Luke 2:29-32

I do not know who appeals to you most in the Christmas story, but I have to confess that the charac­ters I enjoy most are the inconsequential people. I say inconsequential, but when I say that you have to understand that in God’s sight these are not inconse­quential at all.

God does not look at those whom the world con­siders important when He does His work. It is as Paul says in I Corinthians, “God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty.” He has chosen the weak in order that He might have the glory.

We have a character—a seemingly inconsequential character—like this in Simeon. Luke mentions him in his second chapter and tells us several things about him. He does not tell us what his occupation was. He does not tell us where Simeon lived. We are told nothing about his rela­tives. We are not told what his house looked like or whether he was rich or poor or well regarded or not well regarded. What we are told about him is that he was righteous (some translations say “just” and “devout”) and that he waited for the consolation in Israel (verse 25).

Now God gave a special revelation to Simeon. The Holy Spirit had revealed to him that he would not see death until he should look upon the Lord’s Christ. He was a sen­tinel. He had been placed in Israel to point out the Christ.

In the opening scene of the play Agamemnon, a sentinel is perched on a hill. When the city of Troy fell, a fire was to be lit that could be seen by this sentinel stationed on a hill a reasonable distance away. He in turn was to light another fire. That would be seen by another sentinel. He would light his fire, and so on, fire after fire, until the mes­sage finally came all the way around the Aegean Sea to the palace of Agamemnon in the lower part of Greece. At the beginning of this play the fire has not yet come, and the sentinel is bemoaning the captivity which is his by reason of this assignment. He says that the fall of Troy and the imprisonment of its people will mean his freedom. While he is giving this speech the fire appears, and he is released. Thus, the drama is set in motion.

Well, Simeon was like that sentinel. I can imagine that every day as he went into the temple area he must have looked about him to see if the Messiah should have come. Is it this one? No! Is that the Christ? No! One day as he walked into the temple, he saw a poor couple—a man who was a carpenter in Nazareth and his wife, both of them probably quite young. They had a child, a tiny one, just a week old.

Immediately the Holy Spirit bore testimony to Simeon that this was the Savior. Simeon did not look on the out­ward appearance. He did not say to God, “But God, how can this be your Messiah? I expected somebody much more important than that.” No, he accepted the revelation as God gave it to him. So he walked over and, I suppose, intro­ducing himself to Mary and Joseph, asked, “May I hold the child?”

Then, holding the salvation of the world in his hands, he broke forth into these few words of inspired song. He said, “Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy Word; for mine eyes have seen Thy sal­vation, which Thou hast prepared before the face of all peo­ple,- a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of Thy people, Israel.” This song is short, but it contains great truths.

First, Simeon speaks of the child being God’s salvation. In the Greek text a special word of salvation is used. The word is soterion, which means “one fitted to save.” Why was He fitted to save? First, because He was God. Only God is equal to the needs of mankind. We are not equal to them. We are still part of the problem, for we carry sin with us. Even when we would do good, evil abounds. Only

Standing Up for Our Rights

Last January, a fifth grader named Stephanie Versher celebrated her birthday by bringing brownies and gifts to her classmates. Among the gifts were pencils printed with the words “Jesus loves me this I know; for the Bible tells me so.”

But just as she was handing them out, the school principal showed up. She grabbed the pencils and scolded Stephanie for violating school policy. And she told Stephanie’s mother that if Stephanie was caught giving away religious items again, she would be expelled.

This was not the first time the Plano, Texas, Independent School District had violated the constitutional rights of kids. As John Gibson writes in his book, The War on Christmas, when children attended school Winter Break Parties—formerly known as Christmas Parties—they were warned not to put anything of a religious nature in goody bags to be shared with friends. Teachers didn’t hesitate to confiscate items like candy canes attached to cards explaining the Christian “Legend of the Candy Cane.”

Parents who helped out at Christmas—excuse me, Winter parties, were told not to bring red or green napkins, paper plates, or cupcakes. After all, these were the colors of Christmas! Nor could students pass out tickets to a popular Christmas pageant held every year at a local church. They were even forbidden to say “Merry Christmas” to their classmates.

Parents met several times with school authorities and finally decided they had no choice but to file a federal lawsuit: Their children’s constitutional rights were being systematically violated.

Sometimes going to court can be the only alternative we have against those determined to defy the law. But Christians must be mindful of how they go about this. And the Apostle Paul offers an example of how to behave when our rights as citizens are violated.

Paul took a backseat to no one when it came to his legal rights. We read in the book of Acts that when Paul was falsely accused by Jewish leaders, and was about to be scourged, he boldly asked a centurion, “Is it lawful for you to scourge a man who is a Roman citizen, and uncondemned?” No, it wasn’t—and the scourging was cancelled.

Later, Paul told Festus, the procurator of Judea, “I am standing before Caesar’s tribunal, where I ought to be tried; to the Jews I have done no wrong, as you know very well.” And then Paul exploited the nuclear option of that day: “I appeal to Caesar!” he said.

But Paul never forgot his Christian witness—even when his listeners were hostile. While behind bars, he witnessed to Felix, his wife, Drusilla, and to Herod Agrippa II. When he was taken as a prisoner on a ship bound for Italy, he comforted sailors during a shipwreck. During his two years under house arrest in Rome, we are told he “welcomed all who came to him, preaching the kingdom of God.”

It’s hard to keep cool when our children’s rights are attacked and when we witness such insane efforts to erase Christian symbols from public life. But even when we are dealing with hostile school authorities—or even when we go to court in extreme cases—remember always that our ultimate goal is not winning earthly battles, important though they are, but souls for eternity. So, protest, but do it always in love.

A Thanksgiving Meditation - Job 5:8-10

But as for me, I would seek God, And I would place my cause before God; Who does great and unsearchable things, Wonders without number. He gives rain on the earth, And sends water on the fields. Job 5:8-10

If you said to someone: “My God does great and unsearchable things; He does wonders without number,” and they responded, “Really? Like what?” would you say, “Rain”?

When I read these verses recently I felt like I did when I heard the lyrics to a Sonny and Cher song in 1969: “I’d live for you. I’d die for you. I’d even climb the mountain high for you.” Even? I would die for you. I would even climb a high mountain for you? The song was good for a joke. Or a good illustration of bad poetry. Not much else.

But Job is not joking. “God does great and unsearchable things, wonders without number.” He gives rain on the earth.” In Job’s mind, rain really is one of the great, unsearchable wonders that God does. So when I read this a few weeks ago, I resolved not to treat it as meaningless pop musical lyrics. I decided to have a conversation with myself (= meditation).

Is rain a great and unsearchable wonder wrought by God? Picture yourself as a farmer in the Near East, far from any lake or stream. A few wells keep the family and animals supplied with water. But if the crops are to grow and the family is to be fed from month to month, water has to come on the fields from another source. From where?

Well, the sky. The sky? Water will come out of the clear blue sky? Well, not exactly. Water will have to be carried in the sky from the Mediterranean Sea, over several hundred miles and then be poured out from the sky onto the fields. Carried? How much does it weigh? Well, if one inch of rain falls on one square mile of farmland during the night, that would be 27,878,400 cubic feet of water, which is 206,300,160 gallons, which is 1,650,501,280 pounds of water.

That’s heavy. So how does it get up in the sky and stay up there if it’s so heavy? Well, it gets up there by evaporation. Really? That’s a nice word. What’s it mean? It means that the water sort of stops being water for a while so it can go up and not down. I see. Then how does it get down? Well, condensation happens. What’s that? The water starts becoming water again by gathering around little dust particles between .00001 and .0001 centimeters wide. That’s small.

What about the salt? Salt? Yes, the Mediterranean Sea is salt water. That would kill the crops. What about the salt? Well, the salt has to be taken out. Oh. So the sky picks up a billion pounds of water from the sea and takes out the salt and then carries it for three hundred miles and then dumps it on the farm?

Well it doesn’t dump it. If it dumped a billion pounds of water on the farm, the wheat would be crushed. So the sky dribbles the billion pounds water down in little drops. And they have to be big enough to fall for one mile or so without evaporating, and small enough to keep from crushing the wheat stalks.

How do all these microscopic specks of water that weigh a billion pounds get heavy enough to fall (if that’s the way to ask the question)? Well, it’s called coalescence. What’s that? It means the specks of water start bumping into each other and join up and get bigger. And when they are big enough, they fall. Just like that? Well, not exactly, because they would just bounce off each other instead of joining up, if there were no electric field present. What? Never mind. Take my word for it.

I think, instead, I will just take Job’s word for it. I still don’t see why drops ever get to the ground, because if they start falling as soon as they are heavier than air, they would be too small not to evaporate on the way down, but if they wait to come down, what holds them up till they are big enough not to evaporate? Yes, I am sure there is a name for that too. But I am satisfied now that, by any name, this is a great and unsearchable thing that God has done.

I think I should be thankful – lots more thankful than I am.

Next Sunday is the last Sunday to bring your shoe box gifts to Living Water.  If you have not already begun packing a shoe box gift, I hope you will consider doing so.  So often we want to give gifts to people we can see so that we can experience a part of the reward here and now (i.e. the look on their face, their thankfulness, and maybe even paybacks).  This is not necessarily wrong!  It is indeed better to give than to receive.  I believe Jesus said this because the immediate rewards of giving far exceed those of receiving.  You are hearing me right!  Please don’t misunderstand me!  I am saying that it is OK to give with the hopes of receiving a reward.  Jesus thought so, otherwise He would have never said it is more blessed to give than receive.  According to Jesus, the blessings are far better for the giver than the receiver.  So go for those blessings!  You in fact have the Lord’s blessing!  Give, give, give and you will be blessed!  But He didn’t stop there.  Not only does Jesus unashamedly tell us to pursue the blessings of giving, He in fact pushes us on to even greater heights and better rewards.   Jesus Himself indicated that it is in fact not only better to give than receive, but it is even better (in terms of rewards) to give without the prospect of receiving a reward here and now, in lieu of a far greater reward from God Himself.  In Matt 6:3-4, Jesus said “But when you give to the poor, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving will be in secret; and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you.”

Jesus was undoubtedly teaching His disciples to go for the greater reward.  “Give in secret!  Give to the poor!  Give to someone you can’t see and who can’t see you.  Give in such a way that you do not draw attention to yourself and your ‘givingness’.   When you do, you will have an even greater reward (in fact an eternal reward) than if you had just merely given for the temporal reward you get here.”   But there is a danger here, especially when giving to the poor.  The reason why it is so important to go for the greater, eternal, heavenly reward, especially when giving to the poor, is because in our sinfulness we have a tendency to think that in our giving we are somehow the ultimate provider of someone’s happiness.  We thus draw attention away from the only One through whom true happiness comes, and we point them to ourselves as though true happiness begins with us.  In other words, we use the poor to reward ourselves by making much of ourselves.  We give for our glory.  We glorify ourselves by becoming the great benefactor of the poor and in doing so we obscure the glory of the Lord who is the author and keeper of all happiness (Psalm 115:3).  This is in fact no reward at all.  It is a deceit that we succumb to far too easily.  It is a cheap substitute for far greater rewards.  That is why Jesus said in Matt 6:2, “So when you give to the poor, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be honored by men. Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full.” A few hand claps is all you get and then your forgotten.

The hypocrite here is the one who says He lives for God and says others should as well, but then turns around and expects the poor to live for him (to his praise).  He expects the poor to see him as the great benefactor and he expects others to see him in this light as well.  This is why he gives each gift in synchronization with the blasts from a trumpet.  His desire is to be seen and savored, recognized and relished.  Rather than bringing glory to the Lord as he was created to do, he in fact steals glory away from the Lord to himself.  Pretending to live for the glory of God, he in fact lives for his own glory.  That is why he is called a hypocrite.  And the real reward of the hypocrite is openly exposed by Christ for what it is – “the honor of men.”  And no one needs to explain how fickle that is.  So the best way to prove we are not hypocrites is:

• To give to the poor!

• To give to the poor who cannot see us and have no idea who we are!

• To give to the poor without anyone else seeing us do so!

• Give so that only the Father sees!

• See through the false allurements of getting the honor of men

• Go for the greater reward

That is what makes the shoe box gifts so great.  It is not only going to someone who neither sees or knows us – but it is a gift inside a plain ol’ box.  It’s kinds hard for us to brag about a gift when it is wrapped tight in a plain ol’ ordinary shoe box.  It’s perfectly geared toward getting glory for God and an eternal reward for those who participate.  I hope and pray you are all interested in the eternal reward only God can give.  Go for it!  I look forward to the joy we will all experience one day as we hear testimonies in heaven about how God providentially used each shoe box we gave.  And I’m convinced it will only be a sliver of the reward that follows.

These two great apostles and friends reunite after years of separation in the ministry of the gospel. As they reminisce, Peter confides in John that his denial of Jesus still haunts him. A story of finding freedom from sins of the past.

For years their paths had never crossed.
John used to smile and say, “I’ve lost
Touch with the Rock.” And Peter thought
From time to time, “I really ought
To find old John.” They hadn’t seen
Each other since the time they’d been
Together in Jerusalem,
When Herod tried to murder them
Like James. They’d said their last farewell
The night that Peter’s prison cell
Was opened by an angel’s hand.
And both remembered how they planned
Some day, somewhere, if God should will,
To meet again. And they could still
Recall the final words they spoke
That night: “O John, don’t let the stroke
That brought your brother down suppress
Your voice and make you any less
A ‘son of thunder’ without James.
The Lord has given us our names!”
“And yours is Peter now,” John said,
“A solid friend with none to dread:
How weak was Herod’s prison lock!
No powers of hell will crush this Rock.”

And that was all. Two decades passed
Without a meeting. Then at last
In Smyrna by the sea the two
Apostles met again. “It’s you,
It’s really you! How are you, John?”
“I’m well, Simon, and you?” “I’ve done
All right, I guess. The Lord is good.
You know my mouth! If Jesus weren’t
A patient God, I would have burnt
In hell a long, long time ago.
Instead I’ve watched the kingdom grow.
O John, the stories we could tell!
It’s true, you know — the gates of hell
Are falling everywhere. The Lord
Still speaks with power in his word.
Have you not found it so? Come, sit
With me beside the fire I’ve lit,
And tell me, brother, what one night
Do you recall with Him that might
Go down in history as the best
And worst of nights?” “The night he blessed
The bread. It was the best and worst.
Why do you ask?” “Because I thirst —
I thirst to drink with him again!
O John, we will be different men.
When He returns, and I am sure
That when we eat we will be pure.
Can you believe the things we said
That night! And scorned the holy bread
Before his very face? The pride
That you and I could scarcely hide
That He had chosen us to bake
The bread and find the room and take
Charge of the meal. And then between
Us both to bicker and demean
Each other’s name: ‘Which is more great:
The sound of Thunder or the weight
Of Rock?’ And when he chastened me,
And showed me his humility,
And laid bare all my arrogance,
Did I accept his second chance
Like you? I strutted like a cock,
And crowed my strength: ‘I am a Rock!
If others turn away and fall,
Not I! At least the Rock stands tall.’
It haunts me, John. At every meal.
It haunts me till I scarce can feel
Forgiv’n. I preach, I heal the lame,
I suffer for the Savior’s name,
And I rejoice to bear the shame.
This is my passion, John, the flame
That burns and burns until I feel
That my heart could explode with zeal.
But I can scarcely lift my head
When someone breaks the holy bread.
It haunts me, John. For twenty years
The mem’ry . . .” Peter broke in tears.
John watched the Rock reduce and melt.
And then the Son of Thunder knelt
Beside his friend and said, “Tell me,
In all these years of sympathy
For God’s lost sheep, as you have healed
The sick, and secret thoughts revealed,
And made a thousand people new,
Has anyone laid hands on you?”
He shook his head. And so John laid
His hands on Peter’s head and prayed:
“The Lord, the Lord, a gracious God,
And slow to lift an angry rod,
Abounding now in mercy free,
And faithfulness for you and me,
Forgiving every kind of sin
That we have ever fallen in.
Come now, O Lord, and touch with me,
Come, Jesus, heal the memory
Come, Spirit, spread a table here:
No sin, no guilt, no pain, no fear.
Come pour the cup and break the bread,
And lift your servant Simon’s head,
And feed him with your righteousness,
And make the cup of blessing bless,
And speak now face to face, O Christ:
‘My body I have sacrificed;
I’ve loved you Peter unto death,
And love you now with every breath
You take. Come friend, lift up your head.
That is the meaning of the bread.
I meant it then; and still it’s true:
My heart’s desire — to eat with you.’”

For generations without shame Iscariot had been a name in Kirioth that everyone could trust, until the only son of Simon came of age and broke his father’s heart. The common folk had thought it strange that Simon stayed unmarried after Mary laid her fevered head on Simon’s chest and died before her swollen breast gave one day’s milk. He never told His parents why, nor did they scold or press him for another wife. For thirty years he lived his life a widower with one great goal: To love his son and save his soul. No one but Simon knew what she had said that night. It was a plea, and full of boding pain. She said, ”I fear, my love, that we have bred a child of woe. And I have dreamed a dream this night wherein it seemed that something out of the abyss is here, and if he should but kiss, it would mean death. O Simon, what have I brought forth, and we begot? What evil deed and endless blot upon the name Iscariot?”

He held her in the candlelight
And fearful quietness all night.

“Dear Simon, can you see the dawn?”
“Not yet. The night is not yet gone.”
“For me it is,” she said, “and O,
That I could take the boy and go!
Or second best: that he had not
Been born! O love, no matter what
He does . . . or is, do not despair
Or sink in utter gloom, or bear
What is not yours to bear. Come near.
Think not that you have failed, nor fear
That God’s unworthy of your trust,
Or that in this he is unjust.”

And thus she died. And Simon bowed
Above her restful face and vowed
That he would marry none, but give
His love as long as he might live
To show his son the path of life
And void the warnings of his wife.

For twenty-seven years he trained
His son in righteous ways, and drained
The reservoir of love and hope
So low at times he scarce could cope
With thankless days and brazen face
And haughty eyes and sore disgrace.
For years the boy stole offerings at
The synagogue, and once he spat
Into the Rabbi’s face when he
Was caught. One time he said, “I’ll be
The keeper of the king’s account
Someday. You watch. And the amount
I steal from him will make this theft
Look like a petty thing.” And so, bereft
Of conscience, Judas mocked the cares
And pain of Simon, and his prayers.
The young men in the village said,
“That Judas-boy would steal the bread
And cup right off Messiah’s plate.”
His father never laughed.

“It’s late,
My son,” he said one night. The men — The older ones — they say, ‘How can A twig, when it is bent, grow straight?’ O Judas, Judas, it is late.
Come, make with me a brand new start, I love you, son, with all my heart.”

For one last moment Judas stood
And looked into his father’s good
And loving eyes. Then took his sack
And headed out the door, looked back
And said, “In three years I will own
More silver than you’ve ever known.”
And he was gone. And Simon wept
For weeks, ate nothing, seldom slept,
And almost sank in utter gloom
But for the words on Mary’s tomb:
“Sink not in darkness nor despair,
Bear not what yours is not to bear:
When you have loved and lost then trust;
The ways of God are always just.”

And so three years went by until
One day, out on the northern hill
Of Kirioth, a large man walked
Before an ass-drawn cart, and talked
To no one on the way. He came
And asked, “Is there a man by name
Iscariot in town?” They showed
Him where the old man lived and bode
His days alone in simple trade.
“Are you Iscariot?” he laid
The rope across his burly frame.
“I am, and who are you?” “My name
Is Peter.” “Yes? What brings you down
To Kirioth? We’re not a town
That people come from Galilee
To see; what might your business be?”
“I knew your son.” Old Simon stared
In Peter’s face. “I knew you cared
About your son, and so I brought
Him home for burial. I thought
It would be easier to know
That he had died than just to go
On wondering.” The old man stood
In silence staring at the wood-
Cased cart. “Is that my son?” he said.
“Yes sir.” “How long has he been dead?”
“I’m not quite sure.” “How did he die?”
“He hanged himself.” “Do you know why?”
“The question ‘Why?’ has many layers,
And, Simon, some are the affairs
Of men and some of God alone.
What we should know we have been shown.
The secret things belong to God
And there are paths we dare not trod.”

The old man smiled beneath his tears,
“You sound like someone many years
Ago.” “Yes, Simon, she spoke well.
My Master sent me here to tell
You that her dying words were true.
And I can vouch that he like you
Has wept beside the mouth of hell.
But, Simon, one is not to dwell
Forever weeping in that place
Nor contemplate the end of grace
Too long. Remember what she said,
And what you wrote when she was dead:
“Sink not in darkness nor despair,
Bear not what yours is not to bear:
When you have loved and lost then trust;
The ways of God are always just.”

Whether it’s the Columbine shootings, September 11, or Hurricane Katrina, in the wake of the initial crisis, an army of grief counselors descends on the survivors. Is that a good thing? Probably not.

In their excellent book One Nation under Therapy, ethicist Christina Hoff Sommers and psychiatrist Sally Satel show how junk science has promoted the notion “that seemingly content and well-adjusted Americans—adults as well as children—are emotionally damaged.” They trace the history of what they call “therapism,” which “valorizes openness, emotional self-absorption and the sharing of feelings.”

This trend was popularized by twentieth-century psychologists like Abraham Maslow. He believed—though he had no scientific proof for it—that restraint was unhealthy and that “self-actualization” and high self-esteem were crucial to human development. It was Maslow who said, “I sometimes think that the world will either be saved by psychologists . . . or it will not be saved at all.”

We see the fruits of that philosophy everywhere. From schools to talk shows, people are coached to focus on themselves and obsess about their own feelings—in short, to “save themselves” through psychology. No wonder that Jim Windolf, writing in the Wall Street Journal, said, “If you believe the statistics, 77 percent of America’s adult population is a mess. And we haven’t even thrown in alien abductees, road ragers or Internet addicts.”

As if it weren’t enough to teach healthy people that they’re emotionally crippled, therapism is most prevalent at disaster sites: Busloads of grief counselors shuttle in—who, the authors point out, are often underqualified. And they offer the wrong medicine.

Valid scientific studies show that self-absorption, or self-pity, is actually the worst possible way to respond to tragedy. Study participants who were told to focus on their emotions and express them aloud actually ended up more depressed than those who tried to distract themselves and find constructive ways to cope.

We have bought into the myth of “therapism” so completely that after every one of these disasters, these armies of “grief counselors” descend upon us. Well, the good news is that some folks are catching on. After Columbine and September 11, even members of the media saw the failure of the therapeutic model. The Washington Post’s Jonathan Yardley wrote, “Surely there are few sights in the contemporary landscape more repellent than that of these leeches attaching themselves to the stunned, bewildered survivors of affliction, demanding that they give vent to their ‘feelings.’”

As I reported in a “BreakPoint” at the time, kids at Columbine were ignoring grief counselors, but flooding the churches. Those kids understood. But the grief counselors, after all, are after clients. That’s what keeps them paid. So after September 11, Sommers and Satel report, grief counselors literally walked the streets trying to recruit patients. One mental health center tried to hire someone to sit in a general practitioner’s waiting room and ask every patient who came in if he or she was having problems dealing with September 11.

No wonder people are getting disgusted with in-your-face tactics and pop psychology. What these people do not need is more high pressure. What they really need is counseling from the Great Counselor.

Further Reading:

Our Sufficiency In Christ
By John MacArthur

Psychobabble
By Richard Ganz

Why Christians Can’t Trust Psychology
By Ed Bulkey

In the past week or so, I have noticed something about my walk with the Lord. I have somehow gotten off track when it comes to confessing my sins. I certainly don’t mean that I started thinking I was sinless! On the contrary, I am very aware of my sinful failings—especially my pride and lack of affection for Christ. However, my response to this knowledge has often been discouragement instead of confession. Here’s how I usually deal with the knowledge of my sin.

• I look at the wretched condition of my heart and I feel sorry about it

• I try to identify what went wrong that led me to this place

• I resolve to do better and I even plan how I will increase my obedience

• I pray for God’s strength to obey, knowing I cannot do it on my own

Sometimes, especially when the same old sin pops up time and again, I feel especially discouraged. I am sick of myself not getting past the sin. I assume God is sick of me, too. I can’t come up with a plan for success, I feel hindered to come to God.

The missing component, I believe, is confession. The words of George Müller and the resolutions of Jonathan Edwards came together and led me back to this conviction. Here’s an excerpt of the words of George Müller from our Mother’s Day Streams of Grace:

I saw more clearly than ever that the first great and primary business to which I ought to attend every day was, to have my soul happy in the Lord. The first thing to be concerned about was not how much I might serve the Lord, or how I might glorify the Lord; but how I might get my soul into a happy state, and how my inner man might be nourished. For I might seek to set the truth before the unconverted, I might seek to benefit believers, I might seek to relieve the distressed, I might in other ways seek to behave myself as it becomes a child of God in this world; and yet, not being happy in the Lord, and not being nourished and strengthened in my inner man day by day, all this might not be attended to in a right spirit.

Being happy in God seems elusive when the guilt of besetting sins badger your soul. This is where the words of Jonathan Edwards come in:

Resolved, whenever my feelings begin to appear in the least out of order, when I am conscious of the least uneasiness within, or the least irregularity without, I will then subject myself to the strictest examination. July 4, and 13, 1723.

When I took the time to identify the source of my discouragement, I came face to face with my sin and the need to honestly confess it to my Lord. With only a small glimmer of hope, I set out to honestly empty my heart to God. That’s when something unexpected happened. The act of confessing freed me from the weight of my sin, even when I had no concrete plan for future success. This so encouraged my soul that I set out to draw near the Lord and bask in his cleansing and forgiveness. 1 John 1:9 says, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

Confession is not only something for unbelievers to do at the point of salvation. In fact, the book of First John was written to believers. Ironically, the book that sets me to wondering about my own salvation by its stark presentation of light and dark also leads me to peace with God through confession. Confessing the darkness within is actually a component of walking in the light! So I encourage you to confess your sins to the Lord (and to the body of Christ–James 5:16) with hope in your hearts. Confession is, indeed, good for the soul.

Mother knows Best! Isn’t that how the old saying goes? But what do Mother’s know best? Among other things, I think they know better than anyone else that Motherhood is the most difficult task ordained on this earth. Just ask any Mother! And although there are many successful mothers, because of the difficulty level there are also many, many failures. In Psalm 1 there is a contrast painted between the wicked and the righteous. See if you can see what sets the two apart, not only in their actions, but in the effects of those actions. “Blessed is the [mother] who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but her delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law she meditates day and night. She is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that she does, she prospers. The wicked are not so, but are like chaff that the wind drives away. Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous; for the Lord knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish.”

Isn’t it amazing that the mother (or anyone for that matter) who simply reads a particular book is changed from chaff to a healthy tree planted by water – from the Valley of Death to the Butchart Gardens? Who in their right mind wants to be chaff – small, insignificant, weightless, rootless, fruitless and useless. There is a yearning and a deep desire in all to draw strength from some massive ocean of reality and as a result become fruitful, successful, useful and significant. That ocean of reality is the Word of God and every great Saint is great because they were made great by that book. I give you the example of George Müller and pray that his own testimony would become our testimony, especially the testimony of those who have the most difficult job in the world.

“While I was staying at Nailsworth, it pleased the Lord to teach me a truth, irrespective of human instrumentality, as far as I know, the benefit of which I have not lost, though now, while preparing the eighth edition for the press, more than forty years have since passed away. The point is this: I saw more clearly than ever, that the first great and primary business to which I ought to attend every day was, to have my soul happy in the Lord. The first thing to be concerned about was not, how much I might serve the Lord, how I might glorify the Lord; but how I might get my soul into a happy state, and how my inner man may be nourished. Before this time my practice had been, at least for ten years previously, as a habitual thing, to give myself to prayer, after having dressed in the morning.

Now I saw, that the most important thing I had to do was to give myself to the reading of the Word of God and to meditation on it, that thus my heart might be comforted, encouraged, warned, reproved, instructed; and that thus, whilst meditating, my heart might be brought into experimental communion with the Lord. I began, therefore, to meditate on the New Testament from the beginning, early in the morning. The first thing I did, after having asked in a few words the Lord’s blessing upon His precious Word, was to begin to meditate on the Word of God, searching, as it were, into every verse, to get blessing out of it; … for the sake of obtaining food for my own soul. The result I have found to be almost invariably this, that after a very few minutes my soul has been led to confession, or to thanksgiving, or to intercession, or to supplication; so that though I did not, as it were, give myself to prayer, but to meditation, yet it turned almost immediately more or less into prayer.

When thus I have been for awhile making confession, or intercession, or supplication, or have given thanks, I go on to the next words or verse, turning all, as I go on, into prayer for myself or others, as the Word may lead to it; but still continually keeping before me, that food for my own soul is the object of my meditation. The result of this is, that there is always a good deal of confession, thanksgiving, supplication, and intercession mingled with my meditation, and that my inner man almost invariably is even sensibly nourished and strengthened and that by breakfast time, with rare exceptions, I am in a peaceful if not happy state of heart.

The difference then between my former practice and my present one is this. Formerly, when I rose, I began to pray as soon as possible, and generally spent all my time till breakfast in prayer, or almost all the time. At all events, I almost invariably began with prayer, except when I felt my soul to be more than usually barren, in which case I read the Word of God for food, or for refreshment, or for revival and renewal of my inner man, before I gave myself to prayer. But what was the result? I often spent a quarter of an hour, or half an hour, or even an hour on my knees, before being conscious to myself of having derived comfort, encouragement, humbling of soul, etc.; and often, after having suffered much from wandering of mind for the first ten minutes, or a quarter of an hour, or even an hour, I only then begin really to pray. I scarcely ever suffer now in this way. For my heart being nourished by the truth, being brought into experimental fellowship with God, I speak to my Father, and to my Friend (vile though I am, and unworthy of it!) about the things that He has brought before me in His precious Word.

It often now astonishes me that I did not sooner see this. In no book did I ever read about it. And yet now, since God has taught me this point, it is as plain to me as anything, that the first thing the child of God has to do morning by morning is to obtain food for his inner man. As the outward man is not fit for work for any length of time, except we take food, and as this is one of the first things we do in the morning, so it should be with the inner man. We should take food for that, as every one must allow. Now what is the food for the inner man? Not prayer, but the Word of God; and here again not the simple reading of the Word of God, so that it only passes through our minds, just as water runs through a pipe, but considering what we read, pondering over it, and applying it to our hearts.

I dwell so particularly on this point because of the immense spiritual profit and refreshment I am conscious of having derived from it myself and I affectionately and solemnly beseech all my fellow-believers to ponder this matter. By the blessing of God I ascribe to this mode the help and strength which I have had from God to pass in peace through deeper trials in various ways than I had ever had before; and after having now above forty years tried this way, I can most fully in the fear of God, commend it. How different when the soul is refreshed and made happy early in the morning, from what it is when, without spiritual preparation, the service, the trials, and the temptations of the day come upon one!”

Have you ever done something really well and nobody commented on it? Has the experience left you feeling incomplete? I know I should be doing everything for God’s approval, not that of mankind. And yet, I am amazed at how programmed I am to look for commendation from others, rather than from God. It sickens me to see how my pride is constantly crouching around the corner every moment of every day. In 1 Corinthians 4:7 Paul says…

“For who sees anything different in you? What do you have that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if you did not receive it?”

So, in actuality, anything good that I have done is a result of the grace of God in my life. God saved me when I was dead in sin, opened my eyes to his truth, convicted me of sin and urged me on to obedience—all in His power and for His glory! I have nothing to boast about.

In the Blazing Center class on Wednesday evenings, we have been reflecting on how God is most glorified when we are most satisfied in him. God is loving us when he commands us to praise Him because that will bring us our greatest, most long-lasting joy. What gets in the way of all this joy? If you’re anything like me, it’s usually an exchange— Romans 1:25 says…

“…because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen.”

Mark Dever, pastor of Capital Hill Baptist Church in Washington DC, reminds us that this is the same exchange we made the last time we sinned. When we crave praise for ourselves, rather than willingly giving praise to God, isn’t that an example of the exchange? We think that receiving commendations and compliments will make us happy, when in fact turning our eyes toward the glorious Creator and Giver will bring true satisfaction and the gift of self-forgetfulness.

In Life as a Vapor, John Piper says that God hates for man to boast in man… “Boasting in man deflects man’s attention from the Fountain of his joy and so ruins his life. It tricks man into replacing Magnificence with a mirror. Man was not man to admire man. He was made to admire God. The joy of admiration is prostituted and ruined when man tries to find galaxy-size Glory in the glow of his own reflection.”

What about when we are the ones giving the compliments? What would be the most loving way to compliment those around us? Wouldn’t it be to point them to God? I love my daughter, Mandy, but I see her bourgeoning pride positioning itself to take center stage in her little life. We all struggle with pride, no matter our age. None the less, I want to be a truly loving parent, guiding her to place Jesus in the center rather than herself. Yes, we are all tempted toward the sin of pride, but listen to Matthew 18:6-7…

“…but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea. “Woe to the world for temptations to sin! For it is necessary that temptations come, but woe to the one by whom the temptation comes!”

What kind of complements should I give Mandy, then? Instead of saying, “You’re so smart!” Maybe I could say, “Hasn’t God given you an intelligent mind? I wonder how He will use your intelligence for His glory.” And when you receive a compliment, take that as an opportunity to praise God and witness to his grace in your life. For example, instead of saying “Thank you,” you could say, “I am thankful for God’s blessing in my life; it always reminds me of His goodness and grace!”

I am not saying that compliments should cease, but I am encouraging you to rephrase your compliments so they will accomplish three things:

1. They will cause you to set your eyes on the glory of God
   

2. They will cause the recipient to set their eyes on the glory of God
   

3. They will not tempt us toward the devious sin of pride

Compliments are an everyday part of our lives—both the ones we give and the ones we receive. Let’s make the most of this opportunity to glorify God and not feed our pride!