Bottom line up front: Confidence in the Unchanging God
Intro: This morning I was reading Psalm 4. It is one of the many poems David penned. Psalm 4 hinges upon the issue of confidence, of where the wise person places his confidence. Is it in himself/herself? Is it in government? Is it in fellow sinners?
Great Question: “How long will you love vain words and seek after lies?” (Psalm 4:2b) That’s just one more thing to love about Scripture. It shows us as we really are, not as we would like to think we are. What do I mean? Here David is lamenting the undiscerning sheeple who mock the godly. David is saying that even though he (as God’s man) is mocked, his confidence is in God, not in the undiscerning masses, the sheeple, those who lack discernment and wisdom.
And in verses 4-5, David writes, “Be angry, and do not sin; ponder in your own hearts on your beds, and be silent. Selah. Offer right sacrifices, and put your trust in the LORD.” In other words, look to the Lord. Why? Because God is the fount of all wisdom.
It’s why the half-brother of the Lord Jesus penned his wisdom: “But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good, fruits, impartial and sincere” (James 3:17).
Encouragement/takeaway: Where do you find in the world system that kind of fruit? We don’t. That’s because the world system largely rejects biblical wisdom, opting instead for headlines, power, and pride. But David, a forerunner of the Christ of God, knew the fount of all wisdom. He wisely put his confidence not in the fickleness of men, but in the unchanging holiness and wisdom of God. He who has ears to hear, let him hear.
Introduction: This morning, I was in Romans 8 as part of my reading. Romans 8 is one of those chapters that is often quoted. To be more precise, one verse of Romans 8 is often quoted. It is, of course, Romans 8:28: “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” That’s a line packed with solace and encouragement for believers. But verses are to be read in their proper context. Paul didn’t just plop that one line down in sacred Scripture devoid of context.
The Big Picture: The big picture of Romans 8 hinges on the work of God the Holy Spirit in the lives of Christians. That life is contrasted with the lives of unbelievers who are, by definition, devoid of the Holy Spirit. As Paul writes earlier in the same chapter, “For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God” (Rom 8:6-8).
The Holy Spirit in Context: Like countless believers throughout the history of the Christian faith, I, too, love Romans 8. But the context is crucial if we’re to have an accurate hermeneutic, an accurate understanding of what is being taught. This is so vital when it comes to our prayer lives. Have you ever struggled to pray? Asked another way, have you struggled to articulate your heart’s cry properly? Here’s why I ask: the underlying assumption in this text is that even Paul struggled in this area. Why do I say that? Let us listen to Paul’s words again from Romans 8: “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God” (Rom 8:26-27).
Encouragement/takeaway: Over the next few days, families will gather across the table, will perhaps see the people most precious to them. But there will also likely be loneliness and emptiness felt over the holidays, too. For the Christian, he has God the Holy Spirit that is interceding for him. If there’s an empty chair at the table, if there’s a family ripped apart by divorce, if there’s been a death, hospitalization, or incarceration, etc. you may struggle to articulate what’s deep within your soul. But God is with you if you’re a believer. “The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Ps 34:18). It can be so easy to say “Happy Thanksgiving,” but yet have sadness deep in your spirit, but let us remember the context of Romans 8 and what Paul was teaching: the believer is not alone and God the Holy Spirit intercedes for us to the God who came to seek and to save, even and especially when we cannot express what we so viscerally feel.
Introduction: For over a year now, I have taught line-by-line through the gospel of Matthew’s 28 chapters. This Sunday, Lord willing, we’ll complete our study. What are some big takeaways from these many days, and weeks, and months of study in Matthew? I’ve chosen to crystallize the main themes down to the following:
Jesus is the fulfillment of God’s promises
The gospel is both outward-focused/missional and inward-focused/discipleship/depth
Truth divides believers from unbelievers
God knows all things and all people through and through; there is no hiding from God
The resurrection of Jesus from the dead is the hinge of history
Those who have ears to hear will hear (grace); those who refuse to hear receive justice. No one receives injustice. It’s grace or justice, but never injustice from God
As I’m working through the last parts of Matthew 27 and the brief Matthew 28, it all comes full circle:
Jesus has fulfilled his mission in precise, specific detail.
Jesus commands Christians to go both outward via missions and inward via depth and discipleship.
Believers are known by their fruit (they remain in Christ and among Christ’s people); unbelievers depart, just as Scripture teaches (1 John 2:19-21).
Christ is shown always and everywhere to be sovereign in knowledge and power. He knew who’d betray him; he knew Peter would have a horrible night replete with three denials; Christ knew he’d rise from the dead three days after his betrayal, crucifixion, and burial. He promised it would all happen and it did–in precise detail.
Jesus has received all authority because he rose from the dead. If one rises from the dead, he’s God’s warrant.
Many, many people believe the gospel and are saved. And many refuse to believe and receive justice (Mt 7:21-23).
Encouragement/takeaway: I’m excited about teaching Sunday because it’s the greatest possible good news there is. Paul said it is the good news (εὐαγγέλιον) of “first importance” (1 Cor 15:3). That’s why believers gather together in homes and halls, schools and assemblies, congregations and gatherings across the planet, week in and week out. It’s of “first importance,” this truth of redemption.
Bottom line up front: Thankfulness Only Makes Sense If There’s a Benefactor
Introduction: Does anyone else remember these words: “God is great. God is good. Let us thank Him for our food. By His hands, we are fed. Give us, Lord, our daily bread. Amen”? Now is the season in American culture where we’re entering the week before Thanksgiving. Lots of homilies will be preached; lots of lessons will flow outward; lots of talks about “the attitude of gratitude,” etc. will abound. Those are appropriate and fitting. But in what worldview? Only if there’s a sovereign Benefactor from whom all blessings flow.
That’s what the half-brother of the Lord Jesus, meant when he penned these familiar words: “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation of shadow due to change. Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures” (James 1:17-18).
The Alternative: The alternative is that we’re just cosmic dust—soulless, pointless, and to quote a famous song of yesteryear, “dust in the wind.” If all we are is dust in the wind, Thanksgiving doesn’t make much sense, does it? If we’re just molecules in motion, gratitude is a meaningless term.
Encouragement: In the biblical worldview, however, Thanksgiving makes perfect sense. Why? Because mankind is not mere cosmic dust. In fact, all people everywhere, from conception to natural death, are created in the image of God (imago Dei). God is our Benefactor. To quote James, He “brought us forth.” In God, “we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). As the Lord Jesus taught in Matthew 10:31, “Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.” Thanksgiving makes perfect sense in the biblical worldview because the harvests we reap are due to the grace of God. The fact of seedtime and harvest is due to the grace of God. “While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease” (Genesis 8:22). Thanksgiving makes perfect sense because we’re designed to acknowledge the One who provides it all, the means by which we can demonstrate gratitude, and the message of thankfulness for God’s grace towards us in the revelation of Himself and His salvation.
Bottom line up front: “The end depends upon the beginning.” Not necessarily.
Introduction: One of my all-time favorite movies is The Emperor’s Club. Why? Well, it strikes a lot of my bells. Mr. Hundert is a classics teacher. He’s steeped in Plato, Aristotle, Cicero, Sophocles, Homer, Shakespeare, Dickens, and more. He loves teaching. He loves the best ideas of history. He loves precise language. He’s the stereotype of an old-school English/classics teacher.
And Mr. Hundert teaches his heart out–to young men, young men filled with ambition. A question pervading the film is, How will the students use and employ that ambition? Will they do it with honor? Will they turn out to be good men? Or will they turn out to be evil men? Will they grow to live lives of integrity? Will Mr. Hundert’s labors bear any fruit via the lives of his students as they go on to make a mark with their lives?
Kevin Kline is the actor who portrays Mr. Hundert. And one of the lines I remember as if etched upon my skeleton is this: “The end depends upon the beginning.”
Scripture’s Connecting Tissue: In Paul’s second letter to the saints of Corinth, he writes, “For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Cor 10:4-5).
That’s strong language, is it not? Warfare, divine power, destroying strongholds, destroying arguments, and taking thoughts captive. That’s about as militaristic as you can get linguistically.
Teaching: But here’s the great irony. In The Emperor’s Club, the issue is integrity and honor, and how our beginning shapes and/or determines our ends. Does the beginning determine our end? Thanks to God, no; not necessarily. Paul’s beginning and early life were consumed by Judaism, law observance, spiritual pride, legalism, and putting Christians to death. But God. Christ gripped him and redeemed him. And Paul was utterly changed, redeemed, ransomed, and equipped to be the Christian church’s greatest evangelist, discipler, missionary, church planter, pastor, and theologian. Saul of Tarsus became the apostle Paul. His beginning did not determine his end. His end did not depend upon his beginning. Why? Because of God’s grace towards him.
Encouragement:I think I am going to see if I can stream The Emperor’s Club tonight in order to watch it again, to be reminded that sometimes folks turn out worse than we’d hoped, sometimes better than we’d believed, and sometimes, thanks to God, they turn out as vessels of redemption. Because of the gospel, we don’t have to be determined by our beginnings. We can overcome them via the gospel. And the ends are so much greater. We see that God uses even our crooked timber to build straight lines. And we can go back and thank the Mr. Hunderts of the world for sowing seeds of wisdom even when we were unwilling or stubborn recipients.
Introduction: Sunday, I had a long drive to speak at a church in my state. The location was near where I grew up. It’s in the farm belt section of our state, where there are more rows of peanut fields than there are apartment complexes and subdivisions. After I exited from I-75 south to take secondary state highways to the town, that 1.5 hours on those country roads fired my heart’s language. In the early morning, the sunlight fell like a benediction upon the fields—some fallow, some with cotton, some with tobacco, some with sorghum, some with corn that had been harvested. Deer were abundant, as were the turkeys. Tall pine plantations lined the highways at several stretches. At other places, hardwood bottoms held that mystery and beauty that pulls my soul’s strings like few other visions. I don’t miss the gnats, but I do miss the rural sights and sounds and scents and simplicity. Down there, the hustle of Atlanta’s aggressive drivers seems a world away, and the only gunshots one hears are one’s own because you’re an outdoorsman, or because your neighbors harvested venison that afternoon.
I preached the homily at the church, enjoyed fellowship with the saints, spoke to elders and deacons and saints of shared memories of fun times in the region. It was so good to be back–to feel again that pace of country life and country ways with country people. My spiritual cup overflowed.
As I packed up my POV to make the 4-hour drive back to north GA, I had lots of windshield time to think and reminisce. The section from 2 Corinthians 9 came to my mind: “The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully” (2 Cor 9:6). Now that I’m the older guy, I look back on the soil in which I was reared. Little country churches like that played a huge part in shaping my identity, my love of rural things, rural ways. And in this season of Thanksgiving, scores of faces washed across my imagination, of men and women who sowed seeds into my life. And Paul’s words were so viscerally true. Many, many seemingly small people were hugely impactful people. How? By sowing bountifully into a shy, introverted little boy in south GA decades ago, a boy who loved the land, the country ways, and the way the sun’s rays throw golden lances over alfalfa fields.
Encouragement: We never know the impact we might have upon people—sometimes years and years from now. That is, the ripples may not be visible for sometimes great spans of time, but they’ll eventually show. May they be ripples of blessing and gratitude for the seeds precious people sowed in loving ways, but ways that came forth as benediction.
Bottom line up front: “That’s How the Light Gets In”
Introduction: One of my favorite songwriters is Leonard Cohen. He died in 2016, but his songs remain. “Hallelujah,” e.g., has been covered by countless performers. In Cohen’s song “Anthem” he has these wonderful lines:
Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack, a crack in everything That’s how the light gets in
You can add up the parts But you won’t have the sum You can strike up the march There is no drum Every heart, every heart To love will come But like a refugee
Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack, a crack in everything That’s how the light gets in
“That’s how the light gets in” is the refrain. Cohen was steeped in Scripture. I have a volume on my shelves at home of Cohen’s poetry. He had the mind of a theologian, the spirit of a poet, and an imagination set aflame by the muses.
How does the light get through? Well, it’s rooted in the fact that our world is spiritually broken. There are chinks in the armor. There’s a crack in everything, you see. Because this is a fallen world, we groan. “For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies” (Rom 8:22-23).
That’s how the light gets in, you see. Because we’re all spiritually broken, we need to be made whole. And how does that happen? Is it by bootstrap theology where we, Stuart Smalley-like, self-talk spiritual bromides in the mirror, muttering, “I’m good enough. I’m smart enough. And doggone it, people like me”? Um, no. Al Franken was hilarious as that character from SNL but that’s abysmal theology. Life’s too serious a matter for sweater vest sentimentality.
What Scripture Says: So, back to the question: How does the light get in? You remember the ending of Matthew, don’t you, when Jesus was crucified between two robbers?
And over his [Jesus’] head they put the charge against him, which read, “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.” Then two robbers were crucified with him, one on the right and one on the left. And those who passed by derided him, wagging their heads and saying, “You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross” (Mt 27:37-40).
Just when all seemed darkest, when the good appeared vanquished by Satan and the powers of hell, when darkness descended, guess what was happening? The light was breaking through, you see. How do we know? Well, the bodily resurrection occurred three days later, of course. But even before then, we have this marvelous verse 54 in Matthew 27:
When the centurion and those who were with him, keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were filled with awe and sad, “Truly this was the Son of God!” (Mt 27:54). See what was happening? A hardened soldier, a Roman military man accustomed to witnessing crucifixions, was converted. Why? The light was breaking through, you see. That’s how the light gets in—one soul at a time.
Encouragement: Cohen’s song ends this way:
Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack, a crack in everything That’s how the light gets in That’s how the light gets in That’s how the light gets in
Are you battling the darkness? That may be a good sign. Know why? Because that’s when the light gets in.
Bottom line up front: Gratitude Reveals Our Theology
This week, the U.S. Senate voted on Monday 10 November 2025 to end the shutdown. The U.S. House voted on Wednesday 12 November to do the same, and the POTUS signed the bill to end the government shutdown and fund the government through 30 January 2026. In the interim, the hope is that a deal will be forthcoming that sustains the funding of the U.S. government and its employees.
I don’t know when we federal employees will see our first check in over a month-and-a half, but I am grateful that at least some steps have been taken to get things going again. When one has skin in the game, it’s less easy to be glib or sanctimonious. Things get “real” quickly when the money tap gets turned off.
Segue: This whole shutdown thing and now the glimmer of hope that the government may reopen soon, and that we federal employees will be paid again, etc. got me thinking a great deal about gratitude vs. ingratitude. Being thankful vs. being ungrateful. Thanksgiving vs. lack of thanksgiving, if you will.
There’s a passage in Luke’s gospel where the Lord Jesus heals ten lepers after they cried out to him in petition: “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us” (Lk 17:13).
Jesus healed all ten. All ten. Let that sink in. Do we in 21st century America know what it must’ve been like to be healed of leprosy in 1st century Israel? I don’t think most of us do. Why? Well, that was so then, as the kids might say. But Jesus healed all ten.
And this is where I want to focus. Guess how many of the ten healed showed gratitude? One. “Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving him thanks” (Lk 17:15-16). One out of ten. That should break our hearts.
Encouragement: Our gratitude (or lack of it) reveals our theology, doesn’t it? One of those former leprous men went back to thank the Lord. To do what? To render thanks (Lk 17:16). In my little slice of life, there’s a glimmer of hope I’ll be paid again, along with thousands of my peers who likewise serve our nation. And I’m rendering thanks even now. Why? Because I know the God who is sovereign over this government and all governments, the One who knows the end from the beginning. And I am grateful.
This Cultural Moment: Like you, perhaps, I am watching the events in Minneapolis, New York City, and other flashpoint cities. Will the slide into tribalism continue? Scores of thinkers are labeling this era as a ‘cold civil war.’ Regardless of one’s worldview, if that diagnosis is accurate, it spells danger. Battlelines are being formed. Some folks are cheering the murder of Charlie Kirk. Some folks don’t want free speech; they actually demand silence and submission. They want to gag the whole foundational freedom of America’s cornerstone: liberty and freedom of expression.
These are, if one is honest, perilous times. Will we be a nation of free people or will we succumb to the mobs and tribalism and a cold civil war where the respectful exchange of ideas is smashed and replaced by ruthless power? I cringe when I hear the levels to which debate has sunk. It seems that the free exchange of profound ideas has been replaced by ad hominem attacks and sound bites. Where’s wisdom?
What Scripture Says: My longstanding favorite book of sacred Scripture is Ecclesiastes. Why? Well, it’s part of the Wisdom Literature in the canon. Surely most people have some familiarity with the lines below:
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to go to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace (Eccl 3:1-8).
Encouragement/takeaway: Even as I type the familiar words, I hear the song “Turn! Turn! Turn!” by The Byrds running in my mind’s ear. When we survey our day, it’s vital to know the times and what we ought to do (1 Chr 12:32), is it not? The whole idea of Ecclesiastes is that we are to fear the true and living God and live by his Word. That’s how Solomon ends the 12 chapters: “The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil” (Eccl 12:13-14).
A “time for every matter under heaven,” the refrain goes in this Solomonic wisdom. When we study the life of Solomon, he did not end well. He very often succumbed to licentiousness and license. He went, as I’ve often preached, from hero to zero. But he left us warnings about what happens when an individual or a nation abandons godliness; it suppresses truth and descends into paganism and moral melee is the result. Scripture attests that “there is nothing new under the sun” (Eccl 1:9b).
My prayer is that our nation would, against all odds, learn from history, and not go from hero to zero. But that hinges–whether folks wish to admit it or not–upon how we respond to God’s revelation. If you want to know what it looks like when a people reject God, look no farther than what’s happening in each day’s headlines.
Context: Like thousands of other federal workers, I have gone without pay for over a month. It’s been less than a joyful experience. One’s limitations become more acute. The whole situation stings. I have been through days where I battled bitterness towards politicians. After all, they’re still being paid … to do what exactly? To talk, to point fingers, to blame shift. It’s an ugly business, politics. I don’t want any part of it except to vote for those who (ostensibly) reflect my values. Sometimes that’s a pot of pretty slim pickings. What to do when you are largely powerless to turn the tide? How ought we to think and behave?
Connection: In Scripture, God is not silent. Near the end of the list of imperatives the apostle Paul pens at the end of his letter to the Ephesians, he writes that God’s people are to be “Praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end, keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints” (Eph 6:18). Persevere. In other words, press on. Don’t quit. Persist. Fight on in faith.
The half-brother of the Lord Jesus said the same thing in his way: “Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him” (Jas 1:12).
Context is crucial, always. In both cases, the issue being addressed is about perseverance, about continuing the mission, about pressing on amidst trials.
Encouragement: I will not speak for others, but as for me, I am learning at least three things through this time of government shutdown:
My finitude
God’s goodness and that goodness shown through other people
The need for perseverance
Takeaway: This morning when I checked the news online, there was a glimmer of hope the shutdown may end, at least for a few weeks. I hope so, not just for my sake but also for the thousands of others who likewise have been working for nothing. Why? Well, maybe it’s not for nothing, after all. It could be that God is doing exactly what Scripture says, namely, that “suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Rom 5:3-5). In sum, persevere.
MIND & MATTERS 