The other day a friend shared with me a post that Thomas wrote in 2011 for Banner of Truth. In it, he drew from his considerable experience and shared what his greatest regrets have been in his half-century as a minister. He listed eight in all, and they were all convicting for this minister.
That said, the last one stood out above the rest. What a passionate, familiar, heart-felt expression of both regret and glorious gospel truth there is in these words:
I am sorry that my love for Jesus Christ is cool and shallow.
‘Weak is the effort of my heart and cold my warmest thought.’ It was
true for Newton and it is true for us today. Sometimes I think, ‘Do I
love him at all?’ Where is the affection, the glow, the delight and
anticipation of meeting with him? M’Cheyne wrote in his diary, ‘Rose
early to meet him whom my soul loves. Who would not rise early to meet
such company?’ I wish that that reflected my own heart’s longing for the
Saviour. I wish I could give myself to him anew each Sunday, thinking,
‘I am going to go where the Lord Jesus is.’ When I have nothing else to
think about I wish my mind naturally gravitated to him. Here is someone
who laid down his life for me. This is the one who delivered me from
hell. Behold my Saviour who is taking me to glory for ever. Here is my
beloved and here is my friend who is working all things together for my
good. This dear Lord of mine is going to do an eternal makeover on my
whole life. The Lord Jesus is my personal teacher and personal trainer
and personal counsellor and personal bodyguard. He can protect me from
the biggest devil in hell. Christ is so fascinating a personality, wise,
caring, fresh, creative, stimulating, patient and so kind to me. It is
my chief complaint, that my love is weak and faint. I who encourage
others to love him am amazed that I can love him so little, but what is
more amazing is the fact that I love him at all.
If my wife were to tell me that she doesn't feel loved by me, my response ought not to be to share anecdotal and empirical evidence with her, excusing my actions and thereby disproving the validity of her perception. To even attempt to do this is to actually verify that her perception, as it turns out, was accurate. Rather, my duty in such a situation is to listen to her concerns and work my hardest from this point forward to demonstrate my love to her in such a way that she might indeed know that it is real.
When my African American brothers and sisters (who I claim to love) tell me that they feel marginalized, oppressed, devalued and threatened by the larger culture of which I am a part, in the same way, it ought not to be my response to share anecdotal and empirical evidence with them, excusing our actions and thereby disproving the validity of their perception. Rather, my duty in such a situation is to listen to their concerns and work my hardest from this point forward to demonstrate my love to them in such a way that they might indeed know that it is real.
"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God." (Matthew 5:9)
With the confluence of the Advent season and mass shootings occurring at (what should be) alarming rates, I am reminded of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem, "Christmas Bells." It was penned during a time of great personal pain for Longfellow. As the Civil War raged, Longfellow lamented the loss of his wife to a terrible accident and the near-fatal injuries his son had sustained in battle. He described the dissonance within his own heart at hearing Christmas bells wring out, "Peace on earth, good-will to men!" while his own experiences demonstrated anything but.
And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"
But even as Longfellow's circumstances truly were terrible, they would not get the final word. Instead, he turned his attention to what he knew to be true about the loving God who superintends those circumstances:
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men."
This Christmas season, may the bells (and all the other trappings) of Christmas remind us that just as Jesus came once, he is coming again. And when he does, he will set all things to rights, for it is his heart that there should be "peace on earth, good-will toward men." In a world filled with so much Wrong, I can think of no greater encouragement than the knowledge that the Right will indeed prevail!
But let's take it a step further, shall we? For if this idea of "peace on earth, good-will to men" is important to Jesus, then it should also be important to those of us who are his followers. Therefore, let us take tangible steps to promote peace, to demonstrate good-will:
Love your neighbor, even when they're not very lovely
Forgive those who have wronged you, even though they don't deserve it
Seek reconciliation with those with whom you are at odds
Focus less on how we've been wronged (be it as individuals or as a group) and spend more time prayerfully considering where we might have been wronged by others
Humbly seek forgiveness from others regardless of whether they're willing to admit the wrong that they've done
Pray (really pray) for those who are your enemies
Show
respect to everyone, as those who bear the image of God, even if you disagree
vehemently with them on the most fundamental and important of issues
In doing these types of things, we will truly be followers of Christ, those who are about "peace on earth, good-will to men."
The majority of the Book of Job deals with his (and others') reactions to the suffering which he faces. As a result, that tends to be what we focus on when we read Job. I noticed something else today though, something that comes before his suffering.
In the days before tragedy had befallen his family, Job would routinely hold feasts for his children. We are told in Job 1:5, "And when the days of the feast had run their course, Job would send and consecrate them, and he would rise early in the morning and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all. For Job said, 'It may be that my children have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.' Thus Job did continually."
Job's concern for the spiritual welfare of his children is certainly commendable. But ultimately I do not think we are meant to consider Job's loving sacrifices merely on their own terms. Rather, ought they not point us to another Father who, concerned for the spiritual well-being of his children, sacrificed for them at the greatest of cost to Himself?
Glory be to the God whose sacrificial love for His children knows no bounds!
As I sat watching this with tears in my eyes, I was overcome by two facts:
By his blood, Christ Jesus has "ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation," (Revelation 5:9) that we might together become one family.
When God chose us to be his adoptive children, he did so not because
of anything that was (or wasn't) in us, but because of his great mercy
and our great need.
Please take six minutes and watch this powerful video.
This Sunday I preached from 1 Corinthians 11:17-34 on "Discerning the Body." The following is a brief excerpt from my sermon:
On the night when Jesus was betrayed--literally, on the night “he was being betrayed”--even in the midst of being betrayed, Jesus instituted the Lord's Supper. And it calls our attention to what the Gospels say about that night. What else did Jesus do on that night...in that room...with his disciples? He took a towel and put it around his waist and then he got down on his knees with a basin of water and he washed his disciples' feet, each and every one of them.
He washed the feet of Thomas, who would doubt his resurrection.
He washed the feet of Peter, who would three times would deny him.
He even washed the feet of Judas, who would betray him.
That is the example of our Lord; that is the kind of love he showed us. And it is the kind of love we are required to show one another.
And after washing their feet he issued to them a command…“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." (John 13:34-35)
This should always be the case; we should always have love for one another, but especially when we come to the Lord's table, it is necessary that we have love for one another.
Click here to listen to this week's entire sermon as well as past sermons I've preached.
Today I came across this helpful reminder from John Owen in The Glory of Christ:
I would urge you to prepare your minds continually for heavenly things by meditating seriously on the glory of the love of Christ. This cannot be done if the mind is always full of earthly thoughts. Do not be satisfied with general thoughts of the love of Christ but think of it in a more detailed way.
Consider whose love it is: the love of the Son of God who is also the Son of Man. As he is unique, so his love must be unique.
Think of the wisdom, goodness and grace shown in the eternal acts of his divine nature and of the pity an love of his human nature in all that he did and suffered for us (see Ephesians 3:19; Hebrews 2:14, 15; Revelation 1:5).
We deserved hatred, but, "in this is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins" (John 4:10).
What power this love has in its effect on our lives, enabling us to bear fruit to his glory.
"When we have the opportunity to talk to the non-Christian, what (if not the formula mentality) should be the dominant consideration? I think this should be love. I think these things turn on love and compassion to people not as objects to evangelize, but as people who deserve all the love and consideration we can give them, because they are our kind and made in the image of God. They are valuable, so we should meet them in love and compassion. Thus, we meet the person where he or she is."
At Valentine's Day, I've noticed a number of bloggers have turned their attention to the Song of Solomon. I suppose this is to be expected. Whatever exactly this book of the Bible talks about, it clearly does so using terms of romantic love.
Throughout history, Christians have had many reactions to the Song. One is to completely ignore it out of discomfort with the subject matter. It goes without saying that with any part of Scripture, this is an unacceptable attitude.
For those who do look to the Song, there are various ways it has been interpreted. Some within the Church have allegorized it, contending that it is solely about God and his relationship with the church, and it has nothing to say about romantic love between individuals.Yet another way that some have dealt with it is by turning it into nothing more than a marriage manual, neglecting altogether what it might have to say to us about God, and specifically Jesus Christ. To apply either of these approaches, in my opinion, is to fall terribly short of understanding what God is telling us in this book.
A couple years ago at the Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary Conference, Dr. Iain Campbell preached what was not only the best sermon I've ever heard on the Song, but was (especially in its second half) one of my favorite sermons ever on any text. Click on the player below to listen to it.
I saw this video from Sara Groves tonight when Scotty Smith posted it and found the song so beautiful that I knew I needed to share it too. What a great promise it is that Christians find in Romans 8:38-39,
For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
"When I have learned to love God better than my earthly dearest, I shall love my earthly dearest better than I do now. In so far as I learn to love my earthly dearest at the expense of God and instead of God, I shall be moving towards that stage in which I shall not love my earthly dearest at all. When first things are put first, second things are not suppressed but increased."
Saw a great interview with Tim Keller on MSNBC as he was publicizing his new book, King's Cross: The Story of the World in the Life of Jesus. In my estimation, Keller is one of the sharpest pastors in the Church today, and does as good a job as anyone of living out both ends of Paul's injunction in Ephesians 4:15 to "speak the truth in love." I very much look forward to reading King's Cross.
"What binds us together is not common education, common race, common income levels, common politics, common nationality, common accents, common jobs, or anything else of that sort. Christians come together because they have all been loved by Jesus himself. They are a band of natural enemies who love one another for Jesus’ sake"
Well, today is my fifteenth wedding anniversary. I am thankful to God for having so greatly blessed me, and today I find myself quite predictably thinking a lot about marriage.
Fifteen years in, has marriage been what I expected? In one sense, yes. I had a pretty good idea what it would be like because Erin and I already knew each other so well. We had dated since high school, so we had already overcome some of the hurdles that newlyweds less familiar with each other often face.
That being said, the fact that we knew each other so well coupled with the fact that (like most people right out of college) I thought I knew far more about everything than I actually did, presented peculiar difficulties. We were typical of most couples getting married, thinking our life together would be perfect. And even though we knew it wasn’t that way for many (most/any) folks, we were confident that we would be the exception.
So have these fifteen years been perfect? Honestly, no. Like any couple outside of the storybooks, in addition to the many fantastic ups, we’ve also had our downs. Most of these have resulted from a single factor: I’m a part of this marriage.
But from my perspective, and I am fairly confident Erin would tell you the same, our marriage has been wonderful. At times it has been difficult, but marriage has been the vehicle of God’s great blessing to me. Through it I have grown both emotionally and spiritually. I have been blessed with two amazing children who have the most loving and devoted mother I could ever want for them. Year by year I’ve grown closer to my best friend in the entire world.
And I have learned a lot about love.
Usually when we talk about love we are referring to a romantic feeling in the heart, a feeling that causes our knees to go weak and the butterflies to flutter in the pit of our stomach. Or perhaps what we mean is simply that when I am with that person they make me so happy. Maybe it’s just the sense someone gives us that, as Jerry Maguire put it, “You...complete...me.”
These are decidedly not what I am talking about when I say that I’ve learned a lot about love. Oh yes. They are all present too. And that’s another area in which I am enormously blessed by God. But when I say I’ve learned a lot about love, what I mean is that I’ve learned about true love, the kind of love that Christ has for his bride (the Church). And in seeing this love, I’ve also learned how very far short I fall of his example.
Bryan Chapell writes in Each for the Other, "God loves us as a consequence of the relationship he has established with us, not because of any beauty we possess or any service we could offer. Nothing better communicates this grace than unconditional love. A husband who cherishes his wife to honor the divine covenant that binds them, rather than any good she does for him, honors both his God and his wife."
This is the kind of love that I have tried to have for my wife (though I regularly fail). Love that is neither dependent on what she can do for me, nor on how I feel about her at any given moment. Rather it is love that is dependent on the commitment I made to her fifteen years ago today. A commitment to honor her and to cherish her. And yes, a commitment to love her.
Quite frankly, it’s something my wife has probably done a better job of than I have. Of course, it’s not really a fair comparison; there’s a lot more beauty in her to love than there is in me. If she’s going to love me, it can’t be for anything I possess! But in loving me in spite of all the messiness I bring to the party, she has shown me how to love her.
You see, I find her more attractive in every way than I did on the day we married. She is more beautiful in character, in spirit and in appearance. She still simultaneously makes my heart melt and race. But when I say I love her, I’m not talking about how I feel. I’m talking about a commitment to her well-being. A commitment to be a blessing to her. A commitment that I am honored to have the opportunity to keep.
I do this because Christ made a commitment to his bride, a commitment to be about her well-being. A commitment to be a blessing to her. A commitment that he was honored to keep. And in so keeping that commitment, he makes his bride lovely.
Make no mistake. I find my lovely bride to be completely worthy of my love (and far more for that matter). But that is not why I love her. I love her because Christ loved his bride even though she was completely unworthy.
A couple months ago Andrew Peterson released an album entitled Counting Stars. When he did, I posted this entry which included the video below to the song Dancing in the Minefields. Given the nature of the date today and the beauty of the truths contained in the song, I figured it was worth posting again.
Listen. Enjoy. And I pray that you might personally know the joy spoken of in this song, the joy that I’ve been so blessed to know for these fifteen years.
Another beautiful point, beautifully made from Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead (p. 136):
"...your mother could not love you more or take greater pride in you. She has watched every moment of your life, almost, and she loves you as God does, to the marrow of your bones. So that is the honoring of a child. You see how it is godlike to love the being of someone. Your existence is a delight to us. I hope you never have to long for a child as I did, but oh, what a splendid thing it has been that you came finally, and what a blessing to enjoy you now for almost seven years."
I suppose only a parent can truly understand this kind of love, or at least its depth. I thought I understood it before I had children, but I did not. Regardless, the point is that it is indeed a reflection of godlike love when, as parents, we love the very existence of our children.
This kind of love is illustrated in a conversation that I’ve had countless times with my children. It goes like this:
Me: “Do you know how much I love you?”
Child: “A million times a billion.” (Truth be told, I love them even more than that, but let’s not quibble over numbers.)
Me: “And do you know why I love you?”
Child: “Because I am your child.”
Me: “How long will you be my child?”
Child: “Forever.”
Me: “So how long will I love you?
Child: “Forever.”
Me: “What if you behave really badly and I get angry?”
Child: “Forever.”
Me: “What if you say or do really mean things to me?”
Child: “Forever.”
Me: “What if you don’t even like me any more?”
Child: “Forever.”
Me: “So how long will I love you?”
Child: “Forever.”
Me: “That’s right. No matter what, you’ll always be my child, so I will always love you. Forever.”
What I am trying to do in this conversation is twofold. Obviously, I am trying to instill in my children a confidence in the steadfastness of my love for them. They can be confident that no matter what, they will not lose the love of their father.
Secondly though, I am trying to model to them the love of God. I am setting before them a pattern of godly love so that they might know that the love of their heavenly father (like the love of their earthly father) is not conditioned upon what they do.
This is the very core of the gospel. God loves us not because we have somehow earned his love, but because, by his grace, he has adopted us in Christ Jesus to be his children. As such we can be confident in his steadfast love, because it is not on account of anything we do, but rather only and always because of what Christ has done.
This past Friday, former UCLA basketball coach John Wooden passed away. Coach Wooden was considered by many to be the greatest coach in the the history of sports. No detail escaped his attention. The story goes that the first day of practice, he would teach players how to properly put on their socks (so as to avoid blisters).
In these days of ever decreasing fidelity to commitments, what made Coach Wooden such a compelling figure was not just his ten national championships, but the fact that he was such a great example of loyalty, commitment, love and faithfulness.
Watch this story done earlier this year by ESPN’s Rick Reilly:
“We feed our children in order that they may soon be able to feed themselves; we teach them in order that they may soon not need our teaching. Thus a heavy task is laid upon this Gift-love. It must work towards its own abdication. We must aim at making ourselves superfluous.”
“By having a great many friends I do not prove that I have a wide appreciation of human excellence. You might as well say I prove the width of my literary taste by being able to enjoy all the books in my own study…The truly wide taste in humanity will similarly find something to appreciate in the cross-section of humanity whom one has to meet every day. In my experience it is Affection that creates this taste, teaching us first to notice, then to endure, then to smile at, then to enjoy, and finally to appreciate, the people who ‘happen to be there.’”
“The moment when one first says, really meaning it, that though he is not ‘my sort of man’ he is a very good man ‘in his own way’ is one of liberation.”
“Lamb says somewhere that if, of three friends (A, B, and C), A should die, then B loses not only A but ‘A’s part in C,’ while C loses not only A but ‘A’s part in B.’ In each of my friends there is something that only some other friend can fully bring out. By myself I am not large enough to call the whole man into activity; I want other lights than my own to show all his facets. Now that Charles is dead, I shall never again see Ronald’s reaction to a specifically Caroline joke. Far from having more of Ronald, having him ‘to myself’ now that Charles is away, I have less of Ronald. Hence true Friendship is the least jealous of loves.”
"For it is the very mark of Eros that when he is in us we had rather share unhappiness with the Beloved than be happy on any other terms…Eros never hesitates to say, ‘Better this than parting. Better to be miserable with her than happy without her. Let our hearts break provided they break together.’ If the voice within us does not say this, it is not the voice of Eros.”
“The event of falling in love is of such a nature that we are right to reject as intolerable the idea that it should be transitory. In one high bound it has overleaped the massive wall of our selfhood; it has made appetite itself altruistic, tossed personal happiness aside as a triviality and planted the interests of another in the centre of our being. Spontaneously and without effort we have fulfilled the law (towards one person) by loving our neighbor as ourselves. It is an image, a foretaste, of what we must become to all if Love Himself rules in us without a rival. It is even (well used) a preparation for that. Simply to relapse from it, merely to ‘fall our of’ love again, is – if I may coin the ugly word – a sort of disredemption. Eros is driven to promise what Eros of himself cannot perform.”
“Of all arguments against love none make so strong an appeal to my nature as ‘Careful! This might lead you to suffereing…To my nature, my temperament, yes. Not to my conscience. When I respond to that appeal I seem to myself to be a thousnad miles away from Chrsit. If I am sure of anything I am sure that His teaching was never meant to confirm my congenital preference for safe investments and limited liabilities. I doubt whetere there is anything in me that pleases Him less.”
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken…The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.”
I was introduced to Geoff Thomas some years back at the Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary Conference that I attend each August. Thomas is a Welsh pastor who has served the congregation of Alfred Place Baptist Church for over fifty years.
. In my estimation, Keller is one of the sharpest pastors in the Church today, and does as good a job as anyone of living out both ends of Paul's injunction in 
