Introduction: I’m currently reading through the Book of Job. It is one of the masterpieces of world literature and of course sacred Scripture. The reason for Job’s prominence in the canon is straightforward: the Book of Job deals with “undeserved suffering.” Another way of phrasing it is, “If God exists, and God is good, then why suffering? Wouldn’t a ‘good’ God intervene?”
Those are great questions. And not to get too far ahead but, yes, God exists. And suffering exists. Yet God has intervened, continues to intervene, and is sovereign in and through suffering. Christianity alone deals with suffering in a way that no other worldview does—namely, by explaining why suffering exists and what God has done as the suffering servant to redeem and restore a people to himself through the gospel.
But in the first installment I wish only to focus on one particular topic, and that is God’s initiationof Job’s education. When the Book of Job opens, verses 8-12 of chapter 1 are crucial to understand:
8 And the Lord said to Satan, “Have you considered my servant Job, that there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil?”9 Then Satan answered the Lord and said, “Does Job fear God for no reason? 10 Have you not put a hedge around him and his house and all that he has, on every side? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his possessions have increased in the land. 11 But stretch out your hand and touch all that he has, and he will curse you to your face.” 12 And the Lord said to Satan, “Behold, all that he has is in your hand. Only against him do not stretch out your hand.” So Satan went out from the presence of the Lord. (Job 1:8-12)
Teaching: If you don’t pay attention, you might think that Satan is running the show in the Book of Job. But it was God who summoned Satan, a created angel, to the court of heaven. It wasn’t Satan who initiated all of that was going to unfold. That’s so important. Why? Because God is the one who’s in control. God is the sovereign. Satan is a contingent, created, fallen being. God is not contingent, is uncreated, and holy. Again, pay attention to the text: “Have you considered my servant Job . . .?” was a question from God to Satan about Job. God was the initiator in all this. And God, if you’ll stick with me through Job, you will see is there at the end.
Encouragement: For now, however, just remember this: Satan’s not sovereign; God is. God is the hero of the Book of Job. Those who follow hellish counsel will be humiliated by the end of this history, and Job, the righteous sufferer, will be rewarded. But we’ll get there.
Intro: When I wrote my PhD dissertation, it was based largely on the Book of Esther. This historical account served as the biblical anthropology I explored in the fiction of American writer Cormac McCarthy. The reason I have been drawn to the Book of Esther so often is because in it we discover the utter darkness and folly of sin and the ultimate triumph of truth and justice. In the novels and plays of McCarthy, you also discover the utter darkness and folly of sin and the possibility of truth and justice, but McCarthy is no Pollyanna. McCarthy’s writings explore the sundry levels of moral depravity but I argued that in each of his writings, there is the possibility of moral goodness and redemption in at least some of his characters.
Connection: What does that have to do with the indestructible truth and the Book of Esther? A great deal. Follow me: Haman is one of the most wicked men in all of the Bible. He plotted to have Mordecai, Esther, and all of the Jews annihilated (Esther 7:4). Haman plotted to have himself honored by King Ahasuerus (Esther 6:6). Haman hated Mordecai’s honor and integrity and especially the fact that Mordecai saw right through Haman. Mordecai was a master of pattern recognition (Esther 4:12-14).
Haman plotted to have himself be like the most high. He loved nothing and no one nearly as much as he loved himself. He was the consummate narcissist. He didn’t love the people; he didn’t love the king; he loved himself–fatally. And he eventually got what was coming to him. But in the interim, he wrought massive destruction. That’s the way it goes with Hamans. Because they make themselves the center of everything, other people are only useful insofar as they served his purposes of self-promotion. Do you really think that people have changed? Of course not. Human nature is a constant.
Encouragement: The Book of Esther is a master story because of its use of irony. What we expect to happen, doesn’t. We expect Haman’s evil will prevail. He is sneaky, crafty, and cunning–just like Satan, the one who disguises himself as an angel of light. But God was with Mordecai and Esther. More accurately stated, Mordecai and Esther were with God, and that made all the difference. Haman was eventually hanged on the gallows he had constructed for hanging Mordecai. But God was in it all, you see, and Mordecai and Esther, and all those they represented, were saved. Sounds a lot like the gospel, doesn’t it? That’s because it is. Evil is real, very real. There’s no paucity of Hamans in the world. But God is greater than Satan, you see. And God is truth. And the truth is indestructible.
Text:12 And they told Mordecai what Esther had said.13 Then Mordecai told them to reply to Esther, “Do not think to yourself that in the king’s palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews. 14 For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish. And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:12-14)
Context, Context, Context: Always keep the big picture in mind. The big picture is that God’s people are strangers and exiles in the world system. We’re to be salt and light in a world of rot and darkness. In the Book of Esther, set in Persia in the 470s B.C., Mordecai and Esther embodied and personified God’s people under Ahasuerus the Persian king. (Ancient Persia was a world power then. And here we are in our day once again dealing with the same region, but that’s another topic.) At any rate, Mordecai and Esther were Jews. And a holocaust had been decreed against them by wicked Haman and Ahasuerus (Esther 3:11).
Teaching: Mordecai was God’s man. He maintained short accounts with God. He prayed fervently. He interceded on behalf of his people against the wicked schemes of Haman, a yes man and utterly self-absorbed opportunist. Mordecai spoke to his adopted niece the words you read above in verses 13-14. “For such a time as this” has become one of the most cited verses in all of Scripture. Why? Because the wise person understands the times and what God’s people are to do. And what was Esther to do? Have courage. Be humble but act with courage. Trust the Lord and act with courage.
Encouragement: Courage is not the same thing as bravado. We all know people who inculcate bravado. Wicked Haman was such a person. And Haman is truly one of the most despicable people in history. He was self-absorbed, a flagrant self-promoter, shameless, and a liar. But God was going to use the courage of Mordecai and Esther, exiles and sojourners, to overturn an empire. Haman would get what was coming to him. But before that, it took one crucial element: the courage of God’s people. Nothing has changed, dear ones. Nothing has changed.
My black Hoka slippers pointed toe-first under the bed frame. Just to get out of the bed was a feat. Though inches away from my feet as I worked the morning’s covers off me, it took minutes to retrieve my right leg out from under the covers and lay it down over my side of the bed and eventually fit both feet in the slippers and try to stand. In the back of my mind I was seeing snippets of “The Oldest Man” clock repair skits with Tim Conway and Harvey Corman from The Carol Burnett Show I laughed at so many evenings as a boy, where Conway would shuffle across his office floor at the speed of congealed mud. But I wasn’t laughing now, as much I may’ve wanted.
Eventually I got both legs over the edge of the bed and into my slippers. My prayer was that, upon standing, I’d not collapse onto the bedroom carpet. My right ankle was staggeringly sore and weak. This latest injury summoned levels of pain I have not experienced heretofore. Kidney stones didn’t compare. Right shoulder, rotator cuff, and torn bicep surgery didn’t even compare. And the Army doctors had put me on Oxycodone after that ordeal. But this pain was worse. Incomparably worse.
Yesterday, my wife drove me to Atlanta to a spinal clinic for an injection. The doctor wanted to send me for an MRI, too, but it was going to be days before I could even get in for that, he said. No dice. I could not wait days. We went back to my physical therapist. She dry-needled my glutes, sacrum, and right leg. She manipulated my leg muscles, my glutes, my back, and my core muscles. When I arrived at her office, I shuffled like “The Oldest Man” Tim Conway character. After the first visit, I could walk without crying. I know pain tolerance is individual, and I know some tough guys and gals, but this nerve pain was like nothing I could have imagined. It felt like electric volts were flashing through my back, right leg, ankle, and foot. My wife watched tears roll down my cheek as I curled into the fetal position on my left side in efforts to find relief. When at the spinal doctor’s office earlier, I’d had to collapse onto the floor on all fours like a baby. Meanwhile, the doc sat on a rolling stool and asked me how my pain level was on a scale from one to ten. I said, “Eleven.” But he didn’t laugh. I’m done with that guy. He may be good with spines but he’s awful with people.
Since slipping on my sandals this morning, I’ve been able to do little but shuffle like the Tim Conway character and let Ladybug, our Cavalier King Charles spaniel, sleep on my chest. She seems to sense I’m hurting, and she’s been my constant companion. I could not go to Sunday school or church today, and Sunday is my favorite day of the week. It’s when we get to gather with the saints and sing and pray and fellowship and sit under the preaching of the Word. My associate pastor at Christ Covenant Church (3cs-canton.org) preached through more of the pastoral epistles and even served the Lord’s Supper today to our people. Many from the church reached out via texts and emails to minister to me. For all of that concern I am grateful.
Since I was unable to gather with the body, I read Scripture this morning outside in the early morning sun. I read the Book of Nehemiah and saw once again how God was faithful to his covenant promises and how Nehemiah and others rebuilt the wall. There was opposition, of course, but that is the way ministry goes–then, now, and always.
I sat outside and watched the birds fly to my birdfeeder, peck at seeds, dive for sunflower seeds, then flutter off to nearby limbs to eat and watch me as I watched them. Our neighbors saw me shuffling like a geriatric outside and asked if they could do anything for me. No, I said. Just pray my physical therapy works. We exchanged small talk for a bit and I afterwards shuffled back to my chair to read some more and watch the birds and miss my wife and church family.
What’s the point? Is it to wallow in self-pity? No. It’s that I’m learning how fragile life can be. Bones give way; ankles roll; knees lock; discs move–sometimes the wrong ways. And just like that, everything can change. You find yourself helpless. People ask to help but there really is not much most of them can do but tell you that they’ve been there, too, so to speak. Everyone has a story. I guess this one’s mine.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to go to work tomorrow. I’ve already missed two days due to this injury. And my wife is the first to tell you that I need to work. I don’t do well when I’m not working. I love what I do, and if I have to sit on a couch or lie in bed, I make everyone around me as miserable as I am. Admittedly, I’m a horrible patient. I need to be doing. But here I am, trying to read, to write, watching the birds, listening to Ladybug snore on my chest.
Let me end with some encouragement, though. For the physical therapist, Kari, you’ve blessed me already. I’d never been dry-needled before but you’ve made a believer out of me. I’ll see you tomorrow evening for my next round of therapy. Joe, my chiropractor, I cannot thank you enough for your work on my back and knees. And most of all to Carrie Jane, you’ve watched me crawl on all fours like a bear because I could not stand; you’ve watched me curse my condition and beg God to remove this pain, and I’ve been a horrible grouch, but you’ve stuck with me. And to my church family, thank you–for praying, texting, emailing, etc. and for pressing on with glorifying God through all circumstances.
Question: Have you ever thought through what Scripture means by the patience/longsuffering of God on behalf of sinners?
Text: “. . . because they formerly did not obey, when God’s patience waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was being prepared, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were brought safely through water” (1 Peter 3:20).
Context, Context, Context: Peter, the apostle of hope, was writing in the A.D. 60s, a mere 30 years after the life, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus, to Christians dispersed over what is much of modern-day with one overarching theme: endure suffering as a Christian for the sake of the truth.
Teaching: Peter is teaching in this verse about how the gospel was heralded via Christ proclaiming the good news (the gospel) in Noah’s day. How? Through his servant Noah. Through Noah’s witness. Through Noah’s life. The ark was a picture of Christ. All eight who were in the ark were in Christ. The rest of the creation were left to God’s justice manifested via the flood that drowned those who did not repent and believe. Eight persons were saved; the rest were dealt with justly. Eight received grace; the others received justice. No one received injustice.
The phrase “while the ark was being prepared” (v. 20) demarcates the period of time in which people had opportunities to believe the gospel but refused.
Encouragement: God is patient with us sinners. He is longsuffering. He sends heralds of righteousness and truth-tellers like Noah. How do we respond? How do most respond to Christ? And yet, we are to go with this message that Christ is patient, longsuffering, and came to save all who repent and believe. Why would anyone refuse this offer from God?
Bottom line up front: The Link Between Substitution and Gratitude
Text: “For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh but made alive in the spirit” (1 Pt 3:18).
Context, Context, Context: Peter, the apostle of hope, was writing in the A.D. 60s, a mere 30 years after the life, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus, to Christians dispersed over what is much of modern-day with one overarching theme: endure suffering as a Christian for the sake of the truth.
Teaching/encouragement: Peter keeps the focus on Christ in verse 18 above. Why? To show suffering Christians their supreme model is Christ. Christ suffered, too, but immeasurably more than we do. He (the righteous) suffered for us (the unrighteous). How? Via the cross. Public scoffing, stripping of his garments, slander, mockery, beating, and ultimately crucifixion. He, the righteous, suffered for us, the unrighteous. Jesus’ mission? To bring us unrighteous ones to God, but in a saving way rather than in the way of condemnation. In short, for all who are saved, it’s because of the suffering servant, the Christ of God, our substitute. We are not the heroes; Christ is. Our duty is now to endure, and to do it in a way that demonstrates our gratitude for the one who was and is our substitute.
Text: “For Ezra had set his heart to study the Law of the LORD, and to do it and to teach his statutes and rules in Israel” (Ezra 7:10).
Question: How many of us have begun a training regimen but later abandoned it? Perhaps we took up a different regimen. Perhaps we relapsed into habitual patterns. There’s no paucity of justifications we might proffer for not seeing our training through—not enough time; life events; too busy; too difficult, etc. The list could go on.
Context, Context, Context: The book of Ezra hinges on Cyrus’ degree that the elect exiled Jews be able to not only return to their nation but also that the temple be rebuilt in Jerusalem. God was keeping his covenant promise (Ezra 9:13). The years were the 450s-430s B.C. This was the period of time of these exiles that Nebuchadnezzar had captured to taken to Babylon (modern-day Iraq).
Teaching: Ezra was a priest. He took his vocation seriously. It wasn’t “a job.” It was a calling. He loved the Lord and the Lord’s people. So, what sort of divine training regimen did Ezra inculcate? It’s right there in verse 10: “For Ezra had set his heart to study the Law of the LORD, and to do it and to teach his statutes and rules in Israel.” It was trinitarian:
A heart to study
Obedience to do, not just say
A teaching ministry
Encouragement: First, he was a student of the Lord. Second, he practiced what he preached. Third, he taught and shepherded others to do likewise. Why would anyone take issue with such a divine training regimen. Press on, soldier. Do things the right way, with the right motive, and teach all who will learn.
31 Do not envy a man of violence and do not choose any of his ways, 32 for the devious person is an abomination to the Lord, but the upright are in his confidence. 33 The Lord’s curse is on the house of the wicked, but he blesses the dwelling of the righteous. (Pr 3:31-33)
When Solomon is instructing his son in this section of Proverbs, Solomon delivers some negatives. That is, he tells his beloved son what not to do. In v. 31 he tells him not to envy a man of violence. Solomon’s father, David, wrote similar wisdom: “Fret not yourself because of evildoers; be not envious of wrongdoers!” (Ps 37:1).
It’s interesting when you step back and look at how the minds of father and son, David and Solomon, ran parallel at times. Both were brilliant men; both were kings; both were wealthy; both were massively faithful at times and egregiously sinful at other times. Both were writers who penned much of the wisdom literature of the Bible. And both wrote much about how to be godly amidst a wicked environment, about how to remain unsullied in a environment of hazardous materials and/or personnel.
A recurring theme in the writings of both men is this emphasis upon keeping one’s distance from devious, jealous, envious people. Solomon calls them in Pr 3:32 “an abomination to the LORD.” That’s strong language. They’re pictured as those whose paths are crooked (Pr 2:15).
Solomon stresses to his son in Proverbs to seek the Lord’s blessing, not to curry favor with the devious. Why? Well Pr 3:33 is straightforward: “The LORD’S curse is on the house of the wicked, but he blesses the dwelling of the righteous.”
When I was a boy, I was fortunate to be surrounded by builders. My stepfather amazed me in the ways he intuitively understood how anything was put together. He seemed to just “get it” when it came to construction, electrical work, masonry, etc. His father was the same way. He understood engines, masonry, roofing, wiring, et al. I was amazed. I have an affection for all of the above but I don’t have the aptitude. That’s simply not where my strengths lie.
This morning I was completing my reading through 2 Chronicles and then later found myself in Proverbs 1:7: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction.” And there was the same principle: the beginning. The foundation.
“The end depends upon the beginning,” is a common aphorism from the classics. It’s sage counsel. There are exceptions, of course. We all know of people who had rocky starts but then surprised us all by the way they turned out. I remember when I was still teaching full-time and had some students that I had serious doubts about, but somehow they pulled through, and I’m thrilled they did.
But in theological terms, Solomon’s aphorism is spot-on: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction” (Pr 1:7). If the foundation is unsound or faulty or cracked or weak, all that’s built upon it is compromised. This is why first things matter so much–our presuppositions.
Sometimes when I look at the culture, I sense that it is unraveling. Things seem to be upside-down. Somehow things that seemed to have been obvious are suddenly not obvious. And it results in things like moral crassness and loss of civility. Whatever happened to “Please” and “Thank you”? People might scoff at such things now. How antiquated, they might say. Well, yes! But what’s wrong with antiquated? Civility is better than what we have now.
But that’s exactly what Solomon was laboring to get us to understand. It’s the moral fool who scoffs at righteousness. The fool is a scoffer; he’s a mocker. He’s the smart aleck, if you will. He mocks the holy. But he’s living a life built upon a faulty foundation. How and where one begins is of crucial significance. I’m with Solomon.
When I reflect on the many times I had to dig footers and mix the concrete, I didn’t realize at the time that the same logic applied in the moral and theological world. But I look back now and am grateful.
MIND & MATTERS 