We are made perfect in holiness at death. It is a freeing mercy without compare. All the pleasures of this life are nothing to that moment when the cleansing power of the Holy Spirit is complete. It is not a selfish thing to desire that beautiful blessing which we have in Christ. We all experience the corruption brought about by Adam’s sin, both in our spirit in regards to the fight we have with the old man in sin, and in our body as we watch it break down and deal with disparate disease and the realities of old age and overuse. Death frees us from this, and because of who we are in Christ our comfort is that all the physical/spiritual trials we face are temporary.

Today’s catechism lesson gets us into the nitty gritty of life. What happens when we die? More importantly what happens to our faith when we die? Well the good news is that nothing happens to our faith in fact it actually improves and becomes perfect. But what about our bodies? Even better news there. According to this morning’s Shorter Catechism answer to question 37 our physical bodies, the stuff you can pinch right now, remains united to Christ just as it is while you are alive. Without getting into the mechanics of that (philosophers love to waste time on how the spiritual works when adoration and thanksgiving are the more proper responses) the reality is we will all die, unless the Lord returns first, but even in the case of the eschaton’s arrival (which I don’t think will be for a while) the same truth is our peace and comfort. We belong body and soul to our Redeemer and there is nothing that can take that away from us, even death itself. It may be the separation of the soul from the body, but nothing can ever separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ. So let’s get into the questions:
Q. 37. What Benefits Do Believers Receive From Christ at His Death?
A. The souls of believers are at their death made perfect in holiness, and do immediately pass into glory; and their bodies, being still united to Christ, do rest in their gravest till the resurrection.
Q. 38. What Benefits Do Believers Receive from Christ at the Resurrection?
A. At the resurrection, believers being raised up in glory, shall be openly acknowledged and acquitted in the day of judgment, and made.
This section of the catechism is continuing to work through what it calls the “benefits” that believers receive from Christ. We’ve read about effectual calling, justification, sanctification, adoption, and now are hearing a bit on the eternal blessings which come from faith. As noted above there is a sense in which when we get down to the brass tacks of why we do what we do in the Christian life it’s less because of the right now and more about the not yet. Our Lord Jesus came to die so that we would live. It makes sense then that the culmination of the Westminster Divines writing on salvation would focus on what takes place when we leave this mortal coil.
The era in which our catechism was written was full of death. While not a member of the Assembly, a Puritan contemporary John Owen lost eleven children before the age of maturity, most as infants. He had one daughter survive to adulthood.
Read More

This little story makes a wreck of my theological assumptions. Now, don’t get me wrong. They aren’t entirely wrong. Jesus’ having sought her out is significant. It shows us that He’s more concerned with relationship than a transactional healing. He’s not a distant and detached Savior. As James Edwards as said, “Discipleship is not simply getting our needs met; it is being in the presence of Jesus, being known by him, and following him.” (Edwards, Mark, 165). 

God isn’t a genie. He’s not some passive deity who responds to our every whim—dispensing answers to our deepest wishes. He’s not a cosmic vending machine where we put in our quarters, hit the correct button, and then enjoy the soda or candy bar we purchased.
I carry that theology with me into Mark 5.
Jairus, he’s my dude. He does it correctly. He has a desperate need, he makes a passionate request, falling at his needs and imploring Jesus to act. That’s not treating Jesus like a vending machine. It’s treating Him like the sovereign He is.
And Jesus, no doubt impressed by this dude’s faith and respect, goes along with Jairus to provide healing for his daughter. But he’s interrupted by this great crowd.
Mark stops his story about Jairus to tell us about one of those in the crowd. It’s a woman who is as desperate as Jairus. But that’s about all they have in common. They are on different ends of the social, religious, and economic ladder. Jairus is a powerful dude. She’s simply “a woman”…a woman that is ritually unclean, filled with shame, slinking in the shadows, and flat broke with a massive pile of medical bills.
The Bleeding Woman’s Theology
What she does next shows how sharply her theology diverges from mine. Mark tells us that she comes up behind him (a sneak attack) and touched his garment. And then Mark exposes her horrible theology, “If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.”
That’s magical and superstitious thinking. Vending machine theology. She has Jesus in an entirely passive role. She doesn’t care about relationship. She isn’t even acknowledging him. Her love of Jesus seems about as profound as my love for the outlet I found when my phone’s batter is at 1%. It’s entirely transactional.
But it works. I’m not sure why Mark tells us this.
Read More
Related Posts:

The reason we must be patient with other Christians, according to Paul, is love. In 1 Thessalonians 5:14, he grounds his command to long-suffering in the terms of family affection, identifying the believers as “brothers and sisters.” In the church, we are not mere acquaintances, or even fellow members of the same club; we are family. In the church, Christ’s love for us compels us to love one another (John 13:34).

One by one, each of my children learned a catechism question that asks, “Have you a soul as well as a body?” And the answer, as it slowly and deliberately arose from tiny toddler lips, always tugged at my heart: “Yes, and my soul will never die.”
Though designed for children, this question and answer trained me as a parent. Whatever frustrations the child had caused me that day — spilled milk, broken toys, incessant questions, delayed naps — couldn’t continue to annoy me when I stopped to remember that the small person in front of me possessed an undying soul.
We become impatient with others when we fail to see that they have significant and lasting value. When they interrupt us, dawdle over their own responsibilities, or require more time and energy than we had planned to allow them, we start to consider them inconveniences. We become so focused on their behaviors in the moment that we don’t consider their value in eternity.
And when we fail to recognize other people as eternally important, we will not love them well. In Paul’s famous love chapter, he begins his list of love’s qualities with this simple declaration: “Love is patient” (1 Corinthians 13:4). In order to love someone, we must value that person’s undying soul more than we value our own temporary convenience.
God Is Patient
This, of course, is how God loves. In his second epistle, Peter writes,
Beloved . . . the Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance. (2 Peter 3:8–9)
It seems that some of the members of the first-century church were becoming impatient — with God. Why hadn’t Jesus returned? Why weren’t their persecutors being judged? Why weren’t God’s promises fulfilled immediately? Why was God being so slow? Because, Peter explained, God cares about souls. God knows, much more than we do, the horrors of hell. He knows the dreadful extent of his own wrath. And he wants people to be saved.
God, who could justly destroy the earth at any moment, has chosen to wait. He is “the Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (Exodus 34:6). He is not bothered by the passing of time — by the minutes and years and millennia that are ticking away — if it means that people will be eternally saved.
In his saving purposes for his elect people, God doesn’t measure time the way we do: “With the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years is as one day” (2 Peter 3:8). Unlike us, God isn’t focused on the clock.
Read More
Related Posts: