Keeping Strong in Jesus

Paul wrote, “But He [Jesus] said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” (2 Cor. 12:9). So, what is my response to the power of Christ resting upon me? I fully recognize my weakness, but how do I keep my strength up in Jesus? 

Here are a few thoughts: 

1. Look to Jesus. The Word of God encourages us to “…remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose” (Acts 11:23) and yet at the same time, acknowledges that our hearts, as Richard Sibbes (17th-century theologian) put it, are “…very loose and unsettled.” And because of this, Sibbes counseled, “…we must [first] look up to Christ, the quickening [life-giving] Spirit and make our resolutions in His strength.” So in my weakness, I am encouraged to look first to Jesus and pray to Lord God as David did, “…direct [my] heart toward You.” (1 Chronicles 29:18). “This,” noted Sibbes, “is a pleasing request, out of love to God …” And it is a prayer that Jesus will always answer.

2. Soak in His word. Sibbes would also encourage us to “store up [God’s Word] in our hearts, and refresh them often…” There is a tradition that says David used Psalm 119 to teach his young son Solomon the alphabet – but not just the alphabet for writing letters: the alphabet of the spiritual life. And in this way, David told Solomon (and us), “Your Word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” (Psalm 119: 105).

3. Take every opportunity to draw near to Jesus. James exhorted believers to “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you” (James 4:8). Jesus invites me to take every advantage of the unfettered access to Himself that He has given me through His work on the cross: by His word, in prayer, in worship, in solitude, in fellowship, and in serving and loving of others. In staying close to Jesus, His Spirit has the fullest opportunity to show me where my weakness lies and where the enemy has some measure of hold over me. Scripture assures us, “God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation He will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.” (1 Corinthians 10:13). Staying close to Jesus enables us to more swiftly recognize His promised escape routes. 

4. Acknowledge that I am weak. So when I fail, the first thing I need to do is to overcome my pride and humbly confess my sin to God and then allow Jesus to lift shame and guilt from my heart by accepting His complete and total forgiveness. Sibbes ventured that in a believer’s life there can be said to be three stages in overcoming sin: The first is where we try to resist but we are foiled. The second is where, having failed and sought His mercy, His grace then helps us overcome – but it really was a battle! The third stage is where we suddenly discover that by His grace some particular temptation is now under the submission of Jesus. Sibbes is not suggesting that this process is linear. This is no waltz – 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3… For me, it would look more like 1, 1, 1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 1, 2, 1, 2…3! This is perhaps just another way of saying that we are a continuing work in progress, and He is patient and merciful. He has promised “…I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite.” (Isaiah 57:15)

Sibbes offered our loose and unsettled hearts these words of encouragement: “Grace, as the seed in the parable, grows, we know not how. Yet at length, when God sees fittest, we shall see that all our endeavor has not been in vain.” 

I pray that you would know the power of Christ resting upon you and that His grace is sufficient for you.

Fireproof

In the book of Daniel, we are told that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (three Hebrew slaves) disobeyed the King of Babylon in their refusal to worship the golden statue. This was a capital offense, and the three men were pitched into the furnace. Miraculously, they came out unscathed. What was it that made these three friends spiritually as well as physically fireproof?

Friendship

I want to tackle the answer to that question in three parts — beginning with the men’s friendship. In Ecclesiastes 4:12 (NLT) we read, “A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back­to­back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple­braided cord is not easily broken.”

Long before this current trial, God had united these men in the fellowship of His Spirit. And in their daily shared worship and prayer they drew strength in God from and for each other.  Where did we get the idea that we can take care of ourselves spiritually without true fellowship? 

Courage

Before inflicting such a violent punishment on the three friends, the king asks them, “And who is the god who will deliver you out of my hands?” With one heart, they give their answer. “O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter. If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image you have set up.” (Daniel 3:16­18). 

Their courage is grounded upon the Word of God. Here is the Lord’s promise to which they are holding fast: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers they will not pass over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior…do not be afraid, for I am with you.” (Isaiah 43:2­3a, 5a). And upon the fullness of that promise their response to the king — which really is a kind of prayer — could be summarized in three parts: 

  • The prayer begins in first gear with the declaration, “We know that God can deliver us.”
  • Then the prayer picks up more speed and moves into second gear: “We pray that He will deliver us.”
  • Both of these gears are faithful pleas. But then the prayer enters third gear: Their confidence in God remains unshaken, and yet their prayer is not bound by their limited understanding of what they hope God would do for them. In this third gear there is surrender to God’s perfect will. 

When I let God lead me to this third gear, this place of surrender, here I literally feel the temperature drop and His peace enter. 

Faith

Looking on, the King of Babylon exclaims, “But I see four men unbound, walking in the midst of the fire, and they are not hurt; and the appearance of the fourth is like a son of the gods.” (Daniel 3:25.) 

Within the fire they walked free, and out the fire they walked unscathed. So who was the fourth figure? Was it an angelic form? Was He the pre­incarnate Jesus? We are left to make up our own minds. The vital thing is that God fulfilled His promise. It was the promise given to Moses. “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob…I will certainly be with you.” (Exodus 3:6, 12a). 

And yet, when Jesus entered the supreme furnace of affliction that was the Cross, He went alone. Why? Why would God be with these three Jewish exiles but not His only begotten Son? The answer is that on the Cross Jesus was suffering not only with us but also for us. Jesus went through the fire of punishment that my sins deserve so that I could walk free and know His presence today and eternally.

And the same mercy and love that He poured out for us on the cross now distinguishes His living presence in the furnace of our lives today. His promise is secure, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Hebrews 13:5b). I pray that whatever furnace of affliction you find yourself in today, you would feel the temperature decrease as you encounter afresh the promise of His peace and His presence.

Shame, Depart

“Shame, depart, thou art an enemy to my salvation.” – John Bunyan

As we make our way through the “Experiencing Grace” series, I would like to return our attention to the discipline of confession and, in particular, to that part of God’s mercy that must include our forgiving ourselves. There is only one small snag in my master plan: I am horrible at forgiving myself. If I should I feel just a little out of sorts when I wake up in the morning, the first thing I think is “who do I need to apologize to?” So, I am going to give you three solid points on how to apply the Lord’s forgiveness to ourselves, with a necessary caveat. Let’s begin with the three practical tools that follow our sincerely confessing to God what we did wrong (or didn’t do what we should have done): 

1. Don’t accept guilt over what you have confessed to God. Show Him you accept His forgiveness by refusing to feel the slightest bit guilty for what is now forgiven. “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.” (Psalm 103:12, NIV) Imposing guilt on ourselves has a strange way of trying to atone for our past—which is actually competing with Jesus’ work on the Cross. 

2. Hold your head up high, as if you never sinned and therefore have nothing to be ashamed of. We are commanded to enjoy His friendship and forgiveness. “You are my friends if you do what I command.” (John 15:14, NIV). In the goodness of that relationship, He will make your past work together for good as if the whole thing—including your failure—were His own idea. That is the way that the Lord lets us save face. 

3. Boldly and unashamedly ask God to bless you even though you know you don’t deserve it.

You ask, “How can I ask God to bless me? I have been so awful.” Why would He bless you? Because He wants to! “I will make an everlasting covenant with them: I will never stop doing good to them…” (Jeremiah 32:40, NIV). It does not bless Him when you let your unworthiness govern your prayer life. We are all unworthy.

These are three good principles and I commend them to you. I have applied these practical tools and they work… except when they don’t. And when they don’t, it’s because there is something “more” going on that these three points cannot touch: shame. There is, if you like, an appropriate remorse or “shame” that carries a Godly quality. This would be the sort of shame that actually moves us closer to God so that we can receive His forgiveness. The sort of “shame” I am talking about, however, is highly toxic and highly destructive, and it will always move us further away from God. 

Toxic shame will fasten itself to us over something we once got wrong, over something that someone did to us or even over something someone said to us. This sort of shame is like a stain on the soul. It leaves us with the haunting notion that deep, deep down we are somehow defective. We try to ignore it. We attempt to board it up. We move to another city…another country, hoping to shake it. We try waiting around for some sense of “perfection” to come to us—that somehow we will acquire a general sense of our own “good enough-ness” but actually that won’t happen because we cannot self-generate that. This sense of “good enough” comes only from the Father—and we are not about to let Him see our mess! 

The key to God unlocking your soul from toxic shame is not forgiveness. You can’t forgive shame. Those three magnificent principles won’t touch it. Toxic shame needs something else; toxic shame needs to be healed. How is that going to happen? 

1. Mercy: Shame is mercy-less. The enemy takes the worst images, cherry picks the moments that degrade and defile us, and then repeatedly thrashes us with them. And so we imagine that the Lord feels the same way about us that we do. We imagine that if all this really came into the light, He would throw up His arms in disgust and reject us—because that is our response to ourselves. The truth is that He does throw open His arms—but not to reject us, to embrace us. He sees our shame and He has mercy for us. Of the Cross, Paul reminds us, “How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we may serve the living God!” (Hebrews 9:14, NIV). The Lord’s desire is to embrace, cover and cleanse us from our shame.

2. Compassion: And as Jesus embraces us and covers our shame, we begin to apprehend His compassion. We suddenly understand that He knows the pain of our fear. We think, “The truth is worse than what they know…” That is true for all of us. We all have skeletons in the closet. But God has no joy in exposing our past secrets. He has no desire to embarrass you.

3. We are able to see ourselves as Jesus sees us: Fairly recently, I came across a photograph from my childhood. What I saw so clearly was a small boy who still felt (decades later) that if he had been a “better kid” his Dad might have stuck around. This was the place that I was not about to let anybody into—least of all God. As I gazed at much younger me, it felt like a lot of light suddenly rushed into a very dark and lonely place, and in that moment I protested a little, “Don’t you see me?”. It was as if the Lord responded, “Yes, I see you, Drew. But not as you see you. Tell me, am I ashamed of you?” I looked at that old photograph for a long time but finally had to say, “No…I am astonished by this but, no, Lord, I can’t find it in my heart that you are ashamed of me.”

I suspect that I am not alone in living with a shame filled space in my soul. The good news is that we don’t have to. The Cross was most certainly for our forgiveness but, in His mercy, the Cross was also to heal our shame. Jesus went to the place of shame—outside of the city, crucified naked as an outcast—the ultimate public shaming. “For the joy set before Him, He endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:2, NIV) And the completeness of joy set before Him was in our full redemption, forgiveness, restoration and healing; “bringing many sons and daughters to glory” (Hebrews 2:10, NIV).

The Writing on the Wall

There is no unforgiveable sin except for the sin that we deliberately refuse to seek the Lord’s forgiveness. 

Have you ever wondered if you have, somehow, trespassed into a place where you are beyond the reach of God’s mercy? Is there such a thing as an unforgivable sin? Is it possible to exhaust God’s patience and mercy? The life of King Belshazzar, the infamous ruler of ancient Babylon, provides us with an interesting vantage point from which to consider these kinds of questions. 

In the opening verses of chapter five of the Old Testament book of Daniel, we read, “King Belshazzar gave a great banquet for a thousand of his nobles and drank wine with them.” This was nothing too much out of the ordinary for a man of his position.  But then he makes a move of supreme arrogance. “While Belshazzar was drinking his wine, he gave orders to bring the gold and silver goblets that Nebuchadnezzar his father had taken from the Temple in Jerusalem, so that the king and his nobles, his wives and his concubines drank from them. As they drank the wine, they praised the gods of gold and silver, of bronze iron, wood and stone.” This extraordinarily sacrilegious act did not go unnoticed. At verse 5 we read, “Suddenly the fingers of a human hand appeared and wrote on the plaster of the wall, near the lampstand in the royal palace.” This was a troubling interruption to the party. Eventually, Daniel was brought in to translate the supernatural script that neither the king nor the wise men of Babylon could decipher the meaning of. At the center of Daniel’s interpretation were these ominous words to the king: “You have been weighed on the scales and found wanting.” (verse 27). 

So what had Belshazzar done that was rendered unforgivable? To understand Belshazzar’s predicament, we need to consider three questions:

1. What had he forgotten? In response to God’s mercy, King Belshazzar’s father had finally been able to say, “Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and exalt and glorify the King of heaven, because everything He does is right and all His ways are just. And those who walk in pride He is able to humble.” (Daniel 4:37). Belshazzar had spectacularly disregarded this extraordinary spiritual inheritance. He had chosen to forget where his power and authority was derived and he had chosen to forget the Lord’s extreme mercy toward his father. 

Belshazzar’s pride in what he perceived as his total self-sufficiency was even more extraordinary than we may have first imagined. Yes, the banquet was certainly ostentatious, but what is perhaps more outrageous is that even as this Gatsby-like party was taking place the city was under siege by the Mede army. While the king and his guests were drinking themselves under the table, a huge army was literally amassing around the city walls, waiting to break in and seize power. 

2. What had he wasted? Belshazzar was the epitome of the prodigal monarch. His behavior was a blatant transgression of his responsibilities as a king whom God had privileged with wealth and authority. We see this not so much in the size of the banquet as in his motive for it. That he “drank wine in the presence of the thousand” conveys a sense of the theatrical — a sort of obscene inflation of self. All eyes are on him (which is what he wants) and, with their full attention secured, he leads the nobles of the largest nation on the face of the earth in debauchery. Daniel had warned Belshazzar’s father, “Renounce your sins by doing what is right, and your wickedness by being kind to the oppressed. It may be that your prosperity is continued.” (Daniel 4:27). King Nebuchadnezzar had heeded the warning. His son, however, ignored this counsel and spectacularly wasted his authority and the provision that God has placed in his life. Everything we have is given to us by God’s hand. He is generous with us so that we can be generous to others. He brings blessing to our lives so that we can be agents of His healing and transformation.  

But this squandering of wealth and position was not the unforgivable sin. King Nebuchadnezzar’s restored life was testimony to the extreme love and mercy of God. So why does it appear that God’s love and mercy runs dry for Belshazzar? This is found in the answer to our last and most dangerous question.

3. Whom had he cut off? We are told very specifically that Belshazzar “gave orders to bring in the gold and silver goblets that Nebuchadnezzar his father had taken from the Temple in Jerusalem” and that as he and his guests drank from these goblets they “…praised the gods of gold, silver, of bronze, iron, wood and stone.” Belshazzar’s heart was a factory of rebellion against God but in this single act he chose to burn all his bridges. At this point in the history of God’s salvation, the Temple was the one place where God’s forgiveness could be sought. There God was acknowledged, blood was shed, mercy was dispensed and forgiveness given. Under Nebuchadnezzar, the Jewish people had been driven from their homeland and taken into exile in Babylon. These goblets were more than religious trinkets; they were the very expression of the mercy of God. Belshazzar had taken those instruments of God’s forgiveness and praised the gods of gold, silver, bronze, iron and stone. Ironically, through the whole of the book of Daniel, these lifeless elements have pictorially represented the rebellion of man in the face of the living God. In simple terms, Belshazzar was communicating, “God, I defy you and I reject your mercy.” In so doing, he cut himself off from the one place where he could have found mercy. And this is exactly what Jesus was referring to when He said, “… anyone who blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven.” (Luke 12:10b)There is no unforgiveable sin except for the sin that we deliberately refuse to seek the Lord’s forgiveness. 

We are told that when Belshazzar saw the writing on the wall, he was so terrified that the joints of his hips were loosened and his knees knocked. But his terror still did not manifest in him seeking God’s forgiveness. When hefinally called for Daniel and demanded a translation for the mysterious message, he said to him, “…If you can read this writing and tell me what it means, you will be clothed in purple and have a gold chain placed around your neck, and you will be made the third highest ruler in the kingdom.” (verse 16). Daniel told the king that he could keep his gifts but he would read the writing and tell him what it meant. And this is what Daniel said: “God has numbered the days of your reign and brought it to the end. You have been weighed in the scales and found wanting. Your Kingdom is divided and given to the Medes and to the Persians.” (verse 26). Consider Belshazzar’s response to this news, “Then at Belshazzar’s command, Daniel was clothed in purple, a gold chain was placed around his neck, and he was proclaimed the third highest ruler in the Kingdom.” (verse 29).

In Nebuchadnezzar’s darkest hour his response was one of surrender and repentance, and the love and mercy of God flowed. Not so his son. Belshazzar expressed no remorse, no penitence; there was no acknowledgment of God. Nebuchadnezzar raised his eyes to heaven; Belshazzar looked only to Daniel and then continued to exercise his own willful authority. That same night, the Mede army stormed the palace and Belshazzar was slain. “A troublemaker and a villain … who plots evil with deceit in his heart … disaster will overtake him in an instant; he will suddenly be destroyed — without remedy.” (Proverbs 6:12-15)

So, what about us? Where is our remedy? The apostle Paul wrote, “For all have sinned; all fall short of God’s glorious standard.” (Romans 3:23). The clear implication here is that we all certainly need one. Daniel was robed in purple by a king who mocked and rejected the love and mercy of God. John’s gospel tells us, “Then Pilate took Jesus and had Him flogged. The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on His head. They clothed Him in a purple robe and went up to Him again and again, saying, ‘Hail, king of the Jews!’ and they slapped Him in the face.” (John 19:1-3) and “Carrying His own cross, He went out to the place of the Skull (which in Aramaic is called Golgotha). There they crucified Him… (John 19:17-18a). On the Cross, blood was shed, mercy was dispensed, and forgiveness of all our sins was made possible. There is our inexhaustible, unrelenting, continuing remedy. 

Charles Spurgeon wrote, “God’s mercy is so great that you may sooner drain the sea of its water, or deprive the sun of its light, or make space too narrow, than diminish the great mercy of God.” The Psalmist assures us of the same good news: “For thou, Lord, art good, and ready to forgive; and plenteous in mercy unto all them that call upon thee.” (Psalm 86:5, King James Version).

How to Pray with Smoke

How do we pray on those days when our faith feels more like a smoldering wick than a fiery flame? During a recent period of extended sickness there were certainly days when my faith felt tested and was considerably more smoke than flame. On days like those, my prayers generally started with a petition for a day off from being sick; a twenty-four hour pass was about as much as I had faith to pray for. On reflection, however, I see now that I received a great deal more. Here are a few things I learned about prayer and the faithfulness of God on the days when smoke gets in our eyes.

First, if there is any fire in us at all, any inclination to pray (no matter how small we might think it is), it is God who put it there. In Mere Christianity, C.S Lewis observes the extraordinary ways that God takes us in all our weakness and breathes His prayer through us. He writes, “An ordinary simple Christian kneels down to say his prayers. He is trying to get in touch with God. But if he is a Christian he knows that what is prompting him to pray is also God: God, so to speak, inside of him. But he also knows that all his real knowledge of God comes through Christ, the Man who was God – that Christ is standing beside him, helping him to pray, praying for him…The man is being caught up into the higher kinds of life – what I called Zoe or spiritual life: he is being pulled into God, by God, while still remaining himself.”

Second, God is very good at picking out the good parts from the ash heap of my prayers and making sense of my caliginous thoughts. It was tempting to imagine that if I did a better job with my prayer life – if I was a bit more holy – then surely my prayers would please God more. The Apostle James will have absolutely none of this. He reminds us, “Elijah was a man with a nature like ours…” James continues, “and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth.” (James 5:17). Elijah may have been a righteous man, but he was just a man and he was certainly not faultless. A quick study of Elijah’s career as a prophet makes impressive reading but it was certainly not without its problems. Elijah’s prayer life, however, was not founded upon him being perfect but upon the grace of God given to those who, by faith, seek him out and are called righteous. They are the ones who call upon God in the day of trouble, and to whom God says, “I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me.” (Psalm 50:15).

Finally, a seemingly insignificant spark always has the capacity to start a forest fire. A spark has the capacity to enlarge itself and grow higher and higher. In John Bunyan’s classic Christian allegory, The Pilgrim’s Progress, the hero sees water being poured onto a fire that is burning against a wall. He fears that the work of God’s grace is being extinguished by the devil. “But,” we are told, “his wonder grew when he saw how the flames burned higher and hotter. He was then shown the other side of the wall where he saw a man with a vessel of oil in his hand of which he did continually cast, but secretly into the fire. This, it was explained to him, is Jesus who continually with the oil of His grace maintains the work already begun in the heart.”

So how do we pray? At the end of my time of smoke-damaged, gray prayers (however weak and ineffectual I thought them to be), I always found myself, by the sheer grace of God, in a distinctly brighter place. God clearly has more patience with my smokey soul than I do. Writing in the early 1600s, theologian Richard Sibbes would concur. He concludes, from his own smoke-filled heart, “Pray as we are able, hear as we are able, according to the measure of grace received. God in Christ will cast a gracious eye upon that which is His own.”

This year, our church, the Anglican Diocese in New England, is participating in a 24/7 prayer initiative, where individuals and churches will join together to pray for the re-evangelization of New England. If it is on your heart to pray for New England, feel free to join us by signing up for a prayer time slot here: https://www.signupgenius.com/go/30E0B4AABA62BA4F85-adne