Point to His Faithfulness
Your faith may be small, but His faithfulness is great. Yes, your sin may be great, but His grace is greater. Our God is the faithful One, and may we continue to put our hope in Him.
“I’m just not sure I’m saved.”
He said this as he looked at me from across the coffee shop table. Now, I didn’t want to have more assurance that he did, but I had a sneaky feeling that something wasn’t right. This was a guy that had been diligent in the word, seemed to be growing like a weed, and seemed to really love Christ. So I was surprised when he said it. I said, “Well, do you believe that Christ died for your sins, and that He rose from the dead?” “Yes, I do.”
“Do you!?” I said in an embarrassingly loud voice for a coffee shop.
“Yes, I really do,” he said with more conviction. “Well let me read a verse to you. ‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.’ What does that verse say about ‘whoever believes’?” I could see the relief flood over his face. He was realizing what I was trying to point out: Because God is faithful, he could be secure.
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God Not Only Created the World, He (Still) Holds It Together
In a Christian worldview, the creation is more miraculous than mechanical, more enchanted than we often realize. Of course, the world is orderly and works according to identifiable and predictable laws. And yet, as Paul wrote to the Colossians, it is graciously and lovingly held together just as it was brought into being, by the very Word of God. To learn more about the implications of God’s intimate, active role in creating and sustaining His world, see the new book by Dr. Edward Klink, The Beginning and End of All Things: A Biblical Theology of Creation and New Creation.
The familiar opening line of Genesis, that “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth,” introduces a simple but profound idea. Everything that exists, visible and invisible, was created by God. If true, the world is infused with purpose and design. Life is not random but ordered. There are givens in creation and about the human condition to which we must conform.
And yet, as significant as these implications are, there is much more to the doctrine of creation than “God created.” Other passages throughout Scripture, for example John 1 and Colossians 1, claim that God’s creative work is not confined to the distant past. Rather, God remains present, involved, and sovereign over and in His creation. Specifically, it is in and through Christ that God remains present, involved, and sovereign over and in His creation.
In Colossians 1:16-17, Paul wrote that it was by Christ, the “image of the invisible God and firstborn of all creation, that “all things were created.” And “in Him, all things hold together” (emphasis added). In other words, God is more than a first cause. He not only created the world; He sustains it.
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Martin Luther on Preparing to Die
The most important thing to do is focus our attention on the perfect sacrifice and righteousness of Christ and grasp the certainty of salvation that we have in Him. This can be done through prayerfully using the ordinary means of grace that the Lord has given His people to help them live and therefore to help them die as well
A few years ago, I received this unexpected request from one of my church members with multiple sclerosis: “When you have time, could you please do a Bible study on how to prepare for death?” This person knew that her condition was incurable and, although death still seemed a fairly long way off, she was anxious to receive advice on how to face it. I was taken aback by that request, but I should not have been. This was a very sensible idea. Why wouldn’t every church member be interested in such a Bible study? Yet, I could not remember the last time I preached or heard a sermon on that topic. The Bible is very upfront about the reality of death but also very clear that it is possible to die well. It is perhaps significant that one of the best-known Hebrew words in the Old Testament, the word shalom, which we associate with peace and well-being, first appears in the context of death (Gen. 15:15). Knowing how we may die “in peace” should be an important concern for us all.
As I reflected on this, I was struck again about how common that theme was in Christian sermons and devotional literature until about two hundred years ago. Toward the end of the nineteenth century, decisive breakthroughs in medical research, such as the discovery of germs and anesthetics, made death and pain feel more distant. For the first time in history, being healthy became the norm and being ill the exception. For most people in history, death was an ever-present companion. John Calvin, for example, gives a vivid description of how precarious life felt in his time:
Innumerable are the ills which beset human life, and present death in as many different forms. Not to go beyond ourselves, since the body is a receptacle, even the nurse, of a thousand diseases, a man cannot move without carrying along with him many forms of destruction…Then, in what direction soever you turn, all surrounding objects not only may do harm, but almost openly threaten and seem to present immediate death. Go on board a ship, you are but a plank’s breadth from death. Mount a horse, the stumbling of a foot endangers your life. Walk along the streets, every tile upon the roofs is a source of danger…I say nothing of poison, treachery, robbery, some of which beset us at home, others follow us abroad.1
It is therefore not surprising that Christians felt the need to be trained in the ars moriendi (art of dying). In fact, the idea that the whole of life is a preparation to die was commonplace. As events in the world sometimes bring death considerably closer to us, I believe it is urgent for the church to recover the Christian ars moriendi. What we need in particular is not so much rehearsing general theological truths about death but precisely what that church member asked me: some practical advice on how to prepare ourselves for it. The Protestant Reformers and seventeenth-century Puritans can help us with this because they knew how to face death and how to think about it in concrete terms. They wrote a great deal on the topic but, for the sake of brevity, I will focus on Martin Luther, whose teaching on the matter sums up the Protestant ars moriendi.2
Luther’s view of the Christian life is attractive because of its concrete character. Luther was not simply a theologian of more abstract concepts such as justification but a pastor who preached and wrote to human beings of flesh and blood facing much hardship and who were never far away from death. Luther himself, like his contemporaries, did not expect to live for very long, and he thought he would soon die from illness or martyrdom. It is therefore not surprising that he preached and wrote about death throughout his life. As early as 1519, when he was only thirty-six, he wrote a series of exhortations for his sovereign, Elector Frederick the Wise, who was seriously ill.3 In that same year, he preached a famous sermon on preparing to die, and he no doubt preached many times on the subject. Practical considerations about dying are spread through his writings. We also have fairly precise information about Luther’s last days and his own death that allows us to know that he put into practice what he preached.
Luther can help us because he teaches us how to think properly about death both throughout our lives and when it is near. His insights can be summed up under four headings.
Be Confident but Realistic
First, Luther recognizes that death is frightening even for Christians. He is not so foolish as to believe that the fear of death can be neutralized by stoic fortitude, as certain atheists try to convince themselves. This is a conviction that is often found in his writings. For example, in a sermon on 1 Corinthians 15 preached on October 6, 1532, he says: “The heathens have wisely said ‘he is a fool who is afraid of death, for through such fear he loses his own life.’ This would be true if only a man could act on the advice…They advise that nothing is better than simply cast all such fear aside, to rid the mind of it and to think: why worry about it? When we are dead, we are dead. That is certainly disposing of the matter in short order and completely extinguishing God’s wrath, hell and damnation!”4
Or again, in one of his table talks: “I do not like to see people glad to die…Great saints do not like to die. The fear of death is natural, for death is a penalty; therefore, it is something sad. According to the spirit one gladly dies; but according to the flesh, it is said ‘another shall carry you where you would not.’”5
Yet, because Christ defeated death, Luther also knows that the death of a Christian is fundamentally different. As he says to Frederick the Wise in one of his fourteen consolations: “The death of a Christian is to be looked upon as the brazen serpent of Moses. It does have the appearance of a serpent; but it is entirely without life, without motion, without poison, without sting…We do resemble those who die, and the outward appearance of our death is not different from that of others. But the thing itself is different nevertheless because for us death is dead.”6
This is why the Christian is able to prepare for death in a meaningful way. However, this preparation should take place throughout the whole of life, and this leads to Luther’s next insight.
Think of Death at the Right Time
This is perhaps the most insightful piece of advice and the most challenging for us today. The issue is not simply how to think about death but when. Luther’s oft-repeated advice is that we should familiarize ourselves with death while we are still healthy, while death itself still seems far away. Conversely, we should not stare at death when it is near us but rather focus on Christ. Now it is clear that most people today—sadly, including many Christians—do precisely the opposite. They studiously ignore death while healthy and are caught unprepared when it comes.
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Eschatological Living
Written by Gabriel N.E. Fluhrer |
Sunday, December 11, 2022
Eschatological living is life in union with Christ. Since Christ was the Spirit-filled last Adam (Luke 4:18; 1 Cor. 15:45), we who are joined to Him enjoy the same filling of the Spirit. Therefore, the moment we are united to Christ by Spirit-wrought faith (John 3:5), we are nothing less than Spirit-filled, Spirit-baptized, and Spirit-controlled. The Spirit’s indwelling is Christ in us, the hope of glory (Col. 1:27). As a result of this union, we live an “already/not yet” life in Christ. We have been crucified with Him (Rom. 6:6), but we carry the cross daily (Luke 9:23).The term eschatology and its meaning are the subject of unfamiliarity and confusion for many Christians. Much of this is because of how eschatology has been taught. Most of the time, it is limited to a study of the last events preceding the return of Christ. Certainly, it is not less than a study of those things, but it is also much more. Eschatology is woven into the warp and woof of every verse in Scripture. Therefore, eschatological life is the Trinitarian, covenantal promise of God’s revelation to us.
Still, many Christians wonder what the eschatological character of the Bible means for their daily lives. In this article, we will focus on two aspects of eschatological living. First, we will examine eschatological living as kingdom living. Second, we will trace eschatological living as it relates to our Spirit-wrought union with Christ.
The central focus of Christ’s ministry was the kingdom of God—anticipated in the Old Testament, inaugurated by our Lord’s first coming, explained in the rest of the New Testament, and consummated at Jesus’ second coming. Eschatological living begins with the understanding that Christians live as citizens of the kingdom of God (Phil. 3:20). How does this kingdom-centered mindset affect the way we live?A handful of things come to mind. Being a citizen of the kingdom means that we are, above all, poor in spirit (Matt. 5:3). This is the nonnegotiable entry point, the “wicket gate” of the kingdom—which is why Jesus lists it first in the Beatitudes. Being poor in spirit means that we recognize our need for a savior from our sin and renounce all forms of self-reliance daily.
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