What do you think of, when you contemplate humility? If you’re like me, you probably don’t ponder it enough to even ask that question… but we certainly should be thinking about it as Christians. Humility is something spoken of throughout Holy Scripture, and a theme taken up by the prophets (cf. Micah 6, among others.) St. Paul would draw us into such a consideration, by pointing us to Christ—His incarnation, passion, and resurrection. What do we learn from meditating on the image of Christ’s humility?
For starters, we learn the absurdity of our own pride. I don’t care how many degrees you’ve earned, or positions you’ve held, or money you’ve made, or trophies you’ve mounted on your wall—your pride isn’t worth squat. You can rack up all the awards and honors and trinkets that your “I-love-me” wall will hold, but at the end of the day, you’re just another damned sinner waiting for your day to die. You didn’t decide when to enter the world, and chances are you won’t decide when to leave it. Truth be told, you’re not even in control of much of what happens between those two pivotal events, as the wisp of your life’s few short years dissipate in the breeze of eternity, to be forgotten entirely by your own progeny within a couple generations. When we step back and look at ourselves for who and what we really are, pride should be the farthest thing from our minds.
But Jesus, on the other hand, has everything to be proud of. He is the eternally begotten Son of the Father, uncreated and never-ending. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. He is the Light of the World, which no darkness can overcome. He is the Wisdom and Word of God, through whom all things were made. He is perfect, and in perfect harmony and unity with the Father and the Spirit—the Second Person of the Most Holy Trinity. If there was ever anyone who had reason to be prideful, it is Jesus.
And beyond His eternal attributes of deity, out of love and compassion for us, He took upon Himself our created flesh, deigning to be born of the lowly Virgin, receiving from her his humanity. He condescended to live amongst us in our fallen world, made subject to the authority of human parents whom He created and sustained. And for the sake of the whole of humanity, from the dawn of time to the end of time, He submitted Himself to torture and death, that through His wounds we might be healed. He descended to the dead, and after three days in the tomb, rose, never to die again.
For all His unfathomable greatness, Jesus demonstrated humility and submission, for the good of His creation. And we, who by grace through faith in Him alone, inherit the wonders of His magnificent merit, live grafted into Him—His life becoming our life, conquering our sin, death, and the devil. We live because He lives, and gives His life for us. We no longer stand on our own blighted and deformed merits, but upon the solid rock of His eternal grace. We, who could not stand on our own, are made to stand, in and through Him.
So, when St. Paul calls us to have the mind of Christ, he not asking of us anything unreasonable. He is calling us to look to Christ our Savior, and see how He has come to serve rather than be served, and to give His life as a ransom for many. He calls us to surrender our false pride, and trade it for the humility of the Son of God, who has promised that none who believe in Him shall ever be put to shame. We, who have been given life in our Savior, are to be reflections of our Savior, even as He works out His will in and through us. This is humility—not that we work out our humbleness so that we might brag of it later—but that Christ’s humility be worked out in His people, through His own power moved through us, such that He is lifted up for all the world to see.
And He has said, as He is lifted up, He will draw all men to Himself. Amen—so may it be.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Friday, March 23, 2012
The Word is Everything: Psalm 119:9-16
How can a young man cleanse his way?
By taking heed according to Your word.
With my whole heart I have sought You;
Oh, let me not wander from Your commandments!
Your word I have hidden in my heart,
That I might not sin against You.
Blessed are You, O LORD!
Teach me Your statutes.
With my lips I have declared
All the judgments of Your mouth.
I have rejoiced in the way of Your testimonies,
As much as in all riches.
I will meditate on Your precepts,
And contemplate Your ways.
I will delight myself in Your statutes;
I will not forget Your word.
Of all the things we have a hard time believing in our modern era, the Word of God seems to be at the center of our angst. As a society, having inherited the principles of the Enlightenment, summed up well in the famous state motto of “Show me,” we’re not well inclined to believe much of anything. In order to win my trust, you have the obligation to “show” what it is you are saying to “me” in such a way, that you win my approval and acceptance. I am the measure of all things, including whatever words fall out of your mouth, or off the printed page. I am the judge, and I am the measure. Whatever word may exist out there, it has the obligation of convincing me of its validity, and why my sovereign brain should give it any thought at all. I am king, after all—at least inside my own head.
As much as that individual practice of judging all things and ideas may be helpful between purely human conversations, where each of the human actors is equally flawed and prone to error, it is a horrible way to approach the Word of God. God is not obliged to convince us of anything—frankly, He’s not even obliged to speak to us in the first place. While we’re busy convincing ourselves of our own magisterial merit, God sits enthroned over the whole of creation, with none to challenge Him. He is the beginning of all things, and He will be the end of all things. Eternally before all things came to be, and eternally after all things cease to be, He is. We might like think of ourselves as the measure of all things, but in reality, we’re the measure of just about nothing… we can’t even measure ourselves without a reference point. (As a sidebar, try measuring yourself sometime, without any external reference point; no other people, no watch, no scale, no measuring tape, no GPA, no GPS, no history; when you’ve finished the exercise of your own inherent incompetence, keep reading…)
At the end of the day, without the objective Word of God, given by the One who stands eternally as the objective standard by which all things are measured, judged, and even rationally comprehended, we’re lost. We need His Word to tell us up from down, left from right, good from evil. His Word is written in the very fabric of the universe He created, so that we can understand cause and effect, time and energy and mass, and even life and death. His Word pierces our darkness and confusion with the blinding light of His eternal Law, so that we might know the difference between His majesty and holiness, versus our own wretchedness and evil. His Word that brought all things to be, sustains them through His good and gracious will, and provides us the light we need to enlighten our reason, orienting ourselves in all things. The further we get from His Word, the more confused, irrational, and incoherent we become.
Most importantly, though, we need His Word which was made flesh and dwelt among us—a Word beheld by the Apostles full of grace and truth, as the Only Son of the Father. This Word we need most of all, because after the Word of His Law reveals the hopelessness of our fallen human condition, this Word Made Flesh reveals to us to resolution of our troubles. The very Word of God, Jesus Christ, who took on our flesh, our sin, our death, reveals to us not only the extent of sin’s curse, but the unfathomable richness of God’s love for each and every human being. The love of God is made known to us, in His Word Made Flesh, the very image of the invisible God. It is the Word of God which was nailed to the tree, suffered death at the hands of the sinful creatures He came to save, and rose victoriously from the grave. It is the Word of God which speaks to us, that life and forgiveness is found in Him alone—for no one comes to the Father but through the Son, by the working of the Holy Spirit.
When we come to the end of ourselves, we find that it really is all about the Word. The Word does not come to us to justify itself, but to give us Justification, where we have only death and hopelessness on our own. The Word need not present itself before us, yet it comes to every person, that we might know the love of God for us all. The King of the Universe has spoken in words of Law and Gospel, that we might hear, repent, believe, and live. The Word—His Word—is everything to us. May Jesus Christ, the Word of God made flesh, ever be at the center of our meditations and contemplations, burning and hidden in our hearts, that we may never wonder from Him. Amen.
By taking heed according to Your word.
With my whole heart I have sought You;
Oh, let me not wander from Your commandments!
Your word I have hidden in my heart,
That I might not sin against You.
Blessed are You, O LORD!
Teach me Your statutes.
With my lips I have declared
All the judgments of Your mouth.
I have rejoiced in the way of Your testimonies,
As much as in all riches.
I will meditate on Your precepts,
And contemplate Your ways.
I will delight myself in Your statutes;
I will not forget Your word.
Of all the things we have a hard time believing in our modern era, the Word of God seems to be at the center of our angst. As a society, having inherited the principles of the Enlightenment, summed up well in the famous state motto of “Show me,” we’re not well inclined to believe much of anything. In order to win my trust, you have the obligation to “show” what it is you are saying to “me” in such a way, that you win my approval and acceptance. I am the measure of all things, including whatever words fall out of your mouth, or off the printed page. I am the judge, and I am the measure. Whatever word may exist out there, it has the obligation of convincing me of its validity, and why my sovereign brain should give it any thought at all. I am king, after all—at least inside my own head.
As much as that individual practice of judging all things and ideas may be helpful between purely human conversations, where each of the human actors is equally flawed and prone to error, it is a horrible way to approach the Word of God. God is not obliged to convince us of anything—frankly, He’s not even obliged to speak to us in the first place. While we’re busy convincing ourselves of our own magisterial merit, God sits enthroned over the whole of creation, with none to challenge Him. He is the beginning of all things, and He will be the end of all things. Eternally before all things came to be, and eternally after all things cease to be, He is. We might like think of ourselves as the measure of all things, but in reality, we’re the measure of just about nothing… we can’t even measure ourselves without a reference point. (As a sidebar, try measuring yourself sometime, without any external reference point; no other people, no watch, no scale, no measuring tape, no GPA, no GPS, no history; when you’ve finished the exercise of your own inherent incompetence, keep reading…)
At the end of the day, without the objective Word of God, given by the One who stands eternally as the objective standard by which all things are measured, judged, and even rationally comprehended, we’re lost. We need His Word to tell us up from down, left from right, good from evil. His Word is written in the very fabric of the universe He created, so that we can understand cause and effect, time and energy and mass, and even life and death. His Word pierces our darkness and confusion with the blinding light of His eternal Law, so that we might know the difference between His majesty and holiness, versus our own wretchedness and evil. His Word that brought all things to be, sustains them through His good and gracious will, and provides us the light we need to enlighten our reason, orienting ourselves in all things. The further we get from His Word, the more confused, irrational, and incoherent we become.
Most importantly, though, we need His Word which was made flesh and dwelt among us—a Word beheld by the Apostles full of grace and truth, as the Only Son of the Father. This Word we need most of all, because after the Word of His Law reveals the hopelessness of our fallen human condition, this Word Made Flesh reveals to us to resolution of our troubles. The very Word of God, Jesus Christ, who took on our flesh, our sin, our death, reveals to us not only the extent of sin’s curse, but the unfathomable richness of God’s love for each and every human being. The love of God is made known to us, in His Word Made Flesh, the very image of the invisible God. It is the Word of God which was nailed to the tree, suffered death at the hands of the sinful creatures He came to save, and rose victoriously from the grave. It is the Word of God which speaks to us, that life and forgiveness is found in Him alone—for no one comes to the Father but through the Son, by the working of the Holy Spirit.
When we come to the end of ourselves, we find that it really is all about the Word. The Word does not come to us to justify itself, but to give us Justification, where we have only death and hopelessness on our own. The Word need not present itself before us, yet it comes to every person, that we might know the love of God for us all. The King of the Universe has spoken in words of Law and Gospel, that we might hear, repent, believe, and live. The Word—His Word—is everything to us. May Jesus Christ, the Word of God made flesh, ever be at the center of our meditations and contemplations, burning and hidden in our hearts, that we may never wonder from Him. Amen.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Meditations on Grace: Psalm 107
“Let them thank the LORD for His steadfast love, for His wondrous works to the children of men.”Psalm 107
The readings for this coming 4th Sunday in Lent, strike me as a great opportunity to meditate on what grace really is. In our confirmation classes we usually start out with basic definitions such as “an undeserved gift,” and work our way out from there. But as many Christians have put quite a few years under the bridge since middle school or high school confirmation studies, it might be time to revisit this concept again for a broader audience. Just what is grace, anyway?
In our psalm for this week, numerous human events are juxtaposed with God’s deliverance. People wander from God’s Word, and thus from God Himself, finding themselves in calamity and danger. Each time they return to God, calling out to Him in faith, He delivers them. The peoples’ weakness in faith, hope, and love, is met by their Creator with a steadfast love and wondrous works of salvation. What is unsure with people, becomes sure with God.
We can be deceived by the notion, that because God promises to deliver us when we call on him in faith, that somehow He owes this to us. After all, if God promised to deliver us, and we fulfill our end of the bargain, God is bound to keep up His end, right? We just do our wandering and self serving, keeping an eye on the horizon to ensure we don’t get too far away from God, and when it looks like the consequences of our evil are about to whack us, we run back to God and say, “save me!” That’s the old error we often refer to as “cheap grace,” which in the end, really isn’t grace at all. It’s a way of trying to exact wages from God—and believe me, you don’t want God giving you what you earned.
Grace being something undeserved, we can’t turn it into a work we initiate. We can’t manage God’s economy, play the derivatives market, and hope to profit at the end. The first of God’s gracious gifts is to bless us with His Law, which reveals our true situation—in the face of a holy God, we can only despair of our unfaithfulness and evil. But, in despairing of our own works, we are left with our eyes on Him as our only hope of salvation, as there is none left in all creation who can deliver us from our wages earned under sin. Those eyes which despair of the self and plead for mercy from above, are given the greater gift: forgiveness, life, and salvation in Christ.
This is why grace can only be received by faith—a faith that trusts in Christ alone. There is nothing in ourselves we can hope to cling to, no plan we can hope to devise, no deal we can hope to cut. Our saving faith of trust and love is either in our Savior, or it is not. God is not bound to offer us anything other than judgment for the sake of our sins, but in Jesus Christ, we are clothed in His righteousness and healed by His wounds. Here, the repentant heart calls out in faith, “Lord, save me!” And here, our gracious and loving God reaches out to us just like He did to St. Peter on the raging waters, and taking our hand, asks us, “Why did you doubt?”
A good question for us to ponder during Lent—why do we doubt? Why do we leave the steadfast love of God, and go chasing idols made in our own image? Why do we tempt God by sleeping with the devil, and planning to hold God to account for saving us when our debauchery finds us out? Any willful sin is mortal and deadly, revealing our lack of faith, and hope, and trust in our saving God—and to those in mortal sin, they remain in mortal danger of the judgment of God, for apart from faith, there is no grace. But for those who believe, who have been given the Spirit’s gift of faith and trust in our Lord Jesus Christ, there is no calamity or danger He will not rescue us from—no peril or enemy He will abandon us to. Living by grace, forgiven and free through faith in the Son of God, even the pains of death do not destroy us. Sin, death, and the devil are conquered, and we are left as inheritors of eternal life, through cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Let the devil rage, and the world chase their folly. We have Christ crucified for us, poor and miserable sinners though we be, and His gift of grace which He brings to our hearts of faith. There is no terror of the night or day which can harm us, no wickedness nor evil which can undo us. We live by grace through faith in Christ, who alone is the victor over every evil foe—who alone is the author and finisher of our faith. He calls to us, bidding us to repent, believe, and live. Hear Him. Amen.
The readings for this coming 4th Sunday in Lent, strike me as a great opportunity to meditate on what grace really is. In our confirmation classes we usually start out with basic definitions such as “an undeserved gift,” and work our way out from there. But as many Christians have put quite a few years under the bridge since middle school or high school confirmation studies, it might be time to revisit this concept again for a broader audience. Just what is grace, anyway?
In our psalm for this week, numerous human events are juxtaposed with God’s deliverance. People wander from God’s Word, and thus from God Himself, finding themselves in calamity and danger. Each time they return to God, calling out to Him in faith, He delivers them. The peoples’ weakness in faith, hope, and love, is met by their Creator with a steadfast love and wondrous works of salvation. What is unsure with people, becomes sure with God.
We can be deceived by the notion, that because God promises to deliver us when we call on him in faith, that somehow He owes this to us. After all, if God promised to deliver us, and we fulfill our end of the bargain, God is bound to keep up His end, right? We just do our wandering and self serving, keeping an eye on the horizon to ensure we don’t get too far away from God, and when it looks like the consequences of our evil are about to whack us, we run back to God and say, “save me!” That’s the old error we often refer to as “cheap grace,” which in the end, really isn’t grace at all. It’s a way of trying to exact wages from God—and believe me, you don’t want God giving you what you earned.
Grace being something undeserved, we can’t turn it into a work we initiate. We can’t manage God’s economy, play the derivatives market, and hope to profit at the end. The first of God’s gracious gifts is to bless us with His Law, which reveals our true situation—in the face of a holy God, we can only despair of our unfaithfulness and evil. But, in despairing of our own works, we are left with our eyes on Him as our only hope of salvation, as there is none left in all creation who can deliver us from our wages earned under sin. Those eyes which despair of the self and plead for mercy from above, are given the greater gift: forgiveness, life, and salvation in Christ.
This is why grace can only be received by faith—a faith that trusts in Christ alone. There is nothing in ourselves we can hope to cling to, no plan we can hope to devise, no deal we can hope to cut. Our saving faith of trust and love is either in our Savior, or it is not. God is not bound to offer us anything other than judgment for the sake of our sins, but in Jesus Christ, we are clothed in His righteousness and healed by His wounds. Here, the repentant heart calls out in faith, “Lord, save me!” And here, our gracious and loving God reaches out to us just like He did to St. Peter on the raging waters, and taking our hand, asks us, “Why did you doubt?”
A good question for us to ponder during Lent—why do we doubt? Why do we leave the steadfast love of God, and go chasing idols made in our own image? Why do we tempt God by sleeping with the devil, and planning to hold God to account for saving us when our debauchery finds us out? Any willful sin is mortal and deadly, revealing our lack of faith, and hope, and trust in our saving God—and to those in mortal sin, they remain in mortal danger of the judgment of God, for apart from faith, there is no grace. But for those who believe, who have been given the Spirit’s gift of faith and trust in our Lord Jesus Christ, there is no calamity or danger He will not rescue us from—no peril or enemy He will abandon us to. Living by grace, forgiven and free through faith in the Son of God, even the pains of death do not destroy us. Sin, death, and the devil are conquered, and we are left as inheritors of eternal life, through cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Let the devil rage, and the world chase their folly. We have Christ crucified for us, poor and miserable sinners though we be, and His gift of grace which He brings to our hearts of faith. There is no terror of the night or day which can harm us, no wickedness nor evil which can undo us. We live by grace through faith in Christ, who alone is the victor over every evil foe—who alone is the author and finisher of our faith. He calls to us, bidding us to repent, believe, and live. Hear Him. Amen.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Loving the Law: Psalm 19
It would seem that people have a love / hate relationship to law in general. Many folks love laws that protect or help them, but bristle when those laws restrict their interests. Everything from traffic lights and speed limits, to insider trading and investment fraud… we like the laws that serve us, and hate the ones that hinder us.
God’s Law is different from man’s law, though. When God speaks His Law, He speaks something about Himself—something that, like Him, doesn’t change. Men set up laws based on what they want, or what they understand, but God establishes Law as an expression of Himself. Part of how we know God, is through His Law.
And what does God’s Law reveal about Him? He is holy, pure, and righteous. As St. John would write, He is the Light of the World which no darkness can overcome—indeed, in Him there is no darkness at all. He is good, and has never compromised with evil. He has created all things according to His good will, and has placed them all into their order and place, to do what He has created them for. God is holy, and thus we find that His Law is holy, as well.
But we human beings, saddled as we are by sin and death, tend to react badly to God’s Law, particularly when it hampers our own interests and desires. When I want to do what the Law of God forbids, I look for a way around it. When I want to act outside the created order I have been placed in, I try to find ways to do so apart from God’s Law. When I want to pursue things that are not given to me, to leave my duties and God-given vocations behind, I seek for ways to abandon my responsibilities and take what I want. And when my rationalizing fails, or I get called to repent of my dodging of God’s Law, the first and most natural response that I feel is to rebel and curse the Law of God—which is really to curse God Himself. In dodging God’s Law, what I’m really saying to God is, “Who are you to curtail me? Who are you to bind me? Who are you to control me? Don’t you know that I am the master of my own fate—that I am my own god?”
Ah, and there it is. The Law shows me that I’m a sinner—and a sinner of the worst kind. I’m an idolater, a breaker of the very first commandment, to have no other gods but Him. I show myself to not love God above all things, but rather, that I love myself above all things—God and neighbor included. The Law shows me that I am condemned, because I condemn myself in things done and left undone, things spoken and left unspoken. The holy and righteous Law of God works like a mirror, to show me my frightful image of depravity, and the end I have earned. How can I love such a Law? How can I sing with David such words as he writes here? How can I love what justly condemns me to hell, for the sinful and wretched man that I am?
The answer, is the gift of God in Jesus Christ. Where the Law shows us our hopelessness before the righteousness of God, Jesus shows us the Love He has for us in this, that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. Knowing our self idolatry and evil, and knowing that we had no way to save ourselves, the Son of God took on flesh and dwelt among us, that we might behold His glory—the glory of the Only Begotten. Being found in our flesh, He took upon Himself the sin and evil of the whole world, that He might be the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Having suffered and died on the bloody Cross, He satisfied the holy Law of God, bringing peace to men. What the Law could not accomplish because of our sinfulness, Christ Jesus accomplished through His own precious Blood, poured out as our ransom and propitiation. In Christ we are washed clean, so that if we have been united to Him in a death like His, we shall most certainly be united to Him in His life forevermore. Where the Law of God condemned us, Christ Jesus has saved us. In Jesus we are no longer slaves of sin, death, and the devil—but rather we have been set free by the Son who abides forever. O, what victory Christ has won for us, who could win nothing on our own!
And here we see in retrospect by faith, what blessed David foresaw by faith: the Law is no longer a terror to those who have died and live in Christ. The Law is our guide, our correction to the sinful flesh, a reflection both of the goodness of God and of our own depravity, just as it always has been. But now set free from the curse of the Law by the Blood of Christ, we can love that perfect and holy Law just as we can love that perfect and holy God. For our God is not against us, but for us—He has gone through hell and back to save us, taking upon Himself the judgment which was our due. Knowing the love of God in Christ Jesus, we can sing with David:
7 The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul;The testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple;8 The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart;The commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes;9 The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever;The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.10 More to be desired are they than gold,Yea, than much fine gold;Sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb.11 Moreover by them Your servant is warned,And in keeping them there is great reward.
12 Who can understand his errors?Cleanse me from secret faults.13 Keep back Your servant also from presumptuous sins;Let them not have dominion over me.Then I shall be blameless,And I shall be innocent of great transgression.
14 Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heartBe acceptable in Your sight,O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer.
Amen.
God’s Law is different from man’s law, though. When God speaks His Law, He speaks something about Himself—something that, like Him, doesn’t change. Men set up laws based on what they want, or what they understand, but God establishes Law as an expression of Himself. Part of how we know God, is through His Law.
And what does God’s Law reveal about Him? He is holy, pure, and righteous. As St. John would write, He is the Light of the World which no darkness can overcome—indeed, in Him there is no darkness at all. He is good, and has never compromised with evil. He has created all things according to His good will, and has placed them all into their order and place, to do what He has created them for. God is holy, and thus we find that His Law is holy, as well.
But we human beings, saddled as we are by sin and death, tend to react badly to God’s Law, particularly when it hampers our own interests and desires. When I want to do what the Law of God forbids, I look for a way around it. When I want to act outside the created order I have been placed in, I try to find ways to do so apart from God’s Law. When I want to pursue things that are not given to me, to leave my duties and God-given vocations behind, I seek for ways to abandon my responsibilities and take what I want. And when my rationalizing fails, or I get called to repent of my dodging of God’s Law, the first and most natural response that I feel is to rebel and curse the Law of God—which is really to curse God Himself. In dodging God’s Law, what I’m really saying to God is, “Who are you to curtail me? Who are you to bind me? Who are you to control me? Don’t you know that I am the master of my own fate—that I am my own god?”
Ah, and there it is. The Law shows me that I’m a sinner—and a sinner of the worst kind. I’m an idolater, a breaker of the very first commandment, to have no other gods but Him. I show myself to not love God above all things, but rather, that I love myself above all things—God and neighbor included. The Law shows me that I am condemned, because I condemn myself in things done and left undone, things spoken and left unspoken. The holy and righteous Law of God works like a mirror, to show me my frightful image of depravity, and the end I have earned. How can I love such a Law? How can I sing with David such words as he writes here? How can I love what justly condemns me to hell, for the sinful and wretched man that I am?
The answer, is the gift of God in Jesus Christ. Where the Law shows us our hopelessness before the righteousness of God, Jesus shows us the Love He has for us in this, that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. Knowing our self idolatry and evil, and knowing that we had no way to save ourselves, the Son of God took on flesh and dwelt among us, that we might behold His glory—the glory of the Only Begotten. Being found in our flesh, He took upon Himself the sin and evil of the whole world, that He might be the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Having suffered and died on the bloody Cross, He satisfied the holy Law of God, bringing peace to men. What the Law could not accomplish because of our sinfulness, Christ Jesus accomplished through His own precious Blood, poured out as our ransom and propitiation. In Christ we are washed clean, so that if we have been united to Him in a death like His, we shall most certainly be united to Him in His life forevermore. Where the Law of God condemned us, Christ Jesus has saved us. In Jesus we are no longer slaves of sin, death, and the devil—but rather we have been set free by the Son who abides forever. O, what victory Christ has won for us, who could win nothing on our own!
And here we see in retrospect by faith, what blessed David foresaw by faith: the Law is no longer a terror to those who have died and live in Christ. The Law is our guide, our correction to the sinful flesh, a reflection both of the goodness of God and of our own depravity, just as it always has been. But now set free from the curse of the Law by the Blood of Christ, we can love that perfect and holy Law just as we can love that perfect and holy God. For our God is not against us, but for us—He has gone through hell and back to save us, taking upon Himself the judgment which was our due. Knowing the love of God in Christ Jesus, we can sing with David:
7 The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul;The testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple;8 The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart;The commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes;9 The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever;The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.10 More to be desired are they than gold,Yea, than much fine gold;Sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb.11 Moreover by them Your servant is warned,And in keeping them there is great reward.
12 Who can understand his errors?Cleanse me from secret faults.13 Keep back Your servant also from presumptuous sins;Let them not have dominion over me.Then I shall be blameless,And I shall be innocent of great transgression.
14 Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heartBe acceptable in Your sight,O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer.
Amen.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
A Moment of Introduction
There's absolutely no need for more blogs. The world is full of them. However, I'm beginning this one with a peculiar bent-- the view from a Lutheran hermitage. My hermitage is not a hut in the desert (though a desert island hut sounds awfully inviting...) but rather, the humble and peaceful home carved out in a raucus world. My hermitage is an intentional break with the spirit of the age, and an attempt to create some barriers between those who need the peace and grace of Christ, and those who exhaust themselves in the pursuits of shadows.
My intentions are to reflect from a confessional perspective, upon the faith once for all, delivered to the saints, and the relationship of that faith in the wilderness of modernity in which we live. In so far as this hermit's observations are of value to you in pointing you toward Christ, may they bless you. Whatever is sinful and suspect, may it be purged away.
My intentions are to reflect from a confessional perspective, upon the faith once for all, delivered to the saints, and the relationship of that faith in the wilderness of modernity in which we live. In so far as this hermit's observations are of value to you in pointing you toward Christ, may they bless you. Whatever is sinful and suspect, may it be purged away.
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