the Vine with Chris Green

When we are stewards who put our God’s gifts to work generously, a whole world of true blessing is opened up to us.

My friends, my prayer for your life, my prayer for this church family, is that we would abound more and more in the kind of stewardship that sets us free, that blesses God, that blesses our neighbors, and that bears “fruit that remains”. That our stewardship will mean that our family and friends and neighbors and strangers encounter the life-changing, love of God.

Our sovereignty is limited but there is One who claims absolute sovereignty over all things. The sovereignty he claims is of the purest form because he created all things. He alone has the authority over all that has been made.

Abraham Kuyper (one of my heroes from Dutch history) said it most poignantly,

Now there are some who upon hearing that cosmic claim of “Mine” feel like little Susie or Jimmy who just got their toy snatched from their hand. “Wait,” they say, “It’s mine! I have the right to claim my life as my own. We, the human race, are surely sovereign over our lives, our possessions, our world"

But to those with eyes to see and ears to hear, we are overjoyed to hear Christ’s claim of “mine” ringing throughout every square inch of the cosmos. We see in it something worthy of our awe and our worship; something worthy of our work, our vocations, our service in society, our love for our neighbor; something worthy of our intentionality at home, of becoming great husbands and great wives, of becoming great parents; something worthy of our generosity, of the giving of ourselves, our time, our abilities, our resources. 

The foundation of the covenant has been made. It isn’t in Israel’s worthiness, it is in God’s mercy.

‌What does mercy look like?

‌When mercy comes it looks like the blessing of God

You can cooperate with grace.

‌You see the same things everyone else does. You see that God has a purpose. You see that He has the authority to accomplish that purpose but instead of responding in fear, you respond in humility. We find this man in Mark 5, not running from Jesus, but sitting with him, not begging him to leave but begging to go with him wherever he goes, not resisting his will but trusting and doing whatever he says. This is what it means to cooperate with grace. 

And this is the time of mercy! Oh how we hold on to so much because we don’t know what kind of God He is and what time it is. If we knew, we would ask. We wouldn’t carry around our needs as if asking Him was some kind of burden or inconvenience to Him. We wouldn’t avoid asking Him because deep in our hearts we don’t feel we deserve it or that others need it more. We don’t ask because we don’t understand who He is. You cannot ask more than what He is able to give. When God gives to you, it does not mean he can’t give that same thing to others. How many loaves and fish were there? How many ate that day? If we know Him, we will ask Him.

That Jesus announced that he had come to bring the "year of Jubilee" is not some obscure, biblical trivia. It means:

Nazareth. Jesus’ hometown southwest of the Sea of Galilee. A little town where nothing good can come from. Nazareth: where skepticism is strong, doubt is good-looking, and the level of condescension is above average. Would you ever want to be in a place like that?

‌What if I said to you that you and I go there more often then you think?

If we are to grow, we have to acknowledge the presence of our skepticism, our doubt and, in some cases, our condescension towards the things of God. I’m not talking about pretending like we don’t have questions or like we have everything figured out. We all have questions. None of us have arrived at the end of our journey of faith.

I’m talking about heart position that accepts at its foundation that Jesus couldn’t possibly be who he said he is, God couldn’t possibly do the things the scriptures say He does, and faith has no other goal than my own personal comfort and inspiration.

None of us have arrived at the end of our journey of faith. But if Nazareth is a place where skepticism is strong, doubt is good-looking, and the level of condescension is above average, We have to leave Nazareth behind if we’re going to follow Jesus into a growing life of faith.

Immanuel, this prophetic name meaning “God with us”, was shot like an arrow through the mouth of Isaiah, flying through the centuries, finally finding its mark, its full resting place in Jesus Christ. What does this mean? That Jesus is the proof. Jesus is the sign. Jesus himself is “God with us.” He is God come close to us. Not far away, not unfeelingly distant, not untouchable. He is God right here. Not waiting up in the sky somewhere, demanding that you climb up there to Him. Not waiting in some deep, dark depths, waiting till you die to meet your Maker. He meets us in this place, right here, somewhere between heaven and hell.

As we walk through the wilderness experiences of life and read the words in Isaiah 35, we catch a prophetic vision for what will happen here, in this very place. We begin to understand, or perhaps remember, that God even now offers spiritual life to us, even when everything around us looks like a desert.

The desert wilderness is always a low, low place on life’s journey but God’s mercy, like water, always flows to the lowest part. Like streams in the desert.

"Then a shoot will grow from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots will bear fruit." (Isaiah 11:1) What is this? This is mercy. Yes, the stump of Jesse is the proof of our own failure. But there is mercy even here, especially here. God delights to bring hope from hopeless situations, to bring life where no one thought it could possibly happen. Mercy is the outpouring of God’s abundant love on people who haven’t done anything to deserve it. Mercy is a shoot growing from the stump of Jesse. Mercy is waiting for you and me.