The Pursuit of Gentleness, Part 2: What's That on Your Face

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     In case you missed it, the sign at the Lowe’s checkout counter reads:

“Thank you for treating our associates with respect. Profanity, verbal threats or violence towards our associates will not be tolerated. Thanks for helping us make Lowe’s an enjoyable place for all.”

     Whew, that was a close one! I was just about to launch into a verbal tirade. Lots of profanity. Threats of extreme violence. And if that didn’t get me what I wanted in about 2.5 seconds, I would have jumped the counter and opened up a whole new can of Whoop-de-Do on the young man at the register. But once I saw the sign, I was defused. Everything changed. I paid for the materials and went about my day. Crisis (and jail time) averted. That’s what signs do: they make people do the right thing. Without signs, there’s no telling what mess humanity might be in. Thank goodness for signs.

     I’m hoping you’ve caught on by now: everything above is total fiction – except for the sign. The sign is real, and lives, eye level, at the Pro Desk checkout. But it wasn’t the sign that restrained me from violence. Frankly, the thought of violence hadn’t entered my head until I saw the sign. Then, something overrode it. What might that have been?

     You might recall from our last letter that we’re working on a hypothesis, as follows:

“Every relational boo-boo in human history can be traced to a deficiency of gentleness.”

     We gathered evidence from Genesis 3, where Adam, instead of going with the gentleness that would have benefitted himself and his bride, chose to spin up the original Blame Game. Genesis 3 also records that it didn’t go well for him… or anyone else. In the very next chapter, and the very next generation, is further evidence:

Cain spoke to Abel his brother. And when they were in the field, Cain rose up against his brother Abel and killed him (Genesis 4:8).

    Theologians, as well as regular ol’ Christians, have been trying for centuries to figure out why the two brothers had such radically different reactions to their encounter with God. For what it’s worth, my leading theory is that God’s acceptance of Abel’s sacrifice and rejection of Cain’s was designed to trigger something that was already inside each of them.

     Without any instruction (that we know of) on what would constitute an acceptable sacrifice, how would either of the brothers know what to bring? The difference, I’ll suggest, has little to do with what they brought, and much to do with their heart’s posture as they brought it. Abel brought his sacrifice in faith, expecting God to have regard for him. He brought the best of his goods, trusting that God would restore the best in return. On the other hand, Cain brought his gift grudgingly. His speech and actions, once he realized that God had no regard for his sacrifice, bear this out. He was very angry. He argued with God. The only solution he could come up with was murder.

     If Cain had had a heart inclined to gentleness, how might the story have been different? Without doing any harm to Scripture, let’s imagine for a moment. Instead of becoming angry, Cain might have said, “Oh, Lord God, I didn’t bring my gift in faith like my brother did. Will you change me, please?”

     I’m not a great student of the original Bible languages, but a quick check of a good study Bible shows me something intriguing in the encounter between Cain and God:

So Cain was very angry, and his face fell. The Lord said to Cain, “Why are you angry, and why has your face fallen? If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is contrary to you, but you must rule over it” (Genesis 4:5-7).

    The intriguing part has to do with Cain’s face falling. We get the metaphor: his face is downcast. He’s pouting. But where most English translations give “will you not be accepted,” a literal translation of the Hebrew reads “will there not be a lifting up of your face?”

     Who is the lifter of faces? The answer comes from our key verse in this series of letters:

Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near (Philippians 4:5).

     Within every human heart there is a bit of Cain. Or a lot. Even the most dedicated Christians – with a regenerated soul (see Titus 3:5) and a heart of flesh to replace a heart of stone (see Ezekiel 36:26) – deal with a measure of Cain-ish-ness inside. Allowing one’s face to be lifted up to the lifter of faces makes the Cain nature diminish rather than flourish. Anger and harshness are exposed for what they are: bad ideas. Gentleness comes to the fore, because the Lord is near.

     There’s not a sign big enough, or worded strongly enough, to squelch the Cain nature inside. Meanwhile, any Sunday school veteran who can recite the attributes of the fruit of the Spirit will tell you that gentleness figures prominently on that list (see Galatians 5:22-23). No Spirit, no gentleness – only a tense waiting for the fuse to burn down. As Jesus so famously said: “It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all” (John 6:63).

     The life of faith, as we navigate this walk-around world, has mostly to do with accepting Jesus’ help and going with the leading of the Holy Spirit. The largeness of Abel’s faith wasn’t fully expounded until deep into the New Testament:

By faith Abel offered to God a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain, through which he was commended as righteous, God commending him by accepting his gifts. And through his faith, though he died, he still speaks (Hebrews 11:4).

     From such a heart posture, gentleness comes naturally – no sign required. As a bonus, the associates at Lowe’s will love us for it.

     

Grace and Peace (and lifted faces),

 

John

The Pursuit of Gentleness, Part 1: Life of Christ

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     I’m writing to you today on a topic I have no business writing about. In fact, I’m so bad at it that I’ll be writing on the same topic for two more letters after this one. There is no natural tendency of my own that would make me good at the subject at hand. Therefore, I write.

     Good sense is urging you to bail on this letter before it gets any further out of hand. I would appeal to your love and our common bond in the body of Christ to stick with it. At best, we’ll be cooperating with the Holy Spirit. At worst, you will have wasted an 8-minute read.

     To get us started, here is the Scripture to be dealt with:

    Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near (Philippians 4:5 NIV).

     And my soul says, “Good luck with that.” The world is a prickly place. Eight billion people, eight billion agendas. Agendas collide at an un-trackable pace. And collisions rarely – oh, so rarely – produce gentleness. Unless the Creator’s grand plan is to provide each of his kids with his or her own planet (like Beta fish, each with its own bowl), the collisions could extend into eternity. Not a happy prospect. Or perhaps there’s a better way.

     If you know me at all, you know I’m a dedicated fan of scientific method. Be methodical with the evidence, rather than haphazard. The evidence won’t lie. Or, as the Bible commentator Matthew Henry once wrote: “The practical love of truth is the most powerful preservative from error and delusion.” For the love of truth, let’s start with a hypothesis:

     “Every relational boo-boo in human history can be traced to a deficiency of gentleness.”

     Scientific method dictates that we gather evidence now. The evidence may support the hypothesis; the evidence may work to dismantle the hypothesis. The love of truth will push us on, regardless. Where shall we start? Well, gee, I would rather write about your lack of gentleness than mine.  (Hmm, this could be a collision in the making.) Tell ya what: let’s rewind to the beginning of human history and see what evidence is to be found there.

     (The Lord God) said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten of the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” The man said, “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate” (Genesis 3:11-12 ESV).

     Instead of reflexively blaming his wife, Adam might have realized they were both in a heap of trouble, and since the Lord God was addressing him (“you” is singular here in the Hebrew), he might have asked the Lord God for help, which would have benefitted his bride as well. But there was something in him, something pervasive and self-serving, that made him go with harshness, blaming not only his helpmate but also the God who gave her to him. On that first nugget of evidence, lets see if we can identify what was in Adam (and might be at work in us).

     The long ago Bible teacher Oswald Chambers described two competing paradigms within each living Christian. One he called “the essential sweetness of the Son of God”; the other is designated “the essential irritation of myself apart from Him.” (If you care to see the terms in context, they’re in his devotional classic My Utmost for His Highest at the May 14 installment.) If we trust in God’s work of redemption and sanctification in us, we will also trust that the essential sweetness of Jesus is the stronger of the two, by far. But if we’re honest with ourselves, we have to admit that the essential irritation lives closer to the surface.

     The question is: Which one will prevail? The answer is: Both, at separate times. The goal – well, I sure hope it’s our goal – is to have the essential sweetness of Jesus prevail more often. By way of introducing this series of letters, I would have us consider one key thought: The very life of Christ is in every Christian. Not just a knowledge of Christ or a resemblance to him, but his very life. It would take a much longer series of letters than this one to call up every biblical reinforcement on the life of the begotten Son in every adopted son and daughter of God. So let’s go with some of the low-hanging fruit:

    I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me (Galatians 2:20).

    For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears… (Colossians 3:3-4a, emphasis added).

    …the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory (Colossians 1:27).

     Apart from embracing the very life of Christ in us, I have no sweet clue as to how to keep the “essential irritation” from being the defining characteristic of our lives. Suppression only works until the lid blows off – meaning that it doesn’t work at all.

     Next time, we’ll gather more evidence to test our hypothesis. Meanwhile, each of us can gather evidence from our daily interactions. All the while, let’s remember: Let your gentleness be evident to all, the Scripture says. And it goes on to say, The Lord is near.

     How much nearer could the Lord be than in?

  Grace and Peace (inward and outward),

 John    

Knothole

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Good ol’ Jeremiah Burroughs – remember him? Of course not. He lived some 400 years ago. Didn’t leave any universities bearing his name. Just a circuit preacher who wrote a few books, got himself in trouble with the establishment once in a while. Fell off his horse one day. Died of complications from his injuries, forty-some years old.

     It’s not exactly the story you would write for yourself, is it? And yet, among the books he left behind is one titled The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment. Pretty ambitious, huh? Wishful thinking? Having read the book, I don’t think so. Contentment is a jewel, and rare indeed, but Burroughs makes a compelling case for pursuing it. The standout line: “A heavenly conversation is the way to contentment.”

     Burroughs was convinced that Christians don’t talk about/think about heaven enough. Little brothers and sisters of Jesus could encourage one another to a much greater degree if we would remind each other of where we’re headed.

    Long after Burroughs, in the Nineteenth Century, the game of baseball was invented. Long before the Nineteenth Century had passed into the history books, the game of baseball had been monetized, beginning with our hometown team, the Cincinnati Red Stockings. Fences went up. No good selling tickets if there are no fences. But not all could afford tickets, so some, mostly kids, would find knotholes in the fence and watch the game, one eye at a time. Not content to simply watch, the kids would find an empty sandlot and imitate what they had seen. Knothole League Baseball was born.

     At the moment, there’s a fence between mortal Christians and heaven, a shabby construct of sin and separation. On the other side, we hear of the cheering and glory, of saints and elders and angels caught up in praise. On the other side, nothing subtracts from perfect contentment. From the other side – we take it on faith – our King will come in power, and it’ll be Game Over for any who oppose him. The other side. Then. Not now.

     But when the Father and Son collaborated to give the Holy Spirit in mass quantity, the knots fell out. From Pentecost onward there have been innumerable knotholes, through which heaven has been… if not visible, at the very least perceivable. Not a front row seat by any means, but the best view available in this age. This side. Now. Not then.

     Step up to the knothole, will ya? You gotta see this! And then, how ‘bout a pickup game?

 …when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit (2Corinthians 3:16-18).

     When Burroughs wrote “a heavenly conversation is the way to contentment,” maybe he could just as well have said “toward” contentment. I don’t think he meant to put forth the notion that perfect contentment is attainable on this side of the fence. But I do think he would agree that the fence wasn’t meant to stand forever. The first of its failings, the portent of its falling, is already plainly visible.

 Grace and Peace (sufficient for where we are),

 John

Do-Gooders, Part 4: Animated by the Holy Spirit

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     In our last letter, I left you in suspense – not a cliffhanger exactly, but an unfinished train of thought. I had said that, in doing good works, there is an essential element, the Go/or/No-Go of every good work. Are you ready for the reveal?

    On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and cried out, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” Now this he said about the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive, for as yet the Spirit had not been given, because Jesus was not yet glorified (John 7:37-39).

     How many good reasons are there for doing good? Hard to say, but we know there are many. How many bad reasons are there for doing good? Again, hard to say, but experience tells me that there are about as many bad reasons as good ones. We could begin to sort through them, checking our motives, comparing our works with others. We could try to gauge the effectiveness of our efforts. Here’s a better method: to be animated by God the Holy Spirit. That’s what Jesus was getting at. These are the rivers of living waters he spoke of.

     Every Christian has the Holy Spirit living within – some way, somewhere, somehow. Just a nibble of Scripture evidence comes from 1Corinthians 12:13…

    For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit.

    From the same chapter comes the clearly defined reason for every spiritual gift…

To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good (verse 7).

     Hey, Christian, the indwelling Holy Spirit is the life in Christ in you…  the mystery hidden for ages and generations but now revealed to his saints. To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory (Colossians 1:26-27). To be animated by the Holy Spirit is to act on the life of Christ in you.

     Not to say that non-Christians can’t do good; indeed, it happens every day. But I see a lot of frustration, especially in the public sector: there’s never enough money/time/people/programs to meet the needs. And among Christians who are not animated by the Holy Spirit as much as they could be, I see the same frustration for all the same reasons. The difference, of course, is that Christians have the ability to act on the life of Christ within them.

     I used to think Christians had to be poked and prodded into doing good works. After much poking/prodding, I see more clearly now: make a few opportunities (and eliminate a few distractions), and the regenerated souls of my brothers and sisters will rise to the occasion. It might not be in coordinated, quantifiable ways, but it’ll happen. Probably the best strategy for me, at this stage-and-age of life, is to recommend reliance and trust in those rivers of living waters. Consulting with Holy Spirit will sort the motives for us, and will lead us to the one mission-critical question in the consideration of any potential good work:

     Is there a future in it?

     Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up (Galatians 6:7-9).

     One phrase from that passage gets more air time than most of the others: let us not grow weary of doing good. I can tell you for a fact: doing good, without considering whether there’s a future in it, is wearying. It will leave the do-gooder, even the Christian do-gooder, bone tired and gut-level frustrated. (But) the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life.

     I won’t claim to have sorted out all the future-less works from the future-full. I’ve gone into some good works believing there was a future in it, only to find out, um, not so much. Conversely, I’ve been surprised at the far-reaching effects of others. I’m counting on getting a thorough debrief in heaven. Meanwhile, here’s what I, and every Christian, can do: a quiet, reasoned conversation with God the Holy Spirit – the life of Christ in us, the hotline to the one who sits at the right hand of the throne of God – will lead us to the one essential question, which is, again, “Is there a future in this good work I’m considering?” If that question is too daunting, I can recommend a few others that lend evidence:

·         Will God be glorified?

·         Is human dignity being built up?

·         Is the person I serve being invited into the life of Christ?

·         Will the person being helped, in turn, be put in a position to help others?

     In the mind of God, there is a To-Do list for each of his children – For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do (Ephesians 2:10). We may safely assume that every item on the list is good and worthwhile. The happy news is that, through the counsel of the Holy Spirit, we can begin to understand what’s on the list… and what’s not.

     Let’s wrap up the Do-Gooders series of letters with a prayer:

“Lord, increase our faith. We want to trust, more, in the leading of your Holy Spirit. We want to do good and not grow weary. Bring glory to yourself and blessing to others. May your kingdom come, in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  Grace and Peace (and plenty to share),

 John

 

Do-Gooders, Part 3: Command and Encourage

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     The Christian church is being remade. At this moment, there is a reshaping of Christian life and service that closely resembles the original shaping of the First Century church. Lately, I’ve been privileged to gain a fresh perspective on the church’s role in the world – in particular, along the lines of social justice – and I’m eager to share it with you in this third installment of the “Do-Gooders” series of letters titled “Command and Encourage.”

     A few of you know that, in addition to being a pastor at Cobblestone, I’m also an elected official in a local government body. If you didn’t know, my feelings are not hurt. It’s very, very local. Low-key, as we say. But local as the position is, it has given me a lens to see the similarities and differences in church and government when it comes to supporting people who can’t quite support themselves. As a starting point, I’ll use a short quote from Jesus to begin laying out what’s the same and what’s not.

     “For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them.” (Mark 14:7). There are basically two ways to act on this statement, and the church and government have each had both.  

     The earliest church took Jesus’ words to mean that all the poor were to be served all the time, no matter how many or how great the need. Not a bad interpretation, but also not a workable one. In Jerusalem, the home of the very first Christian church, the Apostles soon found themselves overrun by the needs. They made some adjustments. Christians sold their possessions and gave to the needy. But it still wasn’t enough, especially once the Judean famine took hold in the fourth decade of the First Century.

     Government has had a similar experience. In the fourth decade of the Twentieth Century, it decided to eliminate the possibility of any citizens being totally destitute, through a project called The New Deal. For a while the math worked. And then it didn’t. Particular needs gave rise to particular agencies. More needs, more agencies. Supported populations grew in relation to working populations. By default, the only foreseeable plan is to carry the project as public debt.

     As with most worthwhile undertakings based on pure motives, if it doesn’t work, the human reaction is to make a hard turn, driven by frustration, and slam into the opposite extreme. Meeting all the needs is seen as equivalent to holding the ocean back with a broom, so why even try? In the early church, Christians – now scattered throughout the known world after persecution broke out in Jerusalem – had developed a pattern of hoarding wealth. In James’ letter, which was probably the earliest to go out to the twelve tribes in the Dispersion (1:1), he sternly addressed and denounced the economic, social, and even spiritual barriers set up by the rich against the poor. In the eleventh chapter of First Corinthians, Paul blasted the idle rich for showing up early at the love feasts to drink too much wine and eat the best food. In government, officeholders are often elected on promises to slash entitlement programs. Efforts that would leave legitimately disadvantaged humans out in the cold are met with vocal approval by some members of the public, and the tacit approval of others.

     So where do we stand now, the church and government? In the same place, basically, torn between the two extremes. Among Christians and within government, it’s a tug-of-war with contenders of equal strength at the far ends of a very long rope. There’s some see-ing and some saw-ing, but no real progress.

     Unlike government, the church should know better. And we have. And then we forgot. The purpose of this letter, from this word forward (and likely into the next edition), is to recall the First Century mandate and regain the mission as Jesus intended it.

     Work is a basic human dignity, a basic pride in being made in God’s image, a basic trust that we are co-creators with him. Serving the needy – “do(ing) good for them,” as Jesus said – has to involve meeting the need for dignity. Without that, all the programs and agencies and food banks in the world will eventually fail. Unless the building up of human dignity is the basis for every relief effort, all the work of every Do-Gooder – Christian-faith-based or otherwise – will come to frustration. And the needy, rather than being helped, will ultimately be harmed.

     One of the Apostles, namely Paul, traveled a lot more than the others. He sought out the scattered Christians and helped them establish cohesive assemblies: churches. In at least three major cities – Ephesus, Corinth, and Thessalonica – he encountered believers who were taking advantage of the generosity of their brothers and sisters in Christ. The situation was unsustainable. It would take the full body of believers to build up those whose dignity was being degraded. Here is some of what he wrote to the Thessalonians:

    ⁶ Now we command you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you keep away from any brother who is walking in idleness and not in accord with the tradition that you received from us. ⁷ For you yourselves know how you ought to imitate us, because we were not idle when we were with you, ⁸ nor did we eat anyone's bread without paying for it, but with toil and labor we worked night and day, that we might not be a burden to any of you. ⁹ It was not because we do not have that right, but to give you in ourselves an example to imitate. ¹⁰ For even when we were with you, we would give you this command: If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat. ¹¹ For we hear that some among you walk in idleness, not busy at work, but busybodies. ¹² Now such persons we command and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living (2Thessalonians 3:6-12).

     Was Paul just being hard-nosed? Was he simply miffed because he had to work while others weren’t? I don’t think so, and the evidence is in the fact that he not only commanded (verses 6, 10, 12), but also encouraged (verse 12). Encouragement is for the betterment the one receiving it. The best evidence of all is found in two phrases that bracket the paragraph: in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ (verse 6) and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ (verse 12). Jesus, the Redeemer of mankind, has his arms around the idea of restoring human dignity.

     Government policies do a poor job of distinguishing between those who can’t support themselves and those who choose not to. I’ve seen enough policies (and been part of developing a few) to know how ineffective they are. To be fair, I’ve worked with some wonderful people who have the kindest of hearts and want nothing but good to come from our efforts. But in the big picture, the one essential element is missing. That element – the Go/or/No-Go of every good work – is the topic of the next letter in this series.

 Keep the faith.

 Grace and Peace (in every good work),

 John       

 

Do-Gooders, Part 2: All Things

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Let me introduce you to the scariest verse in the Bible:

I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some (1Corinthians 9:22).

     The narrator in this verse is the apostle Paul, the mighty man of God. He’s the “I” who became all things to all people. Wow. That puts me on the level of… let’s see… chopped liver. Maybe lower. I have a hard enough time being anything to anybody, let alone all things to all.

     It’s a tough verse, and I’ve wrestled with it for many years. How could one person become all things? Like the Salvation Army’s current slogan – “Doing the Most Good” – it makes me think the good I do doesn’t count. But like Jacob, wrestling with God at Peniel, I’m ready to end the match and receive the blessing.

     The scariest verse in the Bible has a drain plug, and if we pull it, all the scary runs out. Here goes: Not even Paul had become all things to all people at the same time. At times he was among Jews; at times he was among the weak; at other times he was among those who were outside the law. The key to moving easily among the various groups is found in verse 19: For though I am free from all, I have made myself a servant to all… Bottom line: Paul was attentive to whoever he was with – at a given time.

     Ephesians 2:10 says, For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. In the mind of the Father, there exists a good-works list for each of his kids. And each kid’s list is perfectly scaled. The Father knows who you are.

     For our part, I believe the best we can do is to be…

            …available…

                        …and attentive.

 

    Just like Paul. Or George. Or Suzie, or any other Christian. To ask more questions. Do more listening. Be willing to connect need with supply. Nobody has to scratch and claw or suffer angst to gain superstar status. Rather, superstar status is conferred in the simple blessing of the Master: ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master’ (Matthew 25:21).

     Whew, what a relief! Do you feel it? I hope so. You don’t have to prove that you’re doing More Good, or the Most Good, or the Most-est Good. Only be faithful over a little.

     Of the many conversations I hope to have in eternity with my brothers and sisters, some of them will be with Paul. I want to ask him what it was like when God inspired him to write – and live out – the scariest verse in the Bible. I expect he’ll let loose a quick chuckle, and say something like, “It turned out to be way simpler to pull off than I thought it would be. How was it for you?”

     “Yeah, pretty much like that.”

  

Grace and Peace (in the simplest of terms),

 

John

Do-Gooders, Part 1: Quitters' Day

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     The New Year’s resolutions kicked in two days early at Planet Fitness in Hamilton. With January First falling on a Wednesday, it seems many folks had the first half of the week off from work. In any case, on Monday the Thirtieth, the place was humming. The same phenomenon, we can reasonably assume, was in play at other fitness centers: people getting a running start on resolutions to be more fit in the new year.

     The same day, I learned a new term. In a TV commercial for Apple Watch products, the second Friday in January was designated “Quitters’ Day.” The idea, apparently, is that people will go guns-a-blazin’ into the new year – for about two weeks. And then the second weekend happens, and there’s post-season football, and sales of Doritos and queso dip go through the roof. By Monday, well intentioned fitness fiends realize they dropped the habit three days ago – on Quitters’ Day – and now it’s too late to restart. “Oh well, there’s always next year,” is the last sigh of resignation.

     Checking the 2025 calendar, we see that Quitters’ Day falls on… holy smokes, that’s today!

     Stick with me, dear Church, this is not a guilt-laden letter I’m writing to you. I won’t be insisting that you huff-and-puff up the next hill, chanting, “I think I can, I think I can…” What the Father has in mind for us, best I can tell, is to understand his instructions to do good for one another – those interlocking, community-building deeds of support and encouragement found in Scripture, especially the New Testament letters from the Apostles to the churches. Understand them, that is, not be flattened by them.

     There is no Quitters’ Day on God’s calendar. Instead, he links promises to mandates, promises made in perfect love and unmitigated power. Over the next few letters, I’m going to highlight the promises. The mandates are easy enough to see on their own. And I know me; and I know you pretty well, too, Church: I know our propensity to get the mandate, print it on a coffee mug, and take off under a head of our own steam. Be advised: Quitters’ Day looms in a future that doesn’t take the promises into account.

     Last week I shared the following prayer/blessing with some friends:

To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ (2Thessalonians 1:11-12).   

     Where, like Waldo, is the promise? The words “resolve” and “work” leap from the screen. Indeed, every hardworking person I’ve ever known would latch onto those right away. But resolve and work are not the ends; they are the means. Let me encourage in you a keen awareness toward a certain delightful phrase in Scripture: “so that.” These two wonderful words introduce the promise – so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him.

     There are dozens of motivations to good works, maybe hundreds. I could build an exhaustive list, but that would be exhausting… for you and me both. Instead, as a major fan of scientific method, I’ll present a hypothesis; then, you and I together can search for biblical evidence to confirm or deny.

     Hypothesis: “The purest motivation to good works is a desire to glorify Jesus.”

     As a starting point, let’s pray for more desire to glorify Jesus. Maybe you’re lacking, maybe you’re not. One thing is for sure: we get distracted. Not saying it’s a sin, only fact. Logically, then, there’s room for more. And it can’t hurt.

     To that end, please see again the prayer/blessing from above. Here, I’ll copy and paste, so you don’t even have to scroll back up:

    To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ (2Thessalonians 1:11-12).  

     Nineteen-point-five centuries ago, Paul, Sylvanus, and Timothy were praying that over the Thessalonian Christians. Jesus – who is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them (Hebrews 7:25) – is praying it over you and me right now. Our eldest brother wants his younger brothers and sisters to succeed.

     The crowds are already thinning at Planet Fitness. No surprise. I saw an interview with the owner of a different fitness center who said his whole year’s revenues are set in January and February. Wow. Maybe his clients pay a year at a time. Maybe they stay away from Apple Watch commercials longer than I did. My advice on Quitters’ Day is:

 Ignore it.

 

 Grace and Peace (to pray instead of quit),

 

John