Jonathan Evans

"Show me"

At times we can be found as Christians living before God as young children playing hide and seek with their parents: if we can’t see them, they can’t see us. 

 

How often we are aware of something in our heart that we know we need to bring to light, to reveal, to confess and repent of, but we cover our eyes and believe that if we’re not looking at it, God isn’t either. “If it were a big deal,” we reason, “God would bring it up.”

 

So we choose to turn away, to ignore, to minimize, to push what we don't want seen behind whatever it is we do. At times God mercifully comes anyway and, like a good father, brings up and brings out those things that we didn’t want to look at or hear about.

 

But, also like a good father, sometimes he mercifully doesn't. Instead, he’ll wait for us to bring up what he’s known is there all along. In fact, as we grow and mature, this expectation becomes one of our primary responsibilities.

 

It’s one thing to be shown your heart. It's another to ask to be shown your heart. “Search me, oh God, and know my heart!…And see if there be any grievous way in me…” (Psalm 139). See, show me, if there is any wicked way in me.

 

It’s one thing for us to come to God and see what he will do. It’s another for us to come and seek what God will do—to seek to know his will, to seek to do his will, to seek for his will to be done. 

 

“Ask and it will be given to you” (Matthew 7:7) includes the things we ask and want to be left unseen; “You have not, because you ask not” (James 4:2) includes the things God is wanting and waiting for you to see.

Listening is an act of faith

 

Listening is an act of faith. It is being awake to God and his speaking personally to us. It is being aware of God and that he is personally present with us. Wakefulness, watchfulness are conditions for listening. Too often, though, we are disciples asleep, unaware, unconvinced that God is in this place.

 

"Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me?” (John 14:9)  

 

It is much easier to think of faith as an act of speaking on our part, of God waiting on us. And so it often is. Just as often, though, it is an act of not speaking on our part, of our waiting on God. The faith to wait is as vibrant as the faith to move.

 

In fact, our faith both moves and is moved. By the time my faith moves to listen to God, I realize God has already made the first move and drawn me to himself.

 

In many ways, listening by faith is like surrendering by faith. By the time God asks you to surrender all, you realize that you’ve already given him all. This last act of surrender is simply the culmination of an ongoing series of acts, of surrendering a little bit of yourself at a time.

 

So listening is ongoing. Little by little knowing more and more. Those who wait until they come to a sermon to listen for God will find it difficult to hear him. But those whose listening is ongoing daily will come and find it easy to hear him.  

 

For all of us who come to the preaching of God’s Word, we can either sit and wait for something to grab our attention or we can come already attentive to “God with us". We can come fully awake, aware, and ready to listen in on the ongoing conversation of God with us, to receive the living and active word of God deep into our hearts. 

 

“Take care then how you hear, for to the one who has, more will be given, and from the one who has not, even what he thinks that he has will be taken away.” (Luke 8:18)

The joy of being a Christian is not that God has secured what I want

 

The gospel doesn’t provide a sanctified form of humanism where I can live exclusively for myself. Rather, the gospel provides a new sanctified way of living beyond myself for God by His grace.

 

Today we sing, preach, write, and pray in a direction that moves us away from a world filled with God’s glory, existing for God, and towards a world filled with man’s glory, existing for man. God’s glory is in my glory, to make me happy, to make me flourish, to answer all my prayers, to fulfill all my dreams. God is re-fashioned in my image, that is, whatever I want for myself is surely a reflection of what God wants for me, what God has destined, called, and equipped me for attaining.

 

But man is created in God’s image. Whatever God wants for man is to be reflected in man wanting God – first, last, most. My glory is to receive, to rejoice in, and to reflect God’s glory. To share in his glory is to exult in his glory filling the whole earth!

 

The joy of being a Christian is not that God has secured everything I want from him, but that God has secured me for himself in Jesus Christ.

 

My ultimate happiness is now found in something that transcends this world and its material benefits: God's kingdom and will. It’s not that I can’t, shouldn't or don’t enjoy this world’s benefits, but that they are not the end of the world’s existence, the goal of God’s creation, the apex of man’s salvation.

Being a Christian doesn’t compensate for my sin

 

A Christian who sins needs God's forgiveness as much as anyone who is not a Christian. But there are some important distinctions that as a Christian I should believe and hold to.

 

1. I believe I have sinned. I come under the conviction of the Holy Spirit. I am convinced of my sin. Godly grief settles in and produces the proper effect (fruit) of repentance. (Matthew 3:8; 2 Corinthians 7:10) 
   
   
   
2. I believe I must seek forgiveness. So I confess my sin to Jesus, because sin is not forgiven automatically (1 John 1:9). “(T)he righteousness of the righteous shall not deliver him when he transgresses…and the righteous shall not be able to live by his righteousness when he sins.” (Ezekiel 33:12)
   
   
   
3. I believe I need forgiveness. Sin separates me from God, from his good (and holy) intentions for me, and from others. God’s love isn’t a way of comforting me and convincing me that I’m okay; its his way of convincing me that I’m not okay, and yet comforting me with the truth that it can be made okay.
   
   
   
4. I believe I can find forgiveness. Although I have sinned against God, I have a Savior, an Advocate, a Substitute in Jesus Christ. Because God looks on him, God desires and is able and ready to forgive me. I need only to also turn and look on Jesus, "the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world!" (John 1:29)
   
   
   
5. I believe I am forgiven. My sins have been removed, as far as the east is from the west; my heart has been washed as white as snow; I am united to Christ, justified before God, a temple of the Holy Spirit. "I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." (Galatians 2:20)
   
   
   
6. I regret sinning, but not leaving my sin. True repentance is without regret (2 Corinthians 7:10), that is, it doesn’t look back with sadness, with a sense of loss over the sin it's leaving behind, but it looks forward with joy, with earnestness and with eagerness, with a sense of longing and with anticipation, to Jesus, our Salvation. Through him we are brought home to God and God is brought home to us. 

 

Being a Christian doesn’t compensate for my sin. Only being in Jesus Christ my sin is paid for and forgiven. And Jesus always forgives us of our sins with the intention of changing us, of transforming us, even by one degree. And the heart that truly confesses and repents of sin always seeks forgiveness with the expectation of being changed, the promise and assurance that change from the bottom up and from the inside out is possible through the power of the blood of Jesus.

Let another praise you

 

“Let another praise you, and not your own mouth; a stranger, and not your own lips.” Proverbs 27:2

 

Our natural inclination is to be first, uppermost, best, happiest; and coupled with that is our desire that everyone know it. I preach a sermon, but is that enough? Or do I need to know what others think, in particular how good they think it was (because, of course, I assume it was good). 

 

I meet a famous person, but is that enough? Or am I unhappy until I drop the name, so that others can know, hear, see it? 

 

I accomplish something; I succeed at something; I’m good at something, but is that enough? Or do I feel unrewarded until others comment, like, share, favorite, retweet?

 

The Proverb doesn’t forbid accepting praise. It forbids self-praise. It is attempting to protect the one who has succeeded, and is admired or celebrated for it, from self-deception and, therefore, from self-destruction. No one who praises themselves, who boasts in themselves, is ever thought of as highly by others as they think of themselves.

 

For Christians, the stakes are higher. It is not possible to believe both that we deserve glory and that God deserves glory (John 5:44). One wins out over the other, and determines the direction and destination of our lives. Because praise is ultimately about which way you live: vertically or horizontally?

 

The more I seek, receive, and enjoy praise from myself and/or from others, the more engrained these patterns of selfishness become. I come to anticipate the pleasure of the reward of praise before it actually arrives, which makes disappointment all the more bitter and hard to believe. Anyone who posts to social media has no doubt experienced a surge of pleasure before they check their account.

 

It is a fearful, dangerous, and shameful thing to find more joy in the “arms” of an audience (crowd, congregation, followers, customers, etc.) than in the arms of my spouse and my children; and especially more than in the arms of Jesus, my Savior, in comparison to whom all other glories, honors, and praises wither and fade.

 

A German proverb says, “self-praise stinks, a friend’s praise limps, a stranger’s praise rings”.  And Solomon writes later in this Proverb, “The crucible is for silver, and the furnace is for gold, and a man is tested by his praise.” (27:21)  Praise is inescapable, but not its effect upon me and within me. Praise does something to me, even while it does something for me. But praise is no utilitarian pursuit; it is that which reveals what kind of man I really am, and as a Christian what kind of worshipper I truly am. 

Don't use Scripture, treasure it.

  

 

"Your commandment makes me wiser than my enemies, for it is ever with me. I have more understanding than all my teachers, for your testimonies are my meditation. I understand more than the aged, for I keep your precepts." Psalm 119:98-100

 

Too often, for many of us, reading and studying Scripture becomes a tool which we use to outwit our opponents, critique culture, evaluate sermonic soundness (truth), and test other Christians’ spiritual growth.

 

To be sure, the Psalmist does say that God’s word makes him wiser than his enemies, a step ahead of those who oppose or persecute him; cultivates in him a more insightful understanding than those who teach him or others God’s word; and enables him to possess a more comprehensive knowledge than those who are respected for their spiritual position and longevity in the community.

 

But, to be sure, these things are not the reasons for which the Psalmist meditates on God’s word. He doesn’t keep God’s precepts in order to be wise beyond his age, his teachers or his enemies. Rather, these things are the unintended, even unasked for, results of loving God’s Word, of loving God first.

 

If I use Scripture to get wisdom, I become arrogant. If I treasure Scripture to know God, I become wise.

Beyond words, but not apart from words

 

Dear Christian,

 

We read the Bible to remember that God With Us (Matthew 1:23) has acted in history, in time, and what he has done in Jesus. We see that we're a part of a story that is timeless, that doesn't end in time, on earth, but is written from eternity to eternity. It's a story bigger than any one of us that yet includes each one of us.

 

We read the Bible to realize that God's activity is not something centered around my individual life but someone focused exclusively on Jesus Christ: God Himself is set on exalting Jesus on earth from beginning to end – past, present, future.

 

We read the Bible to recognize that my life and yours are created, formed, and made to be a reflection of the greatness, majesty, and glory of God. Our life saved from sin is being recreated, reformed, remade into the perfect image of God, Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 4:4; Colossians 1:15; Hebrews 1:3), and is called into and empowered for full participation in his kingdom. We not only read this in the word of God but we live this through The Word of God, Jesus Christ (Revelation 19:13; John 1:1, 14), to whom the whole Bible is pointing and in whom the whole Bible is fulfilled.

 

We read the Bible to respond to a God who speaks. Exceeding, and more exhilarating than, a perfect day is hearing one word from God. Anyone in a significant relationship knows that conversation is better than a thousand gifts and that a thousand gifts without a meaningful conversation are meaningless. To listen to the voice of the one you love, of the one who loves you, is fulfilling beyond words, but not apart from words.

 

Listen closely, read slowly.

Have faith in God, not in time

 

If God promises me that he will do something "tomorrow”, I will likely wait patiently for today to pass. But if God is more vague and says, “soon”, I will likely become impatient. If I know God is going to do something anyway, what harm is there in rushing it a little? 

 

The witches have told Macbeth that he will one day become king. So why wait? Why not today? Isn't it all the same? Perhaps faith in fate is not me waiting for things to unfold but rather, in faith, acting and taking hold of things. Macbeth murders King Duncan.

 

Young David is anointed future king of Israel by the prophet Samuel (1 Samuel 16:12-13). But David will wait over 20 years for this to fully come to pass. Although during those long, trying years he has several opportunities to kill the current king and cut short the waiting, he refuses. He has faith in God, not in fate or time.

 

Often we wait for God because we can’t do anything about our circumstances. But how often do we wait precisely because we can change things? The temptation to play God, to force God’s hand, to get ahead of God is attractive. Isn’t faith refusing to let things stay the way they are?

 

Time is a funny thing. We like to manage it and be productive. It makes us believe, feel that we're powerful; that we can control our lives; that we can plan for what’s coming tomorrow (James 4:13-14); that we can add hours to our days and days to our lives (Matthew 6:27; Psalm 139:16). But in the end we can't use time to impose our will, or dominate our lives, or speed things up.

 

Watching humanity exist in technologically primitive or underdeveloped cultures, we easily feel like they're wasting time. When our plans fail or our dreams take longer than we pray they will, we feel like we're "wasting time" or that "time is passing me by". But these feelings, beliefs, are often a misplacement of our trust in God; they betray our trust in our activity, busyness, productivity, technology, management. Not that these are wrong, but that they're not God's parting gift to a now mature, ready, self-sufficient humanity.

 

Has God given us everything we need, in order that we should no longer need him? Is the world and all that is in it a substitute for God, his word, his Spirit? Has he created and saved us to work, be productive, and be successful in recognition of him, a tipping of the hat, but not in worship to him, a surrendering of our life? 

 

If time is only a resource by which we seize opportunity, then how we manage it is of paramount importance. But if time is the revealing and ordering of God’s will, then how we live in time is of paramount importance.  

 

David “served the purpose of God in his own generation” (Acts 13:36), a purpose that included the times of waiting in David’s life – nearly a third of his life. Ultimately, his life, my life, your life, our time, is not for God’s purposes for us but for his purposes for us for him – his name, his glory, his will, and his kingdom. 

 

It was in the fullness of time – a fullness that includes not only the past but the present and the future – that God sent Jesus Christ into the world (Ephesians 1:10; Galatians 4:4), which means that time is not left to blind, random or automated fate, but that God is eternal, in eternity, and time is his servant, not ours.

Prayer is never optional

 

"Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God." (Revelation 3:2) 

 

These are Jesus' words to the church at Sardis, calling them out of spiritual death (yes, it can happen) into new spiritual life (yes, it can happen). Not that many years had passed between the church in Acts 2 and Pentecost, and the church in Revelation 3 and Patmos (the place John is writing from), yet Jesus still must warn them to "Wake up".

 

And he (Jesus) came and found them sleeping, and he said to Peter, “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” (Mark 14:37-38) 

 

The disciples of Jesus had long been with him, and seen and heard all that he did, yet Jesus still needs to stir them up to "Watch and pray”. 

 

It doesn't take long for neither Christians of any spiritual maturity nor for the church of Jesus Christ in any century, to slip into sleepiness or lukewarmness. 

 

Prayer is, therefore, that which must be consistently engaged in at all costs, in all times. 

 

Prayer is not simply the guiding principle of our lives – when we need an answer or are in trouble – but prayer is the operational principle of our lives. It keeps us alert and aware; makes us present and sensitive to God, to His will, and to His kingdom.

 

Prayer is never optional for the people of God. Praying is not simply a question of "staying alive", but of being alive. The life of Jesus and of the Spirit both "pushes" (urges) us towards prayer and "pulls" (attracts) us into prayer.

 

It is a good day to pray!

Unforced delight

 

I haven’t always enjoyed sunsets. There was a time when the idea of sitting on the shore of Lake Ontario would have been boring, the farthest thing from fun in my mind. Today, when I watch from my front porch the colors filling up the sky, the hardest thing for me to do is to not grab my keys and drive towards 10 1/2 Street.

 

Delight, true delight, is unforced. Without being commanded to, it arises out of the heart freely.

 

Blessed is the man who… his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. (Psalm 1:1-2)

 

When the Psalmist says that he meditates on the law, God’s instruction, “day and night”, does he mean that every thought originating in his mind is all day and all night focused only on God’s word? 

 

It cannot be that every thought, both day and night, is directed towards God’s law. 

 

To meditate on God’s word is not simply, not only, to direct one’s thoughts as a matter of discipline, obedience, love, worship. There is that. But underneath meditating or thinking is delight. 

 

The Psalmist is becoming aware that during the hours making up the day and the night, he finds himself thinking about God’s law. His thoughts are arising naturally, freely, uncoerced, unforced towards God’s law. When, for example, the day’s labors are finished and he sits to rest, free to turn his mind to whatever he wishes, his mind turns to God’s word. His thoughts run after his desires; his meditation runs after his delight. 

 

No one obligates you to do what you delight in. You do it freely, without external compulsion or obligation. (I’d like a cup of coffee, dark roast, french-pressed, please.) So it is to be with God’s people and God’s word. To not delight in God’s law is to find that you are never or rarely thinking about God and his word freely or spontaneously. It isn’t that God precludes you from thinking of other things; his word doesn’t exclude other things from being delighted in (Philippians 4:8); but to delight in God’s word is to find yourself, your soul, your entire being, being drawn to God and to his word during both the day and night hours. You’re thinking about him, feeling towards him, talking with him, not only because you plan to, but also because you didn't plan to – suddenly and unexpectedly, your activity or rest is interrupted and flooded with thoughts of God and of his word. There’s coming into existence a life, a new way of living, where you no longer are disinterested or unfeeling towards the Bible, but now can’t begin to imagine or enjoy life without God and without a delight in his word.

 

Delight closes the distance between your heart and God’s word. To finally “see” the beauty in one sunset is to long for the next, to think about seeing it, and savoring it, again.