Dan Olinger

"If the Bible is true, then none of our fears are legitimate, none of our frustrations are permanent, and none of our opposition is significant."

Dan Olinger

 

Retired Bible Professor,

Bob Jones University

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On God as Our Father, Part 5: Accountability

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Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Likeness | Part 3: Provision | Part 4: Oversight

A father’s oversight leads easily and directly to the final characteristic of fathers that Jesus teaches in his Sermon on the Mount.

As fathers pay attention to us, they also hold us accountable. When we occasionally (?!) engage in risky or outright harmful behavior, they step in, both to prevent injury and to teach us the importance of doing what older and wiser people tell us to do.

This brings us to the topic of authority, obedience, and discipline.

We live in an age when authority is often abused, and when pretenders to authority seek to abuse the compliant. I think it’s important to note that not all authority is pathological, and there is a healthy way to hold and exercise authority. A good father doesn’t view his authority as primarily about himself or his machismo; he uses his position of strength to guide his charges down a path that is in their own best interests—that will prevent physical injury or death, or negative social or psychological or spiritual consequences. And he does that gently, that’s in a way that is appropriate and healthy for the maturity level of the child. Further, he does it out of love for the child, not for the protection of his status or manhood.

In that light, we’re in a position to understand Jesus’ teaching toward the end of the Sermon that the kingdom of heaven is limited to “the one who does the will of my Father in heaven” (Mt 7.21).

God is not a bully, fearful that his authority will be questioned or eventually overridden. How can an omnipotent God be insecure? How can an omniscient God be fearful? Can I say something reverently? God is comfortable in his own skin. He has nothing to prove and no need for applause or encouragement. He calls for worship not because he needs the personal boost, but because worship is what most directly assures our personal growth and positive outcome; it’s in our best interest, and as our Creator, Father, and the one who loves us most, he is devoted to that outcome for us.

In a very real sense, God’s call for obedience is not a threat; it’s an invitation to joy and perfect fulfillment.

It’s an act of supreme love.

Even the necessary occasional chastening.

The Scripture affirms this repeatedly:

  • As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him (Ps 103.13)
  • For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” (Ro 8.15).
  • See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are (1J 3.1).

I have known many people who have grown up without a father. The consequences of that, both in personal pain and in frequent outcomes, is substantial. I have known some of them to find healing, hope, and even joy from finding a relationship with a heavenly Father who supplies what their earthly father did not.

I can testify that my heavenly Father has never mistreated or abused me; that he has ever watched out for my needs and supplied them consistently, completely, and abundantly—far more than I needed. And often in ways that I could not have imagined in my simple prayers.

How, then, do we respond to Him? As sons and daughters—with reverence, obedience, loyalty, and love, looking to and depending on Him for our provision. 

So.

Grace, mercy, and peace to you, my friends, from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. 

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On God as Our Father, Part 4: Oversight

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Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Likeness | Part 3: Provision

Our earthly fathers have duties that continue. One that surely comes to mind is oversight. That’s a duty of both parents—and older siblings as well—but again, fathers, because they usually are physically stronger than anyone else in a young family, are seen not only as providers but also as overseers, those who watch for the needs of the family (particularly physical and financial needs) and act to meet them when they arise.

Contrariwise, we don’t think much of a father who’s so wrapped up in his work, or the ball game, or the news, that his wife’s or child’s needs go unnoticed or unattended to.

A good Dad pays attention.

God is like that.

Jesus says, “Your Father … sees in secret” (Mt 6.18). And he’s not talking here about spying on you; he’s talking about seeing what good things you do and rewarding you for them. Dads watch for accomplishments, delight in them, and express praise.

Jesus continues the thought by adding that because your Father is paying attention, he also notices when you have a need (Mt 6.32). And because he’s your Father, he moves to meet that need.

In 1989 my wife and I, and our 12-month-old daughter, were traveling to Pennsylvania to spend Christmas with family. As was our practice, we split the 12-hour trip into two days for a more relaxing drive. We spent the night at a motel in southwestern Virginia, and Christmas Eve morning we set out to finish the trip.

It was unusually cold that morning—below zero Fahrenheit—and I was a bad father; it never occurred to me to check the antifreeze before starting out. If I had, I’d have seen that the radiator was frozen solid. A few miles up the road, as the system began to heat up, the lower radiator hose exploded. Steam was everywhere, and it was challenging to see to get the car safely off the interstate highway.

Pretty quickly I determined that it was the coolant system, not the engine. I knew we were just two or three miles from the next exit, and I figured that with the cold air, we might be able to make it there without coolant. Fired ‘er up and set off slowly, in the breakdown lane. When the engine temp began to rise, I stopped again and waited for it to cool down.

That worked twice, but the cold temperatures also cut down on the battery’s cranking power, and on the third try the engine wouldn’t crank.

Stuck by the side of the highway at 5 below. Because I hadn’t paid attention.

I marveled at how quickly we had gone from comfort and civilization to utter wilderness.

We sat for a while, hoping that a highway patrolman would come along, but there wasn’t much traffic, and soon the cold began to be a concern for us, with a 12-month-old in the car. I got out and flagged down a passing car, and an older couple gave me a ride to the exit.

There at that exit was an automotive repair shop. And they were open. On Christmas Eve. Which, that year, was a Saturday.

What are the chances?

And, believe it or not, they had a tow truck. So the driver and I hopped in and returned to the scene of my crime, and brought wife, baby, and car back to the shop. Thawed out the radiator, replaced the hose, and refilled it with the right concentration of antifreeze.

They didn’t take credit cards, and they didn’t take out-of-state checks. We weren’t carrying that much cash.

They took the check.

And a couple of hours after fearing for our lives, we were back on the road to Grandma’s house for Christmas.

Does God watch out for us, even when we don’t deserve it?

You bet he does.

Part 5: Accountability

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On God as Our Father, Part 3: Provision

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Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Likeness

What else does is God for us, because he is our Father?

I suppose the most obvious thing a father does for his family is to provide what they need. Often the first thing a wife will say to commend her husband is that “he is a good provider.” That’s expected in cultures all around the world. The father will see to it that his family has a place to live, and food to eat, and clothes to wear. And that makes sense: since the mother is typically tasked with the care of the children, and since, at least in cultures where most paid work requires physical labor, the father is the physically stronger of the couple, it falls to the father to “bring home the bacon.”

Our heavenly Father isn’t bound by either of those constraints, but he still provides for us his children, and abundantly. Jesus has already noted that he gives rain to the just and to the unjust (Mt 5.45), but that’s just the beginning. I’ve written before on the fact that everything we really need—both physical and spiritual—is free, thanks to God’s provision. But Jesus takes it beyond common grace.

He delights to give to his children, to meet their needs, and even to give them extra. Jesus tells us to just ask the Father, and he will give us what we need: “pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you” (Mt 6.6). Just earlier, he has said that if we make charitable contributions in secret, the Father will reward us (Mt 6.4). There are other references to the Father’s “reward” in this chapter (Mt 6.1, 18). And he knows what his children need even before they ask (Mt 6.8).

Then Jesus gives his disciples a pattern for daily prayer—what we’ve come to call “The Lord’s Prayer.” We call on our Father (Mt 6.9), and we ask him for “our daily bread” (Mt 6.11)—because even though our earthly father goes to work to bring home the bacon, his ability to do so—and our ability, once we’re working—comes from God, both in his giving of health and strength and in his providential direction.

Now Jesus uses an earthy illustration to set his point. Look at the lilies, he says; they don’t do anything to provide for themselves, yet the Father arrays them in clothing of unsurpassed beauty. Look at the birds; they do no agriculture whatsoever, but the Father sees that they always have food when they need it—seeds, berries, a worm or two. Even when nature is broken by sin, “red in tooth and claw,” as Tennyson put it, the creatures of the earth manage to survive and even thrive on the Father’s generous provision.

Jesus is using here a rhetorical device called an a fortiori argument, working from the weak to the strong. If the Father provides for birds and flowers, how much more will he provide for his actual children?

He makes the point again in the next chapter—

If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him! (Mt 7.11).

And it goes even further. If he will provide our temporal, physical needs, how much more the eternal, spiritual ones? He justifies us, declaring us to be perfect, as he is perfect (2Co 5.21); he sanctifies us, setting us aside as his special treasure (1P 2.9), and progressively conforming us to the character of his Son (2Co 3.18); and one day, no matter how far we are from the finish line of perfection, he will take us the rest of the way (1J 3.2), by his grace, because that’s what we need.

That’s what fathers do.

Part 4: Oversight | Part 5: Accountability

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On God as Our Father, Part 2: Likeness

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Part 1: Introduction

We’re surveying Jesus’ teaching about our Father God in the Sermon on the Mount, where there’s a cluster of references to the topic. We’ve noted that Jesus begins (Mt 5.16) with the almost off-handed comment, or assumption, that our purpose in life is to generate respect or honor for God as our Father.

The first chapter of the sermon includes a list of areas in which Jesus tells his hearers that they must do better than just what the Law of Moses required. He states his premise first: “unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5.20). And then he lists several examples:

  • Refraining from murder is not enough; you must refrain from even hating your brother (Mt 5.21-26).
  • Refraining from adultery is not enough; you must refrain from lust (Mt 5.27-30).
  • Following the legally prescribed procedure for divorce is not enough; you must remain united even through hard times (Mt 5.31-32).
  • Keeping your vows is not enough; you must keep your word so faithfully that vows aren’t even needed (Mt 5.33-37).
  • Limiting your vengeance to what is appropriate to the offense is not enough; you must “turn the other cheek” (Mt 5.38-42).
  • Loving your neighbor is not enough; you must love your enemy as well (Mt 5.43-48).

It’s in this last section that he invokes the fatherhood of God. He says that we should love our enemies “so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven” (Mt 5.45).

Now this sounds as though Jesus is placing a works requirement on our relationship with God: “if you want to be a child of God, you’re going to have to love your enemies.” But I don’t think the context supports that interpretation at all. He goes on to describe what we call “common grace”; God gives rain to everyone, whether they’re good to him or not. In other words, God loves his enemies, and it only makes sense that those with his DNA should be like him in that respect. The point is not that if you want to be in God’s family, you’d better love your enemies; the point is that those who are in God’s family logically ought to resemble him, and by loving your enemy, you demonstrate that you do. Being like God is not a condition for being his; it’s evidence that you already are his.

Jesus adds to his thought with a logical argument: why should you get credit for loving people who love you? That’s just natural impulse, something that everybody does; you’re not so special in doing that. But if you love people who don’t love you back, well, then, that’s something extraordinary, something supernatural, something divine. That’s something that shows you are influenced by something—Someone—that most people aren’t.

And so Jesus ends the chapter by telling us to “be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Mt 5.48).

Now, this clearly requires some explanation. You and I will never be as morally perfect as God is. The unanimous testimony of centuries of Christians who have tried desperately to love God and their neighbor and their enemy is that they just can’t do it—they fall short, no matter how hard they try.

But remember the context. Jesus is not saying, “If you want a relationship with me—and my Father—you’d better be good!” That’s impossible, and he knows it’s impossible. He’s just said that our righteousness is going to have to be greater than that of the scribes and Pharisees (Mt 5.20), and Jesus knew that in the minds of his hearers, nobody could be that righteous.

Jesus is demonstrating pedagogically what his Apostle Paul will later state directly: that the way to God is not in keeping the Law, for we all know that that’s impossible. The Law was good (Ro 7.12), but it was not intended to make us righteous (Ga 3.24); it was given to show us our sin, that we are not and cannot ever be righteous. And the Law, like everything else that God gives us, does its job exceedingly well.

The Law also teaches us that we need a substitute—a lamb. And Jesus is introduced by John the Baptist as “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (Jn 1.29). This Lamb will keep the Law in our place, and will die in our place, and his righteousness will be given freely to us (2Co 5.21).

And through his power, we can be perfect, even as our Father in heaven is perfect.

Sons and daughters are like their fathers. And so are we like Him.

Part 3: Provision | Part 4: Oversight | Part 5: Accountability

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On God as Our Father, Part 1: Introduction

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The Scripture uses a lot of metaphors to describe God’s relationship with his people; it’s almost as though that relationship is so rich, so round, so multifaceted, so complex that no single earthly relationship can picture it all. The one we think of the most, though—the one that Jesus begins his pattern prayer with—is “Father.”

It’s a term widely misunderstood, especially in that theological liberals frequently speak of the “universal fatherhood of God,” with the implication that all humans are brothers, and, further, that “we all worship the same God.” Given that the gods worshiped by various cultural groups—Jews, Muslims, Hindus, animists, Christians—have significantly different natures, that statement is illogical on its face.

Christians have frequently rejected this liberal tenet—the “universal fatherhood of God”—outright, because, well, that’s what you do with liberal ideas. But our responsibility isn’t to reject reactively any view of a heretical group, but to test it by the Scripture and to be guided to the scriptural truth.

Interestingly, there is a sense in which God is the Father of all in that he is the source of their life; he is their Creator. Paul endorses this idea by citing a classical Greek poet in his sermon at Mars Hill in Athens: “we are his offspring” (Acts 17.28, citing Aratus, Phaenomena, line 5, referring to Zeus). The idea that we are all God’s created offspring is certainly biblical.

But typically when we speak of God as our Father, we’re speaking of the narrower sense in which God usually uses it—of those who are His children through the new birth, whom He has adopted into His family. 

There are about 100 passages in the New Testament that speak of God as our Father. There’s a cluster of them—by my count, about 1/6 of the total—in the Sermon on the Mount. Further, most of the important applications that the Bible makes concerning the fatherhood of God are condensed into this one sermon. It’s worth our time to take a few posts to meditate on what Jesus has to say here about this topic.

Those of us who grew up in church probably noticed in our childhood Bibles that there’s a section of Matthew where the red letters fill whole pages. There are actually two, if you include the Olivet Discourse in Matthew 24-25, but the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5-7 is longer. Bible students have long recognized the unique power of this sermon, from the Beatitudes with which it opens to the Parable of the Wise and Foolish Builders with which it ends. The judgment of its first hearers is certainly accurate: “[Jesus] taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes” (Mt 7.29).

What does Jesus have to say about the relationship between us and our Heavenly Father? In what ways is God like a Father to us? Perhaps surprisingly, the teaching seems to be organized logically as Jesus progresses through the Sermon; if we survey his uses of the word father in order, they seem to make a logical outline.

His first reference to the Father is in Matthew 5.16: “let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”

In what is almost a casual reference, Jesus assumes that our primary goal in life is to behave in such a way that others will “give glory to” our Father, or see him as worthy of respect, exaltation, even worship. Hot on the heels of the Beatitudes, which are bestowals of blessings on us, he assumes that after all, we are not the center of the universe, and that our comfort and blessing should not be our primary motivation.

We’re here to generate profound respect for someone else.

In most cultures this fits well with the concept of fatherhood. Your father is someone you respect, desire to please, and seek to obey.

Of course, all earthly fathers are flawed; none are worthy of worship, and there are many examples of fathers who are not even worthy of respect.

But God is the perfect example of fatherhood; he does all things well.

He has been a perfect Father to me and to you, and so we start with respect, with glory.

There’s much more to follow.

Part 2: Likeness | Part 3: Provision | Part 4: Oversight | Part 5: Accountability

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Unstable World, Stable God, Part 10: Victory

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Part 1: It’s True | Part 2: Jesus Included | Part 3: No Need to Grow | Part 4: No Need to Aspire  | Part 5: No Greater Force | Part 6: No Decay | Part 7: Trustworthiness | Part 8: Mercy | Part 9: Confidence

Some final thoughts.

Because God never changes, he will never go away. His enemies will never be able to defeat him or even diminish his power and presence in the world.

He wins.

That’s good news. Assuming, of course, you’re on his side.

So let me muse on that a bit.

God does have enemies. Even aside from the evil supernatural powers, there are people who reject him. They disagree with how he runs the world; they refuse his word; they deny his power. I know some people who find that the Almighty falls short of their supposedly high moral standards.

They have a right to do that, of course—a right they have, ironically, because they were endowed with it by their Creator. For the life of me, though, I can’t figure out why they should think that way. Maybe it makes no sense to me because God has been unfailingly kind and gracious to me for nearly
seven decades. Or maybe because I managed to make a convoluted mess of my life in just a few months at the age of merely 17. But I’ve noticed that God has been gracious to them, too, and many of them seem not to realize it. Many of them are awash in messy lives, as I was, but they illogically and absurdly blame God for the mess, even though it’s traceable directly to decisions they
have made.

The Scripture says that “the way of transgressors is hard” (Pr 13.15). Even that fact is an act of God’s grace; he has designed the universe so that if you choose a path for which you were not designed, circumstances will tend to point you to a better one. Nature is not kind to foolishness. God is good that way, among many, many others.

Solomon, who made that comment, made another one as well:

Whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it. God has done it, so that people fear before him (Ec 3.14).

The unchangeableness of God’s person and work are not good news to those who choose to oppose him. They have good reason to be afraid.

But here’s the thing.

It doesn’t have to be that way.

No one needs to be God’s enemy. No one needs to be afraid. No one needs to find himself in the vortex, the maelstrom, of his life’s being dragged down into the abyss.

God doesn’t want to be the enemy of anyone in his image. He takes no pleasure in their destruction. In fact, he has done all that is necessary for those who reject him to be delivered from their frustration, their confusion, their peril. Every person whom he has delivered was his declared enemy when the delivery was planned and then accomplished.

And it’s free—to us, at least. It’s a simple turn—a turning of the back toward sin and the face toward the Son, the Deliverer. “I don’t want that anymore; I want you instead.”

The technical terms for that change are repentance and faith. Together they constitute conversion.

And for those of us who have trusted and made that turn to the unchanging God, everything has changed. There’s no reason for fear anymore—fear of God’s wrath, fear of life circumstances, fear of the unknown. The fear has been driven out by love (1J 4.18), and the result has been joy.

God’s purposes stand (Pr 19.21). God wins. His promises are fulfilled, to the last one, and forever.

“I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, “who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty” (Re 1.8).

Everything in this world is unstable, shakable, unreliable.

Come rest in the almighty, unchangeable God.

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Unstable World, Stable God, Part 9: Confidence

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Part 1: It’s True | Part 2: Jesus Included | Part 3: No Need to Grow | Part 4: No Need to Aspire  | Part 5: No Greater Force | Part 6: No Decay | Part 7: Trustworthiness | Part 8: Mercy

There’s another way we benefit because God doesn’t change.

Back before my Dad was saved—even before he was a Dad—a door-to-door salesman came by. When Dad answered his knock, the salesman had a large glass kitchen mixing bowl in each hand, and, without saying a word, he bashed them together vigorously. They didn’t break.

Dad bought a set.

That evening a bunch of his siblings came over, and they were playing cards and drinking beer, and generally behaving as they did in those days. As the evening went on, and Dad—in his own estimation—began thinking more creatively, he remembered those unbreakable bowls and thought he’d entertain the group with a demonstration. Without saying anything to anyone, he got up, went into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl in each hand, swept into the doorway, and cried, “Hey, everybody! Look at this!”

He bashed the two bowls together, and they shattered into a million pieces.

The fact that none of the spectators knew that the bowls weren’t supposed to break just adds to the magnificence of the scene.

Do you think my Dad got a refund for those bowls?

That salesman was long gone.

Years later, my Dad told me, “Buy from Sears. They’ll always be there if you have a problem with what you bought.”

Well, as it turns out, Dad was wrong about Sears too, but the principle is sound.

Deal with people who won’t disappear when you need them.

Now, the story’s ridiculous, and I considered not using it in this context. But I think it makes the point in a memorable way.

The counsel of the Lord stands forever,
the plans of his heart to all generations (Ps 33.11).

God doesn’t change.

And because he doesn’t change,

  • he will always be there;
  • his attitude toward you will always be steady;
  • his promises will always be kept;
  • his Word will always be true;
  • and his plans for you will certainly be fulfilled.

Now, what’s the only natural response to that kind of faithfulness?

Confidence.

It’s the infinite, perfect analog to the confidence of a man who’s worked for the same people at the same company for 40 years, or a man who’s been married to the same woman for 50.

It’s the settled state of knowing that this relationship is good, and that it will last—that things will be as they should be, now and forever.

The Hebrew Bible calls that concept shalom—“peace.”

In his first epistle, the Apostle John talks a lot about confidence, or knowing, or having assurance. Many commentators have noted that he bases our confidence on a tripod of factors:

  • obedience (1J 2.3)
  • love (1J 3.14)
  • the witness of the Spirit (1J 3.24).

All of those are things that God works in us—and he works those things in us because he is unchanging in his love for us, his forgiveness of us, and his promises to us.

In June 1944, the Allied armies began their assault on Hitler’s “Fortress Europe” by getting boots on the ground at the beaches of Normandy. “D-Day,” they called it.

From that moment, the outcome of the war was never in doubt. Oh, there was a lot of fighting yet to be done—another year in Europe—and some of the fiercest fighting of the war, including the infamous Battle of the Bulge. But with Allied soldiers, and their equipment, on European soil, Hitler could hold out only so long. It was just a matter of time.

In the person of his Son, God has entered enemy territory and declared his intentions. His plans will never change, and his power—unlike that of the Allied armies—is unlimited.

Your circumstances may be dark, even terrifying. But God is directing your steps according to his perfect plan, and nothing will deflect or deter him. You can endure in the confidence that comes from an unchanging God.

Part 10: Victory

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Unstable World, Stable God, Part 8: Mercy

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Part 1: It’s True | Part 2: Jesus Included | Part 3: No Need to Grow | Part 4: No Need to Aspire  | Part 5: No Greater Force | Part 6: No Decay | Part 7: Trustworthiness

There’s another way we benefit because God doesn’t change.

We noted last time that God keeps his promises to us, because (among other things) he’s never surprised by circumstances that prevent him from keeping them.

There’s another side to that principle, one that has benefited us infinitely and continues to benefit us every day.

Sometimes other people surprise us. We do nice things to them, and they take no notice—or worse, they begin to expect those things. They don’t respond in kind. And they leave us wondering, “What is wrong with people like that? How can they return evil for good? Well, see if I ever do anything for them …”

That’s a typical human response. Tit for tat. Eye for an eye. Don’t cry for people who won’t cry for you.

And in a way, there’s a certain kind of justice in that. He mistreated me; he gets what he deserves. What goes around comes around.

Karma.

We excuse ourselves by calling it justice, but in fact we’ve changed. We were inclined to do the right thing, to be kind, to be generous, to be caring. And a circumstance—the way we were treated—changed us. Now we’re not so inclined.

That change of attitude and inclination tells us something. It tells us that our original motives weren’t philanthropic or altruistic at all. We were expecting payback.

We were motivated not by love for our neighbor, but by love for ourselves.

God’s not that way. At all.

He is motivated, as always, by his own nature—in this case, his nature to be perfectly, consistently, eternally, selflessly loving.

He treats us well. And by “us,” I mean all of us. He placed our first parents into a world perfectly designed for them. And thousands of years later, he sends rain to the just and also to the unjust (Mt 5.45). He gives us—all—everything we need, for free.

How did we respond to his kindness? We turned on him like utter ingrates, rebelling against him, rejecting his offer of relationship, denying his goodness, insisting that we were wiser than he.

If you and I were God—I speak as a fool—how would we have responded in that situation?

Ah, but that’s the difference, you see. We are changed by our circumstances, slaves to our own limited knowledge, victims of surprise.

God is not. He is not surprised; he is not changed.

He knew, when he made us, how we would turn out. He loved us before we rebelled, and he loves us after. On the day he made our first father, he committed to an eternal relationship with us—committed, in fact, to becoming one of us, forever, offering himself in mortal flesh as the infinite and morally perfect sacrifice for our sin.

We would strike out at those who mistreat us, and do it in the name of Justice.

He withholds that judgment, taking it upon himself, so that Justice is done, but not at our expense.

He withholds from us the evil consequences that we justly deserve.

The technical term for that is Mercy.

And he offers that gift to anyone who wants it. For free.

It comes to us, because our God does not change, even in the
face of our rebellion.

Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow (Jam 1.17).

The gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable (Ro 11.29).

God, desiring even more to show to the heirs of the promise the unchangeableness of His purpose, interposed with an oath, 18 so that by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have taken refuge would have strong encouragement to take hold of the hope set before us. 19 This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast and one which enters within the veil, 20 where Jesus has entered as a forerunner for us, having become a high priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek (He 6.17-20).

Part 9: Confidence | Part 10: Victory

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Unstable World, Stable God, Part 7: Trustworthiness

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Part 1: It’s True | Part 2: Jesus Included | Part 3: No Need to Grow | Part 4: No Need to Aspire  | Part 5: No Greater Force | Part 6: No Decay 

Because God doesn’t change, certain benefits accrue to his people.

I’d like to begin with the obvious observation that an unchanging God is trustworthy, or reliable. He tells the truth. He doesn’t lie, or even change his mind. And his word comes true; he never fails in a promise or a prediction.

God is not a man, that He should lie,
Nor a son of man, that He should repent;
Has He said, and will He not do it?
Or has He spoken, and will He not make it good? (Nu 23.19).

The Glory of Israel will not lie or change His mind; for He is not a man that He should change His mind (1S 15.29).

The Lord of hosts has sworn saying, “Surely, just as I have intended so it has happened, and just as I have planned so it will stand” (Is 14.24).

“I, the Lord, have spoken; it is coming and I will act. I will not relent, and I will not pity and I will not be sorry; according to your ways and according to your deeds I will judge you,” declares the Lord God (Ezk 24.14).

Sceptics have often observed that the Scripture seems to contradict itself on this point. Sometimes it says that God doesn’t change his mind (“repent”) and sometimes it says that he does.

I won’t dispute that. That’s what the various verses say. But I note something else: three of the allegedly contradictory verses occur in the same passage, 1 Samuel 15. Specifically, in verse 11 God himself says that he has repented; then in verse 29 Samuel says that God (“the Glory of Israel”) will not change his mind; then in verse 35 the author says that God (Yahweh) repented.

Now, what are the odds that the author of Samuel was so incompetent, so inattentive, so stupid, that he made a boneheaded mistake like that, yet produced overall a book of such high historical and literary quality?

I can only conclude that he interplayed these terms intentionally—similarly to what Solomon did in Proverbs 26.4-5, placing two directly contradictory statements right next to each other, to make the reader stop and think: “When should I answer a fool? And when should I not?”

So what is the author of Samuel doing here? In what sense has a God who cannot change or lie or be surprised “changed his mind” with reference to Saul? What is the author communicating to us by this literary device?

This post isn’t about 1 Samuel 15; we can work through that application another time. My only point here is that God is not the sort of person whose thoughts, plans, and promises are unreliable. He doesn’t change; he keeps his promises, and you can trust him with your life on this earth and your life into eternity. You may not understand his purposes during the difficult times, or his reasons for choosing this tactic or that outcome, but you can be sure that he won’t say one thing and do another, or make a promise he cannot or will not keep.

Our most practical response to this truth is to make a point of hearing and remembering his promises. As you read your Bible, highlight the promises, particularly the ones that are given to God’s people in general. (When the ascended Jesus tells Saul in Acts 9.6 that someone will tell him what he’s to do, that’s a promise, all right, but not one made to us.)

Think through these promises, carefully considering how they can be fulfilled in your life, praying for God’s wisdom in discerning when the fulfillments come, and living in gratitude for those fulfillments. God’s people don’t simply rejoice at occasions of “good luck”; they recognize the personal source of those blessings, and they consciously allow their gratitude to strengthen and deepen their love for, and trust in, the Giver of all good gifts—and Keeper of all his promises.

Part 8: Mercy | Part 9: Confidence | Part 10: Victory

Photo by Taylor Deas-Melesh on Unsplash

Unstable World, Stable God, Part 6: No Decay 

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Part 1: It’s True | Part 2: Jesus Included | Part 3: No Need to Grow | Part 4: No Need to Aspire  | Part 5: No Greater Force 

There’s one more cause of change that I’d like to consider.

For several summers I took teams of students on short-term mission trips in Africa. Several of those trips were to the same place, an orphanage just south of Mwanza, Tanzania; and for the same purpose, to tutor the children during their school break, to ensure that they didn’t fall behind in their studies. I was happy to take along any students with character, but I was especially looking for Education majors, because they had some learning about learning, and they always did a good job with the children.

On one of those trips, I saw one of the guys—Matt was his name—with a group of 5 or 6 children down by the outdoor fireplace we called the incinerator, where we burned the burnable trash. They had taken a load down there, and he had lit it up. He was explaining what was happening—oxidation, of a rapid sort. The compounds in the trash were chemically uniting—or something—with oxygen in the air, and the output was gases and particulate matter, a different chemical form.

A few minutes later the group was up by the choo—that’s “cho,” like “slow,” and means “toilet.” He had the metal door open and was pointing out the rust, which in a few places had eaten all the way through the door. Same process, he said. Oxidation. But this is much slower; you can’t really see it happening, but it is.

That swingset I bought for my girls when they were little has long since become random clumps of iron oxide and a few chips of paint.

Everything in the world is decaying. Any walk in the woods will confirm that. There’s a cycle of growth, death, decay, and rebirth all throughout nature.

We see it in people as well as things. You and I have been dying since the day we were born—and technically even before. At any given moment we don’t feel the aging process, but when we see a friend after a long absence, we can’t but notice. Going to a high-school reunion, as I did in October, will impress that truth on you.

Our possessions are on a determined course to the landfill, and we are on a determined course to the grave.

I don’t say that to depress anyone; it’s the cycle of life, where new life comes from death, in both the physical and the spiritual worlds. For believers in Christ, the grave is no threat, for it has no victory (1Co 15.53-57).

I recount all this in order to make the point that none of it applies to God.

He doesn’t age; he doesn’t weaken; he doesn’t die; he doesn’t decay.

I find it interesting that even when Jesus died, his body was not allowed to decay. His friend Lazarus’s body had begun to decay after 4 days in the tomb (Jn 11.39), but Jesus was in his tomb only for parts of 3 days. A few weeks later, in his sermon at Pentecost, Peter noted that Jesus’ body had not decayed (Ac 2.31), and he noted that this fact had been predicted a thousand years earlier (Ac 2.27).

No, God doesn’t age, despite the passage of time. At the age of infinity (yes, I know that statement is technically problematic; work with me here), he is as strong and clear-headed as he ever was, and he always will be.

He doesn’t change.

That means that you don’t have to wonder how he’ll interact with you, or whether he’s still good, or whether his posture toward you will change, or whether he’s getting cranky. You don’t need to walk on eggshells. He is always great, and he is always, only good.

Beginning next time, we’ll expand on these thoughts and delineate some consequences and applications of God’s immutability.

Part 7: Trustworthiness | Part 8: Mercy | Part 9: Confidence | Part 10: Victory

Photo by Taylor Deas-Melesh on Unsplash