Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Living infinitely finite lives.

I've been studying through the Gospel according to Luke for roughly two months now. There are several big themes that are presented to the reader, including: God's sovereign reign over all of history; what the theologians describe as the "already--but not yet" Kingdom of God; the coming and indwelling of God the Holy Spirit; the "upside-down" Kingdom of God (first becoming last, etc.); the importance of prayer, stewardship and the danger in earthly riches. As all of these are vastly important topics, the theme that has heavily weighed on my heart is the "already--but not yet" Kingdom, and how as believers we should respond to the idea. Simply put, it means that the Kingdom of God was already present with Jesus Christ and his earthly ministry, but not in it's entirety as we still await the final day of judgment and the glorification of our bodies as Christ's elect. With passages of Scripture like Christ's Sermon on the Mount, or Paul's writing in Romans, I think that as believers we do a really poor job of living these texts out by constantly being worried and anxious. I’ll try to explain why, in the way that the Holy Spirit has made it known to me.


God knows of every single sparrow flying in the sky (historically in the Jewish marketplace, a sparrow was worth about one-half of a penny), knows every hair on our heads, feeds the birds of the air, and gives all things "life and breath and everything" (Luke 12:6, 7, 24; Acts 17:25). Knowing all of this, it seems completely nonsensical and non-Scriptural for us to think that God is not in control of our lives (and even more so the universe). Understanding this concept, by the Spirit alone, has radically transformed and renewed my mind. Knowing that God is ever-present through times of both suffering and joy should evoke strong praise from His followers (Rom. 8:18-30). Nothing can happen to me that is not already known to God, and more importantly, nothing can happen to me that is not for God and his sovereign purpose (Pss. 139:1-6; Rom. 11:33-36; Isa. 40:27-31; Rom. 8:28; Gen. 50:20; Acts 2:22-24). What I mean by this is that if anything happens to me, literally anything, that particular thing happened to bring glory and worship to the Father, regardless of how it “feels” to me at the time. As a follower of Christ, our hope must be set in the eternality of Christ, and on absolutely nothing else. Your marriage will fail you. Your family will fail you. Your friends will fail you. Your church will fail you. Your job will fail you. Sex will fail you. Literally anything and anyone outside of Jesus Christ will fail to bring you true, and everlasting joy. The early church father Augustine said it perfectly: “You made us for yourself, and our hearts find no peace till they rest in you.” As events have unfolded in my life, I used to look to the Lord and question why he would let such seemingly bad things happen to me, and his answer is echoed through the apostle Paul: “More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Rom. 5:3-5). As human beings, we are going to have worries and stress for the rest of our lives, but through Christ on the cross we are “more than conquerors” (Rom. 8:37), and by the power of the Holy Spirit we will be sustained to the very end.


“When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

when sorrows like sea billows roll;

whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, it is well with my soul.”