Wilderness Wanderings

"For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body (Philippians 1:21-24).

Thanks to Kyra for her wonderful series on "New Hope". Now, back to Philippines.

Our text helps us to accept our own impending death, a topic many avoid. Historically, people died at home, with family present. In many places, this is still the case. But in Canada, many die in hospitals or nursing homes, often alone. Their bodies are quickly moved to the morgue or sent to the crematorium, families not knowing what to do with death.

It is the worst possible event for those who believe they have an inalienable right to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness". We cope with death by ignoring its existence. When I started in ministry, most families had a notion of what to do when a loved one died. Today, I often hear the question, "What are we supposed to do?" There are no cultural norms or rituals for responding to death. Preparation for it is avoided. Consider the effort put into staying young and fit.

Into this vacuum, Christians enter with a different story. Paul is writing from his prison in Rome, knowing that execution is likely. So, both Paul and the Philippians are confronted with the specter of his imminent death. Paul is conflicted in this passage. He sees advantages both in dying and in staying alive.

Paul has been saying, "Living well means seeking the glory of Christ." This has been his motto since he met Jesus on the road to Damascus. When he dies, he will finally be with Christ and his sinfulness will no longer detract from his Lord's glory.

As Christians, we believe that there is life after death, even the resurrection of our physical bodies. And that life is better than this one. Many people do not have this hope. To be with Christ is far better than to be here, says Paul. Do you believe that? When we do, it impacts how we live and how we view death.

Paul's conflict is that he also believes the Philippian church still needs his service: "…it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body." He is willing to stay. He is willing to sacrifice his own gain for the sake of the church. He lives what he will later write, "Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others" (2:4). Paul believes that continued life is a greater sacrifice than dying.

Let me put it plainly, physical life or death are not of ultimate importance to Paul. Living means carrying out his calling to preach Christ and dying means gaining conformity with Christ's death and fellowship with him. He hopes for the outcome that will most clearly advance the gospel of Christ. This strikes us as strange if we have allowed the comforts of our present physical existence to have higher priority than Christ. Paul is astonishingly indifferent toward his own death. He invites us to take the same attitude.

This is not, of course, to say that mourning is out of place for the Christian when loved ones die. The fact that they are with the Lord does not take away from our experience of loss. Tears are proper for believers. Jesus himself wept. We can face our own death with assurance, but not with indifference to those who will miss us.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

"Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever" (Rev. 22:1-5).

Coming to the end of working through themes related to suffering and healing in connection with the New Hope program and hearing stories about our siblings in Christ in the global church, today we are going to talk about the opportunities for "looking forward" in community which are necessary to healing. In the final weeks of the New Hope program, we invite participants to complete two activities. First, we invite them to write down a source of pain, a sin, a situation or relationship causing suffering which they have reflected on over the course of the program, and write it on a slip of paper. We then burn these slips of paper at the foot of a wooden cross, with prayer and singing, choosing to surrender them to God.

Having led the New Hope program over the course of a week in South Sudan, I was doubtful about its impact on some participants. There were three young women in my group who had not answered any of the questions during the week, had not eagerly participated in the rehearsal of the stories from Scripture, and had not engaged with me after the sessions alongside their peers. I had continually prayed for them each evening when the sessions were over, but I was not sure that the program was making the kind of headway it usually made. These young women had stories of tremendous pain–fathers shot dead in front of them in tribal conflict, young pregnancies as a result of sexual violence, and one girl who was living in a refugee camp in South Sudan having fled the bombing of her city in Sudan just months before. Could these stories and simple activities really have made any difference?

On the afternoon we brought the slips of paper–and with them pain, suffering, and sin–to the foot of the cross, my perception of the way that God works was challenged. Girls were invited to give testimony of what God had begun to do in their lives that week. And what do you know? The three girls from my group who gave testimony to the others present, through tears and with thanksgiving to God, were the three girls I had assumed unmoved. God does not always work healing miracles for us to see. Others' healing, it turned out, was not about me. Us churchy people, perhaps especially leaders, are not always good at remembering that. When any one of us engages in healing, outreach, ministries of mercy–they are not about us. The people we serve will know our intentions very quickly. We need to have the courage to get out of our own way and allow ourselves to become channels of the Spirit. God will work; what is required of us is a humble acknowledgement of the privilege it is to participate.

The second thing we do to wrap up the New Hope program is to engage with the passage from Revelation that we read for today: "On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations." I'll never forget the time I led New Hope with an intercultural group of young adult Egyptians, western expats, and Sudanese refugees living in Egypt who, when they acted out this story together, and without prompting, interpreted the line "And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations" and began to take imaginary leaves off the tree and pass them to one another. This is indeed the beautiful work that is ours to do. When we begin to heal, by God's grace, we find the strength of the Spirit enabling us to extend that healing to others. And to recognize that we are part of a global and diverse church is to break down all barriers that existed in that room in Cairo, Egypt, but also in our community here in Hamilton–differences of personality, culture, ethnicity, race, nationality, experience–which led these young people to embrace the eschatological vision of Revelation and pull it into their present. May we too be compelled by this vision, arms outstretched, tree of life leaves in hand, offering friendship and belonging, healing and new life.

So as you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

"How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?

How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?

Look on me and answer, Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,

and my enemy will say, "I have overcome him," and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation.

I will sing the Lord's praise, for he has been good to me" (Psalm 13).

Continuing to work through themes related to suffering and healing in connection with New Hope and hearing stories about our siblings in Christ in the global church, today we are going to talk about lament. In the fifth week of the New Hope program, participants engage with the story of Jesus' crucifixion, and they hear the words of Christ's own lament on the cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Jesus is quoting the beginning of Psalm 22, a lament which would have been well-known by the Jewish onlookers and similar to Psalm 13, our text for today.

Lament psalms like these are prevalent in Scripture, particularly in the Psalter. In fact, individual psalms of lament are the most common type of psalm in the Psalter. As we've just noted, Jesus himself, in his death on the cross, affirms the centrality of lament to the Christian experience of suffering. And yet, even as the importance of lament is being recovered in some church contexts, we are still often uncomfortable with this practice. John Calvin loved the psalms and wrote a commentary on them, describing the Psalter as an "anatomy of all parts of the soul." Yet, many churches today continue to be ill-equipped with liturgical resources for the practice of lament. Perhaps this is because lament disrupts the status quo evident in popular modern cultural scripts related to suffering such as "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" or "mind over matter." In answer, lament psalms give scriptural testimony to the importance of allowing space for deep grief, fear, betrayal, and anger, and inviting God to meet us there.

On another note, the language that these lament psalms use, addressing God directly and inviting him into suffering or questioning his role in it, challenge another impulse common in our context–that suffering can only be effectively dealt with through medical or psychological interventions, and that spiritual and religious traditions are only for the seasons that things are going well or for the private lives of individuals, not to be engaged in the public sphere (something the church regrettably and often unintentionally confirms when we fail to engage in lament in corporate worship and allow it to translate into public action for justice).

In one New Hope group I led, a training for ministry leaders from around the world who were learning the program so as to be able to pass it along to their own ministry teams, one of the leaders confessed in frustrated tears to the group that they could not engage in the activity for this fifth week of the program. The activity involved writing a lament using four simple prompts: First, "Jesus, these things happened to me…" Second, "Jesus, I am/I feel…" Third, "Jesus, the worst part of this was…"

The fourth prompt was the most challenging for the leader because it then makes the same movement that Psalm 13 does in the last couple of verses when it says, "But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing the Lord's praise, for he has been good to me." The fourth prompt asks participants to finish this statement: "But I believe (or want to believe because I've heard this about you) that you are…" This prompt indicates that lament is not an expression of the worshipper's own experience or personal desires exclusively, but always grounded in God's character and faithfulness. It's often the greatest challenge because, in the midst of deep suffering, it is only natural to wonder about who God is and what he is up to.

What we came to together as a group of ministry leaders when we discussed our members' challenge with writing this part of the lament is that this final phrase is not simply tritely hopeful or falsely optimistic. Rather, it is an acknowledgment that the source of our complaint or our pain is something which not only offends and causes us pain, but it is actually an offense to God himself. The Bible's testimony is that the sin and evil which causes harm to God's beloved creation, including each of us, is even more painful to God. Thus, lament faithfully insists that God be who God has revealed himself to be.

If you'd like to try writing a lament of your own today, I'll include the prompts in the notes of the podcast. God is not threatened by your complete honesty about your pain. He chose to make known his character and promises to his people. So you can freely answer: How are you hurting today? What do you believe, or want to believe, about who God is?

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

Lament Prompts

• Jesus, these things happened to me: ____________________________

• Jesus, I am/I feel ____________________________ (suffering, hurting, in pain, discouraged, desperate)

• Jesus, the worst part of this was ____________________________

• But I believe (or want to believe because I've heard this about you) that you are ____________________________

"And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years. She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse. When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, because she thought, 'If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed.' Immediately her bleeding stopped and she felt in her body that she was freed from her suffering. At once Jesus realized that power had gone out from him. He turned around in the crowd and asked, 'Who touched my clothes?' 'You see the people crowding against you,' his disciples answered, 'and yet you can ask, 'Who touched me?'' But Jesus kept looking around to see who had done it. Then the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell at his feet and, trembling with fear, told him the whole truth. He said to her, 'Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering'" (Mark 5:25-34).

This week, we are continuing to work through themes related to suffering and healing in connection with the New Hope program and hearing stories about our siblings in Christ in the global church. If you haven't been following along with this series, feel free to look back to last Wednesday's podcast intro which will provide some context.

"Go in peace," Jesus said to the woman in front of him, "and be freed from your suffering." I read these last words and look up, and I see the woman's shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. The silent tears rolling down the young man's cheeks. Tears fill my own eyes. God is doing something in this room, and to say anything else, to add anything to Jesus' own words seems somehow wrong.

It is week four of the New Hope program, it's February of 2024, and I am gathered in a room full of my friends, most of them Sudanese refugees living in Egypt, those forced to flee when the war broke out again in Sudan in April 2023. A war that most of the world had, at this point, largely ignored for the better part of a year. A war which had resulted in more than 150,000 deaths of civilians through a combination of bombings and massacres but also malnutrition and disease resulting from lack of access to basic life necessities. The woman across from me, weeping, had escaped from Sudan and into Egypt the previous spring, having been held at gunpoint by officials, separated from both her older brother and the man she had intended to marry just weeks after the war broke out. The young man with tears running down his face escaped with his aunts, but neither of them have been able to re-establish contact with any other loved ones who remained in Sudan–at least as far as they know–since the beginning of the war. They face discrimination daily in their lives in Cairo, treated as outsiders by most they encounter.

The group has just walked through the story of the bleeding woman and her encounter with Jesus through a visualization activity which ends with an invitation for the listener to do as the woman did, to tell Jesus the whole truth. To tell him their story. We paused for silence. Then the words of Jesus, "Daughter, son, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering." They hang in the air in the room. "Amin, amin, amin," a woman's voice says through tears, as though with the voice of the woman in the story herself, "bashkorak ya rob." Or, in English, "Amen, amen, amen, thank you God."

In my mind, there isn't any kind of exegetical work or systematic theology (necessary though those things are) that does a better job of explaining what Jesus does than what happened in that room that day. I think the invitation for us, in reading this story, is much the same as it is for New Hope participants. To walk through the story and allow it, allow Christ, to encounter us as we are.

So who are you in the story today? Are you the woman, struggling desperately forward, believing that to touch Jesus will mean your healing? Are you the disciples, skeptical of Jesus' encounter? Are you in the crowd of onlookers, watching in wonder or judgment? Are you being given the opportunity to, like Jesus, extend belonging and mercy to someone in pain and fear, desperate to believe who he is, desperate for transformation? No matter where you are in the story, it is for you, as are Jesus' words–to claim as your own and to offer to others: "Daughter, son, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering."

So as you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

"And it will be said:

"Build up, build up, prepare the road! Remove the obstacles out of the way of my people."

For this is what the high and exalted One says— he who lives forever, whose name is holy: "I live in a high and holy place, but also with the one who is contrite and lowly in spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite.

I will not accuse them forever, nor will I always be angry, for then they would faint away because of me— the very people I have created.

I was enraged by their sinful greed; I punished them, and hid my face in anger, yet they kept on in their willful ways.

I have seen their ways, but I will heal them; I will guide them and restore comfort to Israel's mourners,

creating praise on their lips. Peace, peace, to those far and near," says the Lord. "And I will heal them." (Is. 57:14-19).

Today, we are continuing to work through themes related to suffering and healing in connection with the New Hope program and hearing stories about our siblings in Christ in the global church. If this is your first devotional this week, and this doesn't sound familiar, the first few minutes of Wednesday's episode provide more context.

In the third week of the New Hope program, we talk about barriers to our healing and in our relationships with God, others, and ourselves. We read Scripture together and do a drawing activity to demonstrate how we see these barriers. In one group, a young woman sat staring at her paper for the better part of ten minutes as the women around her created detailed images of the barriers they perceived in their own lives. When the time was nearly up, she scribbled down two words and showed them to the group: "sin" and "suffering." "I can't figure out where one ends and the other begins," she said. "What part of my pain is my fault, and what part is other people's fault. It seems easy for the rest of you to find the line, but I don't know how." This young woman had suffered from several addictions and escaped an abusive relationship. She, like so many others in her circumstances, had been shamed by others into blaming herself for what she had experienced. She wondered aloud to her group whether God's grace was for someone like her. She had left her home country and run far from the source of her pain, but as is true of many in these circumstances, to escape physically is only to have one of many barriers removed.

Today's verses from Isaiah draw us into the situation of the people of Israel post-Babylonian exile. Following closely after chapters which speak hopefully of God's redemption of his people from their captivity by a foreign empire, the later chapters of Isaiah, including today's passage, reflect a kind of disappointment among the people. They were free from exile but not experiencing the kind of dramatic restoration they had expected their freedom to bring. They were back in the land of their ancestors, but their holy cities had become a wilderness, and there were serious divisions in the community about pressing ethical issues. They had been forced to recognize the reality of their sin, as well as the persisting effects of the suffering inflicted on them in exile. Like the woman in New Hope, the line between their own responsibility and that of others was blurry. They had moved physically out of captivity, but barriers in relationship with God and others remained.

What is God's response in today's passage? He reminds them that he lives "in a high and holy place" but that this does not prevent him from being "also with the one who is contrite and lowly in spirit." He acknowledges his anger at their sin, but promises healing, guidance, and restoration for mourners.

For God, the barriers that his people construct, whether due to their own sin or to protect themselves from the pain inflicted by others, like the young woman in New Hope, are not insurmountable: "Remove the obstacles out of the way of my people," he commands. To those of us who live with–or watch people we love live with–the lingering effects of sin or suffering, and to those of us for whom the line between them remains indiscernible, causing us to wonder whether God's grace is wide enough, receive this promise to his people: "I have seen their ways, but I will heal them . . . Peace, peace, to those far and near, says the Lord."

So as you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

"So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them. God blessed them and said to them, "Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground." Then God said, "I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food." And it was so. God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day" (Gen. 1:27-31).

For those of you who listened to yesterday's reflection, you will recall that Pastor Michael is away for the week, and so we are going to take a break from our progress through Philippians. For a few days, I'm going to walk us through a week of devotional reflections based on themes of a program called New Hope, which I participated in and led during my time serving in Egypt and South Sudan. If you didn't get the chance to listen yesterday, I invite you to go back and listen to the first couple of minutes to get a sense of what the program is and how it will shape this week's installments of Wilderness Wanderings.

The first time I led the New Hope program was with a group of Egyptian women and girls. About half the group were employees of a non-profit serving unhoused children and youth; the other half were unhoused youth themselves. In particular, in this group, were several young girls who were teenage mothers. In an honour-shame culture like Egypt, a teen pregnancy has impacts often beyond what we can imagine in a western context. These girls did not have any family support system, lived in a shelter (one of just two I am aware of in the whole city), and were cared for by non-profit staff.

In week two of the New Hope program, we read the story of creation together, including today's verses, and reflect on what the story tells us about God and about us. The three things about today's verses which resonated most with the young women in the group were the fact that they are created in God's image, that God gave them a task–to be fruitful and to rule, and that God called all that he created good. One of the girls, through tears, remarked that she found hope in God seeing everything he had made and calling it very good: "That," she said, "is very different from the way that everyone else sees me and my baby. Is it really how God sees us?"

The verses we are looking at today are known in our tradition as the "cultural mandate," humanity's God-given vocation at the time of creation. It might seem curious to some of us to start here. I've said I'll be taking us through a series on suffering and healing, and at the point these words enter the story of God, there is no suffering and thus no need for healing. But that's exactly why we need to start here.

Just as the girls recognized so poignantly, the cultural mandate reveals how God sees all of us, all of his creation. Before we can talk about the corrupting forces of evil which cause suffering, we need to understand God's intention for creation. Before we talk about healing, we need to understand humanity's telos, the way in which we were created and what we were created for. Only then can we discern the reason that suffering impacts us in the way it does and, ultimately, the end to which our healing is meant to bring us: As the girls recognized, to the dignity of identity with the Creator, and the empowerment to participate as co-creators of life in all its forms.

So as you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

While Pastor Michael is away for the week, we are going to take a break from our progress through Philippians, and I'm going to walk us through a week of devotional reflections based on a program that I participated in and led five times during my time in Egypt and (briefly) in South Sudan. Just for today, our reflection is going to be a little bit longer than usual so I can provide some context for this.

The program is called New Hope, and it was developed by a team of licensed clinical psychologists and counsellors, church planters, and resource specialists in teaching Scripture in oral cultures, focused on multiplying healing in suffering communities.

Rather than taking us through the entirety of the program (not possible in short reflections like these) I am going to lead us thematically through elements of it, focusing on key Scriptures which illustrate the themes, and sharing with you brief stories of the ways that I witnessed healing through them. I trust that as we daily encounter Scripture and the stories of our siblings in Christ in the global church, we will experience the Holy Spirit drawing connections between their stories, our own stories, and God's great story, directing our attention to the way that our God works through his word and his church to multiply healing for the sake of his kingdom.

Our text for today is from Gen. 45:4-8:

"Then Joseph said to his brothers, 'Come close to me.' When they had done so, he said, 'I am your brother Joseph, the one you sold into Egypt! And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you. For two years now there has been famine in the land, and for the next five years there will be no plowing and reaping. But God sent me ahead of you to preserve for you a remnant on earth and to save your lives by a great deliverance. So then, it was not you who sent me here, but God. He made me father to Pharaoh, lord of his entire household and ruler of all Egypt'" (Gen. 45:4-8).

These verses come from the end of the story that groups tell together in the first week of New Hope, the story of Joseph–favoured son of Jacob, who is sold into slavery by his brothers, accused of sexually assaulting his first master's wife, sent to jail, interprets dreams for the king of Egypt and his servants, and is eventually released and put in charge of years of plenty and famine in the land of Egypt and its surrounding regions. Here at the end of the story, Joseph, second in command over all of Egypt, makes himself known to his brothers, who have appeared before him without recognition to receive food during the famine. It is a remarkable ending to a complicated story full of suffering in many forms.

This part of the Joseph story also provides the vision statement for the New Hope program, a paraphrased version of the words we have just heard Joseph speak to his brothers upon the revelation that he is still alive. The goal for New Hope participants is that they would be able to come to terms with their suffering in such a way that they can truthfully say with Joseph, "Do not be afraid. You meant to harm me. But God has used what has happened for good. Not just for me, but so that many other people can be saved."

Like Joseph himself at the beginning of this narrative, most people beginning the New Hope program are highly skeptical about the truth of Joseph's words to his brothers. Perhaps, in the midst of your own suffering, you are too. "Don't be afraid," (or don't be distressed, in the version we read today), is how Joseph begins. Well, that's already quite something. It's the most frequently given command in Scripture, and perhaps it has been a comfort to you in seasons of suffering. But for others, maybe it just feels like an extra burden for an already difficult season.

If you look closely at the contexts this command is given in Scripture, it quickly becomes apparent that this is one of God's instructions which is not necessarily meant to logically cohere with the circumstances in which it is given. For example, it is offered to the Israelites at the shore of the Red Sea, while Pharaoh's army is hot on their tail, by Jesus to Jairus when he comes to him with his daughter on the brink of death, and by Peter in his letter to churches scattered throughout Asia Minor and facing intense persecution. All of these people have good reason to be afraid, and the command is not a judgment of their fear, but an expression of God's heart for his people–that he does not desire their fear nor the circumstances that cause it. Thus, with this command, suffering individuals or communities are invited to witness in hope to something that is beyond their immediate reality.

The command "do not be afraid" is not all that Joseph says. He goes on to insist not only that it was God, and not his brothers, who sent him to Egypt, but that he did so for the salvation of Joseph's brothers and the many others who received food during the time of famine through his leadership. Joseph is able to see redemption in his pain, and able to forgive his brothers because he has taken note of God's presence with him and his plan not only for him in the midst of his pain, but for others encountering suffering whom God has cared for through Joseph's presence.

If Joseph's declaration is a difficult one to hear today because God's redemption of your pain still feels an impossibly long way off, I would draw your attention to Genesis 39. Just a few chapters before Joseph's words in our passage for today, three times (vv. 2, 21, 23), the narrator of the story notes that "the Lord was with Joseph." This does not mean that Joseph was free of his suffering. He remained in slavery and then in prison. His circumstances did not change, but God was present with him there. And he is present with you. To trust that, and to trust with Joseph that God works for good, even in suffering, not just for us, but so that many might be saved, is not easy. For some of us in the midst of pain, it may be beyond our capacity right now. And that's okay. Your uncertainty is not a liability to God because he is not confined to what we can imagine. So do not be afraid.

As you go on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and God's provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain (Philippians 1:18-21).

Yesterday, Kyra adeptly explored Paul's ability to rejoice in the proclamation of the gospel, even when that proclamation comes from impure motives. This rejoicing leads him to reflect on his current situation: imprisonment for the gospel. He expects deliverance by either of two means: release from prison or death. It doesn't matter which. Both are a good end if he does not bring shame to Christ.

Is Paul being flippant about his life? Does his life have only marginal value? Not in the least! To understand this, we remember the first great commandment, "love the Lord our God will all of our being" (Mark 12:30). This includes our bodies. Secondly, we recall Jesus words in Luke 9:23, "whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me."

Since he met Jesus on the road to Damascus Paul has been practicing this kind of life. He has been dying and rising with Christ. Daily denying himself. Daily loving God with his body. Daily facing death for and with Jesus. Daily experiencing Christ's new life. His life hinges on his Lord's death and resurrection. Having daily lived this kind of life, Paul is convinced that through the prayers of the Philippian Christians and the Holy Spirit, God will deliver him, either by release from prison or by death.

Following Jesus, Paul has daily picked up his own cross—a thorn in the flesh, enduring suffering and hardship, bearing grief, tending to difficult relationships, repenting from sin. In this work of dying to self: relinquishing control, admitting weakness, grieving well, turning from sin, offering forgiveness and blessing to enemies—Paul has learned what it means to face death well. To face it, indeed, with hope and trust that the Spirit works to bring the new life and fruitfulness of Christ in every circumstance.

As he writes in 2 Corinthians 4:10-11, "We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body." That's how Paul lived.

Paul knows the Lord may secure his release from prison. Even so, he will die soon. He knows that. He is an old man. But, since he has lived for many years, picking up his cross daily, dying to himself with Christ, and thereby, discovering the new life of Christ in his own body, he can rejoice. He has discovered that dying to self always leads to new life in Jesus. The future holds no fear for him: he will keep living for Christ or gain all the glories promised for believers.

An old Christian tradition says that the role of the church is to prepare us for a good death. When we live for ourselves, life is always too short. There is never enough time to satisfy our itches. Death cannot be good. When we live for Christ by dying to self, then life and death are not so different. Then physical death is just another way of dying to self to be filled with the life of Christ. Do you live in this way? Do you already now practice for a good, Christian death? If not, you can start today.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

"It is true that some preach Christ out of envy and rivalry, but others out of goodwill. The latter do so out of love, knowing that I am put here for the defense of the gospel. The former preach Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely, supposing that they can stir up trouble for me while I am in chains. But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice" (Philippians 1:5-18).

Last week, Pastor Michael talked about the challenge of praying for and loving our fellow believers who frustrate or disappoint us by their words and actions. In the verses today, Paul adds a layer of complexity in being obedient to this command. There are some, he says, who preach Christ out of envy and rivalry, with selfish ambition and not sincerity, to stir up trouble.

Many of us have likely encountered people, whether in-person in churches we have attended, or in online ministry or other spaces, and discerned that perhaps their motives in sharing Christ with others are not entirely pure. We are regularly exposed to stories of the corruption of church leaders whose ministries are centred around ego and personality, and yet in those same places are congregants who speak about transformation, of conversions, baptisms, healed bodies and relationships, care for the poor and oppressed. What do we make of such collisions of beauty and brokenness?

In the words of Paul in today's verses, I think we see a couple layers to the way we are called to respond. First, is the necessity to name what is wrong, to call out false motives, to bring to light abuses of the gospel message for the sake of personal advancement. There is a temptation to read this passage as a sort of "ends justify the means" approach to ministry, to ignore the twisting of scripture and mistreatment of persons through a misreading of the text which declares, "Well, Paul said that we must rejoice whenever the gospel is shared! Sometimes that requires us to put up with the consequences of bad leadership." But before Paul's declaration of joy, he names the false motivations of envy, rivalry, selfish ambition, and stirring up trouble. He draws the church's attention to those who would presumably use the message of Christ in such ways, with the intention to put them on their guard, not to excuse their behaviour. This is the first thing Paul does, and to forget this has been, in the history of the church, to use passages like this one to sanction or turn a blind eye to much abuse.

When he has called out the failures of leaders, Paul then gives thanks for the preaching of the gospel in spite of the falseness of those who have done the preaching. Now, how is it that he can do that? How do we ourselves follow this pattern without the mistake we have just identified?

First, we need to examine ourselves. Rather than being too quick to identify ourselves as the Philippian church, subject to false motives of others, we need to discern our own false motives, our own twisting of the gospel to serve our own ends, and our own limitations to see how Christ is at work among those with whom we might disagree, those whom we might be tempted to "stir up" our own trouble for.

Second, we are called to develop, by the Spirit, a capacity to do what is at the heart of the gospel (but also one of its most challenging expectations): To live in paradox. To find redemption in brokenness. To anticipate resurrection as we contemplate the cross. To hope in the "already and not yet" of new creation.

To give thanks for a gospel message preached even with false motivation as Paul does in these verses requires profound spiritual maturity and prayerful discernment with the community of the church. It requires condemning and pursuing consequences for what is false and still desiring what is true, even when it means we have to do a lot of untangling to find it. This kind of work can be deeply painful, and so it is critical that we remember that to bring beauty out of brokenness, redemption out of sin, led Jesus on the road to Golgotha, to his very death on a cross. And so, as we do this work, we are not alone. And it is for this reason that we can, even as Paul did in chains and subject to the trouble-making of others, rejoice.

So as you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

A Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is Acts 2:1-24, 37-47. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!

To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

Dive In!

1. What image for the Holy Spirit was used throughout this sermon? Have you ever experienced this work? Pay attention for it.
2. What was the first thing the Holy Spirit did? Consider how your own heart is.
3. The Holy Spirit led the first Christian community to devote themselves to four things:
4. Consider your devotion to each one. How might the Spirit be 'blowing' your devotion to deepen
5. How might we as a congregation grow in devoting ourselves to these?