Samuel Rutherford writes:

“The devil’s war is better than the devil’s peace. Suspect dumb holiness. When the dog is kept out of doors, he howls to be let in again.”

Rutherford is right, and we don’t usually think of it like that in the moment. But as he says, we should “suspect dumb holiness”.

What does that mean? It means, that when holiness just happens and we’re not struggling with one thing or another, there’s reason for us to be suspicious. It may be that we’re simply in a time of blessing and rest. But, more commonly, it may mean that we’ve unwittingly settled into a quiet, corrosive pattern of sin, so that the Enemy has no need to make a ruckus.

I know that for me this pattern has generally proven true.

As strange as it may seem from the inside, when I’m struggling it’s usually an indication that I’m in a healthy place. While on the flip side, when all things seem to be going well, it’s usually a symptom that I’m not struggling when or where I ought to be.

Again, not a rule of any kind, but a fairly consistent pattern.

James 4:4 says,

“You adulteresses, do you not know that friendship with the world is hostility toward God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God.”

In the past couple weeks this verse has become a bit haunting to me. I know that it doesn’t speak directly to my situation, but the principals apply nonetheless.

As I’ve been developing a discipline in prayer of the past couple of months, one of the things I’ve tried to make a priority is prayer for the lost. Specifically individuals in or around my life that don’t know Jesus yet. I think this has begun to deepen the seriousness of their plight in my heart and mind. When I’m around them, their spiritual condition is more on the forefront of my mind than it was in the past.

The trouble is, though my mind is there, my actions aren’t following yet.

It was recently that I was out with a handful of believers and about as many non-believers. At some point during the evening, I looked around and noticed that we weren’t too much different from them. At least not obviously. I don’t mean to imply these were particularly rough people. They were friendly, nice enough and weren’t even especially vulgar. But they weren’t loving either.

Neither were we.

And that’s the problem. Not especially loving to each other, to them or obviously to anyone else. I can’t help but wonder how we expect questions about “the hope that we have” when we’re not even obviously different.

Now, please, don’t get me wrong. I’m not suggesting that we dawn exclusively black and white attire, with big hats and belt buckles. Nor am I really suggesting that there should be frivolous encouragements thrown around. I’m simply saying that our choices and actions should be shining with love for each other. That is how the world will know we are Jesus’ disciples–heck that’s how I became a believer.

I can’t help but feel like God is often working in spite of his Church, rather than through it.

It seems that people often read verses in the bible about the way God works through believers and assume that it’s true of them. But simply because the bible says that God does it, doesn’t mean he always does it. And, judging my what I’ve seen throughout most of my walk, in me and in my brothers and sisters, it seems unlikely that those verses are talking about us!

I would like to see, through prayer and Spirit lead sanctification, my own choices and my own attitudes, along with the whole church, shift. So that when the world sees us they will actually have a reason to wonder.

This morning, while studying the Word with a good friend from church, we came upon the encouragement in James 3:17-18:

“But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.“

Just a few verses earlier, James went through pains to get across to teachers that their motives be weighed carefully, for they will be “judged with greater strictness” (3:1). Then, he goes on to expand on just what happens when that is neglected. He says that a teacher with “selfish ambition” is not practicing the “wisdom that comes down from above,” (3:14-15) but instead is “earthly, unspiritual and demonic”. And what’s worse than that, their fruit will not be “righteousness”, but rather, “disorder and every vile practice” (3:16).

Then, in contrast to these detrimental warnings, James offers his encouragement in 3:17-18.

James is contrasting “selfish ambition” with “true wisdom”. If we understand these terms in a true theological sense, I believe we’ll see that our contrast is not much unlike the contrast between pride and true God centered humility.

In James’ immediate context, he is speaking to teachers. He’s saying that you cannot stand up and teach in the pursuit of your own glory, in a selfishly ambitious (literally: “electioneering for yourself, attempting to put yourself foreword“) heart. When this happens, the result is inevitably “disorder and every vile practice”. Therefore, his inverse message found in 17-18 is that a teacher must pursue the humility (the wisdom from above). Any teacher who hopes to see a “harvest of righteousness” must sow in “peace” (true wisdom).

To be sure, this is a gross oversimplification of these verses. Please, don’t misunderstand what I’ve said as thorough. None the less I believe it does have some important words for our leaders today.

I believe there is a subtle pride that can exist in the church. One where ministers look out at their congregations, not desiring for the congregation to give them glory, but desiring the congregation to give God glory. But, to be the one seen as responsible for this great condition amongst the people. They don’t want the praise, they want to be praised for the praise.

It seems likely to me that this is a pervasive problem in church leaders today. And, it seems that it could easily go unchecked, unnoticed, even. But, if James’ words here are true, then we may be looking at one of the reasons the Church at large is in such a sad state right now.

Is it possible that our teachers, saturated in a world of instant communication and media, have sought their own glory in building a God glorifying church? And, if so, is it possible that this is the reason that there is so much disorder, and among so many churches there can be found “every vile practice”? And, if this is the case, will God hear our prayers for mercy, reveal our sin and return the offenders to their first love?

Yes. Invariably yes.

In R.C. Sproul’s The Holiness of God, he brings attention to Isaiah’s commissioning in Isaiah 6:1-5

“I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple… the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke. 5And I said: "Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!"

Sproul shares an insight that is important for us not to miss when we read about Isaiah here. He says:

If ever there was a man of integrity, it was Isaiah ben Amoz. He was a whole man, a together type of a fellow. He was considered by his contemporaries as the most righteous man in the nation. He was respected as a paragon of virtue. Then he caught one sudden glimpse of a holy God. In that single moment, all of his self-esteem was shattered. In a brief second he was exposed, made naked beneath the gaze of the absolute standard of holiness. As long as Isaiah could compare himself to other mortals, he was able to sustain a lofty opinion of his own character. The instant he measured himself by the ultimate standard, he was destroyed- morally and spiritually annihilated. He was undone. He came apart. His sense of integrity collapsed.

Interestingly enough, when we have a “lofty” opinion or our own character, we not only set ourselves up for an awfully painful humbling, but we also deprive ourselves of honest joy. We have to measure ourselves rightly by the standard of God’s holiness in order to truly appreciate the work of Jesus on the cross.

I thought on this Sunday afternoon I would share with everyone a short quotation from the well written Thomas Watson. I stumbled upon this quote while perusing The Puritan Golden Treasury and it reminded me of how sweetly the Lord deals with us; not as we deserve, but with his grace and mercy.

“Whenever God pardons sin, He subdues it. Micah 7:19. Then is the condemning power of sin taken away, when the commanding power of it is taken away. If a malefactor be in prison, how shall he know that his prince hath pardoned him? If a jailer come and knock off his chains and fetters, and lets him out of prison, then he may know he is pardoned; so, how shall we know God hath pardoned us? If the fetters of sin be broken off, and we walk at liberty in the ways of God, this is a blessed sign we are pardoned.”

Watson’s thought here is one that I continually come back to. It’s both uncomfortable and comforting all at once. Scripture is clear that a simple profession will not save a person from the fires of hell. Whether we believe that our salvation hinge purely on the electing power of Christ, or on our true belief in Christ—this thought shouts loudly for introspection and a life lived very seriously.

How can we know we are saved? How can we know we are pardoned from sin? Sin’s reign in our lives will be decreasing and decreasing and although we will still sin we will grow consistently in holiness. So while our holiness will not save us—couldn’t save us—when we are saved, we begin to be holy.

We place ourselves in a dangerous position when we manufacture our own assurance. In truth, sin’s greatest threat is that the assurance of our salvation be broken; if our assurance is broken, then we might plead and beg for mercy, which will lead us to holiness and a more assured faith. Should we fall away finally, we would have found that mercy, grace and true belief were never really ours—the assurance of our salvation would be completely destroyed and in that place of fear and brokenness, we might beg that we would truly be given the mercy and grace that we had feigned.

Jesus, I pray that you would cause a great introspection in your church. I pray that we would look soberly at our lives and in the places we might have been denying or unduly easing our conviction. Jesus, I pray that if you would see fit to allow our assurance to shake, or crack, that you would do so to your glory and in order to establish our faith in you, causing us to truly grow in holiness. Jesus, I pray that where there is false assurance in me and in your church, you would remove it. For the sake of your glory, sanctify us God, by the power of the Holy Spirit.