Bible – Page 3

On Winning the War, Part 3: The Flesh

November 25, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Identifying the Enemy | Part 2: The World

The second front in our three-front war, according to the common saying, is “the flesh.” The Bible uses this word in a couple of ways, one positive and the other negative. Sometimes the word refers to the sensitive part of us, the tender part, the living part—similarly to the way we use the expression “it cut to the quick.” Twice through the prophet Ezekiel God says, “I will take the stony heart out of their flesh, and will give them an heart of flesh” (Ezk 11.19; cf Ezk 36.26). That’s a good thing.

But the Bible, particularly in Paul, also speaks of the flesh as the evil that lives within us (Ro 7.18)—what Paul also calls the “old man” (Ro 6.6), and what theologians refer to as the “sinful nature.” And as I’ve noted in an earlier series, John names “the lust of the flesh” as part of what characterizes the lifestyle of “the world.”

I noted in that same earlier post that “the flesh” involves more than just sexual lust; it includes any physical desire that is inappropriate: gluttony, for example, or laziness. It’s interesting to me that all of these physical desires were given to us by God: we need food and sleep every day, and we need to reproduce for the survival of the species. They’re good things, all of them—but they make lousy gods, and they can destroy us if uncontrolled. Like fire, a useful servant but a fearful master.

So how do we fight the flesh? Particularly since these desires are things that we ought to exercise responsibly? Are we doomed to be like the alcoholic who has one drink a day and hopes—forlornly—that he can control it?

Not at all. The key to controlling the flesh, like the key to controlling physical addiction, is health—physical health for the addict, and spiritual health for the worshiper of the flesh. A helpful passage, I think, is Galatians 5.16-26:

16 But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not carry out the desire of the flesh. 17 For the flesh sets its desire against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; for these are in opposition to one another, so that you may not do the things that you please. 18 But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the Law. 19 Now the deeds of the flesh are evident, which are: immorality, impurity, sensuality, 20 idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, outbursts of anger, disputes, dissensions, factions, 21 envying, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these, of which I forewarn you just as I have forewarned you that those who practice such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. 22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. 24 Now those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. 25 If we live by the Spirit, let us also walk by the Spirit. 26 Let us not become boastful, challenging one another, envying one another.

Here’s how that works:

Recognize the fact of victory (Ga 5.16). We do not need to lose this battle; indeed, it has already been won (Ro 7.24-8.1). Many are discouraged that their struggle with the flesh is ongoing; but on the contrary, that struggle is a good sign. It indicates that the Spirit is doing his convicting work and conforming you, bit by bit, to the image of Christ (2Co 3.18). It indicates a tender heart, a “heart of flesh,” rather than a hardened one.

Be led by the Spirit (Ga 5.18). This is simply sanctification, or growth in grace. It’s the result of spiritual exercise through absorbing the Scripture, wrestling in prayer, and actively fellowshipping with other believers. Filling one’s mind with God’s thoughts will help drive out one’s own—or rather, transform them (Ro 12.2) from self-focused to outward- and upward-focused.

It’s a long haul, and it requires faithfulness. But victory is certain, in God’s good time.

Next time: dealing with the devil.

Photo by Henry Hustava on Unsplash

On Winning the War, Part 2: The World

November 21, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Identifying the Enemy

So we’re fighting a three-front war—something no one’s likely to win without divine power. Let’s take a look at the first enemy, the world.

I wrote some on this just a few posts ago, focusing primarily on definitional matters. Here I’d like to focus on how to fight so as to win. I think a key biblical source on this question is John’s first epistle.

The Right Family

I’d suggest that the essential requirement for this fight is being in the right family (or to continue the military metaphor, the right army); without this identity and the power it conveys, all is lost. John writes,

For whatever is born of God overcomes the world; and this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith (1J 5.4).

To be effective in battle, a soldier has to be alive. In the spiritual battle against the combined forces of the world as organized in opposition to God, the spiritually dead have no hope.

But to be spiritually alive, a member of God’s family—now that equips and mobilizes a person for spiritual warfare. And John identifies the impetus for spiritual life: faith.

The biblical authors are agreed on this. Paul writes, “By grace are you saved, through faith—and that not of yourselves” (Ep 2.8). Peter writes of “the end of your faith, even the salvation of your souls” (1P 1.9). The author to the Hebrews states, “Without faith it is impossible to please [God]” (He 11.6).

Faith is simply trusting God to forgive your sins on the basis of Christ’s death on your behalf (Ro 3.21.28).

How do you know if you’re in?

Well, there are actually several signs of that, but let me focus on just one: your attitude toward sin will change. Whereas you once loved your sin, you now see it accurately as your enemy, the destroyer of your soul. And you turn from it. The Bible calls that “repentance.” You won’t completely stop sinning—in my opinion that’s impossible this side of the grave—but your attitude toward sin will change, and you’ll fight against it. As time goes on and you gain fighting experience, you’ll get better at the fight, but you’ll be attitudinally on board from the very beginning (1J 3.9).

The Right Focus

Any combat veteran will tell you that to succeed in battle, you have to pay attention. Focus is absolute.

Just after identifying faith as the key in the verse quoted above (1J 5.4), John writes,

And who is the one who overcomes the world, but he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God? (1J 5.5).

As a believer, you keep your focus on Jesus, the Christ, the Son of God, because he is the one we follow, we serve. He is the battlefield commander, and following his orders certainly eventuates in victory. Why is that? Because Jesus, as God, is all-powerful and cannot be defeated.

You are from God, little children, and have overcome them; because greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world (1J 4.4).

In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world (Jn 16.33).

To win this fight, every soldier needs to concentrate on Christ, study him, learn him. Everything else is a distraction.

Focusing on Christ will also enable you to focus on the long-term rather than the short-term. The English poet William Wordsworth wrote, “The world is too much with us.” It fills our peripheral vision with distractions, like the mobile over a baby’s crib, and we’re tempted to fritter away our limited lifetime on passing, temporary things: stuff, applause, pop culture, and a host of other trivia.

When your mind is focused on the eternal—most especially, likeness to the image of Christ (2Co 3.18)—the flashing neon roadside signs seem dim and worthless. Like an experienced driver, you focus down the road, taking in the whole scene and driving responsibly, safely, effectively, arriving at your destination, which was the whole point of being on the road in the first place.

Focus. It will enable you to defeat your enemy the world.

Photo by Henry Hustava on Unsplash

On Danger, Fear, and God’s Care

November 14, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

We all face challenges. Some people face genuine dangers from genuine enemies. And most of them face fear.

God doesn’t experience any of these things. He faces nothing that could be described as a challenge to his omnipotence, and though he has powerful enemies, he is greater than them all, and their defeat is sure. And consequently, he is never afraid.

So how does someone like that respond to someone like us? Does he understand challenge, and enemies, and fear? Does he care?

King David, who had plenty of challenges and enemies and fears, had some thoughts on that in many of his writings. Today I choose to consider Psalm 6.

David is facing a fearsome trial. He mentions physical issues (Ps 6.2), but I’m inclined to think his real concern is “enemies” (Ps 6.7). He clearly thinks his life is in danger (Ps. 6.5).

And so he meditates and writes out his thoughts.

The Psalm has three sections. He begins by presenting his appeal to God (Ps 6.1-5); then he lays out the anguish that his situation is causing (Ps 6.6-7); and then he finishes by describing the assurance he has in God’s care and deliverance (Ps 6.8-10).

Appeal (Ps 6.1-5)

David begins by admitting—implicitly—that God has reason to be angry with him (Ps 6.1). He doesn’t go into detail. Here we see someone who is in the same situation we are: we need deliverance by God’s hand, but we know we don’t come to him from a position of strength. We need grace; we need mercy (Ps 6.2).

David’s situation is desperate; he expresses himself in broken phrases, in grunts (Ps 6.3). Interestingly, Jesus appears to use David’s words as he prays in the Garden of Gethsemane (Jn 12.27) before his arrest, trial, and crucifixion.

David asks God to “turn” to him, as if he had turned away for some reason (Ps 6.4). The Hebrew word is shub, a word commonly used for turning from sin in repentance (e.g. Is 30.15; 44.22; 55.7). David asks God to change his mind.

He cites two motivations for God to deliver him: God’s “mercies” (Ps 6.4), or hesed, and his glory (Ps 6.5)—that is, the thanksgiving he will receive for acting to deliver.

Is that an appeal to some selfish motive in God? I don’t think so. First, God’s glory, unlike ours, is something actually deserved and appropriate; God is not like his limited creatures. And second, is there anything wrong with enjoying being thanked? Don’t we like to be thanked when we do something for someone we love? Is it selfish to revel in someone else’s joy?

Anguish (Ps 6.6-7)

David lays out the evidences of his anguish, which in turn is evidence of the seriousness of the danger he faces.

He is exhausted by the constant pressure of the situation (Ps 6.6a).

He weeps through the night (Ps 6.6b)

His perspective is colored—poisoned—by the stress of the situation (Ps 6.7).

Assurance (Ps 6.8-10)

During his prayer, David receives assurance that the Lord has heard him and will answer (Ps 6.8-9). We don’t know exactly how this worked; it may be as simple as his believing God’s earlier promises to hear the prayers of his people (Ex 22.27), or knowing God’s character well enough to anticipate similar future promises (Is 65.24; Zec 13.9).

For whatever reason, David knows. And so he begins to address his enemies directly, and he flips the situation against them. At the beginning of his prayer, he is the one who is deeply troubled (Ps 6.2); but now, his enemies find themselves in that situation (Ps 6.10). Earlier, he has asked God to turn, to change (Ps. 6.4); but now, he calls on his enemies to turn and change (Ps 6.10), with the same verb he used of God earlier.

So what do we see here?

God’s people call on him when they are afraid.

He hears, even when they don’t “deserve” it.

And he answers by reversing the situation, judging his enemies, and protecting his people.

Timely advice whenever we’re afraid.

Photo by Alexandra Gorn on Unsplash

On Faith and Culture, Part 6: The Big Idea 

November 7, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Flexible Evangelism | Part 3: Drawing the Line 1 | Part 4: Drawing the Line 2 | Part 5: Choosing Wisely

When we’re making these difficult decisions about our relationship to a new culture—or even to the one we know best—it’s wise to keep the Big Idea in mind. That Big Idea, of course, is the biblical metanarrative—the story of God’s working out his plan for the world and all who are in it.

To begin with, God creates mankind in his image and gives him dominion over a creation that is “very good” (Ge 1.31). But due to Adam’s sin, creation is marred, and the image is distorted.

As he had always planned, the Creator sets out to restore his image and the beauty of his creation. He chooses a line of humans to eventuate in a Deliverer, whom he anoints as prophet, priest, and king. And that Deliverer restores the image by living a life that provides positive righteousness to all who believe, and then by dying a death that pays sin’s penalty for all who will come.

And then he begins to gather a people who will praise his name. He invites “the Jew first,” but he inaugurates a new body, the church, to erase national and ethnic boundaries. These diverse peoples will gather weekly to look one another in the face and exercise their gifts for the betterment of them all.

In his epistle most closely associated with this concept, Ephesians, Paul begins by announcing the elements of God’s work of salvation (Ep 1) and then the radical effects of salvation: loving unity between former enemies—first, God and man (Ep 2.1-13) and then Jews and Gentiles (Ep 2.14-22). And then, the aim and purpose of it all: the glory of God (Ep 3.10).

And here we slow down dramatically in our storytelling. Paul says he has a “dispensation”—a commission, a stewardship, a trust—from God, who has entrusted him with the message of the gospel to the Gentiles. He has been faithful to that trust; after multiple missionary journeys across the Roman Empire, he returns to Jerusalem, where he is arrested as a troublemaker at the very mention of the Gentiles (Ac 22.21). And he was in Jerusalem specifically to bring a monetary gift from the Gentile church to the predominantly Jewish church in Jerusalem—to act out the very unity that he has been preaching.

This “dispensation” is to “gather together in one all things in Christ” (Ep 1.10). It was no surprise that Gentiles would eventually worship the God of Israel; God’s covenant with Abraham had noted that in him “all nations of the earth would be blessed” (Ge 12.3), and the prophets had detailed the coming of all nations to the Temple in Jerusalem (Is 2.1-4; 27.12-13).

But that Gentiles would enter the kingdom not by converting to Judaism, but with equal standing—that was new revelation (Ep 3.6).

In all of this, God would be glorified

Through his unsearchable riches (Ep 3.7-8)
Through his eternal plan (Ep 3.9)
Through his manifold wisdom
- Exhibited to the angels (Ep 3.10)
- And experienced by the church (Ep 3.11-12)

This new body, the church, is united across all cultural boundaries because it is rooted and grounded in love (Ep 3.14-17) and unified in their apprehension (Ep 3.18)—because they are all united perfectly with the Father (Ep 3.19).

This will most surely come to pass, despite all the things that fragment our fellowship today. God’s plan is that this be revealed in, through, and by the church. May we all be part of that fulfillment.

Photo by Joseph Grazone on Unsplash

James’s Big Ideas, Part 4: Works

September 19, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Wisdom | Part 3: Words

One more theme makes itself obvious in James’s little letter. Multiple times he uses a Greek verb, or its noun equivalent, to speak of our works.

He notes a couple of ways that humans naturally “work” evil:

We exhibit wrath (Jam 1.20).

We discriminate against people—specifically the poor (Jam 2.9—translated “commit” or “committing” in many of the English versions).

But God doesn’t leave us in our sorry state. The first thing James comments on in his letter is that God “works” in his people through trials, to develop endurance in them. When he has rescued us from our inborn proclivities, he begins to work on us, shaping us, trying us, so that we will be mature examples of his people.

And what do you suppose happens then?

We begin to “work” in ways that we were unable to before. In fact, it becomes impossible for us not to respond to God’s work in us with our works—works that provide evidence of the genuineness of our faith. In James’s memorable words, “Faith without works is dead” (Jam 2.20).

He gives us two historical examples of believers who demonstrated their faith by their works:

Abraham (Jam 2.21), who obeyed God’s command to take his promised son, Isaac, to Moriah and sacrifice him, until God stopped him at the very last moment (Hebrews 11.19 tells us that he believed that God would raise his son from the dead after he had sacrificed him.)

Rahab (Jam 2.25), who protected the Israelite (enemy!) soldiers and enabled them to escape the Canaanite forces

This kind of obedience perfectly exemplifies the attitude James has already described—and commanded—in chapter 1: that we should be doers of the Word, and not merely hearers (Jam 1.25). Abraham heard the word directly, of course; God spoke to him audibly (Ge 22.2), as he did relatively often in those days before the arrival of the Living Word (He 1.1-2) and the completion of the Written.

But the case of Rahab is less obvious, more subtle. There is no indication that God ever spoke to her. She and her people had heard—through the rumor mill—of the parting of the Red Sea and of Israel’s defeat of the two Amorite kings (Jos 2.10). I suppose we could say that the word Rahab heard from God was general, rather than special, revelation. But while her countrymen had responded as unbelievers, in fear, she had responded in faith: “Yahweh your God, he is God in heaven above and in earth beneath” (Jos 2.11). And that faith unavoidably made itself plain in her decisions and the consequent actions.

Here we have clear evidence of God’s working in the hearts of those who believe in him to produce evidentiary works.

Throughout his epistle James gives us plentiful specific examples of the kinds of works we will produce as God works in us.

Enduring temptation (faithfulness) (Jam 1.12)

Control of anger (Jam 1.19)

Responding to the Scripture’s correcting work (Jam 1.25)

Helping widows and orphans (Jam 1.27)

Nondiscrimination (Jam 2.1)

Giving to the poor (Jam 2.15)

Controlling the mouth (Jam 3.2)

Sorrow for sin (Jam 4.9)

Rejection of materialism (Jam 4.13)

Honesty (Jam 5.1, 4)

Prayer (Jam 5.16)

And so it must be with us. We demonstrate our genuine faith through our “conversation,” our lifestyle, including both words and works, that displays the fruit of obedience. And that, James says, is wisdom (Jam 3.13).

So here, at the end, we find that all three of these Big Ideas come together. We gain wisdom from God, and that wisdom leads us to works that are consistent with our condition as believers, including words that bring life rather than death.

This epistle from the first generation of Jesus’ followers is as relevant today as ever.

Photo by madeleine ragsdale on Unsplash

James’s Big Ideas, Part 2: Wisdom

September 12, 2024 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1: Introduction

One of James’s greatest emphases, from the beginning (Jam 1.5) to the end (Jam 5.20) of his epistle, is wisdom. James is using the Greek word sophia, from which we get our words sophisticated, sophomore, and philosopher. In the Bible, it doesn’t mean “smart” or “intellectually gifted”; there are many examples in the Bible of smart people who weren’t wise, and of wise people who weren’t particularly smart. The Bible uses the word to describe people who are good at figuring out what is the right or most effective or most appropriate response to a situation. It’s about the practical side, not the mental or intellectual side.

Where Do You Get It?

James begins his epistle by implying that you get wisdom from experience, specifically trials and testings (Jam 1.2-4). In the hard days of life you learn to work through those difficulties to a solution; and whether your “solution” is a good one or not, you learn from it, whether as a positive or negative example. After a sufficient number of those experiences, you find yourself “mature and complete, not lacking anything” (Jam 1.4 NIV).

But then, to drive his point home, he speaks directly: if you need wisdom, ask God for it. God will give you all you need, and he won’t be bothered that you asked (Jam 1.5); in fact, he’ll be glad you asked. You demonstrate humility and teachability by asking, and those qualities set you up for wisdom.

But—and here’s a fundamental qualification—you need to trust the God you ask (Jam 1.6). He will answer, and effectively, and he will bring you out at the right place. As James has already implied, wisdom comes through difficulty—and when God begins to answer your request by sending hard times, you need to trust him by expecting the hard times to come, facing them directly, and working through them to the end and the resulting wisdom. There’s no room for “going wobbly” with the all-wise and loving God when he’s acting—as he always does—in your best long-term interests. If you don’t face the difficulty and drive through to the end, you’re not going to be any wiser for the experience (Jam 1.7).

What Happens Then?

Wisdom has specific characteristics; when you get it, you’ll be able to recognize it. In the middle of his epistle, James tells us what it doesn’t look like, and then what it does.

Not Like This

James says that the world has a certain way of looking at things, a way that it thinks is “wise” (Jam 3.14-15). It’s characterized, he says, by “bitter envying and strife” (Jam 3.14). We certainly see that around us, from Tik Tok influencers to tensions between global superpowers. I want something that someone else has, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get it. The world calls this “initiative” or “drive”; but what it really is is rejection of providence and lack of trust in the goodness and wisdom of the Director.

James says (Jam 3.15) this “wisdom” is

Earthly: focused on the temporary, the trivial (think pop culture)

Sensual: focused on what makes you naturally feel good (think promiscuity, addiction, laziness)

Devilish: focused on the selfish pride that characterizes the evil forces

But Like This

True wisdom, on the other hand, evidences itself in a person’s choices (Jam 3.13)—specifically (Jam 3.17), choices that reflect

Purity: morally clean living

Peaceableness: a tendency to radiate and encourage peace rather than conflict

Gentleness: refusal to insist on your rights; tending to yield

Entreatability: willingness to hear the other side and to be convinced

Mercifulness: kindness to those in need; willingness to withhold punishment

Good fruits: actions that are useful or beneficial

Impartiality: treating others with fairness and respect

Genuineness: being what you claim and what you advocate

Did you notice that at the beginning of this post, I listed James 5.20 as advocating wisdom? Did you check that reference? It doesn’t use the word; the last explicit reference to wisdom is here in James 3.17. But if wisdom is the ability to choose the right response in a situation, then James 5.20 is talking about it, even without mentioning it.

If you look at our current culture, you probably find it difficult to avoid the conclusion that we live in a foolish, foolish age.

How about if we choose to go against the flow and raise our culture’s wisdom quotient rather than making the world more foolish?

Photo by madeleine ragsdale on Unsplash

James’s Big Ideas, Part 1: Introduction

September 9, 2024 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Imagine having as a best friend one of Jesus’ brothers—someone who lived with and looked up to him when he was a child, who at first didn’t believe on him (Jn 7.5), maybe thought he was a little crazy (Mt 12.46-49)—but one day, the resurrected Jesus came to him (1Co 15.7), and he was never the same. Now he’s a leader in the early church (Ac 15.13; Ga 2.9); he’s a man who walks with God and prays so much that his knees have calluses like a camel’s. And he’s your best friend. Would you listen to what he says?

As it turns out, this half-brother of Jesus has written a letter, a brief one, but one that’s filled with big ideas, thoughts that have been percolating in his head since that conversation with his resurrected older brother, the conversation that made him realize that everything he thought he knew was fundamentally far too simple. This letter is the fruit of those hours in the Temple, on his callused knees, meditating on the Hebrew Scriptures and the teachings of the brother he thought he knew but obviously didn’t.

In this letter James has an unusual style. He writes like a combination of Teddy Roosevelt and John the Baptist, or perhaps the prophet Amos or Ezekiel, along with the sort of intense disjointedness that we find in Proverbs. He’s confident, assured of the rightness of his words, and he says what he thinks, bluntly and with no attempt to soften their impact.

He speaks his mind, and he doesn’t suffer fools gladly.

But at the same time, his love for his brother—his master (Jam 1.1), the Lord of glory (Jam 2.1)—is apparent in every word, even though he mentions him only twice in his letter. And his love for the readers of this letter, “my brethren” (Jam 2.1 and 7 other times in these 5 chapters), “my beloved brethren” (Jam 1.19) is evident as well. He writes directly, practically, down to earth and easy to understand; he shows no sign of Paul’s complex argumentation or John’s heavenly vision. He’s about doing—ethics—not just thinking or feeling. He says these hard things because his readers are worth the effort, the risk, the direct intervention. He is not willing to let them go.

Because of his passionate bluntness, he doesn’t evidence the clear logical structure of Paul, say, in Romans or 1 Corinthians or Galatians, or of the author of Hebrews. As noted earlier, he reads more like Proverbs than like Paul.

And so he says a lot of things. One commentator, Zane Hodges, sees a broad structure in the book laid out in James 1.19: “Let every man be swift to hear [Jam 1.21-2.26], slow to speak [Jam 3.1-18], slow to wrath [Jam 4.1-5.6]” (“The Epistle of James,” in the Grace NT Commentary, 1108ff). But most students of the epistle see it as much more free-flowing than structured.

In this brief series I’d like to stop and think about three of the things James thinks are most important for you and me, his friends, to know. These three things are the core of what we need to know—and be—in order to have the very best life, the life that God has designed us for.

The three things are easy to remember, since they all start with “w.” They are our wisdom, our words, and our works.

To be continued.

Photo by madeleine ragsdale on Unsplash

On Widows in the Church

August 29, 2024 by Dan Olinger 3 Comments

In the Bible James notes that taking care of widows and orphans is at the very heart of true religion (Jam 1.27). Later Paul, in a letter to his protégé Timothy, gives details on how the church should see to that duty (1Ti 5.3-16). His words are perhaps unexpectedly lengthy and detailed; he wants this done right.

Widows with family, he says, should be cared for by their family (1Ti 5.4, 16). That’s sensible. Further, the widow needs to be at least 60 (1Ti 5.9)—presumably because a younger woman would have a reasonable chance of getting married again (1Ti 5.11)—and have lived in a way that demonstrates the genuineness of her faith (1Ti 5.9-10), something that would obligate the church to see to her care.

How does this work in our culture? I’d like to share a story from my experience.

In a church where I was on the elder board, one of the elders got a burden for the widows, something he just couldn’t get out of his mind. We put him in charge of putting something together that would bring some discipline to our approach, particularly so that no one would fall through the cracks of our care.

Soon we had a list of all the widows in the church. There were 35. I was surprised at how many there were. Then an elder and a deacon interviewed each one: how are you doing? What do you need? How can we help?

We were all surprised at what we learned.

We expected to find financial need; that was certainly a primary concern in Paul’s day. There may have been a concern or two in our congregation, but for the most part that was not a problem. They told us that their husbands had had life insurance, and they had enough to live on. Some, in fact, were in better shape financially than they had been when their husbands were alive.

But that is not to say there were no needs. You know what they told us?

“We need purpose. We need to be needed. We need something to do, a reason to get up in the morning. We need to belong.”

Wow.

Two thoughts struck me immediately.

First, we were completely uninformed, misinformed, on the situation in our own church. It was nothing like we thought.

And second, how could we have missed such a serious need?

We took immediate action. We asked the widows to come up with ideas on how they could organize and serve. That would address both the need to belong and the need to be needed.

And their first idea surprised us. They suggested that they clean the houses of new mothers.

I’ll confess that I wasn’t too keen on that idea. Widows are often, um, older than the population median, and were they up to it? Physical labor?

Well, it turns out that living that long helps give a person good sense, and they were wise enough not to take on tasks that would be too much for them. And their time with the new moms gave them opportunity to share mothering wisdom with the first-timers, and they delighted in the chance to hold the newborns and marvel over their little fingers and toes.

It was a win all around. Listening to people, and trusting their good sense and creativity, is a good thing.

I suspect that widows’ ministry will look a little different in every church, but we can be sure that we will give account to whether we have attended to that need.

Do you know what happened next?

That elder? The one with the burden? He died, and his wife became a widow. And she stepped right into a ministry that was ready to help her with grief support, and a need to be needed. Eventually she became the de facto leader of that widows’ ministry, until she remarried some years later.

Isn’t providence good?

Photo by Free Walking Tour Salzburg on Unsplash

On Discipline, Part 1: Perspective

July 22, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

No, I’m not referring to child-rearing, but to how we discipline ourselves. It’s a truism that if you aim at nothing, you’ll certainly hit it. Pretty much everybody understands that you have to set goals, and then persist in pursuing them, in order to accomplish anything worthwhile.

There’s a whole industry of advisors, people who are happy to coach you on making the best of life—whether on the secular side or on the spiritual. Reading these works discerningly and thoughtfully can be highly profitable.

More reliably, though, the Scripture addresses this topic extensively. A series of blog posts is not the place for a comprehensive survey of the biblical theology of personal discipline, but it’s reasonable to focus on a single passage that concentrates on the idea.

I find such a passage in Philippians 4. It’s a concise presentation, and a familiar one; many Christians have memorized the passage, or at least parts of it. In verses 4-9, I find a list of five aspects of our lifestyle—what the King James translators called “conversation”—that we ought to discipline in certain ways. Lord willing, I’ll devote a post to each of the five.

The section opens with Paul’s goal for his (and our) perspective:

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice (Php 4.4).

Our view of things, he says, should be consistently joyful.

Several things to note about that.

First, this is Paul writing. He has not had an easy life; as he has already noted in this short epistle, he has sacrificed early professional success to follow Jesus (Php 3.4-11), and a few years earlier he has listed for the church in Corinth a litany of hardship (2Co 11.23-29). Even as he writes these words, he is under house arrest in Rome, waiting for a hearing before Caesar that threatens capital punishment. He is not speaking platitudes.

Second, he is writing to Philippi, a church founded out of a night in prison, an earthquake, and government opposition (Ac 16.13-40). He is about to say that this church has already given sacrificially to support his ministry from a distance (Php 4.16). There is nothing flippant or casual about what he is asking them to do.

Rejoice, he says. No, I really mean it, he repeats.

And furthermore, rejoice all the time.

Rejoice in the good times; rejoice in the bad. Rejoice in success; rejoice in failure.

Rejoice in house arrest. Rejoice in the inner prison.

Interestingly, Paul lives that out. He has already written here that his arrest has yielded good things (Php 1.12-14), and he will go on to say that there are now saints in Caesar’s household (Php 4.22)—though we don’t know whether they became saints as a direct result of his appeal to Caesar.

Now for the fifty-dollar question—how does he do it? How does Paul rejoice in the midst of suffering and injustice greater than you (probably) or I have ever experienced? And by extension, how are we to “rejoice … always”?

The ellipsis provides the answer: “rejoice in the Lord always.”

There’s a lot packed into that tiny prepositional phrase.

What does it mean to “rejoice in the Lord”?

At its purest, it means simply to rejoice in God himself—who he is, and what he does. Meditation on him brings great delight.

But God knows that we are dust, and he understands that we are consistently motivated by self-interest. He graciously works benefits to us, in which we can then rejoice. The blessings of salvation are profitable topics for meditation, as are answers to prayer. (Sidebar: if you don’t pray much, or at all, you’re depriving yourself of the joy that comes from seeing prayers answered.) The confidence that comes from following his will, even through valleys (Ps 23.4), is reason to rejoice. It’s a great gift to know that, really, everything’s going to be OK, and the hard times will eventuate in great good.

So our first step of discipline, according to this passage, is in our perspective: we discipline ourselves to see all things as causes for rejoicing.

This is life-changing.

More next time.

Photo by Dave Lowe on Unsplash

Ruth—Emptiness Filled, Part 10: Eternally Filled

May 6, 2024 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

With the way cleared for Boaz to serve as Ruth’s—and Naomi’s—redeemer, “the elders call down blessings upon him and his bride, and pray that the gracious Ruth will be a mother in Israel such as Rachel and Leah were [Ru 4.11]. This is indeed an optimistic expectation, since these two women as wives of Jacob built up the whole house of Israel, with the assistance of their maids Bilhah and Zilpah” (ECB).

But they go further. They mention “the house of Perez” (Ru 4.12). Why Perez? Well, Perez ”was an ancestor of Boaz (18), and one of only three ancestors of the whole tribe of Judah. Probably most of the local population had descended from him” (NBC).

The comparison is rife with ironic contrast.

First, Perez’s birth to Tamar, via Judah, was “a situation in which the levirate responsibility was not honored (Gen. 38)” (TCBC). Judah had failed to care for his daughter-in-law after her husband Er had died. Boaz is a more distant relative to Naomi and Ruth, yet he is fully committed to meeting all their needs.

Second, “Tamar achieved her ends through trickery, but Ruth received her son through righteous obedience. … Ironically, the righteousness of a Moabitess, a foreigner to Israel’s covenant, brought salvation to Judah’s family” (HCBC). “Considering the rabbinic hermeneutical principle of ‘from greater to lesser,’ the reader cannot help but think that if Yahweh had given immoral Judah a double blessing in the birth of twins and if Judah flourished through Perez, how much brighter are the prospects for Boaz and Ruth” (NAC).

“This conclusion of the narrative contrasts beautifully with its introduction (1:1–5). Deep sorrow turned to radiant joy; emptiness gave way to fullness” (BKC).

The marriage is followed quickly by fruitfulness in the birth of a son (Ru 4.13). The redeemer who had filled Ruth’s apron with seed for daily bread multiple times now fills her with the sort of seed that will have an eternal impact.* Ruth had had no children during her 10-year marriage to Mahlon; this time will be different. The filling includes not only provision—wealthy provision—but also offspring, and thus a future.

As we might expect, the women of this little village find the birth of this baby a matter for comment (Ru 4.14-15)—and they address their comments not to Ruth, the mother, but to Naomi. They recognize this birth, undistinguished to the earthly eye, as momentous. The baby, not Boaz, is the real redeemer. Mara, the bitter, empty woman, is Naomi again, redeemed, rescued, confident in her secure future.

And the narrative ends with the infant not in Ruth’s lap, but in Naomi’s. She is truly filled. Perhaps the book should be called “Naomi.”

And then the final twist. We learn why this story of poor, apparently insignificant women from a small village is occupying a place in the literature of eternity.

This child of Boaz, and of Perez, is a link in a long chain extending from Abram (Gen 12.1-3)—indeed from God’s “first gospel” in Ge 3.15—to the redemption of a great throng, from every kingdom, tribe, tongue, and nation, who will worship and serve God for all eternity.

We’re not told all that here. But we are told that this infant is to be the grandfather of David, the king, the sweet singer of Israel, whose Greater Son, we know, is the infinite kinsman redeemer, who was made in the likeness of men so that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.

Ruth is a small study of God’s work for us. “The Book of Ruth shows God as concerned not only for the welfare of one family—Naomi and Ruth—but for the welfare of all God’s people who would be blessed by David and by David’s Son, Jesus Christ. The participation of Ruth, the Moabitess, in the fufillment of God’s promises indicates that God’s salvation is for people of all nationalities” (HCBC).

“Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the LORD!”

* For this insight into the thematic development of Ruth I am indebted to the late Dr. Ron Horton, longtime professor of literature at Bob Jones University.

Photo by Paz Arando on Unsplash