Psalm 86:8-10 – Prayer and Our God – 2

As usual, here is my fairly literal translation of these verses:

⁸[There] is none like You among [the] gods, Adonai, and none like Your doings. ⁹All [the] Gentiles which You have made will come and bow down to Your face, Adonai, and honor Your name, ¹⁰ because You [are] great and doing amazing things. You [are] God alone.

As I study these verses, it strikes me that really the Psalm consists of requests in vv. 1-5, which then pick up again in verse 14, while the section from verse 6 through 13 is basically a study in the Doctrine of God.

These words may sound threateningly dry, “a study in the Doctrine of God,” but as I noted in the last post, as Spurgeon says, “Prayer itself derives from the nature of God.” Certainly the youngest child or the most uninformed adult can cry out to God in their distress, but how much better to actually know Him. How much better, like David, to be able to frame our praying, even our cries, upon a sure knowledge of this God with Whom we have to do.

Many years ago, I noticed in the Psalms how the writers, mingled with their requests, often pause to rehearse in their minds just who God is. It was clear to me this is an excellent practice. It is essentially worship but it necessarily gives a supernatural strength to those prayers. When I come to pray, I am so often nearly overcome with the griefs and pains of life, like David when he prayed, “The enemy pursues me, he crushes me to the ground; he makes me dwell in darkness, like those long dead” (Ps. 143:3). I can simply rehearse all my sorrows to God and beg His deliverance – and walk away not encouraged at all.  But if I will stop myself and ponder on the person of this God to Whom I cry, I find my heart lifting, the despair lightening, and even a strength (and even a wee little bit of joy) arising in my trembling heart.

What David does here in this Psalm is case-in-point. In verse 1 he opened with, “Extend Your ear, LORD; answer me, because I [am] miserable (afflicted) and needy (in dire straits)”. Later in verse 14 he will say, “The arrogant are attacking me, O God; a band of ruthless men seeks my life …” How could anyone find encouragement in such a situation? That is exactly my point. David’s encouragement doesn’t come from the simple fact that he prayed, that he told God his troubles. His encouragement comes from the truths of verses 5 through 13 – the Person of God.

In verse 5, he rehearsed that the Lord is good, forgiving, and abounding in love to all who call on Him. As I wrote in the last post, each of those truths is a jewel of strength and encouragement even in the midst of our storms. But David goes on now in verses 8-10. In a sense verses 5-7 established that God is good – which is a good thing. But I think verses 8-10 establish that He is great. To truly be encouraged, one needs to be assured of both! We must be assured that our God is both great and good! What comfort would there be to know our God is good if He were not great, if He somehow lacked the power to actually deliver us? On the other hand, what a scary world it would be if our God were great but not necessarily good??? I have known times when it seemed my dying breath was to remember that “all things work together for good.” And why is that so absolutely true? Because God is good. And I can be assured it will “work together” for good because God is great. “He can work it out” we remind ourselves.

Go back and read verses 8-10 again. All over the world, the “nations” and peoples have embraced gods of all sorts of names. But there is none that even compares to our God. “There is none like You.” How unlike satan, who said, “I will be like the Most High!” But how like the archangel Michael, whose very name means “Who [is] like God?” (Mi-cha-El?). In fact, our God is so great, that although the nations worship a pantheon of their fabricated gods, the day will come when all will recognize their folly and come to worship at the throne of our great God. He alone is God.

We can pray, we can be encouraged in prayer, we can emerge from those prayers actually helped and encouraged and strengthened because of Who God is. But it requires that we, like David, pause in our tears to deliberately rehearse in our minds the greatness and goodness of our God, to ponder His love, His forgiveness, His power, His wisdom. Only in the light of Who He is, can we find the strength and the joy to face another day with hope.

One final thought is – I hope the more I know such a God as this, the more I enjoy the blessings of His love, the more it will make me like Him toward the people around me. I can come to Him assured I’ll find Him good and forgiving and abounding in love when I call to Him. I hope my children always felt free to climb in their Daddy’s lap assured they would find me good and forgiving and abounding in love toward them. I hope my wife finds me that way, and the people I work with. The world is a hard, cold place. But, as we would know this great and good God, as we would treasure the love of our Christ Who died for us and rose again, as we would come again and again to Him in our prayers and find Him embracing us, may we more and more be made in His image.

Psalm 86:5-7 – Prayer and Our God

As usual, here is my fairly literal translation of these verses:

⁵Because You, Adonai, [are] good and forgiving and abounding [in] love to all ones calling on You. ⁶Hear, LORD, my prayer and be attentive in the voice of my request for favor. ⁷In the day of my distress I will call to You, because You will answer me.

Some miscellaneous notes: In verse 5, as in verses 3 and 4, David refers to the Lord as Adonai. This is the name that actually gets translated in the OT as “Lord” as opposed to the name Yahveh (YHVH, Jehovah) which gets translated “LORD.” Adonai means literally “master.” I’ve always loved this name Adonai, Master. One old commentator once noted (since he still lived in the days of slavery) that one could see a group of servants and they were all well dressed, healthy, and cheerful, then see another group that was shabbily dressed, sickly, and bedraggled. What was the difference? Their master.  The Lord is my Master – and I’m one of those well-cared for, loved servants. “The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not lack.”

Interesting too, in verse 5, the word for forgiving is a word only used of God. That makes me think of Isa 55:7-8, “Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man his thoughts. Let him turn to the Lord, and He will have mercy on him, and to our God, for He will freely pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways, declares the Lord.” Only God forgives like He forgives. True believers long to forgive like He does but it is ever an effort of faith. God forgives because He is forgiving. Unlike us, it is His nature.

… Which leads me to probably my major thought rising from these verses, which is to marvel at Who God is. I remember noticing many years ago that prayer is a very doctrinal business, a very theological business. What I mean is, I realized that practically every doctrine we study, every point of theology all coalesces in the business of prayer. Prayer is all about Who God is. Spurgeon said, “Prayer itself derives from the nature of God.” David says, joining verses 4 and 5, “… I lift up my soul to You, because You Lord are good and forgiving and abounding in love to all who call upon You.” We could pause here and spend weeks studying the goodness of God, then the forgiveness of God, then His love, then the very fact that He allows people to call on Him. Such a study could only make us better pray-ers. Spurgeon was right, “Prayer itself derives from the nature of God.”

We can pray because of Who God is. To know Him better can only be to pray to Him more.

One commentator suggested that people must not be pray-ers who can study theology and turn it up dry and uninteresting. The very act of prayer makes theology live. Our prayers will be “good” prayers only to the extent we understand our theology, or should I say to the extent we truly know God. To know Him better can only make us to pray more.

The Psalm before us is case in point. David is coming to God in a time of distress. He himself is confident he can lift up his soul to the Lord, because He is “good and forgiving and abounding in love”. In the ancient world, many of the people’s gods were not good. Many of the ancient gods were fickle and vindictive and even sometimes sinister. But we need have no such worry. Our God is good. Every fiber of His being is good. He is all goodness. And we can go to Him in prayer with confidence because of that absolutely faithful goodness. It is sad to hear believers talk about God as if He were fickle or capricious. Such thoughts only reveal that person’s immaturity. But thankfully they can grow out of such thoughts because the God to Whom they pray is good. The more they know Him the more they themselves will find Him good. Because He is.

But, as Spurgeon also said, “It were not enough for God to be good in general, did He not also extend to sinners His forgiving mercy …” He is good and forgiving. Once again, David can go to God in his distress confidently because our God is forgiving. Perceived guilt is one of the great hindrances to prayer during times of distress. I have heard people weeping in deep distress say things like, “I don’t know if God will hear me because of …” Once again, it is a matter of knowing God. Perhaps I have unconfessed sin in my life. Perhaps I really do. But how hard is confession? I only need to own my sin and ask His forgiveness. And He is forgiving. But what if the problem is not any particular sin but simply my sinfulness? I can still go to Him confidently because He is forgiving. The entire plan of redemption and the Cross are driven by the forgiveness of God. God longs to have relationships with His creation. He is forgiving. So He Himself made a way that a fallen creation could be forgiven. Then He Himself says, “… since we have a great High Priest, Jesus, … let us, therefore, come boldly unto the throne of grace to obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb 4:14-16). Prayer is possible for us misfits because our God is forgiving!

And He abounds in love to all who call on Him. Abounds. He abounds in love to all who call on Him. I dare say we cannot ponder enough the love of God. The more one truly knows God the more and more we stand amazed at this incomprehensible love. Oh the depth and the height and the length and the breadth of the love of Christ, which passes knowledge! I love Zeph 3:17: “The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.” The more we believe this, how can it not draw us more constantly into prayer?

As Spurgeon said, “Prayer itself derives from the nature of God.” … and what a nature that is! To know Him more is only to wonder more, to love Him more, and to find more and more that He fills all of our minds all of the time.

Psalm 86:3,4 – Pondering Joy

 As usual, here is my fairly literal translation of these verses:

³Be gracious to me, Adonai, because to You I call all the day. ⁴Gladden the soul of Your servant because to You, Adonai, I lift up my soul.

Practically every word or phrase in these two verses is loaded with instruction and encouragement. But for me personally, what stands out is the reference here to joy. David says in verse 4, “Gladden the soul of Your servant.” The Hebrew word I’ve translated “gladden” is a root word that means literally “to brighten” or even “to lift up.” It can be translated “Give joy.” David is asking the Lord to give him joy in the midst of whatever he is facing.

Joy. An interesting subject. “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace …” I noticed several years ago that I could read through the list of the fruits of the Spirit and feel I definitely know the presence of each one in my Christian life … except joy. I feel I’ve learned very little of real Holy Spirit joy. I certainly know what it is to be happy, to have happy (even joyful) things in my life. I know what joy is specifically when I’m thinking about God, about His love for me, His gracious oversight of my life, etc. But I feel those are like fleeting glimpses compared to the real thing. I know that real joy is something much deeper than that. And I just haven’t felt I knew much about it.

I have compared it to the man standing in the Wal-Mart parking lot with three fingers slammed shut in his car door … which unfortunately is also locked. As he stands there in pain, one could ask, “Are you thankful for the beautiful sunshine today?” “Are you thankful you have a wife and three wonderful children?” “Are you thankful you have a job?” He could answer yes to each of those questions. “So would you describe yourself as a joyful man?”  “What do you mean joyful?” he asks, “IT HURTS!!”

That is where my enigma has entered. How can I be “joyful” when life is so full of pain? Do I have things that make me joyful? Yes. Do I find joy in the Lord? Yes. But I also have a lot of pain that never seems to let up. This world is truly a “Valley of Bacah.” So how does one have Holy Spirit joy in the middle of it all? At this point, one can throw out pat answers and clichés, but I’m talking about being real. Really. How can I actually really have some kind of on-going, underlying Holy Spirit joy even while the fingers of my life are pinched in the door?

The first time I began to glimpse the answer to my question was the first time I realized that Peter walked on the water in a storm. Peter experienced that miracle in a storm they all thought would drown them. He walked on the water in the storm as long as he kept his eyes on Jesus. But it was in the storm. While we’re in the storms – while our fingers are pinched in the door – like Peter, we have to keep our eyes on Jesus. We have to prayerfully, sincerely try to never let up seeing Him in the storm with us, see His sovereign hand over it, see His great eternal purposes in it, embrace His love even in it. Then I find there is in fact a supernatural strength, even a joy in that storm, in that pain.

 I feel like I’m barely touching this truth. My soul grasps it feebly. And yet it is there. And I believe it really is Holy Spirit joy – the fruit of the Spirit. Not just the fleeting joy of happy circumstances but a joy that lives and breathes even as I’m dying, even as the pain of life seems unbearable. I feel what I need is just more “practice,” more time deliberately spent sincerely trying to keep my focus, to keep my gaze fixed on Jesus, to be seeing Him even in the storms. I don’t like the fact that this means I need more storms to practice in (!). I don’t want any more storms. I don’t want any more pain. But then again, I do want to see Jesus in the storm. I want to walk on the water with Him. And that takes storms. I’m glad in His own trials, He prayed, “Not my will, but Thine be done.” I’m not asking for pain, but I am asking for the strength and grace to learn a joy that really is above circumstances, good or bad. “Bring joy to Your servant, Adonai, for I lift up my soul to You.”

Another thought before I stop: as I pointed out above, the Hebrew word means literally “to brighten” or even “to lift up.” That’s really what joy is. From within one’s soul, joy is a brightening, a lifting up. The opposite is of course “to darken” and “to push down.” The natural effect of pain and trouble is to darken our lives, to push us down, even to crush us. And we all have plenty of that. I think this is why it has to be Holy Spirit joy. It can’t just be happy circumstances. Those are great but they don’t help when suddenly something else darkens my world and knocks me down. Something supernatural has to happen for me to be brightened though my world goes dark, to feel “lifted up” while troubles are crushing me down. And what is that something? It is essentially faith. Faith practiced. Faith applied. Standing on the promises. Seeing Jesus, truly seeing Him, in the storm. I’m thinking it helps to know exactly what is this Holy Spirit joy, what exactly it is that I might experience – and this is what it is – a brightening or a lifting up of my heart at all times, good or seemingly bad.

And finally, knowing this, it is interesting that David asks the Lord to brighten his world, to lift him up. We want God to do that for us. But shouldn’t we do that for others? Wouldn’t it make a great goal to actually seek opportunities all through our day to deliberately “brighten” someone else’s world? We can’t give them Holy Spirit joy, but still we can sincerely try not to be a dark cloud, try to be a brightening presence – by saying things to brighten someone else’s day, to do something that “lifts” their spirit. Only God Himself can give Holy Spirit joy, but I am thinking that, while I try to let Him do that in my life, I should be constantly aware of how much it means to me, then try in my own feeble way to do the same for others. “An anxious heart weighs a man down, but a kind word cheers him up” (Prov 12:25). “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones” (Prov 17:22).

Joy is a good thing. Our worlds could all use a whole lot more of it.

Psalm 86:1,2 – Blessed Assurance

As usual, here is my fairly literal translation of these verses:

¹A Prayer of David.

Extend Your ear, LORD; answer me, because I [am] miserable (afflicted) and needy (in dire straits). ²Keep close watch over my soul because I [am] a loved one [of You]. You, my God, deliver Your servant, one trusting recklessly in You.

Lots of things cross my mind as I’ve pondered these verses.

First of all, I have to pause and ponder the unspeakable blessing of who our God is. In verse 15, David will say, “But you, Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.”    How can I be anything but eternally grateful that my God is not a stern heartless cruel king? He could be. Too many people thing He is. Too many people teach such that is what people think He is like. But the true God is “compassionate and gracious.” He said so Himself in Exodus 34:6,7, “The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, …”

David, like us, finds himself “miserable and needy.” How can I ever thank God enough, that in those times, I can call to Him, “Incline Your ear, O LORD, hear me …” in the assurance He actually cares?? Hmmmm. “Love divine, all loves excelling.” Blessed assurance!

I like the metaphor “extend your ear, LORD.” We could translate it, “Incline Your ear” but I chose “extend” because that is the basic meaning of the Hebrew word. Think about it. So often, when someone actually cares, when they actually want to hear what you’re saying, they “incline their ear” toward you. It’s probably rarely something we do consciously, but when we do it, we are in fact communicating to a person that what they are saying is important to us. So, drawing from this human inclination, David asks God to do the same thing, “Extend Your ear.” Isn’t it amazing that we could even dream the God of the Universe, while He keeps the galaxies spinning, would incline His ear to us when we call? How amazing to find such tenderness in The Infinite?

David asks God for this gracious favor because he is “miserable (afflicted) and needy (in dire straits).” I chose to offer some explanation in parenthesis because it is hard to communicate in English the Hebrew word pictures. The first word pictures someone actually being afflicted in some way with the attending sense of misery. The second speaks of someone lacking some necessity, as someone facing bills with nothing to pay them. If you pause and ponder on those pictures, you’ll realize they overlap to a large extent, though their root meanings differ. They both speak of the whole problem of human miseries, whatever their source.

We all know what it is to be miserable and needy. Again, what an inestimable blessing, that in those times we can call out to God!

It is a good thing to know I’m needy. It is a good thing to be in dire straits if they draw our hearts toward God. No one wants to suffer (definitely including me!) but it is sadly true that is often what it takes for us humans to seek our God. Then, in our misery and needs, let us in fact “come boldly before the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need!”

In verse 2, David implores the Lord to “guard” his soul. The word mean to “keep a close watch over” something, and thus to guard, keep, protect. We live our lives in a world of mortal physical and spiritual dangers. May in fact God be the guard over our souls!

He then says literally, “because I [am] a hassid.” Hassid comes from the word for love, hesed. If one consults commentaries and lexicons, this is one of those words that gets a few hundred translations, varying from “loved one” to “devoted,” to “holy,” to “godly,” and a whole host of others. I think this is just another case where there simply is no English word suitable to translate all the color and meaning of the Hebrew “hassid.” The root idea definitely seems to me to be the love relationship between two persons, which then easily morphs into “devoted” as in a marriage, which then easily morphs into “holy” or “godly” in one’s relationship with God. But still I think the root idea is that strong love relationship. David is asking God to guard his soul because of the relationship the two enjoy. Of course, the Lord would want to guard and protect him. He loves him.

Finally, I love the last line, “You, my God, deliver Your servant, one trusting recklessly in You.” English translations usually just say “trust” but I like to add the “recklessly” since that is the meaning of the Hebrew verb “batach.” It is not only “to trust” but actually to cast your soul, your life, your hope, your future on God.

Salvation itself begins when we literally hang our eternal souls on the nail of God’s promise, goodness, and love in Christ. We literally entrust to Him the difference between an eternity in Heaven or hell. But that kind of reckless trust doesn’t stop there. It is the very blood that runs in a true believer’s veins.

And, if I may bring this all full circle, we can in fact confidently and recklessly cast our hope on the God of the Bible, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, because He is a God of love, compassion, mercy, and faithfulness. It’s just who He is … praise His name!

“Nothing is more suitable to the nature of God than to succour the afflicted: and the more severely anyone is oppressed, and the more destitute he is of the resources of human aid, the more inclined is God graciously to help him.” (John Calvin)

Galatians 3:19-29 – Pondering Legalism and Faith

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

¹⁹Then what is the law? It was added on account of the deviations, until the Seed to whom it was promised should come, being arranged through angels in hand of a mediator. ²⁰But the mediator is not of one, but God is one.”

²¹Therefore, [is] the law against the promises of God? May it never be! For if a law was given [which was] able to impart life, then truly the righteousness would have been out of law. ²⁰But, on the contrary, the Scripture bound together the all under sin in order that the promise might be given to the ones believing out of faith of Jesus Christ. ²³But we were all being kept under guard [as] ones bound under law before that faith came, kept for that faith about to be revealed; ²⁴so that the law became our pedagogue into Christ that we might be justified out of faith, ²⁵but we are no longer under a pedagogue coming of that faith.

²⁶For [you] all are sons of God through that faith in Christ Jesus. ²⁷For whoever of you were baptized into Christ have clothed themselves with Christ. ²⁸There is not Jew nor Greek. There is not slave nor free. There is not male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus; ²⁹but if you [are] of Christ, then you are seed of Abraham, heirs according to promise.

Up to this point, Paul has been arguing forcefully for the superiority of faith over law, of the Abrahamic promise over the Mosaic law. One might rightfully start to wonder, then what good was the law at all? Or perhaps Paul’s opponents could make the case that he was denigrating the Mosaic Law, in spite of the fact that it came from God Himself.

So Paul wisely anticipates these questions and pauses to address them. “Then what is the law?” he asks.

If someone wants to trace the flow of logic through these verses, there are of course thousands of commentaries. Of the ones I read, I found William Hendriksen the best. He explains the truth of this passage in a very clear yet reasonably short presentation.

The short of it all is that the purpose of law was to show people their need of a Savior. It was never intended to be that Savior. It served the Jewish people in much the same way John the Baptist served them in Jesus’ day. “Are you the Christ?” they asked him. “No,” he replied, “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘Prepare ye the way of the Lord!’” To know God’s law is to see that I fall hopelessly short. My response should then not be, “I’ll try harder,” but rather, “Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there not another way?” Obviously I need a way of salvation that can somehow supersede the law I cannot keep. Enters the Savior, “Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” “You shall call His name Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins.”

The law and faith become rivals only when law itself is viewed as a means of salvation. But the law was never intended for that. When it is seen in its rightful place, that of, like John the Baptist, pointing people to Christ, then law can be seen as a very good thing.

Since this is my blog and since other far more able men have provided commentaries on these verses, I will record some of my own perhaps random thoughts.

All this discussion of law and its place raises a question I would like to ponder. It concerns the whole matter of legalism. I believe over the years I have heard men assert that the issue of legalism in Galatians concerns only the event of salvation itself. In other words, they would hold that this book and all it says is only applying to how one becomes a born-again Christian to begin with, that it has nothing to do with Christian living. Such men would typically be those of the fundamentalist camp who particularly like the whole gamut of rules for which they are known. They feel there is great value in all the rules they teach and so they can’t accept that Galatians is calling such teaching legalism and that Paul is actually arguing against it.

So is Galatians only addressing legalism in the event of salvation itself?

I would suggest the answer is no, that the problem of legalism is not only present in salvation but it continues to compete with faith all through a believer’s life. The principles being presented apply not only to salvation itself but to the totality of a believer’s existence. The passage says, “… the law was put in charge to lead us to Christ that we might be justified by faith. Now that faith has come, we are no longer under the supervision of the law … you are Abraham’s seed and heirs according the promise.”

We are “no longer under the supervision of the law.” And what does Paul say later in the book? “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law.”

The true life of faith is not a life of “keeping the rules.” It is a matter of faith. It is a relationship. It is a business of promises. Here is what I’m thinking: Every time my mind ponders what is the “right” thing to do, it should be a matter of faith. First of all, since faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God, I ought to be asking myself where in the Bible is this matter addressed. If I can’t find it in the Scriptures, then I need to admit that it isn’t a matter of “right” and “wrong” but simply some other human invention that I may or may not choose to embrace. If there is a Scriptural directive involved, then I ought to immediately realize I cannot do it myself. I need a Savior. I need my Savior, my God, my Jesus to help me choose the right and do the right. I can in fact do the right because of the promises of my God. I want to do the right because I love Him.

Do you see what has happened? We moved from the typical legalistic cold “right and wrong” to a matter of relationship and love – faith.

That is, in a sense, why we are all “one in Christ.” No one can “do” faith any better than anyone else. All who own Christ should be filling their minds not with “the rules” but with a real, living relationship of faith in Him and His promises.

I suppose it is an advantage to me that my own children are grown and gone, but I think this whole matter would be worth some deep thought as it bears on child-rearing. I wonder if it isn’t easy to simply teach children “the rules” and hope they grow up to be “nice” Christians, rather than, even in our own minds, be realizing that all “rules” should be pointing to Christ, pointing to faith and a relationship? It is of course important to understand “the rules” and to grow up able to live under rules. But Jesus is a redemptive God. And simply seeing “the rules” so easily misses seeing Him. Hmmmm. I think I’m glad my children are raised. This seems to me a very deep, but very important business.

I guess I can turn it all even from family and let it bear on how I see the whole world around me, how I see other people and the choices they are making. Do I simply see whether people are keeping “the rules” or do I see people as ones desperately needing redemption? Of course they break “the rules.” Since the Fall, we humans are broken “rule-keepers.” Like the Prodigal, we die a thousand deaths breaking “the rules.” People should keep “the rules.” The world would be a better place if people kept “the rules.” But God has something far better for them (and us). He wants to redeem them, reclaim them, restore them. And that is not a business of rule-keeping. It is a business of faith and love and a real relationship with the Redeemer.

I hope as I try to learn these things myself, as I see it’s not about “the rules,” but about myself embracing the Redeemer, I hope I can more and more see people through His eyes. I hope it can be true of me that I really have a redemptive heart.

That is what I think. I think the issue of legalism, and all that is said here in Galatians, goes far beyond the simple (though eternally important) matter of salvation itself. It is the very life of a child of God. Faith, not law, is the heart of a true believer.

This brings me to the end of chapter 3. I think it is a good place to take another break. I think I’ll go study a Psalm then come back.

“Oh to be like Thee, blessed Redeemer.”

Galatians 3:15-18 – A Day in Court

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

¹⁵Brothers, I am speaking according to man. No one annuls or adds to a covenant even though having been ratified of man. ¹⁶And the promises were spoken to Abraham and to his seed. It is not saying, “…and to your seeds” as upon many, but “…and to your seed” as upon one, who is Christ. ¹⁷But I am saying this: The law, which came into existence after four hundred and thirty years, is not invalidating a covenant confirmed beforehand by God, so as to void the promise. ¹⁸For if the inheritance [is] out of law [it is] no longer out of promise. But God had graciously granted [it] to Abraham through a promise.

Paul’s obvious point here is that God’s blessing is a grace-gift not merit-pay. He’s using normal human contract standards to prove his point, thus his “…I am speaking according to man... even though having been ratified of man.”

But his logic has always puzzled me. I’ve always found this passage very hard to follow. Once again, I just figured that one of these days I’ll get to actually study this carefully and perhaps then it will make sense to me. Well, here I am and I actually think it does make sense.

First, before I get into that, I think it’s worth noting that Paul begins with “Brethren …” He started the chapter by addressing them as “foolish Galatians.” Clearly that was intended as a appellation of fact, not an immature anger-driven denigration. Paul never loses sight of love, even for people who are clearly being foolish. Lord help us to never lose sight of love, even when we’re dealing with people’s foolish behavior.

Back to the logic of the passage. Here is my thought: The reason this passage at first seems logically elusive is because we read it in a theological mindset. Granted, Galatians is an intensely theological book. It’s like a little Romans. But the passage before us is not primarily theological. The context is secular contract law. Human contract law. In the ancient world they called it a covenant, but, in modern secular language we call them contracts. Again, Paul clearly identifies this distinction: “I am speaking according to men.” I would suggest that fact is critical to understanding this passage.

I spend an enormous amount of time immersed in contract law. As an engineer, that is one of the most important functions we provide for clients. We design a project for them, then help them put it out to bid, then help them compare the bids and select a contractor with whom they wish to enter into contract for the work. Then we provide them with a proposed contract to consider. Their attorney reviews it, the contractor’s attorney reviews it, sometimes changes are made, and when it is agreeable to both parties, they each sign it and they are thereafter legally bound to its terms. You almost couldn’t believe the legal minutiae that has to be spelled out, beginning with the dollar amount of the contract (of course), the time in which it must be completed, and working all the way down to the requirement that the contractor has to provide a porta-john at the job-site! One of the very important aspects of the contract is identifying exactly who are the parties involved. As you can imagine, if there is going to be a contract, it is of paramount importance to identify exactly who is involved in this legally binding document. More on this later.

As long as projects go well, you don’t hear too much about the contract. But the minute there is a problem, that contract becomes like God Himself. Everyone rushes back to it because it carefully and specifically defines the obligations of each party. The contract, once signed, is very, very important.

That is all contract law in the human sense. What Paul is doing is arguing from the lesser to the greater. He’s saying, “If human contracts are so clearly spelled out and binding, how much more would be a contract (or covenant, in theological terms) ratified by God Himself?

So back to the passage. “No one annuls or adds to a covenant even though having been ratified of man.”  Once a contract is signed by both parties, its conditions are binding as written. The only way it can be altered is through a “change order,” which is a formal document which again must be signed by both parties. Paul’s point is that, even in human contracts, the terms are binding.

Then he says, “And the promises were spoken to Abraham and to his seed. It is not saying, “…and to your seeds” as upon many, but “…and to your seed” as upon one, who is Christ.” Now Paul is addressing the question of exactly who were the parties to the contract. Remember, this question is of paramount importance even in a human contract. Exactly who is bound by the terms of this contract? Certainly there was God and the promises (the covenant, the contract) were made between Him and Abraham. But then there is this matter of his “seed.” Gentlemen, the court is in session. We will now hear arguments to clarify that person or persons identified as “his seed.” Paul notes it was written in the contract as “seed” not “seeds.” At first glance that appears to be a very poor argument, since “seed” is a collective singular and never is written “seeds.” But I think Paul is writing like a lawyer. The opposition shouts, “That argument holds no water! The word is a collective singular!” “Ah, yes,” says Paul, “I agree. Now let’s consider how singular.” Did it include all of Abraham’s immediate seed? Well, no. Only Isaac. What about Ishmael and the sons of Keturah? Of course not. “Ah,” says the wily lawyer, “So it doesn’t refer to all of his seed.” Well, no. “Then your honor, I submit, that we must establish just how singular the word “seed” must be before we can conclusively determine the parties bound by this contract. “Sustained,” says the judge, “Proceed, counsel.” Paul could then work his way down through Jewish history to a continuous process of singularizing the singularity of “seed.” Jacob but not Esau. Judah but none of the other 11 brothers. Jesse, then David, but none of the other millions of Israelites. At some point, it becomes obvious that the “seed” included as a party in the contract was never intended to be all of Abraham’s seed and in fact, the winnowing process was obviously headed for the Messiah. I’m an engineer, not a lawyer, but I have no doubt Paul’s argument would hold up in any court of law. What appears to be a fallacious argument (that “seed” is singular) turns out to be a rather a crafty legal device to force the court to officially and legally scrutinize the singularity of “seed” and recognize that the third party of the Abrahamic covenant was not the Jewish people but rather the Messiah himself (and thus all that are found in Him).

The theological objection is offered that, in other places, the term “seed of Abraham” is, in fact, used to refer to the Jewish people collectively. Granted. But remember that those are not passages where the legal specifics of the contract are under consideration. In modern contract law, once the terms of the contract are specified, then things get capitalized. Suddenly there is the Owner, the Contractor, the Engineer, the Work, the Contract Times, even the Contract itself. Why do we do this? Because in common parlance, every one of those words has a general meaning. It is extremely important to realize when we are and are not speaking in terms of the Contract. That’s why today the words get capitalized when they are meant to be understood as referring to the legal aspects of the contract, not to their general meaning. In the verse before us, Paul makes it clear we are talking legal contract language. The fact that some of the terms get used more generally in other passages has no bearing on their use in this passage. Once again, I personally think seeing this passage theologically is what creates the confusion. It must be understood in its legal context.

Therefore, I would maintain that Paul is on entirely legally defensible grounds to assert that “seed” refers to Christ. The “parties” specifically included and bound by the Contract are God, Abraham, and the Messiah, Christ.

Once again, speaking of contract law, Paul states, “The law, which came into existence after four hundred and thirty years, is not invalidating a covenant confirmed beforehand by God, so as to void the promise.”  Whatever the Law meant, whoever it applied to, whatever legal grounds it may have held is legally irrelevant with regard to the Abrahamic Covenant. The Abrahamic Covenant, the Contract, was ratified and continues binding. The Promise, as part of that Covenant, cannot be proffered on new terms just because someone introduces something new, even if it be Law from God Himself. The Contract has been signed.

Finally, the Contract involves a promise, not law: “For if the inheritance [is] out of law [it is] no longer out of promise. But God had graciously granted [it] to Abraham through a promise” “Promise” brings us back to faith. As I’ve noted before, faith requires a change of relationship and a change of heart. Part of the reason for that is the fact that it is all based on this thing of “promise.” That is the nature of a real relationship with God, building our lives around His promise(s). Salvation itself is to hang our very souls on a promise. “He that believes in me has everlasting life” (John 6:47). Law has nothing to do with promise. Faith has everything to do with it. God has given us “great and precious promises” whereby we “overcome the corruption that is in the world.”

Your honor, the defense rests its case.

Galatians 3:10-14 – The Far, Far Better Way of Faith

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

¹⁰Whoever is out of works of law is under a curse, for it is written, “Cursed [is] everyone who does not continue in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them,” ¹¹but [it is] evident that no one is being justified in law before God because “the just shall live out of faith.” ¹²But the law is not of faith, but rather, “The one doing these things will live in them.” ¹³Christ redeemed us out of the curse of the law, becoming a curse on our behalf, because it is written, “Cursed [is] everyone hanging on a tree,” ¹⁴in order that the blessing of Abraham might be into the Gentiles in Christ Jesus, in order that the promise of the Spirit might be received through that faith.

In these few verses the truth presented is literally the chasm between Heaven and hell.

Part of me could write for days on the truth presented here.

Another part of me wants to acknowledge the infinite importance of this Truth and then move on. As important as salvation by faith is, yet one of my first thoughts rings from Hebrews 6:1: “Therefore leaving the elementary teaching about Christ, let us press on to maturity, not laying again a foundation of repentance from dead works and of faith toward God, …” For over thirty years I have been thoroughly convinced that salvation is by faith and not works.

So like it says in Hebrews, let’s move on.

On the other hand … I do have a thought I want to record. Again, I could write pages exegeting the truth in this passage, literally word by word. Seriously. But a thousand or two good commentaries have already done that. So I will just record my thought.

I’ve always thought it odd that Hab 2:4 “The just shall live by faith” was used to support salvation by faith. It seems that meaning would render the verse something like, “The just shall derive their life from the faith that saved them.” But that is reading a lot into it. It just says, “The just shall live by faith.” The more obvious sense would be that just people conduct their lives by faith,” they literally “live by faith.” That would certainly be true of just people but wouldn’t necessarily address the event of their salvation.

Obviously the Holy Spirit, the Author, thinks it makes perfect sense and applies directly to salvation. For years I have contented myself with that thought and just figured someday I’d study it and see if I couldn’t figure it out. Well, here I am.

Having studied it (finally), read a lot of commentaries, and thought about it a lot, here’s what I think. First of all, the statement, “The just shall live by faith” is a fractal. Its truth repeats itself in a million different ways on a million different scales. It is an all-encompassing statement that defines the very existence of a born-again person. They literally “live by faith” in every possible dimension of their existence. Their salvation came about through faith and it was in fact an event. It occurred in a moment when their heart was first awakened to sincere belief. But the very fact that faith facilitated their salvation itself immediately became the very life-principle of their existence, so that day after day, throughout their days (and nights), in a million different ways, some large, some small, some realized and some not, they thereafter live a life infused and empowered by faith.

So whether you read “The just shall live by faith” as a salvation text or as a life text, the statement is still completely true.

Now, why is it so important that faith is actually the “life principle” of born-again people? This is where I think things get profound. Oh the depth and the height and the breadth and length of the love of God. Earlier in the book I noted that faith is far superior because it requires a relationship, while works does not. Here is another angle where faith is a far better way. As important as “works” might be, they, in and of themselves, do not require any change of heart. As I have alluded before, anyone can go to church, read a Bible, say prayers, give to the poor, build cathedrals, even preach sermons and go to mission fields. Anyone. Born-again or not. But our great and awesome God has no interest in heartless acts of religion. He wants our hearts.

The heart of course is the real problem to start with. “Out of it are the issues of life,” yet unregenerated it is “desperately wicked and deceitful above things.” “My son,” cries the Father, “Give me your heart.” “Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.” “This people draws near Me with their mouths, but their hearts are far from me.” When the Israelites swore their obedience, God’s response was, “O that they had such a heart in them.”

Works require no change of heart. But the very essence of faith itself is a change of heart. Abraham believed God, therefore it was counted unto him into righteousness.” He believed God. At the very core of his being, in the dark unknowable chambers of his depraved heart, Abraham heard God’s truth and believed it. In his own heart, he believed it. In that tiny yet titanic moment, Abraham’s soul experienced the very change God truly desires. He believed. His heart changed. He saw things differently. He could thereafter never be the same person. He would forever act differently because he was different. His heart was changed.

This all explains why “without faith, it is impossible to please God.” It is also why “the just shall live by faith.” To have true faith is to have a heart changed. To not have a heart changed is in the end useless, no matter how positive, or admirable, or benevolent a given act might be. It is also why the whole “faith/works” debate is really frivolous. People will acknowledge, “Yes, faith is important, but then you must add good works.” What that argument fails to see is that good works are the invariable outcome of true faith. When a person’s heart is changed, their works will change. There is no “must” to it. They will. People whose lives are not changed by their “faith” have not yet the faith they claim.

I have said for years that is one thing I love about studying the Bible, about knowing God. There are those moments when He “turns on the lights” in my heart and even in that moment, I know I shall never be the same. I cannot be the same. He has changed my heart.

Christ became a curse for us, that He might redeem us from the curse of the Law, not so we could turn into Pharisees and legalists, but so that the very promise of the Spirit may be ours, so that we might be indwelt by a life-force that would overcome our evil Adamic hearts, and that through the only means whereby we are ourselves truly changed – by faith.

Faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God. “Desire the sincere milk of the Word, that you may grow by it.” May we all feast on that Word and may God grant us the grace that we understand and believe it in our hearts. Because faith is real, then may “good works” not be a cloak to be worn but the inescapable fruit of truly godly hearts.

May we treasure the love of a Father who isn’t satisfied by external behaviors but rather desires our genuinely changed hearts.

Long my imprisoned spirit lay,
fast bound in sin and nature's night;

Thine eye diffused a quickening ray;
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;
my chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.

Galatians 3:5-9 – The Gap Between Knowing and Living

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

⁵Therefore, the One supplying the Spirit to you and working miracles among you, [does He do it] out of works of law or out of hearing of faith? ⁶Just as Abraham believed God and it was counted to him into righteousness, ⁷therefore know that those out of faith, the same are sons of Abraham. ⁸And the Scriptures, foreseeing that God is justifying the Gentiles out of faith, announced  beforehand to Abraham that all the Gentiles will be blessed in you, ⁹so that those out of faith are being blessed together with the faith of Abraham.

What Paul says here should have put the law/works debate to bed forever. He takes the very champion of the Judaizers, Abraham, and proves that 1. Salvation has always been by faith, not works, and 2. That the inclusion of the Gentiles has been part of the plan from the beginning.

Coincidentally, I have been amazed over the years with two things: 1. People’s tenacity at claiming those in the OT were saved by works, and 2. The Jews’ unbending refusal to see God’s intended blessing on the Gentiles.

Just as with Paul here, Abraham himself should have put both of these problems to bed forever.

It has long been my contention that even in the OT (and throughout it), people were saved by their faith looking forward to the promised Messiah, just as we are looking back at the One already come. From the very beginning, in the Garden of Eden, Adam & Eve heard God’s promise that “the Seed of the woman would crush the head of the serpent.” I have no doubt they believed that promise, which faith is pictured by the fact God clothed them in animal skins (implying animals were slain on their behalf) and immediately thereafter, the problem between Cain and Abel was one of blood sacrifice. To Judah the promise was given that “the scepter would not depart from Judah …until Shiloh (‘He to whom it belongs’) comes” (Gen 49:10). Clearly, in Jacob’s family, they understood the promised Messiah. Job said, “I know that Redeemer lives and that He shall stand in the latter day upon the earth … how my heart yearns within me!” (Job 19:25). He clearly understood the promise of the Messiah and found great hope in it.

I realize that the text of the OT obviously does not present salvation by faith in the promised Messiah as clearly as the NT, but one has to remember that, in the OT, there was an enormous amount of oral teaching that went on from the prophets and priests and wasn’t necessarily written down. What we have recorded for our later perusal is a tiny fraction of what they knew. But as the passages I quoted above (and a number of others) demonstrate, there was, throughout the OT, clearly a knowledge of the coming Messiah.

The Israelites as a people, of course, missed the whole point from the beginning, responding to Moses, “All that the Lord commands us we will do.” Right. From the very beginning they turned salvation into a works-righteousness, rather than seeing their own need for a Savior and putting their faith in the promised Messiah. Obviously there were individuals within the community who did embrace salvation by faith, while the group as a whole missed it. Paul observes this very thing in Romans 9:31,32: “But the people of Israel, who pursued the law as the way of righteousness, have not attained their goal. Why not? Because they pursued it not by faith but as if it were by works”.

And so it continues down to the present day. Even amongst supposedly “Christian” people, very few have ever really grasped grace. Even among those who claim to believe in salvation by faith, there is an enormous element of people still trying to earn God’s love. Apparently, as ugly as it may be, legalism is an intensely alluring alternative to true faith.

But what do we learn of Abraham who was born not long after the Flood, who lived long before the giving of the Law and the Exodus, who walked the earth as long before Christ as we now live after Him? “Abraham believed God and it was counted to him into righteousness.” And what are we to conclude from this? “Therefore know that those out of faith, the same are sons of Abraham”.  Always has been. Always will be. That ought to settle the arguments.

It is surprising that the Judaizers could not (or would not) see this. They knew that Abraham was a man of faith long before he was a man of circumcision.

Then again, my second observation comes into play. It has always amazed me how the Jewish people refused to see God’s inclusion of the Gentiles. There are numerous passages in the OT predicting this, starting with those words to Abraham, “All the world (all the Gentiles) will be blessed through you.” I personally believe Abraham knew this meant the Messiah would come through his line. I believe Isaac knew it and, if I’m right, it reveals even a darker side of Esau’s “despising his birthright.” He placed no value in being a progenitor of the promised Messiah. Then there is Isaiah. He often refers to the Gentiles: “I will make you to be a covenant for the people (the Jews) and a light for the Gentiles” (42:6). “Nations (the Gentiles) will come to your light and kings to the brightness of your dawn” (60:3), etc., etc. Luke recorded several “songs” at Jesus’ birth, that of the Mary (1:46-55), Zecharias (1:68-79), the angels (2:14), and Simeon (2:29-35) Interestingly, only Simeon mentioned the Gentiles. Go back and read the songs and notice that neither Mary nor Zecharias acknowledges any benefit to the Gentiles. Not to be critical of them, but their complete Jewish focus seems to be indicative of their national mood as a whole. Only godly old Simeon was big-hearted enough to see and be happy that the Messiah’s coming was good news for us Gentiles too.

But none of this should be news to anyone who is even remotely familiar with this man named Abraham. “He believed God and it was counted into him for righteousness.” And he himself knew that all the world, not just the Jewish people, would be blessed through him.

Guess it’s one thing to read the Bible. It’s another thing to really understand what we’re reading and let it mold our thinking. The Judaizers didn’t. They couldn’t even appropriate the truth they saw in their own biggest spiritual hero! God grant us the grace to not be like them.

God help us all.

Galatians 3:1-5 -- Thoughts

Once again, here is my fairly literal translation of these verses:

¹O unthinking Galatians, who has deluded you, to whom according to eyes Jesus Christ was distinctly set forth crucified? ²I am desiring to learn only this from you: Did you receive the Spirit out of works of law or out of hearing of faith? ³Are you thus unthinking? Having begun in [the] Spirit, are you now completed in [the] flesh?  ⁴Have you suffered so much in vain, if indeed [it was] in vain? ⁵Therefore, the One supplying the Spirit to you and working miracles among you, [does He do it] out of works of law or out of hearing of faith?

Lots of thoughts.

Notice Paul’s approach – asking questions. I submit this is a very loving and respectful way to reprove a person. He could have easily just enumerated their faults and failures and been 100% correct in everything he said. But we usually do so out of evil, unloving hearts and only put the person on the defensive. We usually are already frustrated and angry and just want to rip them to shreds. Read the five verses again and ask yourself, “Does asking questions (from a right heart) communicate respect? Does it give the person the opportunity to easily say, “You know, you’re right. I hadn’t thought of it that way!” Lord help us to guard our hearts and then to remember that questions may be a better way to open another’s heart.

Secondly, notice Paul asks who has “deluded” or “bewitched” them. Once again, the underlying worldview here is that there is Truth. In order for someone to believe something different they must either be ignorant or deluded. But there is Truth. That is why satan is a deceiver. That is why he and his minions must masquerade as “angels of light” and “ministers of righteousness” (II Cor 11:13-15). The “truth” they offer is not alternate truth. It is not truth. In order to get others to believe their “truth” those persons must be deceived. Sadly, we are easily deceived because of the evil without appeals to the evil within. We need desperately for God to help us. In His light we see light. Jesus is the Truth and the life. We desperately need God to “shine in our hearts, to the give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (II Cor 4:6). Though apparently genuine believers, the Galatians allowed themselves to be drawn into a deception – into believing something that simply was not true. We’re no better than them. God help us.

Once again, just so I note it, I am confused about the Jew/Gentile thing. Paul is clearly renouncing and rejecting the combination of Judaism with Christianity. He is clearly exposing it as a deception. Why is this true in a Gentile church but apparently not in Jerusalem? Why is it such an enormous evil in Galatia but apparently coddled in Jerusalem? Why distinguish at all between Jews and Gentiles in the church age? That still doesn’t make any sense to me. Will keep studying.

Finally, a thought on this law/grace thing. Most of the commentators are apparently happy to leave the matter of “law-keeping” as a matter of Judaism, but I would suggest we need to bring this truth into our world. What do I mean? I have no problem being tempted to add to Christ all of the circumcision and sacrificial rites and keeping of the Passover. So I guess that makes me safe. Right? NOT. We are not ignorant of satan’s devices. The law-keeping for us is something different, but it is still law-keeping.

And this is always a delicate business because we all know that walking with Christ certainly ought to change my life, ought to change the way I act, the decisions I make, etc. But when does this become a matter of “having begun in the Spirit” but now trying to be “completed by the flesh”? Certainly I want to be an active participant in the process of progressive sanctification, but, on the other hand, I don’t want to fall into the Galatians’ error and be in some way “adding” works to faith. I want my life to be in fact driven by the Spirit and not my flesh. While I want to “do” good things, how can I discern the difference here?

I think it is interesting that Paul distinguishes the two (twice, vss. 2 and 5) as being either “works of flesh” or “hearing of faith.” Here is a way I think I could try to distinguish things: If what I propose to do could be just as easily done by an unbeliever, then it is simply a work of the flesh. Unbelievers can be circumcised, can offer sacrifices, pay tithes, observe Passover, etc. I can be baptized, go to church, read the Bible, wear a coat and tie, teach Sunday School; do all those things and be a complete unbeliever. But an unbeliever cannot really pray – if by that we mean a sincere entering into a relationship of conversation with God, as opposed to simply “saying prayers.” They can’t really read the Bible, if by that we mean to open the Word, believing it really is the face and voice of God, to long to understand and embrace what we read, to see it as a love letter from my wonderful Father. And, although even unbelievers are quite capable of love, yet they cannot love from a heart that is smitten with the love of Christ, that longs to love because I myself have been so loved. In each of these examples, the difference is that faith comes first. My heart comes first. Then my “doing” is actually a fruit of that faith, a natural outflowing of what faith has already accomplished in my heart. I guess I am suggesting that legalism and “works of the flesh” are even otherwise good things which I do without faith. They are the things I do without necessarily thinking I need God’s help, the things I might do to “get Him to like me” rather than as an expression of gratefulness for grace already received.

God help me, while I want to “do” the right things, to do them as expressions of faith, always trying to make sure my heart is “in it” and that I’m not just “doing.”

Just some random thoughts as I study along.

Psalm 139:23,24 – Room in the Inn

Here is my fairly literal translation of these verses:

²³Thoroughly search me, O God, and know my heart. Examine me and know my disquieting thoughts, ²⁴and see if [there be any] troubling way in me and personally lead me in [the] way of [the] ages.

Interestingly, here is one of those Bible passages where it pays to dig in to the Hebrew word meanings. As always, it is not that they mean something different than typical English translations, but rather that they mean so much more. Hebrew in particular was a picture language. They painted pictures even as they spoke. I have often found it virtually impossible to translate Hebrew passages and express in English the depth and width and color of what they are saying. Such is profoundly the case here.

English translations of this Psalm invariably begin with “Search me, O God, and know my heart…” which is a perfectly accurate translation. But the Hebrew word for “search” “always connotes a diligent, difficult probing” (TWOT#729). In its noun form, it even borders on the impossible! So, understanding the Hebrew, David is not asking for just a superficial searching. He is saying to God, “Open every door, look under every book, literally turn my heart upside down searching its every corner.”

Then he adds “Try me …” The word “try” means “to examine” where interestingly, in the OT, God is usually the subject and He is specifically examining spiritual or religious things. Then it is “Try me and know my thoughts,” where again it is more than just thoughts. It is particularly my “disquieting thoughts.” One can almost hear Jesus saying, “They that are whole need not a physician, but them that are sick.” David is not asking God to just know his thoughts in general. He wants God to particularly know his disquieting thoughts – the ones that cause him trouble, the ones that need a physician! They that are whole need not a physician – but the rest of us and our beleaguered hearts need the Physician!

This idea carries on to verse 24 where He particularly asks the Lord to “See if there be any wicked way in me.” Once again, “wicked” way is a perfectly accurate translation, but the word means more. The word yabetz comes from a root meaning “to hurt, to trouble.” K&D describe it as “the way that leads to pain, torture, … the inward and outward consequences of sin.” It is wickedness but not just in the sense of wrong but in the sense of bringing into one’s life torment, regret, shame, sorrow, and all the pain and trouble that sin incurs. It is the same root word that is used in the name of Jabez and his prayer which is a play on his name and the word: Now Jabez (Yabetz) … prayed, “O that Thou wouldst bless me indeed … and keep me from pain (yabetz) that it might not pain (yabetz) me” (I Chron 4:10). Though so often alluring, sin and its effects always bring pain and trouble.

Like Jabez, David longed to be delivered from the self-inflicted way of trouble and pain, so here he asks the Lord instead to “lead me in the way everlasting.” Once more, the word “lead” is much more personal than simply “lead.” It pictures someone actually personally conducting another along a path. TWOT #1341 says, “[It is] far more than guidance. It is that God be before them showing the way.” It is used of the Lord leading Israel through the desert, where His presence actually went with them as the pillar of cloud by day and fire by night. David is asking for the Lord’s very present and personal guidance. The Lord’s leading is in fact so personal, He calls it “carrying” us – “Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you” (Isaiah 46:4).

Now, what to make of all this? Gracious! I think I could write a book from these two verses. I’ll try to restrain myself to a few paragraphs.

Several commentators noted how brave David is to invite the All-Seeing Eye into a heart he knew to be “desperately wicked and deceitful above all things.” On the one hand, I see what they’re saying, but on the other hand I don’t think it was a matter of bravery at all. We’re back to how we see God. If we see Him as rumbling thunder looking for sinners to blast with divine judgment, then yeah, it would be brave (probably foolish) to invite such a God in. But I like what William Arnot said, “…the eye of the compassionate Physician I shall gladly admit into this place of disease; for He comes from heaven to earth that He may heal such a sin-sick soul as mine.” As quoted above, Jesus said, “They that are whole need not a physician,” but those who truly see their heart would, like Arnot, implore the Great Physician come. As Donald Cargill said, “Those who know themselves best fear themselves most.” To me He is the gentle Shepherd, who “restoreth my soul.” I’m glad to my sin He is the infinitely powerful conquering King! Marantha! Come, Lord Jesus. “Adam’s image now efface, Stamp Thine image in its place!” I think truly knowing Him it is not bravery to invite Him in. Why wouldn’t I long to crawl into His inviting lap, burrow my face into His big chest, and hide from it all wrapped in His big strong arms?? He alone can save me. He alone can deliver me.

I think it quite clear this is where David’s heart is going in this Psalm. Earlier (v.17) he said, “And to me how precious are Your thoughts, O God. How great is the sum of them”. Now he invites Him in to “see if there be any troublesome way in me and lead me in the way everlasting.” David wants to be healed. He didn’t see God’s presence as a threat but rather as the only hope for his sin-sick heart. Am I brave to ask the doctor to remove the tumor from my side? Then neither do I think it bravery to invite in El Rapha – God the Healer, Him who comes “with healing in His wings”.

I need Him to search me, know my heart, and examine me. And to what end? To make sure my way is the right one. I have many times run across this matter of my “way.” “There is a way that seems right to a man but the end thereof is the way of death” (Prov 14:12). “Thus saith the Lord: Stand in the ways and see and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk in it, and ye shall find rest for your souls” (Jer 6:16). I need Him to help me see where in my life I am choosing the ways of trouble and to show me instead that good old way, the way everlasting, that in fact I might walk in it. Jesus asked Bartimaeus, “What would you have me do for you?” and he replied, “Lord, I would have my sight.” And so it remains. In His light we see light. I want to go the right way. But sin darkens my eyes, allures me down bypath meadow, and leaves me to die in the dungeon of despair. William Howels said, “Every sin is a devil and may say, ‘My name is Legion, for we are many.’” But there is a Savior! He said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life …” (Jn 14:6). The angel told Joseph to name the baby Jesus, “…for He shall save His people from their sins.” (Mt 1:21).

It’s probably no coincidence that tomorrow is Christmas day. Once again we’ll celebrate the birth of the One mighty to save. May we all not see Him as rumbling thunder but as the Great Physician. May we all find room in our hearts for Him who would come to search out the demons of our sins, cast them out, deliver us from ourselves and lead us in that everlasting way, that, rather than the pain of sin, we might know love and joy and peace.

Merry Christmas! Lord lead us.

Psalm 139:19-22 – The Delicate and Difficult Subject of Hate

Here is my fairly literal translation of these verses:

¹⁹O God, if [only] You would kill the guilty ones, and, men of blood, turn aside from me, ²⁰who speak to You to plots. Your enemies lift up arrogance. ²¹[Do] not I hate ones intensely hating You, LORD? And I loathe ones rising up against You. ²²[With] consummate hatred I hate them. They become enemies to me.

Well now. Hate. As I have studied the Bible and thought over it, I would suggest this is one of the most delicate and difficult subjects to ponder. I personally don’t struggle with the idea of God’s hatred, although I would still consider it a delicate matter. In Psalms 11:5,6 we learn, “His soul hates the wicked and those who love violence. On the wicked He will rain fiery coals and burning sulfur; a scorching wind will be their lot.” When in Revelation 19:5 Jesus returns as King we read, “Coming out of His mouth is a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations.” One could immediately object, “But I thought ‘God so loved the world …!” In short, I have come to the conclusion that God can both love and hate at the same time. It is part of the infinite perfection of His being. On the one hand I can say I’m certainly glad He loves. He’d better or I am hopelessly doomed. On the other hand I can say I’m glad He hates. It is only fitting for a good king to hate anything or anyone that threatens or harms His people.

For me the problem is not reconciling love and hate in the heart of God, but rather reconciling it in the heart of me! I know people throw out the cliché, “Love the sinner, hate the sin.” But I don’t think it is that simple. Read the passage again. David says, “… I loathe ones rising up against You. ²²[With] consummate hatred I hate them. They become enemies to me”. He does not say, I loathe their sins. He says, I loathe them. That is what I mean, I don’t think it’s as simple as the old cliché.

I would suggest this passage is calling us to rise to some higher level of maturity, some higher level of understanding, some more precise conformity to the image of God. He can both love and hate the person and in some way we may practice the same virtue, even though it be beyond our present comprehension.

On the other hand, here is a thought: David is the king over a theocracy. That is a very different place and situation than where we find ourselves. In a theocracy, everyone is expected to conform to righteousness, and David’s job as king is to enforce righteousness. The world outside Israel’s borders and where we find ourselves today was and is patently not a theocracy. We live in a world with essentially no standard of righteousness. We live in a Gentile world. And we are not kings and we have no charge nor authority to go around enforcing righteousness on the people around us. Perhaps we need to keep David’s context in mind as we ponder how to apply this passage in our own lives. I at least would suggest this would allow us to temper his words as we apply them to ourselves.

Here’s another thought: I have concluded that it is okay for me to hate a sinner in a sense. For instance, take a murderer or a child molester. I not only hate what they did but it is right and actually good for me to hate them, in the sense that I think they should be punished and punished to the full extent they deserve. At the same time I can love them in the sense that I know I too am a guilty sinner and grace is my (and their) only hope. It is not my place to punish them. I support my justice system as it inflicts the punishment while I can still pray for the man and his soul. I can hate them in a judicial sense but still love them as a person.

However, short of vicious crimes and cruelty, I feel I am still in the place of the old cliché, loving the sinner and hating the sin. I like what George Horne said, “We are neither to hate the men, on account of the vices they practice; nor to love the vices, for the sake of the men who practice them.”

What it all comes down to is how I think about people and how I treat them. I am not the government. I do not “bear the sword.” Apart from the appropriate exercise of authority, I don’t see how I can treat people with anything but love. It may have to be love in firmness, but it still has to be love. I can’t think of any situation where I could express the kind of sentiments David here expresses. Again, I can hate the sins, I can hate the people in the sense of their being the vessels of those sins, but as I express myself to them, I don’t see how I can ever lose my grasp of love, without losing God’s desire for me.

Hmmmm. Delicate and difficult. It still is. I’m not sure I’ve learned anything. But it is good to ponder over these things occasionally. Lord, help us get it right.

Psalm 139:17,18 – Love Divine, All Loves Excelling

 Here is my fairly literal translation of these verses:

¹⁷And to me how precious are Your thoughts, O God. How great is the sum of them.

¹⁸[If] I count them from sand, they are many. I awaken and [I am] still with You.

These verses follow upon everything said so far in verses 1 through 16. (Note that verse 17 starts with “And”). David is here worshipping the God Who sees when he sits and when he rises, Who formed his inmost being, Who wove him together in his mother’s womb, and Who wrote down all his days before one of them came to be.

David here pauses to reflect on the incomprehensible loving parental attention that God gives to His children and specifically to David himself. “My Lord,” says David, “I am amazed at how much You think about me, care about me, watch over me, plan for me.”

Anyone who is a parent, of course, has little trouble comprehending at least the essence of this truth. One’s children fill their mind continually, do they not? Even if, as limited humans, we are called away to focus our attention on other matters, yet our minds are still filled with our children. Their happiness is our happiness. Their successes are our joys. Their pain is our sorrow. Their needs and even wants are our heart’s yearnings. Ever since I knew they were conceived, my soul has been inextricably bound up in theirs.

But from whence did I gain such a noble quality? It is in no way of my own making. It is the very image of God in me. David here turns such thoughts around and realizes he is the child here. He is the object of such parental affection, attention, and commitment; and, of course, since God Himself is the parent in view, that affection, attention, and commitment sheds even the possibility of limit or short-coming. Here it goes beyond admiration and becomes worship.

Matthew Henry said, “We cannot conceive how many God’s kind counsels have been concerning us, how many good turns He has done us, and what variety of mercies we have received from Him … [and they are] constant at all times.”

Charles Spurgeon also commented on these verses, and his thoughts are so to the point, I think they’re worth quoting here, even at length:

Verse 17. How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! He is not alarmed at the fact that God knows all about him; on the contrary, he is comforted, and even feels himself to be enriched, as with a chest of precious jewels. That God should think upon him is the believer's treasure and pleasure. He cries, "How costly, how valued are Thy thoughts, how dear to me is Thy perpetual attention!" He thinks upon God's thoughts with delight; the more of them the better is he pleased. It is a joy worth worlds that the Lord should think upon us who are so poor and needy: it is a joy which fills our whole nature to think upon God; returning love for love, thought for thought, after our poor fashion. How great is the sum of them! When we remember that God thought upon us from old eternity, continues to think upon us every moment, and will think of us when time shall be no more, we may well exclaim, "How great is the sum!" Thoughts such as are natural to the Creator, the Preserver, the Redeemer, the Father, the Friend, are evermore flowing from the heart of the Lord. Thoughts of our pardon, renewal, upholding, supplying, educating, perfecting, and a thousand more kinds perpetually well up in the mind of the Most High. It should fill us with adoring wonder and reverent surprise that the infinite mind of God should turn so many thoughts towards us who are so insignificant and so unworthy! What a contrast is all this to the notion of those who deny the existence of a personal, conscious God! Imagine a world without a thinking, personal God! Conceive of a grim providence of machinery!—a fatherhood of law! Such philosophy is hard and cold. As well might a man pillow his head upon a razor edge as seek rest in such a fancy. But a God always thinking of us makes a happy world, a rich life, a heavenly hereafter.

Verse 18. If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand. This figure shows the thoughts of God to be altogether innumerable; for nothing can surpass in number the grains of sand which belt the main ocean and all the minor seas. The task of counting God's thoughts of love would be a never ending one. If we should attempt the reckoning we must necessarily fail, for the infinite falls not within the line of our feeble intellect. Even could we count the sands on the seashore, we should not then be able to number God's thoughts, for they are "more in number than the sand." This is not the hyperbole of poetry, but the solid fact of inspired statement: God thinks upon us infinitely: there is a limit to the act of creation, but not to the might of Divine love. When I awake, I am still with Thee. Thy thoughts of love are so many that my mind never gets away from them, they surround me at all hours. I go to my bed, and God is my last thought; and when I wake I find my mind still hovering about His palace gates; God is ever with me, and I am ever with Him. This is life indeed.

Yes, this is life indeed!

It is one thing to realize God loves me. I think it another thing to go on and realize that love means He thinks about me constantly, that His affection and attention never leave me. The very air I breathe is the love of my God. Again, I will say that I think no parent should have any trouble understanding such love. But it is another thing to turn it around and see that I am the child.

No wonder Paul prayed, “… that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, … to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that passes knowledge …” (Eph 3:17-19).

“For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope” (Jer 29:11).

In a cold, hurtful world, such thoughts warm a Holy Spirit joy in your heart, yes?