Viewing the World through God's Word

Category: 2 Corinthians (Page 3 of 3)

Captive in Triumphal Procession

Held by Iran for 444 days, released U.S. hostages were thrown a New York City ticker-tape parade in 1981.

A man celebrates the U.S. hostages released after being held captive for 444 days in Iran. The group was thrown a parade in 1981.

Paul’s parade was different.  First,  a bit of his itinerary . . .

“Now when I went to Troas to preach the gospel of Christ and found that the Lord had opened a door for me,  I still had no peace of mind, because I did not find my brother Titus there. So I said good-bye to them and went on to Macedonia” (2 Corinthians 2:12,13).

Paul finds the Lord has opened a door of opportunity to “preach the gospel of Christ” in Troas (today’s Turkey).  But he wants the Corinthians to know he genuinely cares for them.  So he tells them, “I still had no peace of mind, because I did not find my brother Titus there.”  Earlier, Paul had dispatched Titus to Corinth to discover how the church had received his letter.  So, desperate to know, Paul “said goodbye to” Troas “and went on to Macedonia” across the Aegean Sea.  There he finally meets up with Titus, who reports how the Corinthians humbly repented and how much they cared about Paul (2 Corinthians 7:6-9).

Buoyed by Titus’ good news, Paul bursts out in thanks to God.  It’s the start of a long digression which reveals more of Paul’s mind and heart . . .

But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him.  For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing.  To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life. And who is equal to such a task?  Unlike so many, we do not peddle the word of God for profit. On the contrary, in Christ we speak before God with sincerity, like men sent from God. (2 Corinthians 2:14-17).

Paul thanks God “who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ . . . “  This is more than Paul’s rejoicing over Titus’ report; this is Paul explaining  his “captivity by God in Christ and how God spreads the gospel through him.

Customarily, a victorious Roman general led his conquered captives (through conquered territory or through Rome’s streets) in “triumphal procession” on their way to execution.

Image result for Roman generals leading war captives in triumphal procession pictures

To Paul, God in Christ is the conquering general.  He’s the captive.  But the picture’s a paradox.  Paul’s been captured to preach the gospel, and God empowers him to do it effectively.  But spreading the gospel demands significant suffering.  Paul “is not saying he is being led around in triumph, but rather that, like the captives in a triumphal process, he is being treated rudely while in the service of God” (Ben Witherington, Professor of New Testament Interpretation, Asbury Theological Seminary, Wilmore, Kentucky).

“For it seems to me that God has put us apostles on display at the end of the procession, like men condemned to die in the arena. We have been made a spectacle to the whole universe, to angels as well as to men” (2 Corinthians 4:9).

Paul explains the reason for “thanks be to God”  . . .

“For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life. And who is equal to such a task?” (2 Corinthians 2:15,16).

Customarily, captives being led in this procession spread incense along the way.  So Paul pictures his gospel proclamation as a powerful fragrance.  “ . . . as God drags Paul around as his slave, the knowledge of Christ emanates from Paul wherever he goes” (Witherington).

Despite mistreatment Paul himself is the fragrance that pleases God.  Two, there are two groups of human hearers, divided by the gospel itself. 

“To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life.”

Paul’s gospel is “an alluring perfume, a spiritual oxygen that breathes life into their souls; to the other, a stench in their nostrils, a spiritual cyanide that suffocates and poisons them to death” (Sam Storms, Lead Pastor at Bridgeway Church in Oklahoma City, quoting Clement).

Unlike so many, we do not peddle the word of God for profit. On the contrary, in Christ we speak before God with sincerity, like men sent from God. (2 Corinthians 2:17).

 At the end of the previous verse, Paul asked rhetorically, “And who is equal to such a task?”—meaning, “Who is adequate to preach so powerfully that hearers are either saved or damned?”

The answer is, “No one.”  So, if he’s inadequate to do the job, why not just preach for personal profit?  Paul will not “peddle the word of God for profit.”  The noun form of that Greek word (kapelos) refers to a merchant who regularly cheats customers by misrepresenting his product.  Paul’s preaching, to the contrary, is marked by four qualities . . .

  1.  He speaks “with sincerity”–that is, with pure motives wanting only that people understand the gospel.
  2. He speaks “before God”–that is, with the knowledge that God himself is hearing and judging him.
  3. He speaks “in Christ”–that is, out of his living union with the Messiah.
  4. He speak “sent from God”–that is, he speaks God’s gospel as God’s spokesman.

 * * *

Though we’re not apostles and not commissioned to preach the gospel as they, we too are captives of God in his triumphal procession in Christ.  In other words, by saving us, God captures us.  He leads us with his other “captives” in “triumphal procession”–triumphal because he saves us from sin and death.  But he saves us to become part of his mission–the spreading of the good news of Jesus Christ.

Through his Word and Spirit, he makes us “the aroma of Christ.”  Christ is the “fragrance.”  And we are to please God by spreading “the fragrance of the knowledge of [Christ].”   This spreading (which has its source in God) is our mission.  But this mission is war.  Personal suffering is part of the battle.  I have two concluding thoughts . . .

Here’s one.  Since I’ve retired and become disabled, I’ve doubted my significance.  What’s my purpose?  What can I do?  What am I here for?  Paul’s answer:  I’m hear to spread the fragrance of the knowledge of Christ.  And one way I do that is through this blog.  “O God, may I faithfully tell Christ’s gospel, so believers are strengthened in the faith and unbelievers (who may stumble on the site) get captured too.”

Here’s the second.  In a busy life in a culture closed to the gospel, we forget we’re on a mission.  “Lord, enable us to see ourselves as captives in your triumphal procession.”

And one final (really) thought:  We’re captives in Christ’s triumphal procession . . .




 

Ought to Forgive

Confession #1: I can count on ten fingers the number of times in 44 years of pastoring I exercised church discipline.  Confession #2:  The older I get, the harder forgiveness becomes.

I’d better explain.  First, church discipline.  By that I mean church elders calling a church member to repent of his sin. What sin?   Not just any sin, but “something so evil that even the pagans don’t do it” (1 Corinthians 5:1,2).  Or a sin that a member has refused to repent of  (Matthew 18:15-18).  Many church leaders argue that doctrinal error also calls for church discipline.  I agree, but argue the doctrine must be foundation (such as the deity of Christ), not controversial (details of Last Day events).   The goal, of course, is always restoration.

Second, forgiveness.  I guess I find forgiveness harder now because my age and illness tend to make me a grumpy old man.   I feel weak and vulnerable.  So, when someone hurts me or one I love, I retaliate.  And at at this point, my only means is to withhold forgiveness (as if that hurts my offender!).

Now. I drone on like this because in today’s text, 2 Corinthians 2:5-11, Paul touches on both church discipline and forgiveness.  Let’s set the scene . . .

Paul had heard of urgent troubles in the Corinthian church and decided to make an unannounced visit.  It didn’t go well.  Whatever happened, Paul retreated quickly to Ephesus.  From there he wrote a letter (lost to us) calling for the church to repent and to discipline one offender in particular. In 2 Corinthians 7:8-13,  Paul refers to that letter . . .

I am no longer sorry that I sent that letter to you, though I was sorry for a time, for I know that it was painful to you for a little while. Now I am glad I sent it, not because it hurt you, but because the pain caused you to have remorse and change your ways. It was the kind of sorrow God wants his people to have, so you were not harmed by us in any way.  For God can use sorrow in our lives to help us turn away from sin and seek salvation. We will never regret that kind of sorrow. But sorrow without repentance is the kind that results in death.  Just see what this godly sorrow produced in you! Such earnestness, such concern to clear yourselves, such indignation, such alarm, such longing to see me, such zeal, and such a readiness to punish the wrongdoer. You showed that you have done everything you could to make things right.  My purpose was not to write about who did the wrong or who was wronged. I wrote to you so that in the sight of God you could show how much you really do care for us.  We have been encouraged by this.  In addition to our own encouragement, we were especially delighted to see how happy Titus was at the way you welcomed him and set his mind at ease (NLT).

Years ago commentators supposed the chief offender to be the incestuous man of 1 Corinthians 5.  More recently commentators hold him to be a particularly boisterous adversary of Paul who was leading the church into some of the sins Paul confronts in 1 Corinthians.  Whoever he was and whatever wrongs he’d committed, the church repented and disciplined the offender.  Apparently, he too had repented.  Now, Paul urges, it’s time to forgive him . . .

If anyone has caused grief, he has not so much grieved me as he has grieved all of you, to some extent– not to put it too severely. The punishment inflicted on him by the majority is sufficient for him.  Now instead, you ought to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow.  I urge you, therefore, to reaffirm your love for him. The reason I wrote you was to see if you would stand the test and be obedient in everything. If you forgive anyone, I also forgive him. And what I have forgiven– if there was anything to forgive– I have forgiven in the sight of Christ for your sake, in order that Satan might not outwit us. For we are not unaware of his schemes (2 Corinthians 2:5-11).

A few points call for comment . . .

PAUL’S CONCERN FOR THE PENITENT OFFENDER.

” . . . you ought to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow.”  However egregious the sin or stubborn the sinner, he’s repented.  He mustn’t be left drowning in sorrow outside the church community.  Again, the goal of church discipline is restoration.  Every confessed sin, however evil, must be forgiven by the church because it is by Christ.   This seems inapplicable to us, because these days a church-disciplined member simply picks up his Bible and joins the church down the street.

PASTOR AND ELDERS SHOULD BE THE “FIRST FORGIVERS.”

I get that from Paul writing, “I have forgiven [him] in the sight of Christ for your sake . . . ”  I say be the “first forgivers” like the “first responders.”  Get it?  The leaders set the forgiveness example, even if they have been especially sinned against.  If any leader holds a grudge, it will grow into bitterness.  And bitterness becomes known.  And spreads.  Soon a whole group hold hard hearts against the penitent member.

A sharp disagreement arose between the elders and me.  This was years ago in New Jersey.  I don’t remember the issue (really), but I was convinced I was right (really).  Since we couldn’t resolve it, we called the state superintendent of the denomination to which we belonged.  Surely he’ll support his pastor! I thought.  Nope.  As wrong as those elders were (really), he caved.  It took months to get over my anger and forgive the guy.  Had I not, bitterness would have spread and infected the church one way or another.

SATAN SCHEMES TO USE UNFORGIVENESS TO HIS ADVANTAGE.

Paul forgives and urges the church to forgive “in order that Satan might not outwit (or gain advantage over) us.  For we are not unaware of his schemes.”  When was the last time the devil showed up in your church’s pulpit wearing red long johns carrying a pitchfork?  He’s way sneakier than that.  Paul knows he schemes to take advantage of us through unforgiveness.

I read several commentators and preachers on this text.  All make church discipline the main topic.  Wrong.  Paul’s topic is the need for the church to forgive the penitent sinner.  Six times Paul writes “forgive” in one form or another.  The church didn’t need to be better at church discipline; they needed to be better at forgiveness.

* * *

I contend the same is true today.  However weak we may be at church discipline, we’re weaker at forgiveness.  I would argue that in most congregations on most Sunday mornings sits at least one member with an unforgiving heart toward another.

What did Jesus teach us to do if our brother or sister sins against us?

“If your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over” (Matthew 18:15).

Sometimes we can forgive our brother in our heart.  Often, though,  the offense demands a face-to-face meeting.  Sure, it’s tough.  Sure, he may refuse to listen.  But I think we fail most in “church discipline” at this first step:  we refuse to try to “make it right” one-on-one.  When we don’t, Satan’s got the advantage.  The offense we say we’ve forgiven, lurks in our gut.  And eventually it morphs into hard-hearted unforgiveness.  Not only does that split a segment of the church; it prevents the Father from forgiving us.

Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.  “Therefore, the kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants.  As he began the settlement, a man who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him.  Since he was not able to pay, the master ordered that he and his wife and his children and all that he had be sold to repay the debt.  “The servant fell on his knees before him. ‘Be patient with me,’ he begged, ‘and I will pay back everything.’  The servant’s master took pity on him, canceled the debt and let him go.  “But when that servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii. He grabbed him and began to choke him. ‘Pay back what you owe me!’ he demanded. “His fellow servant fell to his knees and begged him, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you back.’  “But he refused. Instead, he went off and had the man thrown into prison until he could pay the debt.  When the other servants saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed and went and told their master everything that had happened.  “Then the master called the servant in. ‘You wicked servant,’ he said, ‘I canceled all that debt of yours because you begged me to. Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?’  In anger his master turned him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed. “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother from your heart.” (Matthew 18:21-35).

‘Nuff said.

 

 

Amen People

Take-away:  be “amen people”!  I don’t mean sing in the choir . . .




Before the “amen people” take-away, let’s see what was happening between Paul and the Corinthian church.   In short, he had planned to visit them–twice.  And told them so.  Then he didn’t show.  Fodder for the Corinthian “false apostles” who derided Paul.  “If you can’t trust his plans, how can you trust his gospel?  Huh?”

So Paul defends himself.

“Now this is our boast: Our conscience testifies that we have conducted ourselves in the world, and especially in our relations with you, in the holiness and sincerity that are from God. We have done so not according to worldly wisdom but according to God’s grace. For we do not write you anything you cannot read or understand. And I hope that,  as you have understood us in part, you will come to understand fully that you can boast of us just as we will boast of you in the day of the Lord Jesus” (2 Corinthians 1:12-14).

Paul points with pride to what his conscience tells him. “Conscience”, writes C.K. Barrett in The Second Epistle to the Corinthians, implies “man’s ability to detach himself from himself and view his character and actions independently.”  Paul’s tells them he’s conducted himself in holiness (the Greek word implies “from a pure motive” or “with integrity”) and sincerity.  And this, not in the wisdom of a man without the Spirit, but in the wisdom that comes from God’s grace.

Paul hopes the Corinthians will become proud of him (“We have this wonderful apostle who brought us the gospel and continues to faithfully care about us!  He is a gift from God!).  At present, they’re not.

Two implications for us.  One:  our conduct matters.  How we live confirms or denies the reality of the gospel we claim to stand for.  Two:  our conduct can be misunderstood.  We can act for righteous and loving reasons and be judged wrong.  All we can do then, is what’s right and maybe try to explain ourselves.  Of course, in Paul’s case, he was contending with “false apostles” out to discredit him.

What brought all this about?  Paul specifies  . . .

“Because I was confident of this, I planned to visit you first so that you might benefit twice.  I planned to visit you on my way to Macedonia and to come back to you from Macedonia, and then to have you send me on my way to Judea.  When I planned this, did I do it lightly? Or do I make my plans in a worldly manner so that in the same breath I say, “Yes, yes” and “No, no”?  But as surely as God is faithful, our message to you is not “Yes” and “No.” (2 Corinthians 1:15-18).

Paul, assuming his relations with the church were good (“you can boast of us”), planned to visit Corinth twice.  Then he learned relations weren’t. So he changed plans.  “Aha!”, exclaimed his adversaries.  “You just can’t trust the guy!  He says one thing but means another.”

Paul denies the charge.  And (surprisingly) he grounds his denial in God’s faithfulness.  It seems the height of presumption:  “Just as God is faithful, our message to you can be trusted.”

Look at heights to which Paul has gone.  “Our conscience is clear.  We’ve behaved from a sanctified motive and with absolute integrity. This all comes from God’s grace at work in us.  Our word is as trustworthy as God’s.”

On what ground can Paul make claims like that?

“For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, who was preached among you by me and Silas and Timothy, was not “Yes” and “No,” but in him it has always been “Yes.”  For no matter how many promises God has made, they are “Yes” in Christ. And so through him the “Amen” is spoken by us to the glory of God” (2 Corinthians 1:19, 20).

First, writes Paul, God’s Son, Jesus Christ, who they preached to the Corinthians, is God’s great YES.  Everything God has promised—right, all of it—is fulfilled with absolute certainty in Christ.  The statement is breathtaking.  Forgiveness.  Healing. Resurrection.  Steadfast love.  Peace.  Joy.  Justice.  New, eternal creation peopled by new, eternal-life people.  All are fulfilled with absolute certainty in the One Person, God’s Son, Jesus Christ.

Recognizing this, all believers say “Amen”.  The word is a transliteration from the Hebrew “Amen”—a solemn declaration that what is spoken is indeed true.  Therefore, through the certain fulfillment of God’s promises that Jesus Christ is, believers respond by solemnly declaring this is indeed true.  “Amen”, then, is a bold word of committed faith.

And, for Paul, this “Amen” influences word and conduct.  Because Jesus Christ is God’s “Amen”, and because we respond with our “Amen”, we are to be “Amen” people—people who act with sanctified motives and absolute integrity.  People who do what we say.

From where comes that ability?

Now it is God who makes both us and you stand firm in Christ. He anointed us,  set his seal of ownership on us, and put his Spirit in our hearts as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.  I call God as my witness that it was in order to spare you that I did not return to Corinth.  Not that we lord it over your faith, but we work with you for your joy, because it is by faith you stand firm” (2 Corinthians 1:21-24).

This “Amen” ability comes from God.  He makes us “stand firm in Christ.”  He “anointed us” (by the Spirit).  He “set his seal of ownership (the Spirit) on us.”  He “put his Spirit in our hearts”—“a deposit guaranteeing” his promised future for us.  So we say Amen “to the glory of God” (1:20).

Paul calls God as witness.  He didn’t return to Corinth “to spare” them more pain and sorrow by rebukes and corrections and any ill feelings that might result. But, just to be clear that Paul doesn’t regard himself as an authority over them, he reminds them, “ . . . we work with you for your joy” and not by us but “by faith you stand firm.”

Finally, Paul applies all this to his change of plans . . .

“So I made up my mind that I would not make another painful visit to you. For if I grieve you, who is left to make me glad but you whom I have grieved?  I wrote as I did so that when I came I should not be distressed by those who ought to make me rejoice. I had confidence in all of you, that you would all share my joy.  For I wrote you out of great distress and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to grieve you but to let you know the depth of my love for you” (2 Corinthians 2:1-4).

When Paul had first heard of Corinthian trouble, he paid a quick Ephesus-to-Corinth visit.  It went badly.  And with new trouble at hand, he didn’t want any more pain for anyone.  Furthermore, he wanted to assure them that, however harsh his “lost” letter (lost to us) might have sounded, he had written with tears of love over the state of their souls.

* * *

Now the take-away:  like Paul, be “amen people.”  Allan, be an “amen man.”

By that I mean, first, through Christ say “Amen” to God’s glory.  In other words, confess that God fulfills all his promises in Jesus Christ.  Don’t treat God as the generic God of American culture.  God has come among us in his Son, who is himself God.  He has come, was crucified, resurrected and ascended into heaven, and will come again.  In him–in Jesus who is the Christ–God fulfills everything he has promised.  Say, “Amen.  Certainly it is so.  I believe it.  I confess it.  I stand on the rock.  I say and sing “amen” to the glory of God in Christ.

By “amen people I mean, second, live “amen” to God’s glory.  In other words, with our words, mean what we say and say what we mean.  Live with simple honesty.  With holy integrity.  Don’t be squeezed into a culture of “throw-away words.”  No duplicity.  No hypocrisy.  Live, “Yes, God, through Jesus Christ, by your grace I will walk the talk.”

Amen, Father.  May it be.

(Now we can join the choir.)

Despairing, Desperate

2 Corinthians is a deeply personal letter.  Paul is less the doctrine-teacher, more the man pouring out his heart to a church rejecting him and “his” gospel.  To understand the situation let’s reconstruct events . . .

Image result for paul's third missionary journey map

 

Paul planted the Corinthian church on his second missionary journey (50 or 51 A.D.)  After 1 ½ years in Corinth, he went to Ephesus for 2 ½ years.  While there, Paul received reports of divisions in the Corinthian church.  Additionally, three men from Corinth brought him a letter from Corinth asking questions about Christian belief and behavior.  Late 54 A.D., Paul wrote 1 Corinthians in response.

Paul sent the letter with Timothy, who found the situation in Corinth worse than expected.  Consequently, Paul made an urgent visit in spring 55 A.D..  It became a “painful” one (2 Corinthians 2:1).  The Corinthians had ignored Paul’s letter (1 Corinthians) and embraced new leaders who belittled Paul and mocked his apostleship.

Paul remained only briefly in Corinth and returned to Ephesus.  From there, probably in the summer of 55 A.D., Paul wrote another letter (2 Corinthians 2:4,9) rebuking the Corinthians (the so-called “lost letter”).  Titus delivered it.

Meanwhile, Paul remained in Ephesus where he faced intense opposition (2 Corinthians 1:8-10).  In late 55 A.D. he left and went to Troas, hoping to meet Titus to hear how the church had responded to his rebuke-letter.  Titus wasn’t there.  Paul went on to Macedonia.  Finally, Titus arrived with some good news (2 Corinthians 7:5ff) and some bad.  The Corinthians had responded well, but a  group of “false apostles” had taken over the church and undermined Paul’s apostleship and authority.

So, in late 55 or early 56 A.D. Paul wrote 2 Corinthians, hoping to prepare the church for his final visit to them.

After greeting them (“What’s in a Salutation?” https://theoldpreacher.com/whats-in-a-salutation/) Paul expresses praise to God . . .

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God (2 Corinthians 1:3,4).

Paul is writing personally, not doctrinally.  Only secondarily is he teaching (praising) God’s nature.  Primarily he’s relating his experience.  In all his “troubles” (Greek, thlipsis—“pressure, affliction, oppression”) he’s been comforted (Greek, parakaleo—a coming alongside to relieve sorrow and distress) by “the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort.”

This is a bold beginning for Paul’s letter.  To the Corinthians, being “spiritual” means living above or apart from “troubles.”  Paul not only admits troubles, but affirms in them God is particularly at work.

God’s got a purpose:  so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.”  The successful “spiritual” life is not affliction-free.  Believers face affliction, and God uses troubles to equip his people to minister comfort to one another.

For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort (2 Corinthians 1:5-7).

Why must believers endure “troubles”?  “ . . . the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives . . . “  The treatment Jesus endured is the same treatment those who are his must.  It’s the nature of the Christian life.

But, I suffer illness, not persecution.  Is this still “the sufferings of Christ”?  Do they test my faith in him?  Then, yes, they are “the sufferings of Christ.”

Paul claims that this personal suffering helps equip him for ministry.  And, by the comfort he’s able to pass along, they are enabled to patiently endure “the same sufferings we suffer.”

Hear now how the apostle opens his heart to the church . . .

We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead.  He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many (2 Corinthians 1:8-11).

Paul couldn’t state his affliction “in the province of Asia” (probably the Ephesus city-wide riot against him–Acts 19:21-41 )  more honestly and humbly—“under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of lie . . . in our hearts we felt the sentence of death.”  It’s a glimpse into the apostle’s heart the Acts narrative doesn’t give.

Why did God allow Paul such suffering, suffering he couldn’t endure and thought would take his life?  “But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead.”

Whether or not Paul is implying that the Corinthians, too, have to learn this God-reliance lesson isn’t certain.  What is certain is that Paul, from personal experience, is saying that such hopeless affliction is part of God’s intention for his people.

Here, by the way, we see that God’s “comfort” to Paul wasn’t merely internal, but external:  God “delivered us from such a deadly peril”.  And, since he expects similar suffering in the future, Paul requests the Corinthians’ prayers so that many might “give thanks . . . for the gracious favor granted us . . . “

We mustn’t miss this:  Paul is using himself as an example to argue that suffering is not a sign of inferior spirituality.  Rather, it is part and parcel of the Christian life—both an occasion for God to reveal his delivering power and an occasion for the Christian to learn better to rely on God.

Which brings us to a serious point of application.

Dr. Sam Storms (a charismatic-Calvinist [!] who pastors Bridgeway Church in Oklahoma City) observes . . .

“It is natural . . . for us to trust in ourselves. It is so natural, and so confirmed by the habits of a lifetime, that no ordinary difficulties or perplexities avail to break us of it. It takes all God can do to root up our self-confidence. He must reduce us to despair; He must bring us to such an extremity that the one voice we have in our hearts, the one voice that cries to us wherever we look round for help, is death, death, death. It is out of this despair that the superhuman hope is born. It is out of this abject helplessness that the soul learns to look up with new trust to God.”

And James Denney (19th century Scottish theologian and preacher) wrote . . .

“How do most of us attain to any faith in Providence? Is it not by proving, through numberless experiments, that it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps? Is it not by coming, again and again, to the limit of our resources, and being compelled to feel that unless there is a wisdom and a love at work on our behalf, immeasurably wiser and more benign than our own, life is a moral chaos? . . . Only desperation opens our eyes to God’s love“.

I ponder both.  Storms says God, “to root up our self-confidence . . . must reduce us to despair”.  And Denney writes, “Only desperation opens our eyes to God’s love.”  I like neither.  Must God really “reduce us to despair”?  Are we such self-confident sinners that “Only desperation opens our eyes to God’s love?”

Based on Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 1:3-11, I think he’d answer YES.

For decades I relied on God and “saw” his love.  Apparently not not nearly as much as I thought.  God knew all along that my faith was immature at worse and inferior at best.  So now, here I am, often despairing of  my life as it is–always desperate for the power of God’s love to be revealed in me.  I want to walk.  I long for everything else broken in me to be fixed.  Until then, I crave sufficient grace, the power of Christ to rest on me.

Why this condition, God? This happened so that I might rely not on myself, but on God who raises the dead.

Do I dare risk desperation and  pray, “Teach me, Father”?

Do we dare risk desperation and  pray, “Teach us, Father”?




 

 

 

 

 

What’s in a Salutation?

 

Salutation.  Not an exotic salad I’m going to reveal the ingredients of.  It’s  “the word or phrase of greeting (as Gentlemen or Dear Sir or Madam) that conventionally comes immediately before the body of a letter” (Merriam-Webster).  (If you’re a texting-person, you probably have no idea what I’m talking about.)  New Testament salutations we typically skim.  Just the same-old greetings.   Let’s get on to the important stuff! But in 2 Corinthians 1:1,2 there’s gold to be mined.  First, though, a glimpse of . . .

CORINTH, THE CITY

Image result for map of 1st century Greece

First-century Corinth has a population estimated as high as 200,000.  Every race and religion is represented.  Two harbors and a strategic location make it a major commercial center in southern Greece.

CORINTH, THE CITY’S CHARACTER

The city is notorious for morally-depraved living–a Wild West kind of place. Every pagan cult has a following here.  Temple prostitutes number close to 1,000.  “Corinthianize” is a word coined to signify the city’s sexual pleasures.

D.A. Carson (Research Professor of New Testament, Trinity Evangelical Divinity School) comments . . .

“As noted, Corinth’s reputation is notorious. Among other things, archaeologists have discovered there clay representations of human genitals that were offered to Asclepius, the god of healing. Evidently, the hope was that that part of the body, suffering from venereal disease, would be healed. However, it is important to point out that Corinth’s reputation comes from what we know it to have been like prior to its devastation in 146 b.c. Thus we should be careful “not to read the old city’s character into the new city. . . . [Nevertheless], traditions like that die hard, and as a great port city it is unlikely that new Corinth established a reputation for moral probity . . . “

CORINTH, THE CHURCH

Dr. Gordon Fee (Professor Emeritus of New Testament at Regent College, Vancouver, British Columbia) notes, “ . . . although they were the Christian church in Corinth, an inordinate amount of Corinth was yet in them . . . “

In the spring of 55 A.D. Paul makes an urgent visit to the church to try to restore strained relationships.  It becomes “a painful visit” (2 Corinthians 2:1).  The church largely ignored Paul’s 1 Corinthians’ instructions and are now listening to so-called apostles who oppose and belittle Paul.  Consequently, the church is mocking the apostle:  “His letters are weighty and strong, but his bodily presence is weak, and his speech is of no account” (10:10).

THE SALUTATION TO THE CORINTHIANS

“Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and Timothy our brother, To the church of God in Corinth, together with all the saints throughout Achaia: Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ” (2 Corinthians 1:1,2).

Paul identifies himself as an apostle of Messiah Jesus by the will of God.  His claim to be officially sent by the Messiah according to God’s will contradicts the Corinthians’ mockery.  He’s not to be trifled with.  Not because of who he is but because of the authority of Jesus who sent him.

“Grace . . . to you” is more than a standard greeting starting ancient letters.  For Paul it is a prayer from the heart for God’s favor and power to be released into the lives of the Corinthians.  And he believes God’s grace will be released to the church in the words of his letter.

John Piper explains: ” . . . at the beginning of his letters Paul has in mind that the letter itself is a channel of God’s grace to the readers. Grace is about to flow ‘from God’ through Paul’s writing to the Christians. So he says, ‘Grace to you.’ That is, grace is now active and is about to flow from God through my inspired writing to you as you read — ‘grace [be] to you'” (Future Grace, p. 66-67).

This is remarkable–and brings us to . . .

THE SALUTATION TO US

I watch a contemporary jeans-clad preacher pace the platform,  holding the Bible folded over as if it were an ordinary soft-cover book.  0 I cringe.  I hear him read the text as casually as if it were the “The New York Times”.  And I wonder how anyone can read God’s words like that.

Some preachers attract such attention to themselves that they would accomplish more if they just reverently read the Bible to their listeners.  I’m certainly not putting down preaching.  But what’s important is God’s words, not the preacher’s. 

To say it another way, God’s grace comes to us through God’s words.

So it is when we read his words.  “Grace . . . to you”, wrote Paul–expecting that God’s favor and power would be released when the believers read what he’d written “breathed out” by God.

When we open our Bible, we can potentially encounter God the Holy Spirit.  His favor–his kindness we don’t deserve, his preferential treat we don’t merit–can be released to us.  In the same way, his power can be freed to flow.

The form that grace takes is up to the Giver.  It may be increased faith, insight that heightens our wonder of him, healing for our spirit or body,  deepened love for him and others, conviction of sin that calls for repentance, a comforting sense of his presence, peace in the midst of chaos, assurance of forgiveness, a brighter hope because he holds tomorrow.

But we can’t approach the Bible as if it were just another–even religious–book.  Come with reverence.  Come with prayer.  Come with a mind recognizing the book contains God’s words.  Come with a heart hungry for grace.

And come assured that the Holy Spirit through the Scripture is saying, “Grace to you.”

 Listen again . . .




 

 

 

 

 

The Aberration of Now

O PreacherAberration:  “a departure from what is normal.”  Synonyms—“divergence, abnormality, rogue.”  Now–the time in which we live–is an aberration.

Compare these two passages of Scripture . . .

“In the beginning God created  the heavens and the earth . . .
And God saw everything that he had made,
and behold, it was very good.”
(Genesis 1:1,31)

. . . a new heaven and a new earth,
for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away,
and there was no longer any sea. 
I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem,
coming down out of heaven from God,
prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. 
And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,
“Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them.
They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 
He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death
or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” 
He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!”
(Revelation 21:1-5a)

In the beginning God saw everything he had made and appraised it as being “very good”.  The apostle John was given to see a new heaven and earth which will have no tears, death, mourning, crying or pain.  The present “order of things” is “old” and will pass away.  Implication:  the new order will not pass away.  Thus there was a time when this creation was “very good” and there will be eternity when the new, never-passing-away creation will come. Implication:  now–this present world order–is an aberration.

Take two other texts . . .

Therefore we do not lose heart.
Though outwardly we are wasting away,

yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.
For our light and
momentary troubles
are achieving for us an eternal glory
that far
outweighs them all.
So we fix our eyes not on what is seen,
but on
what is unseen.
For what is seen is temporary,
but what is unseen is eternal.
(2 Corinthians 4:16-18)

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing
with the glory that will be revealed in us.
The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. 
For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice,
but by the will of the one who subjected it,
in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay
and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.
We know that the whole creation has been groaning
as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. 
Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit,
groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons,
the redemption of our bodies.
(Romans 8:18-23)

According to the 2 Corinthians text what we see is temporary, a time of “momentary troubles”.  Whereas what is unseen is eternal, an eternal glory wonder.  In the Romans text Paul writes of “present suffering” in which “the creation [has been] subjected to frustration” (or, futility) and has been “groaning as in the pains of childbirth”.  What is coming is incomparable “glory”, the “redemption of our bodies” and “the sons of God [being] revealed.  With that, “the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.”  When Paul writes that present sufferings and troubles are “momentary”, he’s contrasting them with redeemed bodies in a liberated creation all of which will be as lasting as our “adoption as sons”.  Since the new creation will be filled with eternal glory and the present is filled temporary sufferings, the present order is an aberration–a departure from the normal–of what God intends.

Why this long aberration?  Genesis 3.  In the paradise of Eden our first parents fell for the devil’s lie, fell from the grace of trusting and obeying God, and fell into sin and death.  Ever since, humans have refused to honor God or give thanks to him.  We became futile in our thinking and darkened in our foolish hearts.  We exchanged the eternal Creator’s glory for images of created things.  Thus God has given us over to the depravity we crave (Romans 1:18-32).

 . . . but God shows his love for us
in that while we were still sinners,
Christ died for us
(Romans 5:8).

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation;
the old has gone, the new has come!
(2 Corinthians 5:17)

The “new” has come in us who are connected to Christ by faith!  Still we live in this sin- and- death-dominated world in unredeemed bodies.  But soon Christ will come again.  And with him, the restoration of all things.  So we can say . . .

. . . in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to
a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness.
(2 Peter 3:13)

Meanwhile, we live in “the aberration of now”–a comparatively brief time of troubles that will one day be swallowed up by the weight of eternal glory in the new creation.

I write “the aberration of now” for two reasons.  One, to correct the idea that our eternity will consist of fluffy white clouds on which we–disembodied spirits–will play in an all-harp praise band for an unending worship service.  When we die, we go to be with Christ (2 Corinthians 5:8); but when Christ comes, heaven comes to a new earth forever.

Two, to stop thinking that this world is home.  I naturally sense it is.  It’s all I’ve known for 72 years.  The new creation is an unknown, except for the strange symbolic language of Revelation 21 and 22.  A river running through the New Jerusalem with fruit trees bordering both sides, though,  just doesn’t get my juices flowing, you know?  I wish the Bible had a photo section  of the new earth!  I’d be more excited about going there.

Nevertheless, God’s Word urges us to “fix [our] eyes on what is unseen” and to “wait eagerly for . . . the redemption of our bodies” and to “[look] forward to a new heaven and a new earth.”  One thing helps me do that:  to remember this world is a brief aberration.  It’s a departure from what is normal, a divergence, an abnormality, a rogue world controlled by the evil one (1 John 5:19).  Together with all of you in Christ, I’m on my way to a better country (Hebrews 11:16).

“At present we are on the outside of [that] world, the wrong side of the door . . . But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumour that it will not always be so. Some day, God willing, we shall get in.”
C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

Birthday Love Letter Lesson

O PreacherLois and I celebrated my 72nd birthday Monday.  The number almost takes my breath away.  (So does walking up stairs.)  My body feels 72, but not my mind.  (You may diagnose me differently if you regularly read what I write.)  Anyway, we enjoyed a wonderful day together—brunch and dinner out (not at the same time), Lois’ card and letter to me (I cried) and the movie “The Notebook” (more tears).  Unusual all-day rain kept us from the beach (original plan), but it was just as well.  We enjoyed being quiet together appreciating having each other.  I’m more in love than ever.

At the risk of sounding egotistical, here’s one line from Lois’ letter:  “Your ability to persevere and continue to show Christ’s love is witness to the power of the faith you have taught—and lived—all your life.”  (Ah, yes.  Love is blind.  Is that in Leviticus?)  I shared her sentence only because I’ve struggled recently with the Lord’s answer to Paul’s pleading prayers to be freed from his “thorn in the flesh” . . .

“My grace is sufficient for you,
for my power is made perfect in weakness”
(2 Corinthians 12:9a).

I read those words and wonder where the Lord’s gracious perfected power is in me.  I limp in pain leaning on my walker.  My faith fights feebly against my disability.  Some days I’m angry or depressed.  God’s promises seem to mock me.  No divine power-surge in this old body!  No spectacular signs of God’s sufficient grace in me!  Not only do I not boast of my weaknesses, I hate people seeing me this way.  No contented sighs coming from this mouth.  Where’s the Lord’s power?

Then Monday I read Lois’ letter.  “Your ability to persevere and continue to show Christ’s love is witness to the power of the faith you have taught—and lived—all your life” (and other such statements).   There it is!  There’s the Lord’s perfected power in my weakness! 

Lois sees me persevering and continuing to show Christ’s love.  She sees me as a witness to faith’s power.  (She sees many other virtues I won’t point out for fear of sounding like Donald Trump.)  These virtues that she sees are evidence of the Lord’s perfected power of grace in me. 

I realize again that his power doesn’t displace weakness; it shines in weakness.  It doesn’t turn a disabled body into Superman; it displays Jesus in the attitude and words and ways of the disabled.  His power doesn’t rescue me from the Calvary road; it inwardly renews me on the Calvary road.  (And one day, just as God’s power exploded in the resurrection of the crucified Christ, it will explode in this rotted, worm-eaten body and resurrect it imperishable and immortal.)

This is how, of course,  God’s power was perfected in Paul.  It’s impossible to read 2 Corinthians, other Pauline letters and the book of Acts and not know that Paul suffered for Christ.  Just read 2 Corinthians 6:4-10; 11:23-29.  Only in 2 Corinthians 12:9 did Paul pray to be spared suffering.  And when he didn’t receive what he wanted, he wrote:

“Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses,
so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
For the sake of Christ, then, I am content
with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions and calamities.
For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:9b,10).

That’s the Lord’s perfected power in a mere sinful mortal who trusts his saving grace!

I’m not saying the Lord never delivers.  Read Hebrews 11 and realize there are times he does and times he doesn’t.  But when he doesn’t,  his power isn’t absent—just demonstrated in different ways.

Listen!  There’s no need to run to “healing evangelists” or to send money for an “anointed prayer cloth.”  Our Father never turns a deaf ear to his children.  Our Lord never ignores his redeemed.  He just asserts his gracious power in different ways according to his sovereign and good will.

That means I am as much a miracle as I would be if the Lord physically healed me!

 

 

Learning to Lean

Recently I had to learn to walk with a cane.  I’ve also learned God wants us to learn to lean on him.  Listen to the apostle Paul writing to the church at Corinth.

We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia.  We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life.  Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death.  But that happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead (2 Corinthians 1:8,9).

Perhaps he’s referring to the riot in Ephesus.  When Paul preached the Gospel there, so many believed that the city’s idol-making business almost went bankrupt.  The whole city marched into the Ephesus ampitheater to cry for Paul’s head (Acts 19:23ff).  Looking back, Paul remembers:  “The pressure was way beyond what we could endure,  like having a death sentence hanging over us.  We were condemned men waiting for the kill.”

My disability can’t compare–not with Paul’s suffering, maybe not with yours.  But (I’m ashamed to admit) at times I felt like I couldn’t keep going and didn’t want to try.  “Why this, God?”  Answer:  “So you can learn to lean on me.”  Argument:  “But I already know how to lean on you.”  Answer:  “Not enough.”  Not enough yet for Paul either.  ” . . . this happened that we might not rely on ourselves, but on God who raises the dead.”  It’s not enough to learn to lean on my cane; God wants me to learn to lean on him–hard, full weight, not at all on myself.

So every time I reach for my cane, I try to tell myself, “Lean on God!”  I don’t always, of course.  Too often I still just lean on the cane.  But I pray for a mind that will remember and will make that short piece of metal  the Gospel to me.  God is there to lean on, because Jesus laid down his life and rose again.    One day soon we’ll throw away our canes for good.  Until then, let’s listen to those canes preach–and know that underneath are the everlasting arms.

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