God is gracious for no reason outside of himself. Whatever it is that drives his desire to forgive sinners is imbedded somewhere within his being and it isn’t for us to understand. At least not now, not fully.

God forgives to satisfy his desire to forgive. It is as William Gurnall describes:

You know the reason why God stands so long waiting on sinners, months, years, preaching to them; it is that He may be gracious in pardoning them, and in that act delight himself. Princes very often pardon traitors to please others more than themselves, or else it would never be done but God doth it chiefly to delight and glad His own merciful heart. Hence the business Christ came about (which is no other but to reconcile  sinners to God) is called “the pleasure of the Lord.”

I discover profound encouragement knowing that God has forgiven my sins because it pleases him, and not because I have in some way convinced him to do so.

I have recently been provoked to reassess my convictions on various things. This is good. Introspection and reconsideration are good. Willingness to be proven wrong are good. We either come out the other side more attuned to our convictions, or realizing that we were in error.

This is where I am, although I will not dive into specifics. At least not right now.

But at the same time as I am seeking the scriptures to better understand the way I ought or ought not live, I am also being challenge not to allow myself to read more into scripture than is really there. Personally, when I am thoroughly challenged in my conviction (particularly by a respected brother or sister), I will have the tendency to either produce the fault in myself and so win back their approval. Or, for my own conceit, find the justification for my conviction in scripture, whether it’s there to be found or not.

But reading in 1 Corinthians today, I’m challenged particularly by what Paul writes, using Apollos and himself as an example for the church.

1 Corinthians 4:3-5:

“But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you or by any human court. In fact, I do not even judge myself. For I am not aware of anything against myself, but I am not thereby acquitted. It is the Lord who judges me. Therefore do not pronounce judgment before the time, before the Lord comes, who will bring to light the things now hidden in darkness and will disclose the purposes of the heart. Then each one will receive his commendation from God.”

Paul has established that in spite of what others might say about him, his conscience is clean—however, that is not evidence enough in itself to to ‘acquit’ him of guilt. Rather, he explains that it is God who is the only one who can truly judge. For us this means God’s Word.

I find myself in a similar position to the one Paul describes here. Although I have a clean conscience, I cannot be confident on that alone. When I am challenged by a brother, I must accept that perhaps I have misunderstood, misread, or misinterpreted the only right foundation for a clean conscience.

But it’s in Paul’s next words that I’m particularly struck.

1 Corinthians 4:6:

“I have applied all these things to myself and Apollos for your benefit, brothers, that you may learn by us not to go beyond what is written, that none of you may be puffed up in favor of one against another.”

Whether in vindicating myself, or in seeking another’s approval, I should be especially careful “not to go beyond what is written”. I must allow no part of myself to be sacred. Instead, faithfully seek God’s word to establish a right conviction—whether it find me affirmed in the area I was challenged, or find me convicted and repentant of some sin.

But all the while, I rest assure that God’s grace in the blood of Jesus Christ is greater than all and he will guide me to truth, eventually. And in that there will be glory and satisfaction.

The puritan, Ralph Venning (also the author of one of my all-time favorite books, The Sinfulness of Sin) wrote about the grandness of even the smallest sins committed by our leaders. I thought his phrasing was poignant and worth sharing tonight.

“We may occasion other man’s sins by example, and the more eminent the example, the more infectious it is. Great men cannot sin at a low rate because they are examples; the sins of commanders are commanding sins; the sins of rulers are ruling sins; the sins of teachers are teaching sins.”

I gather that Venning’s thought here is also, in part, why “not many” of us should “presume” to be teachers.

But for us in America, I don’t think the most obvious sins are the ones that are transmitted from leaders to congregations. No, those sins we recognize and usually scorn. It’s the more subtle, insidious ones that make it through. Failure to love. Failure to forgive. Failure to steward wisely, and others.

When our church leaders fail to uphold the ultimate worth of Jesus by their lifestyles and their public and private choices, they expand their guilt by permitting their congregations to do the same. Our elders approve the installation of a $10,000 decorative fountain in the atrium of the new church building; the congregation learns that there is no shame in a $40,000 mid-sized sedan, when a $12,000 used sedan would be more than sufficient.

Twice in the last short stretch of Jesus’ high priestly prayer he mentions the concept of unity. And both times he attaches it to the world’s belief.

John 17:20-26:

“I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one,  I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me. Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world. O righteous Father, even though the world does not know you, I know you, and these know that you have sent me. I made known to them your name, and I will continue to make it known, that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them."

He illustrates unity by his own relationship with the Father (a relationship marked by perfect love and respect). “Just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you…”. Then, moves on to express how this unity opens opportunity for the world to believe. He distinctly makes this comparison twice, all within just a few breaths. All of the Word is crucial, but I think we would be wise to pay special attentions to things that God saw fit to say over and over again.

Now, I don’t necessarily believe that the splintering of denominations is a bad thing. In fact, that’s really much to large an argument for right now. But even in the existence of many denominations within our faith, this prayer for unity isn’t lost.

See, when the world looks at the Church and dismisses her because she has splintered into all these different sects, I don’t think it’s the disagreements they’re seeing and responding to, it’s their lack of love, respect and cooperation.

Lets say there were an agency started by two friends. Its business was to help deal with conflict resolution in families. If the two business partners had a disagreement and out of frustration and anger, they broke apart and formed two competing conflict resolution agencies, we would probably have difficulty trusting either one. However, if the disagreement was over the best methods to resolve conflict, and the individuals, in cooperation with each other, decided the best thing to do was to start two different agencies, each with its own unique method—well, then people would just pick the one that’s right for them or their situation.

Well, the Church’s business is love. First for God, then for the church, then for the world. Trouble is, the church fails all three of these. The problem is not unity in a geographical or even theological sense. The problem is love—or lack thereof.

When Christians love God, and love and respect one another, regardless of disagreements over fringe-topics, the unity that Jesus is speaking about here is fulfilled and people do see it. Christians should be encouraged by this, and empowered to love and respect even their brothers and sisters they have disagreements with.

Of course, on a larger level, this is all null and void until the ‘church’ makes love for God and people her main objective— instead of the next gigantic mortgage payment on her brand new church building.

Have you ever read Jesus’ high priestly prayer? I read it today as part of my Bible reading plan. What struck me today, possibly for the first time, were some of the facts that he was choosing to repeat back to his Father. Just take a look at this short excerpt from John 16:13-17:

But now I am coming to you, and these things I speak in the world, that they may have my joy fulfilled in themselves. I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth.

Look at some of the things he says in his prayer. “Now I am coming to you…”. This was part of the plan all along—it was no big prayer induced revelation for Jesus, or the Father for that matter. “I have given them your word…” Again, something the Father is quite clear on.

Throughout the whole prayer Jesus sprinkles requests alongside various divinely understood facts.

I see this as a sort of call to honesty in prayer. There is value in stating the obvious. For example, there have been times where I’ve gotten the impression that people are choosing their prayer language too carefully. As if saying “Lord, I’m hurting right now” and nothing more is somehow invalid because this is something God is already aware of.

But I think this is something we can learn from Jesus’ own prayer. There is value in simply stating things as they are. Sprinkling truth, as far as we understand it, alongside our confessions and thanksgivings and requests. Or sometimes, only stating truth to God, in as much as it is clear to us.

In circles of people with extremely charismatic language, I often hear people say things things like, “The Lord is telling me…” or “I feel like the Lord is saying…”. Whether I agree with that or not is not so much in discussion right now. But what is actually said is.

Before Jesus’ death, he told his disciples that his death was necessary that the Holy Spirit would come. He explained the Spirit’s function in John 16:14:

“When the Spirit of truth comes…[v14] He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you.”

When the Spirit of God speaks to us, it is about Jesus; of Jesus. It is about God’s Word. The Spirit will not speak to us about things that aren’t taught to us from God’s word. This is why the Puritans understood that the modern gift of prophecy is when a person, usually a teacher, is given insight and understanding of God’s word.

You might not agree with that last paragraph, and that’s alright.

What bothers me is when people use the concept of the Spirit’s speaking to a believer as a means to make a point, or convince hearers of their opinions or personal beliefs.

For example, If you’ve dated within the Church, you’ve probably heard something like, “God is telling me I need to be single.” Or maybe you’ve just heard of people saying that kind of thing. In charismatic worship settings (which I tend to enjoy, by the way), you might’ve heard someone say something like, “The Spirit is telling us we need to lift our hands,” or “The Spirit wants us repent of [fill in the blank].”

I strongly believe this language is an abuse of the doctrine of the Holy Spirit. Well, at least about 90% of the time anyway.

When the Spirit speaks, it is to glorify Jesus—namely in the Word of God. It is more sound to say, “God’s Word says [fill in the blank]—I believe we are guilty of this, and should repent.” If this message is truly from the Spirit, this language will still cut people’s conscience and lead to repentance. And if it doesn’t, either people’s hearts are hard or else the Spirit wasn’t highlighting that issue in specific.

Or, perhaps, “I have been reading the word of God and praying and I feel that I need to be single for some time.”

When the Spirit speaks, it is from God’s word, which is about Jesus, of Jesus. And the language chosen is important. There are at least two major dangers in speaking with this kind of hyper-spiritual language.

1. Human beings are a complicated mess of flesh and emotion and ideas. Unless the the word being spoken can be thoroughly confirmed by God’s written word, it can only truly be spoken with some marginal level of confidence. Anything more than that is probably a confidence conjured from elsewhere inside us. Speaking with such presumption is clearly dangerous. Prophets of the old testament who prophesy falsely were to be put to death. That’s not the case today, but the principal stands. Speaking for God when God may not be speaking is big deal.

2. Human beings are also rational, intellectual creatures. These are gifts given to us by God. And, we have a thorough and complete written Word from God. When language such as “God is saying…” is used, it effectively closes the door to disagreement and rational discussion. It makes it impossible for “iron to sharpen iron”.

It is wisdom that we would use our language carefully when talking about the Spirit’s speaking to us and to our congregation. When the Spirit speaks, he is teaching what he has already said in God’s Word to the church.

We should be so hasty as to assume the Spirit is saying what we might think he’s saying but be confident that if he is speaking, it will be heard even if we don’t use such confident language.

One of the things I’ve been finding most interesting as I’m reading through Job this time is the fact that the individuals are talking to each other. The majority of the book is heated debate.

Is Job guilty? is Job innocent? His friends contend that if he is suffering in this way, he must be guilty of heinous crimes. While Job, on the other hand, insists that he is innocent, but God is free to inflict judgment where and when he sees fit and that although he is innocent, God is finding him guilty. Of course, neither is quite true and in the end, God humiliatingly sets everyone straight.

In a sense, the book of Job is one big heated theological argument between friends. I find this interesting. Of all the times to argue over the details.

In all of their arguing, I don’t believe that Job’s friends ever pray for him. In fact, Job only pseudo prays for himself. The debate seems to take place of that. I think this is too often the accepted practice. We all think we’re great at solving each other’s problems—and sometimes we are—but in the end, God will probably have to set us straight and we’ll see we should’ve spent more time praying for each other.