Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

– Romans 8:26-28 (ESV) [Emphasis mine]

I’ve had a bit of a no-fun week, but my mini-trib has been a pin-prick compared to what some of my friends are going through. My problems generally reside in my mind, and my circumstances rarely fall below “uncomfortable”, but I’ve got friends going through real, live tribulation and trouble right now.

In thinking about this I am drawn to Romans 8:28. “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”.

I can see some of you rolling your eyes now. Romans 8:28 has, for some, come to be considered a verse that is not to be quoted (let alone blogged about) when people are in tribulation. It all seems too easy, to “pat”. I myself can recall times when someone tossed Romans 8:28 my way during a down time and I found it irritating.

I’m learning, however, that the problem then was me, not Romans 8:28 or its surrounding context.

Look at that verse. Too trite? Too simple? Look again. Think of the one who wrote it under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Was Paul sitting on a stage in a three piece suit with coiffed hair and manicured fingernails? I think not. Paul was one tough hombre, and my expectation is that he was uglier than a stump to boot. He carried the scars of his devotion to Christ in his tough, weather-beaten hide. And he wrote this: “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”

Paul and those he ran with woke up most mornings knowing that there was a distinct chance of intense physical pain in their near future. They lived in a world that was, compared to what most of us know, barbaric and cruel. Stonings, beatings, cold, heat, hunger, thirst, prison. Welcome to the life of an evangelist for Christ in the first century AD. It was a world without safety nets. Sick and in pain? Hopefully you’ll recover, but don’t expect a warm bed, orange juice, or any pain meds. Broken leg? Hope it doesn’t get infected and kill you. No money? Lotsa luck. Don’t believe Caesar is god because you worship Jesus? Off with your head.

I’m beginning to understand. Romans 8:28 is a magnificent promise, one almost too good to believe, and that’s its problem. Actually, it’s our problem; our unbelief. Romans 8:28 towers over the desert of our tribulation, a solid rock to stand on, a spring of water unlooked for to one dying of thirst. It’s for those who love God and are called according to His purpose. There is a plan. What we’re going through is part of it. And the ending of all this will be the working together and miraculous harmony of a myriad of circumstances, and it will be good. If that seems impossible, it’s only because we can’t fathom or muster faith in the organizational and creative abilities of the Master of all circumstances, Almighty God.

In my life I’ve experienced little pinpricks of tribulation. Generally things work out. I’ve got it very, very easy. I haven’t had to have much faith in God’s great promise of Romans 8:28. Someday I know I will need that faith. I hope that I will not falter.

I hope I will remember the words of our Lord Jesus that He spoke to encourage eleven men who were about to embark on the most exhilarating, dangerous, revolutionary, and deadly adventure of their lives:

“I have said these things to you,

that in me you may have peace.

In the world you will have tribulation.

But take heart;

I have overcome the world.”

– John 16:33 (ESV)

The ironsmith takes a cutting tool and works it over the coals. He fashions it with hammers and works it with his strong arm. He becomes hungry, and his strength fails; he drinks no water and is faint. The carpenter stretches a line; he marks it out with a pencil. He shapes it with planes and marks it with a compass. He shapes it into the figure of a man, with the beauty of a man, to dwell in a house. He cuts down cedars, or he chooses a cypress tree or an oak and lets it grow strong among the trees of the forest. He plants a cedar and the rain nourishes it. Then it becomes fuel for a man. He takes a part of it and warms himself; he kindles a fire and bakes bread. Also he makes a god and worships it; he makes it an idol and falls down before it. Half of it he burns in the fire. Over the half he eats meat; he roasts it and is satisfied. Also he warms himself and says, “Aha, I am warm, I have seen the fire!” And the rest of it he makes into a god, his idol, and falls down to it and worships it. He prays to it and says, “Deliver me, for you are my god!”

They know not, nor do they discern, for he has shut their eyes, so that they cannot see, and their hearts, so that they cannot understand. No one considers, nor is there knowledge or discernment to say, “Half of it I burned in the fire; I also baked bread on its coals; I roasted meat and have eaten. And shall I make the rest of it an abomination? Shall I fall down before a block of wood?” He feeds on ashes; a deluded heart has led him astray, and he cannot deliver himself or say, “Is there not a lie in my right hand?”

– Isaiah 44:12-20 (ESV)

Oh the gods we construct!

This short passage from Isaiah contains a decent amount of irony and even humor, doesn’t it? It’s easy to agree that we humans are often ridiculous creatures.

God has given us the earth to enjoy and to nurture. He has given us reason, language, music, the skill of our hands and the strength of our backs. We have minds that are able to think abstractly, to think ahead, to study and even begin to understand this amazing universe. We have the ability to think mythic and epic thoughts; to understand irony and tragedy. He has given us a sense of humor, and the ability to laugh at ourselves. We are able to gain truths through parables, through worlds “thrown alongside” our own world via story and metaphor. Many among us can plan and construct amazing works, both artistic and practical. We can peer into the deep corners of space and even venture beyond our world. We are amazing creatures, made amazing by our amazing Creator.

All these good and perfect gifts are to be presented back to the One who bestowed them, for His sake and for His glory. This can happen even when one of His creatures uses the gift to satisfy himself or make himself or others happy. I believe God takes great pleasure in the warm fellowship of Christian friends around a fire, or in the satisfying grunts of a blacksmith as he plies his trade with integrity and excellence. He takes pleasure in the love between friends and the purity and beauty of marital intimacy. Our Creator designed us to enjoy a good meal, a good song, laughter, the excitement of sport, the beauty of art, and a thousand other good pleasures besides.

Yet how easy it is for us, as creatures both animal and spiritual, to cross the line into idolatry. We are searching for gods to satisfy us every day when the one true God offers us eternal satisfaction, eternal security, and a life more abundant than we can imagine. I find myself setting up little gods around me; gods of my own accomplishment, or the small gods of the affirmation others give me, or of interests that crowd out more important things. Appetites run rampant; “their god is their belly” does not just refer to gluttony but to the insatiable and maddening desire we humans, and this human in particular, have to fill ourselves with all our eyes see while leaving God absent, to be called upon only when we’re in dire straights. I’ve flung myself down before more blocks of wood than I care to recount.

Shall I fall down before a block of wood?”

He feeds on ashes; a deluded heart has led him astray,

and he cannot deliver himself or say,

“Is there not a lie in my right hand?”

Lord God, my King, teach me to be satisfied in You alone.

Thus says the Lord, the King of Israel

and his Redeemer, the Lord of hosts:

“I am the first and I am the last;

besides me there is no god.

Who is like me? Let him proclaim it.

Let him declare and set it before me,

since I appointed an ancient people.

Let them declare what is to come, and what will happen.

Fear not, nor be afraid;

have I not told you from of old and declared it?

And you are my witnesses!

Is there a God besides me?

There is no Rock; I know not any.”

– Isaiah 44:6-8 (ESV)

And he was in the wilderness forty days, being tempted by Satan. And he was with the wild animals, and the angels were ministering to him.

– Mark 1:13 (ESV)

I wrote last week that Words are like evil spirits. By this I mean that words carry great power, and sometimes it is terrible power. They can truly “haunt forever”.

We don’t realize the power of our words. The other day Blake, my seven year old, told me about something mean some big kid said to him when he was three! He has remembered those words for four years.

I can remember hurtful things that were said to me twenty five years ago. How about you? Do you have a long memory for words? If so, welcome to the human race. Words can hurt, and they can even kill. How many suicides have words contributed to?

Words are a potent, precious gift that God has given uniquely to the human race. They carry great and terrible power.

As I considered these things the thought occurred to me that words can also be like ministering angels, pouring out healing on a wounded soul. The picture that comes to my mind is a picture of Jesus in the wilderness, famished and weary from his fasting and spiritually beset by the enemy. God sent his angels to minister to his Son.

Likewise, our words can be like ministering angels to those who are hurting.

A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver.

– Proverbs 25:11 (ESV)

The word “fitly” in this proverb suggests to me not just a word used at the proper time, but also a word that “fits”. We are not called to flattery, to false encouragement, to platitudes. We are called to speak the truth in love to those around us. And to do it in a timely fashion. The writer of Hebrews calls us to exhort or encourage one another daily, while it is called “today”. And “exhort” is a good translation, I believe. Encouragement is not just saying “there, there, everything will be alright.” Encouragement involves exhortation, speaking the truth to someone laid flat out on the battlefield, so that they might be set back on their feet to fight another day. Encouragement can be loud, it can be soft. At times it doesn’t involve any words at all.

Have you ever felt like you should encourage someone but because of timidity or pride or some other reason you didn’t? I certainly have. I’m learning to say words of encouragement, at the right time and in the right way. It takes practice. I can be clumsy with my words.

But a clumsy word is, I believe, far better than the deafening silence of an encouraging word that is never spoken. We all need encouragement. We want others to encourage us – not falsely but in truth and love. Jesus calls us to do to others what we want done to ourselves. An encouraging word spoken at the right time can be like an angel sent from God to strengthen and soothe a wounded soul. And to break through the lies of the enemy, to soften hearts, to knock down strongholds, to break the deceitfulness of sin. A word spoken rightly can be used by God to save a soul from ruin.

I speak thousands of words every day. I pray that mine can be used by God to bring healing, to instill courage, and to reveal his love and glory to others.

But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.

– Hebrews 3:13 (ESV)

Brad over at 21st Century Reformation shares his personal journey into the heart of meekness and mercy:

When I was a new believer I took the words of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount very seriously. We are to forgive every one always. We are to turn the other cheek. We are to rejoice when we are wronged. We are to never say “what an idiot” in our hearts. Anger is sin and must be dealt with ruthlessly. To maintain this standard of heart purity, I worshipped and prayed very regularly and if I felt I had quenched the spirit in any way I would mourn deeply. In many instances, I could not sleep unless I know my heart was totally surrendered. I remember when I was in seminary that if I felt I was somehow unrepentant or lacked conscious contact with God, I would leave class at break and go pray in my room. Little did I know at the time that this life of extreme sensitivity to the orientation of my heart toward love was a good thing.

What a reminder of my need to keep my heart oriented always toward the grace and love of God, and uncluttered with the ugly tatters and heavy baggage of envy, resentment and bitterness. Learning to unburden my heart and cast these upon God is a lifelong education.

For we ourselves were once foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, passing our days in malice and envy, hated by others and hating one another.

– Titus 3:3 (ESV)

Yes, I remember those days well. And I don’t claim to be completely out of their grip. The “old man” rears his ugly head often. But I am now free to live, away from the pain and sin of my past described here.

I remember it well.

I was foolish, disbelieving in God, disobedient to Him, led astray by my own faulty judgment and crooked dreams. I was living to stimulate my nerve endings and my passions. I was envying others, I was unhappy, and I entertained terrible thoughts about myself and those around me.

I live in freedom now. But not because of anything I’ve done. I didn’t do a single thing to earn this freedom. I was not freed because I had met anyone’s expectations, or because I had lived up to any standard.

But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy . . .

– Titus 3:4-5a

It’s easy to picture God as a cruel taskmaster; as a perfect patriarch who is impossible to please. Many Christians (including me) do, at least some of the time. But is He presented in scripture this way? Descriptions of God throughout both Testaments are rife with terms like “loving-kindness”, “mercy”, “loyal love”, “steadfast love”. And that’s what He is. His nature is one rich in mercy, love and kindness toward His fallen creation. I know this because He went to the cross for me, rose again, and has forgiven me and given me His Holy Spirit.

. . . by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.

– Titus 3:5b-7

Such grace! Washing and renewal, poured out on us richly! Imagine that! Justified by His grace so that we might become heirs of the King of the universe!

But doesn’t God have a standard? Absolutely. Was I ever able to keep it? Never. Without His loyal love and mercy, I’m without hope. But because of His mercy, I’m free. Free now to be who He’s created me to be, to do the good works I was never able to do before. As Titus 3:8 states:

The saying is trustworthy, and I want you to insist on these things, so that those who have believed in God may be careful to devote themselves to good works. These things are excellent and profitable for people.

I’m so blessed to be free. Free to pursue the excellent and profitable actions the Lord has ordained for me to do.

May I now, in freedom, do them.

You have given me the shield of your salvation,

and your gentleness made me great.

2 Samuel 22:36 (ESV)

The writer of this song in 2 Samuel 22 is David. David was a warrior, a great king and leader of men. I love the Old Testament passages that exult in the warrior-strength of our God and tell of how He rushes to defend His people; that tell of how He is mighty, awesome, and fearful.

But I love the focus in this passage on God’s gentleness. Notice the result of God’s gentleness – it made David great.

Or, as the NIV renders the idea of God’s gentleness, “You stoop down”. And, of course, our God does stoop down to lift us up. As any good parent knows, “stooping” is a large part of raising small children. With little ones around, a great part of your day can be taken up in stooping – stooping down to look at the world from their level, stooping down to listen to the things that are important to them. We imbue our little ones with strength and power when we, in gentleness, stoop down and look them in the eye, embrace them, smile and tell them how loved they are, and encourage them that, yes, they can.

There is so much power in gentleness. Our Lord came to the world in gentleness, quietly and unobtrusively, and the heavenly host shouted as the shepherds hit the dirt, prostrate and trembling. And He exhibited the power of His gentleness throughout His life, touching and healing the sick, restoring the lame, welcoming the children. He was, by His own prophetic pronouncement, “gentle and lowly”.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me,

for I am gentle and lowly in heart,

and you will find rest for your souls.

– Matthew 11:29

He was also, of course, the King, zealous for His Father’s name; a truth-teller, fearless in the face of opposition. Our Lord Jesus: joyous and weeping, triumphant and weary, He was the Man of all men. In Him was unfathomable power veiled in human flesh; a burning, holy passion with a gentle touch for a world desperate for healing.

Jesus is the One who stooped down for us, and in doing so, gave us the privilege of being called the children of God. I praise and thank the God who stoops!

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.

Philippians 2:5-7 (ESV)

In my opinion, Paul completely nails it in this passage in the second chapter of Philippians.

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus. How often am I willing to take on the form of a servant? But our Lord did not just take on the form of a servant, He also “emptied Himself”.

When you consider that in Him “all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell” . . . I’m reminded of the woman who broke the jar of expensive perfume and annointed Jesus with it. She was merely recapitulating, in a “small and near” way, the act of worship that was Jesus’ life lived unto us and to His Father; the emptying of Himself, culminating in the emptying of the unfathomably priceless perfume of His blood to the salvation of us all.

And we’re called to that same mindset. We’re called to empty ourselves. It is hard to do. Very hard. I like the comfort of being full of myself and I don’t like to lose “me”. And yet Jesus emptied Himself, and, though from eternity He was uncreated God, allowed Himself to be “made”. Made in the likeness of men.

And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

-Philippians 2:8 (ESV)

Obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross! What terrible images, smells, and sounds the word “cross” would conjure in the mind of a first century inhabitant of the Roman empire! Yet Paul is speaking of One who willingly, obediently went there.

“Have this mind among yourselves . . .”

We are exhorted to be of the same mind as Christ, to have His attitude. We have a word for those who willingly give their lives for others, who throw themselves on top of the grenade, who run into the burning building, who take the bullet. We call them “heroes”. Christ is my Hero, my Rescuer. We’re called to be heroes too.

Have this mind among yourselves. It begins in “small and near” ways, in the daily choices of blessed humility over self-exaltation, in the million services that we can provide to those around us. It’s so easy to overlook these opportunities.

It begins there, but a life of obedient service to God and man will train us in the self-forgetfulness that is true humility, and will prepare us for our opportunity for greater love, for deeper and perhaps ultimate sacrifice, for becoming the work of art that God has created us to be. For His glory. That, like the apostles, we will leave the arguments behind about which of us is the greatest, and will pour ourselves out for the One who is, undisputably, the Greatest.

Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

– Philippians 2:9-11 (ESV)

Bob over at Mr. Standfast posted a great Eugene Peterson quote that he saw over at Tabletalk.

But the minute we start advertising the faith in terms of benefits, we’re just exacerbating the self problem. ‘With Christ, you’re better, stronger, more likeable, you enjoy some ecstasy.’ But it’s just more self. Instead, we want to get people bored with themselves so they can start looking at Jesus.

We’ve all met a certain type of spiritual person. She’s a wonderful person. She loves the Lord. She prays and reads the Bible all the time. But all she thinks about is herself. She’s not a selfish person. But she’s always at the center of everything she’s doing. ‘How can I witness better? How can I do this better? How can I take care of this person’s problem better?’ It’s me, me, me disguised in a way that is difficult to see because her spiritual talk disarms us.

This describes me in so many ways. . .

In my observation, living even an intense and God-honoring Christian lifestyle with the focus reversed, with our eyes upon ourselves, leads to burn-out, loss of faith, and disillusion. The self-obsessed Christian begins performing, begins trying to meet an expected standard of behavior and devotion that, without the element of joyous self-forgetfulness that is the very mark of childlike faith, is in the long run impossible, and can only result in a dry and frustrating existence. When one is running in the mud of self-scrutiny, with his peripheral vision constantly scanning the faces of those he believes are looking on, stopwatches out, “timing” him, it’s not long before the runner slows, and then stops, and then slowly sinks into the mire.

This should not be! We are called to firmer ground, and to a cloud of witnesses who are cheering, not evaluating. And we are called to fix our eyes on Jesus, not just to glance at Him now and then. When we finally focus, when we truly look to Him, we forget ourselves. And it’s then that we run, finally, in the freedom, joy, endurance, and athletic, lithe grace for which we were created.

When we’re truly and solely looking to Jesus, we leave ourselves behind in the dust. And that’s when the joy of the run begins!

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

– Hebrews 12:1-2 (ESV)

Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

– Philippians 4:11-13 (ESV)

Of all Paul’s letters, his letter to the Philippians seems the most joyous. I don’t know as much about its historical context as I’d like, although my understanding is that he wrote it while he was in prison. Paul goes hard (that’s Thinklings slang for “Paul is awesome”).

”I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content”

This is an amazing statement. Whatever situation? I think of my own level of contentment; it varies, unfortunately, with circumstances; it’s not unusual to have my contentment gauge pointing at an eighth of a tank or less. But Paul was content, and he lived and worked in conditions and circumstances that would have literally killed us, comfortable progeny that we are of our modern and convenient era.

Notice that with Paul contentment wasn’t something that just happened. He “learned” contentment. Just as joy isn’t so much a feeling or the result of circumstances (it’s actually a command), contentment is something that is learned. I find it interesting that he doesn’t just practice contentment in the low, hungry, and needy times. He had also learned the secret of contentment in times of abundance and plenty. Isn’t that wise? So many people, perhaps you and I, live lives of discontent amid the luxury of the 21st century West – a luxury that the ancient world would not have been able to comprehend. Think for a moment of your clean soft bed or hot indoor shower. A toothbrush. Refrigeration. These comforts were reserved in ancient times for the wealthiest kings, if even them, and most of us enjoy them (and take them for granted) every day.

And what is the secret Paul had learned? “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” As I (slowly) grow in my relationship with Christ the two words that increasingly make me grind my teeth, both when I say them and when those I love say them, are the words “I can’t”. It’s particularly galling because those words contain a seed of truth. There are many things God calls me to do that I “can’t” do, on my own. But He can. He can! Many things I continue to leave undone because I’ve allowed myself to rest, defeated, in the truth of my own inadequacy. But He can. He specifically promises to strengthen me in my weakness as I face life and the challenges, tasks, and struggles it presents.

I think care must be taken with this verse too. People justify all kinds of crazy ventures and activities outside of their giftings and callings by saying “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me”. But the context must be understood. What Paul is speaking of are the hardships, triumphs, emptyings and fillings that he encountered, sometimes in tidal waves, while on the road of God’s mission and will. If we follow Jesus we will receive and live the abundant life He promised, a life with high peaks and low valleys, a life lived with a joy we could never have imagined but also with frequent hardship and trials. And, if we’re wise, as we follow our Lord we will learn contentment and peace, so that the world will marvel.

And when we’re at the end of our strength and our mind is reeling; when we’re gasping out the words “I can’t do this,” God reminds us, gently but persistently, “Of course you can’t, child. I never expected you to do this on your own.”

“But through Me, you can!”