Blind Man's Fancy

“Wisdom is with aged men, with long life is understanding” (Job 12.12).

Father’s Day this year meant church with Dad.  Church with Dad meant a morning spent with the men of Adult 7.  (For all you hipsters, that’s what churches call Sunday School classes before small groups, cell groups, community  groups, life groups, and care groups).  I thought I was doing Dad a solid by flanking him in Sunday School, but clearly it was the reverse.

By the way, there is no Adult 8.  It will not surprise any of the men of Adult 7 if they attend another funeral this week of any one of them they saw today.  They’re used to the probability one of them will not be back next week, or ever.  I have no idea if there is any intentional correlation between seven being the biblical number of “completion” and Adult 7, but it does fit.

These are men who shot really big guns at really bad people for a really long time.  These are men who have buried wives (maybe two) and children.  These are men who increasingly bury really close friends.  And they are still humbled by the grace of God to them.  They can tell war stories, but would rather tell you about Jesus.  They have earned every wrinkle and every ounce of our respect.

These are men.  Christian men.  Men who started together in Adult 1 and now six decades later still meet faithfully together.  The church in all its so-called “wisdom” and innovation has passed them by.  One room church buildings have given way to children and youth wings with strobe lights, plasma screens and gut-rattling speakers.  And here is Adult 7: men still gathering every Sunday like they have for the last sixty years, with their Bibles and Sunday School books open on their laps.  They’re praying for the litany of doctors’ visits, the new widows of their friends and the salvation of children and grandchildren.  They may ride an elevator to their class now, but they still run the race.

The men of Adult 7 can’t hear very well.  They walk slow.  They hobble along in their high-waisted pants.  But the men of Adult 7 don’t complain.  They don’t make excuses.  They don’t miss.

They don’t text.  They talk.  They don’t whine.  They work.  They don’t grumble.  They give.

These are men.  Christian men.

These are men who smile and have conversations.  Their legs may be weak, but their handshake as firm as ever.  They look you in the eye and greet you in the Lord.

They still wear their coats and ties because that’s what men like them do.  The men of Adult 7 still fill out their offering envelopes.  They still use their tattered KJV Bibles with decades of notes scribbled in the margins.  Bible on a phone?  Who needs that?

The men of Adult 7 don’t care about blog posts, Facebook or who’s tweeting what about whom.  They care about eating breakfast together Tuesday at Chick-Fil-A.  They know the precious value of Christian brotherhood and how quickly it comes to an end.  Social media for these men is a hot cup of coffee shared across a table.

In The Abolition of Man, C.S. Lewis wrote:

We make men without chests and expect from them virtue and enterprise.  We laugh at honor and are shocked to find traitors in our midst.

The men of Adult 7 are men with chests.  They are men of honor.  They are not perfect.  But they are men.  Christian men.

And if you have any sense about you then you don’t run your puny mouth in Adult 7.  You sit.  You watch.  You listen.  You learn.

I wonder if we need less catering to pre-teens, tweeners, teenagers and singles.  For all our baptized theatrics, youth camps, guitar riffs and decisionism, we have not made men with chests.  We’ve created spoiled consumers who think the church exists to entertain them.  We’re not creating 60-year men.  Many might say the “youth” are the church’s future and therefore we must do everything we can to keep them interested, whatever the cost.  I wonder if we should lock the door to the youth wing and make every student sit in Adult 7.  And they should do so until they realize “adult” has less to do with age and more to do with a scarred, weathered, hardscrabble life of faith in Christ.

Let’s create men.  Christian men.

Say what you want about all the “progress” the church has made.  In the end, this “youth” hopes to be a man worthy of Adult 7.

Let’s be honest.  We love Bible verses that seem to amplify our abilities.  I love anything that tells me I have greatness inside me.  And if God himself tells me I can shoot for the stars then, well, who is to argue?  If Jesus strengthens me to do “all things” then the sky’s the limit on what I can be or do.

Certainly, we all crave encouragement.  I want my son to pursue excellence, work hard, be ambitious, set lofty goals, have high ambitions.  I want him to set his mind to honorable dreams and cultivate a “can do” attitude.  Whether it be a broken mower or broken life, I don’t want him to give up.  But I also don’t want him to think Jesus stands at his beck-and-call to serve his every desire and effort.

Many of us wield Philippians 4.13 as if part of the Festivus “Feats of Strength” celebration. We assume “all things” means achieving the highest success, lifting the heaviest rock, getting that promotion, beating that cancer.  If God strengthens me to do all things then he is obliged to prosper whatever I set my mind to do.  God is all about my fame, comfort, exaltation and accomplishment.

Is that what Paul confessed in the context of Philippians 4.13?  Did he mean we could do the impossible if we rely on Jesus?  He was in prison (1.12-14).  And God has broken Paul out of prison before (Acts 16.26).  Did Paul suggest he could break out of prison because Jesus strengthened him?  No one need to worry, Jesus would strengthen him to go free.

In the immediate context (vv10-20), Paul commended the Philippians for their generosity. As prisoners depended on the support of friends and family, Paul benefited from the substantial support of the Philippian church.  Whatever the amount of their gift, it was “in full” and an “abundance” (v18).  And this was not their first gift (vv15-16).  Paul said the Philippians Christians were the only church to support him at the time.  In bringing another substantial gift, the Philippians were in fact offering a sweet-smelling, well-pleasing sacrifice to God himself (v18).

But as much as Paul appreciated their support, he made sure they knew he did not worship their gift.  He had “learned” to be content whether he had nothing or had everything (v11).  In other words, he loved and preached Christ all the same whether he ate from a can or at a buffet.

Paul spoke of his contentment as having learned a “secret” (v12).  Indeed, it is a secret.  He was not throw off by “humble means,” “going hungry,” or “suffering need” any more than “prosperity,” “being filled,” or “having abundance.”  In other words, as much as Paul appreciated the Philippians’ gift and hoped they would eternally benefit from it (v17), he was not in any spiritual jeopardy.  Paul would not be tempted to worship and depend on abundance.  And he would not be tempted to despair and distrust for lack.  His ministry would not be defined by how much he had or not.  His ministry was defined by Christ’s righteousness through faith (3.9).

When Paul says he could do “all things” through (or “in”) him who strengthened him, he was referring to a secret, otherworldly contentment. He could just as well live in poverty as in prosperity. He could just as well preach Christ in a prison as in a palace.  By “all things” he didn’t mean he could accomplish great feats and scale the heights “in Jesus’ name.”  He didn’t mean capturing the world’s attention by death-defying, jaw-dropping miracles.  He meant he could go hungry with as much strength as eating well.  He gladly aspired to poverty as one might aspire to prosperity (cf. 1 Cor 4.11-13).  He could “do” famine and “do” feast.  He could do all things without being derailed from preaching Christ.

It takes as much strength to suffer need as it does to handle abundance.  In fact, Paul suggested it takes more strength to go hungry than to be filled.  Even further, Paul devoted his life to knowing “the fellowship of [Christ's] sufferings, being conformed to His death” (3.10). Paul might well have said the more he suffered then the more he was like Jesus.  Everybody “praises Jesus” when the belly and bank account are fat.  Contentment is easy when we’re “amply supplied.”  But what sort of strength is needed when the cupboard and coffer are slim?  Everyone wants to be like Jesus when Jesus is wearing Armani, eating lamb and drinking chardonnay.  But what strength do we need to be like Jesus when he is homeless, naked and hungry?

Why would Paul begin v14 with “nevertheless” (Greek, plen)? He did not say, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me, and now your gift will help me reach my dreams.”  He said, “I rejoice that you’ve remembered me again.  But, you must know I would have been just fine either way. My ministry was not in the least bit threatened by lack, but I’ve learned to be content. To live is Christ and die is gain (1.21), so I am dead to the world and alive to Christ no matter what.”

Then, we read “nevertheless” (not “so,” as if their gift was the reason he could now do more than he was already doing).  Paul knew what he said in v12 could lead the Philippians to think he was indifferent to their gift.  If he was just as content without it as with it, then what were they to make of their generosity?  Paul stressed their gift would be God’s means to profit and bless them more than himself.  Their gift did help Paul at one level.  But, it would eventually be used up.  At another level, though, their gift was about God’s glory and riches in Christ (v19).  And in that respect, it would never be used up.

Let’s be careful of our “pet” verses. Philippians 4.13 is not about achieving greatness with Jesus along for the ride. It’s about just the opposite. As much as anything, doing “all things” means going hungry and suffering need for the sake of Christ. Are you ready to be strengthened for that prospect? If so, let’s put down those barbells and take up our cross.

“For I know the plans that I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans for welfare and not calamity to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29.11).

There are many verses and texts we’ve become so familiar with that they’ve lost their original meaning and intent.  Psalm 42.1, 46.10, and Philippians 4.13 come to mind.  We see them elegantly displayed on framed pictures overpriced in the local Christian “book”store.  They’re on coffee mugs and leather journals, plaques and posters.  After so long we’ve stopped considering if the verse actually means what is being implied by the artwork or friendly advice.

We love truth in sound bites, tweets and texts.  Who cares what it means as long as it makes us feel good and matches the decor?  We modern, enlightened, everything-is-microwavable people treat Scripture as a collection of one-liners rather than a body of redemptive truth.  In so doing, we pull out a few verses that serve our personal best interests and ignore the context (historical and textual) in which they were written.

Once such verse is Jeremiah 29.11.  Whenever someone is enduring a tough time, we pull out Jeremiah 29.11 as the silver bullet to personal suffering.  Whatever we are going through, God always has a plan to make it all better.  If you’re broke, God has plans to make you wealthier.  If you’re sick, God has plans to heal you.  If you’re discouraged, God has plans to make you happier.  If you’re anonymous, God has plans to make you famous.  God’s plans are all about you and ridding your life of all its pain and turmoil.  Just you wait.  It’s like a lucky rabbit’s foot; keep massaging Jeremiah 29.11 until your destiny breaks through.

But Jeremiah 29.11 is about far more, infinitely more, than what God has planned for my small life in this small world for the nanosecond we call “this age.”  Jeremiah 29.11 is about God’s master plan to take an otherwise sinful, exiled people and make them princes, sons and heirs of Christ’s new covenant Kingdom.  The “plans” God has in Jeremiah 29.11 are not about my personal success in this life.  They’re about Christ’s personal success to give us something beyond this life worth calling a real “future.”  Peter would call the hope promised in Jeremiah our “living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Pt 1.3).

Jeremiah wrote to “the rest of the elders of the exile, the priests, the prophets and all the people whom Nebuchadnezzar had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon” (Jer 29.1; cf. v4).  Because of Israel’s unrepentant idolatry and wickedness, God sent Nebuchadnezzar and his Babylonian thugs to conquer Jerusalem and carry the important people into exile (see Daniel).  Israel was not in Babylon because of an unlucky break or unfortunate political move.  They were in exile because they were rebels against God and rebels against God always lost the place God gave them (see Adam, Abraham, Noah, Babel, etc.).  Basically, in losing our privilege in Eden by not kicking Satan out of God’s place we estranged the whole earth from God.  And we’ve been losing our home in God’s presence ever since.  Since we rebelled in the Garden, every place any person has ever lived has been Babylon.  It is the world estranged from God because of sin.

Jeremiah wrote God’s word to exiles who deserved to be so.  And God commanded a rather unexpected life for the exiles.  They weren’t to revolt against Babylon or even try to Judaize Babylon.  They weren’t to boycott Babylon or incessantly complain about it.  They weren’t even to try moving.  They were to make a life in Babylon (vv5-7).  Put down roots.  Raise lots of kids.  Pray that God might bless Babylon with peace so they would enjoy peace.  They were to live in Babylon without becoming Babylonian.

Israel was not, however, to give any attention to the false prophets, palm readers and dream weavers among them (vv8-9).  God had been clear and there was no need to entertain anything more than what he’s already said.  Despite any preacher’s promise of a quick fix, the exile would last seventy years (v10).  Anyone suggesting or promising an easy way out was a charlatan.  God’s word was sufficient to sustain them while in exile.

Then we come to v11.  Our God is the Merciful, Longsuffering, Forgiving, Saving God of the universe.  And for his covenant people, Babylon would not have the last word.  Their exile was for their repentance (vv12-13).  God would see to it his people return to him  And he promises to be found by them and give them a home in his presence.

God will also judge all those who distorted his promise of salvation (vv15-19).  God would curse those who preyed on the people by selling fear and doubt (vv21-32).  Anyone who refused to listen and believe God’s word would be severely punished.

In Jeremiah 29.11, God promises far more than could fit in a thousand lifetimes.  Jeremiah looked forward to the gospel of Jesus Christ.  What does God promise a people exiled for their sin and helpless to save themselves from a wicked tyrant?  He promises that he will not always leave them in their well-deserved exile.  The life they make while in exile is not the life they will always live.  Rather God will give them a home of their own.  A home with him.  Their salvation rested on the sheer pity of God to redeem them.

Jesus promised in John 14.2-3 that he was going to prepare a place for his followers in the Father’s house.

By the way, this is another distorted verse.  Jesus doesn’t prepare each follower his own mansion.  The word for “dwelling places” is more like rooms in a huge apartment building.  Besides, Jesus isn’t referring to living quarters at all but to the expansive grace of God to save trillions of people.  But I digress.

He was telling his disciples what Jeremiah told the sinner-exiles: this world is not your home, but you must live in it for a while (see John 17.13-16).  But the day is coming when Jesus will return to bring the exiles home.  We live now with this “living hope” that what God promised he will fulfill.  And we must not entertain anyone suggesting otherwise.

In the meantime, in this place between promise and fulfillment, we make a life without it becoming our life (1 Cor 7.29-31).  We plant roots.  We raise lots of kids.  We take jobs and make widgets.  We use the world without becoming worldly.  We pray God blesses this foreign place with peace so that we may live quiet lives (1 Tim 2.1-2).

Yes, we are exiles in Babylon because we deserve to be.  But God has plans.  Those plans were put on display in Christ and guaranteed by the cross and resurrection.  God’s plans are not not for persons per se, but for a people.  And those in Christ are part of the new covenant people sustained by the living hope of their Living Savior.  We may be aliens, strangers and sojourners in this place, but we are sons and heirs in God’s place.  Just you wait (Col 3.4).

No, God’s plans are not about my personal health or wealth.  Neither poverty nor sickness keep anyone out of heaven.  Those plans are not even about this life at all.  They are plans to bring “all the ransomed church of God” home to “be saved to sin no more.”  Now, that’s a truth worth framing.

Today begins my 19th year as a Christian.  Eighteen years ago today God said “Let there be Light” in the brooding darkness of my soul (2 Cor 4.6).  Though I had grown up a church rat and sat through a thousand gospel appeals, it took the sovereign grace of God to make me believe in Jesus.  My problem wasn’t ignorance.  It was rebellion.  On April 1, 1995, I didn’t necessarily learn anything I had not heard before.  I was subdued by the Relentless God.  Arrested by love.  Conquered by grace.  Gifted with repentance.  In sum, resurrected from the dead.

I did all the sinning and self-righteous game-playing.  God did all the saving.  I did all the hating and lying.  God did all the loving and forgiving.   I did all the dying.  Jesus did all the living.

Jesus didn’t die for me when I believed.  I believed because Jesus died for me.  I often wonder if it’s the church kids, the “good” kids, who need the gospel most.

I am thankful for parents who raised me in the graces of the church.  Church was simply part of our life.  While some despise the notion of being at church “every time the doors are open,” I praise God we were.  Mom and Dad loved the church and made sure I developed a gospel vocabulary and church-as-life orientation.  And I will spend eternity benefiting from that.

I am thankful for a mom who, though eaten alive by cancer, spent many of her dying breaths praying for her sons.  We moved mom downstairs next to my room to better facilitate her care.  I will never forget her groans of pain as chemotherapy and cancer waged war inside her.  But, I am confident those cries were nothing compared to the outcries of her heart to see her Jesus.  And to know those prayers were laced with pleas that her Jesus would save her 16-year-old, cocky, rebellious, church kid prick humbles me for eternity.  God shouldn’t save people like me.  That’s why he ordained from eternity past to create a universe where he is known and enjoyed for his grace (Eph 1.3-14).

I am thankful for a dad who is in his 61st year of membership at the same church.  Sixty-one years!  Most folks have changed churches 59 times in that span!  He’s a “lifetime deacon” now and has slowed quite a bit in his service.  He’s been a widower for 23 years.  And he’s been a permanent part of our home now for one year.

I was an “accident” in our family.  I doubt Mom expected to give birth at 43-years-old nor Dad at 48.  Byron Timothy died in 1954 after surviving a day with a whole in his heart.  Maybe I was their “Seth.”  And while Dad was a bit too old to play one-on-one or wrestle for the heavyweight belt, he taught me far more important things.  He loves Truth and still wears his wedding band.  He still defends his boy and I am still compelled to love his approval.  He’s a Christian dad.

I am thankful for two (much older!) brothers who tolerated a pesky, whiny little brother who was spoiled as the day is long.  Okay, they still do and I still am.  Sometimes it felt like I had three sets of parents.  They had high expectations and wouldn’t let me win or make excuses for losing.  I wouldn’t change a thing.  My brothers are my heroes.  They love Jesus, serve the church, raise terrific kids who now confess Christ and I can only hope to live up to their legacies.  I can only imagine the hours spent in prayer for their baby brother who spend 21 years lying about faith and skirting the gospel.  God bless them.

I am thankful for faithful preachers, children’s teachers, youth and college pastors who did far more sowing than reaping in my life.  That is the life of the preacher, isn’t it?  Plowing and plodding hard and stony ground, delaying any assurance of a harvest until eternity.  I am thankful to have heard the gospel three times a week, twice on Sunday.  I didn’t know it at the time (or care, frankly) but God’s Word was doing it’s work even when I refused to believe it (Is 55.10-11).  It’s just like God to do his saving work despite those who insist on their “free will.”

A lot goes into saving a man.  He reads about most of it in the Gospels.  The rest he will see in glory.  In the meantime, he lives by faith knowing he wiggles around in the strong right hand of the Almighty God.

I am thankful for a wife who endures many days with a man who belies the very Jesus he professes to believe.  She came into my life about the same time God saved me.  So, she’s been on this journey since the beginning.  It’s been uphill for her most of the way, weighted down by the baggage of a fickle husband.  But, she’s a Christian and Christians endure, by the grace of God.  Eighteen years is a long time to be doubled-over (Lk 13.11), but Amy has been a tireless lover of Jesus.  I am a man “sanctified through his wife” (1 Cor 7.14).

I am thankful for friends, brothers and sisters in Christ, who labored for me in prayer and witness.  I’ll not know most of them or how they interceded on my behalf.  They are the kind of folks who would rather receive their praise from God in glory.  But, I pray they are credited with an eternity’s worth of any gospel fruit in my life.

In the last 18 years as a Christian there have been many days I wondered if I was a Christian at all.  I am confident there were many more days when others wondered the same thing.  But when I lay my head on my pillow tonight God has made sure I believe he saves sinners.  Jesus did not die for the godly, but the ungodly (Rom 5.6).  And I fit that bill.

God be praised that Jesus died and was raised for church kids.  I pray Jesus made room for three more in his Kingdom.

Many of us memorized Psalm 118.24 in children’s choir.  It was a catchy tune that is hardly forgettable.  God be praised for those children’s workers who helped seal Scripture in our minds and hearts.  As we get older we cannot help but wake up applying Psalm 18.24 to the day.

But is there more to Psalm 118.24 than meets the eye (or ear)?  What day exactly did the psalmist consider worthy of rejoicing in?  By “this” did the psalmist mean any and every day?  Or did he mean a specific day unlike all other days?

Psalm 118 is part of a selection of psalms sung particularly at Passover (Pss 113-118).  They are majestic, transcendent, glorious songs of God’s salvation and the anticipation of the ultimate deliverance if his people.  Psalm 118 might well be the crescendo of these songs.

The psalm calls Israel to worship God for his tireless, inexhaustible mercy (vv1-4).  It didn’t matter how puny Israel may have been in the world’s eyes, Yahweh was her warrior (vv5-9).  Time and time again, God exalted Israel over bully nations.  No sort of earthly leader could ever protect like God protects.  Israel and her king were goners, surrounded by the world’s finest of armies (vv10-14).  But God helped and saved.  Whatever discipline God might inflict on Israel and her king, it was for the purpose of worship (vv15-18).  With Jerusalem secure, the gates of righteousness were open to God’s people (vv19-21).

Now, we come to the context of v24.  We find the psalmist referring to “this” day as the day when man’s rejected cornerstone became God’s chief cornerstone (v22).  The day in which we rejoice is the day in which Israel’s king was rejected by men, but who was marvelously saved and exalted by God (v23).  Though no nation thought Israel or her king worth their snuff, God proved his love for them by delivering them.  The day the Lord has made is the day when his people are saved through the ministry of the despised but exalted cornerstone.  It is the day when God himself comes to finally deliver his oppressed people from the tyranny of their sin.  Jews would not sing this about any or every day, but of the day when God comes to forever destroy their enemies and mercifully and finally save them.  It was The Day to which the Passover looked, The Day above all days.   It was the New Exodus to rival and surpass the Exodus celebrated at Passover (see Lk 9.31).

Psalm 118 is popular in the life and ministry of Jesus.  The NT quotes v22 repeatedly in referring to Jesus (Mt 21.42; Mk 12.10-11; Lk 20.17; Acts 4.11; Eph 2.20; 1 Pt 2.7).  As Jewish families welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem, they sang to/about him the familiar refrain in v26: “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD” (Mt 21.9; 23.39; Mk 11.9; Lk 13.35; 19.38; Jn 12.13).  God had finally come for them in that Jesus had humbly come to them.  Jesus was the Light of the world (Jn 1.4-5; 8.12; 9.5) who had come to give us light (Ps 118.27) and lead us out of darkness (Lk 1.78-79).

While certainly every day is a day God has orchestrated (Ps 19), and that for our worship, there is one Day that stands above all the rest.   In fact, there would be no reason to rejoice in any day if there were not “this” day.  The day to which the psalmist refers is the day when God comes to his lowly, weak, disregarded, sin-ridden people and gloriously brings them through the gates of righteousness into his kingdom.  We find “this” day to be fulfilled in the Passover day to end all Passover days: the day the Lamb of God was slaughtered for the salvation of sinners.  The Marvelous Day was the day when men rejected Jesus as a pathetic criminal, but in so doing God made him the capstone of his true temple.

There may not be a better way to memorize Psalm 118.24 than the snappy children’s tune.  Let’s teach and sing it with great joy.  But let’s also do it with the same purpose for which the psalmist wrote it.  The day the Lord has made is not Sunday, with all due respect to the musical call to worship in many churches.  It is not any other day simply because we can cross it off on a calendar.  It is not simply another 24-hour period of breathing.

The day the LORD has made is not any old day the sun rises (albeit a gift from God), but The Day when the Son rises.  “This” day is not one defined by astronomical revolutions or lunar cycles.  No, this is the day especially made by God to be The Day above all other days.  And there is no reason to rejoice in any day if we do not first rejoice and are not glad in That Day.

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life” (Jn 3.16).

Modern Calvinist and nonCalvinist Southern Baptists tussle over John 3:16.  Who exactly owns the deed to this hallowed ground?  NonCalvinists insist the “whosoever will” is an impossible hurdle for Calvinists to jump.  Calvinists insist “whosoever will” implies “whosoever can” which demands the sovereignly granted ability to believe.

I wonder if we’ve missed the forest for the trees.  Have we isolated v16 so much that it has lost its place in the context?

Despite the red letters in most English Bibles, Jesus’ dialogue with Nicodemus probably ends at v15.  John’s commentary probably begins in v16.  And the verse might well hinge a couple of words: the one little Greek word houtos (“so”) and the meaning of “the world” (ton cosmon).

1.  Houtos (“so”).  A world of interpretation rests on that little word.  For some, “so” speaks to the measure of God’s love, it’s width and breadth (“For God soooooooo loved the world”).  That is, God loved so many people in so many places that he granted them the freedom and ability to believe in Jesus.  In this case, “so” (houtos) qualifies the “whoever” that believes.  “So” necessitates the ability of “whoever” to believe.

We must affirm and proclaim God’s exhausting love for sinners whoever and wherever they are.  But I’m not sure the focus of John 3:16 is on how much of the world God loves, but on the way in which God loves it.

The word houtos (“so”) always refers to “in like manner” or “in this way.”  (Ironically, this is captured by the Holman Christian Standard Bible, the Southern Baptists’ newly-favored translation!)  For example, I might teach my son to throw a baseball by throwing one myself and then say, “Son, you do like so.”  That is, “You throw it the way I threw it.”

We need only back up a couple of verses to see John is doing the same thing.  John 3.14-15 read, “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so [houtos] must the Son of Man be lifted up; so that whoever believes will in Him have eternal life.”  That is, in the way Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness (Num 21.9) the Son of Man will be lifted up.  And that for the purpose of securing eternal life for all who believe.

Verse 16 mirrors vv14-15.  God “so” loved the world means “this is the way or manner by/in which God has loved the world.”  He loved the world by giving his only Son for salvation.  Verse 16b echoes v15: the purpose for God lifting up the Son like Moses did the serpent is for the eternal life for all who believe.  As God loved Israel by giving them the bronze serpent, he loves the world by giving it his Son.

Consider John 3.8 where Jesus tells Nicodemus, “The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so (houtos) is everyone who is born of the Spirit.”  God effects regeneration by the Holy Spirit in the same way the wind blows: mysteriously, but demonstrably.  The Spirit causes new birth in the manner that the unseen wind blows.

The focus of John 3:16 is not on how many people God loves (though that be many, deep and wide).  The focus is on how God loves and what exactly he loves.  John is not so much interested in how many will believe and by what ability, but on God’s great love for a hostile, rebellious world that he would send His only Son to save it.  John exalts Jesus as the sole means of salvation for any and all who believe (however many that is and by whatever ability they do so).  John’s interest is the same as Jesus’ interest: the Son of Man.

2.  “World”.  Further, it is indeed “the world” (ton cosmon) God loved.  Again, many take “world” to refer to the extent of God’s love.  The “world” means every single person in every single place.  But John does not intend it to be taken so (pun intended).  “World” is not a quantitative word, but a qualitative one.  God loved the world not because of how big it is, but how bad it is (D.A. Carson).  That is to say, God loved the realm of wholesale cosmic rebellion in this way: he sent his Only Son to save rebels. The emphasis is on the remarkable nature of God that he would send his most treasured Possession to save his most offensive enemies.

In no way do I mean to explain away the breadth of God’s love.  But we do well to recover the main thrust of John 3:16.  Jesus and John would not have us exalt the unrestrained ability of men everywhere to believe (that case might be made elsewhere).  They would have us exalt the inestimable and unrestrained love God has for such a rebellious universe that he would send his Son to save it.  We are to rejoice that God loved this kind of place (the “world”) in this kind of way (sending Jesus).  Who but God would or could do such a thing?  In the end, neither Jesus nor John leave us comforted by the ability of anyone to believe but on impulse of God to eternally save us through his Son.  John 3:16 is hopeful not because of man’s ability (such as it is) but on God’s liberality; not on what man is able to do but on what God has done.

“The LORD shall never be willing to forgive him, but rather the anger of the LORD and His jealousy will burn against that man, and every curse which is written in this book will rest on him, and the LORD will blot out his name from under heaven.  Then the LORD will single him out for adversity from all the tribes of Israel, according to all the curses of the covenant which are written in this book of the law” (Dt 29.20-21).

Such is the fate of those “whose heart turns away today from the LORD our God” (Dt 29.18),  those at peace in their rebellion (v19).  Such is the fate of us all.

One of the transcendent mysteries of the cross is that it we will never exhaust its significance.  The law of diminishing returns never applies to the gospel.  Rather it continues to return exponential reward to those who love and believe it.  It always bears more fruit and never fails to leave us wanting.

We can never understate or underestimate what it meant for Jesus to take on our sin.  This is largely due to the fact we ourselves don’t consider our sin nearly as grievous as God did!  If we think lightly of our sin then we’ll not think much of what Jesus endured to save us from it.

Paul described Christ’s work this way: “[God] made the one who knew no sin [i.e. Jesus] to be sin” (2 Cor 5.21a).  God made Jesus the embodiment of sin.  God the Father chose to consider and then treat God the Son as he promised to treat any and all who rebel against him.

God the Father treated God the Son as the one he would never be willing to forgive.  That is, Jesus endured whatever it is to be eternally unforgiven by God.

God the Father unleashed on God the Son the burning anger and jealousy against “that man” who rebels against him.  Jesus endured whatever it is to experience the eternal fire of God’s anger and jealousy against sinners.

God the Father cursed God the Son (cf. Gal 3.13) as one whose name should be blotted out from history.  Jesus endured whatever it is to have one’s name removed as though he never existed.

God the Father singled out God the Son for adversity from all the tribes of Israel.  Jesus endured all the covenant curses as though he himself was the lawbreaker.  Not just a lawbreaker, but the sole lawbreaker who committed every single act of rebellion of those for whom he died.

Jesus didn’t endure the cross with a wink and nod to heaven.  When he cried out, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mk 15.34; cf. Ps 22.1) he did so as the man singled out for adversity from all the tribes of Israel.  His name was being blotted out as God’s public enemy #1.  He was forsaken by God and felt all the consequences of that hell.  Can we possibly fathom what sort of event must happen for there to be such a breach in the gloriously indissoluble Godhead?

All so that “we might become the righteousness of God in [Jesus]” (2 Cor 5.21b).  As much sin God the Father made God the Son, he has also made us the righteousness of God.  God didn’t shortchange his anger on Christ and he will no do so in the sharing of his righteousness.  God’s forgiveness is not because he’s grown soft on our sin.  It’s because he considered Jesus his debtor and exacted from him every penny we owed.  How much must God love someone for him to suffer the shame of his every own name (1 Jn 3.1)?

The cup of God’s bitter wrath Jesus drank is now served to us as the cup of  blessing (1 Cor 10.16).  Let us drink our fill because it, unlike the cup of his wrath, will never run out for us.

“For those nations, which you shall dispossess, listen to those who practice witchcraft and to diviners, but as for you, the LORD your God has not allowed you to do so.  The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your countrymen, you shall listen to him. . . . I will raise up a prophet from among their countrymen like you, and I will put My words in his mouth, and he shall speak to them all I command him” (Dt 18.14-15, 18).

There was one dominant feature that separated old covenant Israel from every other nation on the planet.  They were Yahweh’s people and their God actually spoke to them.  No other nation had such a revealing and accommodating god.

Sure, their gods looked lifelike.  They had hands and feet, eyes and mouths.  But their gods “have mouths,  but they do not speak; they have eyes, but they do not see” (Pss 115.5; 135.16).  Therefore, the pagan nations had to employ a variety of spiritists and diviners to interpret the will of their gods.  Of course, this only encouraged immorality as god-whisperers manipulated people for their own purposes.  Their “ministry” was about bending the gods to man’s will.

The mammoth stone and wooden gods looked strong.  Crystal balls, palm-readers and tarot cards would all look impressive.  They would lend themselves to immediate results masquerading as a word from the gods.  But, Israel must resist at all costs.  They serve and were cared for by the One, True and Living God.  And He speaks.  There would be no need to conjure him up with smoke, mirrors and sleight-of-hand.

Israel would have no need for a medium because God himself would provide his prophet.  This prophet would hear from God and then communicate to the people.  There would be no spooky incantations or two-bit psychics.

God sent many preparatory prophets who anticipated the Prophet to come.  The Prophet would be “like God” (Dt 18.15) and “like you” (Dt 18.18).  He would be the God-Man to speak God’s word to God’s people.  Of course, the One to bring God’s Word to us would be the Living Word of God for us who dwelt among us (Jn 1.1-5, 14).

On one occasion, Jesus gave the Three Musketeers (Peter, James and John) a sneak peek at the future of all things (Mt 17.1-8).  A scene of Sinaitic proportions, God thundered from heaven, “This is My beloved Son, with whom I am well-pleased; listen to Him!” (v5).  The prophet to whom God’s covenant people were to listen (Dt 18.15) has come.  He speaks for God and as God for the salvation of his people.  They have no reason to consult any other means for their salvation.

We have a far greater need than to know if we should take this or that flight, love this or that person, spend tonight here or there, or even hear from the dead.  We need to hear from God about our sin.  We need to hear there is hope for sinners who live rather confused and hypocritical and contradictory lives.  We need to hear that there is a remedy for the mess we’ve made of this world and our lives.  Besides, even if someone did speak to us from the “great beyond” would still not be convinced of our greatest need (Lk 16.31).  If we will not listen to the voice of the Creator of the Universe then in what universe do we think we’ll listen to a ghost?

All the words of God are contained in the Word of God, the Lord Jesus Christ (Heb 1.1).  He teaches us the will of God and supplies the means by which that will is accomplished.  Any desire to divine God’s will by any other means is to seek a treasure far too small.  If you are impressed by a daily horoscope, consider the Eternal God who has ordained every one of your days so you might enjoy Jesus (Ps 139.16).  We have no need to rub anyone’s belly, massage anyone’s hand or read anyone’s horoscope.  We don’t need a “reading,” but to be reading!  We need only read our Bibles, wherein God speaks through Christ for our everlasting joy (Jn 15.11).

“For the LORD your God is the God of gods and the Lord of lords, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God who does not show partiality nor take a bribe” (Dt 10.17).

Moses did his best to prepare his team for the big leagues.  No longer was Israel a runt nation and the world’s perennial homecoming opponent.  Israel was a force to be reckoned with and Canaan would know the brunt of it.  However, God wasn’t going to strengthen them because they deserved it, but because he made a promise to their great-whatever grandfathers (Dt 10.15).  God never breaks a promise.

But they weren’t invincible.

They would have to keep the pressure on or else they’d be lulled into easygoing idolatry.  If they weren’t careful they would start thinking Yahweh was like all the other lifeless gods they saw.  They would think they could worship Yahweh along with or just like the other nations did their gods.  Grease your gods palm and he makes things go well for you.  Fill his or her belly and he or she fills yours (see God’s tongue-in-cheek rebuke in Ps 50.12).  Drop some coin in the coffer and your god returns the favor.

Not Israel’s God.  He is “God of gods and the Lord of lords.”  Israel’s God (a.k.a. God Almighty, the One True and Living God, the Only God) owns “heaven and the highest heavens, the earth and all that is in it” (Dt 10.14).  In other words, what exactly do you get the God who owns everything?  What would you give a God who already owns what you’re offering?

No, Israel’s God “does not show partiality nor take a bribe” (Dt 10.17).

Now that we’ve said our “amen” let’s be honest about how we pray to the God of gods.  Do we not think God might well be persuaded by a bribe?  We assume God hears us more willingly when we bring spiritual capital to the table.  I’ve racked up some Bible-reading, logged in some kindness to my wife, registered some canned beans for the food drive and recorded some time at the clothes closet.  I withdraw all these deposits and bring the bounty to the Throne, whereby I intend to trade my hard-earned merits for some face-time with God.  Assurance of forgiveness follows a little back-scratching with God.

Of course, I’ll say I’m praying “in Jesus’ name” but with a wink-wink.  God knows the drill.  It’s quite silly when you think about it in light of the gospel.

The gospel of Jesus Christ transforms bribers into to worshipers.  You see, God is too holy and too gracious to be bribed.

Now what do we account more hateful or even execrable to God than the fiction of someone asking pardon for his sins, all the while thinking he is not a sinner or at least not thinking he is a sinner?  Unquestionably something in which God himself is mocked!  Yet . . . mankind is so stuffed with such depravity that for the sake of mere performance men often beseech God for many things that they are dead sure will, apart from his kindness, come to them from some other source, or already lie in their possession (Calvin, Institutes, III.XX.6).

Do we really think we come before God as anything other than sinners?  Do we really think we have something to offer God?  Do we really think God can be indentured? God needs nothing from us (Acts 17.24-25).  We need everything from him.  And there is not a universe full of worlds that could possibly raise one of his eyebrows because he already owns them!  God only hears righteous people and that eliminates us all.

The glory of the gospel is that God himself has provided the means by which he hears and blesses sinners like us.  We neither have or bring anything other than the name of Jesus Christ.  God only hears perfect people and Christ is God’s precious gift to us so that he will hear and save.

And by that I don’t mean the tagline “in Jesus’ name” at the end of prayer (or, if God tweeted, #inJesusname).  Even that has become a form of bribe for most of us.  We love turning biblical phrases into magic words.  “In Jesus’ name” is the “abracadabra” of prayer.  We assume it obliges God in a similar way that engraving “for God’s glory” on the stone of a gazillion-dollar entertainment complex obliges him to send the crowds.

Praying “in Jesus’ name” is to come before God with only and all of the righteousness of Christ.  We readily come before God knowing we should otherwise be obliterated for beseeching such a Holy God.  But because he is gracious to give us the protection (intercession) needed we can trust God because Jesus brings us to him (Jn 14.13; 1 Pt 3.18).  To pray to God is to do so knowing there is no other reason why he should hear or respond except that Jesus is our Advocate (1 Jn 2.2).

God is not waiting in heaven for us to bring him anything.  Jesus is in heaven having bought for us everything.  God doesn’t wait for the magic words or to see if we’re able to impress him before giving us a hearing.  God requires we come to him as broken down sinners with no hope other than the merits of Jesus Christ on their behalf.  In fact, it brings greater glory to God when great sinners come to him on the merits of our Great Savior.  God loves the exaltation of the Son.  And every time another sinner comes to him because the Son is their only hope then God is most assuredly pleased.

So let’s stop bribing God with our infinitesimal works and words.  Let’s go him boldly with the name of Christ and his bloody sacrifice in our hands (Heb 4.15-16).  We will find him more than willing and able to be our heart’s fullest joy.

“We have never been forbidden to laugh, or to be filled, or to join new possessions to old or ancestral ones, or to delight in musical harmony, or to drink wine.  True indeed.  But where there is plenty, to wallow in delights, to gorge oneself, to intoxicate mind and heart with present pleasures and be always panting after new ones–such are very far removed from a lawful use of God’s gifts” (Institutes, III.XIX.9).

In other words, when something you can do becomes something you must do then you’re no longer free.