Life is often a battle with inconsistency. We go from feeling good about our situations and God’s favor, to feeling like we are in a spiritual desert, and back again like a pendulum. Knowing this, God provides verses like Psalm 126:4-6, which says:
“Restore our fortunes, O LORD, like streams in the Negeb! Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him.”
The metaphor is a comparison to the south of Israel, which has a very dry climate, yet experiences flooding in a rainstorm. The Negeb also is mentioned in the story of Caleb and his daughter Achsah. Her inherited land was in the infertile Negeb, and she asks him also for springs of water, which he gives her.[1]
Like Achsah’s father Caleb, our Father God also provides for us in our seasons of trouble. Here, the Psalmist compares tears to seeds, reminding us that in the dry times as well as the times of overflowing blessing, God is with us, using those circumstances. Our current loss is future gain, and our current time of suffering is bound and measured by God’s will, like the Babylonian exile was measured at 70 years[2] and the year of Jubilee came after every 49 years[3]. After our time, we will enter His rest and rejoice eternally.
In this life we may experience spiritual and emotional extremes, like drought and flood in the desert. Don’t overreact to the pendulum swing but count your tears as seeds. Pray that He will restore your fortunes and thank Him that our seasons are in His hands.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” – Matthew 5:4
[1] Joshua 15:18-19 [2] Daniel 9:2, 9:24 [3] Leviticus 25:8
A recent post was about Jeremiah’s comparison of false religion to a broken cistern, with God alternatively being “the fountain of living waters.”[1] Jeremiah lived when most of God’s people – including most of the priests and prophets – had turned from Him to follow other gods. As Jeremiah remained faithful, correctly predicting that Jerusalem would fall to Babylon, he was persecuted, including this instance in Jeremiah 38:6, where King Zedekiah’s officials “took Jeremiah and cast him into the cistern of Malchiah, the king’s son, which was in the court of the guard, letting Jeremiah down by ropes. And there was no water in the cistern, but only mud, and Jeremiah sank in the mud.”
Since God is “the fountain of living waters,” the only path to eternal blessing, it’s incredibly ironic that Jeremiah, one of the few remaining faithful prophets and therefore a rare source of God’s “living waters,” should be cast into a cistern with no water. Perhaps it was broken. King Zedekiah thought he could silence the “living waters” Jeremiah represented by casting them into a cistern, trading truth for falsehood.
Later, Jeremiah seems to recall the cistern experience in Lamentations 3:52-57, where he said:
“I have been hunted like a bird by those who were my enemies without cause; they flung me alive into the pit and cast stones on me; water closed over my head; I said, ‘I am lost.’ ‘I called on your name, O LORD, from the depths of the pit; you heard my plea, ‘Do not close your ear to my cry for help!’ You came near when I called on you; you said, ‘Do not fear!’”
Returning to the book of Jeremiah, we read that Ebed-melech, an Ethiopian eunuch, heard of Jeremiah’s situation and pleaded his case: “My lord the king, these men have done evil in all that they did to Jeremiah the prophet by casting him into the cistern, and he will die there of hunger, for there is no bread left in the city.”[2] This unlikely source – a foreigner – was Jeremiah’s deliverance from God to rescue Jeremiah from the well. Ebed-melech gathered 30 men, “Then they drew Jeremiah up with ropes and lifted him out of the cistern. And Jeremiah remained in the court of the guard.”
Jeremiah was not the only Old Testament figure to suffer for his faithfulness. Many years earlier, King David also referred to “sinking in the mire” in the Messianic Psalm 69, verses 14-15:
“Deliver me from sinking in the mire; let me be delivered from my enemies and from the deep waters. Let not the flood sweep over me, or the deep swallow me up, or the pit close its mouth over me.”
David knew this feeling of sinking came not because of his sin, but when he was faithfully serving his Lord. David’s “sinking in the mire” happened under these circumstances from verse 9 of the same Psalm:
“For zeal for your house has consumed me, and the reproaches of those who reproach you have fallen on me.”
In Jeremiah’s case, as well as David’s and that of Jesus, whom Psalm 69 foreshadowed[3], we know that cannot judge our faithfulness based on whether it improves our circumstances. When we do, we might stop being faithful because it seems we are “sinking in the mire.” Being reproached by the world and feeling down aren’t the circumstances we prefer, but “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”[4] Through these and all other circumstances, God develops in us deeper trust in Him.
Therefore, with David may we pray:
“But as for me, my prayer is to you, O LORD. At an acceptable time, O God, in the abundance of your steadfast love answer me in your saving faithfulness.” – Psalm 69:13
And in His time, He will deliver us, perhaps in ways we don’t expect.
Coda
In 1995, Christian rock group Jars of Clay released their self-titled album, and the track “Flood” has similar themes to this post. The song was also a mainstream hit, charting as high as No. 12 on the Billboard Modern Rock Tracks chart,[5] amazing for a song that is essentially a prayer like David’s in Psalm 69.
In the Old Testament, King David wanted to build a temple for God, reasoning that people lived in houses, but God has only ever lived in a tabernacle (tent). Why should people live in a nicer place than God? However, David was not allowed to build the temple, but God said his son Solomon would build it. David gives the reason in a speech to Israel from 1 Chronicles 28:2-3:
“I had it in my heart to build a house of rest for the ark of the covenant of the LORD and for the footstool of our God, and I made preparations for building. But God said to me, ‘You may not build a house for my name, for you are a man of war and have shed blood.’” (emphasis mine)
Since becoming king, David had to fight many of Israel’s neighbors in order to establish peace, which was accomplished by Solomon’s time as king. But David was not idle regarding the temple; he made many preparations to make Solomon’s job easier when the time came. After David’s death, Solomon, preparing for construction, worked with Hiram king of Tyre to secure lumber. In his letter to Hiram, Solomon wrote:
“You know that David my father could not build a house for the name of the LORD his God because of the warfare with which his enemies surrounded him, until the LORD put them under the soles of his feet. But now the LORD my God has given me rest on every side. There is neither adversary nor misfortune.” – 1 Kings 5:3-4
God wanted His temple – His dwelling place – built under peaceful conditions, by a peaceful leader, not by a warrior. Under Solomon’s leadership, God’s temple was completed.
Solomon’s temple is no more, but God is now building another temple – another dwelling place – His church. How do we know this? Peter wrote that Christians as “living stones are being built up as a spiritual house”[1] and Paul that Christians “also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.”[2] God now spiritually lives in and among His people, not in a physical building.
What does David and Solomon’s experience teach us about the temple God is now building? We know that Solomon’s temple had to be built by peaceful people, and Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount, in Matthew 5:9, that:
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.”
In the Greek language used in the New Testament, the word for peace comes from the verb “to join,” so peacemaking has to do with joining people together. Between believers, this means that the more we live like Christ, the more we are able to join together in unity. From believers to unbelievers, this “joining” means we offer them the love Christ gave us and hope and pray they will join with Him. When discussing all issues non-essential to salvation, this means we seek to join and not separate, to promote peace instead of discord.
So, with God now building a temple of peacemakers, Paul urges us to be “eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”[3] Pray that this Spirit can grow in each of us and in His people worldwide!
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.”
[1] 1 Peter 2:5 [2] Ephesians 2:22 [3] Ephesians 4:3
Today is the last post in a 5-part series on the first Beatitude from Matthew 5:3 – “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Today’s thought begins with how the Apostle Paul, who met Jesus on the road to Damascus[1], emphasized how being “poor in spirit” is universal across all demographic characteristics:
“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” – Galatians 3:28 “Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.” – Colossians 3:11
Paul wrote two different lists, meaning they are not comprehensive. He simply couldn’t include every possible example of the ways Christ eliminates barriers, but provided examples of the main point, which is “all.” Prior to these verses, he writes that “in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith” (Galatians 3:27) and that we “have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator.” (Colossians 3:10) This “new self” is the new identity, which is the only one that matters, that we are “sons of God”.
What does this have to do with “Blessed are the poor in spirit”?
Paul knows that Jesus provides – in full – the only way for salvation, on the cross and through His resurrection. What we think are accomplishments “in the flesh” do not make us “rich” in spirit, and in fact may make us worse off. Paul expands on this in Philippians 3:4-7, discarding any confidence he has in the flesh as “loss”:
“Though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.”
In other words, Paul is saying that his obedience to the ceremonial law of the Old Testament, his genealogy, his denomination, his nationality, and his recognition as a religious expert provided no value, in fact negative value (“loss”), toward his salvation in Christ. From the earlier verses we can add gender and economic status to the list. His identity in earthly terms is a negative whenever it gets in the way of his identity in Christ. When he counted on these things for salvation, they only clouded his view of what was really needed and were in the way of accepting it. They were a distraction, a waste of time. This applies not just to Paul, but to anyone: religious pedigree, ethnicity, nationality, or any other accomplishment is a negative contribution if it causes us to refuse His free offer of His righteousness.
It also affects how we present Christ to others. If our own definition of “poor in spirit” includes a complete lack of faith in our “flesh”, it becomes easier to offer the gospel to “all” others, to approach them in love, and therefore to reflect the kingdom of heaven. To love our neighbor includes not limiting who our neighbor is. In the parable of the Good Samaritan, the person beaten and abandoned on the side of the road is only identified as “a man.”[2] If we know that our identity also did not matter in our salvation, that it may have made us even poorer in spirit, the identity of our neighbor will not matter either. The unity and outreach of the church depend on the idea that all are equally “poor in spirit.”
Pray for Christ to enable you to embrace your new identity, your new spirit, and provide new motivation to be a more faithful subject in His kingdom.
“For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” – Matthew 6:14-15 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” – Matthew 5:3
Today is part 4 of a series on the first Beatitude from Matthew 5:3 – “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
In this post, we begin later in the same chapter as the Beatitudes, where Jesus includes as sin matters of the soul’s inclination, which are entirely internal:
“You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire.” – Matthew 5:21-22 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” – Matthew 5:27-28
Some people say that what is done in private, either alone or with other “consenting” people, is none of our business. “Who does it hurt?” they say. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells everyone that He cares about what they do, in public and in private. Even within themselves. He is not saying this to embarrass anyone, but to break down their spiritual pride and lead them to depend on Him. To Jesus, intent makes us spiritually poor as much as action does. Sin is not a matter of consequence; it is a matter of conscience. It includes not only the action, but the inclination to the action.
But who does it hurt; some might ask? When excluding from our definition of sin things that other people don’t see, we may be tempted to turn faith into performance art, like the scribes and Pharisees, who “do all their deeds to be seen by others. For they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long, and they love the place of honor at feasts and the best seats in the synagogues and greetings in the marketplaces and being called rabbi by others.”[1] Those “ashamed” from Monday’s post who come to church looking for compassion will only feel alienated unless they join in the performance.
If only public righteousness matters, the pressure of keeping up appearances can mean that internal sins – though just as important as external sins that have obvious consequences – remain private and un-dealt with, keeping us from relying on Jesus to restore the joy of our salvation! Compensating for guilt, and the pressure of managing expectations, become primary drivers of action rather than the guidance of the Spirit, and the fruit of the Spirit is nowhere to be found. When we know we are not really changed and are failing, we may try to hide it to keep up appearances. We harbor guilt and bitterness and become unable to accept ourselves and love others.
Instead, testimony of our brokenness is an essential part of Christian witness. In his letters, the Apostle Paul repeatedly mentions his own past because it highlights the grace of God and power of Christ in redeeming him. Likewise, those connected to Christ must confess their brokenness openly and ask His help. Hiding our brokenness – keeping it private (sometimes even trying to keep it from Him) – obscures the power and necessity of the gospel from those who need to hear and understand it, and also keeps us from experiencing its power in our souls. If we do not count as brokenness things where we do not see the consequence, we keep Jesus at a distance and the kingdom of heaven will not rule us. Who does it hurt? Well, us to begin, but also those around us who we love less as a result of hidden, secret sin.
Humanity’s need is spiritual, and our brokenness comes from the inside, not the outside. From conscience, not consequence. When humanity denies that brokenness is an internal, sometimes hidden, problem, it will face only the symptoms of the problem, and with the wrong prescriptions. External forces cannot fix our internal inclinations and will tend toward the original sin of Adam and Eve, seeking the tree of wisdom in the garden that seems to offer an alternate way of governing ourselves. Any laws, including some forms of religion, or systems of coercion will not fundamentally change us, but may provide an appearance of doing so, or worse, an incentive for a harsher system of coercion. When coercion isn’t working, and spiritual solutions are denied, greater coercion often follows. Unless we know we are broken, and how we are broken, we refuse the solution offered by the kingdom of heaven and remain lost looking for an alternative that does not exist[2].
We must not accept anything less than Christ’s righteousness. But we must accept Christ’s righteousness at our very core. Only the power of the gospel – the good news of the kingdom of God – can make straight what is crooked at its very internal, often secret, root[3].
“And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.” – Acts 4:12 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” – Matthew 5:3
[1] Matthew 23:5-7 [2] I’m not advocating for anarchy or libertarianism or any particular form of government but pointing out that what a society thinks its government can, and should, do reflects that society’s view on what it expects government to solve. [3] Ecclesiastes 1:15 and 7:13
Driving Toward the Morning Sun 