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.

To listen to the sermon, click the play button:

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

To download, right click on the link (or do whatever you do on a Mac) and save it to your computer: Download Lament Part 6

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).

GRUMBLING vs LAMENT #5: Where are you God?

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.

To listen to the sermon, click the play button:

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

To download, right click on the link (or do whatever you do on a Mac) and save it to your computer: Download Lament Part 5

“Where are You, Lord?” The psalmist in Psalm 10, seems to be asking this question.  Have you asked this question or even thought it? You’d be very unusual if you haven’t. Though early in the Christian life we learn that God is omnipresent, or “everywhere present,” it often feels like He is not present to us in our current circumstance, especially if those circumstances are particularly difficult. 

     Technically speaking God is simultaneously present everywhere. How? He doesn’t explain that to us. It’s part and parcel of His “Godhood.” It’s one of His attributes, spoken about in Psalm 139. Note the following verses from this psalm.

7 Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? 8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. 9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, 10 even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. 11  If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me

and the light become night around me,” 12 even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

     God is everywhere. Jonah experienced God even in the depths of the sea. While God is actually present everywhere, He is usually only manifestly present, or present in a way that we can experience Him, at certain times and locations. Almost unpredictably. People who have journeyed with God and are known to know Him well will tell you that you cannot manipulate or manufacture His presence. Either God will or won’t be present in a way that is obvious. And, when that happens, you know it. There’s nothing quite like His presence. David testified that in God’s presence, “there is fullness of joy” (Psalm 16:11). When I have experienced the manifest presence of God on an individual level (as opposed to a congregational setting), and I can count on one hand the times that has happened in my 53 year relationship with Him, His presence satisfies every longing and infuses me with peace. It convinces me that there is no pleasure, no achievement and no material thing that can come remotely close to giving me what I have in Him. Asaph was a psalmist and he knew from his encounter with God’s manifest presence that there was nothing on the entire earth that could compete with it (Psalm 73:25,28– read this in a variety of translations).

     Even though you can’t have this variety of God’s presence on demand– in fact, demanding it is a sure way to guarantee you won’t get it— God doesn’t respond to our impertinence– it is still good to ask the question, “Lord, where are you?” It’s a way of saying, “Lord, I need your comfort. I need your embrace. I am aching for a hug from you. I need to know that You are near. Please, please don’t delay.”

(Tom here now, almost until the end). The Lord does come to us through our feelings and our thoughts. He sometimes comes in a way that is hard to describe. We might call his speaking to us as a “spiritual” experience. But sometimes all that can be a little bit vague. We can find ourselves chasing a certain set of feelings, or experiences, but not actually getting them. However, as Kevin said, God does not show up for us in an experiential way simply because we demand it. Perhaps we aren’t even being demanding, but we desperately want some kind of experience with God, and it doesn’t happen. As Kevin has been pointing out this can be extremely difficult.

Thankfully, we do not have to rely on only our feelings or experiences. The Lord has given us three objective ways of experiencing his presence. These three ways do not require any particular feeling on our part. The first way is through reading the Bible. I’ve preached extensively on the remarkable text that we call the Bible. I’ve even written a book about it (Who Cares About the Bible?). We can have confidence that when we read the Bible (which we also refer to as “God’s Word”) we are, in fact, hearing from God. When we read the Bible, we are not making something up in our own heads. The text is there for any human being to see. Thousands of generations before us have read these same words. But when we feel abandoned by God, it is especially important that we continue to read the Bible.

When I teach and preach on a passage of Scripture, one of my goals is to help us understand the original, objective meaning, that the Holy Spirit intended through the human authors of the text. Preachers should do that. But there is another, more personal way, of reading the Bible. And that is to pray before you read, asking God to speak to you through his word. And then read the text as if God is speaking it directly to you. It may have been something that God originally wanted Isaiah to say to the people of Israel twenty-seven hundred years ago. But Hebrews 4:12 tells us that the word of God is living and active. That means that we can receive what God is saying to us through the Scripture as intended directly for us. We shouldn’t build doctrines on reading the Bible this way, but it can be tremendously helpful in our sense of God’s presence and love in our lives.

I want to give you a quick example of what I’m talking about. When I was in college I went through a time of dark depression. During this time I went on a spiritual retreat. The leaders gave us a list of Bible verses to read. They told us to listen for the voice of God speaking through those verses. I went off by myself. I prayed before reading the first assigned passage. I asked the Lord to speak to me through the Bible. And then I read this verse:

1 “Comfort, comfort my people,”
says your God.
2 “Speak tenderly to Jerusalem.
Tell her that her sad days are gone
and her sins are pardoned.
Yes, the LORD has punished her twice over
for all her sins.” Isaiah 40:1-2

This is a prophecy given by the prophet Isaiah. It speaks to the people of Judah after the Babylonians had destroyed Jerusalem and laid waste to the entire kingdom of Judah. The people of Judah were now in exile, far from their homes. So originally, this text was announcing to God’s people that their exile in the land of Babylon would soon be over. It was a reassurance to them that God was not angry with them, and he was going to bring them back into their homeland. If I was preaching on this text I would make sure that my listeners all understood this.

However on that day, when I was under the dark cloud of depression, the Lord spoke to me through this Scripture in a unique way. I felt that he was proclaiming comfort directly to me in my depression. He was saying to me that the time of depression was now at an end, that my “sad days,” were over. That was what it meant to me to me as I read it. Thankfully, I believed the message that the Lord was given me through that Scripture. And then, it was so. My depression was over. Now, I would never preach on that text, and say that the meaning of that text was that everyone who is listening to me who was also depressed would now no longer be depressed. But this of how God speaks to us through his word. This didn’t take place in my head. It came from words that I did not make up.

A second place where God meets us, regardless of how we may feel, is in the sacrament of communion. We are taking real, actual bread into our bodies; real, actual wine (or, grape juice). Communion is not some kind of vague emotional experience. It is real bread, and real wine, in which Jesus has promised to be present. So, if you are wondering where you can find God, communion is one place he promises to meet us. It is not necessary for you to feel anything as you digest the bread and wine.

The third objective place where God meets us is through the fellowship of other Christians. Everyone who trusts Jesus has the Holy Spirit within them. Therefore, in a very real sense, when you are with other Christians, you are in the presence of God in a way that is outside of your self. The Bible seems to tell us that there is a special thing that happens when we gather together with other Christians specifically to worship the Lord. You may or may not feel anything as you worship the Lord with other Christians. Even so, he is there with you and the others, whether or not you feel it. You can look at the other people who are with you, and see that this is not something you are making up. God’s presence is also outside of ourselves.

The words of the Bible are not dependent on how you feel. The reality of the presence of the Lord through communion is not some vague experience. This is also true of the reality of God’s presence when his people meet together for worship.

No doubt there are times when we would really, really like to have some kind of an emotional experience of the presence of God. But by giving us the Bible, communion, and the fellowship of other believers, he has made it so that we can reliably be in his presence, no matter how we feel.

(We’ll close with a final paragraph from Kevin)

  God sometimes uses silence and what appears to be aloofness to draw us to a deep longing for Him. When you are suffering, when you are confused, when you are desperate for His touch, ask “Where, Lord, can I find you?” And, be sure to include your faith community in your search for God’s incomparable touch. In time, He will provide a way to comfort you. He is faithful and He will not allow your despair to become permanent, if you turn to Him. Turn, turn to Him. Again. And again. Ask Him for the stamina you’ll need. He wants to do a deep work in you. Let Him.

GRUMBLING vs LAMENT #4: ASKING “HOW LONG?”

To listen to the sermon, click the play button:

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

To download, right click on the link (or do whatever you do on a Mac) and save it to your computer: Download Lament Part 4

Grumbling vs Lamenting #4.  Psalm 13

For the choir director: A psalm of David.
1 O LORD, how long will you forget me? Forever?
How long will you look the other way?
2 How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul,
with sorrow in my heart every day?
How long will my enemy have the upper hand?
3 Turn and answer me, O LORD my God!
Restore the sparkle to my eyes, or I will die.
4 Don’t let my enemies gloat, saying, “We have defeated him!”
Don’t let them rejoice at my downfall.
5 But I trust in your unfailing love.
I will rejoice because you have rescued me.
6 I will sing to the LORD
because he is good to me. Psalms 13

There is more to the spoken sermon than there is to the text here. My right arm is in a sling and will be for several more weeks, so I type these words through voice dictation. But when I record the sermon, I add in things that will not show up in this written version. That’s why I encourage you to listen to the audio versions of these particular sermons.

When you are facing a trial have you asked this? This psalmist, David, continues his lament with, “How long must I… have sorrow in my heart all the day?” (v. 2). Read more from this psalm and you will see some of what David was facing.

What are you facing? Illness/Chronic pain? Divorce? Conflict? Insomnia? Bankruptcy? Legal problems? Loneliness? Addiction? Depression? Abuse?

The problem with trials and suffering is that each new one can seem permanent and worse than the one which preceded it. Suffering is an inevitable part of life on this side of heaven (John 16:33). We’ve learned that some suffering comes simply because we are occupying space here on earth. Sometimes it comes because we have done something to make our situation worse. Sometimes someone else does something which makes our situation worse. Sometimes God is pruning us and bringing us into a “dark night of the soul.”

 When you experience a “dark night,” which typically lasts far longer than a single night, your circumstances may not change for the worse, but you will be exposed to a kind of purgation, a spiritual aridness that is exceedingly painful. In these seasons, it can seem impossible to go on.

I remember my first such experience with a dark night. I was pretty new to the faith and had just been baptized in the Holy Spirit. John the Baptist describes that experience as “a baptism of fire” (Matthew 3:11). I was experiencing the fire of purgation, a terribly painful purifying process. I felt like I was being turned inside out. This has been experienced and written about by many who have gone before us, the most notable perhaps, would be St. John of the Cross.

     My circumstances were not more difficult than usual. I had some good friends and a budding relationship with the woman who became my first wife, Laura. Yet, internally I was in great distress (Sadly, Laura passed away just a few years ago). I was confused about what I was experiencing. I began to fall into despair and didn’t want to live. In my deepest pain, I heard, “John 15:2!” I didn’t know what it said, so I read that verse. It says, “…every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit.” Then I heard the same voice say, “You’ve been bearing fruit and now I am pruning you so you will bear even more…”

     When it appears that your suffering has a purpose, it helps. I found hope but the suffering continued. The writer of the book of Hebrews indicates that we should treat all suffering as God’s discipline and something that is useful for our sanctification (Hebrews 12:7, 10).

 Then I began to wonder, “How long?” I didn’t receive an answer. I think one of the reasons we may not get a definitive answer to this question is because we’re called to walk by faith, not by sight. God wants us to keep our eyes on Him and not fixate on what we are walking through. He wants us to learn to move forward putting one foot in front of the other, even when, especially when, we are confused, afraid and feeling alone. My first dark night lasted about two years. It was hard but it was an important season in my life. It helped me to know that God doesn’t remove His presence from us even though He sometimes will remove our awareness of it.

If you can get an answer to the “why?” question, ask “How long?” You may or may not get an answer. God’s silence is sometimes an answer. Sometimes it’s an invitation to trust Him when nothing makes sense. For now, perhaps it will suffice to acknowledge that God wants you to simply proceed without any assurances that your suffering has an end date. Ouch.

(Tom here, for a bit). In fact, there is a definitive end date for all of our suffering. We have the promise that when we leave this mortal life, if we have put our hope fully in Jesus, our sufferings are at an end. Sometimes I quail at the thought that I have another thirty years or so to suffer my kidney stone pain. At the same time, I know that it won’t be forever. The Lord has been faithful to me for these past ten years of physical suffering, and I can trust him to continue to be faithful to me, and walk with me, as long as my suffering endures, and in whatever other suffering I may experience. As it says in Hebrews:

For God has said,
“I will never fail you.
I will never abandon you.”
6 So we can say with confidence,
“The LORD is my helper,
so I will have no fear.
What can mere people do to me?” (Hebrews 13:5-6, NLT)

Our culture, now more than ever, is all about instant gratification. I find myself frustrated that when I order something from a place like Amazon sometimes it takes three whole days to get to me. It’s insane that that length of time bothers me. But the economy of the entire world has grown by providing what we want ever more quickly. It makes life comfortable, but it leaves us confused, and at a loss, when things don’t work out for us the way we want them to. The promises given to us in and through Jesus are so very worth waiting for. There is literally nothing better that we could have than the fulfillment of those promises. Can we hold on in faith, knowing that what we wait for far outweighs any of the struggles we might have here and now?

The spiritual practice of lament encourages us to recognize our feelings. It isn’t wrong to feel like our struggles are long and drawn out. It isn’t wrong to say that to God, and to wish for them to end soon. But in lamenting, we don’t simply complain. What separates it from grumbling is that we also turn our hearts towards God in faith. In lamenting, in a sense, we preach to our hearts. We remind ourselves of God’s promises, and his goodness, and his presence with us in every moment.

So, go ahead and ask “how long?” You may or may not receive a satisfactory answer. You will receive a satisfactory Presence, whether or not you perceive that Presence. For the entire length of your struggle, the Lord does, and will, walk with you, no matter how long. And though we may not know exactly how long we will have to suffer, we know that there is a certain end to the suffering, and a real beginning of an incredible life free from our struggles, infinitely longer than the amount of time that we may suffer here in this life.

Here’s a promise we can speak to our hearts today, any day in which we wonder “how long?”

1 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared. And the sea was also gone. 2 And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.
3 I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. 4 He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.”
5 And the one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!” And then he said to me, “Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.” (Revelation 21:1-5)       

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 #27: THE GLORIOUS COMPANY

God shines his glory not just through David, but also through the many people who were part of what the Lord was doing at the time of David. As each part of this epilogue shows, once again we see that salvation does not come from David, but from the Lord. He used some amazing people to build the kingdom of Israel. Just as those people shared in David’s hardship, and then, finally, David’s glory, so we too will one day share in the glory of Jesus, even when we suffer with him in this present life.

To listen to the sermon, click the play button:

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

To download, right click on the link (or do whatever you do on a Mac) and save it to your computer: Download 2 Samuel Part 27

2 Samuel #27.  2 Samuel 23:8-39

As I have mentioned before, 2 Samuel chapters 21-24 are a carefully crafted epilogue to the book of Samuel. The content is arranged in a common ancient middle-eastern pattern called chiastic structure. We are now in part B1.

A. The need for atonement

B. The Giant-killing warriors who took over that role from David

X.  David’s psalm declaring that the Lord alone saves his people

X1. David’s last words depending on God’s promise alone to bring an eternal messiah

B1. The warriors who helped David throughout the years

A1. The need for atonement and the provision for it.

One of the purposes of this epilogue is to encourage people to hope not in an earthly leader, not even a really good one, like David, but rather, to put all of their hope in the Lord alone. We can see looking at part B, above, that when David could no longer fight there were other warriors who stepped up. The point was, the Lord is the one who saves his people, and he is not dependent on any one person. That point is being reiterated now. Now, the author of Samuel is saying, “Look, even when David was young, it wasn’t only David whom the Lord used. He was surrounded by these amazing warriors, even in his prime.” Again, the message is that we shouldn’t look to any single person like David. The Lord is the one who saves.” There’s something else too. The beginning and end of this epilogue are focused on our need for salvation. Ultimately, there is something deeply ugly and rebellious at the core of every human being. But the Lord also made humans in his own image, and people are not only sinful: they are, at the same time, beautiful and amazing too. So here we see some of the amazing things done by David’s closest associates.

We are introduced first to “the three;” that is, the three most famous and honored warriors led by David. First was Josheb Basshebeth, also known, in 1 Chronicles 11, as “Jashobeam.” He killed 800 enemies with his spear in a single battle. Next of “the three” was Eleazar. He and David stood alone together against the Philistines at a place called Pas Dammin. They fought so long and furiously that Eleazar’s hand cramped around his sword, and he couldn’t let go of it for some time afterwards. Although David was a part of that battle, the point in this passage is not about David, but his men. Third was Shammah, son of Agee from Harar. He defended a field from the Philistines, apparently all by himself, and won a great victory. Apparently, one of the “thirty mighty men,” a man named Jonathan, was the son of this Shammah.

In verses 13-17 we have another exploit that “the three” undertook together. Some translations, in verse 13 say something like: “And three of the thirty chief men went down (ESV).” This casts doubt on whether it was “the three” or just three unidentified men out of “the thirty.” However, the text has not yet introduced us to “the thirty” and verses 16 and 17 seem to be talking specifically about “the three.” So I prefer the NLT. “The Three (who were among the Thirty—an elite group among David’s fighting men) went down to meet him there.” There is a bit of interpretation, or clarification, added to the Hebrew here by the NLT, but I think it’s the right interpretation, and it is supported by the context.

In any case, the incident took place when David was in the cave of Adullam, and the Philistines were in the valley of Rephaim, and had spread out all the way to Bethlehem. Although this could have been before David was king, when he was hiding from both Saul and the Philistines, I think the context best fits 2 Samuel 5:17-25. In fact, we looked briefly at this story in 2 Samuel #5.

David had only recently become king, and the Philistines invaded up the valley of Rephaim, getting as far as Bethlehem, which was David’s hometown. David, being a great strategist, had already taken his army and concealed it in the caves that were found in the south side of that valley. They were in a good strategic position, but it broke David’s heart that he had to let the Philistines occupy Bethlehem. It was probably a hot day, and he exclaimed how much he wished he could have a drink from the well at Bethlehem, the clear, cold water he grew up drinking. He was certainly wishing for that drink because he was hot and thirsty. But he was also wishing that the battle was over and the Philistines were defeated, and his hometown was safe. But “the three” took David at his word, and broke through the Philistine lines, drew water from the well, and brought it back to David without getting hurt themselves. David’s response is interesting

But he refused to drink it. Instead, he poured it out as an offering to the LORD. 17 “The LORD forbid that I should drink this!” he exclaimed. “This water is as precious as the blood of these men who risked their lives to bring it to me.” (2 Samuel 23:16-17, NLT)

The reason the author of the book of Samuel tells that story here, and not in chapter five, is because it illustrates his main point in this epilogue. David is not the hero. Salvation does not come from David. Instead, David is just a servant of the Lord. It is through the Lord that salvation comes, and even David himself consistently testified to this.

When I first read this, I thought, “I’d be angry if I were one of those three warriors.” But actually, I think what David was saying was this: “I am not worthy of such a costly drink. I can’t claim it. Only the Lord is worthy of that kind of effort and self-sacrifice.” He was actually honoring the men more by pouring it out than by drinking it. He “poured it out to the Lord.” He was saying that the lives of these men were precious to the Lord. There was a type of offering called a drink offering, where a drink (usually wine) was poured into the ground. The idea was to say, “this is God’s, not mine, and I pour it out to show that everything I drink ultimately comes from God.” So, David did not consider himself worthy of that kind of sacrifice from his men, and he directed their attention to the Lord. Life wasn’t about him, it was about God. The Lord was the one who gave them the strength and flat-out guts to do this amazing deed. He was the one who was to be honored, not David.

The hero of this entire story is the Lord. David consciously realized this, and made statements to draw attention to the Lord, rather than himself.

The author of Samuel goes on to tell about a few more people whom the Lord used to establish the kingdom of his people, Israel. The next one is Abishai. There are some differences of opinion about the original wording of verses 18-19, about Abishai. Here’s one way it could be:

18 Abishai, Joab’s brother and son of Zeruiah, was leader of the Three. He raised his spear against 300 men and killed them, gaining a reputation among the Three. 19 Was he not more honored than the Three? He became their commander even though he did not become one of the Three. (2 Samuel 23:18-19, HCSB)

Or:

18 Now Abishai, the brother of Joab, the son of Zeruiah, was chief of the thirty. And he wielded his spear against three hundred men and killed them and won a name beside the three. 19 He was the most renowned of the thirty and became their commander, but he did not attain to the three. (2 Samuel 23:18-19, ESV)

This difference is known as a “major variant” in textual criticism. Basically, the main Hebrew textual traditions have it the way the HCSB says it. But there are some early Hebrew texts, as well as a translation of this passage into Syriac (an ancient middle eastern language) that have it as the ESV translates it. The ESV contains a note explaining this.

 We don’t know which one of these is closest to the original. You can see that it doesn’t matter theologically at all. What we can know for sure either way is that Abishai is one of the four most honored warriors of David. He’s either number one, and the chief of the three, or he is number four, the chief of the other thirty most elite soldiers.

As we’ve gone through the book of Samuel I’ve found myself admiring Abishai more and more. He shared David’s troubles while David was still an outlaw. He and David performed the amazing feat of sneaking into the camp of Saul and stealing his spear and water jug. He was clearly a fearsome warrior. He often didn’t understand, or agree with, the decisions David made, but he went along with David anyway, and submitted to David’s leadership. For instance, when they were standing next to a sleeping Saul, Abishai wanted to kill Saul, for David’s sake. David said, “no,” and Abishai acquiesced. Much later, Abishai accompanied David when he left Jerusalem in shame, fleeing from Absalom. The man named Shimei insulted David in a cowardly way, and Abishai wanted to kill him, but when David said no, Abishai did as he was told. When they returned in victory, Abishai wanted to kill Shimei again, then, but David still said no, and Abishai, again, obeyed. In other words, he followed David, and obeyed him, even when he didn’t understand, or agree. It boils down to this: he trusted David and David’s leadership even when he didn’t understand it. In that respect, he shows us how we ought to follow Jesus Christ.

In all of this, Abishai was very different from his older brother, Joab. We know that Abishai killed at least 300 enemies in a single battle. He certainly fought in many other battles, presumably killing other enemies. But the scripture never mentions Joab killing enemies in battle, except as a general, in which case he, personally, was not likely involved in the fighting. The only time we know for sure that Joab killed anyone was on the three occasions when he committed murder. And Joab committed those murders explicitly in defiance of David. Joab himself is not honored in this text as one of David’s elite warriors. Even though he was the overall commander of the army as a whole, here, he is only mentioned as Abishai’s brother. He also gets a mention because one of the thirty, Naharai, was his armor-bearer. Abishai had the strength of character to be a better man than his older brother, following God’s chosen leader faithfully, even when he didn’t understand, or fully agree.

The final person singled out for special praise is Benaiah, son of Jehoiada. If you want to think about what kind of a warrior he was, simply remember these things: on a snowy day he chased a lion into a pit and killed it; and on another occasion he faced an imposing Egyptian warrior with a spear, while he only held a wooden staff. He took the spear away from the other warrior, and killed him with his own weapon. Benaiah was younger than many of those named here, and only served David later on in his reign. However, he went on to serve as the chief bodyguard of king Solomon as well. In that capacity, he executed both Shimei and Joab.

Next, we come to the list of “the thirty,” who are, along with the others mentioned, the most fearsome, elite warriors of David. You may notice that the list of “the thirty” includes more than thirty people. It’s not clear whether Abishai is to be counted among them, or Benaiah son of Jehoiada. We know that some of those listed died when David was still relatively young. Asahel was killed before David became king over all Israel. We know, of course, that Uriah was killed when David was middle aged. So “the thirty” is obviously a round number, and there was some change in the composition of the group, but it was a special and exclusive company.

As we read about these people, their names are very foreign to English speakers. Even worse, most of them are also identified by their family or clan name, or possibly the town they are from, and those names are difficult as well. These things make this text hard to follow. Because of this I recommend reading a translation like the New Living Translation, since it simplifies and clarifies the names. The God’s Word version helpfully puts each name on a new line so we can keep track of them more easily, and that also helps us separate the first names from the family names and place names. Of course, what remains are still names that are strange to us.

But maybe these names are there for a reason. After thirty centuries, these names have never been forgotten. God knows his own people, by name. He knows you, too, and your name, if you trust Jesus, is also written in God’s book.

Even though we humans have been broken by sin, there is still part of the amazing image of God that shines through our brokenness. David’s gang of thirty were people who willingly gave themselves to serve David; ultimately, to serve God. Because of that, we see God’s glory through them. We too, are called, broken as we are, to let the glory of God shine through us, as we serve God’s chosen one, Jesus Christ.

Another thing I think we are meant to understand is that David did not become king all by himself. Though he was a remarkable man in many different ways, he needed the help of many others. No one really does anything significant without help from others.

We all need each other. We each need to find our own “gang of thirty” and guard each other’s backs, deal with life side by side together, and cheer one another on. Start with a “gang of three or four,” and build from there. In other words, we need close fellowship with a few other believers who will stand with us when we need it. We need to be prepared to stand with them in times of need, as well. If you don’t have a gang of three or four, or a larger support network, start by asking the Lord to provide that for you, and then keep your eyes and ears open to hear from the Lord who you should spend time with to develop that support network. Remember that these people will not only be there for you, but you should be there for them, as well.

Most of “the thirty” joined David when he was still an outlaw. Some of the others were children, who grew up in David’s nomadic camp, and then joined the thirty when they were older. They traveled with him, fought alongside him, planned, did chores and simply lived life together. They willingly shared David’s hardships and suffering, and, at the end of it all, they also shared in the success and honor of David. They were an important part of the kingdom that David was building.

David was not the messiah, but the Lord used him to show us some things about the true Messiah, Jesus Christ. Jesus invites us into close fellowship with himself. He invites us into everyday life with him. He also sometimes invites us into hardship and suffering; but that suffering is to be alongside him—we are not alone in it. In fact, if our lives truly belong to him (as they do, if, in fact, we trust him) then it is really his suffering that we are sharing in. David’s followers encountered that hardship and suffering as, and because, they went through life with David. Though they all suffered, it was, in a sense, David’s suffering; they shared in it because they were connected with him. In the same way, even our own sufferings are not really our own. We encounter them as we are part of the people of Jesus. So, we are not alone as we suffer. We have God’s own promise that one day the suffering will end, and we will share in the glory.

16 For his Spirit joins with our spirit to affirm that we are God’s children. 17 And since we are his children, we are his heirs. In fact, together with Christ we are heirs of God’s glory. But if we are to share his glory, we must also share his suffering.
18 Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later. 19 For all creation is waiting eagerly for that future day when God will reveal who his children really are. (Romans 8:16-19, NLT)

When we see the earthly glory that David’s followers shared, we should be encouraged to look beyond. Jesus is better than David. His promises are powerful and real. We can learn to have peace and joy now, no matter what is going on, because we know that one day glory will far outshine the worst sufferings we experience.

16 That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. 17 For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! 18 So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever. (2 Corinthians 4:16-18, NLT)

Finally, we should be reminded that hope does not come from earthly leaders, even really good ones. True hope that lasts is found only in God’s promised messiah, Jesus Christ. In Christ we will be led to our support network. In Christ, we will share in suffering, and in Christ we will share in eternal glory and joy so amazing that we will consider the sufferings of this life not worth mentioning.