From the Pulpit

The Bible is filled with contrast. Good and evil, light and darkness, joy and sorrow, hope and fear. In many cases, we’re better able to understand just how great something is when it’s compared and contrasted with something that is not very great. If I showed you a twig and a log, it would be immediately obvious which one is bigger, and heavier. But if I held up two twigs that are only slightly different in length and thickness, it might take some time or a closer inspection to figure out the difference.

In the case of the Bible, most of the contrast is noticeable on purpose. That’s kind of the point. It’s included to show just how great the log is in comparison to the twig. And that’s exactly what we’re going to see today as we turn to Psalm 115. We’re going to see a mighty, powerful, strong God contrasted with weak, flimsy, useless idols made by human hands. And as we do so, we’re going to see the futility of so many of the things that fight for our attention and worship, in comparison with the incredible God who deserves it all.

Sometimes, there is suffering in our lives that’s more like a stomach flu: we don’t really know why it’s happening, but it feels terrible. Just when we think it’s done, we get hit again. And while others can comfort us and we can treat the symptoms as much as possible, we know that ultimately we just need to wait it out. But other times, suffering has a cause; we’ve done something unwise or irresponsible, and brought a pain upon ourselves that won’t be stopped until we get that source of corruption out of us.

Today we're going to look at Psalm 32, which is an interesting psalm, a mixed bag of genres, including aspects of praise, wisdom, and thanksgiving. And we’re going to be reminded about the character of the God we serve, and how gracious he truly is, despite our foolishness. As we read through the text today, we’re going to see three principles or realities about our relationship with God, each followed by an example of how that reality can or ought to be demonstrated in life.

It has been observed that “the subject of biblical prophecy is like one magnet interacting with another. For many people, it pulls them in. For others, it drives them away.” Indeed, some are drawn to prophecy. Wanting to know about the future they enjoy thinking, discussing, and reading about things to come and, perhaps, how current events fit in to God’s revelation. Others are repelled by prophecy, viewing it as a futile topic that divides, confuses, and scares.

Surely both groups are represented within most church families, along with those who are apathetic, ignorant, or uninterested. But regardless of individual experiences with and feelings toward what the Bible says about end times, all would do well to understand that Jesus considered it important and edifying. So much so that, during the days leading up to his death, the Lord gave his disciples a peak beyond the horizon. And looking with them, believers today can be reminded of what prophecy is supposed to bring: clarity, comfort, and conviction.

Matthew has recounted Jesus’s final entrance into Jerusalem (20:29–21:17), the unrelenting opposition he faced upon arrival (21:18–22:14), and, now, his rebuke of the faithlessness of the nation’s leadership (23:1–39). To state it another way, the King was formally presented to Israel, formally rejected by Israel, and is now formally rejecting Israel in response. And of all the legitimate reasons the Lord had to condemn that generation of his people, it is their hypocrisy that he highlights. It is their hollow religiosity and resolute sanctimony that Jesus can no longer abide. Why? Because hypocrisy is a poison, as deadly as it is sneaky and as pernicious as it is persistent. But if God’s people can learn to identify its characteristics, its symptoms, and its seriousness, catching exposure early, they can treat it effectively with the antidote of humility.

There are few more offensive concepts to the sensibilities of our contemporary culture than that of submission—the act of knowingly, willingly, intentionally, and repeatedly placing ourselves, our wills, and our preferences under the authority of another. It is considered a distasteful mark of powerlessness, hopelessness, shamefulness, and oppression. Success, according to many, means having others answer to you. True liberty is found in the freedom from ever having to bow to anyone. Truth is something created, not something objective to which we must yield. Ultimately, submission is something to be avoided and condemned.

But the Bible teaches that it is actually through submission that God promises prosperity, liberty, joy, truth, and life. It’s actually when we lay ourselves down that we get to pick it all up. This apparent paradox is what many in the 21st-century fail to understand and, as we’ll see, what many in the 1st-century didn’t understand either.

It’s wise to learn from others’ errors. A child, seeing their sibling punished, can learn obedience. A student, observing a peer caught cheating, can learn integrity. An athlete, watching a teammate fail, can learn of strategy. Whether in business, dating, gaming, or home renovations, it’s wise to learn from others’ errors (see, for example, 1 Cor 10:1–11; 1 Tim 5:20). That that’s what we re going to do this morning.

As we draw nearer to Matthew’s account of Jesus’s death, the abject failures of Israel become increasingly obvious and official. While the King has been formally presented to his subjects (20:29–21:17), he is now formally rejected by his subjects (21:18–22:46). And, with the help of the Holy Spirit, we are going to learn from their mistake, avoid the consequences that come with such a misstep and, instead, be propelled forward in our personal and corporate pursuits of God-pleasing and God-glorifying maturity.

If you follow the church calendar a bit, you may have noticed that last Thursday was a memorable day. In some countries it is actually a holiday where we commemorate the Ascension of the Lord into Heaven. Now, in between Easter and Pentecost (not to mention Christmas), Ascension day may not make it into your top three Christian holidays. And so I wanted to talk about this event using three questions: 1) What happened? 2) How can we be sure that it happened? And 3) What is the significance for us?

It is not uncommon to look forward to something for a long time only to be a tad underwhelmed, unfulfilled, or disappointed at its eventual realization. Whether a particular milestone or accomplishment, a unique experience or possession, the goal has been anticipated, daydreamed about, planned for, and worked toward. And yet, when the longing gives way to reality—the milestone reached, the accomplishment grasped, the experience felt, or the possession owned—it’s not all that had been expected. It is wonderful but, at the same time, it seems that something’s missing. Something about the experience does not quite match what was envisioned.

In a way, this was what faced national Israel when their Messiah finally marched into Jerusalem, his would-be capital city, and was presented to them as their long-awaited King. It was exciting and cathartic, celebratory and worshipful. And yet, at the time, something was missing. Something didn’t quite match that which they had come to anticipate and expect.

The God of the universe calls and invites all people to obey him, to fellowship with him, and to serve him and, like a wise parent, he motivates his children in a variety of ways. Sometimes God motivates with fear (e.g., Rev 2:16). The reality of hell is terrifying and, rightly understood, is hugely incentivizing to trust in the One who can save us from it. Other times, God motivates with love (e.g., John 14:15). As we grow in an understanding of all God has done, is doing, and will do for us we are propelled by gratitude toward allegiance, commitment, and submission. There are also times God motivates with rewards (e.g., Rev 2:10, 26; 3:21). These are perks and accolades that go beyond everlasting life and, just like fear and love, can be very motivating. No doubt, that’s why God uses them to spur his people on toward faithfulness.

Jesus’s first century disciples needed some clarification on the topic of future rewards and the Holy Spirit saw fit to record and preserve this lesson for Jesus’s twenty-first century disciples as well.

Today I want to talk about Romans chapter 8. Romans 8 is one of the greatest chapters in the Bible, great because it is full of blessings for the believer, blessings that we are only beginning to appreciate as we walk with the lord. This blessed chapter follows chapter 7, one of the most troubling chapters for Christians because Romans 7 documents the great struggle we have with our sinful ways.

Romans 8 is a beautiful description of the victorious Christian life. It is bounded front and back by two amazing promises from God for those in Christ. All that self-condemnation in Romans 7 is replaced with this grand assurance, no condemnation. Then, at the end of the chapter, from verse 31 to the end he adds a second great promise, no separation from God’s love in Christ. The very best thing that could ever happen to me has happened and will continue to happen forever!