we may not understand the discipline at the time, God has a purpose in it to work his glory.

Can we know Christ more?

After experiencing Christ, what else is there? This question is one I think a great many new Christians have, but I am afraid there are a great many older Christians who have not found the answer. We have developed a salvation theology that seems to pervade our culture; anyone may believe and be saved. In several famous tracts, we place a picture of a train, with fact always leading feeling. Soul winners stress that it is not how you feel, but what you believe that makes all the difference.

The problem I think is so profound because such theology is true—salvation is by faith alone—as far as it goes. That is the fact. But the emotion, put in the little caboose at the end of the train seems to suggest its unimportance. Almost made irrelevant by today’s rationalistic society, we pride ourselves on walking the walk of faith as much as possible through the facts of the Word. All of this could make a wonderful beginning to the Christian life, but it is only a bare beginning. I cannot help but reflect that the little caboose for years contained the boss of the train, and told the train when and where to stop. I cannot help but observe, that for many people, their caboose of emotion is what drives most of their decisions, in hard times and in easy times.

The richness of God’s promises to the believer are often not sought for, or not sought for with the hunger that God would fill. We are satisfied with mediocrity, and we ignore the many promises of God that have to do with a deeper walk. Says Tozer, “The stiff and wooden quality about our religious lives is a result of our lack of holy desire. Complacency is a deadly foe of all spiritual growth. Acute desire must be present or there will be no manifestation of Christ to His people. He waits to be wanted.”¹

There is meant to be so much more to the Christian life! It does not at all end with your decision for Christ. Nay! Instead it begins, and if the Bible is to be believed, a journey with Christ our Savior that continues throughout eternity. One of the most wonderful things I found in reading about the First Great Awakening was that Jonathan Edwards consistently had seekers actually seeking, waiting upon the God of their salvation to reveal himself. Sometimes that waiting included all night stands, before the altar of God, before the sweet release of the Spirit was obtained. Discipleship, is of course, a lifelong pursuit. Paul tells us this in several places, but one important place is, “But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord” (2 Corinthians 3:18). Paul is teaching us here the profoundly simple truth that it takes time to know the Lord, and be changed by him. Edwards knew that, and clinging to that simple truth, waited upon God to bring delightful changes. When we meet with God, how much better our initial experience might be if we were to wait upon him for an answer. Instead we often preclude any response that God might have by severely limiting the time that we spend to just the sinner’s prayer.

Lest you are wondering, I am not advocating for a charismatic experience of gifts here; I am advocating for the introduction to God to have more meaning for the new convert. I think we have simplified the process too much—if one prays certain formulaic words, then one must be saved. “We have been snared in the coils of a spurious logic which insists that if we have found Him we need no more seek Him.”² I know that time limits in our services are constrained, and everything frequently is limited to five or ten minutes of sharing the gospel, and then praying the sinner’s prayer. Such a way of leading someone to Christ would be a surprise to Paul, who spent his life knowing Christ in a deeper and deeper way, “That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death” (Phil. 3:10). Paul, at the end of his life, still was struggling to know his Savior better. That includes emotion as a valid means of knowing him. It is, after all, called the GOOD news, and good news as special as this ought to bring plenty of accompanying emotions. When we try to separate emotion from the process of accepting Christ, we are so foolish that we often believe we are helping the new convert. But tragically, we may be setting them off on a road never to find the knowable Christ beyond the salvation experience.

Perhaps I speak here from my own experience—I received Christ by myself, after hearing two friends explain the gospel for hours—and I wept for hours, both at the awesomeness of the God I had just discovered, and at the horrid turns I had taken to move away from him in my life. God showed me in a few seconds how he had been calling me and working in my life for many years, but he also showed me how at every turn I had rejected his message. Tears flowed from my eyes as I came to know his grace. I would that everyone would come to Christ in the same manner—to appreciate the wonderful love of an infinite God for a singular soul. There may be no better experience this side of heaven! But when we pray the sinner’s prayer with someone, are we giving God any opportunity to start a relationship?

Is God knowable? Is he more knowable by us today than yesterday? And to honestly know him, we need to spend time getting acquainted, just as we might when making a new friend. Tozer, in his day, did pray for revival, but it came not. For his part, he did not see the coming revival, but he knew his church was not ready for it. “We are beating the drum for revival and we are getting thousands of people to pray into the night for revival. But we might as well jump up and down on the altar of Baal, cut ourselves and cry, "Baal hear us, Baal hear us." We will not submit to diagnosis. We will not let God find out what is wrong with us. We will not let God know us through and through, and we will not listen to the man who tries to find out and minister to our needs.”³ It was, in every sense of the time, God who was ready for revival, even though many in his church were not. Edward Plowman, master of the history of the awakening, says, “I recall in the early days of the movement how Arthur Blessit all but wept into the telephone as he told of pastors turning away new converts he had sent. Ministers came right out and said they didn’t was blacks or hippies in their churches.”⁴

Indeed, many of his generation were praying for America to have revival, but they themselves were not at all ready for it. I realize their very prayers for the lost is the reason that God moved in such a mighty fashion. In a sense I owe my salvation to the men and women of the Fifties and the Sixties who were praying for revival. Chief among those who were praying I reckon was Tozer himself. In an irony only God can give, Tozer was both right and wrong. God brought the increase in spite of whether the church was ready or not. The Fourth Great Awakening came upon us, and in so many instances the staid churches were the very people who rejected it. Salvation for street people was the last thing they wanted to see, and many did their best to ignore the handiwork of God. In every awakening (except perhaps the Third) we find the established churches having a great deal of difficulty accepting the movement of the Spirit in their time.

Every awakening, without exception, had much emotion accompanying the decisions for Christ. This fact alone ought to wake us up to the reality that emotion can be a strong draw to the path of discipleship, that we may know Christ, and know him more fully unto the end of our days. Scripture is replete with urgings for us to take up the mantle of discipleship and find that wonderful and emotional bond that we ought to have with God, as a son might have to his father. Let me just name a couple. Hebrews 12:1 and 2 says, “Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Our race is to be lifelong, and we should be drawing ever closer to the author and finisher of our faith. Another? Try Romans 12:1 and 2, “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.” The struggle is daily, the cost is taking up the cross and following him day by day. In our churches today, we can look to those with white hair and a stooped disposition, for they frequently model to us what a Christ-transfigured life ought to be like. And just maybe, if we join in prayer for revival, we might yet see an outpouring of the very Spirit of God once more, before the great Coming that we all anxiously await.

1. Tozer, A.W.; Tozer, Aidan; Tozer, Aidan Wilson (2011-01-31). The Pursuit of God by A.W. Tozer (Special Kindle Enabled Edition with Interactive Table of Contents and Built in Text to Speech Features) (Illustrated) ... | The Writings of Aiden Wilson Tozer of) (Kindle Locations 182-184). Christian Miracle Foundation Press. Kindle Edition.
2. Tozer, A.W.; Tozer, Aidan; Tozer, Aidan Wilson (2011-01-31). The Pursuit of God by A.W. Tozer (Special Kindle Enabled Edition with Interactive Table of Contents and Built in Text to Speech Features) (Illustrated) ... | The Writings of Aiden Wilson Tozer of) (Kindle Locations 174-175). Christian Miracle Foundation Press. Kindle Edition.
3. A.W. Tozer. Reclaiming Christianity: A Call to Authentic Faith (p. 148). Kindle Edition.
4. Plowman, E. (1971). Meanwhile, back at the church. In The Jesus movement in America: Accounts of Christian revolutionaries in action (p. 122). Elgin, IL: David C. Cook.

Why is it so important for the church to find unity?

The Scripture says that Moses was the most humble man in all the earth. Paul reminds us that he is the chief of sinners. There are some commentators who would discount these sayings, but I believe them to be true, at least in the sense of how Moses and Paul looked at themselves. Moses was humble, and Paul viewed himself of little account in comparison with that which he should be. I think that such an outlook of ourselves is critical to finding one’s place before God. There is a very real sense in which we are nothing, of no account, a bunch of zeroes before God.

In a quaint saying of unknown origin, some wise person pointed out that we are a zero, and a zero remains such until it gets behind the right one. The Right One being God, and at that point, a Christian begins to find value in his life that he knew not before. Extending the metaphor a bit, and it is only a metaphor, I notice that a zero behind a one is a ten; when we get behind God, the value of our life increases, perhaps even ten-fold. Thus thinking of this as a metaphor seems to help us understand that we gain meaning from our relationship with God; conversely we lose meaning as we walk away from our God.

But to extend it even a bit further, what happens when two zeros, or two Christians get behind the right one? Our power and fruits are multiplied, perhaps a hundredfold. When three get together? A thousand-fold result in fruits? Is that not what Jesus himself promised? “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them (Matthew 18:20). The metaphor now seems to show us at least part of what God promises.

In John 13:34 and 35, it says: “A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” Our very testimony to a lost world, a world that God loves so very much, is dependent, not on maintaining a relationship to God, though that may be assumed, but rather on our relationships to each other. How we treat each other, how we act together before the world is a vital presentation of the very person of Jesus. The world will come to know Jesus through us, through our love for each other.

The love that one Christian feels toward another Christian can scarcely be described, yet I shall try. Perhaps it would be best to go back to the seventies. Yes, I was saved in what some are beginning to term the Fourth Great Awakening. Called out of total darkness into his marvelous light, I had much to learn, but one thing I did learn early—this calling had taken place in others, and we were all to be one family. I remember best the unfamiliar feeling of instant comradeship when meeting a new person who was a Christian. I remember, unparalleled in my experience up to that time, the wave of emotion that would almost overwhelm me as I realized that this person was a brother or a sister in the Lord, someone that I would be spending eternity with. Isn’t that the kind of everyday love that we should feel toward one another?

I believe that is one of the pillars of revival—that we must love one another and thus show the world that indeed we are changed by the power of God. In all the awakenings I have studied, people have minimized their differences of outlook on doctrine, and emphasized their unity of Christ. If the message of Christ is to again spread rapidly in America, it will be, in part, because Christians see the need to unite in Christ.
The lost world ought to be our primary aim, and the love that we show toward one another should be both deep and true. Our very testimony—that the world should know that we are his disciples depends upon it. I read a disturbing piece in a current Christian magazine today—the author’s thesis was that we ought, as Christians, be equally upset whether injustice is being worked on another group or whether it is being worked upon Christians. The basis of his article was correct—we surely should be upset whenever we see injustice, but the differences are profound. I believe part of the reason that we see such a horrific reaction to Christians being persecuted in far-off places is precisely because the average Christian realizes that these unfortunate folk are part of our family. If you son or daughter were involved in a crisis, or your mother or father, would it not become an immediate and deep problem for you? Praise God that most of us recognize immediately that family relationship, and it is a good thing, I think, that we tend to take it very personally when we read of our Christian brothers and sisters being persecuted. The author of the piece just went one step too far—personal is personal though it be remote because we recognize that we are a part of the same body. When part of that body is hurt, it is normal for the rest of the body to give it “undue attention” until things are made better.

Interestingly, Jesus did not say, as it might be thought he would, that we are known to be his disciples by our unselfish acts to the poor or the desperate or the needy. Many are the admonitions for us to be doing for them as our duty would require, but isn’t it interesting that Jesus says the world will know we are his disciples by our love toward one another? May the Lord knit our hearts and lives strongly together that the world may see and know that there is a Christ.