Fix Your Mind

Desperation is often a marker of God’s people.  It marks us because it’s often the point God brings us to.  God brings his people to desperation for many reasons: to break us of idolatrous self-sufficiency; to end our trust in anything that we trust apart from God himself; for his glory in demonstrating his loving power to save; as a judgment on his enemies, whom he crushes; in awesome defeat of the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.  Scripture is replete with examples of desperation: Job; Israel beside the Sea of Reeds, hemmed in by Pharaoh’s army; Israel in the wilderness without food or water; David pursued by Saul; Elijah running from Jezebel; Jehoshaphat and Judah facing invasion; Hezekiah, with Assyria at the gates of Jerusalem; Daniel in a den with lions; Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego thrown into a superheated furnace; the disciples in a boat about to be swamped; Jesus praying three times in a garden and then hanging on a cross, and we could go on.  God’s people often face circumstances that seem, that feel, that are desperate. 

In desperate circumstances, there is nowhere to turn except to God himself.  The question becomes, in what manner do we turn to him, cynically or joyfully?  It seems to me there are two primary types of desperation – cynical desperation and joyful desperation.  

Cynical desperation is a fundamental heart attitude of disbelief.  According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, the cynic is a “faultfinding, captious critic.”  The cynic demands control and independence, and he bitterly resents anyone who threatens his autonomy.  The cynical man is “contemptuously distrustful of [God’s] nature and motives” (Merriam-Webster).  Why would God do this to me?  It must be that he’s glorified in my pain, in my struggle, and thus there’s nothing to do but take it!  Who can answer the unanswerable Almighty, the one who does just as he pleases?  Such is the cynic.  This man was present in the wilderness of sin when, “The whole congregation of the sons of Israel grumbled against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness.  The sons of Israel said to them, ‘Would that we had died by the LORD’s hand in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the pots of meat, when we ate bread to the full; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger’” (Exodus 16:2-3, NASB).  

Cynical desperation happens when, in consternation and maybe even pain, marked by unbelief, God’s people lose sight of God and fix their eyes on self.  The result is disobedience and a corresponding loss of blessing when God provides (Exodus 16:18-20, 27-28).  God has bound himself to care for his people, so how could he not do so?  Sadly, the cynically desperate person misses the blessing of being cared for by the Father.  Their desperation is the desperation of unbelief, and thus they have no eyes for the true beauty and purpose of provision.  Rather than joyfully receive from God, the cynically desperate person quarrels with God; they test him (Exodus 17:7).  The fruit of cynical desperation is rebellious restlessness where the one provided for hoards and grasps in a self-protective bid to avoid being desperate again.  Ironically, with such an attitude of the heart, the cynically desperate person simply invites the Lord’s ongoing discipline through the rod of desperate circumstances!  

Joyful desperation is something altogether different.  Joyful desperation doesn’t try and hide from God the fear, difficulty, pain, and dismay of desperate circumstances.  It’s honest with the Lord and others about what’s hard, what hurts, and yet it’s honest from a place of faith and trust.  Thus, joyful desperation turns complaint into supplication.  Joyful desperation doesn’t enjoy desperate circumstances, but it fights to enjoy God in the circumstances.  Joyful desperation sees an invincible, invading army and says to God, “…we are powerless before this great multitude who are coming against us; nor do we know what to do, but our eyes are on You” (2 Chronicles 20:12b, NASB).  It brings the terrifying, threatening missive of a brutal king and “…[spreads] it out before the LORD” in prayer (1 Kings 19:14).  Joyful desperation faces the worst possible outcome and prays, “Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done” (Luke 22:42, NASB).  It prays this way, not from angry, cynical resignation, but from faithful expectation; expectation that God will prove Romans 8:28 true: “And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose” (NASB). 

In all things, the joyfully desperate person fixes their eyes on God, in Christ, and takes the next step forward according to his providential orchestration of life (Hebrews 12:1-2).  They do so, not as fatalist, but faithful.  The result of such living is fundamentally peace (Philippians 4:6-7); peace marked by humble courage to do the next thing that is both faithful and wise, come what may.  The joyfully desperate person doesn’t wear desperation on their sleeve.  Instead, what emanates from them is a love for others that remains present even when things seem desperate.  

In our sin, we’re hardwired for the former and not the latter.  Cynical desperation is dangerously easy.  Joyful desperation is wonderfully hard.  It comes only by the Spirit, and only where the righteousness of Christ has been applied to a heart through faith.  Thus, joyful desperation is fruit of the fight of faith.  It comes as part of the promise given to Jesus’ people in James 1:2-3: “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.  And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (NASB).  When the desperate moment arrives, kill the cynic!  Kill him, or her, and instead, “Fight the good fight of faith; take hold of the eternal life to which you were called, and you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses” (1 Timothy 6:12, NASB).  You may not be less desperate for doing so, but you will be marked by the joy of the Lord that is your strength (Nehemiah 8:10).  

Let’s dwell for a few minutes on one of the Old Testament’s less than stellar moments.  By “less than stellar,” I mean borderline disastrous.  The moment I have in mind happens between 1 Samuel 8-11 when Saul is anointed and recognized as Israel’s first king.  I won’t rehearse the events of these chapters in full, but it’s clear this development isn’t good.  Because of God’s grace, 1 Samuel 8-11 isn’t an unmitigated disaster, but still, Saul’s selection to the kingship happens fundamentally because of sin.  God’s people demand of their last judge, the prophet Samuel, a king to lead them in Samuel’s stead.  The request comes in part because Samuel’s unscrupulous sons aren’t following in their father’s footsteps.  While Samuel balks at the request, God directs him otherwise: “‘Listen to the voice of the people in regard to all that they say to you, for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected Me from being king over them” (1 Sam. 8:7, NASB).  As the account unfolds in chapters 8-11, God brings Saul to Samuel and tells Samuel to anoint Saul as “…prince over My people Israel…” (1 Sam. 9:16, NASB).  Ominously, God’s choice of Saul in this case comports with, it illuminates, the foolishness of human wisdom.  Saul’s exactly the sort of man others might choose for king; tall and handsome.  If looks can kill, then Saul will have no problem defending Israel against its enemies!  Of course, if you know the rest of the story, then you know Saul’s reign happens like a slowly unfolding train wreck.  He starts out running strong, but, by the end, he’s a wayward, law-breaking, hopeless man.

The point of dwelling on 1 Samuel 8-11 isn’t merely for the story itself.  If all we do is just remark on the events of these chapters, then what we find isn’t encouraging.  Instead, let’s contemplate how much God is doing in this less-than-stellar, borderline-disastrous moment.  Look at all the levels on which God works to accomplish his many purposes as part of his one great purpose:

He’s judging Samuel’s sons for their corruption, and in the process protecting Samuel’s family from becoming like the family of Eli before him (see 1 Sam. 2:12-17, 22-25; 1 Sam. 8:1-5).

He’s disciplining Israel for their rejection of him as king, thus exposing their faithless pride (1 Sam. 8:7, 19-20; 10:17-19).

He’s letting Samuel taste suffering and rejection in the way of faithfulness, thereby sanctifying Samuel in humility (1 Sam. 8:9).

He’s demonstrating the vanity of human standards for success, thereby making foolish the wisdom of man (1 Sam. 9:1-2, 21; 10:23-24).

He’s displaying his sovereign authority, election, and providence, which isn’t overturned even by the sin of his people (1 Sam. 9:1-17; 10:6-7, 9-10, 20-24).

He’s calling Saul to the obedience of faith, thereby preparing the ground to later expose the man’s sinful heart (1 Sam. 10:1-13, 24-26).

He’s preparing to rescue his people from the oppression of their enemies (1 Sam. 9:16).

He’s preparing the way for godly King David and ultimately for David’s greater son, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

All this and more happens interwoven together as 1 Samuel 8-11 unfolds!  Truly, God is incredible.  As he says in Isaiah, “…‘My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,’ declares the LORD.  ‘For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts’” (Isaiah 55:8-9).

Why is all this worth meditating on for a few minutes?  Well, don’t we all walk into less than stellar moments in life, even moments that are borderline disastrous?  Sometimes these moments come due to circumstances beyond our control.  Sometimes they happen because of someone else’s sin, our sin, or a combination thereof.  Sometimes they happen in our family, our church, our workplace, or in a circle of friends.  It’s encouraging, and comforting, and exhorting to recall that even in such moments God is working.  He’s doing far above and beyond anything we can conceive.  We know that God is good, and that he “…causes all things to work together for good to those who love [Him], to those who are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28, NASB).  God’s many works displayed in 1 Samuel 8-11 help us to believe that truth and, in believing, to trust him.

The following is a letter sent by the elders of Felton Bible Church to the FBC congregation on 11 Sep 25:

Brothers and Sisters, 

Violence, when it rises and seems to prevail, is an overwhelming thing.  That’s especially true when, by God’s grace, violence is not our normal daily experience and we’re not yet inured to its shocking outburst.  Being unaccustomed to violence personally, we’re therefore acutely aware of how, in our uber-connected world, there seems to be a rising tide of shocking violence around us.  Of course, what qualifies as “shocking” and how we measure “rising” are both technically debatable points, but who cares to have that debate right now?  There’s no doubt that recent weeks have been shocking. Whether technically true or not in terms of statistics and numbers, violence seems to be on the rise.  Three weeks ago, the attack on a Catholic church mass shocked us.  Less than a week prior to that heinous act, it was the wanton murder of a young woman on a Charlotte, North Carolina subway.  Then, yesterday, came the calculated assassination of our brother in Christ, Charlie Kirk.  Charlie’s death is not more significant than these other tragedies, but its ripple effect is likely to be far greater.  Such violence is shocking, and it threatens to overwhelm our sensibilities.  It tempts us to despair.  It suggests we should be fearful, and it works to make us cynical, irritable, paranoid, and cowed.  How should we respond in such a moment?  Let us propose that we take the writer of Hebrews at his word: “Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:1-2, NASB).  

Even before the gruesome acts perpetrated against him, our Lord knew the horror and threat of shocking violence.  We refer to the moment in Jesus’ life when he learned that his family relation and forerunner, John the Baptist, died at the command of Herod Antipas.  You’ll find the account in Matthew 14:1-14, Mark 6:14-32, and briefly in Luke 9:7-9 (see also Luke 3:19-20).  How shocking must it have been for the Lord Jesus who, remember, was and is truly human (even as he was and is truly God), to hear of John’s brazen murder at the hands of a dissolute, evil man?  How did Jesus respond?  Matthew tells us that, “Now when Jesus heard this [referring to the account of John’s death], he withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by himself.  But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns.  When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick” (Matthew 14:13-14, ESV).  The very next thing in Matthew’s narrative is the miraculous feeding of more than 5,000 people.  In Luke’s account, when the crowds overtook Jesus, he “…welcomed them and spoke to them of the kingdom of God and cured those who had need of healing” (Luke 9:11). 

Notice two things about Jesus’ response to this moment of shocking violence.  First, according to Matthew, he withdrew to a desolate place by himself.  We should note that for Jesus desolate places were, especially, locations for prayer (see Mark 1:35 and Luke 5:16).  Matthew isn’t explicit, but it must be that Jesus withdrew in order to pray.  Prayer was his first response to violence.  Then, at some point in this process, Jesus’ disciples, recently returned from various ministry excursions, joined him, and together the group sought a time of rest (Mark 6:30-32).  It’s out of this prayer and rest that Jesus was then ready, in Bethsaida, to welcome the crowds with compassion and to feed them with the words and power of God (see Matthew 14:14, Mark 6:33-34, Luke 9:10-11).  That’s the second thing to notice.  After prayer with rest, Jesus pressed on with the ministry entrusted to him by his Father.  Violence may rise and threaten, but God’s work is not thereby stymied.  

Now, lest we think a response of this sort belongs to Jesus alone (he is the God-man after all, and we are merely human), consider the believers of Acts 12.  Shocking violence strikes when “…Herod the king…had James the brother of John [one of Jesus’ twelve disciples] put to death with a sword” (Acts 12:2).  At the same time, Herod arrested Peter, and Peter’s life seemed to hang on a thread.  What do we find the believers doing in response?  Luke writes, “So Peter was kept in the prison, but prayer for him was being made fervently by the church to God” (Acts 12:5).  In response to shocking violence, the church first prayed and then, as the rest of Acts reveals, it pressed on.  

What will Jesus’ people do in 2025 when violence rises in our experience, whether because it strikes us personally or because we find it persistently splashed across the news of the day?  When shocking violence threatens to overwhelm, can we do better than our Lord?  Can we do better than the brothers and sisters who’ve preceded us in faith?  What is our recourse in such moments?  It’s simply and powerfully this – pray, rest, and press on.  We pray like the saints of Revelation 6:10 (NASB), “How long, O Lord, holy and true, will you refrain from judging and avenging our blood on those who dwell on the earth?”  We pause to prayerfully rest and breathe for a moment – maybe even in a “desolate” place with no internet – and then we press on.  We lift our eyes to see a waiting harvest of hungry people starving for want of truth (John 4:34-36), and then we go on feeding them with the words and power of God.  We do that especially through the  powerful, bold act of gathering to worship our God week-by-week, Sunday-by-Sunday, let violence be what it will.  

“The prince of darkness grim, we tremble not for him…The body they may kill: God’s truth abideth still…A mighty fortress is our God.” 

Love in Christ, 

The FBC Elders 

The Book of Judges is an awesome, fascinating, brutal, and grinding portion of Scripture.  It is a repetitive account of duty neglected, discipline applied, and deliverance brought.  Through it all runs the twin themes of God’s faithfulness and his people’s faithlessness.  As the book progresses, this weighty statement appears: “In those days there was no king in Israel.  Everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Judges 17:6, ESV; see also Judges 18:1, 19:1, 21:25).  God’s people have rejected God as king, and a kingless people are a powerless people.  Israel needs a king, and that king must be righteous. 

In their rejection of him as king, God remains faithful even to his faithless nation.  After recounting Israel’s apostasy and God’s judgment in Judges 2:11-15, in verse 16 the author writes, “Then the LORD raised up judges, who saved them out of the hand of those who plundered them” (Judges 2:16, ESV).  God’s people need a righteous king, but first God will bring them deliverance through a judge, or judges, who will save them, rescue them from the hands of their enemies.  Notice the link here between judgment and salvation.  It is the judge who saves.  The judges in this book aren’t Israel’s ultimate saviors.  They’re temporary rescuers, but they’re rescuers who prepare readers of Scripture to think not merely of a judge who condemns, but a judge who saves: “…the LORD raised up judges, who saved them…” 

Now, move from Judges to the Book of Acts, and listen to the words of Paul preached in Athens’ Aeropagus: 

“Therefore having overlooked the times of ignorance, God is now declaring to men that all people everywhere should repent, because He has fixed a day in which He will judge the world in righteousness through a Man whom he has appointed, having furnished proof to all men by raising Him from the dead” (Acts 17:30-31, NASB).  

Who’s the man Paul’s speaking of?  It is, of course, Jesus Christ; the same Jesus whom Scripture describes as “the Savior of the world” (John 4:42, 1 John 4:14, ESV).  Jesus is the final judge who saves.  He is the coming judge foreshadowed by the temporary magistrates in the Book of Judges.  

Now, consider one final link.  Judges – with its Christ-foreshadowing, nation-saving magistrates – ends with the pressing need for a king, a righteous king.  Shortly thereafter, the arc of Scripture lands us on David, and generations thereafter we arrive at David’s greater son, Jesus, the son of Joseph, Jesus of Nazareth.  Who is Jesus?  He is “…the Christ, the Son of the Blessed One…” who sits enthroned “…at the right hand of power…” (Mark 14:61-62, Ephesians 1:20-23).  Jesus Christ is the righteous king of all creation.  The judge who saves and the king who rules are one in the same!  As the biblical narrative unfolds from Judges, it becomes clear that the judge saves by offering himself as the object of condemnation, and the king rules with a cross as his coronation seat.  

Finally then, all of this that I’ve reflected on briefly in writing, Sovereign Grace Music puts beautifully in song.  I commend to you the song “Jesus, Our Judge and Our Savior.”  

Recently a buddy and I took the morning to grab our fishing poles and assorted gear and launch his janky little skiff out of Santa Cruz Harbor.  The sea was calm, the air cool, and the timing right for some great fishing.

There was only one problem with this otherwise idyllic scenario; I get seasick.  Of course, I knew about this slight hitch before the day began, but I hoped for the best.  I fortified myself with non-drowsy, ginger-based anti-nausea medication and prepared to win against the ocean.  Needless to say, it didn’t work.  We hadn’t been out long when the symptoms began to rise.  Positive thinking and careful concentration on the horizon proved powerless to help.  All too soon, the gathering waves of nausea swallowed up my enthusiasm for fishing.  Even my buddy’s catch of a respectably sized rockfish proved unable to stem the onslaught.  I tried to fight it, but in the end, I chummed the waters with a breakfast of toast and apple, all tinctured with the taste of ginger.  I handed my rod to my friend, asked him to reel it in for me, and we beat tracks back to the harbor.  Sadly, the ocean won.

In contemplating this unfortunate episode, I’m reminded of James’ words in James 1 concerning wisdom and doubt.  James writes, “But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him.  But he must ask in faith without any doubting, for the one who doubts is like the surf of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind.  For that man ought not to expect that he will receive anything from the Lord, being a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways (James 1:5-8, NASB).  As I understand these verses, the doubt James addresses is not the common battle against unbelief that every believer in Jesus fights.  Rather, the doubt in question here is hedging unbelief.  It’s unbelief that says, “Sure, I’ll take God’s Word.  I’ll take Jesus.  But I’ll add to it, I’ll add to him, just to make sure I cover all the bases.”  Give me Jesus plus wealth, or Jesus plus a dash of another religion, or Scripture plus worldly wisdom, or anything I add alongside God and his Word to make myself secure.  Living in that kind of doubt is something akin to my fishing excursion.  With respect to faithfulness and kingdom effectiveness, it leaves one sick, self-centered, ineffective, uninterested in the work at hand.  It leaves a person vomiting the half-digested, putrid remains of breakfast when they should be fishing for men.

The parallel I’ve just drawn applies not only to individuals, but even whole churches.  I think of congregations who compromise God’s Word in their doctrine and practice.  Rather than stand confidently on what God has said, they capitulate to the cultural zeitgeist, to the rolling surf of worldly opinion about right and wrong, good and evil, wise and unwise, effective and ineffective.  Examples abound, but in our day, doubt quickly rises in questions of biblical manhood and womanhood and, closely related, biblical sexuality.  Compromise with the world in matters such as these leaves the church seasick.  A seasick church can’t fish as it ought.  Unless something happens to bring health, its descent into total ineffectiveness for the kingdom is only a matter of time.

If you read the gospels, it’s clear that our Lord was often in fishing boats.  Perhaps Jesus was one of those men with an iron stomach.  If so, it was the iron of belief, the iron of faith.  May our God give us such stomachs.  May he find us avid fishers of men.

Consider for a moment the encounter in Mark 10:17-22 between Jesus and a rich man.  Mark says the man in question ran up to Jesus and “…knelt before Him, and asked Him, ‘Good Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” (Mk. 10:17).  When Jesus pointed him to the words of God’s law as articulated in the ten commandments, the man replied, “Teacher, I have kept all these things from my youth up” (Mk. 10:20).  As a quick aside, let’s not misunderstand Jesus at this point.  He did not teach salvation by law keeping.  Rather, our Lord pointed to the Law of Moses because the law reveals sin and corruption at the core of every human heart, the very thing this man needed to understand about himself.  In response to the man’s rejoinder, Jesus said, “One thing you lack: go and sell all you possess and give it to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me” (Mk. 10:21b).  At this, the man departed “…grieving, for he was one who owned much property” (Mk. 10:22b).

Now, while the context of this moment, the immediate issue at hand, pertains to wealth, the principle at work runs much deeper.  The principle is this: Jesus will graciously target that which is most precious to me outside of himself.  Discipleship after Christ will “go after” that in which I find my identity and worth outside of Jesus, no matter what it is.  God is gracious to knock down, decapitate, and make impotent my idols (see 1 Samuel 5:1-5)!  God destroys the idols of his people not merely in wrath, but more fundamentally in love.  Before Jesus went after this man’s idol of wealth, what does Mark tell us?  Read the first part of verse 21, right before Jesus spoke to the man about his property: “Looking at him, Jesus felt a love for him…”  Jesus loved this man, and because he loved him, our Lord would not allow the man’s idols to stand. 

“If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake and the gospel’s will save it.  For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his soul?  For what will a man give in exchange for his soul?” (Mk. 8:34b-37).

When we find our idols lying headless and handless on the floor of life, let’s take a moment to stop and praise the Lord.  Let’s thank him for his love…

 

Note: The above Scripture quotations come from the New American Standard Bible (Grand Rapids: Lockman, 1995). 

Brothers and Sisters, consider these words from Psalm 119:

“How blessed are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the LORD.  How blessed are those who observe His testimonies, who seek Him with all their heart” (vs. 1-2, NASB).

Notice for a moment what these verses don’t say, where they don’t focus.  They don’t say, “How blessed are those whose way was blameless in the past, who have walked in the law of the LORD.  How blessed are those who have observed His testimonies, who have sought Him with all their heart.”  The Psalmist doesn’t focus on the past in Psalm 119:1-2.  Rather, he speaks to the present, to the now, to this moment with respect to God and his ways.

Does this mean there isn’t a special blessing for people whose lives reflect a long history of faithful obedience to God?  Of course not.  We could go elsewhere in Scripture to see such blessing (say, for instance, to Zechariah and Elizabeth, or Simeon, or Anna, all in the first two chapters of Luke’s gospel), but the past isn’t the focus here.  Neither is the future.  The focus in Psalm 119:1-2 is right now, today, this moment with God.  Here we find the Matthew 6:34 horizon of the Christian life: Today.

If you’re a living human being, then you have a past with the Lord characterized by pain, sin, rebellion, shame, and guilt.  Maybe your history is one that’s especially and obviously burdened by such things.  Maybe the consequences of your past sin have been especially grievous, even if just in the memory.  Listen, if such is the case for you, then isn’t the present-day perspective of Psalm 119:1-2 a thing of amazing freedom, amazing grace?  The Apostle Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:17: “Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold new things have come” (NASB).  The same truth shows up with different words in Romans 8:1: “Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (NASB).

If you, by God’s grace, through your faith in Jesus, have repented of your sin and trusted Christ as Lord and Savior, then you’re on the blameless way of blessing, you’re in the way of God’s law.  Walk in the blessing!  Walk in the way!

If you are following Jesus Christ in obedience to him, then to you is the blessing of God’s testimonies.  To you is the blessing of one whose heart loves God’s Word.  Enjoy the blessing!  Cherish the blessing!

Dear Christian, borrowing words of the Apostle Paul, “…forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, [let us] press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13-14).  As long as it is called today, then live today in the freedom of Psalm 119:1-2.

In the tradition of John Bunyan and his Pilgrim’s Progress, permit me to introduce you to Mr. Legalist.

In this case, Mr. Legalist is indeed a true Christian, but he’s a Christian constantly tempted by bondage.  Mr. Legalist’s flesh (meaning his mind and heart, abetted by the rest of his body) tempts this man to fixate on a false righteousness apart from grace, apart from Christ; a righteousness earned according to Law.  What Law?  Not the Law of Moses.  As a Western Christian, Mr. Legalist is educated enough by Scripture and culture not to think himself a Jew living under the former covenants.  His Law is something else, something more nebulous and thus quite nefarious.  Mr. Legalist’s Law is whatever standards or authorities exist before whom he thinks he must be right in order to be good.  On one occasion, the standards might be other church folk.  Other times they’re secular legal codes (quite literally, the law).  Occasionally they’re a set of regulations pertinent to his work.  They can even be something as simple as the set of rules in his housing association.  All these authorities are likely good in a certain sphere, but Mr. Legalist exalts them and makes them a tool to earn his salvation.  Mind you, he wouldn’t think of himself as doing such a rebellious thing, but truthfully, sadly, he’s quite guilty.  Mr. Legalist labors to keep these standards, not driven by love, but by self-keeping self-preservation, with a healthy dose of anxious fear.

In order to accomplish this unattainable perfection, Mr. Legalist carries around in his head a full staff of legal professionals.  His law court comes complete with judge, jury, a prosecutor who’s quite fearsome, a defense attorney who’s rather unimpressive, and a bailiff.  This court is almost always in session, sometimes sitting even when Mr. Legalist sleeps.  He tries to rule the court like God but fails…over-and-over again.  He finds the players unruly.  He labors to ensure the prosecutor is thorough, the judge exacting, the defense attorney competent, and the bailiff prompt.  The court must function well so that if it convicts Mr. Legalist at any point, the result isn’t too disastrous, and if it exonerates him, the result is defensible.

Needless to say, Mr. Legalist’s internal court burdens him and even crushes him at times.  As he grows in real holiness, real Christlikeness, he’ll realize as much.  As time goes on and he grows in the grace and knowledge of the Lord, Mr. Legalist discovers that his mental judge is corrupt.  The prosecutor is a scrupulous fraud.  The defense attorney is worse than incompetent, and the bailiff is downright vicious.  No wonder Mr. Legalist lives burdened with anxiety, given to self-centered fastidiousness, and tempted to extend his imperious regime into the lives of others around him.  He doesn’t realize, not at first, the corrupt bondage in which he so often wallows.

Mr. Legalist also doesn’t realize, not at first, that he’s a proud man.  That’s because his pride masquerades with an oddly self-deprecating disguise.  He knows he can’t measure up to the Law he worships, and so his legalism sours into a strange species of noxious narcissistic victimhood or martyrdom.  It’s all pride, all the idolatrous worship of self.

Mr. Legalist needs the Gospel.  He needs freedom from oppressive laws by liberation into the Law of Love, the Law of Christ.  He needs to learn the true nature of biblical law and biblical Gospel.  He needs to experientially learn the depth of these words spoken by him who is both Savior and Judge: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30, ESV).  Mr. Legalist needs to hear from the former Legalist Pharisee made apostle: “…yet we know that a person is not justified by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ, so we also have believed in Christ Jesus, in order to be justified by faith in Christ and not by works of the law, because by works of the law no one will be justified…I have been crucified with Christ.  It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.  And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.  I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose…For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery” (Galatians 2:16, 20-21; 5:1, ESV).  As he slowly changes, Mr. Legalist will cherish the experience of his fellow pilgrim, the one of whom John Bunyan wrote years ago: “…as Christian came up with the cross, his burden loosed from off his shoulders, and fell from off his back, and began to tumble, and so continued to do till it came to the mouth of the sepulchre, where it fell in, and I saw it no more.”

Fellow Pilgrim, please help Mr. Legalist.  You need not fear him becoming an antinomian Christian, a lawless man (though even he needs guarding against ungodly license).  Rather, be gentle with him.  Guard his conscience as a weaker brother while also not pandering to his sin and feeding his idolatry of self.  Live the Gospel in front of him.  Preach it to him.  Press its truth home to him and help him learn wisdom instead of scrupulous fear.  As he is refined by the indwelling Spirit, you will probably find Mr. Legalist to be a Christian gifted with a sharp mind and a man well-tuned to sound doctrine.  Such is part of the glorious beauty of his capacities redeemed by Christ.  The corrupt and prideful legal activity of his soul must end so that the godly scribe can thrive instead.

Jesus Christ is Yahweh incarnate.  Jesus Christ is the covenant God of Israel – the one true God of heaven and earth – become man.  He is the divine Creator who, to Moses, named himself “I Am”, or “Yahweh” (Exodus 3:14).  In order to demonstrate this, I offer you all the biblical evidence, both explicit and implicit, concerning the deity of Jesus Christ.  Let me cite just one example.  When Judas Iscariot came with the temple guard to arrest Jesus in the garden at Gethsemane, John records Jesus asking, “Whom do you seek?” (Jn. 18:4, LSB).  When they answer, “Jesus the Nazarene,” Jesus responds, “I am He” (Jn. 18:5, 6).  In Greek, Jesus’ response is simply two words: “I am.”  John tells us that when Jesus utters this statement, his arrestors, “…drew back and fell to the ground” (Jn. 18:6).  John doesn’t specify why they do this.  He doesn’t need to.  Anyone who knows the Old Testament, anyone who’s read John’s gospel up to chapter 18, can’t miss the point: This Jesus is Yahweh incarnate!  How could these men not fall on their faces when he answers, “I am”?  

Because Jesus Christ is Yahweh incarnate, it’s important to read the Old Testament with an awareness of Christ.  Now, to be sure, we must be careful in doing so.  It’s also important to let the Old Testament speak on its own terms, as it did to its original audience.  We can’t replace Yahweh of Genesis-Malachi with Jesus Christ alone, and thereby forget Scripture’s doctrine of the Trinity.  But, with these cautions in place, we must let Scripture – Scripture in its totality – be what it is, a testimony to Christ (Luke 24:27).  Accordingly then, let’s consider something of a devotional move with Psalm 34.  Consider this Psalm with Jesus Christ explicitly present as Yahweh incarnate (Note: I’ve used the English Standard Bible’s translation of Psalm 34, and substituted JESUS for LORD, which translates Yahweh, whenever LORD appears): 

I will bless JESUS at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth. 

My soul makes its boast in JESUS; let the humble hear and be glad. 

Oh, magnify JESUS with me, and let us exalt his name together. 

I sought JESUS, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears.

Those who look to him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed. 

This poor man cried, and JESUS heard him and saved him out of all his troubles. 

The angel of JESUS encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them. 

Oh, taste and see that JESUS is good!  Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!

Oh, fear JESUS, you his saints, for those who fear him have no lack!

The young lions suffer want and hunger; but those who seek JESUS lack no good thing.

Come, O children, listen to me; I will teach you the fear of JESUS. 

What man is there who desires life and loves many days, that he may see good?

Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit. 

Turn away from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it. 

The eyes of JESUS are toward the righteous and his ears toward their cry. 

The face of JESUS is against those who do evil, to cut off the memory of them from the earth. 

When the righteous cry for help, JESUS hears and delivers them out of all their troubles.

JESUS is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.

Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but JESUS delivers him out of them all. 

He keeps all his bones; not one of them is broken. 

Affliction will slay the wicked and those who hate the righteous will be condemned.  

JESUS redeems the life of his servants; 

None of those who take refuge in him will be condemned.  

Should we always read Psalm 34 like this?  No.  There’s a reason the Holy Spirit inspired David to write in days before the incarnation of the Son of God.  Psalm 34 testifies to God’s work in his triunity – Father, Son, and Spirit.  But, it is the privilege and joy of Christians to find in Psalm 34 what’s really there; namely Jesus Christ glorified.  

(Note: I’m indebted here to John Piper for spurring my thoughts through recent reading in his book: Expository Exultation.) 

In his letter to Christians in Galatia, the Apostle Paul describes God’s law given to Israel through Moses as a “guardian.”  The Law serves to guard God’s people until the day of Christ, to the end that they “…might be justified by faith” (Gal. 3:24, ESV).  The Law, per Paul, prepares the human heart to receive Jesus Christ.  

Consider this truth on display with a striking passage in Deuteronomy 21.  In verses 18-21 of this chapter, we read the following: 

“If a man has a stubborn and rebellious son who will not obey the voice of his father or the voice of his mother, and, though they discipline him, will not listen to them, then his father and his mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his city at the gate of the place where he lives, and they shall say to the elders of his city, ‘This our son is stubborn and rebellious; he will not obey our voice; he is a glutton and a drunkard.’  Then all the men of the city shall stone him to death with stones. So you shall purge the evil from your midst, and all Israel shall hear, and fear” (ESV).”

In Jesus’ case, these words of the Law unfolded as prescribed, yet in reverse and via crucifixion.  In Christ, this prescription of parental discipline occurred not against the stubborn and rebellious son, but against the gracious (Lk. 2:52) and submissive (Lk. 2:51, Phil. 2:8) son.  It was the will of the Heavenly Father to crush his divine Son (Is. 53:5, 10), and it was the sin of Israel’s elders that their hands did the crushing (Lk. 23:1-2, 20-25).  Jesus died like the son of Deuteronomy 21:18-21, and yet he lived as the only wholly righteous son ever to grace the earth. 

Now, interestingly, consider where Deuteronomy goes immediately after this passage.  In verses 22-23 we read this: 

“And if a man has committed a crime punishable by death and he is put to death, and you hang him on a tree, his body shall not remain all night on the tree, but you shall bury him the same day, for a hanged man is cursed by God. You shall not defile your land that the LORD your God is giving you for an inheritance” (ESV).” 

These words stand in the background of John 19, when the Jewish leaders want Jesus dead and buried before the Sabbath begins (vs. 31).  Paul, in Galatians 3, applies them to Jesus when he writes, “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us – for it is written, ‘Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree’…” (vs. 13, ESV). 

The person who hears the Law of Moses in Deuteronomy, and then sees it fulfilled, in reverse, in the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, faces the inescapable question: “Why?”  Why did this righteous son unjustly suffer the penalty of a rebellious son?  The answer is first, “For you,” and then second, “He didn’t.”  Let me explain… 

Jesus suffered unjustly for you.  If you’re asking the above question, then I trust it’s because the Spirit of God has stirred your heart to hear and believe the Gospel.  Jesus died the death of Deuteronomy 21:18-21, and suffered the curse of Deuteronomy 21:22-23, so that you won’t.  You’re the rebellious son (so was I) or daughter, and yet God, in love, ordained that the gracious and obedient divine Son should die in your place.  Jesus lived Deuteronomy 21:18-23 for you.  

Now for that second answer, “He didn’t.”  What I mean is this: Ultimately Jesus’ death on a cross wasn’t unjust.  From a human perspective the righteous Jesus died at the hands of unjust, unrighteous persecutors.  That’s true.  But it’s not the whole picture.  From God’s perspective, according to the Father’s good plan – the one established before the foundation of the world (Revelation 13:8) – Jesus’ death occurred to fulfill God’s justice, not to violate it.  Jesus died for sin, and therefore his death was good and just. 

A part of me struggles to type those words, but they’re true.  Here it is from the Holy Spirit, through Paul, in 2 Corinthians 5:21: “For our sake he [God] made him [Christ] to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (ESV).  There’s deep mystery in that statement, every bit as deep, and perhaps deeper, than the divine Son becoming human (Phil. 2:5-7).  The mystery of Christ’s incarnation prepared for the mystery of sin’s imputation to this righteous God-Man (Phil. 2:8).  It was right that Jesus died, and just that Jesus died, because God the Father placed on him – he imputed to Christ – the iniquities of all God’s children (Isaiah 53:6).  In one breath we must say two things: 1) Jesus’ death was the greatest travesty of justice that ever occurred, or ever will occur; 2) Jesus’ death was the greatest act of wrath-quenching justice that ever occurred, or ever will occur.  Both statements are true! 

Brothers and sisters, the Law of God in Deuteronomy prepares us for Jesus Christ.  In the end, the question of God’s Law is simply this: “Will you receive God’s Son?”