Sermon Supplements – Page 28

The Deep Theological Moorings of Thankfulness (Colossians 1:3–8)

When we read Paul’s thanksgivings in the opening of his epistles, we’re oft rightly convicted, but wrongly act. We pray so little, and when we do, we express our discontent. We don’t say thank you for the food on our plate and we complain about the lack of dessert. Being reprimanded, we double down our efforts for a spell. But that only lasts until we’re given Brussels sprouts again.

Thankfulness does not flow merely from the shallows of a resolve of will. Thankfulness has deep theological moorings. If you want thankfulness to go up, your doctrine must go deep. Trying to mimic Paul’s thankfulness by just praying is like trying to build a replica of the Empire State Building, but just building up, without doing the necessary sub-structure work.

There are several deeps to Paul’s thanks, but lets just unearth a few. Paul thanks God concerning the Colossians’ faith in Christ and love toward the saints. He doesn’t thank the Colossians for their belief and love. Praise is due to God. Dig a bit and you see that total depravity (Colossians 1:21-22) is one reason Paul gives thanks. Faith and love being a sovereign gift (James 1:17; Ephesians 2:8; Acts 11:18, 2 Timothy 2:25), springing out of regeneration (1 John 4:7. 5:1), which was worked in his saints through the fruit bearing gospel (Colossians 1:6; 1 Peter 1:23–25) is another.

And on we could go, but you’ve seen enough to realize this, theology opens our eyes to reality, a reality that necessitates thanksgiving in the highest to the Highest.

Mail Call and No Letter? (Colossians 1:1–2)

Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and Timothy our brother,

To the saints and faithful brothers in Christ at Colossae:

Grace to you and peace from God our Father.

—Colossians 1:1–2 (ESV)

Paul writes this letter, but he writes as an apostle of Christ Jesus. We say Colossians is one of the Pauline Epistles, but we mustn’t say that louder than we say it is the Word of God.

Whom is the risen Christ addressing through His apostle in this letter? The saints and faithful brothers at Colossae. Ahh, of course. Apostolic letters are for saints, long dead ones. Mail call has come and you’re left without a letter. All the cool kids got a Valentine, but none for you. Figures.

Saints is a term we’re afraid of for two reasons: 1. the heretical teaching of the Roman Catholic church and 2. fear of any accusation of arrogance should we use it as the Bible does. But we are Protestants. We exclaim sola scriptura! We shouldn’t retreat from Biblical terms. We should reclaim and defend them.

It is not humility, but pride which keeps saints from our lips. Failure to use the term saint means we’re finding our identity in who we were out of Christ more than who we are in Christ. The saints are those who are set apart in Christ. If you are in Christ, you are a saint. Sainthood is not a result of personal holiness; personal holiness is a result of sainthood.

But alas, this is a letter for ancient saints, those who resided in Colossae. We’ve got the same name, but the address is different. The New King James Version has a subtle but meaningful variance in translation from the ESV quoted above. “To the saints and faithful brethren in Christ who are in Colosse (1:2a).” The NKJV unnecessarily adds “who are,” but has “in Colossae” instead of “at Colossae.” The same English preposition is used in both instances, just as it it in the Greek text. The more important locator is in Christ. If a tornado hits a city, and you are in that city and in a storm shelter, being in the storm shelter is the more important of places. What Paul writes has far less to do with Colossae than Christ. A sinner might stand in Colossae in 61 AD and this letter have nothing to do with them, but everything to do with you standing on another continent in the twenty first century because you are in Christ.

This letter was meant to be cyclical, passed along to other churches (Colossians 4:16). Paul wasn’t an apostle of certain churches, but of the Church. The Church is built on the foundation of the apostles and the prophets, Christ Jesus being the cornerstone (Ephesians 2:20). If you are in Christ, you are saints, and this letter is meant for you. Any insight you might gain into Colossae and the church there, serves then not to distance you from this letter, but to better understand what Christ wants to say to you through His apostle.

Functional Atheist (Psalm 10)

“In the pride of his face the wicked does not seek him; all his thoughts are, ‘There is no God.’ ” —Psalm 10:4

There is not in my judgement, a Psalm which describes the mind, the manners, the works, the words, the feelings, and the fate of the ungodly with so much propriety, fullness, and light as this Psalm. So that, if in any respect there has not been enough said heretofore, or if there shall be anything wanting in the Psalms that shall follow, we may here find a perfect image and representation of iniquity.” —Martin Luther

All sin is atheistic. It matters not what your creed may be, sin is functional atheism. Sin behaves as though God were not.

Sin seeks to de-god God and to deify man. As in the garden, sin disbelieves God’s threat, and trusts the promise of God-likeness.

The puritan Ralph Venning, writing at a time when plagues were dreaded, in a book originally titled The Plague of Plagues, captured this well. “In short, sin is the dare of God’s justice, the rape of his mercy, the jeer of his patience, the slight of his power, the contempt of his love, as one writer prettily expresses this ugly thing. We may go on and say, it is the upbraiding of his providence (Psalm 50), the scoff of his promise (2 Peter 3:3-4), the reproach of his wisdom (Isaiah 29:16). And as is said of the Man of Sin (i.e. who is made up of sin) it opposes and exalts itself above all that is called God (and above all that God is called), so that it as God sitteth in the temple of God, showing itself as if it were God (2 Thessalonians 2. 4).”

Sin is atheistic. Yea, it is more. It is anti-theistic, anti-God, anti-Christ. Who is anti-Christ? The whole of fallen humanity.

Well Mixed (Psalm 9)

The psalms up to the ninth are pretty easy to pigeonhole. At risk of being accused of profiling, I’ll confess it’s pretty hard not to categorize the sixth psalm as a lament. The seventh is a stereotypical imprecatory psalm, and the eighth psalm is unmistakably a hymn. So as to cover my tracks and be politically correct, let me add that none of these categories are absolute or watertight. In contrast, the ninth psalm doesn’t so neatly fall into place. It is a mixture of thanksgiving, praise, imprecation, and lament.

At the risk of further offense, we might say that this otherwise masculine psalm seems to have a feminine emotional state. Yes, all of these emotions can come together, not only in one psalm, but in one person—the poet-warrior David. Not only can these diverse moods go together, they should. The emotional hue of many worship gatherings today is a tepid pastel pink. We’re neither burning red or cooling blue. We don’t know how to lament or rejoice, so we settle for cheap laughs and peppy talks. We have more goofy than glory.

The psalms invite us to a wider emotional range. A range corresponding to reality, that is to say, to God. John Calvin wrote, “I have been wont to call this book not inappropriately, an anatomy of all parts of the soul; for there is not an emotion of which anyone can be conscious that is not here represented as in a mirror.” The psalms teach us that not only must our minds be discipled to think truth, but our hearts must be disciplined to feel accordingly. This doesn’t mean we become monotone emotionally. It means the colors become righteously vivid.

If this psalm is mixed-up, it’s mixed up in a good way, like cake batter. Bitter vanilla and sweet sugar come together to make something better together than they could’ve independently.

Stars and Sucklings (Psalm 8)

Yahweh’s name is majestic in all the earth. It is no surprise that God who set His glory above the heavens is also majestic in the earth, but it is surprising how He magnifies His name on earth. From stars David turns our attention to sucklings. The God who sustains the sun at 53 thousand degrees Fahrenheit establishes strength and stills His foes using babes.

Some have gone to pains to argue how it is that children do this. Who are these toddlers and sucklings? Not simply children, but God’s children. When Jesus responded to the priest’s indignation at the children crying out, “Hosanna to the Son of David!”, by quoting this psalm, it was not so much their age, but their act that made them “children.”

God magnified His name over the Egyptian gods by redeeming Israelite slaves. He defeated a giant using a shepherd boy. Once barren Hannah sang,

The bows of the mighty are broken,
but the feeble bind on strength.
Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,
but those who were hungry have ceased to hunger.
The barren has borne seven,
but she who has many children is forlorn (1 Samuel 2:4–5 ESV).

Hannah’s song was taken up and amplified in Mary’s,

My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.
For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for he who is mighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
And his mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;
he has brought down the mighty from their thrones
and exalted those of humble estate;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
as he spoke to our fathers,
to Abraham and to his offspring forever (Luke 1:46–56 ESV).

God’s people, His children, are the toddlers and sucklings through whom God stills His enemies, as they proclaim the most surprising twist of all, Jesus Christ, crucified, thereby defeating His foes, drawing men to Himself, and magnifying His Father. “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God (1 Corinthians 1:27–29 ESV).”

The God who created UY Scuti—a star so big that if it replaced the Sun it would swallow up Jupiter—stills His enemies using sucklings. How majestic is His name in all the earth!

Poetry and Masculinity (Psalm 7)

I’d wager that if you asked a large number of evangelicals what their favorite books of the Bible were, a significant percentage, would include the Psalms among them. And, I’d wager, that just as large a number as said so, are unfamiliar with the Psalms.

I would want to ask them, “Have you ever really read the Psalms?” Sure, they love the 23rd Psalm, and that verse on their coffee mug; they enjoy their devotional literature with excerpts from the psalms, and they “like” those picturesque memes with psalm references making their rounds on Facebook—but have they ever studied the Psalms.

It’s like a person who encounters a pet tiger, and as a result, concludes that tigers are the most wonderful of animals and that everyone should have one as a pet. How many tigers have you met? Do you really know tigers?

The reason I conclude that evangelicals are largely ignorant of the Psalms is this, evangelicalism is effeminate and emasculated. Doubt me? I dare you to walk into a Christian bookstore with open eyes or look around the average evangelical church observing the programming and try to continue deluding yourself.

This is to say nothing against femininity, for femininity not only complements, but encourages masculinity. To be effeminate is against both the masculine and the feminine—it is a marring of both. When men act like women, you’ll find women acting like men, and the result is that you have neither true masculinity nor femininity.

Oddly to some, a cure for this limp-wristedness is poetry. Not poetry like that which you see coming out of the Romantic period, so bent on emotion, but something closer to the Iliad and the Odyssey or Beowulf. David would retch to see his lyrics associated, nearly exclusively, with floral prints and pristine scenery. Not that such imagery is always inappropriate, but that it fails to capture the sweat, blood, fear, and war of the Psalter.

If you could juice the psalms you’d readily know a chief ingredient to be tears, sweat, and blood.

A clear indication of the effeminacy of the church is her refusal to face up to the reality of the psalms. When we come to the imprecatory psalms, those which speak a curse upon enemies, we’re altogether uncomfortable. We’re confused. Thus, we either ignore, them, perhaps naively brushing them off as Old Testament and irrelevant, or, we reject their inspiration altogether. One theologian, J. Sidlow Baxter, has written, “To some minds, these imprecatory passages are perhaps a more difficult obstacle than any other in the way of a settled confidence in the Divine inspiration of the Scriptures.”

A great deal of clarity can be brought to the issue with this question, “Whose side are you on?” While we herald the good news of Jesus Christ longing for the repentance of all men, we also long for the day of His return and the vanquishing of His foes. Jesus is King. Ultimately, may all who refuse to repent of their rebellion perish. The imprecatory psalms are not Old Testament. They’re so new they’ve yet to fully be.

“This is evidence of the righteous judgment of God, that you may be considered worthy of the kingdom of God, for which you are also suffering— since indeed God considers it just to repay with affliction those who afflict you, and to grant relief to you who are afflicted as well as to us, when the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven with his mighty angels in flaming fire, inflicting vengeance on those who do not know God and on those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus. They will suffer the punishment of eternal destruction, away from the presence of the Lord and from the glory of his might, when he comes on that day to be glorified in his saints, and to be marveled at among all who have believed, because our testimony to you was believed (2 Thessalonians 1:5–10 ESV).”

The Rod of God (Psalm 6)

This past June there was a small bit of heat over a blog post at The Gospel Coalition that argued that we should discipline, not punish our children. Some were quick to quote Hebrews 12:6; “For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives.” What the ESV has as “chastises” the HCSB and NIV have as “punishes.” Chastise and punish are synonyms. Yes, but what does the Greek mean? Well the NASB, KJV, and NKJV get at it pretty well with “scourgeth.”

Am I advocating for scourging? Do the Scriptures? I don’t believe so. When we try to read a sentence’s meaning out of a word, rather than a word’s out of a sentence we’ve got things backwards. I believe there is something to the distinction the author was trying to make, but the problem, the reason I believe the post created more heat than light, was because the distinction was forced into words when it lies within metaphor. Both judges and fathers punish, but they punish differently. Ultimately, judges condemn whereas fathers correct.

In the sixth psalm, David appears fearful that the lines might be blurred between judge and father. David doesn’t plead against discipline, for this would be unwise and mark him as a bastard (Hebrews 12:8). David pleads not to be disciplined in wrath.

The psalm transitions from lament to faith in verse 8 as David warns his enemies that his prayer has been heard. We’re aware of no change of circumstances or prophetic revelation that came to David to assure him of this. What made the transition? The answer isn’t in something outside his prayer, but within it. David pleas with God on the basis of covenant, repeatedly using God’s covenant name, “Yahweh,” as indicated by all caps “LORD” in our English translations. God’s “steadfast love” (v. 4) is His covenant love (cf. Exodus 34:5–7, Deuteronomy 7:9). David knows that because of God’s covenant, wrath is not His lot. Earthly fathers may mix sinful and destructive wrath and anger with their punishment, but not God. There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. But, for those who are sons in the Son, there is correction. David here how God as Father breaks to heal. The same God who shatters the nations with a rod of iron, breaks and heals his children with the rod of discipline.

Further Up and Further In (Exodus 40)

Exodus is like climbing a mountain, whereupon coming up through the mist and cloud, expecting to arrive at the summit, you discover yet another mountain remains to be climbed. How sad that many climb only through the first mist and soon give up for exhaustion or for boredom. By God’s grace one presses on through the first summit of God’s ten wonders of judgment. From there you behold intimidating Sinai, but sure of your mediator Jesus Christ, you press upward and behold greater glories. Still, God called his children to go further up with Moses, to the heavenly heights to behold the tabernacle as a revelation of heavenly truths.

On the other side, after a laborious but worthwhile climb, you come to the consummation of the construction of this tent, anticipating the greatest sight of glory yet.

The filling of the tabernacle is the climactic glory of Exodus; the supreme manifestation of God’s glory in this epic book. Israel has seen the Nile turned to blood, the Egyptian’s livestock die of plague, hail decimate her crops, darkness cover their land, and their firstborn die. She’s seen the Red Sea split and walked through it. She ate manna in the wilderness and water from the rock. She has seen Sinai covered in smoke and fire, trembling beneath the glory of God—but this surpasses all she’s seen. Here is how you know that this is the supreme manifestation of God’s glory—Moses, who spoke with God at the burning bush, Moses, through whom God’s ten wonders came, Moses, who split the river and struck the rock, Moses, who ascended Sinai and beheld God’s glory and spoke with God as a man speaks to his friend—this Moses couldn’t enter the tent for the glory of God (Exodus 40:35). One commentator says that the tabernacle thus becomes “a miniature portable Sinai [MacKay].” It may be miniature as to physical size but it is bigger in glory.

Exodus ends on this climax without consummation or resolution. It ends on a to be continued. There are heights yet to climb. Exodus is clearly part of a multi-volume work with Leviticus picking up where Exodus leaves off. Yes, even with all five volumes of the Pentateuch, Moses didn’t get to finish. The same cloud of glory that dwells in Israel’s midst will guide and protect them bringing them to the promised land, and thus into fuller enjoyment of Yahweh’s covenant with them. Moses didn’t write that chapter, because he didn’t experience it, but this isn’t to say he missed the height of heights.

God, by His Spirit is still leading his people home, and He will not forsake any of us, bringing us all to the height of heights, Mount Zion, the new Jerusalem, where all is temple, illuminated by the glory of God.

Follow the Tendons (Exodus 39)

As you study the anatomy of the Scripture, don’t be so wowed by its muscle that you fail to notice the ligaments and tendons. The connective tissue of the Bible is fascinating. Often it tells you what the muscle is there for—what it does.

Note the way this section (Exodus 39:1–32), which clearly deals with the priest’s garments, begins. There is no introduction. It seems abrupt and clumsy. In urging you to pay attention to the connective tissue of the Bible I am also asking you to pay little regard to chapter divisions. They’re helpful as addresses and pretty much detrimental otherwise. The chapter divisions often dissect the text unnaturally, separating muscle from tendon. Read from 38:21 forward, without the chapter division, and see if there is a flow. When you read about the records for the tabernacle, do you feel as though something is missing? Of all the things contributed for the tabernacle, we’re only told about the precious metals. What about the fabric?

So while Exodus 39:1–32 is different, it clearly has ties back to chapter 38. Here is why this is significant: it means that the priestly garments are part of the tabernacle. The making of them is included as part of “the records of the tabernacle (38:21).” This section ends speaking of the completion of “the work of the tabernacle (39:32).” These garments match the tabernacle curtains and the veil because they are one with it. The priest, clothed in holiness is linked to the Holy Place and the Holy of Holies as part of it. Vern Poythress writes, “The high priest himself is in fact a kind of vertical replica of the tabernacle.”

So, this is significant, because all of this is significant. All of this, altogether, inseparably, is a sign pointing to Christ. This is what the connective tissue of the Bible always tells us. Why is the muscle there? Follow the tendons. They always lead to Christ.

Where’s Your Glory? (Exodus 38)

He made the basin of bronze and its stand of bronze, from the mirrors of the ministering women who ministered in the entrance of the tent of meeting (Exodus 38:8 ESV).

Who were these women? How did they serve? This was clearly something that was perpetuated (1 Samuel 2:22), so what was it? I have no clue. It is easier to tell you what they didn’t do than what they did. We know that they were not priests, but there are endless other ministries they could’ve performed. There are roles and ministries that only men should do, notably that of elder or priest. There are also roles that only women should do, notably the high and honorable roles disparaged by our culture known as wife and mother. Also, there are many ministries that both can do. Complementarianism does not make less of women. It glories in men being men, women being women, and both being made in the image of God. In John Piper’s little book, What’s the Difference?, he lists 80 kinds of ministry open to women.

But all this is beside the point I want to make. The emphasis here is not that these women served, but that the women who served gave their polished bronze mirrors for the construction of the basin.

Imagine you’re a slave. You’ve had very little and feel worn for your hard service. You see the Egyptian women with their mirrors, concerned with their beauty. They’re silk and you’re burlap. But, because of Yahweh’s victory, Israel now has the mirrors, along with jewelry and fine fabrics. What do you expect them to do with them?

These women, specifically these women who serve at the tent, give up their mirrors. Egypt no longer cared to see herself for her glory was destroyed. Israel didn’t need to see herself for her glory was another. By giving up their mirrors and serving at the tabernacle, these women are saying they’d rather behold God’s glory than their own.

I have little doubt these were among the most beautiful women of Israel because of what they did.

Likewise, wives, be subject to your own husbands, so that even if some do not obey the word, they may be won without a word by the conduct of their wives, when they see your respectful and pure conduct. Do not let your adorning be external—the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear— but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious. For this is how the holy women who hoped in God used to adorn themselves, by submitting to their own husbands, as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord. And you are her children, if you do good and do not fear anything that is frightening (1 Peter 3:1–6 ESV).

Scriptures like there are only as hard to embrace as mirrors are hard to let go of. If you find these words hard, ask yourself, “Where’s my glory?” The example laid down for you by these women isn’t to be less beautiful, but more beautiful. Bask in Jesus’ light and you will radiate. Peter gives Sarah as an example here, a woman who was praised for her beauty.

Douglas Wilson once debated an atheist from Beverly Hills. One thing he accused the Christian faith of being was misogynistic, yet, at dinner one evening, he turned to one of Douglas’ friends and commented that he had never seen so many beautiful women as they had in their community. How is this so? Because Jesus’ beauty treatment for His bride is unsurpassed. Because Jesus commands husbands to love their wives into beauty, just as He does the church. Enthralled with His beauty, we need not be concerned for our own.