Love God and do what you please: two directives

It should be readily apparent that doing the will of God is emphasized in Scripture, and that knowing the will of God is of paramount importance to those who follow Christ.

The problem comes when I seek to “know the will of God for my life” in terms as significant as who I should marry and those as mundane as what I should eat for breakfast.

Scripture is clear that God wills. Some of his willing he has revealed to us “ahead of time” in the demands for holiness and moral living that he places on his people. Some of his willing he does not tell us “ahead of time” and we never know until after the fact: as the old saying goes, if you want to know God’s will for next Tuesday, wait until next Wednesday.

But nowhere in God’s word do we find any instruction to find God’s will for our lives, other than his moral will. We are not promised to know God’s preference for each decision we make or for each choice we face before the deciding and choosing.

This does not mean, however, that God doesn’t have a revealed preference for how we choose. Broadly speaking, God’s preference for us is to live our lives and make our decisions following the way of wisdom. In so doing, we reflect the fact that despite the fall we still bear God’s image, which includes the mandate to have dominion over the earth. As we become conformed to the image of Christ, we conform our will to his, and can, as Augustine quipped, “Love God and do what we please.”

In the meantime, there are guideposts in the Scriptures to help us think through our daily decision-making. I suggest we think of these guideposts as the Two Directives and Five Demands.

The Two Directives: Moral Will and Mission Instruction

Informing and guiding the trajectory of our lives, including how we make daily choices, are the grand themes of God’s 1) moral will and his 2) mission instruction. God’s moral will is his demand that we be holy, for he is holy, including the Ten Commandments, the “be” commands, and all the other instructions for how we are to live while on the earth. God’s moral will is further delineated for us in the Five Demands, which I will discuss in a later article.

Mission Instruction

People are on earth for a purpose. God’s people are on earth and are his for a purpose. This “chief end of man”, as the Westminster Catechism describes it, is to love God and enjoy him forever. Specifically, while we are “between the times” of Christ’s first advent (the inauguration of the kingdom) and his second advent (the consummation of the kingdom), we are to carry the message of man’s chief end and the means to that end — the gospel of Jesus Christ — to all people on earth.

The primary statement of our mission instruction is the Great Commission, found in Matthew 28:18-20.

So, when we are faced with decisions regarding which school to attend, what course of study to pursue, who to marry, where to live, we should be thinking how the options we have either further the mission or impede the mission.

There are, of course, more details to consider, which we haven’t space to discuss here. But the point is that the believer should always be thinking of the mission — the Great Commission — and his responsibility in it before God when living life. We should be constantly resisting the common default decision-guiders, such as obtaining the dual-income-dual-garage-dual-kid life, pursuing the “American dream,” “finding oneself”, or even the rather wispy concept of “happiness”. (This pursuit of “happiness,” after all, is what frequently provides justification for the middle-aged man to leave his wife and children for another woman: hardly God’s will in any sense.)

Like soldiers on the field of battle, believers searching for guidance do well to consider the completion of the mission.

Becoming less ignorant of Scripture: plan

Statistics abound regarding the level of ignorance regarding the Holy Bible. Even among those who profess to follow Jesus Christ, our knowledge of the Bible and what it says can be compared to karate: we know just enough to get ourselves hurt.

There is, however, a solution that is not all that complicated: read the Bible.

In When I Dont’ Desire God John Piper stresses the importance of regular Scripture intake when our Christian life seems to me more drudgery than joy. Here are some suggestions adapted from his treatment of the subject in a chapter he titles “How to Wield the Word in the Fight for Joy”:

Plan

Year-long Bible reading plans can be daunting, but our planning to read doesn’t need to be as detailed or as long-range as that. Take a look at your schedule, pick a time to read your Bible each day, and write it down so that you remember it.

Protect

Treat your selected time for Bible-reading as you would any other appointment (at least as you would any other appointment). The tyranny of the urgent is relentless, and there will always be other things vying for your time. It will seem so easy to say ‘I can always re-schedule my Bible reading appointment’, but you generally won’t.

Prioritize

It is generally better to schedule your reading time in the mornings. If confessions are in order, I am a night-owl, so this morning reading has been historically difficult for me. But I can also testify to the benefits of beginning my day with Scripture. You will, too.

Privatize

I remember an anecdote about a mother who had little space and little time for a “prayer closet.” But everyone knew that when she knelt in the corner with her apron over her head, she was to be left alone with her Bible and her prayer. Make sure that you have a place and time to avoid interruptions. (And turn the cell phone off!).

Because we are both saved and sanctified through grace, we should not become legalistic and think that the scheduling of Bible reading itself is was benefits us with God. Instead, being intentional and deliberate about our Bible reading is a tool that helps us hear from God in the Scriptures.

You DO NOT have the right to remain silent

For criminal suspects, remaining silent is a right and usually a prudent defense strategy.

For believers, remaining silent is disobedience.

When Jesus was brought to “trial” before the religious leaders (Mark 14:53-72), he could have kept silent and as contrived as testimony against him was, it was insufficient to convict him. Yet he boldly testified, anyway, despite the desire and intent of those leaders to murder him.

Peter, on the other hand, should have kept silent. It would have been better than the timid, self-serving witness he gave, which was actually false. Instead, he should have given true testimony to his identification with Christ. While Jesus gave bold testimony before those who would kill him, the cross-examination of a servant girl was too much for Peter.

Peter had very recently insisted he would never abandon Jesus (pride), had fallen asleep in the garden (sloth), had opted for safe observation when Jesus was in danger (cowardice), and benefited from the world’s comforts in warming himself by the fire (worldliness…Mark records this for us twice).

Each day we are faced with the decision to either give bold testimony to Jesus, who saved us, who has called us to bear witness to his gospel, and who has sent us out to do so. Yet common sins such as those that overtook Peter also tempt us to remain silent when we should speak.

We suppose that we are immune to falling (“I would never do that”…”I can’t believe he did that”). Or, we allow other demands on our time and energy, such as work, and kids’ schedules and hobbies to leave us sluggish, so that we become “spiritual sleepwalkers.” Or, we follow kingdom activity “from a distance,” observing how conversations about truth and about the gospel and about Jesus go so that we can join in if things looks good, but also so that we can maintain plausible deniability if they go wrong (“I’m not one of those weirdos!”). Or, we allow our affinity for creature comforts to make us hesitate to offer bold testimony as we contemplate whether it’s worth being cold to be faithful to Christ.

Several things are true about us and our confession: 1) separation from Christ weakens our witness; 2) capitulation to sin dampens our resolve, and 3) focus on ourselves taints our testimony.

Jesus saves us and calls us not to remain silent, but to proclaim him. We have opportunity every day.

Dying for Ingrates: Jesus at his last supper

In Mark 14:12-31, Jesus is viewed by the larger group of disciples as the father-figure who arranges the Passover celebration for his family.

In commemorating Israel’s escape from Egypt, in which the lamb was slain, its body eaten and its blood smeared above the doorpost, Passover looked back to God’s deliverance of his people, his new covenant and new beginning with them, and looked forward to the time when all things would be reformed and made new.

Jesus reformulated the Passover blessings, announcing that it was no longer the flesh of a lamb what was torn and consumed, but that “this is my body.” He announces that it is no longer the blood of the lamb that covers the family, but that “this is my blood of the covenant.” All this is astounding enough, but even more amazing is the company Jesus keeps as he makes these announcements, all in view of his imminent death and actual sacrifice.

Judas is there, celebrating with the Lamb. Peter is there, celebrating, arguing that he would never reject Jesus when it was he who is recorded as deserting Jesus first. And everyone else there celebrated even as Jesus predicted that they would all fall away.

It was easy to claim fealty in comfortable surroundings: it became much more difficult in the face of angry Roman soldiers and venomous religious leaders, or, in the case of Peter, the prying questions of a servant girl.

Jesus announced his coming sacrifice and celebrated the fact not with perfect followers who deserved his blessings, with those who would betray and desert him. As we receive the Lord’s Supper today, we sit at table as murderers, thieves, adulterers, idolaters…not as those who deserve his blessings.

God demonstrates his love toward us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8).

In receiving the Lord’s Supper today, we commemorate the fact that he received us while we were rebelling against him, and he continues to receive us despite our ongoing fits, tantrums and generally poor behavior.

Spilt Nard & Zealous Faith Embrace Gospel Suffering

The account of the anonymous woman who broke an alabaster flask and poured nard onto Jesus’ head (Mark 14) is difficult to relate directly to post-resurrection discipleship. I’ve never seen alabaster, and wouldn’t know nard if it hit me in the face, and, besides, even if I had and would, Jesus isn’t here.

We know that her act was criticized by others, even those close to Jesus, but Jesus commended her for it. Which shows that those close to Jesus don’t always ‘get it’ and sometimes place a good thing (caring for the poor) above the best thing (lavishing praise on the Christ who would soon be gone). It also shows that zealous acts of faith and worship are often a threat to moderate religion, which thrives on mediocrity and standard works-based feel-good-ism.

Perhaps a key to understanding this is to understand joy. God calls us to it, but we frequently find ourselves not knowing Him well enough to find our greatest joy in Him. Those who do — like the nard lady and naked-dancing David — pose a real threat to those of us who find joy in other things. Nard lady found joy in expending a very valuable item in worship; David in dancing naked before God. When we find our joy in such comparatively pedestrian things as sports results, market gains, and even children — all things that benefit us — that someone else expresses ultimate joy in (simply) God demonstrates in stark contrast our utilitarian happiness.

Nard lady sacrificed material wealth in worship of One who would suffer as substitute. She perhaps grasped the notion that the gospel, the good news, is about suffering: that either we endure it alone or Christ endures it alone. This is why what she did, but not her name, is proclaimed with the gospel — it embraced the suffering of Christ in her behalf.

Your Money or Your Life: Is Jesus a Street Thug?

A street thug approaches a couple in an alleyway and demands “your money or your life!” The man pushes the woman forward, and the thug says “what are you doing?” The man replies, “Oh, I thought you said ‘your money or your wife’!”

The iconic threat of the street thug is a subject for standup comedy, but his intentions are all too serious: give him your cash, and you might live; refuse and he kills you, taking your coin, anyway.

Jesus issues a sanctified demand quite similar to that of the thug, though with much different implications: in Mark’s gospel Jesus frequently demonstrates that those who would attempt to follow him cannot cling to their money at the same time. The rich young man turned away when it became apparent that Jesus’ lordship extended to his monetary wealth (Mark 10:17-22). The poor widow was praised when her offering of two lepta constituted more than the extravagant offerings of the rich, because it was “all she had to live on” (Mark 12:41-44).

In effect, the rich young man kept his wealth and lost his life. The widow gave her wealth and gained much more than the physical sustenance it may have provided.

God measures our giving — the extent to which we aren’t clinging to money — differently than the world does. Actual dollar amounts are not what counts: we would expect the wealthy to give larger sums, and the poor to give lesser sums. God measures our giving by 1) what we have kept for ourselves, 2) what the giving costs us, 3) what sacrifice we made to give it.

If we determine how much to give to kingdom work through the church based upon what we will be able to keep for ourselves, we are clinging to money. If we can give and discern no effect on our standard of living, we are clinging to money. If the gift doesn’t required us to alter spending on other things or to modify other behavior, we are clinging to money.

Jesus demands “your money or your life.” Yet his is not a threat to kill us if we don’t give him our money, but a stern reminder that unless we turn loose of wealth’s void promise, we remain dead in sin.

Spiritual Blinders and the Love of God

Jesus says that the greatest commandment is to love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength and to love your neighbor as yourself (Mark 12:28-31).

The list of things needed to love God is not a catalogue of body parts: it is a radical demand for the totality of our being. Many times it is fairly easy to acknowledge the high expectations that God has for his people in general, but when it comes to rooting out our waywardness in particular, we erect spiritual blinders to the things closest to us.

A whole heart. God commands that his people be undivided in their loyalty to him, unreserved in their dedication to his — and rejection to their own — cause. It is what Jesus demanded when he told followers to deny themselves and take up their cross (Mark 9:345) and is what is demonstrated in the parable of the man who sold all he had to purchase the pearl of great price (Matthew 13:45-46). When the king commissioned settlers to explore and conquer new lands across the sea, upon arrival the captain would burn the boats so that there would be no longing for the old but complete dedication to the new. What boats do we leave moored at the dock, just in case we need them? Do we fear going “all in” for God because others will see us as strange? Do we hold back some of our money, our time, our energy because we want to spend them in our old world?

All our soul. “Soul” here likely means our passions and excitements: what things get us the most excited? God expects that our greatest passions, our greatest excitement, our greatest joy will come from him. This doesn’t mean that God hasn’t given us things on earth to enjoy and be excited about. It does mean that Satan knows how to manipulate our passions and desires, and lead us to think that we cannot be happy or fulfilled or complete without having and enjoying something that God hasn’t given. Adam & Eve were lured with this very notion. We shouldn’t just let our passions and excitements happen to us, but guard them and ensure that they are the result of godly things. Do we get the most excited about football, hunting, and the latest Twilight movie or secular holiday tradition? Are we — by comparison, ho-hum about evangelism, spiritual warfare, holiness, temptation and worship?

All our mind. People don’t like to think. It hurts. And believers are generally no better about this, even though we are told such things as that our transformation into Christ-likeness is in part through the “renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:1-2) and that we are to “train our senses to discern good and evil” (Hebrews 5:14) and we are to “think about” worthy things (Philippians 4:8). Do we relish memorizing sports schedules and statistics but balk at reading Scripture? Do we absorb social media like facebook and Twitter like a sponge but shed spiritual media like books and journals or the meditation on scripture like water off a duck’s back?

All our strength. The old truism bears much truth: actions speak louder than words. If I claim to love football, and believe it is the greatest game, and encourage others to enjoy its manifold benefits, but haven’t seen a game in five years, all my claims to loving football ring hollow, especially if in the same time I’ve participated in every bowling match there was. If we claim to love God, but slight the study of his word, or praise his greatness, or enjoy his people, our strength is being wasted somewhere. If we claim to love God but ignore all he has commanded — most apparently in how we treat other people — then our actions are saying something different that our mind and our mouth.

We keep from God our heart, soul, mind and strength at our own peril. We won’t be perfect in any of these before Christ returns, but we are given the Spirit to keep on reforming them until then.