2025 ADVENT WEEK 4: ALMOST THERE

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This is the final advent sermon of Wade Jones, friend to me (Tom) and to the Life Together Churches network.

We are almost there. And it is appropriate in this Advent season to take that expression several different ways. We are almost to that moment when we celebrate the birth of the Incarnate God in Jesus the Messiah. We are almost to that moment when He breaks into our lives to win a decisive victory. We are almost to that moment when He makes all creation new and right under His complete authority and the new life begins in all its fullness. We are almost there…but we are not there yet. And God uses this Advent season so richly in my life, and in our lives, to help us experience the tension that comes from living in a space where the light is always just beginning to dawn. The sun has not risen yet, but He is about to rise. And as certain as we are of the dawn that is coming, as much as we are able to see by the glow that is beginning to give light, we still live in a world with shadows and dimness. As the Apostle Paul says in First Corinthians 13:12, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face.”

As I write this, Tom and Kari’s daughter Elise is back in the hospital, and she is struggling. By the time you read and discuss this, she may be back home and doing much better. That’s what I am praying for. We know that eventually she will be fully healed. That’s where our hope ultimately lives. But in the dimness now, we don’t know what the next days, weeks, and months hold. What a strange thing it is to live in the timelines of God, where our state a thousand years from now is in some ways more certain than our state tomorrow. And that is where we are. We wait for God to finish forever what He has begun in Jesus.

Once again, it is good to be with you at New Joy Fellowship and the other churches in Tom’s network. I am Wade Jones, a pastor at Priest Lake Christian Fellowship and part of the Hilperts’ extended family. And today we will engage the last Sunday of Advent together. It’s interesting to me the way I have bounced around the gospel of Matthew in this Advent season – beginning in chapter 24, then going back to chapter 3, forward again to chapter 11, and now, as Advent draws to a close, we go to almost the beginning of the gospel. We are going to skip reading the genealogy part, although there is much to learn from it. In fact, the Swiss reformer Zwingli said, “The Genealogy of Jesus, if understood correctly, contains the essential theology or the main message of the Reformation.” I won’t get into all that today, but I will point out that Matthew is grounding today’s passage in the history of Israel, beginning with Abraham, the father of the nation, going through David, the great king, to the lesser-known figures after the return from exile, and finally bringing us to Joseph, who is the husband of Mary, the mother of Jesus the Messiah.

For Matthew, it is critical to situate the life and work of Jesus firmly in the history of God’s work through His people Israel. Jesus is not some sudden departure from what God has been doing for centuries; rather, He is the culmination of all that God has been doing from the very beginning.  We will talk about some of that as we go through this passage today. Let’s go to the text now. I am going to read from the Gospel of Matthew 1:18-25.

18 The birth of Jesus Christ came about this way: After His mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, it was discovered before they came together that she was pregnant by the Holy Spirit. 19 So her husband Joseph, being a righteous man, and not wanting to disgrace her publicly, decided to divorce her secretly.

20 But after he had considered these things, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, don’t be afraid to take Mary as your wife, because what has been conceived in her is by the Holy Spirit. 21 She will give birth to a son, and you are to name Him Jesus, because He will save His people from their sins.”

22 Now all this took place to fulfill what was spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

23 See, the virgin will become pregnant
and give birth to a son,
and they will name Him Immanuel,

which is translated “God is with us.”

24 When Joseph got up from sleeping, he did as the Lord’s angel had commanded him. He married her 25 but did not know her intimately until she gave birth to a son. And he named Him Jesus.”

After taking us through the genealogy, Matthew begins this passage with another Old Testament allusion. He chooses the Greek word genesis for the birth of Jesus. This is not an unusual word choice, to be sure, but for any Jewish readers it would immediately connect them to the very beginning of the story. “In the beginning…” from Genesis 1:1, and now a new genesis, a new beginning, a new entry of God into His creation is here. The echoes of Creation surround the Incarnation and birth of the Son of God.

Matthew tells us this story primarily through Joseph’s eyes. In most of our Christmas storybooks or plays, we combine Luke and Matthew’s information so that we don’t leave anything out, but today I want to pay attention to how Matthew, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, has chosen to tell the story. Why does he share from Joseph’s perspective? I think he is being pretty intentional with this choice. And it connects to the genealogy he has just taken his readers through.

For us, as twenty-first century Gentile readers, the title “Son of David” is one we could acknowledge belongs to Jesus, but it’s one we don’t think about very much. In fact, at times, the Gentile church has tended to overlook (at best) the Jewish nature of our Messiah. We can forget that we are grafted into the root that God established in Israel, and sometimes that forgetting has had tragic consequences. But if when we read Matthew’s gospel, he is going to make it very clear that Jesus is the climax of a plan that God has been working on for generations, for centuries. And that plan is rooted in the children of Abraham.

For first-century Jews, the title “Son of David” was not an afterthought. It was a key component of their Messianic expectations. When the Messiah comes, He is going to be another David. And while Jesus will redirect some of those expectations, and outright refuse others, God’s people were right to expect King David’s successor to appear. Jesus is coming as the answer to hundreds of years of prayer and prophecy, which Matthew is going to repeatedly point out – including explicitly in this passage. So, it is important to Matthew and his readers to know that the lineage of Jesus through Joseph, who was His father legally if not biologically, can be traced back to David. Jesus is a descendant of the great king.

By pointing us to Joseph, Matthew may also be highlighting one of the aspects of response to God. In Luke’s gospel, Mary is more passive – she receives what God is doing in her and through her. In Matthew’s gospel, God acts, and His actions call for Joseph to take action in response.

(As an aside, neither of these are better or worse ways to respond. Both are appropriate ways that both men and women will respond to God at times. God is always the primary actor, but sometimes His actions call for us to wait patiently for Him to act, and sometimes His actions call for us to act in response. Matthew tends to emphasize the ways we can act in response – think about the judgment scene in Matthew 25, for example. We cannot act to deliver ourselves, but we can and do sometimes act in response to the deliverance that God has provided.)

So, who is this Joseph, besides a many-times-great-grandson of King David? Matthew describes him as a man who is righteous or just. That is, someone who is concerned with obedience to God. Don’t hear this in legalistic terms. Think about Psalm 119: the longest chapter in the Bible filled with 176 verses of inspired affirmation of the goodness of knowing what God wants from His children. Like the psalmist, Joseph knows that the way to a real life is through doing what God has asked us to do. And part of that is the sexual integrity He expects from His children.

Now, Joseph has found out that his fiancée is pregnant, and he is one of two people who can be absolutely certain that the baby is not his. At this point, he has the right to make this a scandal and make Mary pay for her betrayal, but, because he is a man who seeks the heart of God, he has decided not to make this any worse for her than it has to be. He is going to end the engagement quietly and let her go. (Many of you already know this: first-century Jewish culture took engagement very seriously. It was almost a marriage except that the bride and groom did not live together or have a sexual relationship until the wedding day. But in other ways, their commitment to each other was already considered to be in place. From all Joseph could have known, Mary had to have violated this covenant agreement – whether willingly or unwillingly — so he couldn’t, in good conscience, go forward with the marriage.)

Think about how painful this must have been for Joseph! We know how the story is going to develop, so it’s easy for us to just move right one from verse 18 to verse 20. But Joseph had to live in verses 18 and 19 for at least a little while. We don’t know how long. But even if it was just one afternoon, what a miserable, disappointing, heartbreaking afternoon that must have been for him. And Matthew doesn’t give us a calendar. This part of the hurt may have lasted for days or weeks before God tells him more of the story.

I want to sit with that thought for a moment. Joseph had done nothing wrong. He wasn’t jumping to any conclusions based on gossip. And the emotions he felt, the struggle he faced, was one I think many of us can identify with on at least some level. What do you do when it seems that a decision you thought you had made well, made prayerfully, made in line with God’s will, turns out to be something completely different than what you had expected? Yes, God is going to make it all right (at least as far as Joseph’s relationship with Mary). But that doesn’t negate the wrestling that Joseph had to do in the meantime, as he lived through verse 19.

And it’s likely that we are all going to spend significant parts of our lives in our own versions of verse 19. We’ve made thoughtful decisions. We have sought the will of God and wise counsel. We’ve prayed about it and set out on a course of action, confident that we are walking in the will of the God we honor. And then things take a turn. The business goes under. The friendship falls apart. The new house has black mold. And while we believe that God will always act to redeem, we don’t know what the timetable will be. How will we react in the meantime? As we wait through Advent, can we be okay as people who can still wait on God in trust when things appear to be falling apart?

Waiting doesn’t always mean passivity. Joseph is taking steps to deal with the crisis in his life, and he is trying to take them in ways that honor God. I find great comfort in this part of the story. When Joseph is about to miss what God is doing, even though he is trying to follow Him, God shows up. He doesn’t leave him hanging out there forever (maybe for a while – a painful while, but not forever). Instead, He shows up to Joseph with an angelic messenger in a dream – the first of three times that a messenger of God will appear to Joseph in a dream. And each time, God tells him to change course – to stop something he was planning to do or doing and begin to do something different. In a way, there is an echo here of what it will mean when John and then Jesus tell Israel to “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” It’s time to turn your head, change your direction, and go a different way so that you can participate fully in the surprising thing that your God is doing.

In this case, once he comes to terms with what God is telling him, I imagine this “repentance” would have been pleasant for Joseph. No, you don’t have to abandon this woman that you were planning to spend your life with. And no, she hasn’t been unfaithful to you. This is actually something that I have caused to happen. So, stop planning for the divorce, and resume your plans for the wedding and the marriage. You and Mary still have work to do together.

By the way, notice here that Matthew does not really try to explain or defend the birth of Jesus to a virgin mother. He, like Luke, just accepts it as something that is known by faithful believers to be true. The gospels give us hints that questions – and not polite ones – were asked about the circumstances of Jesus’ birth, and to an extent, the gospel writers are just setting the record straight. “This is what it was actually like.” No pagan mythological encounters. No detailed biological mechanics. Just a straightforward statement that God did this, and we accept it. Honestly, when we look at the rest of Jesus’ life, death, and finally resurrection, this is just one incredible part of a long miraculous story. And if our modern ears have trouble with it, that says more about us than it does about Jesus. If we are Christians, we believe in a God who does impossible things. The virgin birth is one of them.

Now, I do wonder if it was hard for Joseph to accept this at first. I mean, it does seem rather strange to us. But remember (and hear Matthew’s intended echoes here), this is not the first time that God has been involved in the conception of a child. Yes, this One is different. This One is unique – the unique Son of the Father who has existed together with Him and the Holy Spirit since well before the creation began. And also, this difference is in line with ways that God has acted throughout the history of His people. Joseph, as a righteous Jewish man, would have known that. Go back to the beginning of Israel, with Abram and Sarai (yes, before their names changed). God promised a son to a couple that was way too old to have a child. They struggled to believe it and even tried to find ways to help God with His plan (which was a terrible idea, as it generally is). But eventually, God gave Isaac. And He gave Samsom to Manoah and his anonymous wife. And He gave Samuel to Hannah and Elkanah. Does Joseph fully grasp the mystery that the Eternal God is already incarnate in his fiancée’s womb? I seriously doubt it. Does he know that he serves a God who has caused miraculous births before? Absolutely he does. And based on that knowledge of what God has done in the past, he is ready to accept that He is doing something similar now, and that God wants him – Joseph – to be a part of it.

So, Joseph acts. Now remember, his action is in response to God’s. Joseph doesn’t cause the Incarnation. Joseph doesn’t bring God to be Immanuel with His people, present with them as an embodied part of Israel. But he does have a part to play. And he does it. He puts down the idea of divorce and picks up his pregnant fiancée, along with the snide comments, and damage to his reputation, and possible loss of business that will come with it. He marries her and takes cold showers until the child is born. He accepts a burden that he can’t even imagine at this point, although it will start to become clear early on when he and his family have to flee the country. And in doing so, he becomes the man that will raise the Son of David and the Son of God.

Church, what surprising thing is God asking you to respond to in this Advent season? Oh, He isn’t going to ask any of us to raise His Son – that job only needed to be done once. But I assume that most everyone listening to or reading this message is trying to live a righteous and just life in response to the love of God shown to us in Christ Jesus. He has come, as this passage says, to save His people from their sins. And there are ways He would like us to respond to that. There are good works, as the Apostle Paul says in Ephesians 2:10, “which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.” A lot of them are going to be like the life Joseph was living before the dream. We listen to the Word of God and do what He says. Love our neighbors and our enemies, put off anger and drunkenness and greed, put on humility and gentleness and peace. But sometimes – and maybe more often than we might expect – there will be something specific. Something unique. A work that God prepared ahead of time planning for you – no one else, you – to do.

That work may be like what He asked of Joseph. It may require you to lay aside legitimate emotional hurt. It may require you to ignore the way it will look to others. It may mean that you end up having to leave a relatively settled, comfortable life behind for a few years or longer. It might even mean you attract the unwanted attention of the wealthy and powerful when your obedience threatens the cultural or political narratives that serve their purposes.

Here’s what we know. If we listen to God, what He accomplishes in and through us will be good. Not necessarily my specific good – I’m not sure what Joseph personally got out of all this. But the good of His people. The good of His creation. The good of His purpose and plan to “gather together in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven and which are on earth – in Him.” (Ephesians 1:10)

Jesus is coming. The new Creation is coming. The day of the Lord is coming. And if we listen to Him, if we respond to Him, if we lay aside our own agendas to agree with Him and live His way – we will rejoice when the sun finally does crest the top of the hill and we are fully immersed in the Light. Until then, we respond to Him and we wait.

ADVENT 2025, WEEK 3.

Thanks again to Wade Jones for helping us out during this time while we are trying to help our daughter, Elise.

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Matthew 11:2-11 – Advent Week Three
December 14, 2025

            New Joy Fellowship, thank you for letting me be with you again this week. I don’t think I actually introduced myself last week. My name is Wade Jones, and I am one of the pastors at Priest Lake Christian Fellowship in Antioch, Tennessee, as well as a good friend of your pastor Tom. I’m filling in through the Advent and Christmas season this year so that Tom and Kari can focus on Elise and her health. Lord, have mercy and heal Elise. Amen.

As we enter this week into the third week of Advent, we are again engaging with John the Baptist. Last week, Jesus was “off-stage,” and John was the focus, with the family of the Herods in the background. This week, the Herods are still an important part of the setting and the context, and the conflict between the kingdom of Herod and those like him and the kingdom of heaven remains a major part of the narrative. However, it is now John who has exited the stage, and Jesus has taken the center. This is what John saw coming in Matthew chapter three, and what he was looking forward to. But as we will see in today’s reading, the way things have unfolded in the time period between chapter three and chapter eleven has raised some questions in John’s mind. I want to look at two things in this passage: John’s question to Jesus and Jesus’ answer to John’s question. But first, let’s catch up on where we are in the story Matthew is giving us.

Not long after last week’s passage in Matthew 3, where John announced that he was preparing the way for the coming Anointed One of God, Jesus came to John for baptism and went into the desert. After His temptation there, Jesus hears about John’s arrest and begins His own public ministry. John stays in prison for the rest of his life, but he continues to hear about Jesus and His ministry. That’s what leads to the question John has in today’s passage. I’m going to read from Matthew 11:2-11.

When John, who was in prison, heard about the deeds of the Messiah, he sent his disciples to ask him, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?”

Jesus replied, “Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.”

As John’s disciples were leaving, Jesus began to speak to the crowd about John: “What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed swayed by the wind? If not, what did you go out to see? A man dressed in fine clothes? No, those who wear fine clothes are in kings’ palaces. Then what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. 10 This is the one about whom it is written:

“‘I will send my messenger ahead of you,
    who will prepare your way before you.’

11 Truly I tell you, among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist; yet whoever is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”

     In Matthew chapter three, John seems pretty clear about Jesus and who He is. Now, he has questions. And I think these questions are real. Some scholars suggest that John is really only asking these questions for his disciples’ benefit, or that he is not serious about his question in some way. I don’t think that takes John very seriously as a human being. And I think sometimes we are tempted to do that with the people we read about in Scripture. We want to make them “heroes of the faith,” and in that light, we have trouble processing the truth that they were (with the exception of Jesus, of course), human beings who were just as susceptible to sin and doubt and failure as we are. I think when we do that, we miss one of the main points of the story of the Bible, which is a story of a perfect and righteous God who continues to work redemptively with a bunch of flawed and sinful human beings. All that to say, I think John was having some real questions. And I think we can understand why.

            John was expecting a Messiah who would quickly bring judgment and fire, to set right the injustice of this world and putting the people of God in their rightful place as partners with YHWH in governing the world He had created. Instead, a Herod had locked John up (and will, in fact, kill him soon – you can read about that in Matthew 14). And meanwhile, Jesus doesn’t appear to be doing anything about the unjust systems of the kingdoms of this world. Instead, He is going about doing things that are good, to be sure, but not at all the good John was expecting.

            Can’t we relate to that? It is so easy, at least it is for me, to decide that based on what I know of God and His character, I can predict what He is going to do, and when He is going to do it. And then when He doesn’t operate on my schedule, or when things go in a direction I did not expect, I can fall into discouragement, doubt, and even despair. And all that can happen for me without the additional challenges of being incarcerated as a religious prisoner simply for saying things that God has said are true.

I think we should take John’s question at face value: Jesus, I really believed You were the Messiah who was coming to bring judgment to God’s enemies and relief to His people, but I don’t hear You taking the steps that would seem to me to lead to those results. Did I miss it? Is there another Messiah coming?

One other factor to consider here: remember, John is the last of the Old Testament prophets. That means he has sporadic, occasional experiences with the Holy Spirit. The Spirit of God comes on him, gives him words to speak or actions to perform as He did with Elijah, Isaiah, Ezekiel and so many others. But the Holy Spirit is not a permanent presence in John’s life – that is one of the things that shift for us with the death and resurrection of Jesus, but we’ll have to talk about that another time. And like any responsible prophet, John can question whether or not he heard the Lord as clearly as he thought he did. Prophets can make mistakes, not by being dishonest (unless they are false prophets), but simply by being human. John knows that he has sent followers to Jesus because of what the Spirit of God told him about Jesus. He feels some responsibility. And now, he needs to know if he has made a mistake.

What John does next is really wise. He asks Jesus directly. At least, as directly as he can while locked up. He sends some of his own disciples to Jesus with a direct question: was I right about You, or was I wrong? I love this approach from John. He doesn’t rely on his own ability to figure it out. He doesn’t let his potential frustration with Jesus, or with YHWH, drive a wedge between them. He doesn’t just stew in self-pity and disappointment. He goes directly with his questions and expects to receive an answer. And that in itself is a beautiful example for us. When God doesn’t act and respond in the ways that we expect Him to, what are we going to do with our discouragement? I encourage us to act like John – go directly to Him and ask, “What’s going on? Why are You doing things this way? This is not how I thought You would handle the situation – did I miss it? Are You who I think You are?”

Brothers and sisters, I believe if we are honest with ourselves and our faith, we are going to have questions like this. If God has not surprised you yet, follow Him a little longer. He will. And while the pleasant surprises rarely raise questions for me, the unpleasant ones definitely do. If John could ask this question, we can too. And I regularly do. In fact, we’ve been in the middle of those questions for years with Tom and his pain (as well as others in our fellowship at Priest Lake). And now, we ask them with Elise as well. “God, we know You can heal. We are confident that You intend to give us resurrected bodies that are fully healed. Why not do some of that now for these people we care about?” Whether or not we understand His answers – and sometimes I do, but sometimes I don’t – I think it is good and right for our relationship with Him for us to ask the questions.

And in Matthew 11, Jesus doesn’t seem to take any issue with the question John’s disciples bring to Him. He takes the question seriously, but He doesn’t take offense at it. And He answers it indirectly, which I think He does on purpose. So often, Jesus responds to a question by addressing the deeper needs under the question. He could just tell John’s disciples: “Yes, I’m the Messiah. John was right.” Instead, he answers the question in a way that is both practically wise, and more importantly, an invitation for John, John’s disciples, and the crowd following Jesus to engage more deeply with the question of what God intends to do in and through His Messiah.

Let’s dispense with the practical reason first. We’ve been talking for two weeks about the conflict between the kingdom of this world, which Herod and his descendants exemplify, and the kingdom of heaven, which John prophesied and Jesus is inaugurating. We already know that Herod the Great, the dad of the Herod who imprisoned John, wiped out all the baby boys in a village to eliminate a potential threat to his kingdom. There’s no reason to think that his son’s response will be any different. If someone in the crowd carries word back to this Herod that Jesus, John’s cousin, has declared Himself the new David, God’s anointed king over Israel, then this conflict may come to a head sooner than God intends. Jesus has work to do before His execution, and He doesn’t want word to get out too soon to the wrong people. Remember how often He tells someone He has healed, “Don’t tell anyone about this.”? His answer to John is a little bit cryptic, and it’s intended to be that way.

But the cryptic answer has another, bigger purpose. Even John, great as he was, has a different picture of what it means for Jesus to be Messiah. Jesus lists all these works that we, two thousand years later, think of as actions of the Messiah: healing the blind, the lame, the leper, returning the dead to life, speaking good news to the poor and oppressed. Because we know the whole story, because the writers of the gospels and the rest of the New Testament have explained some of the prophecies to us, we see these as Messianic actions. But first century Jews did not. Who is their model for God’s Anointed? David. Now, David did some pretty spectacular things – like the time he took down Goliath. But none of these miracles Jesus lists bring David to mind, do they? They sound like actions of God’s people, and they were actions first century Jews associated with the kingdom of heaven. But they weren’t supposed to happen yet. John was expecting the same order: first judgment on the rebellious powers of this world’s kingdom, then an age of healing, liberation, and real life will begin. They expect judgment to precede mercy.

I can understand their perspective. From one angle, what good does it do to heal someone, or return someone to life, or bring the poor out of poverty, or set free the slave, in a world that is still full of disease, death, oppression, and slavery? Doesn’t it make sense to abolish the cause first, then deal with the effects? What good does it do to proclaim freedom when the Herods and the Romans still appear to have power? They believe that until they have national liberation, healing and good news for the poor are not especially relevant – they can’t last. But Jesus is offering a new way of understanding God’s timeline. Judgment is absolutely coming – for Israel, for Rome, for every world power before or since – and one day, for us. But God is going to bring mercy first, then judgment. What Jesus is doing is bringing the reality of the kingdom of heaven into the middle of the world dominated by the kingdom of Herod. He is offering an appetizer for the banquet that is coming – a taste of the feast that God will set out for all His people in the new heavens and the new earth.

And He knows this is going to be a challenge. It’s not the kind of neat and tidy solution that we would like – or at least think we would like. But when I get worked up and stressed out in my desire for God to eradicate all evil, it’s good for me to ask myself, “What about the evil that remains in me? What about the evil that remains in those I love? I don’t really want God’s fire there yet, do I?” Our desire for God’s judgment is generally directed toward those people over there. But God doesn’t have “those people over there.” All human beings are His children, and He does not desire that any of them should perish, but that all should come into the life that the kingdom of heaven brings. So He initiates the breakthrough of the kingdom of heaven through the merciful healing, reconciling, and saving power of Jesus. In doing that, He challenges our belief that mercy is for “us” and judgment for “them.” And Jesus recognizes this challenge: “Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me.” In other words, “I know I’m doing this differently than you expected, John. In fact, I’m doing it differently than almost anyone expected. You’re going to have to watch and listen to me to develop your definition of Messiah; you can’t use your definition of Messiah as a filter for what I do and say.”

With John’s question, we enter a long section of Matthew’s gospel where Jesus is defining for us what Messiah is going to mean. John isn’t the last one to ask these questions. Religious leaders will ask them. Family members will ask them. The crowds around Him will ask them. And His closest followers will ask them. But Matthew is leading us to chapter 16, where Peter identifies Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of God. Not that they understand it all even then, but the disciples have come to a point where Jesus becomes the starting point for understanding God and what He is doing, instead of insisting that He fit into the models they have devised (not that they don’t still try – it takes the fact of the Resurrection and the presence of the Holy Spirit to fully deal with those misconceptions).

Brothers and sisters, this remains the challenge Jesus puts in front of us. I don’t agree with a lot of what the French philosopher Voltaire said, but he is right on with this one: “In the beginning God created man in His own image, and man has been trying to repay the favor ever since.” This is one of the primary reasons for the opposition to Jesus in His own day, and in every generation since then: We keep thinking we know what kind of God we want, and what we want Him to act like. Sometimes those pictures come from evil places in ourselves or our culture – but often, like with John the Baptist, they come from desires that sound right, and that are partially in line with God. But any picture of God that begins with me is, inherently, wrong. My brain, my heart, my will are never going to be mature and complete enough to actually develop a framework for God that is totally correct. Instead of beginning with me, I have to begin with God. And God has told us that His nature is most fully revealed in the Incarnation of the Son, Jesus. It is Jesus who displays most completely the nature of the Godhead in a way that we have some chance to comprehend. We won’t get it fully right – but it’s the only right place for us to begin. That is what Jesus is asking John to do in this passage: start with what you see me doing and hear me saying and let that define what it means to be the Messiah.

As we get ready to wrap up this week, let me pose some questions for each of us to ponder.

  • What do I see and hear God doing in my life and the world around me?
  • Where do I experience tensions between what God appears to be doing and the things I would expect Him to do?
  • When does it bother me for God to act with mercy first, especially when I don’t yet see the judgment coming?
  • How can the Holy Spirit help me remove the filters of my expectations for God so that I can see Him more clearly?
  • How do I develop trust that what God is doing is right even when it doesn’t make sense to me and may not meet the needs I feel most painfully in this moment?

Brothers and sisters, the kingdom of heaven is breaking into our lives, and sometimes it will do that in ways that disappoint or disturb us. This week, as we draw closer to the celebration of the birth of Jesus, may God help us receive Him as He is, and not as we would have Him to be. Amen.

ADVENT WEEK 2, 2025

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I was very excited to do an Advent series this year. I had a pretty strong sense of what we might do. However, before I was putting the final touches on my first Advent sermon, we found out that my youngest daughter has a rare and very serious kind of bone cancer. I’ve spent most of the past two weeks sitting by her hospital bed, along with my wife, her siblings, and may friends. I would deeply appreciate your prayers for her.

My friend Wade Jones, who did the Serenity Prayer series for us, called and offered to share his own advent sermons, so that I can be with my family in all the ways I am needed. I am very grateful to Wade for helping us out.

Without further ado, here’s Wade:

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<p>For some people, the player above may not work. If that happens to you, use the link below to either download, or open a player in a new page to listen.

You can also find us on Spotify at https://open.spotify.com/show/6KKzSHPFT466aXfNT2r9OD

(This will open to the latest sermon. You can search from there if you are looking for a previous one)

Matthew 3:1-12 – Advent Week Two
December 7, 2025

       This morning as I begin this sermon, I feel pretty significantly conflicted. On one hand, I am glad to be back with New Joy Fellowship and the churches in Tom’s network. And I always enjoy preaching during this season of Advent as we engage the coming of Christ (past, present and future). It is such a season of hope and joy and expectation. And at the same time, the reason I am preaching for a few weeks – the serious illness of Tom and Kari’s daughter Elise – is deeply painful. I feel an emotional tension between what I want Advent to be about, and what, this year, Advent is for the Hilpert family and all of us who love them.

       In some ways, this tension is inherent in Advent. Advent is full of God’s promises about what it means for Jesus to come as Messiah, and Advent takes place in the middle of a world in which those promises are not yet fully realized. And that isn’t really the main direction I’m going today, but it is impossible for me to start without acknowledging the truth of the pain that is an important part of our community here right now. So, I’m going to pray for Elise and her family and then move into today’s Advent message.

       Father, You love Elise and her family. You are able to heal. We have seen You heal. And we ask You to heal in ways that show Your Glory to the world and Your love to and for Elise. You tell us to ask You for what we need and desire, and so we ask for her complete healing. And even as we ask this, we also trust You to do what is good and right. Your will, not mine be done. In the name of Jesus our Deliverer, Amen.

       One of the most familiar figures of Advent is John the Baptist. Last of the great prophets of the Old Testament (I know Matthew is in the New Testament, but John really belongs to the stream before Jesus, not the one after). The one whose birth was announced to his priestly father in the temple and the announcement was so surprising that Zechariah’s reaction got him muted for months. The same child who leapt in his mother’s womb in recognition of the Messiah that Mary was carrying in her pregnancy. But all those stories come to us from Luke’s gospel, and we are reading today from Matthew’s. Since the Holy Spirit was at work on purpose in guiding each of those men in how they told the story of Jesus, let’s take a look at how Matthew is setting the stage for John the Baptist. What is he telling us about John’s role in announcing the coming of Jesus, the Advent of the promised Messiah?

       Matthew begins with a genealogy – not of John, of course, but of Jesus. And he tells us more about Joseph than Mary. An angel tells Joseph to stay with his pregnant fiancée. Magicians come from the East to visit and worship the baby after His birth. And then an angel appears again to Joseph warning him to run for Egypt because the local king, Herod, is trying to have the baby killed. Then Joseph has a third angelic dream telling him that Herod is dead, and they can come back home – but since Herod’s son is ruling Judea, they go north to Nazareth in Galilee instead.

Not a word about Zechariah, Elizabeth, or John yet. In fact, if I counted right, the personal name that is mentioned most often in the first two chapters of Matthew is actually Herod. More than Mary, more than Joseph, more than Jesus. I think that’s on purpose. Matthew is setting up the conflict between the heir of King David, the true Messiah, and the kingdom that Herod and those like him rule over. It’s in the middle of this conflict that we come to today’s passage: Matthew 3:1-12. Let’s read that together.

3 1In those days John the Baptist came, preaching in the wilderness of Judea 2 and saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” 3 This is he who was spoken of through the prophet Isaiah:

“A voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Prepare the way for the Lord,
    make straight paths for him.’”

4 John’s clothes were made of camel’s hair, and he had a leather belt around his waist. His food was locusts and wild honey. 5 People went out to him from Jerusalem and all Judea and the whole region of the Jordan. 6 Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River.

7 But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to where he was baptizing, he said to them: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? 8 Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. 9 And do not think you can say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham. 10 The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.

11 “I baptize you with water for repentance. But after me comes one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with[c] the Holy Spirit and fire. 12 His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”

Wow! John the Baptist hits the gospel of Matthew like a lightning bolt out of a clear blue sky. He just shows up. And he shows up dressed like Elijah, the Old Testament prophet who wore a garment made of hair and a leather belt around his waist (2 Kings 1:8). Now if Elijah is known for anything, it’s probably the conflicts he had with King Ahab and his wife, Jezebel: drought, famine, the epic divine battle with the prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel, the death sentence on Elijah’s head after that, and the confrontation over Naboth’s vineyard. Do you see what Matthew is setting up here? The parallels to John’s life and death? John is coming to denounce the way that God’s people have turned from their loyalty to Him. Oh, they don’t serve crude idols anymore (the exile pretty much broke that), but they are not wholeheartedly devoted to YHWH above all else and exclusive of all other priorities. They have their own agendas and aims. And all that means when God draws near, just as in the days of Elijah and Ahab, it’s going to create real issues for anyone who is trying to make the kingdom of this world work.

“In those days” … well, really, it’s been almost thirty years from chapter 2 to chapter 3. Jesus is now a grown man, although we don’t meet Him in today’s reading. We do hear about Him though. But that isn’t where John begins. And even the famous quote from Isaiah isn’t where John begins. The first words John the Baptist speaks here are these: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near.” There it is, right out in the open. The things Herod was afraid of when the Magi reported to him: another king is coming, and he is going to take your throne. In fact, the king is already here, although no one recognizes Him yet. Jesus will begin His public ministry in the next chapter. And here are the first words Jesus speaks when He begins to preach: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near.” (Matthew 4:17) He picks up where John left off when John got arrested.

What does it mean for us to “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near.” Let me start by telling what John (and later Jesus) is not saying. He is not saying, “One day you will die, and when you do you will go to either heaven or hell, so you need to say the sinner’s prayer now so that you can go to heaven when you die instead of hell.” John (and Jesus) might agree with all of that, but that is not what either of them are proclaiming in their preaching. No, the coming kingdom that they are proclaiming is not “coming someday, maybe thousands of years from now.” It literally “has come near.” When Jesus shows up, YHWH is beginning to reclaim His rule over all the nations. And John is looking out at the children of Israel and recognizing that yet again, as has happened so many times in their history, the children of Israel are not ready for their God to show up. He is coming, and if Israel does not change, it’s going to be a disaster.

That’s why we get the quote from Isaiah: Prepare the way for the Lord! God is headed this way. His arrival is imminent. And I have just looked at the roads, and they are a mess. Is this really the way you want to welcome your God? N.T. Wright observes that by and large, most of the time we keep our houses relatively clean. But the standard for day-to-day clean that we live in suddenly feels insufficient when you hear a knock on the door and it is the king. (Or maybe your mother or grandmother has come for a surprise visit.) Things that are “good enough” for just us suddenly look like glaring problems in the light of an important and prestigious visitor who we’d really like to impress – and maybe one we’d like to ask for a favor.

That is a part of what John is saying to Israel. You think you are ready for God to show up. Why? Because you’re doing better than the nations around you? Because you Pharisees rigorously keep the Law and honor the Prophets (or at least you try to)? Because you Sadducees are maintaining the Temple and its sacrifices? Yes, do all those things – but you are settling for half-measures. The God who is coming to take up His throne among you is not looking for surface compliance, or trying to do enough to get by, or checking the right boxes. He is asking for – really, He is demanding – all of it! He is coming to rule, not only Israel, but the entire world system that has been in rebellion against Him. And you who should be ready for Him to do that think that what you are offering is good enough to get by! John is telling them that they are sadly mistaken. The God of Israel and of all creation will not be satisfied with anything less than all of it. And they have not given Him all of it.

They need to repent! Now, what are they repenting of? We tend to think of repentance in terms of particular sins. I told this lie. I said this word in anger. I had too much to drink. I took a second look at her because she was hot. I responded judgmentally to an action my neighbor took. John would agree with repenting of all those – but it goes deeper. It’s not the actions themselves. It’s the attitude of rebellion against God that they indicate. Those actions are just symptoms of the real problem. And the real problem often comes down to this: I don’t really want God to be King. At least, I don’t want Him to be King of all of it. And that’s not going to fixed by a plan to “stop cussing in 21 days.” It requires a deeper change; a change of identity.

Look at what John says to the religious leaders (both groups): Don’t count on being children of Abraham to save you from the consequences of your self-centered lives. What you have as Jews is not enough (of course, for pagan Gentiles the gap is even greater, but John is talking to Jews). Is the throne room vacant and ready for God to take His seat, or do you still think that you have a right to determine how and when that will happen? Do you have a God that needs to meet your conditions and satisfy your requirements so that you can let Him be in charge? If that’s where you are, Israel – and it is! – the ax and the fire are coming for you.

I want to take a breath here. Some of you might be hearing me say, “You have to have it all together or when God shows up, you are condemned.” Let me be clear. That’s why we need Jesus. That’s why He came to us through the incarnation, born of the virgin Mary, through a life as God fully in the flesh of a man. That’s why the suffering, the death, the burial, and the resurrection were all needed. Because we were never going to get it right. We had to have God visit us in the person of Jesus Christ to take our humanity and transform it into something that could bear the weight of the presence and the glory of God. And He has done that. What John’s baptism could not accomplish, our baptism into Jesus has. We are saved by grace, through trust in the person of Jesus Christ, not by anything we do or don’t do. And also…

Israel was saved by grace as well. The Exodus was grace. The times of deliverance through the judges were grace. The victory over the Philistines through Saul and David was grace. The return from exile was grace. But grace does demand a response. And the response is to let the Gracious Deliverer be king. To turn our back on Herod in all his forms and live in the kingdom of heaven that is already breaking into our lives.

Israel was about to miss it. Not all Israel. Peter, James, and John got it (eventually). Mary Magdalane and Mary (Jesus’ mother) and Salome got it (maybe a little more quickly). Paul got it, even if he had to be hit over the head with it. But in large part, Israel missed it. And the hellfire of Rome would rain down on them and they would be demolished as a nation and a people in ways that would take hundreds of years or more to recover from. What John saw coming, what Jesus saw coming, came to pass. The kingdom of heaven showed up, and the people of God were not ready for it. God Himself appeared, and His people didn’t recognize Him or respond to Him.

Brothers and sisters, Israel was not unique. And they certainly weren’t uniquely wrong. So now, as those who have been grafted into Israel, how do we respond differently? Certainly, the presence of the Holy Spirit in us helps. But I think we face some of the same challenges as Israel – and we could miss it too. So, what does it look like for us to “repent, because the kingdom of heaven is here.”

The kingdom of Herod (and those like him) is sneaky. Most of us aren’t in danger of falling into the obvious rebellions. But the Pharisees weren’t either. And yet, they could fall into the trap of deciding for God what His reign would look like. For one thing, they knew who belonged and who didn’t. There were “good people” and “bad people,” and God was for the “good people” and against the “bad people.” And then Jesus showed up and hung out with all the wrong people. People who could do nothing for Him. People who were broken, needy, and a mess. And He chose to welcome them into the kingdom while some of the “good people” stayed outside. Am I trying to tell God who does and doesn’t deserve His mercy, His time and attention? Then I need to repent, because the kingdom of heaven is here.

The Sadducees had a different route figured out. They knew how important the Temple worship was, and they were willing to work with the kingdoms of this world to keep things going at the temple. If giving in a little to Herod here and Pilate there meant they kept freedom to worship as God had commanded, wasn’t that a worthwhile trade? A few decades later Christians would face the question of offering a pinch of incense to the emperor to escape death. It seems like a small trade-off, doesn’t it? But God, the King of heaven, wants all of us – not some, or most, but all. Am I willing to give the kings of this world something, even something small, to make it easier for me to live the way I want to live? Where am I willing to collaborate with principalities or powers because “that’s just what you have to do to get by in this world”?

John is not concerned about getting by in this world. And he ends up dead. Jesus was not concerned about getting by in this world. And he ends up dead. Stephen, James, Peter, Polycarp, Justin, and centuries of faithful followers decided that they would live for and in the kingdom of heaven. And they ended up dead. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near” isn’t a guarantee that you’ll die for your faith. In our context that seems unlikely at the moment. But I think it does guarantee that we will be uncomfortable. That as we live by the teachings of Jesus, we will seem ridiculous. That our abandonment of common sense for the Word of God will cost us in our jobs, our finances, our relationships. But the thing is, the kingdom of heaven really is here. Jesus really has already begun to reign. And we are called to be citizens of the kingdom of heaven forever, beginning now. May God help us by His Holy Spirit to do just that. Amen.

PHILIPPIANS #2: EVERYDAY SAINTS

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The Holy Spirit, through Paul, begins this letter by mentioning several significant names. Even today, these names apply to you and me in various important ways.

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Philippians #2. 1:1-2. Every Day Saints

1 Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus, To all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi, with the overseers and deacons:2 Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Philippians (1:1-2, ESV)

There is a great deal in just these two verses. I’m not sure that Paul himself knew how much significance would attach to this simple greeting, but it is the Holy Spirit who makes the Bible living and active, and the Spirit wastes no words. Paul’s words here are consistent with important truths that are found elsewhere in the Bible.

In the first half of my life, back when people actually wrote letters, they “signed” them at the end. If you didn’t recognize the handwriting, or if it was printed/typewritten, you looked at the end to see who it was from. In ancient times, however, it was the opposite. Letter writers in the first century A.D./C.E. stated who was writing at the very beginning of a letter. So Paul and Timothy identified themselves as the writers of this letter to the Philippians at the beginning. In fact, in a way, Paul begins the letter with a little bit of “name dropping.” I’ll explain.

Often, in his letters, Paul included his title as an apostle. It seems to me that he normally did that in situations where it was important that the senders recognize his calling, and therefore his authority to say what he said. He even does this in his letters to Timothy, his dear friend. However, I think he included his title in Timothy’s letters so that if Timothy got pushback when he taught and ministered as Paul urged him to, Timothy could say: “Look, the apostle Paul himself said this in his letter to me.” But here, Paul simply identifies himself as a servant of Christ Jesus (and Timothy also). There are several reasons. First, this letter speaks warmly and affectionately to the Christians at Philippi. Paul isn’t worried about their doctrine, and he doesn’t need to remind them of his authority in Christ. He’s writing as a friend.

By adding Timothy’s name, I don’t think he means to say that Timothy helped to compose the letter. The letter sounds like pure Paul, based upon his other writings. Instead, Timothy is included because he was well known to the Philippians, wished to send them his greetings, and surely he affirmed everything Paul was saying. It is possible that Timothy acted as a secretary, and took down Paul’s dictation of the letter.

I think Paul avoids the title of “apostle” because throughout much of the letter he speaks on the theme of humility. So, even as “Jesus did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, (2:6)” so Paul demonstrates that he doesn’t need to grasp at the title of honor: “apostle.”

Rather than “apostle,” Paul identifies himself as a servant of Christ Jesus. The word that the ESV translates “servant” is the Greek word “doulos.” (in this text it is actually “douloi,” the plural form of the word). We don’t really have a good English word for doulos (the feminine singular is “doule”). Literally, it means “slave.” But douloi (slaves) in the ancient Roman Empire were often very different from our modern idea of slaves. Many, if not a majority, of douloi were slaves only for a fixed period of time, often about twenty years. Many of them were paid. They often held very trusted positions, handling money and making business decisions for their masters. Many were allowed to marry, and their children did not automatically belong to their master. Even so, they were more than employees. A doulos/doule was considered a member of his/her master’s household. The upholding of the honor of the household was a serious business, and they were expected to be part of it. They could not seek other employment, and they were not free to leave unless given a certificate of manumission (manumission means “officially released from slavery”). Generally speaking, they had to do whatever their owner told them to do, and they could be physically punished if they refused.

So you see, they had more freedom and opportunity than, for example, the African slaves used by Southern plantation owners in America before the American Civil War. Even so, douloi were not exactly free. The closest equivalent I can think of in modern life would be an active-duty member of the military. An active duty Marine, for example, owes a certain period of his life to the Marine Corps. During that period, he must obey those who outrank him, and he must, generally, do what the Marine Corps tells him to do. He can’t simply say “I don’t want to,” or hold an outside job, or live wherever he feels like living. He can be punished for disobedience. The Marines “own” him for a period of time, even though he is paid, and might rise to a position of great responsibility within the Corps. For as long as he is a Marine, his mission in life is what the Marines tell him it is. Certainly, a Roman doulos/doule was worse off than a modern Marine, but somewhat comparable even so, and not nearly such a bad position compared to a plantation slave.

Here’s the startling thing: Partway into the letter, Paul says that Jesus Christ came as a doulos. So when Paul identifies himself and Timothy as slaves, he is doing so in imitation of his master, Jesus.

There’s another thing about Paul’s choice of words here. He wants us to understand that if we are Christians, all of us, also, should become douloi of Jesus Christ. In Jesus, we have the best Master possible. But our position is one where we do not belong to ourselves. We belong to Jesus. We ought to do what Jesus tells us to do. We can end up with a lot of freedom and responsibility, but it should all be in service to Jesus. Our lives are not our own—they belong to Jesus.

Paul, after calling himself and Timothy douloi, now has some words that he calls the Philippians. First, he calls them “saints.” The literal Greek translation of hagiois is “holies.” The Latin translation of it is sanctus, from where we get our English “saints.” Unfortunately, church history and modern culture have combined to lead us to misunderstand what it means to be a saint. In the understanding of many people today, a saint is a particularly holy person; someone whose personal holiness is much greater than that of “ordinary Christians.” The Roman Catholic church even has created specific criteria, and an institutional process for deciding if someone was a saint. A saint, in these terms, is often someone who died for their faith. In addition, someone of heroic virtue might become a saint (think Mother Theresa here, who is now known as Saint Theresa). Finally, if well-attested miracles were attributed to a person, those might qualify them for sainthood.

However, none of that church tradition reflects what the New Testament clearly says about sainthood. In the New Testament, there is only one way to become a saint, and there is only one kind of saint. Saints are people who have entrusted their lives to Jesus and received his grace. To put it simply: according to the New Testament, every true Christian is a saint, a “holy.”

The reason for this is that all of the holiness that every Christian has within them is imparted by Jesus Christ. We have that teaching right here in Philippians. Paul writes in chapter 1, verse 11 that he wants his readers to be: “filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ.” In other words, their righteousness comes not from their own works, but through Jesus Christ. In the same way, in chapter 2, he says:

13 for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. (Philippians 2:13, ESV)

In other words, we are saints because of God’s good work in us, not our  own “personal holiness.” To the Corinthians, he wrote:

21 For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. (2 Corinthians 5:21, ESV)

Through Jesus, we are “the righteousness of God.” Along this same theme, Romans 8 says:

1 There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. 2 For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. 3 For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, 4 in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. (Romans 8:1-4, ESV)

We dare to call ourselves “holies” not because we have any holiness we have gained for ourselves, but rather, because, through faith, God has included us in the holiness of Jesus Christ. If we say, “I’m no saint,” we are insulting the holiness of Jesus Christ himself, because that is what God has put into us. When we look at it that way, if we truly believe Jesus is who he claimed to be, we must agree that we are saints. Otherwise, we are saying that Jesus himself is not holy. On the other hand, the only way to boast about our holiness is to boast about Jesus Christ.

27 Then what becomes of our boasting? It is excluded. By what kind of law? By a law of works? No, but by the law of faith. 28 For we hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law. Romans (3:27-28, ESV)

28 God has chosen what is insignificant and despised in the world — what is viewed as nothing — to bring to nothing what is viewed as something, 29 so that no one can boast in His presence. 30 But it is from Him that you are in Christ Jesus, who became God-given wisdom for us — our righteousness, sanctification, and redemption, 31 in order that, as it is written: The one who boasts must boast in the Lord. (1 Corinthians 1:28-31, HCSB)

So, for the sake of Christ, we ought to insist that we are indeed saints, which is to say, people who have been made holy. However, to say that is not to lift ourselves up, but rather it glorifies the Lord, who makes us holy. Part of the idea of holiness is that we are “set apart.” A holy thing is used for special purposes. So, we are set apart from those who reject Jesus. That doesn’t make us intrinsically better than others. But it does mean that there will always be some tension between us and the ways of the world. Because we are set apart by the holiness of Jesus, we don’t fully belong to the world. The ways of the world are different in many respects from the way we are called to live. Jesus put it like this:

18 “If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. 19 If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. (John 15:18-19, ESV)

Paul drops two more names, in addition to servants and saints: overseers and deacons. He writes to “all the saints who are at Philippi, with overseers and deacons.” He doesn’t mean that overseers and deacons are not saints. But he is mentioning two main types of church leaders during New Testament times.

Let’s start with overseers. This is the Greek word episkopos, from which we get our English word Episcopal. It also evolved, via Latin and Old English, into our English word: “bishop.” When Paul used it, however it simply meant “overseer,” or, in today’s language: “supervisor.” In the New Testament, it is used interchangeably with the word for “elder” and also “pastor.”

5 This is why I left you in Crete, so that you might put what remained into order, and appoint elders in every town as I directed you— 6 if anyone is above reproach, the husband of one wife, and his children are believers and not open to the charge of debauchery or insubordination. 7 For an overseer, as God’s steward, must be above reproach. He must not be arrogant or quick-tempered or a drunkard or violent or greedy for gain, 8 but hospitable, a lover of good, self-controlled, upright, holy, and disciplined. 9 He must hold firm to the trustworthy word as taught, so that he may be able to give instruction in sound doctrine and also to rebuke those who contradict it. (Titus 1:5-9, ESV)

In Acts 21:1 Paul called the elders of the churches in Ephesus to meet with him. In verse 28, he says:

28 Pay careful attention to yourselves and to all the flock, in which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to care for the church of God (Acts 20:28, ESV)

1 Peter chapter 5 has all three terms together:

1 So I exhort the elders among you, as a fellow elder and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, as well as a partaker in the glory that is going to be revealed: 2 shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight, (1 Peter 5:1-2, ESV)

The word “shepherd” in Peter’s letter is the verb form of “pastor,” and “oversight” is the verb form of overseer/episkopos. So we can see that all three words are used interchangeably in the New Testament.

Basically, churches were led in spiritual growth by a team of elders/overseers/pastors. Some of those elders might have been more prophetically-minded, others more teaching-minded, others more mission minded. But the people responsible for leading house churches, and groups of house churches, were known as elders, or overseers, or pastors. So Paul is making special mention of those were responsible for the spiritual leadership of the church.

Paul also mentions deacons. Deacons were people who were responsible for the financial and physical part of the church. The appointing of the very first deacons came about in this way:

1 At that time, as the number of disciples grew, Greek-speaking Jews complained about the Hebrew-speaking Jews. The Greek-speaking Jews claimed that the widows among them were neglected every day when food and other assistance was distributed.
2 The twelve apostles called all the disciples together and told them, “It’s not right for us to give up God’s word in order to distribute food. 3 So, brothers and sisters, choose seven men whom the people know are spiritually wise. We will put them in charge of this problem. 4 However, we will devote ourselves to praying and to serving in ways that are related to the word.” (Acts 6:1-4, NLT)

So, while elders/overseers imitated the apostles by focusing on prayer and teaching the word, setting the spiritual direction of the church, the deacons were involved in helping out with the practical concerns of the church: the distribution of money, service to the poor and elderly, and so on. The elders/overseers generally worked together with the deacons. I believe this is why Paul mentions both overseers and deacons. All of the house churches at Philippi got together and sent Paul some financial support—that is one reason he’s writing this letter. So Paul specifically mentions overseers, because they would have prayed about the gift, and then counseled the churches to go ahead with it, and the deacons would have been the ones who took the practical steps to make it happen.

 I don’t think this format of church leadership is necessary for all churches; the New Testament doesn’t command it. But I’m inclined to think that a Biblical way of doing church is a pretty good model.

There is a final name that Paul drops: that of Jesus Christ. He and Timothy are not just dulois/servants in general, they are servants of Jesus Christ. The Philippians (and us) are not sort of generalized saints. We are saints only in Jesus Christ. Finally, Paul declares grace and peace to us from God our Father, in the name of Jesus Christ.

Let’s change gears: how might this apply to your life? Do you know that you are a saint? Behavior follows belief. If you believe you are fundamentally sinful, you won’t be able to stop yourself from sinning. But if you trust that Jesus has imparted his holiness into your life, you begin to see things differently, and act differently. I don’t mean anyone gets perfect on this side of heaven, but I am convinced that we act as we believe. If we believe we are “holies” our behavior will look much more like that is true than if we don’t believe it. It helps to remember that we are holy in Jesus Christ, not on our own.

How about the name of “servant/slave?” Do you believe that you fully belong to Jesus, that your life is not your own, but his? From birth until death, God’s intention is that you are on a mission in this world, a mission that is from and with God. He supplies what we need to pursue that mission, but our lives are for him, not for ourselves. And Jesus is not asking of us anything he did not do himself. He came in human form, and became a servant/slave himself.

What about the way Paul honors church leaders? I have no big complaints about the people I serve, but there are many of you visiting Clear Bible whom I have never met. Do you honor your local pastors, elders and deacons? Do you let them know that you appreciate their service, which can sometimes involve self-sacrifice? Do you prayerfully listen to your overseers/elders/pastors when they teach, or give you personal counsel?

Finally, how do you remind yourself of all the treasures you have in Christ? Do you know, remember that you are in Christ? What difference does that make in your life? If it doesn’t make much difference, why not? Or, are you someone who is not yet in Christ? To receive him is simple. Turn away from your sins (you won’t be able to do it perfectly, but start with the intention to do your best). Lean on Jesus. Ask him, in your own words, to take your life, to bring you into his kingdom.

Let the Holy Spirit apply these names to your life right now.

PHILIPPIANS #1: INTRODUCTION

Paul and his companions were a part of some very eventful happenings in the Roman Colony of Philippi.

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PHILIPPIANS #1: BACKGROUND, INTRODUCTION AND THE ENTIRE BOOK

We are going to begin a new series on the book of Philippians. I am excited for this. Philippians is one of my favorite books. It is a letter, written by the apostle Paul, to the Christians in the city of Philippi. Clearly, Paul had a warm relationship with the Philippian Christians, and the whole book is suffused with affection and joy.

Let’s start with a little bit of background on the city of Philippi, and some of the people and events associated with it.

In the book of Acts, we first hear about the city of Philippi shortly after Luke joins Paul and his companions. Luke was in a city named Troas on the western coast of Asia minor, not extremely far, as the crow flies, from Philippi. This is the first time that Luke, in his book of Acts, starts to write as if he himself were part of the events. Instead of writing: “they went and did this,” as he did for the first fifteen or so chapters of the book of Acts, Luke writes: “we went and did this.”

Luke traveled with Paul and his companions to Macedonia, after Paul had a vision in a dream that he was supposed to proclaim the gospel in that region. They landed at a Macedonian port (Neapolis), and then the companions traveled together to Philippi, which Luke describes as “a leading city of Macedonia.” After the events which took place in Philippi, it reads as if Luke is no longer accompanying Paul and his companions. In Acts chapter 20, Luke once again rejoins Paul—at Philippi—as he travels towards Jerusalem. The best guess is that this is after a period of about eight years. It seems clear that Luke made Philippi his home for that eight year period.

Paul’s first visit to Philippi was quite eventful. These events are described in Acts chapter 16:11-40. I will read these verses on the audio version of this sermon. If you are reading my words right now, I encourage you to stop for a moment, and go and read those same verses in your own Bible.

(I’m trusting that you have now read those verses). So, obviously, some major and unusual things took place with the beginnings of Christianity in Philippi. It was a very exciting time for the new Christians there.

Philippi was named after King Philip of Macedonia, father of Alexander the Great. Later it was conquered by the Romans, and was the site of a decisive battle in the Roman civil war that took place as a result of the assassination of Julius Caesar (this was roughly 42 years before the birth of Jesus Christ). Twelve years later (30 BC), when Octavian/Augustus became Caesar, he made Philippi a Roman colony. This meant that citizens of Philippi, which is in Macedonia (north of Greece) had exactly the same rights and privileges as Romans who lived in Rome. City business was conducted in Latin, rather than Greek. Citizens were exempt from Roman taxes, and could own property just like Romans who lived in Rome. This was one reason that Paul’s status as a Roman citizen was such a big deal to the Philippians. They had violated his civil rights as a Roman in a Roman colony. To them, it was a shameful act, and they wanted it forgotten and covered up immediately.

I have done a little bit of ministry that sometimes reminds me of Paul and Silas (or Barnabas). My great friend Peter Churness and I have traveled to meet people we had not met previously, and stayed in strangers’ homes while we did some teaching, and eventually helped organize churches in those places. Some of you listening or reading are among those people. I have to say that staying in someone’s home, there is a closeness of fellowship that develops, especially if you keep in touch over a period of time. When we read Paul’s letter, we can hear the warmth he feels for these people.

So, when did Paul write this? It appears that he wrote it while he was awaiting trial in front of Caesar. In the book of Acts, near the end, we read that Paul, facing charges from local Jewish authorities who wanted him dead, made an appeal for Caesar to hear his case. This was his right as a Roman citizen. It appears that Paul wrote to the Philippians when he was in Rome, waiting for that trial. So, this would have been shortly after the ending of the book of Acts, in about 62 AD. Just from reading between the lines, it seems like the Philippians sent Paul a gift of money to support him while he awaited trial. It was delivered by a messenger named Epaphroditus and others. The others presumably returned to Philippi (about 800 miles away) but Epaphroditus was ill, and had to stay with Paul for some time. After he recovered fully, Paul wrote a letter to send with him back to the Philippians.

Some of you know how important I think it is to read the Bible the way it was written, that is, book, by book. You know that I also think it is vitally important to understand the textual context of any given verse. Happily, Philippians is a short book, which can be read quite quickly. So, I will complete this message by reading the entire book to you, so that we understand the context of the various parts. If you are a reader, more than a listener, please go and read the whole book of Philippians right now. It shouldn’t take much more than 20 minutes. Have some paper and a pen handy and briefly note down the verses that speak to you, and why. Next time, we’ll start in on the text in detail.

LAMENT #6: MY GOD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?

Once again, during this series I encourage you to listen to the sermon, rather than simply reading the text. My right arm is in a sling, and I cannot type effectively. I am using voice dictation software to type these words, as well as any other content that I add to pastor Kevin’s message. Sometimes the results are not entirely accurate. I add things in the audio message that I cannot type out.

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Grumbling vs Lamenting #6. Psalm 22

Today I want to explore the lament of Jesus from the cross. He is echoing the lament of David in Psalm 22. The Lord Jesus only quoted the first line, but it will be good to read the first two verses:

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

    Why are you so far from saving me,

    so far from my cries of anguish?

My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer,

    by night, but I find no rest.

(Psalm 22:1-2)

    Have you ever stopped to consider that Jesus actually felt forsaken, abandoned and alone in those moments when He was languishing on the cross? Or, is it your opinion that He said these words so we’d connect the dots back to this messianic psalm which predicted the events of the day He was crucified?

   To be entirely honest, until recently I (Kevin) never seriously considered that Jesus actually felt forsaken. I suspect that this is because I imagined that as God the Son He couldn’t possibly have felt that way. I don’t think I’m alone in this perception. However I remind myself that Jesus was not only God the Son, He was also an actual human being who felt psychological pain (“…he was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief”– Isaiah 53:3) and physical pain (he experienced scourging, the crown of thorns and crucifixion, an unthinkably brutal form of torture which inevitably ends in death– Matthew 27:27-35). 

Scripture shows us that during the course of His life, first as the son of Mary and Joseph and later as an adult, he sat at the feet of elders and learned (Luke 2:41-51), He experienced physical maturation (Luke 2:52), hunger (Matthew 4:2), thirst (John 19:28), exhaustion (Matthew 8:24) and such things as anger and frustration (Mark 9:19). Also, we know that He experienced the unsettling effects of being tempted “in all ways as we are” and yet He didn’t sin (Hebrews 4:15).

I have come to believe that Jesus truly felt forsaken while He was on the cross. I  base this perspective on some things Jesus said and some things that we observe about Him.

In the Garden, on the night of His betrayal, He admitted to His followers, “I’m overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (Matthew 26:38). Note the word “overwhelmed.” Such a strong word. Dictionary.com defines it as “being completely overcome in mind or feeling.” Overwhelmed? Yes, that’s the word the scholars think best represents the Greek word which is used in this text. Too strong for your taste? Some translations use the words, “crushed,” or “consumed.” Much to think about. Then, there’s “sorrow” so terrible that it was lethal (“unto death”).

Then we have His famous prayer that ends with “Not My will, but Yours be done.” We love to give that our attention but it would be good for us to spend some time thinking about, maybe even camping on: “Father, if possible, let this cup pass Me by,” before saying, “Yet not My will…”

Jesus had a will that was independent of His Father’s. He clearly reveals, doesn’t He, that He wanted the cup of suffering to “pass Him by?”

Then if we go back in the narrative about Jesus’ suffering, in the days leading up to His time in the Garden of Gethsemane, we see that He acknowledges to His followers, “I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished” (Luke 12:50). Have you ever thought of Jesus being distressed? He was and He didn’t hide it from His disciples.

Then we see that His disciples observed, “And being in agony…his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground” (Luke 22:44).

Based on these things, can you consider that your Savior actually felt forsaken? Might this help you when you feel abandoned and alone in your suffering?

(Tom now) And the Bible seems to tell us that we do not have to suffer complete abandonment by God, like Jesus did. In fact, Scripture teaches that through faith, we live in spiritual union with Christ. In fact the way the apostle Paul puts it is this:

20 I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. Galatians 2:20

The idea is that Jesus himself lives his life through ours. That means that when we suffer, Jesus himself suffers along with us. In other words we ourselves are never abandoned or forsaken in the way that Jesus was. He is with us even in suffering; perhaps, especially in suffering. So in the first place, as Kevin says, we can know that Jesus understands what we are going through. But even more, we can lean on him, trusting he is there even when we don’t perceive him, knowing that he is feeling the abandonment and hopelessness along with us.

I want to close with some words from the Gospel transformation study Bible. It comes from the note found at Luke 22:42:

 Jesus has previously given his disciples (including us) instructions on praying (11:1–13; 18:1–8). Here he models one of the most important and universal truths about what our prayer life should be like. Jesus expresses his desires and even laments before the Father with full honesty and humility (22:44). He desires to be delivered from the pain and suffering he is facing (v. 42). Yet there is something in his prayer that is even more important than his requests. It is his acknowledgment of God’s sovereignty and goodness in all situations and his glad submission to whatever God’s greater plan might be: “Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done” (v. 42). This is the banner that should fly over all of our prayer requests. It is the heart of childlike faith that honors God and blesses us. We can pray bold prayers, knowing that God is our Father, through our adoption based on the work of Christ. Yet we can also rest in confidence that since he is our Father, even his denials of our requests can only be what is best for us—as can be his granting us “far more abundantly than all that we ask or think” (Eph. 3:20).

GRUMBLINGS vs LAMENTING #1. WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE?

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Numbers 14:1-4; 26-28 & Psalm 142

When I was a young pastor, I used to meet weekly with another pastor who was about 18 years older than me. His name is Kevin McClure. We met almost every week for about seven years. Kevin and I encouraged one another, learned from one another, and became friends.  I don’t see him very often any more (2 times in the last two years) but I still consider him a dear friend, and precious brother in Christ.

Kevin writes a weekly email called the E-pistle. The E-pistles are generally fairly short and pithy. Kevin might take several weeks to offer short teachings on one subject, and then move on to another topic. Recently, he started an E-pistle series on the topic of Lament and Grumbling. I found his thoughts interesting and helpful.

For the next several weeks, I’m going to be laid up after rotator cuff surgery, which will add a layer on top of my “normal” pain. So, I got Pastor Kevin’s permission to use his E-pistles on Grumbling vs. Lamenting. I know that many of you prefer to listen. Kevin is retired, which means he is too busy to record these as sermons 😊. So, with Kevin’s permission, I’ll read what he has written, and, at times, add a few thoughts of my own. I probably won’t mess much with what Kevin has written, because I won’t be able to type for a few weeks. So if you normally read, you might want to consider listening to this series instead; otherwise you might miss some of the sermon. Usually, I’ll probably use 2-3 E-pistle episodes as one sermon. In general, I would say that 80-95% of what I say in the recording will be Kevin’s words, and, depending on the message, 5-20% will be clarifications or other comments that I add.

If you are blessed by this series, please consider leaving a comment below, and I’ll share the comments with pastor Kevin McClure.

Ever grumble? If you are familiar with Scripture, you know that God doesn’t look kindly at it (Numbers 14:27). He was very upset by the grumbling and murmuring of some of the people whom He liberated from Egyptian slavery. In spite of what God had done for them when He provided a miraculous deliverance from Egyptian oppression, in spite of the way He led them through the Red Sea and demonstrated His presence quite supernaturally in a pillar of fire by night and a pillar of loud by day– in spite of all of this, some of His people whined every time it looked like they’d be facing another trial. There seemed to be little trust in God. Grumbling and murmuring dishonors God and sets you up for additional trouble.

The New Testament isn’t soft on grumbling either. Check out the following words by Paul: “Do everything without complaining or arguing…” (Philippians 2:14,15). James takes a dim view of it too: “”Do not grumble against one another, brothers, so that you will not be judged…” (5:9)

On the other hand, God seems to welcome laments. These have the tone of a complaint but they are different. How? The people who are recorded as lamenting are worshippers, psalmists, who like the murmurers are suffering, but unlike them, they turn to God in their pain. They ask the questions every suffering person will eventually ask if he or she is actually paying attention. They ask, “Why?” and “How long?” and “Where are You?”

Jesus Himself lamented. Remember, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken me?” That’s a lament. Lamenting is an honest way to pour out your troubles and invite God into them.

Over the course of the next few weeks I want to address the upside of being absolutely honest with God about the pain you are feeling in your suffering– identifying it and presenting it to Him to invite Him into it. We’ll explore a number of things, eventually getting to the three questions the lamenting psalmists ask.

During the days of Moses’ leadership, grumblers incurred God’s wrath because they were ungrateful and because they did not invite God into their concerns. In essence, they spurned God, belly-aching, but not inviting Him in.  Lamenters also face pain. But in their suffering they cry out to God. Consider Psalm 142:

A psalm of David, regarding his experience in the cave. A prayer.
1 I cry out to the LORD;
I plead for the LORD’s mercy.
2 I pour out my complaints before him
and tell him all my troubles.
3 When I am overwhelmed,
you alone know the way I should turn.
Wherever I go,
my enemies have set traps for me.
4 I look for someone to come and help me,
but no one gives me a passing thought!
No one will help me;
no one cares a bit what happens to me.
5 Then I pray to you, O LORD.
I say, “You are my place of refuge.
You are all I really want in life.
6 Hear my cry,
for I am very low.
Rescue me from my persecutors,
for they are too strong for me.
7 Bring me out of prison
so I can thank you.
The godly will crowd around me,
for you are good to me.” (Psalms 142, NLT)

David probably prayed this before he wrote it. This “complaint” bubbled out of him when he was in a cave. When was he in a cave? He may have been in a cave a  time or two when he was shepherding his dad’s sheep, but more than likely, he’s talking about the time he was hiding from King Saul, who was trying to kill him (1 Samuel 24). In this psalm, he specifically mentions being in trouble. So, if he’s referring to the incident I think he is, his very life was at risk. That’s serious trouble. Unlike a grumbler who would simply harp about his situation, he talks to the Lord. Why? Because God had shown David  many times that He is trustworthy. David didn’t hide from God that he didn’t like his situation. It’s okay to do that, especially if  you invite God into it. 

     It takes faith to invite God into  your troubles. You might be low on faith at the moment. When you go through trouble, your faith takes a lot of hits and it can influence you to question whether God really cares. You might feel like you are really shaky. That’s okay. If you’ve never gotten to that place, it’s probably because you haven’t been tried to the extreme. When you  have faced extreme pain, pain that leaves  you feeling unstable, when you feel like your soundness of mind is hardly hanging on by a thread, you are probably not feeling strong in faith. That’s okay! It’s okay! That’s a great time to talk to God and ask Him to bolster your faith. Ask Him to help you find Him in the pain. It’s certainly fine to even ask Him  to deliver you out of your suffering– remember Someone saying, “Father, if possible, let this cup pass me by…?” Yes, even Jesus prayed that way. Yes, we know he also added, “yet not my will, but Yours be done” but we sometimes fail to linger in that place where our pain instructs us to cry for deliverance. This is another subject that I hope to explore some day in an E-pistle, but for now I just want to mention that Christians are far less in touch with their humanity than Jesus was. 

     If you’ve never done this, write out your prayer-complaint to God. What is it that you are facing that is so distressing? What would you like Him to do about it? Add that too. More on this next week.

2 SAMUEL #25: SALVATION DOES NOT COME FROM GREAT LEADERS.

The writer of Samuel is using his epilogue (closing part of the book) to emphasize certain themes again and again. One of the most important of these ideas is this: The Lord is the only source of salvation and hope. Even if the people imagined that a king like David could save them again, David’s own words point them not to any human leader, but to the Lord himself.

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1 SAMUEL #25. 1 SAMUEL CHAPTER 22:1-51.

Let’s remember where we are. The narrative history of the book of Samuel ended with 2 Samuel chapter 20. Chapter 21 does describe a historical incident, but it’s out of chronological order—it happened much earlier in David’s reign. Chapters 21-25 form a six part epilogue, organized according to an ancient writing style called chiastic structure. I want to remind us of the overall picture of this epilogue, because we have now come to the center of the structure.

Part A: A sin, and the need for atonement

Part B: God’s provision of salvation for his people, even when David becomes too old to fight

Part X (our section today): A psalm of David proclaiming that the Lord saves

Part X1: A psalm of David proclaiming that the Lord works through leaders

Part B1: The warriors who helped David save and lead Israel

Part A1: A sin, and the need for atonement, and God’s provision for it.

So we see that our section today (which is all of chapter 22) is building on what has come before.

2 Samuel chapter 22 is almost identical to Psalm 18, but there are quite a few differences between the Hebrew text of 2 Samuel 22 and Psalm 18, and some of those show up in the English translations. Almost all of those differences are due to the fact that the book of Psalms was gathered together and compiled a few centuries after the book of Samuel was written. During those intervening centuries, written Hebrew changed somewhat. Whoever collected the Psalms into one collection updated and standardized them so that all of the psalms used the same, latest form of Hebrew. Our verses today were written in the older form of Hebrew. The small differences between 2 Samuel 22 and Psalm 18 do not change any major teaching of the Bible (nor indeed any minor one).

The beginning of 2 Samuel 22 says:

 “1 And David spoke to the LORD the words of this song on the day when the LORD delivered him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul.”

Because of the mention of Saul, and a few other things in the psalm, most Bible scholars think that David wrote this when he was a fairly young man, probably around the time when he first became king of all Israel.

Remember, the first section of this epilogue was about the seriousness of sin and the need for atonement. Next came the crisis of the giants, and how the Lord made sure to provide a warrior to save Israel from each one. Now, in the first part of the psalm, David makes the overall theme perfectly clear: God alone is our salvation:

“The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer,
3 my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield, and the horn of my salvation,
my stronghold and my refuge,
my savior; you save me from violence.
4 I call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised,
and I am saved from my enemies. (2 Samuel 22:2-4, ESV)

The people of Israel may have begun to feel that David was their savior. He saved them from the first giant. He fought the Philistines and won many battles for Israel. He outlasted the unstable, volatile, king Saul. As a new young king, he defeated the Philistines again, more completely. But here he says clearly that salvation and deliverance come only from the Lord. He, David, is not Israel’s savior. That title belongs to the Lord.

Verse 4 is a concept that appears throughout the Bible. To call on the name of the Lord is to worship him, and to give over your life to serving and worshipping him.  Abraham “called on the name of the Lord.” So did Isaac and Jacob. Moses and the prophets urged the people to “call on the name of the Lord.”

The apostles made it clear that to call upon the name of the Lord was, in fact, the same thing as receiving and worshipping Jesus Christ. The apostle Peter quoted from one of the prophets when he urged people to receive Jesus:

21 And it shall come to pass that everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ (Acts 2:21, ESV)

Paul wrote:

13 For “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” (Romans 10:13, ESV)

To call upon  God’s name is to look to him earnestly and trustfully for help. It is to recognize that the only true help comes from the Lord, the only true salvation or deliverance comes from him alone. And as I said, the apostles taught that this was the same thing as receiving Jesus.

So calling on the name of the Lord is not simply saying the name “Yahweh,” or even “Jesus.” It means to worship the Lord, and to follow him, to allow your whole life to belong to him. David, for all his faults, did indeed do that.

In the next section of the psalm, verses 5-7, David talks about being in very serious distress. He called out to God for help in his particular situation. The way I read it, he is talking about the precarious way he lived for almost fifteen years. King Saul wanted him dead, so it wasn’t safe for him to go north into Israel. The Philistines wanted him dead, so it wasn’t safe among them, to the west. If he strayed too far south, the Amalekites were ready to get him. The wilderness he lived in was no picnic either. At different times during that period of his life, David faced all of those dangers.

The person who put together the book of Samuel included this psalm because he wants us to remember that following God did not always mean life was easy for David. We can therefore expect that sometimes life will be hard for us, even if we are faithfully following God.

Next, David gives us a very pictorial, metaphorical representation of how God responded to save him. The most remarkable thing about this is that God in all his majesty and power, cared deeply about David, and came to save him. Again, it was not David who delivered Israel, but the Lord who saved both David and Israel. David ends this section with this:

17 “He sent from on high, he took me;
he drew me out of many waters.
18 He rescued me from my strong enemy,
from those who hated me,
for they were too mighty for me.
19 They confronted me in the day of my calamity,
but the LORD was my support.
20 He brought me out into a broad place;
he rescued me, because he delighted in me. (2 Samuel 22:17-20, ESV)

The next section of the psalm, verses 21-25, is probably the hardest one to stomach. In it David claims that God dealt with him according to his (David’s) own righteousness. In the first place, that can make it sound like we have to be good people before God will help us. Second, we know that David was far from perfect. We know that even before the terrible sins he committed in the Bathsheba incident, he still sometimes forgot to ask the Lord for guidance, or, at other times, he was hot-headed and angry. He didn’t listen to what the Lord said about having many wives.

However, remember, David wrote this in his youth, long before he sinned with Bathsheba and had Uriah murdered. And I think that David, when he talks about being “blameless” here, means that he faithfully followed the Lord in not killing Saul, and in not trying to steal the kingdom for himself. In other words, he isn’t claiming to be blameless in every area of his life, but rather, he is talking specifically about the way he waited patiently for God to make him king, and the times he refused to kill Saul.

Remember when Saul promised that whoever killed the giant would marry his oldest daughter, and be made rich? Saul broke those promises to David. Not only that, but he added conditions onto his public promises. Saul made David kill an additional 100 Philistines before he allowed him to  marry his youngest daughter. David did not complain about the broken promises, nor use them as an excuse to serve Saul poorly. Instead, he continued to faithfully serve Saul, even when Saul treated him badly. David is thinking about specific things like this when he says he was “blameless.”

He is saying, in fact, that he knows the Lord gave him the kingdom, because he did get the kingdom for himself. He was “righteous” in not assassinating Saul, and in not leading a rebellion. He goes on:

26 “To the faithful you show yourself faithful;
to those with integrity you show integrity.
27 To the pure you show yourself pure,
but to the crooked you show yourself shrewd.
(2 Samuel 22:26-27, NLT)

This section includes amazing promises, and serious warnings. First, this isn’t about earning our salvation. It’s more like this: if we allow the Lord to build a straight, open pipeline within our hearts and minds, then God can show us his love and goodness directly. When we trust the Lord, He uses that to build an open channel to show us his love and goodness.

On the other hand, when we don’t trust God, we tend to make deals with him, or try to manipulate him into giving us what we want, no matter what. We ourselves throw twists and curves and complications into our relationship with God, and then we blame him because he seems tricky and shrewd to us.

This isn’t actually all that complicated. Imagine a good human father who has two sons. He showers both sons with love, and he also creates strong boundaries with discipline. The first son, Peter, responds by trusting his dad, even when he isn’t always happy about the boundaries, or when he doesn’t understand them. The second son, Eric, wants what he wants, right now. He doesn’t see his dad’s boundaries as loving—he only sees that his dad appears to be denying him what he wants. So he tries his best to subvert the rules, and manipulate his dad, and get what he wants. Peter’s relationship with his dad is likely to be warm and loving, and not super complicated. But Eric will have a totally different experience with the same loving father. Because Eric himself has not responded to his dad in love and trust, his dad will have to find additional ways to discipline him, different ways to relate to him, and get through to him. Because Eric is so fixated on what he wants, his perception is that his dad is standing in the way of that. Therefore, Eric will not easily be able to have an open, honest, loving relationship with his dad, even though it’s the same dad that Peter has, who loves Eric just as much as he loves Peter.

Honestly, I think perhaps David was thinking of Saul when he wrote this part of the Psalm. Both David and Saul served the same loving God. But they had a totally different experience of God because David responded to God in trusting faith, while Saul only tried to use and manipulate God. When we try to make deals with God, or manipulate him, we find that these things backfire on us.

David finished this part of the psalm with this thought:

28 You save a humble people; but your eyes are on the haughty to bring them down. (2 Samuel 22:28, ESV)

This is another concept that is echoed and re-echoed throughout the Bible—in both the Old and New Testaments.

Here are two examples from the New Testament:

6 But he gives more grace. Therefore it says, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” 7 Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. 8 Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. 9 Be wretched and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. 10 Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you. (James 4:6-10, ESV)

Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”
6 Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, 7 casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. (1 Peter 5:5-7, ESV)

If we try to claim that we have something worthwhile to offer God, something with which to bargain, we will find God hard and inaccessible. If we think we don’t really need God, or that we can stand in judgment of him, we find that he opposes us. But if we approach him with true humility, with a understanding and attitude that we have nothing whatsoever to bargain with, no claim on him, no reason he should be kind to us, we find that he reaches out toward us in love and grace.

David continues in this psalm with a lot of words about his victories in battles, but if we pay attention as we read it, we notice that David always insists that it is the Lord who brought him victory, not his own skill or athleticism. He can “run through a troop” because the Lord enables him to do it. Over and over, in different ways, David tells us that the Lord alone is the source of hope and salvation. He is not king because he is an amazing person. He is king because God chose him. He did not win battles because he was a great warrior. He won them because he looked humbly to God, and God fought for him. We are meant to hear it clearly: God is the only source of hope and salvation.

One thought is that the way we approach God can have a large influence on our relationship with him. If we approach him like Saul, if our ultimate commitment is to ourselves, or to our own goals and desires, we might find that God seems difficult and tricky. If we approach him with pride or preconditions, we might feel almost like God opposes us. But if we approach him with open faith, and the humility to receive everything from him, even if some of what we receive we’d rather not have, we will find that God is kind and gracious and loving. He opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble. If you feel like God has been opposing you lately, give thought to whether you have been humble enough to trust him in all things.

Finally, we need to train our hearts and minds to look to the Lord alone for salvation. And “salvation” doesn’t mean “everything goes the way we want it to.” It means that God has us in his hands, that he will be with us no matter what we face in this present life, and in the life to come we will find joy beyond imagining with the Lord, and with his people.

2 SAMUEL 24: WHAT IF THE GIANTS KEEP ON COMING?

As David grew older and became less of a force on the battlefield, the people of Israel must have wondered what was going to happen when he was gone. The writer of Samuel reminds us that it was never David who saved them, but rather, it was the Lord who saved them, whether through Samuel, Saul, David, or the next generation. This encourages us to not make idols out of the methods the Lord uses to bless us. We don’t need anything but the Lord himself.

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SECOND SAMUEL #24. 2 SAMUEL 21:15-22

Last time we looked at the gruesome story of how Saul’s evil deeds against the Gibeonites created a need for atonement. We considered the overall message that we human beings are dead meat. We cannot be good enough to atone for sin. But the writer of the book of Samuel does not want to leave us with the wrong impression. So, in this next section of the epilogue, he tells about some people who were quite remarkable. The incidents described here probably took place near the end of David’s reign.

The first incident was when David was an older man. He was fighting the Philistines, and in the battle came face to face with a particularly fearsome Philistine warrior, a descendant of giants. As David faltered, his nephew Abishai came to assist him, and they struck down the Philistine. It was at this point in David’s life that his elite warriors convinced him not to risk his own life in battle anymore.

I want to talk about Abishai for just a second. He was the second of three brothers. From oldest to youngest they were: Joab, Abishai, Asahel. Their father probably died young, since his name is not mentioned, and when Asahel also died young, he was buried next to their father. Their mother was Zeruiah, David’s sister. This made Abishai David’s nephew. Abishai’s brother Joab had his conflicts with David, and we have seen that Joab was a complex man, but among other things, he murdered three people. We assume that he killed many in battle also, but Joab murdered Abner, Absalom and Amasa in cold blood. Two of those (Absalom and Amasa) were Joab’s own cousins. Abishai, the one who helped David against the Philistine, Ishbi-benob, was a fearsome warrior, but there is no indication that he was a murderer, like his brother Joab. He was eager to kill David’s enemies, but unlike Joab, when David said “no,” Abishai listened. I like to think that Abishai was a physically gifted warrior who rejoiced to use those gifts, but who listened to David, and to the Lord.

Abishai is listed as the chief of the “Thirty Mighty Men” of David (there were actually thirty-seven). On one occasion he killed three hundred Philistines with his spear in a single battle. After David, and “the three” (mightiest men), Abishai was considered the most fearsome warrior in Israel. He was younger than David, and so on the occasion listed here, he was able to help him against the Philistine Ishbi-benob, who was descended from giants. The text doesn’t say so, but we can safely assume that they were unusually large and strong men, even if they weren’t as big as the Goliath killed by David.

Next came Sibbecai. He is listed in 1 Chronicles 11:29 as being one of David’s thirty mighty men, but he is not found by that name in the list here in 2  Samuel chapter 23. Chapter 23:7 mentions Mebunnai the Hushathite, and that might be a different name for the same person. 1 Chronicles also mentions that he was a commander of an army division. In any case, Sibbecai/Mebunnai killed another descendent of the giants, named Saph.

Next with have Elhanan. He was also one of the thirty mighty men, and he killed another man named Goliath from the same city (Gath) as David’s Goliath. 1 Chronicles 20:5 puts it like this:

5 And there was again war with the Philistines, and Elhanan the son of Jair struck down Lahmi the brother of Goliath the Gittite, the shaft of whose spear was like a weaver’s beam. (1 Chronicles 20:5, ESV)

My assumption is that “Goliath” was a kind of a family name, and David killed an older member of the family, and then, years later, Elhanan killed a younger brother, or possibly even the son of the original Goliath. I think that’s the most likely, and it fits best with both texts.

Then we have a final descendant of the giants, a man of large stature, with some kind of genetic anomaly that gave him six fingers on each hand, and six toes on each foot. He was killed by yet another nephew of David: Jonathan, son of David’s brother, Shimei. David’s family produced some fearsome warriors.

Now, what do we make of this? Why did the author of the book of Samuel put this in here? Let’s back out and remember the big picture. All the way back at the beginning of the history recorded in this book, Israel was a mess, with no one to guide them. God used a righteous woman, Hannah, to bring Samuel into the world. God then used Samuel to lead the people, give them direction, and provide deliverance from their enemies. But as Samuel grew old, the people grew afraid. Samuel’s sons were not like him. Who was going to lead Israel next? God provided Saul, the kind of King the people really wanted: big and impressive-looking. Saul began well, but after some time, he faltered because of fear and insecurity. When Israel was challenged by a giant, Saul had no answer. The Lord brought David forward, and the young man (probably a teenager) killed the giant, and then became the most fearsome battle leader that had yet lived. Eventually David became king, and he led the people well, but at times even he failed and faltered. And now—this is where we get to this text today—now, David is too old to fight giants any more.

What will happen? Who will save the people from their enemies now? David, the brilliant battle-leader, created an empire. For the first and only time, Israel became a regional power, uncowed by either Egypt to the south or Mesopotamia to the north and east. But now the battle leader is too old to lead. Who will protect and save Israel?

These four younger men step in to fill David’s shoes. Now, we have not one, but four giant-slayers. However, the point is not that these four younger men will replace David, or even that one of them will. The point is this: It is the Lord himself who always provides salvation. He was the one who raised up Samuel. The Lord was the one who raised up Saul, and then, when Saul fell, brought David. The people of Israel do not need to fear. Their hope should never have been in Samuel, Saul or even David, in the first place. Their salvation comes from the Lord himself. Even when David can no longer fully use his tremendous gifts, the Lord protects Israel. We are meant to understand this: Even when the time comes for David to die, the Lord will be with his people.

Again and again, the people of Israel were tempted to put their hope in a human being: first Samuel, then Saul, and then David. And the Lord did indeed use all three of those men to deliver and protect his people. But the writer of Samuel is showing us: “Look it continues! The people change, but the one constant is this: The Lord is our salvation.” And of course, David himself knew this to be true. The people don’t need David, or any other particular individual. They only need the Lord.

I think sometimes we need to hear this message as well. We put our hopes on the way God might save us, instead of God himself. When we do that, we create idols. One purpose of the book of Samuel is to show that God did indeed bless Israel through David, but not to make an idol of him, and not to depend on God always using someone like that.

For instance, a few years ago there was a popular Christian teacher named Ravi Zacharias. He encouraged and helped a great number of people, probably millions. He passed away in 2020. Around the time of his death it came out that he had engaged in sexual misconduct over the course of about five years. As far as I know, the accusations have been proved credible. I spoke with someone who had trouble processing this. She felt like she had been blessed by Ravi’s ministry, and even strengthened in her faith by his words. But how could she square that with the kind of man he had been in secret?

I helped her to see that it was the Lord who had blessed her and strengthened her faith. Yes, he used Ravi Zacharias to bring those blessings, but the source wasn’t Ravi, it was the Lord. The blessings were real, no matter what kind of man he was. Just as David was a very imperfect man whom God used to bless his people, so today, we ought to avoid making human beings into idols. Let’s receive God’s blessings, however he brings them, but let’s trust the source of those blessings, which is the Lord, not any human being, or human process. That way, we can receive God’s goodness, even when the people who bring it to us turn out to be less than perfect.

Or, maybe we trust in something else, like our job, or work ethic, or physical stamina, or our good marriage, or our savings account. God does indeed bless us through things like these. But if we find ourselves saying “As long as I have my health…” or, “as long as I have a good marriage…” or, “as long as I have a good investment portfolio…” we might be in danger of idolizing that thing. We don’t need any “as long as.” The Lord can bless us apart from such things as well. If we lose something like one of those things, all is not lost. David and the Israelites lost David’s giant-killing skills. It didn’t matter. The Lord protected them anyway. Whatever else we might lose, we cannot lose the Lord, and he is all we truly need:

28 And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. 29 For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. 30 And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.

31 What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? 33 Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. 34 Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? 36 As it is written,
“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”
37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:28-39, ESV)

Really pay attention to what the Holy Spirit is saying to you today.

2 SAMUEL #21: OUTRAGEOUS GRACE

After Absalom was dead, and his rebellion put down, David encountered various individuals and groups who had conspired against him, or used the situation in some way to their own advantage. These people ranged from cowards to treasonous quislings. David, once again with the power of kingship, chose not to punish them, but rather, to forgive them. His kindness and grace to such despicable people comes across as offensive; outrageous, even. In this way, David reminds us once more of the Messiah, Jesus Christ, whose forgiveness to undeserving people is also outrageous. God’s grace is for those who don’t deserve it. We must never forget that.

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2 Samuel #21 .  2 Samuel Chapter 19:9-43

The second half of chapter 19 appears to be mostly a detailed record of the political history of that time. This was valuable and significant to the ancient Israelites who lived not long after David’s time. It is still interesting today to historians, and bible-geeks like me. But what is the point of it really?

I know I’ve mentioned this before, but I think it is important to revisit it periodically. We all tend to forget. The Holy Spirit made sure first that this history was written; second, that it was preserved through the years; and third, that it was included in the bible. So there must be some reason for this. There must be some way the Lord wants to speak through it to Christians living today.

Sometimes, in order to hear what the Lord wants to say today, we first need to understand it better. So please bear with me. I think we’ll find some fruitful bible application here if we pay attention to details that might otherwise seem tedious.

Here’s the situation. David’s army has defeated and killed Absalom, who had rebelled against him and set himself up as king in David’s place. There were no computers or telephones or newspapers in those days, so it took a while for the news of David’s victory to spread. Meanwhile, David seems to have waited. This might seem a little bit strange. But remember who David is. He has many faults, to be sure, but he has never grasped at power. Instead, he always waited for the Lord, even refusing to take opportunities to gain the kingdom when he was younger. It is my opinion that once Nathan confronted him about the Bathsheba incident, David once again became like the person he was when he was younger. All of his confidence was once more in the Lord. So here, he once more waits until he is sure that the Lord still wants him as king. He doesn’t want the civil war to continue, so he waits until he is sure he can return in peace. This is David once more at his best, trusting the Lord.

The writer of Samuel often makes a distinction between the tribe of Judah and the other eleven tribes of Israel. Often when he writes “Israel” he appears to mean the tribes as distinct from the tribe of Judah. This shows us that there was some tension between those two factions even in the time of David. In the time of David’s grandsons, the nation was split. Judah absorbed most of the tribe of Benjamin and became a separate nation named “Judah” (from which we get the word, “Jew”). The other ten tribes formed a kingdom to the north of Judah, which was called “Israel.” I’m of the opinion that it was shortly after this split that someone took the writings of the prophets Samuel, Nathan and Gad, along with some official court history, and made it all into the books of First and Second Samuel.

After Absalom’s rebellion, people from the other tribes began talking about inviting David back officially, and officially receiving him once more as king.

Now Israel had fled every man to his own home.  9 And all the people were arguing throughout all the tribes of Israel, saying, “The king delivered us from the hand of our enemies and saved us from the hand of the Philistines, and now he has fled out of the land from Absalom.  10 But Absalom, whom we anointed over us, is dead in battle. Now therefore why do you say nothing about bringing the king back?” 

Apparently, the people really had committed to Absalom. They said he was the one they had anointed to be king over them. This wasn’t as strange as it might seem. After all, he was the king’s son and heir. I’m sure many people assumed that sooner or later, Absalom would be king anyway, and why not have him in the full vigor of his youth? But now, he was gone. I would have thought that at this point it was a clear choice to go back to David, but the people still seemed at a loss. Even so, from most of the tribes, sentiment turned back toward David.

But the tribe of Judah did not seem to know what to do. At first, this seems strange, since David was from the tribe of Judah. But then, so was Absalom, David’s son. Absalom’s rebellion was conceived and carried out in Hebron, the chief city of Judah. Absalom’s military commander, Amasa, was a relative of his (and David’s) from the tribe. In fact, most of his inner circle were probably from Judah. In other words, although they were David’s people, they were also Absalom’s people, and they were probably chiefly responsible for the rebellion.

David reached out to them. He sent a message to the leaders of the tribe of Judah, saying,

 ‘Why should you be the last to restore the king to his palace? The talk of all Israel has reached the king at his house. 12 You are my brothers, my flesh and blood. So why should you be the last to restore the king? ’ 13 And tell Amasa, ‘Aren’t you my flesh and blood? May God punish me and do so severely if you don’t become commander of the army from now on instead of Joab! ’ ” 14 So he won over all the men of Judah, and they sent word to the king: “Come back, you and all your servants.” (2Sam 19:11-14, HCSB)

As David made his way back, he was met at the Jordan river by a host of people who wanted the honor of escorting him to Jerusalem. What follows was a slightly sickening display of sycophancy. People ended up arguing amongst themselves about who got to show David honor, and who was honoring him more (19:40-43).

Along with the leaders of the tribe of Judah, one of the first people to come meet him was Shimei. You may remember him from 2 Samuel 16:5-13, which we covered in Part 18 of this sermon series. This was the man who cursed David and pelted him with rocks and dust as he fled from Absalom. When David was down, he piled on with insults and taunting, rubbing David’s face in the humiliation, exulting in David’s misfortune and shame. Shimei did not just mess up and make a mistake – what he did was clear and deliberate. Now that David was king again, Shimei came fawning to him like a disobedient dog, begging forgiveness. Clearly, he wouldn’t have had this attitude of Absalom had won. I don’t know about you, but I think that Shimei was pond-scum. His behavior and attitude are despicable, detestable, the lowest and ugliest forms of hypocrisy and cowardice. He is a jerk, plain a simple, the kind of person I want nothing to do with.

And David forgave him.

Stop for a second, and think on that. Let it sink in.

Let’s be honest. David’s forgiveness and compassion are offensive. Abishai, brother of Joab suggests, as he did before, that Shimei would be a more attractive person if his head was removed. I tend to agree with Abishai. But David did not.

Does this remind you of anything? The love and compassion of Jesus were also offensive. The Pharisees were offended that he would eat with tax collectors and known sinners. He allowed a prostitute to kiss his feet in public, and wash them. It offended them.

I think once more, this text is a far-off picture of Jesus, the ultimate anointed savior of God’s people. It isn’t really about David, it is about Jesus, his wisdom and love, and how people respond to him. So let’s consider the rest of this text in that light.

We’ve been talking about Shimei. His sin was obvious and deliberate. There was no excuse for it. It wasn’t a momentary slip. It revealed an ugly character. Even so, David offered him forgiveness and redemption. Jesus does the same. That’s right, Jesus came to redeem and forgive class-A jerks, cowards and crawling hypocrites. It is offensive sometimes, to think Jesus would forgive someone that I want to hate so much. But he does.

Abishai was like me. Shimei’s character was clear to him. He was offended by David’s compassion and mercy. But David rebuked him. Sometimes we really are offended by the idea that Jesus would forgive certain people. Would he forgive a child-molester? Based on what I know of the bible, the answer is “yes.” Jesus is king, and he can forgive who he pleases. He does not answer to us.

But as an illustration, I do want to finish the story of Shimei, though it does not end for many years. When David was dying, he told Solomon to watch out for Shimei. So, even though David forgave him, he certainly saw the truth about what kind of person he was. Solomon made a just and fair ruling for Shimei, allowing him to live in peace if he would show his obedience and faithfulness by never leaving Jerusalem. Shimei, revealing his true character, agreed, but then ignored the agreement when it became inconvenient. As a result, Solomon had him executed. So in the end, forgiveness did Shimei no good, because he did not allow it to touch his heart and change the kind of person he was.

In the same way, the forgiveness of Jesus does not help those who don’t truly repent, who don’t allow him to work in their lives. Jesus sees all, so we can let ultimate judgment rest with him. He knows what’s really in each person’s heart, and responds accordingly. You can’t be truly repentant without letting God’s love change you.

Back to David, the next person to arrive was Ziba. At this point, Ziba was revealed as a trickster and manipulator, because right behind him was Mephibosheth, whom Ziba was supposed to serve. Mephibosheth revealed how Ziba took advantage of his disability, and took the donkey that was supposed to be for him, and lied, telling David that Mephibosheth rejoiced over David’s trouble. Mephibosheth had not washed his clothes, or cared for his hair or feet since David left. In those days, anyway, it was not possible to fake long fingernails and toenails. Mephibosheth’s physical condition proved that he was telling the truth.

So, David reversed his previous declaration, that Ziba should have all of Mephibosheth’s property, which was, no doubt, why Ziba lied in the first place.

Even so, even though he tried to trick his master Mephibosheth, David told Mephibosheth to divide the land between him and Ziba. This amounts to forgiveness, and even a reward, for the trickster and manipulator, Ziba. There it is again, that offensive forgiveness.

Mephibosheth’s response shows that his loyalty was always true. He didn’t care about the land, as long as David was safe, and king again. I mentioned before that Mephibosheth is a great picture of God’s grace. Unlike Shimei, the grace he received through David changed him permanently. He didn’t just want what David could give him. He wanted the best for the king that saved him, and he wanted fellowship with him, whether he had blessings from him or not. Mephibosheth rejoiced that David was back and safe, far more than he rejoiced about being vindicated in the dispute with Ziba.

This is an encouragement to me to have a similar attitude. It isn’t about what Jesus can do for me in this life. It isn’t about me getting what I think I deserve, or being proved right. It is about loving Jesus and being in relationship with him. You can’t manufacture that. It only comes when you love Jesus for who he is. If you feel like you lack that kind of love (as I often do), ask the Holy Spirit to give it to you.

One of the people who helped David in his exile was an old man named Barzillai. David blessed him and rewarded him, though again, Barzillai wanted no other reward than the safety of the king, and in fact, was too old to enjoy any of the blessings David wants to bestow. So too, I find it helpful to remember that even though Jesus sometimes offends me by his radical forgiveness of people whom I think are undeserving, he does also love his faithful servants. He does not forget them, or offer them less than anyone else. Maybe, like Barzillai, we don’t enjoy the blessings in this life. Even so, Jesus offers us blessing and joy that can never spoil or fade.

Another group to consider is the leaders of the tribe of Judah. They made a deliberate choice to follow Absalom instead of David. But before they even repented, David was reaching out to them, forgiving them, restoring them to a relationship with him. So Paul writes about Jesus in Romans 5:

For while we were still helpless, at the appointed moment, Christ died for the ungodly. For rarely will someone die for a just person — though for a good person perhaps someone might even dare to die. But God proves His own love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us! (Rom 5:6-8, HCSB)

Jesus’ love and forgiveness is given time and again to those who don’t deserve it – because no one deserves it. So, if you think you are unworthy, you are correct. But that doesn’t stop Jesus from giving you grace and forgiveness anyway. You may think someone else is unworthy. You are also correct about that. But if you don’t want the Lord to forgive them, you cannot have forgiveness yourself. We are all unworthy. Instead of being resentful about how God forgives others, be grateful about how he forgives you.

Abishai was not the only one who took offense at the mercy of God that David showed to all who would see. The ten other tribes of Israel were also offended that even though they were the ones who first talked of bringing David back, it was the tribes of Judah and Benjamin who got the honor of doing so.

In Jesus’ time, the Pharisees were also offended at Jesus’ graciousness. In those days, the Roman government and the provincial government were corrupt and horribly oppressive.  Roman soldiers often raped local women and got away with no repercussions. Government officials took whatever they wanted, including, at times, the daughters of Jewish families. Tax collectors were Jewish people who worked for these awful Romans and got them the money they needed to maintain their power. Not only that, but they could collect whatever tax they wanted. So if the Roman and local taxes equaled six months labor, the tax collector could add whatever he wanted on top of that to make himself rich. Some people ended up as slaves because they couldn’t pay their taxes. Therefore, tax collectors were deeply hated, and with good reason. They were like Nazi collaborators in German occupied Holland or France during WWII. And yet Jesus forgave tax collectors. He fellowshipped with them. It was offensive.

God offers not only amazing grace. He offers outrageous grace. This is good news, and a tremendous comfort for those who know they need it, but it can be dangerous when we think only certain people should be allowed to receive God’s grace. The very essence of grace is that it is given to those who don’t deserve it.

I think that may be a key. If the forgiveness and mercy of God to others offends you, is it possible that perhaps you do not realize how much you yourself need that same grace? Jesus said:

“Blessed is the one who is not offended by me.” (Matthew 11:5-6, ESV)

Let the Spirit speak to you today.