http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/15430940/the-fatherly-way-of-pauls-exhortation

Audio Transcript

Welcome back to the podcast. We started the week looking at the key to following God’s will. And last time, in Monday’s episode, Pastor John closed with a very great point on Colossians 1:9. There we saw that Paul was asking God to pour out his Holy Spirit, so the Spirit would remove “the dimness of our ability to see God for who he really is,” so that “we would have spiritual wisdom that experiences preferences and makes choices that are in harmony” with God’s beauty. Seeing more of God is essential to following his will in our daily decision-making. That was Monday (in APJ 1807). Go back and listen to that episode if you skipped it or if you missed it, because today we put that principle into practice. We do so by looking at an example of one man who proceeded with a major life decision with confidence, knowing he was following God’s will. He knew it. He was confident in his decision because he was following the trajectory of God’s revealed will. This is a clip taken from an old John Piper sermon, preached way back in 1982. Here’s Pastor John.

Now, Jesus taught us to pray every day, “Your will be done, on earth as it is done in heaven” (Matthew 6:10). Therefore, everyone who confesses Jesus as Lord makes it his aim day by day, consistently and heartily, to do the will of God the way that the angels do it in heaven. And if we are not making it our aim to do the will of God day by day, then it is very likely that we do not belong to Jesus, because Jesus himself said, “Whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother” (Matthew 12:50). In other words, the family resemblance in the family of God is not so much perfect performance of the will of God, but rather persistent purposing to do it day by day. The mark of the child of God is not that we always hit the bull’s-eye of God’s will, but that we always aim at the targets appointed by the Father day by day.

“The great aim of the church is to do the will of God, to honor the way it’s done in heaven.”

The great aim of the church is to do the will of God, to honor the way it’s done in heaven. And for many of us, that means a constant struggle for two things: on the one hand, to know what the will of God is for our personal lives, and on the other hand, to maintain a strong confidence that God will give us the strength that we need to do it and run interference for us so that all obstacles will be removed.

Knowing Biblical Trajectories

Now, in Genesis 24:1–9, I think we’ve got an incident from Abraham’s life that shows us, on the one hand, how he discovered God’s will, and on the other hand, how he kept his confidence strong that God would always be running interference when he held close to God’s will. And I think the reason stories like this are put in the Bible for us is that we might learn (1) how to know his will and (2) how to keep that confidence in God’s help strong.

So, in advance, let me tell you what I think the main point to be learned about these two things is from this text. I think the main point is this: we can know God’s will, and we can maintain confidence in his help to do it, if we’re familiar with the trajectories of his word. Now, in this day and age, I hope everybody knows what trajectories are. For the last 25 years, we’ve heard about them on the television. A trajectory of a rocket is the path that it will follow on the basis of its shape and speed and weight and direction. So you can know in advance what the trajectory or the path of that rocket’s going to be if you know enough about the rocket and how it’s moving. Now, I think that’s the way it is with knowing God’s word and finding out God’s will.

“You are to be able to find out God’s will tomorrow by becoming very familiar with the trajectories of God’s word.”

The Bible simply does not give you a radar screen or a blueprint of your life tomorrow. It leaves so many questions unanswered about what you should do. And the intention, I think, of God is that you are to be able to find out God’s will tomorrow by becoming very familiar with the trajectories of God’s word that you know from the past — and you could add to that the trajectories of his work that he has been doing in your life up to this time. If you become familiar enough with the weight and direction and the shape and speed of the word of God, then you’ll be able to trace out the trajectory of God’s will for you and maintain strength in his help.

Three Trajectories in Abraham’s Life

Now, let’s see how that worked for Abraham. I think maybe if we look at how Abraham did it, we might become better at it. Sometimes God spoke to Abraham directly, told him exactly what to do face to face. But if you read the story, you realize that those times were few and far between — decades between the times we read of God speaking to Abraham.

Most of the time, Abraham, like us, was left to trace out trajectories from what God had said in the past into the future so that he’d know what to do with his life, what steps to take. That’s what’s happening, I think, here in Genesis 24:1–9. There are three trajectories from God’s word that combine into one line of God’s will for Abraham here. The first trajectory is this: Isaac must have a wife. The second trajectory is this: the wife may not be a Canaanite woman. And the third trajectory is this: Isaac may not return to the land from which Abraham left to get a wife.

Those three trajectories merge for Abraham into a line of decision. And the decision, he is convinced, is God’s will. And the decision is this: “I will send my trusted servant to get a wife for my son from among my own kindred in my own land.” Abraham determines the will of God for the future by tracing out trajectories that he has learned from the past word of God. And then he’s confident, absolutely confident — so confident that he says in verse 7, “[God] will send his angel before you, and you shall take a wife for my son.” From which I infer that once we know the will of God, we can have tremendous confidence that God is going to work for us to clear away all obstacles to its success. Many of you have had that kind of experience.

Following the Rocket of God’s Will

Now, we want that to happen in our lives, don’t we? I don’t think there’s probably a person in this room who wouldn’t say right now in your own heart, “I want every day to know clearly God’s will for me. I want to know. I want to have questions answered about marriage, children, job changes, major purchases, schooling decisions, the use of my leisure time and what to do with it, special ministries and whether to get involved and how deeply involved, church affiliation (Bethlehem or another one), percentage of our income to give to the church and to give to World Vision and to give to World Relief and to give here, there, and everywhere. I want to know God’s will.”

I think all of you probably would say that. And you want confidence that he will work for you once you have hit upon the will, that if he tells you it’s his will for you to give 15 percent of your income to Bethlehem, he’s going to work for you and make that 85 percent stretch vastly further than the 100 percent would’ve ever reached. That’s the kind of faith we want once we hit upon God’s will. We want to be led — and led in triumph, as Paul said (2 Corinthians 2:14). Now, Scriptures like Genesis 24 are given to help us maintain that insight and that confidence, I think. And so, I want us to look at it even more closely.

The reason that I call these three things in Genesis 24 trajectories and not commands is because God never commanded Abraham explicitly that his son must have a wife, that his wife could not be a Canaanitess, and that he may not return to Mesopotamia. He never said that. The only way Abraham could determine that, so far as we see from Scripture, is by tracing out trajectories from things God did say to him in the past. And he had said things that pointed in that direction.

God had, as it were, launched the rocket of his will. And now and then, he allowed the clouds at Cape Canaveral to clear for Abraham, and Abraham could see the kind of rocket it was, the direction it was going, and how fast it was going, and then the clouds came back over. And Abraham was left to trace out the trajectory for his own behavior from what God had revealed of the rocket’s path and nature.

Have you also found that it can be much easier to pray for your own sins than to deal with others’ sins against you?

With the first, we can confess to our Lord, take up one of his many promises of pardon, and have our souls restored. With the second, the process can be more inconvenient, messier.

With sinners who betray us, who embarrass us, who hurt us in that place we are most vulnerable, it can feel like climbing a mountain to even tell them we forgive them, let alone to forgive them “from [the] heart” (Matthew 18:35).

The fallen mind has a propensity to involuntarily replay others’ offenses. You see the scene, hear the words, feel the same stab repeatedly. Like a worm, the breach threatens to burrow deeper and deeper within us. The initial shock becomes a growing How could they? And the closer the relationship, the greater the chance of infection, as David knew well:

It is not an enemy who taunts me —     then I could bear it;it is not an adversary who deals insolently with me —     then I could hide from him.But it is you, a man, my equal,     my companion, my familiar friend.
(Psalm 55:12–13)

Perhaps you have been well taught on what to do with your sins against God, but is your heart also well instructed in what to do — and not to do — when others, especially fellow Christians, sin against you?

Ancient Help for Lingering Hurt

Love was expected from the start. From the beginning of Israel’s history under the Mosaic covenant, it was enshrined in law, passed down to subsequent generations:

You shall not hate your brother in your heart, but you shall reason frankly with your neighbor, lest you incur sin because of him. You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against the sons of your own people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord. (Leviticus 19:17–18)

I find this text supremely helpful in bearing the affliction of others’ sins against me.

First, it tells me that I shall not hate my brother in my heart. I can think that if I don’t lash out in the moment, if I don’t react unkindly or coldly, that this is the same as doing so in my heart. Self-control is not the same as love. You can practice self-control and harbor a cool contempt. This command forbids me from taking their sins as a squirrel does an acorn, storing them up in my heart and mind.

Second, it tells me I can sin against others in how I respond to their sin. “You shall not hate your brother in your heart . . . lest you incur sin because of him.” God is more concerned here with addressing my present or future sin than the past sin of the person who wronged me. This is challenging. I can be — and many times have been — simultaneously a victim and a culprit in the same situation because of how I responded.

And when I ruminate on sins, inwardly score-keep and note-take their crimes, this practice leads to the two other diseased fruits of hatred described: vengeance and grudges. I feel the need to either settle scores (vengeance) or refuse to move on (hold a grudge). And notice, in passing, the people against whom you and I are tempted to bear a grudge or seek vengeance: the people of your God. His children. His saints. Your own family.

How to Let It Go

What strikes me most in this text, however, are not the sinful ways I can respond to others’ sins — caressing the offense in my heart, holding a grudge, seeking to pay them back. Sadly, I know each too well. What strikes me most are God’s alternatives.

1. Do not hate him — go to him.

You shall not hate your brother in your heart, but you shall reason frankly with your neighbor, lest you incur sin because of him.

You shall not hate your brother in your heart, but. Here lies the narrow path: you shall speak with the person who sinned against you. (I’m assuming here normal circumstances in which there is no reasonable threat of physical harm that might preclude going alone).

Go to him — not away from him, treasuring his sins in your heart. Go to him, not away from him, to publish it on Twitter or to gossip it to others. Go to him. “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother” (Matthew 18:15).

Do not go to him to injure him, to take vengeance upon him, to accumulate more strength for your grudge. And while it may not be wise to speak with him that same day, do the heart-work necessary on that received sin before the sun falls: “Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and give no opportunity to the devil” (Ephesians 4:26–27).

“If you want to let the devil into your life, procrastinate and neglect to resolve your anger toward others.”

If you want to let the devil into your life, procrastinate and neglect to resolve your anger toward others. Don’t ever talk with them. Let the sun sleep before you have quieted and calmed your heart in prayer and confession before Christ.

2. Do not hate him — reason plainly with him.

“You shall reason frankly with your neighbor.” Isn’t it amazing that the alternative to hating your bother in your heart is talking to him? I am not to keep the offense in my mouth and savor it as candy; rather, I am to let it out through speaking the truth in love (Ephesians 4:15).

I have made the mistake of understanding “reason frankly” as “assume you’ve interpreted things rightly and tell that person.” I’ve learned to say instead, “I perceive you have done this,” or, “I believe you to have sinned against me and against God.” These have proved more fruitful beginnings. But be honest, for all of that. Don’t downplay their sin, but speak plainly in love for them.

To some, this will be very difficult. You despise conflict. You despise people disliking you. You would rather your brother or sister remain in patterns of sin against God, you would rather harbor the seeds of resentment inside, you would rather cover their sins in unrighteousness, than have an uncomfortable conversation. Your self-protection, in the end, is hate to your brother.

Half the time, while you might expectantly wait for an apology, your brother has no idea he sinned against you. Your noiseless bitterness robs him of repentance, and robs you of the opportunity to grow in courage, in obedience, in death to self, in self-awareness and repentance if you are wrong. I wager that silent resentment has done even more harm among us than contention following plain speech.

3. Do not hate him — love him as yourself.

You shall not hate your brother in your heart, . . . but you shall love your neighbor as yourself.

Is all of this not how we typically deal with ourselves?

No one has done more ill to you than you. No one has given more offense, no one has caused more problems, no one has made your life harder for yourself than yourself. Our sin — not others’ sins against us — is always our biggest problem. Not “him over here” or “that person there,” but me. Others’ sins can’t damn me. Others’ sins can’t ruin my soul (without my permission).

“Our sin — not others’ sins against us — is always our biggest problem.”

But though our biggest problem is us, we still love ourselves, don’t we? Few go around begrudging themselves, plotting vengeance against themselves, refusing to lend compassion to their own sins against others. Millions have passed without replay.

So how do you love your Christian neighbor? Like that. As Matthew Henry comments, “We often wrong ourselves, but we soon forgive ourselves those wrongs, and they do not at all lessen our love to ourselves; and in like manner we should love our neighbor.”

Don’t Hide Their Sins in Your Heart

Dealing plainly, honestly, speedily with our brothers and sisters in Christ loves them as we love ourselves, and as we have been loved ourselves. And are not even Christian communities that willingly bring faults to one another in love altogether rare? Is it not rather terrible and uncommon to be taken aside by a believer and told of your perceived wrongdoings? And here is the question: Should it be?

This is not a word to embolden faultfinders to voice all sins they see — unleashing Egypt’s plagues of flies, gnats, and frogs upon small groups everywhere. Nor does it remove the very real and beautiful call to silently cover others’ sins in love (Proverbs 10:12; 1 Peter 4:8). It is, rather, a word to encourage speech where there has been bitter silence, courage where there has been cowardice, and love where there has been hate.

As one who consistently responds to other peoples’ suffering and sin, sometimes I find myself at a loss for what to say. Other times, I know exactly what I want to say, but the person to whom I’m speaking doesn’t seem able to listen. I know I’m not alone in this experience. And I’m not just talking about professional counselors either, but anyone who tries to counsel others, whether at home, at church, in the workplace, or elsewhere. What do we do when we can’t seem to break through?

Let me offer a fourfold framework by which we can both listen and respond to others with Christlike wisdom. We see this framework in Christ’s own counseling — specifically as he counsels the churches in Revelation 2–3.

Counseling in Four Perspectives

The four elements of this framework are commendation, comfort, conviction, and challenge. Before I explain each below, first let me give a caveat: this is not a formula for counseling. Though I will present these components in an order — the order that occurs in my own counseling most frequently — there’s no strict progression. Each conversation may have a different combination of these four elements — or may, in fact, focus on only one or two of the four. These four elements are not so much a pattern or a formula as a multifaceted perspective by which to view the counseling task.

That sort of flexibility is exactly what we see in Christ’s counsel to the churches. As many commentators have noted, two of the seven letters lack any words designed to convict (Smyrna and Philadelphia), and yet with other churches (Sardis and Laodicea), Christ leans hard on convicting language and nearly eliminates commendation. Why the variability? Because the particulars of the situations vary. It’s often when we as counselors become formulaic (relying too much on a specific method), or we try too hard to force one particular element (because we trust our own evaluation), that we find ourselves stuck. In other words, when we become slaves to our own comfort or pride rather than servants of Christ, our counseling becomes inefficient and stale.

Commendation

The first component of this framework is commendation. By commendation, I mean finding thoughts, feelings, and behaviors that are in accord with scriptural wisdom and giving them attention. Quite honestly, commendation can be the most difficult of the elements with which to become competent. Often, we need to hunt through the muck and mire of obvious sin to find a small gem of Christlike behavior. Commendation also requires genuinely knowing the person in front of us in order that our words don’t come across as mere platitudes. Yet finding the praiseworthy in a situation can be key for both building confidence and bringing hope.

Jesus does this with the church of Ephesus when he says,

I know your works, your toil and your patient endurance, and how you cannot bear with those who are evil, but have tested those who call themselves apostles and are not, and found them to be false. I know you are enduring patiently and bearing up for my name’s sake, and you have not grown weary. (Revelation 2:2–3)

“Finding the praiseworthy in a situation can be key for both building confidence and bringing hope.”

Though Jesus will move on to tell the church what they need to correct, he takes a moment to commend them for what they have done well. Often, before others can hear constructive criticism, they need to know their situation isn’t hopeless, that they’ve been doing something — anything — right.

Mark Dever cautions that young pastors often lead with critique rather than encouragement when they first begin preaching — and the same is often true for young (or inexperienced) counselors. In many cases, we find it easier to sniff out what others are doing wrong than to identify what they are doing right, especially if they are turning to us in a time of failure. Yet in nearly every situation I’ve faced, I could find at least one quality to commend in my counselee. And typically, I find much, much more.

Comfort

The second component of this framework is comfort. By comfort, I mean finding appropriate words that bring peace, relief, and consolation. Comfort is especially fitting when we speak to the suffering, but even in situations where others need conviction, it is not uncommon that, without first receiving some amount of comfort, they will not be able to hear the conviction. In other words, rather than hearing the one thing we think they so desperately need, they will hear nothing at all.

Notice how Christ gives his suffering church in Philadelphia words of comfort:

Behold, I will make those of the synagogue of Satan who say that they are Jews and are not, but lie — behold, I will make them come and bow down before your feet, and they will learn that I have loved you. Because you have kept my word about patient endurance, I will keep you from the hour of trial that is coming on the whole world, to try those who dwell on the earth. (Revelation 3:9–10)

Before he exhorts them, he comforts them with the coming public recognition of his love for them and his promise that they will be spared a future trial.

Offering the comfort of God’s word requires genuinely understanding what is causing another person pain and applying God’s specific promises. The glorious assurance of Romans 8:28 will comfort many, yet some will need to know the comfort of fellowship — that not only they but the whole of creation groans with pain (Romans 8:22). Others will need the comfort of an active God of protection: “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31). Still others will need the comfort of a God of forgiveness, in whose Son there is no condemnation (Romans 8:1). And yet others will need the reassurance that their suffering is not in vain, and that “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Romans 8:18). All of this comfort comes from a single chapter of Scripture! And God has so much more to give.

“True Christian comfort combines sympathy and action, not settling for one without the other.”

The dark side of comfort is that it can become an all-too-comfortable trap. The willingness to endlessly sympathize and pacify without the ability to convict or challenge allows sin to fester, slowly choking out the desire for righteousness. True Christian comfort combines sympathy and action, not settling for one without the other.

Conviction

The third component of this framework is conviction. By conviction, I mean making others aware of how they have transgressed God’s law by their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors — either in the doing or the not doing.

Paul tells Timothy, “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness” (2 Timothy 3:16). Note the dual emphasis on reproof and correction. It is part of Scripture’s nature that it shows us where we have fallen short of God’s glory. Conviction rarely feels good; however, conviction need not be harsh. Paul describes his own ministry of conviction to the Ephesians with these words: “For three years I did not cease night or day to admonish every one with tears” (Acts 20:31). We would do well if kind, compassionate tears marked our ministry of conviction as well.

Jesus himself admonishes the Ephesians when he writes, “I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first” (Revelation 2:4). Here and elsewhere, he speaks earnestly to the churches and does not spare honest and difficult words for fear of hurting his hearers’ feelings. Indeed, what a gift that he would be so forthcoming!

As mentioned above, in all but two of the seven letters to the churches, Christ has some form of conviction to bring. Yet notice that he does not convict all of them: that in and of itself is instructive. Did those other two churches (Smyrna and Philadelphia) have no sin? Of course not. They were made up of sinners. Yet for his own reasons, Jesus felt no need to bring conviction there and then. Similarly, there are times when those we counsel do not need our conviction.

When do I prioritize conviction? When others are either unaware of their sin or are making excuses for it. In situations like these, I emphasize the unsurpassed goodness and mercy of God in his willingness to forgive (1 John 1:9), yet I also remind them that God’s forgiveness requires honest and earnest confession. As I often tell my counselees, one theme in Scripture is that he who repents first wins.

Challenge

The fourth component of this framework is challenge. By challenge, I mean helping others come up with a plan for how they can begin to think, feel, and act in harmony with their design according to Scripture.

Jesus does not leave the seven churches to fumble for a way forward. Rather, he exhorts them clearly — as when he tells those in Sardis, “Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God. Remember, then, what you received and heard. Keep it, and repent” (Revelation 3:2–3). Action words saturate this small section: wake up, strengthen, remember, keep, repent — a biblical battle plan if ever there were one!

A challenge helps others walk away with an action plan; it gives them some assurance that this week can be substantively different than the previous one. Nearly all of my counseling has some challenge at the end — a plan we devise in accord with Scripture about how we are going to move forward rather than spinning our wheels or moving backward. I have needed to learn over the years to have realistic expectations for these plans: often, growth happens gradually, one small step at a time. But without challenge, growth is far less likely to happen.

Four Doors to the Heart

Each of us will have greater facility with some of these elements than with others. We may find that we easily see where others are going astray and what they need to do; therefore, conviction and challenge come naturally. Others may be natural encouragers with strong compassion; thus, commendation and comfort come easily. We don’t want to fight our natural strengths; however, we do want to recognize the need for all four of these elements in our various relationships.

It’s easy to get stuck when we are trying to give good scriptural counsel, and sometimes that’s not the fault of the counselor. Before we walk off assured that others’ hard-heartedness is to blame, however, we can try reframing our counsel using one or more of the elements above. We may find that a door opens that allows us to speak truth into a heart that seemed all but locked just moments earlier.

http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/15426773/whether-present-or-absent-the-same-man

Suffering is largely a mystery to me.

While God’s grace and presence have been unimaginably rich in my pain, I still don’t understand why particular believers who love God endure loss after loss until they feel hopeless and confused, covered in darkness. I don’t understand why people who have not strayed from God’s path, but are looking to him in all things, feel defeated and dragged into the dust. I don’t understand why God’s people, whom he treasures and protects, are led like sheep to the slaughter.

And I’m not alone in my bewilderment. The Bible reiterates that the reasons for suffering can be mysterious and confusing, and from our vantage, incomprehensible. In the opening scene of the book of Job, for instance, we are taken into heaven and are witnesses to a dialogue between Satan and God. We realize from their interchange that there is much more happening in suffering than any of us can see, for sure in Job’s life but also in ours (Ephesians 6:12). God has his purposes, which are for both our good and his glory, though we may not understand them until heaven. Until then, we live with a seeming paradox: that God is both sovereign and good and yet his people can still suffer unthinkable loss, even when they are faithfully trusting him.

Psalm 44 reflects on a similar tension. We don’t know the circumstances surrounding its writing, but we do know that the Israelites felt abandoned by God. The psalmist speaks directly to God about their baffling pain in the face of his unparalleled power and past deliverance. He boldly cries out to God, pouring out his questions and doubts, trusting God enough to honestly come before him. It’s a psalm for those who trust God but have more questions than answers in suffering.

Not by Our Own Arm

The psalm begins with praise, acknowledging God’s goodness and faithfulness to his people in days of old. In verses 1–8, the psalmist declares that their ancestors flourished and defeated their enemies not because of their skill, but because of God’s intervention. God delighted in Israel and put their enemies to shame, and his people praised his name. It was all God’s doing, as verse 3 says:

Not by their own sword did they win the land, nor did their own arm save them, but your right hand and your arm, and the light of your face, for you delighted in them.

Then the psalmist reiterates his present faithfulness to God. He doesn’t trust in his own resources, in his sword and bow, but it is only through God that they can be victorious. And they will boast in God and give thanks to him forever.

But then the psalm takes a turn. In verses 9–16, the psalmist says that God was the one who had engineered their subsequent disgrace and defeat:

You have rejected us and disgraced us. . . . You have made us turn back from our foes. . . . You have made us like sheep for slaughter. . . . You have made us the taunt of our neighbors . . . a laughingstock among the peoples.

The Israelites recognized that their suffering came directly from God. They did not understand why it happened, but they knew where it came from. They understood that God forms light and creates darkness; he makes well-being and creates calamity (Isaiah 45:7). He acts and no one can turn it back.

Like Sheep to Be Slaughtered

In verses 17–22, the psalmist maintains that God’s actions were not because the Israelites had sinned. They had not forgotten God or worshiped idols or willfully disobeyed him, but rather were faithful and true to God’s covenant. Their hearts had not turned back, nor had their feet strayed from the path. And yet God still broke them.

Verse 22 is a final word defending their innocence and obedience: “Yet for your sake we are killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.” In other words, “We are trusting you, Lord, and we are dying for you. Rather than rescuing us, you are behind our earthly destruction.” That may be the cry of martyrs around the world today, who are proclaiming God’s love while being led to their death. And it may be the lament of faithful Christians who are struggling with terminal cancer, unending pain, and precipitous loss. Our lives are in God’s hands, and we are being crushed.

“God can never forget his people, for they are carved on the palms of his hands.”

This feels shocking. That God would willingly lead us as sheep to be slaughtered when we are faithfully serving him can make us wonder if he cares about us at all. Which makes it even more surprising that Paul would quote this verse in Romans 8:36, as an example of how we can never be separated from God’s love. The implication is that when we are at our lowest — feeling abandoned by God and growing increasingly hopeless — God is actually lavishing his love on us. He is making us more than conquerors in the place where we’ve been tasting bitter defeat and can’t sense his presence.

While we associate the times of abundance and success with God’s favor, Paul is reminding us that God’s love is as strong as ever when we are facing despair and even death. The psalmist mourned that God had rejected and crushed them, implying that God was against them, but Paul reframes that perspective for Christians, asserting that even in our darkest moments — especially in our darkest moments? — God is working for our good.

Who Can Be Against Us?

Paul’s direct reference to Psalm 44 demonstrates that when we feel God doesn’t care and is indifferent to the plight of the faithful, we’re dead wrong. God couldn’t be more for us.

The quote is sandwiched between Paul’s stunning declaration that, “If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:31–32), and his magnificent proclamation that we are more than conquerors through him who loved us because nothing in all creation can separate us from God’s love (Romans 8:37–39).

We may live with lingering questions about our suffering. Many questions may go unanswered, particularly the haunting question of Why? We can trust that God has reasons (perhaps ten thousand reasons), although we may not see or understand many of them in this life. But the overarching reason lies in the glorious truth of Romans 8:31–39. While we may see only in part now, we can trust that all that God does is out of his incomparable and unfathomable love for us.

Our Great Hope in the Valley

The psalmist concludes by directly asking God for help, saying, “Awake! Why are you sleeping, O Lord? Rouse yourself!” (Psalm 44:23). When Jesus was asleep in a boat amidst a perilous storm, the disciples wondered if he cared about them. After Jesus calmed the storm, he asked them why they’d been afraid (Mark 4:35–41). Jesus knew exactly what was happening. But like the disciples, when God isn’t acting, we may wonder if he doesn’t know or doesn’t care, both of which are impossible.

“When God isn’t acting, we may wonder if he doesn’t know or doesn’t care, both of which are impossible.”

The psalmist then exclaims, “Why do you hide your face? Why do you forget our affliction and oppression?” (Psalm 44:24). Those are the questions we ask God. Why can’t we see his face? Why isn’t he doing anything about what is happening? We can feel the agony of the psalmist on behalf of those who feel abandoned, lying prostrate in the dust. Yet the reassuring truth is that God can never forget his people, for they are carved on the palms of his hands (Isaiah 49:16).

Psalm 44 closes with this plea: “Rise up; come to our help! Redeem us for the sake of your steadfast love!” (Psalm 44:26). He is appealing to God for rescue, not based on their own faithfulness, but on the character of God and his unfailing love. As we see in Romans 8, it all comes back to God’s love.

This psalm is a beautiful lament for those of us who wonder where God is in our suffering. God is the one who has helped us in the past, and God is the one who is letting us suffer now. Yet as Paul weaves Psalm 44:22 into Romans 8, we see that God is pouring out his love for us even as we are being led as sheep to the slaughter. God bids us to cry out to him, voicing our questions and detailing our anguish, while trusting in his steadfast love — even, and perhaps especially, in the face of suffering that doesn’t make sense.

Audio Transcript

Good Monday morning, and welcome to a new week on the podcast — to a week we are devoting to the theme of knowing and following God’s will. Today we look at the key to it all. Without this key in place, following God’s will will be impossible. Then on Wednesday we look at an example of how one man proceeded with confidence in a real-life decision, knowing he was following God’s will. It’s a great story, and it’s on Wednesday (in APJ 1808). And then we will end this week hearing from a super busy Christian man. How does he prioritize his life when he cannot get everything done? That’s on Friday (in APJ 1809).

So, we start the week talking about the key to knowing and following God’s will. We’ll get there through a Bible question from a listener named Kyle. “Hello, Pastor John! In Colossians 1:9, Paul uses the terms ‘knowledge,’ ‘wisdom,’ and ‘understanding.’ Do these terms each have a different meaning? How do these three words relate to each other in the context of that passage?”

Yes, I think they do have different meanings, and I think there’s a practical usefulness in trying to understand the differences. But it’s good to keep in mind — as I step back and just let myself think about the difficulties of handling words like this — that, the way the human mind works and the way language works, it would be a mistake to think that words like knowledge (or knowing), wisdom, understanding are so precise that they don’t overlap with each other. They do overlap.

Borders Between Words

The borders between words like knowledge and wisdom and understanding are not like walls, not like fences that are real nice and clear and precise, with one field on one side and one field on the other. They’re more like the space where the fresh water of a river flows into the salt sea. You can’t draw a line between fresh water and salt water, but everybody knows there’s a huge difference between fresh water and salt water.

Words that refer to processes of knowing and words that refer to processes of feeling are inevitably more flexible and more imprecise than words that refer to objects, like dog or daffodil or peach. Acts of knowing and feeling are not like a dog or a daffodil or a peach. You can’t see them; you can’t touch them; you can’t hear them; you can’t smell them; you can’t draw them. How would you draw wisdom? How would you draw understanding? You can’t point to them with your finger; they’re a peculiar kind of reality. And so, when language tries to capture them or give expression to that peculiar kind of reality, we have to leave room for some overlap in meaning. So, that’s a preface to how difficult it is sometimes to do what Kyle is asking me to do.

Knowledge, Wisdom, Understanding

Colossians 1:9–10 says,

From the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge [that’s the first word, epignōsis in Greek] of his will in all spiritual wisdom [second word, sophia] and understanding [synesis, sometimes translated ‘insight’], so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God [same word, epignōsis].

So, Paul starts by praying that they would be filled with the knowledge of God’s will, and he ends that prayer by praying that they would go on increasing in the knowledge of God himself.

“Knowing God increasingly and knowing God’s will increasingly are part of the same experience of knowing.”

I think in Paul’s mind, knowing God increasingly and knowing God’s will increasingly are part of the same experience of knowing, because to know somebody, when you think about it, is to know what they love, know what they hate, know what they desire, know what they will. That’s what it means to know them.

Knowing Versus Knowing

But to really grasp what Paul means by knowing God, which I think we must do here at the outset, it helps to look at Romans 1:18–23, where Paul talks about people who are outside Christ and yet have some kind of knowing of God. It says,

By their unrighteousness [they] suppress the truth. For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So, they are without excuse. For [this is the amazing part] although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him.

It’s an amazing statement: “although they knew God” — every human being outside Christ. So, there is a kind of knowing God that is absolutely useless — indeed, worse than useless. It makes you guilty. It takes away your excuse. This is not the kind of knowing God or knowing his will that Paul is praying for in Colossians 1:9. That’s not what he’s praying for. So, the question is, What’s missing? What’s the difference between the knowing God and knowing his will that he’s praying for and the knowing that will only get you damned?

What’s missing is precisely what Paul is praying for in Colossians 1:9 — namely, that we would come to know God and know his will in or by spiritual wisdom and spiritual understanding. The word spiritual modifies both of those nouns — “spiritual wisdom and spiritual understanding.” The key word is spiritual, which in Paul’s language refers to something that is given by and formed by the Holy Spirit. It’s not just a vague feeling of mysticism or something like that. It’s a Holy Spirit–given, a Holy Spirit–shaped wisdom and understanding.

So, what needs to happen so that the man of Romans 1 knows God — the way Paul is praying for us to know God and his will in Colossians 1:9 — is for the Holy Spirit to take away his blindness to the greatness and the beauty and worth of God. And we can watch this happen in 2 Corinthians 4:6, where Paul says, “God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” So, the formerly blind man of Romans 1 now sees God as glorious. A few verses earlier, in 2 Corinthians 3:18, Paul had said in describing this very miracle, “This comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.”

So, this miracle of seeing God for what he really is, is what Paul means in Colossians 1:9 by “spiritual insight” or “spiritual understanding.” When the Holy Spirit removes our blindness, we don’t just know God as Romans 1 knows God — disapproving, suppressing. We know him as glorious, as infinitely valuable, as worthy of all our allegiance and trust and love. This is spiritual understanding to know him like that.

Harmonious Wisdom

Now, to stir in the word wisdom — and specifically “spiritual wisdom” — from Colossians 1:9, let’s go back to Romans 1, because Paul does just that; he stirs in the word wisdom.

He’s been describing the unbelieving person as knowing God and yet suppressing that knowledge and failing to thank God and glorify him, and now he describes the same failure in terms of foolishness and pretended wisdom. He says, “They became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools.” And then they do something that tells you what wisdom is all about: “[They] exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man” (Romans 1:21–23).

“Spirit-given understanding of the true worth of God leads to Spirit-given wisdom.”

So, in Paul’s mind, wisdom and foolishness relate not merely to whether we see things clearly, but whether we make choices or experience preferences that fit reality. If the darkened heart is not illumined by spiritual understanding, then the heart will act foolishly and make the absurd exchange of Romans 1:23, trading away God for something he made. That’s foolish. That’s crazy. And that’s what the lack of wisdom does. Spiritual wisdom would never do that. Spirit-given understanding of the true worth of God leads to Spirit-given wisdom in not making absurd choices that involve treating other things as more valuable than God.

Knowledge of His Will

So, in answer to Kyle’s question, one way to describe the difference between spiritual wisdom and spiritual understanding is that spiritual understanding is the work of the Spirit enabling us to see reality (particularly God and his ways, his will) for what they really are — namely, great and beautiful and valuable and wise — while spiritual wisdom is the effect of that spiritual understanding upon the way we evaluate things, the way we experience preferences in our preferring heart, and the way we make choices that accord with (or not), that are in harmony with (or not), reality and are not the result of our former blindness.

So, when Paul prays in Colossians 1:9 that we would be “filled with the knowledge of his will in [or by] all spiritual wisdom and [spiritual] understanding,” he’s asking God to pour out his Holy Spirit upon us, and that more and more the Spirit would remove our blindness and the dimness of our ability to see God for who he really is. Then, as a fruit of that spiritual understanding, we would have spiritual wisdom that experiences preferences and makes choices that are in harmony with reality. And then, when those two are operating the way they should, we will be filled with the knowledge of God’s will for our daily lives.

As Christians face the fragmenting of some churches, denominations, and movements, many have turned to the concept of “theological triage” to help navigate the turbulent waters of doctrinal disagreement.

In a recent article, Scott Hubbard ably distills theological triage, drawing the basic category from Al Mohler and then using Gavin Ortlund’s book to distinguish four ranks or tiers of doctrinal difference:

First-rank doctrines are essential to the gospel itself.
Second-rank doctrines are urgent for the health and practice of the church such that they frequently cause Christians to separate at the level of local church, denomination, and/or ministry.
Third-rank doctrines are important to Christian theology but not enough to justify separation or division among Christians.
Fourth-rank doctrines are unimportant to our gospel witness and ministry collaboration. (Finding the Right Hills to Die On, 19)

Finally, Hubbard draws on Rhyne Putnam for three tests to aid in our discernment process:

The hermeneutical test: the clearer the Bible teaches a doctrine, the more likely it belongs on a higher tier.
The gospel test: the more central a doctrine is to the gospel, the more likely it belongs on a higher tier.
The praxis test: the more a doctrine affects the practice of a church, the more likely it belongs on a higher tier.

This basic framework is helpful. Still, it frequently leaves us with a puzzle concerning the second-tier issues. In most contemporary uses of theological triage, differences over baptism and differences over manhood and womanhood are both regarded as second-tier issues. In actual practice, however, there seems to be a substantive difference between these two issues. Organizations and conferences like The Gospel Coalition and Together For the Gospel treat these two issues differently. In both cases, baptismal differences are not regarded as barriers to participation, whereas differences over manhood and womanhood are. What might account for this difference (and others like it)?

Theoretical Triage: Thinking About the Body

I believe that further refinement of theological triage can clarify why we would treat certain second-tier disagreements differently than others. (Note: this refinement focuses on the theoretical side of triage. In application to any particular situation, there will be critical concrete and practical considerations in play as well.)

The language of triage is drawn from the field of emergency medicine. In keeping with this imagery, we can consider how we assess the life, health, and practice of the physical body, as an analogy for assessing the life, health, and practice of the body of Christ. (In principle, this same analogy could be used to assess the doctrinal health of an individual as well; for simplicity’s sake, we’ll focus on the church as a body.)

In doctrinal terms, certain doctrines (first tier) are essential for the life of the church. If you deny such a doctrine, you lack life; you’re outside the Christian faith. Other doctrines (second tier) are essential for the health of the church. If you deny such a doctrine, it doesn’t mean you’re spiritually dead, but instead that you’re spiritually sick. Finally, some doctrines (third tier) are essential for the practice of the church. These are matters which don’t directly bear on life or health but do relate closely to how we order and structure our churches, and thus there is need for significant alignment on these matters among members of a given church.

First Tier: Are You Alive?

Thinking in terms of bodily life, health, and practice enables us to identify why certain doctrines are “of first importance” (1 Corinthians 15:3). Paul uses that phrase to refer to the gospel by which we are being saved, if we hold fast to it. He refers specifically to Christ’s death for sin, as well as the historicity of his burial, resurrection, and subsequent appearances. To falter on such gospel truths is to “believe in vain.”

Thus, first-tier issues are matters of gospel significance. Manifest errors on or denials of such fundamental doctrines places one outside the Christian faith. We often summarize the basic gospel in terms of either God-Sin-Christ-Faith or Creation-Fall-Redemption-New Creation. Both of these reveal the foundational doctrines to be embraced and confessed in order to be Christian. The doctrine of the Trinity, the deity and humanity of Christ, his work on the cross and in the resurrection, and salvation by grace through faith are generally regarded as first-tier issues. To deny such doctrines is to fall short of the Christian faith completely.

However, often overlooked in our discussions of gospel issues are fundamental errors on the nature of creation, humanity, and sin. Such issues of anthropology (what C.S. Lewis referred to as the Tao, or the moral order of the universe recognized by all people) could also fall into the first-tier category. Paul explicitly says this when he mentions that “Christ died for our sins” as a matter of first importance. Similarly, the Bible points in this direction whenever it makes clear and manifest violations of the moral law grounds for excommunication from the church and exclusion from the kingdom (1 Corinthians 5–6; Galatians 5:22–23). These moral issues are not merely a matter of special revelation, but are universally known and binding through general revelation in creation and conscience.

But not only do such immoral practices place one outside the kingdom, but affirming and leading others to practice such things makes one a false teacher. Fundamental errors on the goodness of creation and the nature of marriage are treated as demonic teaching and departures from the faith (1 Timothy 4:1–5). The Bible condemns both those who accumulate such teachers to suit their own passions, as well as the teachers themselves (2 Timothy 4:3–4; 2 Timothy 3:6–9). Such people are disqualified from the faith and wander away into myths. And Paul’s condemnation of human sinfulness in Romans 1 not only pronounces judgment on those who practice what ought not to be done, but also those who “give approval to those who practice them” (Romans 1:32).

This means, in addition to the Trinity, Christology, and soteriology, fundamental errors about God’s good design in creation, about the basic nature of humanity, and about the identification of sin and violations of God’s moral law ought to be regarded as first-tier issues. Put more simply, some denials of natural revelation place one outside the kingdom.

Second Tier: Are You Healthy?

Moving down a tier, other doctrines are essential for the body’s health. In fact, the Bible frequently speaks of “sound doctrine,” that is, healthy doctrine. And this is where the use of the body metaphor further refines our framework. Health is not simply an on-off switch; rather health is a spectrum and allows for a range of injuries, illnesses, and diseases. In particular, it allows us to distinguish second-tier errors by relative seriousness, by internal spread, and by transmissibility.

First, consider the relative seriousness of certain errors. Some doctrinal errors are the equivalent of a broken pinkie finger; the body is not fully healthy, but the injury is relatively minor. On the other hand, a broken femur or spine is potentially life-threatening.

Second, consider also diseases and illnesses that spread throughout the body and cause one’s health to deteriorate over time. Some errors, like the broken finger, are relatively isolated; it has little bearing on the rest of the body. Other errors, like cancer, spread throughout the body and are life-threatening.

Third, consider the transmissibility of the illness. Neither broken bones nor cancer is contagious. But colds, flu, and other diseases are. As Paul says, some teaching spreads like gangrene throughout the corporate body (2 Timothy 2:17). Or, to shift to one of our Lord’s metaphors, some teaching is like leaven which spreads throughout the whole loaf (Matthew 16:6–12; cf. 1 Corinthians 5:6–8; Galatians 5:9).

We can bring these three features together in a variety of ways. Some errors are like the common cold; they may be contagious, but they are minor. Others are like Ebola: highly contagious and deadly. Thus, it’s not enough to simply identify a doctrine as second-order; we must also triage the seriousness of the error, its growth and tendency to foster further error, and its potential to spread to others.

Frequently the deadly doctrines identified in the first-tier have milder counterparts at the second-tier. Thus, certain modifications to the doctrine of the Trinity, while not in themselves fatal, nevertheless have a tendency to erode the doctrine over time and produce bodily illness. The same would be true for certain imprecisions and errors in Christology. And while full-blown Pelagianism is fundamentally in contradiction to salvation by grace through faith, various forms of semi-Pelagianism make the body ill. In contrast to outright doctrinal denial, we might think of this as doctrinal erosion.

“The inspiration, authority, and inerrancy of the Scriptures functions as an immune system that helps the body fight off infection.”

Additionally, we should consider how certain errors compromise the immune system. Initially the error might not have much direct effect on the body’s health. However, by weakening the immune system, such error turns minor colds into deadly illnesses. Denial of the Bible’s authority and trustworthiness is the most obvious candidate for compromising the immune system. As Paul notes in 1 Corinthians 15, all of the fundamental gospel truths are “according to the Scriptures.” Thus, the inspiration, authority, and inerrancy of the Scriptures act as guard-rails for other doctrines; Scripture functions as an immune system that helps the body to fight off infection.

Third Tier: What’s Your Diet?

Finally, certain doctrinal issues require agreement for practical purposes. Differences on such questions may not be straightforward matters of life or health, but simply matters of practice: for the community to function well, we will need practical alignment on these issues. We might think of these issues as differences in diet or workout regimen. Healthy people may differ on such questions and still be healthy. Many issues of church structure, liturgy, and ministry philosophy would fall into this category. As matters of wisdom and prudence, faithful Christians will differ, and even have distinct and separate churches or denominations, without regarding each other as dead or even sick.

Taking Our Vitals

With this refinement in hand, we can now return to the puzzle with which we began. If baptismal differences and differences on manhood and womanhood are both “second-tier,” are we warranted in treating them differently? The category of bodily health helps us to see why we not only may do so, but ought to do so.

Baptismal differences do matter. As a practical matter, a church will either baptize infants or not. And the differences do have some bearing on how we view the visible church. Nevertheless, such differences, in principle, can be isolated from the fundamental doctrines of the faith. Many paedobaptists and credobaptists frequently find themselves in near total agreement on the substance of the fundamental doctrines of the faith. Thus, it is no surprise that, armed with such substantial agreement, such paedobaptists and credobaptists have found themselves “together for the gospel.”

Differences over manhood and womanhood, however, are a different matter. Such differences are directly related to the doctrine of creation, the doctrine of man, and the doctrine of sin. Thus, errors on this doctrine have a greater seriousness.

Additionally, such anthropological error tends to grow over time, especially in the midst of a culture that is fundamentally confused about what it means to be human and hostile to God’s design in creation. Like gangrene, contemporary egalitarianism grows and spreads and leads to greater and more deadly error. The frequent move from egalitarianism to the affirmation and celebration of homosexuality is not so much a slippery slope, but simply what cancer does when left untreated. Tao-erosion frequently leads to Tao-denial.

“Errors on the Bible’s teaching on manhood and womanhood often compromise the body’s immune system.”

Finally, errors on this doctrine are frequently based on interpretive moves that functionally mute certain passages of Scripture and thereby gut the Bible of its authority. Thus, errors on the Bible’s teaching on manhood and womanhood often compromise the body’s immune system. Rather than being the standard by which our beliefs and practices are measured and corrected, the Bible becomes a wax nose that is twisted and put in service to our own passions and desires.

More To Be Said

There are many more issues to consider when engaging in theological triage. I have attempted one refinement to the theoretical framework by which we triage. In actual practice, many other considerations come into play: How pervasive is the error in your church? How influential are those promoting it? Are you dealing with false teachers or confused sheep? What are the particular pressures in your local context?

All of these questions (and more) need to be considered by a team of sober-minded elders as they seek to shepherd their particular flock. Nevertheless, finding clarity on the rationale for first-tier issues, while recognizing the spectrum of health within second-tier issues, will give us a better tool with which to perform the crucial task of teaching, correcting, rebuking, and training in righteousness.

http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/15422374/paul-used-his-life-to-lift-burdens

Ofttimes the primary reason why godly men are called to suffer is for the sake of witness they may give to the sincerity of their love for Christ and the reality of divine grace in them.

There is a deep mystery to suffering. While the Bible makes it plain that we must expect to encounter times of sorrow and loss, of trial and grief, we often don’t know why these times come. Though we know he is weaving together a marvelous tapestry that will wondrously display his glory, we also know it is one whose beauty we will fully appreciate only when faith becomes sight.

It was in the waning weeks of 2020 that my family faced our darkest hour, for it was then that the heart of my 20-year-old son Nick suddenly and unexpectedly stopped, and he went to be with the Lord. One moment he was a seminarian leading some fellow students in a game, and the next he was in heaven. His departure shocked us, devastated us, and left us wondering why. Why would God choose this for us, and why would God choose us for this?

“Why would God choose this for us, and why would God choose us for this?”

In the aftermath of that dreadful evening, I turned to some of my dearest friends, friends who lived and died many years ago, but whom I’ve come to know through the books and sermons they left behind. If a multitude of advisers is necessary for planning well, how much more for grieving well (Proverbs 15:22)? In the most difficult days and darkest hours, they counseled and consoled me.

Suffering as Witness

Theodore Cuyler was a close and steady companion who encouraged me to accept that God always places bright blessings behind the dark clouds of his providence. F.B. Meyer assured me that peace would come through submission to God’s will, and that I should trust him in the taking as much as I had in the giving. But it was in the words of the old preacher J.R. Miller that I found one piece of wisdom that especially helped quiet my heart and direct my path.

Ofttimes the primary reason why godly men are called to suffer is for the sake of witness they may give to the sincerity of their love for Christ and the reality of divine grace in them. The world sneers at religious profession. It refuses to believe that it is genuine. It defiantly asserts that what is called Christian principle is only selfishness, and that it would not stand severe testing. Then, godly men are called to endure loss, suffering or sorrow, not because there is any particular evil in themselves which needs to be eradicated, but because the Master needs their witness to answer the sneers of the world. (“The Ministry of Comfort”)

In every age, we hear of professed believers who abandon the faith as soon as they are called to suffer. They are glad enough to express confidence in God as long as his will seems perfectly aligned with their own, as long as his providence decrees what they would choose anyway. But when they are called to lose instead of gain, to weep instead of laugh, to face poverty instead of prosperity, they quickly turn aside and fall away (Matthew 13:20–21). Like towers built on sand, many who stand strong in days of calm collapse in days of flood (Matthew 7:26–27).

No wonder, then, that many unbelievers become convinced that the Christian faith is unequal to great challenges, that Christians will adhere to Christ only while life is easy and circumstances favorable. No wonder, then, that skeptics scoff since they have observed many whose faith was no stronger than its first great challenge. And no wonder, then, that even many sincere believers wonder whether their faith is sufficient for times of deep sorrow, whether it could withstand a dreadful shock.

It is just here that Miller’s word have been both comforting and challenging.

What the World Needs to See

In times of great sorrow, we naturally long for answers. We long to know why a God who is good and who loves us so dearly has decreed such a painful providence. Miller comforted me with the assurance that we do not need to assume that God is punishing us for sin we have committed or chastising for righteousness we have failed to accomplish. We do not need to believe that these circumstances somehow escaped his notice and darted past his control. We do not need to wonder whether it is all just meaningless and purposeless, as if “all things work together for good” except for grueling losses.

No, we can be confident that God has important purposes for our suffering, and we can be equally confident that one of these purposes is simply for us to stand strong, to continue to profess our allegiance to him. If Paul could say that his imprisonment “has really served to advance the gospel,” why shouldn’t we say the same of our bereavements (Philippians 1:12)?

Unbelievers and Christians alike need the assurance that our faith does not depend upon God delivering only what we ourselves would choose and that our love for God does not depend upon circumstances that never contradict our desires. Unbelievers and Christians alike need to be shown that God’s people will be as true to him with little as with much, with broken hearts as with whole, with empty hands as with full. All need to be shown that those who blessed God in the giving will praise him still in the taking, that those who weep tears of sorrow will still raise hands of worship, that those who trust him in the green pastures will trust him still when he leads through dark valleys. And this is precisely what my dear friend J.R. Miller called me to.

Still Good in the Valley

By God’s grace, I can profess from the valley of the shadow of death that my Shepherd is good. I can attest from a place of deep sorrow that God is providing sweet comfort. I can proclaim that while my heart is broken, my faith is intact. I can affirm that a love for God formed in days of sunshine truly can withstand days of rain. So, too, can my wife and my daughters.

“From the first moment of that first night of our sorrow, God has been present and kind, faithful and good.”

There has not been the smallest bit of coercion or the least measure of performance. There has been no need. For together we have learned that while our strength is small, God’s is great. While our hold on him is weak, his grasp on us is strong. While we would certainly be insufficient to this challenge, God has given what we need. The steadfast love of the Lord has not ceased; his mercies have not come to an end, but have been new every morning. Great has been his faithfulness (Lamentations 3:22–23).

We don’t know all the reasons why God chose to take Nick to himself at such a young age, but neither do we have any right to demand answers from our God or to insist that he account for his providence. Our confidence rests not in his explanation but in his character, not in what he has done but in who he is — the one who knows “the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose’” (Isaiah 46:10).

And from the first moment of that first night of our sorrow, he has been present and kind, faithful and good. He has been true to his every promise. We love him more now than ever.