Day 56: Exodus 8; Luke 11February 25, 2011


Exodus 8; Luke 11

ONE OF THE MOST STRIKING PICTURES of what might be called a “partial conversion” is found in Luke 11:24-26. Jesus teaches that when an evil spirit comes out of someone, it “goes through arid places seeking rest ant does not find it” – apparently looking for some new person in whom to take up residence. Then the spirit contemplates returning to its previous abode. A reconnoiter finds the former residence surprisingly vacant. The spirit rounds up seven cronies who are even more vile, “and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that man is worse than the first.”

Apparently the man who has been exorcised of the evil spirit never replaced that spirit with anything else. The Holy Spirit did not take up residence in his life; the man simply remained vacant, as it were.

There are three lessons to learn.

First, “partial conversions” are all too common. A person gets partially cleaned up. He or she is drawn close enough to the Gospel and to the people of God that there is some sort of turning away from godlessness, a preliminary infatuation with holiness, an attraction toward righteousness. But like the person represented by rocky soil in the parable of the sower and the soils (8:4-15), this person may initially seem to be the best of the crop, and yet not endure. There has never been the kind of conversion that spells the takeover of an individual by the living God, a reorientation tied to genuine repentance and enduring faith.

The second lesson follows: a little Gospel is a dangerous thing. It gets people to think well of themselves, to sigh with relief that the worst evils have been dissipated, to enjoy a nice sense of belonging. But if a person is not truly justified, regenerated, and transferred from the kingdom of darkness and into the kingdom of God’s dear Son, the dollop of religion may serve as little more than an inoculation against the real thing.

The third lesson is inferential. This passage is thematically tied to another large strand of Scripture. Evil cannot simply be opposed – that is, it is never enough simply to fight evil, to cast out a demon. Evil must be replaced by good, the evil spirit by the Holy Spirit. We must “overcome evil with good” (Rom. 12:21). For instance, it is difficult to overcome bitterness against someone by simply resolving to stop being bitter; one must replace bitterness by genuine forgiveness and love for that person. It is difficult to overcome greed by simply resolving not to be quite so materialistic; one must fasten one’s affections on better treasure (cf. Luke 12:13-21) and learn to be wonderfully and self-sacrificially generous. Overcome evil with good.

via For the Love of God.



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A Tale of Two Corners: Knowledge and MaturityFebruary 24, 2011


In this corner you have our friend Mr. Bookworm. He’s not quite thirty years old. He’s very intelligent. He’s read Calvin, Edwards, Luther, and Bavinck. He knows Warfield and Hodge, Piper and Carson too. Since coming to the Lord in college, Mr. Bookworm has been on fire for learning. He listens to a dozen sermons each week on his iPod. He has a better grasp of current theological debates than most pastors. He loves Chrstian conferences, the good meaty ones. Mr. Bookworm knows all about hermeneutics, propitiation, covenant theology, the regulative principle, and the ordo salutis. He’s even teaching himself a little Greek. Hebrew and Latin are around the corner. Ugaritic, if he’s got time.

Mr. Bookworm is smart, serious about his faith, and genuinely wants to serve the Lord. But he’s twentysomething and not all that mature. In terms of knowledge, he’s playing in the Major Leagues, but as far as wisdom he’s batting below .200 in A ball. He doesn’t have gross sins, just some annoying ones. On the truth-grace scale, he’s all truth. He’s obnoxious, bordering on abrasive. He lacks all sense of proportion. He can’t see that a debate over presuppositional v. evidentialist apologetics is not as serious as Athanasius v. Arianism. Everything is a first-order issue because there are no other kinds of issues.

To make matters worse, Mr. Bookworm talks too much. He sees every conversation as a forensics match waiting to happen. He’s opinionated. He doesn’t ask questions. People are scared of him and he doesn’t know why. Except for those in complete agreement with him, Mr. Bookworm doesn’t have many friends. He’s not trying to be rude or arrogant. In fact, push come to shove he can be a winsome fellow. The problem is he has all this knowledge and doesn’t know how to use it wisely or winsomely.

In the other corner is Mr. Simple-Faith. He’s been a Christian for 40 years. He prays and reads his Bible every day. He’s raised four godly children. He’s been married for over 30 years. He’s quiet, sincere, and well-respected by everyone. But he’s not a huge reader. He never has been. He reads two or three books a year, one of them might be a Christian book, usually something popular and pretty lightweight. Mr. Simple-Faith has decent theological instincts. He knows the Bible is all true, Jesus is the only way to God, hell is real, and we can’t earn our way to heaven. He’s orthodox, but beyond the basics he’s pretty ignorant and, frankly, not very interested.

So who would you rather have as an elder in your church? Mr. Bookworm is more impressive, but Mr. Simple-Faith is probably going to make better decisions and be better received by the members of the congregation. Personally, I’d rather have maturity outpacing knowledge instead of the other way around.

Learning to Drive the Right Ride

It should go without saying that the goal is to have both. A mature Christian with little theological knowledge is not living up to his potential. A knowledgeable Christian without maturity has potential he doesn’t know how to use.

A theologically astute, immature Christian is like a five year old flying an Apache helicopter. Here’s this massive weapon; it can destroy arguments and defend against heresy. It can soar to the heavens and take in glorious sights no one at sea-level will ever witness. This theological helicopter is good for search and rescue, just as good for seek and destroy. Every congregational army would be thrilled with such a vehicle. It’s fast. It’s furious. It’s impressive. But it’s also dangerous. And with a five-year old behind the wheel (or whatever they have in choppers), some people are going to get hurt. It’s not wrong for a little kid to have a helicopter, but it would be nice if he grew up and took some flying lessons before taking the thing out for a spin.

On the other hand, a mature Christian content with the barest theological knowledge is like a 45-year old riding a tricycle. If I had to choose, I’d go with the trike-riding middle-aged man, but only because he’s a little safer than the five-year old fighter pilot. In a perfect world, the 45-year old would learn to ride something for grown-ups. Sure he can get around on the tricycle. But he can’t go very fast or very far. He’s limited in terms of what he can see and experience. He can’t do much to beat back enemies or scale new heights. He’s steady, but not the best he can be.

The goal in Christian discipleship is that we don’t have to choose between kids flying helicopters and adults riding little bikes. We want the most mature pilots flying the most intricate machinery. Our aim is for Mr. Knowledge to grow into Mr. Head-and-Heart and for Mr. Simple-Faith to learn to be Mr. Deep-Truth.

And if our congregations haven’t reached this equilibrium yet, we can at least provide a safety instructor for the kids and kick off the training wheels for the adults.

via Kevin DeYoung.



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Day 55: Exodus 7; Luke 10February 24, 2011


Exodus 7; Luke 10

THE STORY IS TOLD of Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, one of the most influential preachers of the twentieth century. When he was dying of cancer, one of his friends and former associates asked him, in effect, “How are you managing to bear up? You have been accustomed to preaching several times a week. You have begun important Christian enterprises; your influence has extended through tapes and books to Christians on five continents. And now you have been put on the shelf. You are reduced to sitting quietly, sometimes managing a little editing. I am not so much asking therefore how you are coping with the disease itself. Rather, how are you coping with the stress of being out of the swim of things?”

Lloyd-Jones responded in the words of Luke 10: “Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven” (10:20 – though of course Lloyd-Jones would have cited the King James Version).

The quotation was remarkably apposite. The disciples have just returned from a trainee mission, and marvel that “even the demons submit to us in your name” (10:17). At one level, Jesus encourages them. He assures them that (in some visionary experience?) he has seen Satan fall like lightning from heaven (10:18). Apparently Jesus understands this trainee mission by his disciples as a sign, a way-stage, of Satan’s overthrow, accomplished in principle at the cross (cf. Rev. 12:9-12). He tells his disciples that they will witness yet more astonishing things than these (Luke 10:18-19). “However,” he adds (and then come the words quoted by Lloyd-Jones), “do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven” (10:20).

It is so easy to rejoice in success. Our self-identity may become entangled with the fruitfulness of our ministry. Of course, that is dangerous when the success turns sour – but that is not the problem here. Things could not be going better for Jesus’ disciples. And then the danger, of course, is that it is not God who is being worshiped. Our own wonderful acceptance by God himself no longer moves us, but only our apparent success.

This has been the sin of more than a few “successful” pastors, and of no fewer “successful” lay people. While proud of their orthodoxy and while entrusted with a valid mission, they have surreptitiously turned to idolizing something different: success. Few false gods are so deceitful. When faced with such temptations, it is desperately important to rejoice for the best reasons – and there is none better than that our sins are forgiven, and that by God’s own gracious initiative our names have been written in heaven.

Via–For The Love of God



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Day 54: Exodus 6; Luke 9February 23, 2011


Exodus 6; Luke 9

ONE OF THE TASKS IMPOSED ON those who wish to read the canonical Gospels sensitively is to see how the various units are linked. Casual readers remember individual stories about Jesus from their Sunday school days, but do not always reflect on the links that weld these stories into a complete Gospel. Moreover, the individual evangelists did not arrange their material exactly the same way as the others, so the special flavor of each gospel is often lost unless the distinctive links are thoughtfully pondered.

An instructive example is found in Luke 9:49-50. The preceding verses (9:46-48) find Jesus’ disciples arguing as to which of them would be greatest (in the consummated kingdom, presumably). Knowing their thoughts, Jesus teaches them an embarrassing lesson, employing a little child to make his point. Important people honey up to even more important people. Those who follow Jesus welcome the least powerful members of society – the little children. What Jesus demands is an outlook fundamentally at variance with that of the world: “For he who is least among you all – he is the greatest” (9:48).

It is at this juncture that 9:49-50 comes into play. John comments that he and the others saw a man driving out demons in Jesus’ name, “and we tried to stop him, because he is not one of us.” Jesus forbids them this course of action, “for whoever is not against you is for you.” At first glance this is a somewhat different topic from that of the preceding verses. Then again, maybe not: the connections call for reflection. John’s complaints no longer sound like godly concern for orthodoxy, but like power-hungry moaning more concerned that those who preach and heal belong to the right party than that the mission itself be advanced. So this is pathetically tied to the debate over who would be the greatest. Personal aggrandizement will inevitably prove an unstable base for making wise assessments of the ministry of others.

The following verses (9:51-56) find Jesus in Samaria. When the Samaritans prove inhospitable, Jesus’ disciples are quite prepared to call fire down upon them. Jesus rebukes them. Since these verses follow the themes already elucidated, the attitude the disciples here betray is clarified. Their passion for judgment against the Samaritans is motivated less by a genuine grasp of and devotion to Christ Jesus, than by a power-hungry self-focus.

The closing verses of the chapter highlight the same contrast (9:57-62). The three who protest the loudest about how eagerly they will follow Jesus are firmly put in their place: they have not counted the cost of discipleship, and so their pious protestations take on the ugly hue of self-love.



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Day 53: Exodus 5; Luke 8February 22, 2011


Exodus 5; Luke 8;

ACCORDING TO Luke 8:19-21, “Jesus’ mother and brothers came to see him” but were unable to achieve their objective owing to the press of the crowd. Word was passed up to Jesus: “Your mother and brothers are standing outside, wanting to see you” – apparently under the assumption that Jesus himself would make his way to them, or use his authority to ensure that a passage was opened up for them. After all, this was a culture much less individualistic than our own, much more oriented to the family and the extended family.

That is what makes Jesus’ answer astonishing: “My mother and brothers are those who hear God’s word and put it into practice” (8:21). Four things must be said.

First, this is not an isolated passage. Once Jesus begins his public ministry, on no occasion, until the cross, does he betray any slight preference for his own family members, including his mother. In every instance, he either quietly distances himself from them (as here and 11:27-28), or else gently rebukes them (e.g., John 2:1-11). There is no exception. Those who argue that Mary has an inside track into the affections and blessings that only Jesus can bestow cannot responsibly adduce evidence from these texts.

Second, the reasons for Jesus’ conduct are not hard to find. Quite apart from this passage, the Gospels keep drawing attention to Jesus’ uniqueness. In the context of Luke, the familial connection is overshadowed by Jesus’ virginal conception, which is tied to Jesus’ mission and to who he is. Judging by the book of Acts, even Jesus’ natural family had to come to terms, after the resurrection, with who this son and brother of theirs really was, and they became part of the Christian community that worshiped him.

Third, not for a moment does this suggest Jesus was callous toward the feelings of his family. One of the most touching moments in the gospel of John pictures Jesus on the cross, almost with his dying breath providing the care and stability needed to his distraught mother (John 19:26-27).

Fourth, the force of the passage before us must not be missed: Jesus insists that those closest to him, those he “owns” as his, those who have ready access to him, those who are part of his real family, are henceforth not his natural relatives, but “those who hear God’s word and put it into practice” (8:21). Unlike many rulers, Jesus showed no interest in a natural dynasty. Nor was his ultimate focus on his tribe, clan, or nuclear family. He came to call into permanent being the family of God – and they are characterized by the obedient hearing of God’s word.

via For the Love of God.



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Jonathan EdwardsFebruary 21, 2011


Resolved, That I will do whatsoever I think to be most to the glory of God, and my own good, profit, and pleasure, in the whole of my duration; without any consideration of the time, whether now, or never so many myriads of ages hence. Resolved, to do whatever I think to be my duty, and most for the good and advantage of mankind in general. Resolved, so to do, whatever difficulties I meet with, how many soever, and how great soever.

Jonathan Edwards



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Day 52: Exodus 4; Luke 7February 21, 2011


Exodus 4; Luke 7

IN EXODUS 4 two elements introduce complex developments that stretch forward to the rest of the Bible.

The first is the reason God gives as to why Pharaoh will not be impressed by the miracles that Moses performs. God declares, “I will harden his heart so that he will not let the people go” (4:21). During the succeeding chapters, the form of expression varies: not only “I will harden Pharaoh’s heart” (7:3), but also “Pharaoh’s heart became hard” or “was hard” (7:13, 22; 8:19, etc.) and “he hardened his heart” (8:15, 32, etc). No simple pattern is discernible in these references. On the one hand, we cannot say that the pattern works up from “Pharaoh hardened his heart” to “Pharaoh’s heart was hardened” to “God hardened Pharaoh’s heart” (as if God’s hardening were nothing more than the divine judicial confirmation of a pattern the man had chosen for himself); on the other hand, we cannot say that the pattern simply works down from “God hardened Pharaoh’s heart” to “Pharaoh’s heart was hardened” to “Pharaoh hardened his heart” (as if Pharaoh’s self-imposed hardening was nothing more than the inevitable out-working of the divine decree).

Three observations may shed some light on these texts. (a) Granted the Bible’s storyline so far, the assumption is that Pharaoh is already a wicked person. In particular, he has enslaved the covenant people of God. God has not hardened a morally neutral man; he has pronounced judgment on a wicked man. Hell itself is a place where repentance is no longer possible. God’s hardening has the effect of imposing that sentence a little earlier than usual. (b) In all human actions, God is never completely passive: this is a theistic universe, such that “God hardens Pharaoh’s heart” and “Pharaoh hardened his own heart,” far from being disjunctive statements, are mutually complementary. (c) This is not the only passage where this sort of thing is said. See, for instance, 1 Kings 22; Ezekiel 14:9; and above all 2 Thessalonians 2:11-12: “For this reason God sends them a powerful delusion so that they will believe the lie and so that all will be condemned who have not believed the truth but have delighted in wickedness.”

The second forward-looking element is the “son” terminology: “Israel is my firstborn son, and I told you, ‘Let my son go, so he may worship me.’ But you refused to let him go; so I will kill your firstborn son” (Ex. 4:22-23). This first reference to Israel as the son of God develops into a pulsating typology that embraces the Davidic king as the son par excellence, and results in Jesus, the ultimate Son of God, the true Israel and the messianic King.

via For the Love of God.



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Day 51: Exodus 3; Luke 6February 20, 2011


Exodus 3; Luke 6

TWO ELEMENTS IN Exodus 3 demand attention.

The first is the dramatic introduction of “the angel of the LORD” (3:2). Initially, at least, Moses does not perceive an “angel.” The text reads, “There the angel of the LORD appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush” – but this cannot mean that an angelic being appeared within the flames, differentiable from the flames, for what draws Moses’ attention is the bush itself which, though apparently burning, was never consumed. The manifestation of “the angel of the LORD,” then, was apparently in the miraculous flames themselves. Strikingly, when the voice speaks to Moses out of the burning bush, it is not the voice of the angel but the voice of God: “God called to him from within the bush, ‘Moses! Moses!’” (3:4). The ensuing discussion is between God and Moses; there is no further mention of “the angel of the LORD.”

On the face of it, then, this “angel of the LORD” is some manifestation of God himself. We shall have occasion to think through other Old Testament passages where the angel of the Lord appears – sometimes in human form, sometimes not even explicitly called an “angel” (recall the “man” who wrestles with Jacob in Gen. 32), always hauntingly “other,” and always identified in some way with God himself.

We might well ask if, when the text before us records that “God said,” it really means no more than that God spoke through this angelic messenger: after all, if the messenger speaks the words of God, then in a sense it is God himself who is speaking. But the biblical manifestations of “the angel of the LORD” do not easily fit into so neat and simplistic an explanation. It is almost as if the biblical writers want to stipulate that God himself appeared, while distancing this transcendent God from any mere appearance. The angel of the Lord remains an enigmatic figure who is identified with God, yet separable from him – an early announcement, as it were, of the eternal Word who became flesh, simultaneously God’s own fellow and God’s own self (John 1:1, 14).

The second element is even more important, though I can assign it only the briefest comment here. The name of God (3:13-14) may be rendered “I AM WHO I AM,” as it is in the NIV, or “I will be what I will be.” In Hebrew, the abbreviated form “I am” is related in some fashion to YHWH, often spelled out as Yahweh (and commonly rendered “LORD,” in capital letters; the same Hebrew letters stand behind English Jehovah). The least that this name suggests is that God is self-existent, eternal, completely independent, and utterly sovereign: God is what he is, dependent on no one and nothing.

via For the Love of God.



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Day 50: Exodus 2; Luke 5February 19, 2011


Exodus 2; Luke 5

IN THE MOST CRUCIAL EVENTS IN REDEMPTIVE HISTORY, God takes considerable pains to ensure that no one can properly conclude that these events have been brought about by human resolve or wit. They have been brought about by God himself – on his timing, according to his plan, by his means, for his glory – yet in interaction with his people. All of this falls out of Exodus 2:11-25.

The account is brief. It does not tell us how Moses’ mother managed to instill in him a profound sense of identity with his own people before he was brought up in the royal household. Perhaps he enjoyed ongoing contact with his birth mother; perhaps as a young man he delved into his past, and thoroughly investigated the status and subjugation of his own people. We are introduced to Moses when he has already so identified with the enslaved Israelites that he is prepared to murder a brutal Egyptian slave overlord. When he discovers that the murder he committed has become public knowledge, he must flee for his life.

Yet one cannot help reflecting on the place of this episode in the plotline that leads to Moses’ leadership of the Exodus some decades later. By God’s own judicial action, many Egyptians would then die. So why doesn’t God use Moses now, while he is still a young man, full of zeal and eagerness to serve and emancipate his people?

It simply isn’t God’s way. God wants Moses to learn meekness and humility, to rely on God’s powerful and spectacular intervention, to await God’s timing. He acts in such a way that no one will be able to say that the real hero is Moses, the great visionary. By the time he is eighty, Moses does not want to serve in this way, he is no longer an idealistic, fiery visionary. He is an old man whom God almost cajoles (Ex. 3) and even threatens (Ex. 4:14) into obedience. There is therefore no hero but God, and no glory for anyone other than God.

The chapter ends by recording that “the Israelites groaned in their slavery and cried out, and their cry for help because of their slavery went up to God. God heard their groaning and he remembered his covenant with Abraham” (2:23-24). This does not mean that God had forgotten his covenant. We have already seen that God explicitly told Jacob to descend into Egypt and foretold that God would one day bring out the covenantal plan. The same God who sovereignly arranges these matters and solemnly predicts what he will do, chooses to bring about the fulfillment of these promises by personally interacting with his covenantal people in their distress, responding to their cry.

via For the Love of God.



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Suffering and GloryFebruary 18, 2011


Romans 8:18-25

Living in this world means suffering. But for the believer suffering and glory belong together. In describing our suffering, Paul is holding a scale before us. Not a bathroom scale, but an ancient scale; one that balanced one weight against the other. On the one side, Paul places all the suffering that Christians will endure on this side of eternity. On the other side of the scale, Paul places our future glory. What does our suffering weigh? How does this compare with the weight of our future glory? 2 Corinthians 4:17 says, “For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.” For believers, all present suffering is light and momentary. Our future glory is weighty and eternal.

The Reality of Suffering in the Christian Life

That might seem insensitive, idealistic or even unrealistic. What is light and momentary about life long chronic pain? What is light and momentary about crippling arthritis? What is light and momentary about the death of a loved one? What is light and momentary about being imprisoned unjustly? I come from a family where I am the first generation to have been born without persecution. My parents witnessed and experienced famine, starvation, torture and war. So did their parents. Growing up and hearing their stories have left me with the lasting impression that peace on this earth is the anomaly, that suffering is its normal state to which it always returns, as water to the lowest place.

Philippians 1:29 asserts that it has been graciously granted to us that we should not only believe in Christ, but suffer for his sake. This includes the call to bear the cross of discipleship, for Christ will always be opposed and his followers will always be hated. I have heard many such stories from parishioners in the international church where I pastor. In their culture, shame is the ultimate ignominy, and they are told they have brought shame to their family. The very first step of conversion, which we frequently celebrate with unbridled joy, has come to them with the taste of a crushing load grief. While many of us cannot identify with that, we must remember that the call to suffering always comes about when one takes the commands for obedience seriously. It may come as we struggle with sin, as we seek faithfulness in an unfaithful world or it may come in the form of persecution. The Bible promises, that however it comes, it will come. That is Christ’s promise (Matthew 24:9, John 15:18-21, 16:33, etc).

How Should Christians Respond to the Reality of Suffering?

The book of Hebrews tells us, that for Christians, all suffering, and that includes illness and tragedy, is actually God’s discipline. Not punishment – discipline. In fact, the call to suffering is God’s way of treating us as sons. It is a mark we bear which identifies us as his own. If we don’t suffer, we are illegitimate children.

None of this belittles the suffering of the child of God, indeed, it elevates it. And what is more, Christ cares. He weeps for and with his children, for he understands our suffering. But he graciously sends it, for he knows that it is necessary for our long term good. To see the long-term benefits, we must compare our present experience with suffering to the pleasure in eternity. And so Paul holds a scale before us, and we are given an exercise of faith. Weigh our suffering on one side, and then on the other place the weight of eternity.

One simply can’t compare the sorrow of the moment to the joy before us. Indeed, Jesus himself was able to endure the cross because of the joy set before him. (Hebrews 12:2) We must think of this often. And so, in Romans 8:18, Paul begins with the words “I consider”. In the Greek, “consider” is actually a mathematical word, a word for calculating a sum. Place on one side of a scale the present suffering and then place one’s future glory on the other side. Now calculate the difference of weight. Will not the present suffering be so small, as to render it inconsequential in comparison? Whenever any believer passes through the portal of death; there is at that moment an outburst of beauty, of inexpressible joy, of delight, of soul rapture – that is so profound and real and everlasting – and heavy – that even the greatest suffering of this world is light in comparison.

All of Creation is Fixated on Future Glory

This thought is intended to make us yearn for eternity. But, surprising as it might seem, not only are we yearning for eternity, so also, says the apostle, is the creation. Many of us remember the earlier space launches. The old Apollo space ships included booster rockets, fuel tanks and all sorts of things that were all jettisoned after hurling a tiny little manned capsule into orbit. Some of us think of eternity in that fashion. “It’s all going to burn”, we say. And by that, we tend to discount the meaning of our experiences with the creation.

But, Paul speaks of an eager longing in creation. The word comes from a root word which means “craning of the neck.” I find that I understand that word. Since I am only 5’9”, every time I am in a crowd, someone 6’1” is always standing in front of me. It must be Murphy’s Law. So I end up stretching out my neck as far as I can, leaning over from side to side, even jumping up and down to see what now is partially obscured.

And that is precisely what creation is doing. It is craning the neck for an event which is just ahead. But now comes the really stunning part. We might assume the event is the second coming of Jesus, and of course it is. But that is not what the text says. Rather, creation is jumping up and down, straining its neck for the revealing of the sons of God. What believers presently are is not what we shall be, and this leaves creation trembling, anticipating, and breathless. Why? Because when we are freed, creation will be freed too!

When the first European explorers came down the St. Laurence River, it was then so abundant with fish, that the sailors could lower wicker baskets on ropes from the side of the ship, and then, as they lifted them from the water, they would be full of fish. Imagine that! Today, the St. Laurence is dead seaway. What now is but a shadow of what once was. And if one listens carefully, one can hear the St. Laurence groaning. This is but a faint picture of the world before sin, a world so pulsating with the dynamism of life has been reduced to but a faint image of its former glory.

How did that happen? Our passage says it was deliberately subjected to futility. Indeed, the futility of the earth comes from the hand of God. The very God who pronounced his creation good, has also created a world that would need a cross, need a savior, need redemption. It was God who cursed the creation after the fall. And it is God himself who will redeem it.

The Need for Perspective

Why is all of this so important? It is important because apart from faith, all suffering, all evil, all futility, all disappointment is meaningless and but a sign of death. But in Christ, sufferings are not the final cries in an empty universe, but are rather the rich, anticipatory cries that are the prelude to joy, life, freedom and fulfillment.

Years ago, I read about a product being marketed that never quite took off. For those individuals who were trying to diet, but who loved fattening foods, one could spray a little taste of ice cream, or pie, or chocolate onto ones tongue. The idea was that one could have the taste without eating the food. In theory, just the taste would satisfy you. But if anyone is like me, the taste of chocolate on my tongue makes me want to break into a chocolate factory and sate my appetite. A foretaste never makes me say, “That is enough.” A foretaste only whets my appetite.

That is the idea in Romans 8:23. Of course, the word in Romans 8:23 is not the word, “foretaste,” but is the word “firstfruit.” I have deliberately substituted one word for the other not to give a false sense of what the scripture says, but to help get the point. In the Old Testament, the idea of a firstfruit comes from the idea of offering. At the beginning of the harvest – the worshiper took the firstfruit of his harvest and offered it to God, and in faith – knowing that there was an abundance more to come in. So – in the same way – having the Holy Spirit living in your life is a firstfruit, or a down payment – or a foretaste – of an abundance to come in. Right now, the Holy Spirit has begun preparing us for our future glory. He has given us life and peace (Romans 8:6), the power to kill sin in our lives (Romans 8:13), and the assurance of our adoption (Romans 8:15). And yet…all of this is just the beginning! God’s people are groaning- with joy and anticipation-until we get the whole thing.

The temptation to forget our future glory is a constant threat, to which many Christians succumb. Yet in Romans 8:18-25, the Lord is calling us to keep our eyes fixed on the age to come. Future glory awaits! And…just in case you didn’t know it, that is the reason for our suffering. God doesn’t want you to put your hope in things on this side of eternity. So that you won’t spend your life settling for lesser treasures, God has His children to groan for eternity. And then, our present suffering will seem light and momentary against the weight of eternity.

via Suffering and Glory – The Gospel Coalition.



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