Friday, April 28, 2017

I Thessalonians 3:10 – “Questions”


As always, here’s my fairly literal translation of these verses:

10night and day praying exceedingly into to see your face and to mend the deficiency of your faith.

The NIV does a nice job of smoothing out this verse and translates it, “Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you again and supply what is lacking in your faith.”

I have been pondering the last phrase “and supply what is lacking in your faith.”

This is going to be a post where I ask lots of questions and offer few answers. If I live long enough and learn enough, I might someday read this post and be able to answer my own questions, but for now, I’ll just ask them – with the hope they might stir someone else’s mind to ponder the same things.

“What is lacking in your faith.” First of all, you probably couldn’t even say this to a group today. People say they aren’t perfect, that they need to grow, but try telling them their faith is lacking –then watch the fangs and claws come out. “Lacking!?”

Yes. Lacking.

But that’s the easy part. We can all agree, of course, no one is perfect. Everyone still needs to grow.


But I suspect there is something we do not understand about this whole subject.

We say we all need to grow, we’re all just learning. But what about all the verses that distinguish between the “mature” and “immature?” If we’re all “just growing,” all just working our way through the growth process, why are some called “mature” – as if there is in fact some sort of level that can be attained (and apparently some do).  Here are some verses that call out such a distinction:

Heb 5:12-14 – “For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you have need again for someone to teach you the elementary principles of the oracles of God, and you have come to need milk and not solid food. For everyone who partakes only of milk is not accustomed to the word of righteousness, for he is an infant. But solid food is for the mature, who because of practice have their senses trained to discern good and evil.”

Eph 4:13-15 – “… until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming.

Phil 3:15 -- All of us, then, who are mature should take such a view of things.

James 1:4 -- Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

So, based on verses like these, there apparently are believers who can be said to have attained some level of spiritual growth where they can be described as “mature,” while there are others who may in fact be “growing” but haven’t attained that “level.” Someone may object at this point, “Well, duh. Everybody knows some believers are ‘mature’ and others aren’t.” But what does that even mean? How do we decide someone is “mature?” How does one know when they’ve reached “it?” And – if we acknowledge “it,” then we are acknowledging it’s not true, “We’re all just growing.”  I would suggest that there is in fact a difference between the “growth” that needs to go on in a new or young believer’s life, and that which is needed for someone who has attained to whatever this “mature” category means.

I honestly don’t have the slightest clue what I’m talking about, but I wonder if it comes back to my lifelong pondering of linear versus fractal logic. Perhaps the reason we struggle with this idea is because we are seeing growth as a linear thing – I grow in this, then that, then this, then that – when in reality it is about a pattern. Of course, what we are shooting for is in fact a pattern – it is the likeness of Christ – as it says in Eph 4:13, attaining to “the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.” We can add to this Rom 8:29, “For those God foreknew He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son …” Jesus is the pattern.

Now why is it significant we’re talking about a pattern rather than just a string of advancements? When we are first saved, obviously our lives have little that looks like the pattern of Jesus’ life. Everything that is not like Him, that doesn’t fit the pattern, needs to go. That is particularly the challenge of a younger believer. But even if it is true that some people significantly attain to the pattern, become significantly “like Christ,” I would maintain they still need to “grow,” only now it’s a matter of developing the pattern. What I mean is, with a pattern, you can always make more of it and you can make it bigger, and it’s still the same pattern – so at that point, a person could be described as “mature,” meaning their life really is significantly “like Christ” but they still can be continuing to “grow” – to express Christlikeness in more and bigger ways. But again, that “growth” is something different from the younger believer who is primarily weeding out all those areas of their life where they are significantly not “like Christ.”

So all the way back to our passage in I Thessalonians, when Paul speaks of “supplying what is lacking in your faith,” could it be that he has in mind the younger believers’ problem – that there are still major areas of the Thessalonians’ lives that don’t fit the pattern of Christ, that Paul being torn away early from them was painfully aware of their need for “maturity?” Given the idea of maturity being a pattern, the idea of their faith “lacking” would fit well for the Thessalonians. They were “young” believers. Perhaps with “mature” believers the problem isn’t so much “lacking” as just needing more of the same? Paul will go on in 4:9,10 to commend their love, then say, “Yet we urge you, brothers, to do so more and more.” They had attained a part of the pattern – now the charge is to make more of it.

Hmmmmmm. Lots of questions. Few answers. I feel like I’m scratching all around something I should understand but still don’t. In theological terms, I’m suggesting our doctrine of progressive sanctification is perhaps itself deficient. It contains no acknowledgment of a distinct difference between “mature” and “immature,” what that even means, and how a proper understanding would then affect how we address different people’s “growth.”

Just to throw in a dog bone, I also wonder if we don’t have trouble seeing any of this precisely because no one is “mature?” At least what I have seen in American evangelical Christianity, I think our Wesleyan Arminianism has so infected our faith that no one becomes mature. Our Arminian error means we have all substituted “busy-ness” for real spirituality. People who are busy “serving the Lord” are hailed as “mature” when in fact their lives are very often marred by a great deal of pride and selfishness. The Martha’s of faith get exalted, but where are the Mary’s who’ve made it their passion to “sit at His feet” and drink deeply of His heart? How can anyone become “like” Him if we are all so busy “serving” Him, we have no time to know Him?

I believe there was a time when people were “mature.” As I read the writings and lives of people who lived before the scourge of Wesleyanism infected the church, I read of people who really did “know their God.” I can read their commentaries and derive great benefit, can actually learn deep and significant truths about God and about life. Then, after about 1800, for the most part Christian writing became almost unbearably shallow. The 1800’s still had their Charles Spurgeon and their J.C. Ryle, but those men were even acknowledged as “the last of the Puritans.” In other words – something had changed. The “faith” of the church became something other than that which was true during that period of 1500 to 1800. And I am suggesting the change was not good.

I should add that I am at times heartened by the music many young people are writing today. Much of it is still the same old Arminian clichés but still there are many writing like people who do in fact sit at Jesus’ feet and drink of His heart. I hear young people singing thoughts I’ve just learned to think in the last few years of my 50-something life. I also hope maybe it’s just American Christianity that is so infected, that perhaps I’m only seeing my “corner” of the world. Maybe there are entire people groups of faith out there whose sincere goal is to know God and to fill their own hearts with Jesus. But again, I’m suggesting that, here in America, it might be hard to answer these questions about spiritual maturity precisely because no one is.

Well, better wrap this up. Lots of thoughts. Lots of questions. Some ideas.

I love to study the Bible. I love exactly times like this, where it is obvious there is something I don’t understand. That means there is something the Lord will teach me (eventually) that will rock my world, and, as Jesus said, “When you know the truth, the truth shall set you free!”

May there be more Mary’s in this world!

Monday, April 24, 2017

I Thessalonians 3:9 – “Joy”


As always, here’s my fairly literal translation of these verses:

9For to what are we able to recompense gratitude to God concerning you upon all the joy with which we are rejoicing because of you before our God?

Hmmmm. Joy.

Joy is something I find a very interesting subject.

I would suggest that we, as the modern evangelical American church, actually know very little about this thing the Bible calls joy. I rather suspect we confuse it with happiness. I have lamented for years that I found in my own heart very little of this thing the Bible calls joy – as I pondered over the fruit of the Spirit in Gal 5:22-24, I felt I could say I had grown in each of the fruits – except joy. I remember knowing a man years ago who was described as “joyless and grim.” I feared in reality that was me. I could certainly find joy in my heart as I thought about the Lord, about salvation, grace, Heaven, my wife, my children, and so on, but as I turned to survey my own life, it just seemed like the overwhelming sense was pain.

So at one point, I actually prayed that the Lord would teach me something, change me somehow, and actually let me know something of this thing He calls joy.

I’m very happy (no pun intended) to say that He has answered that prayer. I actually have begun to have a sense of this thing He calls joy. It is perhaps only a flicker, but it is there nonetheless, a window of His light in the darkness of this world.

As I ponder the verse before me, I actually think I see the commonality with what I’ve discovered in my own life. I’ll see if I can articulate it. Paul is here “rejoicing in all the joy” he has because of the Thessalonians. He wants to give thanks to God, and the joy he’s having is “in the presence of God.” First of all, why are the Thessalonians giving him such joy? It is because their lives, their faith, their love are to a large extent exactly what they should be. The pattern is right. And I would suggest it isn’t simply that they’re doing what Paul thinks they should, therefore they make him “happy.” It is much larger than that.

God has a pattern. He created us. He created our world. In a sense, righteousness is just us conforming our lives to that pattern. And conformance to that pattern makes the world seem “right” to us. We like to think we’re “free” and can make it all be what we want it to be. But there will only be “joy” when it all fits God’s pattern. That is because nothing else can work. This is God’s world, not ours. Our world will only make sense, it will only fit together in a soul-pleasing way when it follows God’s pattern.

And other people can be a source of great joy to us, when their lives are fitting God’s pattern. It might make us “happy” if they “do what we want,” but they will actually give us “joy” when it is all right, when they’re doing “right.” As Paul hears Timothy’s report, he experiences great joy because he hears the Thessalonians are doing right.

And it is of monumental significance that Paul sees the thanks going to God and that his joy is “in the presence of God.” The whole business of “right” only makes sense with God in the middle.  Leave Him out and the whole world is a tossing sea of conflicting opinions and meaningless events. Include Him and only then can it all “make sense.” And this is where I see this verse connecting with what I myself have been learning. I see now that I have always thought of all of this as “my life,” that I was living “my life” and I needed God to step in and help me with it all. “My life” was such a precarious thing. It seemed a considerable struggle to try to make it all fit together, to make it all work out, and by and large, it simply didn’t. As I said above, it has always seemed to me to just be too much of a world of pain.

But what I’ve been learning is that it isn’t “my life.” It is His life. It’s not a matter that I need Him to step in and help me with my world. It’s a matter of me being a part of what He’s doing in His world. And the truly wonderful – even joyous – thing about His world is that, in it, everything fits together. In His world, even the pain is for a grand, eternal purpose. Even the “wrong” of this world is only allowed because He, in His unfathomable wisdom, sees some good purpose in it.

For example, the crucifixion of Jesus was the greatest wrong we humans ever committed. It was tragic that such a great and good man was ruthlessly murdered, that the Jewish people killed their own long-awaited Messiah. But that is how we see it in “our” world. In God’s world, He Himself was providing the eternal salvation of the entire human race. From Peter or John or Mary’s perspective, it was a horrible, dark day in “their” lives. But in God’s world it was the greatest day in human history. They couldn’t have been happy about what was happening, but, if only they could have seen it all through God’s eyes they could have, like Jesus Himself, “for the joy that was set before Him” endured the Cross, endured that day, and actually seen the joy of how it all fit perfectly in God’s world.

The Thessalonians brought great joy to Paul because their lives were right. And it was a joy to Him specifically because Paul could see it all as a part of the wonderful world God Himself has created and over which He reigns.

Like the Thessalonians, you and I can be a “joy” to others when we’re sincerely trying to let Jesus live through us, when we’re ordering our lives according to the pattern He desires – His pattern of faith and love. And we ourselves will find joy only as we deliberately choose to see all of this as part of His world, as we try to live minute by minute seeking to be part of what He is doing, not just living “our” lives and hoping He helps us with it all.

In Him it all makes sense.

In Him we can actually know joy.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

I Thessalonians 3:6-8 – “Real”


As always, here’s my fairly literal translation of these verses:

6But now, Timothy coming to us from you and bringing good news to us [about] your faith and love, and that you always have good memories of us, longing to see us, just as we you. 7Brothers, because of this we are comforted upon you upon the all our distress and affliction because of your faith, 8because now we live if you stand firm in the Lord.

“…because now we live if you stand firm in the Lord.”

As I have been pondering these verses, I am struck by just how much Paul really did love these people. Really. I’ve said before, if this were a parent writing to one of their children, it would be more understandable. But it is not. Here Paul is talking about longing to see these people, about not being able to stand it not knowing how they’re doing, about how he actually finds great comfort in his own hardships just knowing that in fact they’re doing okay, and being able to say, “now we live if you stand firm in the Lord.”

Is this kind of intense love normal? For parents toward their children, yes. Toward other people? I don’t think so. Someone may say, but this is the love of a spiritual father toward his children – a minister toward the people he has led to Christ. That sounds ideal but have you ever seen it in the real world? Do you honestly know anyone like that?

As I turn the gun of conviction on my own heart, I know I don’t love people like that. I like people. I certainly wish and pray the best for other people. I’m glad when they succeed. And I can be sincerely saddened to see them suffer. But Paul’s kind of parental love – a heart that rises and falls on others’ well-being – is not what I find in my heart.

I pondered this same observation back when I was studying 2:7,8. I noted there and will say it again, what is this powerful love that this man Paul had? Is it not simply the love of Jesus? Is it not simply the love of our God for each and every human being? I think the obvious answer is yes. It is His love. And how did Paul get it? By drinking deeply of his own relationship with Jesus – so much so that he actually loved like Jesus. Really.

Which brings me back to myself. The thought is both convicting and encouraging. It is convicting because the lack of love I find in my own heart tells me I need to drink more deeply of my relationship with Jesus. It is encouraging because I know that is exactly what does happen – the closer I get to Jesus, the better I know Him, the more He moves me to see other people through His eyes – and to love them. I’m not “there” yet. But He is moving me that way.

I know He said in the last days “the love of many will wax cold.” I wonder if that isn’t what we’re living. If that is the spirit of our age, then all the more I pray He will deliver me from it. He is our hope. “Beholding His image, we’re changed into that image, from glory to glory.”

I also want to note that what particularly encouraged Paul in the Thessalonians was their “faith and love.” It is well to be reminded those are the cornerstones of life itself. In Galatians 5:6, he wrote, “The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.” If we would have more of anything, would that it were faith and love our hearts desired. Then no matter what else we gained we could say, “It is well.”

I will close this by saying the Lord has used these verses to show me how little love I really have in my own heart, but He also greatly encourages me because He reminds me the way to “fix” that problem is to know Him better. To know His heart is to change mine.

Lord, as we go out to live, even if this is an age of “cold love,” may Your love truly find a home in our hearts, and may it somehow touch the hearts of all these people You love.

Thursday, April 13, 2017

I Thessalonians 3:3-5 – “Life is Hard”


As always, here’s my fairly literal translation of these verses:

3No one to be disturbed by these afflictions for you yourselves know that we are appointed into this, 4for we were also telling to you beforehand when we were with you that we are going to be being distressed, just as it happened, as you know. 5And I, holding out no longer, because of this sent to know your faith, lest the tempter tempted you and our fruit had become into emptiness.

Life is hard.

For everyone.

But for believers, we actually have the privilege of knowing it’s all for a reason. “No one [should] be disturbed by these afflictions for you yourselves know that we are appointed into this…” Pain doesn’t “just happen” to us. We are “appointed into it.” We are destined for it. “We must go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22). Immaturity may make us think as Christians that somehow we should be exempted from pain, but that simply isn’t the case. This should be apparent in the Bible from cover to cover, from the lives of believers who’ve gone before us, and certainly from our own experience. It should be. But this delusional presumption of favored exemption seems to be a weed that dies hard in our hearts.

Peter warned us, “Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you” (I Peter 4:12). He had said earlier in that book, “These [troubles] have come so that your faith – of greater worth than gold – may be proved genuine …” (1:7).  His words sound like James, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you fall into various troubles, knowing that the trying of your faith develops endurance” (1:3). Jesus Himself warned us, “In this world you will have trouble…” (John 16:33). The psalmist complained, “The enemy pursues me, he crushes me to the ground … so my spirit grows faint within me; my heart within me is stunned” (Ps 143:3,4).

I remember someone who suffered a terrible loss then later confided in me they were really struggling with it all because they thought God had promised to protect them from such horrors. They said, “I know we have to suffer, but I didn’t think God would allow something this bad.”

I suppose we should remind ourselves that Jesus never did anything but love God and love people and He got crucified. How we get it in our heads that we deserve better is perhaps a mystery of our sinful pride. But, as Paul is telling the Thessalonians, rather than playing all our mind games and dreaming of our favored exemption, we instead need to acknowledge that troubles – and even really painful ones – are simply part of the plan. We’re destined for them.

And, again, that may seem a strange way to encourage people – to tell them the faith to which you’re inviting them will come with pain and sorrow – as Paul said, for we were also telling to you beforehand when we were with you that we are going to be being distressed, just as it happened, as you know” – but the reality is that, in this world, you will suffer with or without faith. Life is hard. For everyone.

The difference for us lies in the greatness of our God and the wonder of salvation. While a believer goes on living in this world of trouble, suddenly he finds those troubles have been divinely commandeered for his greatest possible eternal good – that they become one of the primary means by which the Lord prunes away my pride and selfishness. In this there is great hope and encouragement. I don’t want to be who I was. I don’t want to be who I am. I want the Lord to do what He has to in order to change me. I’m glad He isn’t deterred by all my whining!

On the other hand, the certainty of trouble moves us to holy fear and humility, knowing how easily I fail. Paul worried over the people, “lest the tempter have tempted them and his fruit turn out to be empty.” “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Jesus told Peter, “Watch and pray lest you enter into temptation.” In his pride, Peter boastfully responded, “I’m ready to die for you!” then when he should have been praying, he was sleeping, and failed horrendously. This is a sad thing to say, but I think I have just recently learned the truth of Jesus’ warnings. I fear my whole Christian life I have arrogantly thought somehow I could “do it.” But now some 40 years into it, I look back and see how completely I have failed the Lord almost constantly. I have of course done a few things right, but overall, my life is just another version of Peter’s failure.

I am finally now learning all day every day to be praying, “Lord, help me not to fail you.” The plain simple fact is that I will. Even as I imagine somehow I “can handle it,” I’ll be failing at whatever it is the Lord is really trying to accomplish. I ought to live in holy fear of myself! I ought to the have the humility to lean constantly on the Lord. Jesus didn’t say, “For without Me you can’t do much.” He said, “You can do nothing.”

Paul had this holy fear for the Thessalonian believers – that, like Peter (and me), when the challenges and hard times came, they might not be ready, they might not be found “watching and praying,” and one way or another, they’d fail in the temptations. His fear was so strong that he chose to be left alone in Athens and sent his helper Timothy to find out how they were doing.

From this passage, we learn that, in this hard life, we believers of all people should not be overwhelmed by the troubles that come –we’re actually “destined” for them. We have been told beforehand we’ll have to face them. We’ve been warned there is a strong likelihood we’ll fail in them. We’ve been warned that “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” We’ve been warned to “watch and pray, lest you enter into temptation.” But the Bible also reveals to us that our God is a strong Deliverer. His name is Jesus, “for He shall save His people from their sins.” Our great and sovereign God has promised “to make all things work together for good” and never to give us “more than we can bear.” He is a “very present Help in trouble.” He is the One who said, “For I know the plans I have for you, plans to do you good and not to harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope.” Like the old hymn said, “The fire shall not harm thee, I only design thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.”

Life is hard.

For everyone.

But we are a people of hope.

Even while it’s hard.

We are “the people who know their God.”

Sunday, April 9, 2017

I Thessalonians 3:1,2 – “Selfless”


As always, here’s my fairly literal translation of these verses:

1Therefore, holding out no longer, we were happy to be left behind alone in Athens, 2and we sent Timothy, our brother and fellow servant of God in the gospel of Christ, to establish you and encourage [you] concerning your faith.

I’ve been working in the book of Daniel for a while, but want to take a break and go back to the book of I Thessalonians. It’s been fun working in the Aramaic of Daniel 2, but I need to give my Greek muscles a little workout for a while.

The context here goes back to chapter 2 and the love relationship between Paul and the Thessalonian Christians. He related back in 2:12-20 how intensely he had wanted to see the Thessalonians but Satan had hindered him.

In just these two little verses, we can observe the selflessness of this man named Paul. First notice how he says, “… when we could stand it no longer...” What is this? Is it not the parental love of a man who longs to know how his children are doing? It is not just business associates “keeping up” their contacts. It is a parent’s heart earnestly longing over their children’s lives. Anyone who is a parent knows how their heart’s sun rises and falls on their children’s well-being. When our children suffer, we die. When they’re okay, our hearts soar. And that is how it should be. But note these are not Paul’s children.  He had no wife or sons or daughters. This isn’t the natural love we feel for our biological children. This is the love of a man for other people.

Of course it is true he is a pastor. Of course it is true that he was their “father” spiritually speaking – it was his instrumentality God used to lead these people to Christ. Of course he had an “interest” in their welfare. But the Roman Empire was a big place and Paul had a whole world to reach for Christ. He easily could have just said “God bless you all” and moved on. But his was not just a vocational relationship. He actually cared. Deeply. And so deeply, it was painful for him not to know how they were doing. Someone might say, “Well, of course he feels this strongly. That’s just what pastors and missionaries do.” But is it? Do they all? Obviously no. And that is exactly my point, whether someone is a pastor or missionary or a candlestick maker, deep love for others is not “natural.” There is a sense in which love for one’s physical children is “natural,” but real love for others is a fruit of the Spirit. It comes from His heart. Those who truly draw near Christ cannot help but also grow in His love for others. To see them through His eyes is to love them. “And having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end” (John 13:1). May our hearts, like Paul’s, be found sitting at Jesus’ feet, drinking in His words and His heart, so much so that we actually love others with the same selfless love Paul had. “…when I could stand it no longer …”

Then we see his selflessness in his words, “…we thought it best to be left behind alone in Athens, and we sent Timothy …” Too many people’s lives echo with the words, “What about me?” Though they may be nice people in many ways, when it comes down to it, they simply will not happily defer to other peoples’ needs. Paul wasn’t like that. He was willing to give up his young helper out of his concern for the Thessalonian people. Giving up self is of course a Jesus-thing, “Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made Himself nothing …” (Phil 2:6,7). Interestingly, the way in which He was able to do that is revealed in many places like I Peter 2:23, “… He entrusted Himself to Him who judges justly,” and “Into Your hands I commend My spirit” (Lk 23:46).  One of the greatest benefits we enjoy as Christians is the opportunity to trust that the Lord will take care of us, and that then means we won’t need to be asking, “What about me?” We certainly shouldn’t be irresponsible with our time, our finances, our health, etc., but, by God’s grace, we can address all of those things as part of our service to God, while we’re free ourselves to give and love.

Next we see Paul’s selflessness in how he refers to Timothy as “our brother and fellow servant of God.” Paul was a great man doing a great work, yet he never lost sight of the people who helped him. He wasn’t the “big I” in his own world. He didn’t suffer from in-grown eyeballs. He knew he was doing an important work, but he also knew he couldn’t do it without the help of the people the Lord put around him. His letters are full of acknowledgements of other people. And in Timothy’s case, he isn’t just a fellow helper. He was the young fellow that “Paul would have go with him” (Acts 16:3). Timothy is the young fellow that Paul has been training. Yet he isn’t “my trainee.” He’s “my brother and fellow servant of God.” As you and I go about our lives, we need more and more to value all of the people the Lord places around us, and not be afraid to say so.

Exegetical sidenote: There is a textual variant around whether Timothy is a fellow “servant” of God or “worker” of God. Looking at the evidence, I would lean toward “servant,” but the variant itself is rather messy and in the end, in my opinion, it makes no real difference in the meaning of the verse, so I would have no strong opinion in any direction.  

Finally, back to Paul’s selflessness, note, in v2, what’s it all about? “…to strengthen and encourage you in your faith.” Note the “you” and “your.” I like that, in the Greek, this is all an “eis” phrase. Bottom line is it is clearly an expression of purpose. And what is that purpose? “You.” The people. Paul’s “purpose” was always the people themselves. As he said in v20, “Indeed, you are our glory and joy.” Once again, Paul wasn’t about the “big I.” His work all day every day wasn’t about his glorious career, or his “legacy,” or anything else “me.” As he said in Philippians 2:17, he lived “being poured out as a drink offering on the sacrifice and service of your faith.” As I observed above, this is one of the glorious freedoms of being born again – the opportunity to forget self and actually spend our energies for the good of others.

Paul and Timothy and their friends in this text, of course, are all about their full-time ministry work, but the same holds true for the rest of us as we go about our secular jobs and live in our communities. As an engineer, part of the “good” I get to do is to provide for the quality of life of the people in all my communities. Those people are free to turn their taps and get crystal clear, safe water and then flush their toilets and see it disappear, only to reappear as crystal clear water flowing into some nearby stream or lake. They’ll never know the work that went into making all of that happen, and keeping it happening. But, as a Christian, I can be completely content if no one ever knows what I did for them. I did it for them. People must have clean water to drink and use and it must be clean before it goes back in the river. Someone needs to make it all happen. And I am thankful the Lord lets me be a part of it all.

Someone may say, “Yeah, but you get paid for it. That’s really why you do it.” For me as a Christian, that isn’t true. The fact is simply that, like everyone else, I have to be paid. I live in a world that thinks I owe them a lot of money every month. It has to come from somewhere. If one community isn’t willing to pay me for my work on their behalf, then I have no choice but to go somewhere else – not because I’m doing it for the pay, but because I have to be paid. Someone has to provide for my living. As a Christian, all pay does is free me to in fact spend my time working for the good of those people. It’s still all about them. And it’s fun.

As I go about trying to do my “good,” I’m amazed how many other people there are out there doing the same thing. All we hear about is the crooks and charlatans and politicians feathering their own nests at the expense of the very people they are supposed to be helping. But I know a LOT of mayors and aldermen, a lot of project managers and foremen, a lot of operators and electricians and pipe fitters and a host of others who honestly care about the people they’re serving and want to do a good job. Perhaps for some of them, that is just their work ethic. It’s the way they were raised. But for us Christians, it is a privilege we enjoy, that we can actually entrust ourselves “to Him who judges justly” and then honestly give ourselves, our energies, and our time to doing good for others.

Jesus was “a man, ordained by God, who went about doing good …” (Acts 10:38).

Paul was like Him. We should be too.

The fruit of the Spirit is love. He makes us genuinely care for other people, makes us willing to defer to others’ needs before our own, makes us sincerely appreciate the people He places around us, and gives us the freedom to live a life of love.

And it is our blessed privilege to experience the joy of living selflessly.