The Remover of Our Reproach

Then the LORD said to Joshua, “Today I have rolled away the reproach of Egypt from you.” So the place has been called Gilgal to this day. (Joshua 5:9)

Egypt had enslaved the children of Israel for many generations, but God sent his deliverer, Moses, to bring them out. Pharaoh reluctantly agreed to let them go but then changed his mind and chased after them. When his army had them backed up to the Rea Sea with nowhere to go, God parted the waters for the children of Israel to go safely across. Pharaoh’s army tried to follow but were drowned by the returning waters.

Israel’s deliverance, though, was not yet complete. There was still the wilderness to cross before they reached the promised land, and what should have been an eleven-day trek turned into forty years of wandering because they were not willing to cross over into the land of promise. They were fearful of the “giants” they heard were there and were unwilling to trust God to safely lead them in.

They wanted to turn back, for Egypt was still in their hearts and bondage still had a strong hold on their minds. “Better we should die in the wilderness,” they said. And so they did. God gave them up to their desire. Forty years in the desert was not his idea. He would gladly have led them into the land if only they had been willing. But they were not. So they wandered, a natural result of their faithlessness. Even so, God was faithful, providing for their needs all along the way.

But now their self-imposed exile was over. That entire generation had died off and a new one had arisen that knew neither Egypt nor bondage. God brought them on into the promised land, and the reproach of Egypt was finally rolled away.

Sometimes the reproach on us is the accusations, the condemnations, the abuse put on us by others. Sometimes it is our own faithless choices and behaviors. Sometimes it is the shame we feel about our failures, our weaknesses — our helplessness. These easily become bondages from which we must be delivered.

But the good news of the gospel is that, in Jesus Christ, God has removed all our reproach. Christ has broken the power of sin, the power of death, the power of the accuser. His cross is the victory and his resurrection is the proof. The “reproach of Egypt” has been rolled away from us as surely as the stone was rolled away from the empty tomb on resurrection morning.

Random Thoughts

Thoughts culled from my random file, gathered from my Twitter tweets, Facebook updates and Instagrams. About divine love, relationship with God and new life in Christ. Some have come to me in moments of quiet reflection, some in interaction with others. Offered as “jump starts” for your faith.

• Jesus is the Light who reveals the Father and by whom the Spirit guides our way.
• One day, God will be all in all. Not just all in some or some in all, but all in all.
• The cross does not change God’s attitude toward us — God has always loved us — but it changes our attitude toward God.
• There is no bridge too far for the grace of God.
• The relentless love of God ever pursues his enemies, even into hell, until they turn to him and are rescued from themselves.
• Yes, God wants you to be happy, but He wants you to have the true happiness that is found only in Him.
• Grace does not mean that God is okay with our sin. It means that God has moved heaven and earth to rescue us from our sin.
• The nature of sin is the brokenness we experience in our relationship with God, with each other and even within our own selves. Jesus is the healer of that brokenness.
• What is wrong with Christianity? I am. Mea maxima culpa.
• The grace of God is far greater than I ever imagined when I first graduated from Bible college ... but perhaps not so very much greater than I imagined when I first came to him as a little child.
• My philosophy as a Christian is not that I am perfect, or anywhere near it. My philosophy is that I am a very broken person whom Christ is transforming by his love and grace and the giving of himself for my sake.
• Divine retribution can never make things right, it can only punish, so it can never be justice in the truest and fullest sense. But divine love changes hearts and King Jesus makes all things new.
• God is like the Father of the Prodigal Son, ever watching for our return and waiting to receive us.
• Today I partake of the divine power, divine glory, divine goodness, divine promise and divine nature of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. It is a good day.
• Everything is fuel for prayer.
• God is love. This changes everything.
• Today I am believing the extravagance of the love God has for me. It is a good day.
• Today I am declaring that God is love and Jesus is Lord. It is a day of great expectation.
• The grace of God is greater than my ability to understand ... or misunderstand.
• The “right side of history” is the “right side of history” ... until it is the wrong side of history. So I don’t worry about whether I am on it or not.
• The Holy Spirit leads us by showing us Jesus.
• The story of the gospel is the story of how God became Jesus and Jesus became King.
• God is always life, never death. For death is nothing but the absence of life ... the absence of God.
• Be love. For where love prevails, there is no foothold for bitterness or fear.
• How does God deal with our sin? He forgives us in Jesus Christ and transforms us by the Holy Spirit.

More random thoughts …

The Way of the Secret, Open Heart

Rend your heart and not your garments. (Joel 2:13)

“Rend your heart,” says Joel, “not your garments.” Rending, or tearing open, the garment was a way to demonstrate grief or repentance. In practice, it would be either a true sign of an inward disposition or, as it often was, merely an outward display, an empty show — and God had had enough of that from his people. In Isaiah, the Lord voiced his complaint: “These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. Their worship of me is based on merely human rules they have been taught” (Isaiah 29:13). This was a chronic condition with them, and once again, in Joel, it was time for a change in their inward disposition — a true repentance.

By the time of Christ, the Pharisees had perfected their sanctimony. The Lord Jesus spoke out against this in the Sermon on the Mount, particularly in regard to the practice of charity, prayer and fasting:

Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.

And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him …

When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to others that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. (Matthew 6:1-8, 16-18)

Alms, prayer and fasting are all very good things, but the Pharisees had become something of a play-actors guild with them. Jesus called them hypocrites, from the Greek word hypokrites, a term for stage-players and other pretenders. His criticism was that they were putting on masks and playing parts that did not match who they really were in their hearts. Everything became a show, to be seen by others. Their alms, prayer and fasting were for the applause of men. This praise was what they were angling for — and that would be all they would receive. Jesus’ sad refrain about them was, “Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full.” God was not impressed with them, for though God does indeed care about our actions, he is more concerned with the heart from which those actions spring: “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it” (Proverbs 4:23).

The Lord Jesus calls us to a different way, a way that is not about us, a way of humility. It is at once both a quiet, secret way, yet the way of an open heart. It is the way of Jesus, who did not come to please himself but to please the Father. Not to be served but to serve and to pour out his life for our sake. Paul exhorts us to this same mindfulness:

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death — even death on a cross! (Philippians 2:5-8)

There was a hiddenness in the way Christ came into the world. Though he was God’s Anointed King, and fully divine as well as fully human, he was not born in the sanctity of a temple or the luxury of a palace but in the simplicity of a stable. He did not grow to maturity in a royal court but in the obscurity of a little village and the home of a humble carpenter.

There was also a hiddenness in his ministry, which was often unannounced. Many times, the crowds even had to track him down. Sometimes the disciples, too, had to search for him. He spent much time, in the late evening or early morning hours, off by himself in a quiet place, praying. His death on the cross was not glorious but shameful in the eyes of the world, designed to humiliate him and his followers.

He did not come to exalt himself but to empty himself — yet he did not lose anything of his divinity by doing so. Rather, in taking the nature of a servant, he revealed to us the very nature of God, who is love. In him, then, is exemplified the second refrain from those passages in the Sermon on the Mount: “Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Philippians 2:9-11)

Understand, Christ did not humble himself in order to be exalted. His humility and servanthood is itself exaltation. His love and the giving of himself is the glory. For he has never ceased to be human, never ceased to be servant, never ceased pouring himself out for us. In a word, he has never ceased to be love. That is the “secret” way that gives light to the whole world, and Jesus calls us to himself that we might learn him and the way of the secret, open heart.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30)

Return to Me with All Your Heart

Blow the trumpet in Zion; sound the alarm on my holy hill. Let all who live in the land tremble, for the day of the LORD is coming. It is close at hand — a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and blackness. Like dawn spreading across the mountains a large and mighty army comes, such as never was in ancient times nor ever will be in ages to come. (Joel 2:1-2)

We do not know much about the prophet Joel or the occasion of his writing. He speaks of devastations that are past and also of great devastation to come, which he calls “the day of the LORD.” He speaks of locusts as armies and armies as locusts. In chapter 2, he describes a time of terrible judgment, when God allows the violent ways of man to come to fruition. Whatever the judgment is that he foretells, however, it is not the end nor is all finally lost. There is a word of hope from the Lord, an opportunity for repentance, for turning again to God.

“Even now,” declares the LORD, “return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning.” Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the LORD your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity. Who knows? He may turn and relent and leave behind a blessing — grain offerings and drink offerings for the LORD your God.

Blow the trumpet in Zion, declare a holy fast, call a sacred assembly. Gather the people, consecrate the assembly; bring together the elders, gather the children, those nursing at the breast. Let the bridegroom leave his room and the bride her chamber. Let the priests, who minister before the LORD, weep between the portico and the altar. Let them say, “Spare your people, LORD. Do not make your inheritance an object of scorn, a byword among the nations. Why should they say among the peoples, ‘Where is their God?’” (Joel 2:12-17)

Joel twice says, “Blow the trumpet in Zion.” The first time was to sound the alarm, but now there is a different purpose: to declare a holy fast and call a sacred assembly. Everyone is to come, from the very young to the very old, and even the bride and groom are called back from their honeymoon — it is a deeply serious matter. It is to be the preoccupation of the priests to weep between portico and alter, an area accessible to priests alone, to cry out for the mercy of the Lord, for him to deliver his people from destruction and the reproach of the nations.

Even now — whatever you have done, or are going through, or will face ahead — even now is the time to repent, to return to the Lord. Not in outward show or empty ritual, but with all your heart. Tears and ashes mean nothing without the heart. They do no good but are merely a deception. And God, who knows all hearts, is not the least bit fooled.

God is full of grace and compassion, slow to anger and abounding in love. That it is what he is in his very nature. Those who are hard in heart are senseless of it. But if we allow our hearts to be open, even to be broken before him, we will experience the love and grace he has towards us. Indeed, it is divine love and grace that breaks open our hearts to receive him. And if we are willing to bring our brokenness for the sake of his love, we shall be healed by that same love.

The Glory of Christ Changes Us

When Moses came down from Mount Sinai with the two tablets of the covenant law in his hands, he was not aware that his face was radiant because he had spoken with the LORD. When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, his face was radiant, and they were afraid to come near him. But Moses called to them; so Aaron and all the leaders of the community came back to him, and he spoke to them. Afterward all the Israelites came near him, and he gave them all the commands the LORD had given him on Mount Sinai. When Moses finished speaking to them, he put a veil over his face. But whenever he entered the LORD’s presence to speak with him, he removed the veil until he came out. And when he came out and told the Israelites what he had been commanded, they saw that his face was radiant. Then Moses would put the veil back over his face until he went in to speak with the LORD. (Exodus 34:29-35)

The blue jeans I wear are the Walmart special, called “Faded Glory.” I don’t like to wear new jeans that are deep blue, so a brand that comes pre-faded works just fine for me. But the truth is that all blue jeans will eventually fade in the wash, with very little of the original “glory” left in the end.

Moses had a fading glory. It was fresh when he first came down from Mt. Sinai with the tablets of the Law. His face was radiant then, so full of light and glory that the people were intimidated by it, afraid to come near. But when Moses finished speaking to them, he covered his face with a veil. There were apparently several cycles of this: Moses spoke with the Lord and his face became radiant, then he spoke to the people with his face unveiled, then he covered it up again. The apostle Paul understood the reason for this: the glory faded away because it was but a shadow that would one day give way to the reality of what it represented, and to a glory that endures.

Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold. We are not like Moses, who would put a veil over his face to prevent the Israelites from seeing the end of what was passing away. But their minds were made dull, for to this day the same veil remains when the old covenant is read. It has not been removed, because only in Christ is it taken away. Even to this day when Moses is read, a veil covers their hearts. But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. (2 Corinthians 3:12-18)

The “hope” Paul has in mind here is the expectation of the enduring glory of the new covenant mediated through Jesus Christ. The old covenant, mediated through Moses, was glorious but transitory. The Law cannot change us; it can only point out our need for change. It cannot give us life; it can only point out our deadness. It cannot create righteousness in us; it can only condemn us for our unrighteousness. It cannot redeem us — but it can and does point us to Jesus our Redeemer.

When we turn to the Lord Jesus, the veil that covers our heart is removed so that we understand the Scriptures through the lens of who Christ is and what he has done. He is the reality of which the Law could only ever be a shadow, and what was veiled in the Law is now made clear in him. So the glory of the Law was never meant to endure but faded with the coming of Christ, to whom it was always pointing.

The Law of Moses was written on tablets of stone, but what we need is the Spirit of the Lord, who comes to write God’s law on our hearts. Indeed, he gives us a new heart and puts his own Spirit within us (see Ezekiel 36:25-27). Where that happens — as it does when we turn to the Lord Jesus in faith — there is true freedom, for the Spirit of the Lord transforms us.

Christ dwells in us by the Holy Spirit and when we contemplate him, we are contemplating who we truly are in him and who he is in us — and we become what we behold. It is as if we were looking into a mirror and the image that appears there changes our own appearance. In the Transfiguration, the glory of Christ appeared visibly, revealing his divinity in the form of his humanity. Likewise, as we look to Christ, we are changed by the splendor of his radiance, transformed into the image of him who is the perfect image of God, revealing with ever-increasing glory who God always meant for us to be.

We Shall See Him as He Is

“Truly I tell you, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see the kingdom of God.”

About eight days after Jesus said this, he took Peter, John and James with him and went up onto a mountain to pray. As he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning. Two men, Moses and Elijah, appeared in glorious splendor, talking with Jesus. They spoke about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem. (Luke 9:28-31)

The Transfiguration of Christ is found in Matthew and Mark as well as here in Luke. In all three, the sequence of events leading up to it is the same: Peter receives the revelation that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God. Jesus foretells his impending death, then speaks to his disciples about the need to deny themselves, take up their cross and follow him. This is followed by the statement that some standing there would not die before they saw “the kingdom of God” (Luke), “the Son of Man coming in his kingdom” (Matthew), “that the kingdom of God has come with power” (Mark). About eight days later, Jesus takes Peter, James and John with him to the mountain to pray. The Transfiguration, then, is a very powerful revelation of the kingdom of God and the glory of Christ the King.

Jesus was deep in prayer when his face and clothes became radiant with light. Moses and Elijah appeared suddenly, also full of glory and splendor. Moses was the great Law-giver and Elijah the great prophet of the Old Testament. They were conversing with Jesus about his “departure,” which would soon be accomplished at Jerusalem. They had both had unusual departures themselves: Moses was buried by God and nobody ever found the grave, and Elijah did not see death but was translated to heaven in a “chariot of fire” in the middle of a whirlwind.

The word Luke chose for “departure” is significant. It is the Greek word exodus, a very evocative term, being the Greek title for the second book of the Old Testament. The book of Exodus was about how God led the children of Israel out of Egypt through Moses.

The exodus Jesus was about to fulfill was his death on the cross but also his resurrection from the dead and his ascension to his throne at the right hand of the Father. It was not a departure through death but a departure from death, for his death became the death of death itself. By his death, we also are set free from death, and from the one who holds the power of death. “Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death — that is, the devil — and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death” (Hebrews 2:14-15). The exodus Jesus accomplished became our own “deliverance from Egypt,” for in him we are crucified, made alive again and seated in the heavenlies at the right hand of the Father (Galatians 2:20; Ephesians 2:4-6).

Peter and his companions were very sleepy, but when they became fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him. As the men were leaving Jesus, Peter said to him, “Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters — one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” (He did not know what he was saying.) While he was speaking, a cloud appeared and covered them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud.

A voice came from the cloud, saying, “This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him.” When the voice had spoken, they found that Jesus was alone. The disciples kept this to themselves and did not tell anyone at that time what they had seen. (Luke 9:32-36)

Peter, James and John had been asleep — it was often Jesus’ way to go off and pray in the night or early morning hours — but now they were fully awake, though understanding very little of what they were witnessing. They had missed much of it and by now Moses and Elijah were leaving. Peter, being the earnest and impulsive man that he was, wanted to build three dwelling places: one for Jesus, one for Moses and one for Elijah. He did not understand what he was saying — so he went ahead and said it.

At that moment, a cloud came over them and Peter left off what he was saying, terrified as it enveloped him and the other two. The voice of the Father said, “This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him.” It was not Moses or Elijah but Jesus alone who is the Son and whom the Father anointed as Messiah. Moses and Elijah — the Law and the Prophets — were always about him, and in him they find their fulfillment. “In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom also he made the universe” (Hebrews 1:1-2). Christ is God’s final and complete word. He is the one we are to listen to, and in him we will understand the meaning of Moses and Elijah.

But now let’s consider the transfiguration itself, for Christ is “the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being” (Hebrews 1:3). The transfiguration was not a transformation of who Jesus was but a revelation of who Jesus is, a manifestation of his divinity in the form of his humanity. It was his divine glory being revealed for what it is.

In the beginning, man was created in the image of God, to be like God and to bear his glory. However, Paul reminds us that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). We have each turned away from God and broken the connection — fellowship with God, each other, the rest of creation, and even our own selves. But God became one of us, joining himself to us in order to reconcile us back to himself, that humankind might bear the divine glory for which we were originally created. That we might, in the words of 2 Peter 1:4, “participate in the divine nature.”

In the transfiguration of Christ, we see what God has always intended for humanity — to conform us to the image of Christ, transforming us as we allow him to renew our minds. He is at work in us not only empowering us with the ability to do what pleases him but also creating in us the desire to do so.

As Christ was revealed in his transfiguration that day on the mountain, that is how we, too, shall one day see him — and we shall be like him, for the revelation of Christ transforms us. “Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is” (1 John 3:2). Even now, “the darkness is fading and the true light is already shining” (1 John 2:8).