Wilderness Wanderings

Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God's people and also members of his household, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone. (Ephesians 2:19-20)

If you recall from last week, Paul reminded these gentiles in Ephesus of how they were once defined by all the things they were not: "Not-Jews" "Uncircumcised." "Separate from Christ." "Excluded from citizenship." "Foreigners to the covenants of the promise." "Without hope." "Without God in the world." Seven negative identity markers covering all the things that the Ephesians were not.

How many of us define ourselves this way—by our deficiencies, by what we are not or by what we do not have? "Not skinny enough." "Excluded from the property market of our peers." "Not part of the group." "Don't belong." "Not enough money." "Not what she has." "Not what he can do." "Not happy." "Without the right job." Many of us do this. It is much easier to see what's lacking in our lives than to see all the things we do, in fact, have.

How many of us define our experience of church the same way? By what it isn't? "Not welcoming enough." "Not my style." "Not progressive enough." "Not conservative enough." "Not loving enough." "Not serving enough." "Not enough money." "Not enough volunteers." "Not the right programs." "Not diverse enough." "Not doing enough." "Without all the people who used to attend." "Without hope."

Our eyes get good at seeing the things we pay attention to. And what we human people tend to pay the most attention to are all the things that aren't there. The things that should be better, fuller, faster, more pleasing, and more aligned to our values, but aren't. As Christians, this simply is the wrong way to see the world. It is an immature way of using our capacity of attention.

Paul will have none of it. In Jesus Christ, neither we nor the church are defined any longer by what we are not, but instead, by what we are. We are defined by what he has made us to be. So Paul now begins rattling off the positive identities we have received in Christ through the peace and salvation he has given. We are "fellow citizens." "With God's people." "Members of his household." "Built on the foundation of those faithful ones who have gone before throughout the generations, including Jesus Christ himself."

We are to train our attention on the unseen things, yes. But not the unseen things that are missing. Our eyes are to be trained for the unseen things that are there: reality as it really is. Like a Holy Spirit stirring about, forming Christ in us. A God who has always provided and will continue to do so out of his Creation of abundance. A living Lord who beckons us to see his gifts that are abundantly more than all we could ask or imagine.

If we are to live Christian lives, we need to know who and what we are, not what we aren't. And we need to know what the church is too, rather than what it isn't. The church is the place where we citizens of God's household and Kingdom gather to train our eyes to see the unseen reality of a living God at work, making us ever more fully into who we already are in Jesus Christ: giving us every good gift with which to bless this world along the way.

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

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:20-21)

He came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit (Ephesians 2:17-18).

Jesus is our peace. He has done it. He has destroyed the barriers and dividing walls of hostility, putting them to death in his cross. And not only the barriers that stand between us people who are often harboring hostile feelings toward one another—but also the barriers between us and God. In his flesh, he has forged all of us into one single, new humanity, and reconciled us to God through the cross.

Through our Prince of Peace, we have been brought near both to God and to one another—no matter the diversity or hostility that might still separate us. Foreigners and citizens, Catholics and Protestants, estranged family members, folks with differing political leanings—no matter: all who are in Christ have been made one and the most significant word about our relationships is spoken by him— "Peace." This peace is a grace God has worked into us. Our calling is to work it out in our daily living. That is why later we read about lifestyle, words and actions—working this peace into our lives till it becomes natural.

Jesus does not force us into this peace. He comes and preaches it. Offers it. And like a Sunday sermon—no one is obligated to take it, agree, or do anything with it. Jesus will not coerce us into working out what he has worked in by his grace. Otherwise, it wouldn't be grace, just another form of slavery.

Remember that Jesus did not create peace in Jerusalem by overthrowing the Roman occupiers and taking control of the city, enforcing his kingdom and its peace on the population. Rather, he created peace by taking all their violence and hostilities upon himself as they cursed, condemned, whipped, and crucified him. In Luke's telling, Jesus weeps over Jerusalem, saying "If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes" (Lk 19:42).

But note what Jesus did do: he came to Jerusalem and preached his kingdom of peace. They rejected it and killed him. But peace was made all the same—it happened through the cross, through the putting to death of these hostilities. And on the other side—the possibility for a new, peace-laden resurrection life. Jesus again came and preached his kingdom of peace, even to those who had betrayed and abandoned him. Jesus continues to come preaching peace to all, both far away and near, offering his new life.

The peace of Christ is on offer. Will you accept it? If we receive and believe that Jesus really has accomplished a peace between God and us and everyone else—then by the Spirit, the working out of this peace that has been worked in will transform us and all our relationships.

And, because the source of this peace is in Christ, it is an inexhaustible gift. It continually flows from his life into our lives through the power of the Spirit, and from us into the lives of others—enough of it always, to cover every new hostility and division. As Isaiah puts it in some of our favourite Advent verses: "Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end" (Isaiah 9:7).

Hard to believe. Certainly. But listen:

God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us. Glory to God in the church! Glory to God in the Messiah, in Jesus! Glory down all the generations! Glory through all millennia! Amen (Ephesians 3:20-21 MSG).

For he himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, by setting aside in his flesh the law with its commands and regulations. His purpose was to create in himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace, and in one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross, by which he put to death their hostility. (Ephesians 2:14-16)

Can Christians claim to be people of peace? Some say that Christians are the problem, having created many conflicts. From the crusades to colonial campaigns, from the bloody religious wars during the reformation to residential schools in recent memory—we Christians have little track record to draw on when it comes to peace.

It's true that in many places and times, Christians have not been agents of peace and reconciliation. Not even in our own lives. Today is Valentine's Day. Even for many Jesus' followers, it's a bitter and lonely day. Broken relationships and divorce litter our families too.

How often have you or I not added bricks to the walls of hostility that divide us from others? Even our efforts at good produce unintended harms more often than we would like. Can we say anything when it comes to peace? Are we just as much part of the problem as the next person?

But if we, followers of the Prince of Peace, cannot talk about peace, who can?

It is an important question. Violence continues to erupt all around us, embodied in wars in Gaza, Ukraine and many other places. Can we speak peace into these situations, tainted though our actions have been? Can we speak a word of reconciliation—of forgiveness or confession—among relationships that are broken and breaking, even though we ourselves have helped fortify walls of hostility?

When it comes to these questions, Paul helps us out. At the beginning of this chapter, he reminds us that left to ourselves, we are dead in our transgressions. Our history is littered with sin, discord, and division. Thankfully however, peace does not begin with us. It begins with God. Christ accomplishes it.

He is our peace. He is the one who tears down the dividing walls of hostility and destroys the barriers. He is the one who unites deeply divided ethnic groups into one new humanity within his church. And he does it through his cross where all the hostilities we can muster are put to death—whether the hostilities of our past, present, or future. All of them die in the death of Christ on the cross. His victory over human hostility is total. None of it survives, such that what remains, is peace. The peace he gives, he gives freely to all, as a gift of this new resurrection life.

This is the reality in Christ which will be seen fully at his second coming. For now, though, amidst the continuing hostilities of our lives and world, take heart that we Christians can still speak of peace. The way we do it is not by pointing to ourselves, but to Jesus—reminding ourselves and others that "he is our peace." Of course, we must do so with humility. Confession and repentance are also requirements. For if Christians will not humble themselves in confession and repentance, who will?

Where Jesus' resurrection life is present among us, glimpses of that peace shine through.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God first given in this letter:

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.

Therefore, remember that formerly you who are Gentiles by birth and called "uncircumcised" by those who call themselves "the circumcision" (which is done in the body by human hands)—remember that at that time you were separate from Christ, excluded from citizenship in Israel and foreigners to the covenants of the promise, without hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near by the blood of Christ. (Ephesians 2:11-13)

Wilderness Wanderings will be wrapping up soon as I (Pastor Anthony) take a call to Orillia. So: in these final installments, we will be reflecting on the letter to the Ephesians—particularly those verses that lead us into Paul's prayer from the end of chapter 3.

In some ways, the verses from today's text are a repeat of the verses that began the chapter where Paul wrote "you were dead in your transgressions and sins." Paul begins with the past tense in both places to heighten the contrast: because in Christ, things look a lot different!

The point Paul was making at the beginning of the chapter was about death and life, sin and salvation. But now he begins to work his way into the implications—what does it mean to practice this resurrection life we've been given? Firstly, it means working out the grace that God has worked into us. That's what the verses before this describe. But it also comes with a change in status and relationship.

Here Paul comes with a litany of things that the Ephesians were and weren't before Jesus entered the picture: "Gentiles." "Uncircumcised." "Separate from Christ." "Excluded from citizenship." "Foreigners to the covenants of the promise." "Without hope." "Without God in the world." Of course, what one realizes is that this list only makes sense from the point of view of an insider to all these things, that is, a Jewish person.

Pious Jews were accustomed to praying a daily prayer of thanks to God for not being created as a gentile. The Temple courts, likewise, were divided into inner and outer courts. One for gentiles on the outside, and one for Jews on the inside. Gentiles could not pass through the dividing wall on the penalty of death. Warnings were posted in Greek and Latin to make sure they knew. Hostilities ran hot between insiders and outsiders. As they did at some level between many different ethnic groups.

But here's the thing—Jesus tears down all these ethnic hostilities and barriers. He strips these believing gentiles of all their former disqualifications. Not only that, he has the audacity to bring these gentiles who were once far away—not just into the inner court, but into the very presence of God! He tears the veil to the Holy of Holies and by his own blood, invites them right in!

This is not merely an interesting point of ancient history or Biblical research. It is emblematic of something much deeper. In his cross, Jesus shatters all ethnic and national boundaries inside his church. Not just then, but also today. And not firstly by giving courses on EDI or anti-racism to tell us of our biases or how to treat one another. No, it begins more subversively than that. Jesus begins simply by bringing those who were once far away, near. Near enough that we all have to encounter one another and contend with the fact that we're all now siblings of the same saved family on the same basis: faith in Jesus.

Together in the presence of Jesus, stuck now with hated enemies, immigrants, and foreign outcasts who have become our sisters and brothers: this is where transformation into the life of resurrection begins. Will you submit to the encounter?

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.

For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart (Hebrews 12:2b-3).

What images come to mind when you hear (or read) the name 'Jesus'? A little lad hanging onto his mother's leg in the marketplace, unnerved by all the noise, smells and people? A teen learning trades from his father? A dusty-footed traveller wandering the paths of Judea and Galilee followed by a gaggle of uncomprehending disciples? A preacher sitting in a boat? A feeder of thousands? A healer of the sick? A shepherd of his flock? An innocent person, arrested, tried and crucified? Or resurrected appearing to his bewildered disciples who in hiding?

All valid images. All valid portraits of Jesus, our Lord and Saviour. But coming towards the end of his letter, our author wants us to see something different, to focus our attention not on Jesus' humiliation, but on his glory. Not because his humiliation was not important, nor because it doesn't have great value for our faith and life and contemplation. He draws our attention to the truth that Jesus was able to endure all these humiliations because he knew that at the end of the race there was joy.

What joy? The joy of redemption of course, not his own but ours. In Luke 10, Jesus sees Satan fall from heaven and is filled with joy, while in Luke 15, when Jesus tells stories of the lost being found, the finders are all filled with joy. Those finders represent God in the parables. Jesus was willing to endure the agony of humiliation, suffering and death because he knew that this was the road to bring us and the entire cosmos back into communion with God. And because he finished his race, shouldering the humiliation, he sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

It is this final image of Jesus in his glory and power that our author draws to our attention now. Jesus is the firstfruits of the new creation, he is the guarantee that we will be glorified too. We have a whole crowd of witnesses cheering us on, but it is not to them that we should look. No, we need to keep our eyes on Jesus. He is the prize. We see him, there, on the throne, nail scarred hands, sword pierced body, the crown of glory not hiding where the thorns pierced him. In his encouragement to us not to grow weary or lose heart, our author does not point us to the great cloud of witnesses, but rather to this one.

But it is not his battle wounds that draw our attention, its his joy. The joy that radiates from his face draws us on. Today, we might struggle. Today, we might be weary of the bills that need paying. Today, we might be weary of the brokenness we feel in our hearts and see in the lives of others. Today, we might be burdened with the endless slaughter of innocents in our world. Today, we are called to self-denial and humility, to sacrifice, to resisting the world and self even unto death. Dying is the way of the disciple.

Jesus would not have us ignore all that. But his joy draws us forward, it keeps us in the fight. It keeps us doing the right thing in the right way, just like Jesus did. His joy enables us to suffer for his cause today. His joy tells us that someday, we will be enveloped in that joy. Someday, all of creation will be filled to overflowing with that joy.

For now, we look at Him, we hear him speak, we do what he says, we follow where He leads, we trust he will provide. Looking to him and his love, till our hearts burn with it. We see him beckoning us on. His eyes are fixed on us, radiating joy, delighting in us. He is drawing us to himself, leading and perfecting our faith, changing us into his likeness from glory to glory.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God first given in this letter:

Now may the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. (Hebrews 12:1-2a)

Peer pressure is a thing. So is personal determination. The author of Hebrews draws on both, cheering us on to faith in the race of life.

Of course, peer pressure and personal determination can also undercut faith when they run the wrong way. For instance, while there are many benefits of strong Christian institutions—there can also be drawbacks. A common story in the Christian schools is one where a group of friends pushes the limits of acceptable behaviour when it comes to bullying or partying. They look around at one another and encourage one another on: I won't tell if you don't tell. We're all good Christians here, and aren't Christians permitted to be strong, have fun, etc.? As one group begins to push the boundaries of what constitutes acceptable Christian character and behavior, others follow suit. This is a negative form of Christian witness: a witness that erodes character, perseverance, and faith among the community of believers. I ought to add that it does not just happen at school.

Our personal determination can also flag. It is exhausting to fight for the good against the wrong, to take personal stands of integrity against issues, whether big or mundane, not to mention the quieter internal battles against sin and despair. Our resolve can be cut short in a thousand ways: some of us have strong internal critics that hamper our confidence in stepping forward in faith, others of us are worn out, grieving, or discouraged, others still are impacted by the seasonal blues. Great athletes tell us that endurance and perseverance in a long race is ultimately about the mental resolve to keep going and push through. There are many reasons that's hard to do, even more so when the peer pressure we feel invites us to consider giving up.

Enter the book of Hebrews. Over chapter 11, we have been reminded that our lives participate in a much longer and larger story: the story of God in, through, and among his people. It is the story of Creation. The story of Able, Noah, and Abraham. The story of Sarah and Rahab. It is ultimately the story that culminates in the good news of Jesus—his birth, life, death, resurrection, and ascension. We await the end of the story at Jesus' second coming to set all things right and make all things new. But until then we participate in the story by living our own lives of faith.

As we do, the writer invites us to listen to the cheers of those who have gone before us. We have a larger community than just those who surround us at school, work, or in our friend group. It is none less than Abraham and Sarah cheering us on from the crowd, together with all sorts of lesser known saints—perhaps even some of those that you have known from this life. Those dearly loved ones of ours who ran the race before them—faults, foibles, and faith all wrapped together. They cheer us on, encourage us, and continue to speak to us through their example of how to fight the good fight and finish the race. That's the kind of peer pressure we need—a positive pressure that carries us forward through hard times and hard choices of personal character and integrity that keeps Jesus ever in the fore.

We are not to look at how difficult the race is, how loud the voices to give up and give in are, nor how limited our own resources and desire to keep going. Instead, we are to keep our head up and our eyes trained on Jesus. This, we are told, is enough. Because Jesus is not just the one we run to. No: he also run this race and by his help we are enabled to run it to.

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

Now may the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised, since God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect (Hebrews 11:39-40).

The whole book of Hebrews has been heading towards the conclusion of this chapter. The Old Testament saints had something, but we have something better. They received a promise, but we have received what God promised to them. They received some small promises, such as the land God promised to Abraham and descendants too many to count. But the main promise they did not receive.

But to fully grasp our author's intent, we need peek ahead. After this we read, "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles…In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood" (12:1, 4).

Its about our struggle against sin. The letter begins with Jesus, who "after he had provided purification for sins, sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven" (1:3). This great promise of Jesus Christ, his redemption and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, the better promises of the better covenant, the saints of old did not receive. They died in faith, not having received the promises, only seeing them from afar. Yet, in faith they struggled against sin. But our resources for that struggle are far superior.

Our author uses two words to describe the new covenant in Christ: better and perfect. The word "better" occurs 13 times in this letter. Jesus has inherited a better name; he has brought us a better hope; he is the deposit of a better covenant presented in better promises sealed with his blood; in Him we have the better country, a heavenly one.

To them God spoke through the prophets; to us through his Son. To them he offered the rest of Canaan; to us the rest of God. Their high priest was a man who died; ours is a priest for.ever. Their sanctuary was on earth; ours is the true sanctuary in heaven. Their sacrifices did not bring cleansing; the sacrifice of Jesus makes our hearts new by the Spirit; even our consciences are cleansed. They worshipped before an earthly tent; we have access into the very presence and love of the Father. God has indeed provided something better for us: the blood of Jesus and his continuing presence through the Holy Spirit.

The better thing God has provided is summarized in the word perfection; a term used 14 times. It comes from the ancient Greek term for "purpose" or "end." It does not mean sinless, even though that is on the horizon. It refers to God's ultimate plan and purpose for us which is accomplished in Christ. Paul offers us this, "For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in [Christ], and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross…But now he has reconciled you by Christ's physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish…" (Colossians 1:19-20, 22).

In Christ, we are being made holy through the Spirit's power. We have many more resources for the struggle against sin than the saints who lived before Jesus. Therefore, keep up the struggle. Don't give up. Don't be lazy. Don't be faithless. God is perfecting us in Christ.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God first given in this letter:

Now may the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

An extended Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text comes from 2 Samuel 6 from the New International Version of the Bible. 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 QUESTIONS

1. What stands out to you from hearing these verses? Is God offering an invitation or a challenge to you through those words? Take time to pray about it.

2. How does the word for peace (Shalom/Salam) get used in the names found in the books of Samuel? What do we learn about peace through the way these peace-names are used?

3. Read the previous story of the Ark from 1 Samuel 4-6 sometime. What (either from your reading or Pastor Anthony reminding us in the sermon) is similar about the way Israel dealt with the ark and the LORD who was seated upon then and now in 2 Sam 6?

4. What are the ways in which we can attempt to "use" God as a dead religious totem rather than submit to him as our living LORD with whom we are in relationship?

5. What does a life of worshipful submission to the name of Lord Almighty look like from 1 Samuel 6?

6. How might that worshipful life of submission look in your own life this week?

Women received back their dead, raised to life again. There were others who were tortured, refusing to be released so that they might gain an even better resurrection. Some faced jeers and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were put to death by stoning; they were sawed in two; they were killed by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated—the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, living in caves and in holes in the ground. (Hebrews 11:35-38)

Pastor Michael referred to the first half of this long paragraph yesterday—the part where everything goes really pretty well. Kingdoms are conquered, justice is administered, swords are sheathed, women receive back their dead, resurrected. Faith gives witness to God's strength in the midst of our weakness, and what incredible things he can do!

But now the paragraph turns. The story of faith is not always a story of triumph in the near term. Sometimes it looks a lot more like God's silence or human sadness, hardship, and death.

We heard yesterday of women who received back their dead: like the widow at Zarephath whose son was raised by Elijah (1 Kgs 17:17–24), or the Shunemite woman, whose son was raised by Elisha (2 Kgs 4:18–37). Now we hear of those who were tortured and refused release--those who ultimately died a martyrs death so that they might receive "an even better resurrection" (2 Maccabees 7). Not a resurrection within this life, like the sons of the women mentioned above received. Those young men would die again at the end of their natural lives. But a better resurrection—the resurrection from the dead when Jesus returns and death is no more. A resurrection after the end of our mortal lives. This is the better resurrection.

We desire and often think the life of faith should be one of fighting and winning our battles in the strength of the Lord right here and now. Despite all the well marketed books, podcasts, social media content, and lovely contemporary Christian Music anthems to that effect—the Bible simply doesn't substantiate a faith that finds its victory in this life. The victory is a faith that holds on to God, even if it doesn't come with a shred of earthly benefit. Faith holds on to God, trusting that God alone is enough. The victory is his business, not ours. He himself will bring the final victory over sin, death and evil—in his time—whether in this life or the next.

As CS Lewis once put it in The Screwtape Letters on the pen of a senior demon writing to a younger one: "Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy's will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys."

These people of faith in God alone who trust and obey despite all else—they, the ones who go about "in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated," they are the ones of whom it is said: "the world was not worthy of them." By the grace of God, may we be found in their number.

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 what more shall I say? I do not have time to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samson and Jephthah, about David and Samuel and the prophets, who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, and gained what was promised; who shut the mouths of lions, quenched the fury of the flames, and escaped the edge of the sword; whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies. Women received back their dead, raised to life again. (Hebrews 11:32-35a).

As Jericho's walls fell, the first period of Israel's history closes. Its time to speed up the story. Our author rattles off a few prominent names of judges, kings, and prophets, recalling what faith both produced and suffered. He wants us to see that under and behind and within all the outward events recorded, there lived faith in God. History is the record of what God has done through and for those who trusted Him.

Notice how much faith accomplished: kingdoms conquered, justice established, lions quieted, flames stilled, swords sheathed. See also that among those mentioned in these verses, few are remembered for their strong faith. Their faith was faltering and feeble. Maybe Jesus was thinking of them when he told his disciples that with faith the size of a mustard seed, they could move mountains. Gideon, Barak, Samson and Jephthah were hardly shining examples of godly folk. Yet, they make the list. How encouraging for us who have a faltering faith.

We see that God does not promise the faithful a life free from difficulty and danger. Rather, faith is called into exercise when human resources are exhausted and danger looms. We would never learn to know either God or ourselves as His children through a life of ease. Trials can accomplish two things. They give us the opportunity of honouring God by waiting for him in trust and they give God the opportunity of showing how faithful He is in watching over His children, working for and in us. In difficult times our hearts are drawn towards our heavenly father, in dependence and humility and trust. When we face hardship God can reveal in our open heart all the tenderness and all the saving power of His love. Suffering is the school of faith; it is the place where Christians grow spiritually.

It is also true that selfishness is the death of faith. When we seek to be strong in faith, for the sake of our own comfort and goodness and power, we will fail. Gideon and Barak, David and Samuel, were all people who lived for their nation and God's cause in it. They were God's chosen instruments for doing His redeeming work in His people. Likewise, when in our weakness, we give ourselves to God and others, we have the right to claim God's mighty help.

Faith is not so that we can reap benefits for ourselves from God. Rather, it is for the advancement of Christ's kingdom and the building up of his church. What a work there is to be done! Our involvement in God's church, in his mission beyond it, in our fight against injustice in society and the workplace, in promoting the welfare of all in our schools and public spaces, in our struggle against sin in our own hearts, faith is needed. In all those places and more, weak Christians become heroes of faith as we learn to trust in God to subdue kingdoms, to work righteousness, to obtain promises! Let us offer ourselves to God for the struggle.

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.