Thursday, January 25, 2024

Trimmed and Burning, Part 2

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     How glad are you that Jesus came the first time? Emmanuel – “God with us.” He left the glory of heaven, put on the frailties of flesh, and subjected himself to every temptation common to mankind. He conquered sin – and death, too – and made a way for sinners to be delivered from the dominion of sin. He made a way through the veil, his flesh, for us to have access to the throne of grace, now and forever. So tell me: have you loved his first appearing? I should hope so.

     How about his next appearing? How’s your level of eagerness for the fulfillment of the Kingdom of Christ on this very planet? As compared to, say, Christmas or your next birthday or your income tax refund, how giddy do you get at the prospect of the rightful King’s return?

     Jesus gave a parable (Matthew 25:1-13) of ten virgins who went out to meet the bridegroom (parallel to Jesus) for the wedding feast. The five virgins who took extra oil for their lamps were considered “wise,” and were ready, even though the bridegroom delayed. The other five, considered “foolish,” had insufficient oil, and were shut out of the feast. The difference between them wasn’t resources; it was eagerness. We know that to be true because of the warning Jesus gave at the end of the parable: “Watch, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour” (verse 13).

     I thought it might do us some good to study the example of a long-ago Christian who had loved the first appearing of Jesus and worked hard to build eagerness in others for the consummation of the Kingdom. His name, at first, was Saul of Tarsus, later to be Paul. Jesus met Paul on the road to Damascus, Syria – as Paul put it, Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me (1Corinthians 15:8). How would someone who had met Jesus in his first appearing recommend his second appearing to us who have come so many centuries afterward? There’s solid evidence in another letter the apostle wrote. Take a look:

     I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching. For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths. As for you, always be sober-minded, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry.

    For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing (2Timothy 4:1-8).

     In my humble estimation, the ink hadn’t dried on the words “the time is coming” before the time had come. Most of what Paul wrote to the churches was about false and deceptive teaching, and the propensity of people to fall for it – even to accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions. Other than Jesus himself, Paul was more qualified than anyone to give exhortation concerning the Lord’s return. Given the audience and the inspiration, he made his charge by (Christ’s) appearing and his kingdom: Work hard. Be ready. And be glad – we’ve loved his first appearing, and we have every reason to love the next one.

     Not that I’m claiming to be an apostle or sub-apostle or anything of the sort, but maybe I’ve been around long enough that I can make some observations worth considering. I’ve lived, so far, through 13 presidential administrations, 32 versions of Congress, and I’m-not-sure how many Supreme Court Justices. Truly, the level of foolishness is at an all-time high, at least for the years to which I can personally attest. Serious people with high-caliber titles refer to pre-born humans as “pregnancy tissue.” Laws are on the books saying a female can become a male – or vice-versa or back again – just by saying so. Arguments are made in high places that some people don’t have the rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness because they were born south of the Rio Grande. Moral issues get fumbled, picked up, and fumbled again, as if moral issues actually belonged in the arena of legislature (which they do not). “Truth” gets reinvented with every news cycle – whatever it takes to scratch the itching ear.

     It's not a failure of politics or democracy. No political system could ever handle what humans have been up against ever since Genesis 3: namely, sin. And being subject to the Second Law of Thermodynamics, like everything else in the universe, political systems run down, not up.

     The problem is lack of a King. When God’s chosen people rejected him in favor of a mere mortal king (1Samuel 8:1-9), it was a far bigger tragedy than they realized. And we haven’t recovered. With each generation, each century, each millennium, the ratcheting has been downward. Absurdity is given legitimacy. The list of atrocities grows. The only way out is up, through the tunnel vision of the tightening spiral, anticipating the only one who ever earned the title of capital-K King.

     How, then, would we show eagerness for his return? Feelings are never enough – what’s the proof-of-concept? In another parable involving lamps, Jesus said, “Stay dressed for action and keep your lamps burning…” (Luke 12:35). Curious about the application, Peter asked, “Lord, are you telling this parable for us or for all?” And the Lord said, “Who then is the faithful and wise manager, whom his master will set over his household, to give them their portion of food at the proper time? Blessed is that servant whom his master will find so doing when he comes” (verses 41-43).

     Are you unsure of how to prove your eagerness to see the Kingdom on earth? Ask the King. He will have perfectly scalable, perfectly appropriate, perfectly acceptable actions for you and me to take – in the power of the Holy Spirit. And then we do what he gives us. That’s what it means to keep one’s lamp trimmed and burning.

 

Grace and Peace (to all who have loved his appearing),

 

John

Wednesday, January 10, 2024

Trimmed and Burning, Part One

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

    The year known as 2023 was many things to many people. Here’s what it was not: It was not the year Jesus returned to consummate his kingdom on earth. Now that last year is last year, we can say for certain the second coming of Christ didn’t happen. How about this year?

     From the Cobblestone Statement of Faith, Article 8: “We believe in the personal, visible, and imminent return of our Lord Jesus Christ to this earth, and the consummation of His Kingdom…”

     The year we’re rolling into has as much potential to be The Year as any year since Christ ascended. The years don’t diminish in potential; indeed, 2023 brought us 365 days closer to the Day (Hebrews 10:25). Whatever your favorite end-times theories are, this is an unassailable fact. What are we to do with it? Let’s see what Jesus had to say.

     “Then the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. For when the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. As the bridegroom was delayed, they all became drowsy and slept. But at midnight there was a cry, ‘Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those virgins rose and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise answered, saying, ‘Since there will not be enough for us and for you, go rather to the dealers and buy for yourselves.’ And while they were going to buy, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the marriage feast, and the door was shut. Afterward the other virgins came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ But he answered, ‘Truly, I say to you, I do not know you.’ Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour” (Matthew 25:1-13).  

     On first review, Jesus could be telling us that we really want to be numbered among the wise rather than the foolish. Sure, no argument there. What else? Another look shows the need for preparing and watching. Again, a good observation. Anything more?

     On behalf of the bridegroom – he is Jesus, of course – let me ask a question: If the Lord returns during this year, how glad will you be to see him?

     In the broader context of Matthew 24 and 25, another question hangs in the air. In this private conversation with Jesus, his disciples are asking, “Tell us, when will these things be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the close of the age?” (24:3). To paraphrase: “How much time do we have?!” It seems, on one hand, that they’re eager to see messed-up situations made right – the occupying Romans kicked out of Israel, for instance. But on the other hand, I sense an anxiety, a reluctance to let go of what they know or anticipate yet in life. They were all fairly young. Best we can tell, only one was married. You get the picture, I think.

     To help answer the question I asked earlier, I’ll go out on a limb and make a statement: The quality of our preparation is directly proportional to our eagerness to see the bridegroom. The wise virgins had already decided that even if the bridegroom tarried, they would wait for him, and so they took extra oil for their lamps. They had every reason to believe he was coming, but didn’t know when, exactly. Their wisdom was rooted in their gladness at the prospect of going out to meet him

     One of the most delightful theological conversations I’ve ever had was with a 12-year-old several years ago. Her parents and older siblings had come to a membership class I was teaching, and she was hanging out with us (and learning at least as much as anyone else in the room). Part of the class is a short study of our Statement of Faith, and she had pertinent questions on several points. Article 8 bothered her, especially the “imminent” aspect of Jesus’ return. Not too soon, she hoped.

     I get it. This life is all we know for sure, and it’s good (mostly). And there’s always the hope that what isn’t good can still be made good, and whatever we haven’t experienced yet will be good when we do. Sometimes I think of the Lord’s returning the same way I would the prospect of people visiting my home for the first time: I want to get the grass cut and the driveway swept – maybe they’ll think I keep the place looking like that all the time. “Just a little longer, Jesus, so I can knock out a few more items on this punch list.”

     There’s nothing wrong with getting some solid kingdom work done in advance of the consummation thereof. Let’s work as hard as we’re able, holding onto the basic idea in the Parable of the Ten Virgins: We must not let anything override our eagerness to meet the bridegroom, whether he comes soon or late. Eagerness fuels preparation, and the preparation, in and of itself, accomplishes kingdom work. And so I ask again: If the Lord returns during this year, how glad will you be to see him?

    Let’s take up the topic in our next letter. Meanwhile…

 

Grace and Peace (and eagerness all-over-ya),

 

John