What It Means to Follow Jesus (Luke 9:23–27) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

The Most Important Question Ever Asked (Luke 9:18–22) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

Somehow, and I have no idea how I got there, I ended up skimming an article this week from the British Telegraph on how many questions British kids ask their mothers. Or to use the article’s terminology, how many questions British kids ask their mum. The first line of this article read: “Research shows that mothers are the most quizzed in the UK.”[1] The study––and I am in no way asserting the veracity of this research––found that from breakfast time at 7:19 a.m. to tea time at 7:59 p.m., the average British mum faces over 300 questions, or one question every 2 minutes and 36 seconds. One of my favorite line from the article was this: “Interestingly, a huge 82 percent of infants apparently go to their mum first rather than their dad if they have a query.” The fact that that sentence used “interestingly” and “apparently” made clear to me that the author of this article has never actually met a kid.

Kids ask a lot of questions; and they’re usually great. This week, during the Sligers’ normal Monday evening eschatological forum, one of my children asked: “Will we hiccup in heaven?” Adults ask a good number of questions too. Your vocation probably consists of answering dozens a day. Your inbox is full of them. Your head might swim with the ones you ponder.

Jesus asked quite a few questions as well. One book, though I didn’t count, asserts that Jesus asked 307 questions in the Gospels.[2] I did read through about 100 of the key ones. Next week’s text includes one of the more important: For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself? (Lk 9:25) Another of the most important comes at the end of the Gospel of John, when Jesus asks Peter: Do you love me? (Jn 21:16) But after looking through that list of questions, I’m not sure there’s a question more pointed in the Gospels than the one in our text today: Who do you say that I am? (Lk 9:20)

After thousands of years of ten thousand questions being asked every day, I’d contend that the most pointed question Jesus asked is the most important question ever asked. Fittingly, we’ll study the text with three questions:

1. Who do the crowds say that He is?

After the miraculous feeding of the 5000, Luke continues the narrative in verse 18: Now it happened that as he was praying alone, the disciples were with him. If you recall, immediately after Jesus sent out the twelve disciples on mission, He attempted to withdraw to give the twelve a few moments of respite after their difficult journey (Lk 9:10). The crowds, however, foil that attempt and track them down. Then Jesus feeds the thousands, as Chris so carefully taught us about last week. It seems that after that miracle, Jesus finally manages to withdraw with his disciples for a moment of instruction. The setting is described a bit oddly, but it says that as Jesus prayed alone, the disciples were with him. Mark’s Gospel tells us this event happened in Caesarea Philippi.

He and the disciples appear to withdraw from the crowds; and then Jesus takes a few moments to withdraw even from the disciples so He might pray. At significant points in His ministry, this was His normal practice. You might think of Him praying before choosing the disciples, etc. Based on what He does after the “amen” in this text, we might assume He was praying for those disciples.[3]

Jesus ceases praying; and the text continues, v. 18, and He asked them, “Who do the crowds say that I am?”

It was clear earlier in chapter nine that the people of Israel were talking about Jesus. In fact, they were talking about Him so much that news of Him reached Herod in the palace. If you look back at Luke 9:7–9, Herod was perplexed about the identity of this man because, quoting Luke, it was said by some that John had been raised from the dead, by some that Elijah had appeared, and by others that one of the prophets of old had risen. Those were the thr[...]

Jesus Gives What We Can’t (Luke 9:12–17) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

The Mission of Jesus (Lk 9:1–11) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

In 1 Corinthians 4:16, the Apostle Paul writes to the church at Corinth, I urge you, therefore, be imitators of me. Now, if you wanted to be like someone, you’d observe them, see how they do this or that, note how they respond to a joke, an insult, or stress. You’d do that over and over, day after day, and eventually might be able to anticipate how they’d react to this or that situation. Then you’d do it yourself. You’d be imitating him or her.

Paul tells the church to be imitators of him. But what he says in the next verse is unexpected, I think. I urge you, therefore, be imitators of me. That is why I sent you Timothy.

Rather than himself, Paul sends someone else for them to watch. He sent someone who would be like Paul in front of them. In his mind, to send Timothy was to send Paul. I urge you, therefore, be imitators of me. That is why I sent you Timothy. Paul had multiplied himself and his influence.

This is discipleship. And who came up with that? We’ll see the answer to that question clearly here in Luke 9, where Jesus accomplishes His mission––to make Himself known––through His people. Or as we’ll take it, through His people––to make Himself known––Jesus accomplishes His mission.

1. Through His People

A. An Empowered People

Back in Luke 5, Jesus begins calling disciples to Himself, telling them, Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men (Lk 5:10). Then in Luke 6, He chose twelve of those disciples to be His apostles. But before and after those texts, the Gospel of Luke has spoken of these men mostly as bystanders. They, like us, have witnessed the teachings and works of another.

But if we were to look ahead to Luke’s sequel––the book of Acts––we’d find these men in the middle of the action. Our passage today functions as something of the beginning of that transition. While thus far Jesus has been demonstrating and teaching the nearness of the Kingdom almost exclusively, now the disciples will imitate Him for His purposes. He’s done it; now He’ll tell them to.

V. 1: And he called the twelve together and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases. It seems that at the close of last week’s passage, after the healing of Jairus’ daughter, all the disciples weren’t together. Here in verse 1, Jesus gathers them. And He gathers them for a purpose.

Since 8:22, Jesus has demonstrated His power over nature by calming the storm, over the evil realm by delivering the demoniac, over disease by healing the woman with the issue of blood, and over death by raising Jairus’ daughter. In each instance, Jesus displayed His power and authority.

Here in verse 1, He gives aspects of that power to His disciples.

I think it’s helpful to be reminded why Jesus demonstrated His power in these ways. Fortunately, He tells us in a couple chapters. If you’d like to turn over to Luke 11, I’ll just read one statement Jesus makes, 11:20: But if it is by the finger of God that I cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you.

So why did Jesus do this? Throughout Luke, Jesus’ power and authority have served as an object lesson. He preached and taught on the Kingdom of God while demonstrating in visible ways what that Kingdom looked like.

For the same reason, in this moment, He gives His disciples something of that power. It’s a derived authority and power, intending to point to the One who gave it. Jesus accomplishes His mission through empowered people.

B. A Sent People

And I think verse 2 actually confirms the assertion that those deeds function as previews of the Kingdom. After gathering them together to give them this power, Luke continues, v. 2, and He sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal.

As they went with this power and authority, they were teaching and proclaiming a particular subject: the Kingdom of God. There’s quite a bit we could say about the Kingdom of God, but Leon Morris defines the kingdom of[...]

Two Daughters (Luke 8:40–56) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

You don’t need power until you’re needy for it. I thought the other day, “Before this week, I don’t think I’ve ever wondered if people had an expertise in cave diving.” Yet the past few days many of us had that thought. And we were thankful for people who had the capability to do just that.

You don’t need that bank teller until those random charges show up on your bill. You don’t bother MLGW until the storm comes through your neighborhood. But when we’re needy, we seek the ones who might be able to meet that need.

In our text, we have at least two needy people. Both seek out power for their need.

Since 8:22, Jesus has demonstrated His power over nature by calming the storm and over the demonic. In today’s text He demonstrates it over disease and death. He shows us His power, who He is, to help us trust Him.

1. Jesus shows us His power over disease

V. 40: Now when Jesus returned, the crowd welcomed him, for they were all waiting for him. At this point in the Gospel, Jesus’ crowds are continuing to grow. Relatively soon His demands will thin them out. And then later the crowds will return with a different tune.

But at this point they’re flocking. Some came with selfish motives, of course, but others were desperate for Him. One such example arrives in verse 41: And there came a man named Jairus, who was a ruler of the synagogue. We don’t have to detail synagogue polity to know this was a man of considerable standing. But he won’t be standing when Jesus arrives. V. 42: And falling at Jesus’ feet, he implored him to come to his house, for he had an only daughter, about twelve years of age, and she was dying.

Luke, with his usual meticulousness, gives us details to help us empathize with Jairus. He wouldn’t have to say much to stir compassion, but he tells us the girl’s age. In Jewish culture during this era, a 12–year old girl would be preparing to enter the prime of her life. Further, Luke tells us that this is Jairus’ only daughter. His 12–year old girl, his only girl, is dying.

So when Jesus comes by, Jairus, caring nothing for decorum or the perception of dignity, falls at Jesus’ feet. Once there, he implores Jesus to come to his house. The verb tense suggests he asked more than once. Jesus can’t be in the street; he can’t be headed wherever he was going. To Jairus, nothing else matters. Jesus must come near.

And it seems that Jesus agreed to come. You might imagine Jairus’ joy. There’s a crowd here, scores pining for Jesus’ help, yet He decides to come visit Jairus’ dying daughter. V. 42 continues, As Jesus went, the people pressed around him.

On these narrow roads, it’s rush hour. You can imagine walking out of an event (graduation/game), being shoulder to shoulder with men and women. You might even stick your wallet in your front pocket. People press around you. The word for “press” here is interesting. It’s the same word Jesus used in the parable of the soils to describe the thorns choking the word.[1] It implies the crowd presses in to the degree that it’s difficult to breathe.[2]

Get in Jairus’ head for a second here. While you know the end of this story, he doesn’t. He’d finally got the man he believed could help him to come and see his sick daughter. Every second matters. But the crowds block the way.

And that’s not all that will slow Jesus’ arrival. Here comes another interruption. V. 43: And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and though she had spent all her living on physicians, she could not be healed by anyone.

There’s a 12 year old girl; and then there’s this woman with an ostracizing medical condition for 12 years. Keep in mind that this issue would’ve made her religiously unclean. While that might not land with the appropriate weight on you, consider that she couldn’t live among and with other people. Were anyone to touch her, he or she would become unclean themselves.[3] This woman is cut off from rela[...]

The Lamb Rules, Let’s Worship (Revelation 5) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

A phone call on Monday brought my family and me into a different sphere of life. The physician that had biopsied two spots a couple of weeks back, now told me that he had bad news. He said that I had mantle cell lymphoma, a rare type of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma that has no cure and that likely is in other places in my body. Due to its aggressiveness that he had already set up an appointment for me with an oncologist and that I could expect chemotherapy soon.

Fortunately, Karen was with me and listened to the doctor’s comments and asked questions along with me. We felt the shock together as we cried, breathed a prayer, and sought set our hearts on trying to rest in the Lord. I must say that the Lord met us at that time with comfort amidst the many unanswered questions in our thoughts. That didn’t mean our tears stopped or that we had no struggle explaining the diagnosis to our family. We’ve felt the heaviness of what lies ahead as we’ve worked through the process of seeing other doctors and aiming for treatment.

So, as I’ve pondered this week what I’m facing in the days ahead—and not alone but with my family and church family and a lot of good friends—I was put on a good path by Matt as I met Thursday with our elders, that he has continued to think on a part of 1 Corinthians 12:26: “And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it.” Whether it’s me with mantle cell lymphoma or you with another infirmity or incredibly hard burden or a troubling family issue or persecution at your job because of the gospel—whatever it is, we suffer together; we suffer hand-in-hand as brothers and sisters in Christ bearing one another’s burdens.

This is where Revelation 5 comes in. John wrote to suffering saints. In their case, persecution loomed among some and had already landed with others. They felt it. So what do we do as the body of Christ when suffering in its myriad ways comes? John has just the answer. When suffering comes let’s worship the King. And we can only do that if we get a good glimpse of the Lord whom we worship. Our text provides us with that kind of picture so that we’re encouraged to worship. I want us to walk through and observe what John describes, and let the Word serve to fuel our worship.

1. A book in the right hand on the throne

We’ve already seen a throne in chapter 4 with “One sitting on the throne” that totally eclipses human understanding or explanation. John can just give pictures of something brilliantly glorious and transcendent, served by representatives of the redeemed in all ages (4:2–4). The four living creatures around the throne cry out day and night, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God, the Almighty, who was and who is and who is to come” (4:8).

But then as we move to the next scene in this picturesque apocalyptic book, he returns to the throne. “I saw in the right hand of Him who sat on the throne a book written inside and on the back, sealed up with seven seals.” What’s in the book? With it written inside and outside, it means that nothing more can be added. It’s a book that contains the complete details of the unfolding of God’s plan of redemption, judgment, and His providential governing of His creation. The perfect passive verb, “written,” means that no detail is left out, and that the Lord God did the writing of every detail. It’s God’s purposes, plans, and rule pictured in this perfectly sealed book, with the seals authenticating it as authored by the Lord God.

Why is the book in the right hand? That’s the hand of authority. It implies His absolute rule since it’s the right hand of the One sitting on the exalted heavenly throne of the whole creation. He has the authority to execute every detail that He has planned.

Why does He sit on a throne? One simple reason: He rules and no one can contradict or usurp His rule. One may complain about God’s governance or shake his fist in anger at the way that G[...]

He Does Great Things (Luke 8:26–39) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

Jesus saves those we may think un-savable. Conjuring barriers too high for the grace of God to scale or too hard for the power of God to penetrate, we satisfy ourselves that some are just not saving material. When we do that, of course, we’re nudging toward works or behavior or lifestyle as prerequisite to the saving work of Christ. We’re also putting shackles on the reach of God’s grace and the power of the gospel. In all likelihood, we wouldn’t do that intentionally. But it may slip into our thoughts to the point that it cripples our prayer and witness.

We might unwittingly imbibe the mind of Charles Kingsley, an Anglican partner with Charles Darwin, who wrote of such people, they “Cannot take in the Gospel . . . All attempts to bring them to the knowledge of the true God have as yet failed utterly . . . Poor brutes in human shape . . . they must perish off the face of the earth like brute beasts” [cited 06/29/18, https://creation.com/charles-darwins-quisling-charles-kingsley].

Yet the history of Christian witness through the centuries teaches us otherwise.

John Patton, a Scottish missionary in the 19th century, served some remote, unevangelized islands north of New Zealand. He faced conditions unlike anything that we can fathom. Islanders walked naked, wildly shrieking and quarreling and killing, even offering women as sacrifices to bring their chieftan to health. Paton lived among these vicious, murderous cannibals in order to proclaim to them the good news of Christ [Owen Milton, Christian Missionaries, 135–144].

Early on in his work, he barely survived disease that took the life of his wife and son. He literally had to stay by their graves to keep the cannibals from digging up their bodies for their barbaric rituals and feasts. But the gospel broke through. Men who lived by the tip of the spear, who had no hesitation to kill for revenge or sport, and who dined on human flesh came to feel the weight of their sin. The Holy Spirit brought many of them to repentance and faith in Christ. He eventually reported thousands of former cannibals following after Christ.

But we don’t live among cannibals. Yet we may have no different attitude than that of Charles Kingsley when it comes to some in our community and families. We observe their flint-like hearts and wonder: are they savable?

Luke records the story of a man that most would think—‘No way! No way that this man will ever gain sanity and live in the life of joy found in Christ!’ But it happened. The story hammers home to us this truth: However hardened the heart, only Jesus delivers sinners from darkness. Do we believe in the power of Christ to save? Let’s think about it under four movements in this passage.

1. Darkness meets light

Anytime an unbeliever encounters Christ and the gospel, darkness meets light. Jesus is the True Light that “coming into the world, enlightens every man” (John 1:9). Jesus declared, “This is the judgment, that Light has come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the Light, for their deeds were evil. For everyone who does evil hates the Light, and does not come to the Light for fear that his deeds will be exposed” (John 3:19–20). The epitome of darkness lived among the tombs along the coast of the Sea of Galilee in the predominantly Gentile region of Gerasene.

Jesus displayed power when He calmed the wind and sea as they crossed the Galilee. But one note at the start helps us to see what His mission was in crossing the sea: “Let us go over to the other side of the lake” (9:22). He had a mission to bring Light to a man enslaved to darkness. Arriving at land, “He was met by a man from the city who was possessed with demons; and who had not put on any clothing for a long time, and was not living in a house, but in the tombs.” Further, the demons “had seized him many times; and he was bound with chains and shackles and kept under guard, and yet he would b[...]

He is Worthy: Gracious to Forgive (Luke 7:36–50) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

Quite naturally, we recoil at the suggestion that we’re desperate sinners that need forgiveness of our sins. We tend to think better of ourselves. A sin here and there, yes, we’ll admit that. Yet that’s not such a big deal, or so we think. At least we’re not like those who grovel in the depths of wicked behavior. We’re civil in thought and action. We act judiciously in what we do. Our speech, occasionally salty, has nothing of the coarseness so common among the masses.

With one excuse following another, we explain away the need for forgiveness. We gloss over our thoughts and desires. We glare at those leading contemptible lives. We wag our fingers at the wretches living in squalor and crime. We turn our nose at those despicable people that seem to have no self-control or show no restraint in pursuing their godless desires.

We can sound like the Duchess of Buckingham when she received an invitation from Lady Huntingdon, a faithful witness to the gospel, to join her in hearing George Whitefield, the 18th century Great Awakening preacher:

. . . It is monstrous to be told, that you have a heart as sinful as the common wretches that crawl on the earth. This is highly offensive and insulting; and I cannot but wonder that your Ladyship should relish any sentiments so much at variance with high rank and good breeding [Arnold Dallimore, George Whitefield, 1:132].

Yes, “high rank and good breeding” seems to be our identity and the rationale that we can give at the suggestion that our sin separates us from a holy God, and that we’re unacceptable before God apart from the righteousness of Christ. It’s difficult to admit that we need the forgiveness that only Jesus Christ can give.

But that’s not the case with the one forgiven by Christ. She has no qualms about admitting her unworthiness of Christ. He attempts no hiding and covering before the crushing weight of conviction of sin. He or she feels desperation: ‘I must know the forgiveness of Christ or I cannot go on.’ Such a person finds the forgiveness of sins to excite the mind and heart beyond measure. That person has come to agree with the psalmist, “But there is forgiveness with You, that You may be feared” (Ps 130:4). Forgiveness changes everything. The forgiven person lives and loves with Christ in view.

When Jesus forgives the forgiven loves. He loves in ways that he never knew possible. She loves with such intensity that she cares not what the world thinks. All that matters is lavishing love, worship, and praise upon Christ. Does that lavish love for Christ describe you? Let’s think about how the forgiveness of sins results in lavish love.

The Story

Luke shows us in the four narratives in chapter 7 about the worthiness of Jesus Christ. In the story of healing the centurion’s servant, we see His worthiness in matchless authority. When He raised the widow’s son at Nain, we see His worthiness in unrivaled power. In that lengthy narrative on John the Baptist as the one preparing the way for the Messiah, we see Jesus’ worthiness as the expected One. Now, with the story of the forgiven woman, we feel more personally the worthiness of Christ expressed by His graciousness to forgive. For in this story, we find the contrast between a notable religious figure in Capernaum that felt no need for forgiveness and a woman of the street who burst with love for Christ when knowing the forgiveness of sins.

Luke begins, “Now one of the Pharisees was requesting Him to dine with him, and He entered the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table.” Jesus had earlier dined with Levi the tax collector—an act mocked by the Pharisees (Luke 5:17–32). Now a curious Pharisee invites Jesus to dine with him. Such an occasion would not have been an intimate dinner party with a few guests in quiet conversations. Instead, with the house’s courtyard open, people from the community would have come to listen to the conversa[...]

From time to time, almost everyone experiences doubt. If you slow down long enough to think, you eventually land on this thought, “Is all this true?” Certainty evades you in certain seasons, especially if you’re living in ways that assume the Gospel is true. We wonder.

Acknowledging the reality of doubt is not to say doubting is something we just succumb to. James instructs us to pray without doubting (James 1). The father in Mark’s Gospel prays, “I believe; help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24).

So, how do we reconcile these two realities? We experience doubt; but we also ought to battle it. I hope our text in Luke 7 will help us. John will ask this question of Jesus: Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another? The forerunner of the Messiah wondered.

Jesus answers John’s doubts (and ours) by showing us His Person, His Kingdom, and our fickle hearts.[1]

The Person of Christ (v. 18–23)

Sometimes we doubt because our expectations are off. Pre–marital counseling should probably spend a good amount of time on managing and communicating expectations. Because when we expect someone to do this or that, if they don’t, we often doubt their character or their affection for us.

That’s what I think we’re going to see here with John the Baptist. If you’ve been here the past couple weeks, Jesus has healed the centurion’s servant and raised the widow’s son. That’s just the past couple texts; and just the events Luke included.

Jesus hasn’t wasted a second. He’s taught, healed, cast out demons, and ministered to multitudes. All the while, Luke’s guided us, giving us an authoritative interpretation of the events as they’ve unfolded.

But John the Baptist isn’t sitting on a padded seat hearing these events from the Gospel of Luke. Instead, he’s enchained in a prison. Back in Luke 3:20, the Gospel writer tells us that Herod imprisoned John. We know that John would never leave.

So, while sitting in prison, he’s hearing snippets of the things Jesus is doing. How do we know this? Verse 18: The disciples of John reported these things to him. These disciples, whether they were able to visit him, or were carefully sneaking in information, made sure he was updated.

It seems that at least one of these times, he received visitors. Verse 19, And John, calling two of his disciples to him, sent them to the Lord. John’s heard updates about Jesus, but now he wants to get a message back to Him. He has a question for His relative: Verse 19, saying, Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?

I distinctly remember preaching a text recently that you probably less distinctly remember where John the Baptist said to a crowd of people with questions about the identity of the Messiah, I baptize you with water, but he who is mightier than I is coming, the strap of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie (Luke 3:16).

John told that crowd that One after him was coming. Here he asks the one he spoke of, using the same word, Are you the one who is to come?

A few matters likely prompted this question. First, don’t forget the setting: John is imprisoned, awaiting a likely execution. If you doubt occasionally, imagine the pressures to wonder in these circumstances. Further, in shackles, he couldn’t see what Jesus was doing.

Consider also, unlike us, John didn’t have the privilege of reading the authoritative, inspired Gospel of Luke. The good doctor’s done the work for us in detailing Jesus’ teaching and works. However, John the Baptist is hearing rumors and probably some half–truths. Though his disciples brought him information, no doubt their messages were flawed to some degree.

Further, his expectations might’ve been skewed. Or the timetable rushed. Back in Luke 3, after asserting one mightier than I is coming, John preaches, His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor . . . the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire. John expected judgment; and maybe he expected it to look a certain way. Or come at a certain time.

The[...]

How is Your House Built? (Prov. 24:3–4) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

We’re rapidly approaching the most popular month for weddings in the USA, the month of June. Tennessee favors October, probably due to cooler weather and autumn foliage. But June weddings are still a close second in the state. Formal shops, floral designers, wedding planners, limos, reception venues, and caterers will put their best foot forward to dazzle the bride and groom while impressing the guests.

We’ll make our treks to these weddings, putting on our best attire, rushing around on the weekend to arrive in time, consuming mass quantities of reception food, standing until we’re ready to drop, and then getting home worn out. And we weren’t even members of the wedding party!

After all the vows exchanged, the “I do’s,” and lovely receptions, what then? The newly wed couple, living in a whirlwind leading up to the wedding, has scarcely a moment to think about the realities ahead. Now they face building their home. They will soon discover, a marriage license doth’ not a marriage make.

Realistically, some marriages never make. Others flounder for years without the kind of joy that should characterize their union as a reflection of Christ and the Church (Ephesians 5:15–33). Some tolerate each other, focus on their kids and careers, but never quite get around to building a healthy, joy-saturated home. They have a nice house, good jobs, respectable kids, but their home never seems to find its stride.

So, what do we do? Many grab onto cookie-cutter outlines for ten ways to have a happy home. They attempt to force their unique personalities and God-designed lives into someone else’s idea of what a Christian’s home should look like. Usually, out of the legalistic morass of stuffing round pegs into square holes, they get frustrated and give up. But they started in the wrong place. It’s not that some of the steps to a happy home they’ve read and heard at seminars aren’t useful to some degree. It’s rather that they fail to enjoy the unique way that God has designed them to image His creativity and glory in the home.

That’s where this little text in Proverbs offers guidance. Whether married or single, we need homes that reflect God’s glory and give us joy. This passage speaks to all of us as contributors to our homes. Here we discover that the Lord gives the materials to build our homes for His glory and our joy. But what does that look like? Let’s delve into this proverbial guidance for the home.

If you’re building a house you must have the right kind of materials to get started. You wouldn’t find a couple of pallets of Play-Doh and boxes of tinker toys at the job site. It takes the materials conducive to constructing a home for it to be built to live in.

In the same way, Solomon points us to the materials that God provides for building our homes. They may appear quite odd, at first, but as we think about them more closely, then we start to see them as essential for building a home. Wisdom, understanding, and knowledge, the wisdom writer states, are the essential materials for building homes that taste and experience God’s glory and joy. Since those terms can be construed as abstract concepts, let’s give them three words that encompass their intention: revelation, application, and continuation. That’s how we’ll probe them.

This is not the first rodeo for these terms in Proverbs. The antithesis of the trio is found in Proverbs 1:8–19, with the one forsaking wisdom heeding the voice of recklessness that calls for a destructive approach to life. It takes the shortcut to success by running over and ruining others. It centers on forsaking the way of wisdom, pursuing a course of selfish, greedy living, and running to evil as the means to fullness of life.

A little later, in his aim to lead us toward the life of wisdom that lives in the revelation of God, the writer gives us the perfect model for building our homes. “The Lord by wisdom founded the earth, by[...]