demons

Mar

2022

The Lord is our righteousness

A preface to this post:

Our hearts are with the people of Ukraine at this time, as they struggle to protect their country and many have been forced to flee their homes. A number of years ago, I visited Ukraine to teach a course at a seminary there. I asked a contact of mine what, if anything, those of us far away could do in the present crisis. He responded, “Thank you very much for your prayers and concern. Here is a link where you can donate to Ukrainian Army: https://uahelp.monobank.ua/.” [If you go to the site, a donation of 1000 hryven’ at today’s current exchange rate is 33.28 in US dollars.] Others may be inclined to show support via humanitarian agencies. The Guardian newspaper recently published links to charitable agencies working to alleviate suffering: “How Americans can help people of Ukraine.”

At the beginning of in Lent in 2009, I was privileged to preach to a group in Ternopil. I’ll share a version of that message for the first week in Lent here. Let us pray for and support one another in all the struggles and tests of faith that this life brings.

This is the name by which he will be called: “The Lord is our righteousness” (Jeremiah 23:6).

In the wilderness, tempted by Satan

What are your temptations in life?

Are you tempted to be greedy, to want more than you have? Are you tempted to be lazy, to do less than you can do? Or are you tempted to be a workaholic? Do you never let yourself rest?

Are you tempted to be judgmental, to look down on other people? Are you tempted by jealousy and hostility? Are there persons that make you so angry you want to hit them? Maybe you don’t actually hit them, but you’ve got a hammer in your heart that pounds and pounds with hatred or envy.

Are you tempted to be lonely? To feel isolated? To feel sorry for yourself? To feel like God has put you on a path that is too often too difficult and doesn’t give the rewards you want?

Are you tempted to be frustrated and afraid—about the state of affairs in the world or in your life or for your church? Do you keep wishing earth would be more like heaven, even though you know it is not (and cannot be)?

We all know what it is to be tempted. We are bombarded with temptations day after day. The devil knows which ones work particularly well on each of us. We are attacked at every point where we are most vulnerable.

You know your own temptations and sins. You could pour out your soul in confession all day long. You’d never run out of unpleasant thoughts and words and deeds to confess, because so very often temptation wins, godliness loses. You are at fault for this failure, that offense, those ugly behaviors, these unkind words, and countless shameful omissions of the many good things you might have done.

You are guilty, as am I. We are like the man in Jesus’ parable, standing at a distance from God, not even daring to look up to heaven, acknowledging our failings and saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner” (Luke 18:13). Think about it: the sins we’ve been mentioning are things that occur to us now, while we are Christians, while God’s Spirit is within us. Yet still we fall or slip or dive headfirst into sin so many times. Imagine the bondage of sin we were in before the Spirit came to us. What great need of salvation there is for every one of us!

And what a Savior we have in Jesus Christ! The first thing he did—the first, immediate task he took up after his anointing—was to expose himself to Satan’s every temptation and overcome them all. He did that for us. As soon as he was identified as the Christ by his baptism at the Jordan River, “the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan” (Mark 1:12-13). Jesus went head-to-head with Satan—and not merely for sport. As God, Jesus could trounce the devil underfoot eternally, destroy him absolutely. But the fullness of time had come, and God the Son, “born of a woman, born under law to redeem those under law” (Galatians 4:4,5), was working out our redemption under the law. He was fulfilling all righteousness for us, carrying out every commandment in our stead as a human being. He deflected every temptation, proclaiming the word of God in the face of evil. Thus, in Jesus, God has provided a record of human obedience to his will that is faultless, spotless—“one who in every respect has been tested, as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15).

What Jesus did in the desert is much more than an example for us to follow. If Jesus only serves as an example to us, our situation would still be hopeless. Who of us can follow Christ’s example and be perfect as he was and is? Christ came not merely as example. Christ is our substitute, our life, our salvation. He did all that he did to atone for us, to provide us with holiness.

The confrontation with temptation in the desert was Jesus’ first official act as the Anointed One, the Messiah. But it was not the only vicarious act he performed as atonement for us. His whole life was lived as a substitute for ours. Every time Jesus obeyed Mary and Joseph when he was a child, he was doing so in our place. Every time Jesus performed an act of love and mercy for the sick, the sorrowful, the demon-possessed, the bereaved, he was doing perfectly all the things we never could do well enough.

The forty days that Jesus spent in the desert at the beginning of his ministry were not the only occasion when the devil sought to distract Jesus, damage him, derail his mission. When this round of temptation was over, the devil left Jesus—but only for a time (Luke 4:13). He would be back. Satan would strike again and again at Jesus—just the same way that the devil strikes again and again at us. As Jesus pursued his path as the Christ on this earth, he set his face like flint and marched on (cf. Isaiah 50:7, Luke 9:51). He marched on all the way till they threw a rough-hewn wooden beam across his shoulders and told him to drag it out to the place of execution. There he was put to death in our place, just as he had lived in our place.

Jesus supplied a record of righteousness for us by his obedience to every moral duty, by his rejection of every sinful temptation. And then he removed the record of shamefulness that stained us by his anguish on the cross. He who had no sin was made to be sin for us—“the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all” (Isaiah 53:6)—so that “in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21).

Now, when we are tempted, we run for refuge into Jesus’ arms, the one who has already defeated the devil on our behalf, and we find strength in his strength.

Now, when we sin, we return to Jesus, in repentance, to be renewed by his righteousness, to be received by his love, to be revitalized for new life.

Christ is our forgiveness and hope and source of life. Through his victory, we live victoriously. Through his victory, we are given strength to overcome temptations. Through his victory, we are assured a place beside him in eternity.

Thank God that Jesus went out into the desert to be tempted by the devil. He did it for us, and he won that battle for us … just as he has won every other spiritual battle. Because of him, we are blessed “in Christ with every spiritual blessing” (Ephesians 1:3). Our trust, day after day, is in Jesus, who defeated all temptation for us.

Reading for the 1^st Sunday in Lent
The Temptation of Jesus – Luke 4:1-13

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Sep

2021

Our Life and Protection are in Christ

We are armed against evil and go forth with God’s truth

Ephesians 6:10-20

Armor of Gustav I of Sweden, circa 1540. Image from Wikipedia.org

We have in our minds an idealized picture of the knight in shining armor. “The Book of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table (T.Malory, 1485), did much to create that heroic image in our collective consciousness. The Camelot-style combat uniform was elaborate. Interlocking, overlapping rings of iron were fashioned into headpieces and bodices as the first protective layer. Over this chain mail, they wore full suits of iron and steel, fired and polished to a slick finish, complete with domed helmet and faceguard, leg and arm protectors, metal gloves and boots. They carried a heavy shield to block any blows that the armor did not deflect. They also carried offensive weapons, a lance and sword, for jousting and jabbing and slashing at attackers. Overall, a suit of armor could weigh sixty pounds or more–not including javelin, sword, and shield. It required a strong man just to wear and carry it all, let alone do battle in such armor. In such armor, according to folklore, good and chivalrous knights clashed on the battlefield with those they deemed evil opponents.

Of course, we know the legends exaggerate the goodness of the good guys and the badness of the bad guys. Real battles and warfare were (and are) always more complicated. The Crusades, for instance, were not altogether driven by Christian motives, and there were many atrocities committed. Even to the extent that they were religious wars, as one commentator put it, “The medieval crusades were a largely dreadful misdirection of religious enthusiasm [on both sides] towards painful and bloody ends” (TIME, “Ideas/History,” 10/10/2019).

Warfare on this earth is rarely (if ever) a struggle of one entirely righteous group against an entirely evil adversary. In the spiritual realm, however, there is pure goodness, which is in God. And there is ultimate evil, which rages against God and all those he has claimed as his own. As God’s people, whose life and protection are secured in Christ, we are embroiled in a struggle for our souls. But in this struggle, we are given the protection we need in Christ and his peacemaking power that is our “weapon” for engaging with those around us in this world.

The apostle Paul used the picture of battle armor to portray what we need to take our stand on the side of the Lord and to go forth in the name of the Lord. It’s a picture Paul borrowed from the prophet Isaiah, who revealed Christ our Savior as the one to wear such armor first. Isaiah described the coming Messiah as one who would “put on righteousness like a breastplate, and a helmet of salvation on his head,” and would “come to Zion as Redeemer” (Isaiah 59:17,20). Paul used the same imagery to show why we are like knights or warriors, why we need armor and weapons. He said, ““Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil” (Ephesians 6:10-11).

We need armor from God because we daily face the devil (the “slanderer”), the accuser against us. He schemes and sabotages, trying to topple us from our position with God. If our life is drawn as a battlefield, the devil is like the fearsome, brutal enemy who seeks to oust us from our saddle, knock us to the ground, and slash at us until we are dead. Our battle with the devil is a fight to the finish.

And what’s worse, there is not just one devil to deal with. They are legion (cf. Mark 5:8-9), a horde of evil forces arrayed against us. “The dark spirits at work in this world are bigger and stronger than we usually think” (Christianity Today, October 30, 2018).

As Paul reminds us, “Our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12).

What Scripture describes is an entire army, organized for onslaught against us. They are not mere flesh and blood. They are an army of angels who fell from grace but remain potent in power, using that power now to prey upon our souls. There have been plenty of human agents that have committed great evils in this world, but underneath the flow of human events there is a still more sinister influence. Mick Jagger wasn’t wrong when he introduced the devil as the one who “rode a tank, held a general’s rank, when the blitzkrieg raged and the bodies stank,” and has been in the background of other horrors in history. As the Rolling Stones sang, he’s “been around for a long, long time, stole many a man’s soul and faith” (“Sympathy for the Devil,” 1968). Behind so many evils is “the old satanic foe who has sworn to work us woe.” As Martin Luther reminds us, “On earth, he has no equal” (“A Mighty Fortress,” 16th century).

That’s why we need to “take up the whole armor of God,” so that we may be able to stand firm on “that evil day” when temptations attack us (Ephesians 6:13). We are weaker than our spiritual enemies, but the Lord our God is stronger by far. One little word can triumph over the devil and knock him backward. The word that the demons hate most is “Jesus”–the name that means “the Lord saves.” They hate the word “Christ,” the title of God’s Anointed One, knowing they are the rejected ones, cast out of God’s presence. Jesus, the Word made flesh, came to this earth “to destroy the works of the devil” (1 John 3:8). Because of Christ, there is no longer any condemnation for us; we are protected by Jesus’ name (Romans 8:1). Our accuser, the one who “accuses us day and night before God” has been “thrown down.” We have “conquered him by the blood of the Lamb” (Revelation 12:10,11).

Let’s take a moment to consider each of the items of the armor we are given by God.

First, “fasten the belt of truth around your waist” (Ephesians 6:14). Truth holds our whole self together. Knowing what God says–knowing the reality of Christ’s grace, knowing that eternal truth–is what keeps us from being vulnerable to the devil’s lies.

Next, “put on the breastplate of righteousness” (Ephesians 6:14). The breastplate of a suit of armor protects the vital organs. It covers the heart. The righteousness of Christ does exactly that for us. Christ’s righteousness covers our hearts, cleanses our hearts (cf. Acts 15:9), makes our hearts new and alive (cf. Ezekiel 36:26), keeps our hearts safe and at peace with God (cf. Philippians 4:7).

Also, “take the shield of faith” and “the helmet of salvation.” Holding onto the precious gift of faith, we can “quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one” (Ephesians 6:16,17). Temptations seek to puncture our hopes and confidence. But the Spirit who inspires faith in us strengthens our resolve. And when various influences try to twist our minds away from God, the “helmet” that guards our thinking is God’s promise that “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come … will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38,39).

What will it look like when opposition to God’s goodness is threatening us? One commentator put it this way: “If the devil cannot overthrow our faith with one bold lie, he will try to wear it away, to condition us to compromise. … If he cannot seduce us into gross sin, he will try to lead us into Pharisaism” (I.Habeck, Ephesians, 1985, p. 128). Recall Satan’s method back at the beginning. He pressured Eve, while Adam was standing by, asking them, “Did God really say? Did he really give you such a command?” (cf. Genesis 3:1). And then it was, “God is holding out on you. He is trying to keep you from knowing what he knows” (cf. Genesis 3:4-5). Now that Christ has come to redeem us from our fall into sin, as often as not the temptation is, “Did God really give you his promise? Did he really say that you–puny and worthless you–are worthy of his love? Did he really say that you–sinning in all the ways that you do–are forgiven of every sin?” The devil’s big lie seeks to trap us in our guilt and shame and pull us down in despair.

Or the devil, the father of lies, master of twisting words and meanings, connives to make us just as dishonest as he is. We smile and wave and say hello to our neighbors, while inwardly harboring anger or jealousy. We aren’t really interested in our neighbors or their well-being, because we’re too wrapped up in our own concerns.

Or we are tempted to share in the devil’s arrogance, to think our way is the right way and anyone who thinks otherwise is wrong. We become “holier than thou” in our attitude towards others. We look down on others. We look at people from a worldly and competitive point of view, rather than viewing every fellow human being from the perspective of Christ (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:14-21). The influence of warped and devilish thinking on our lives isn’t only when we commit acts of violence or speak words of hatred. It also shows itself in indifference, in judgmentalism, in lack of concern and lack of action on others’ behalf.

You see how difficult our struggle is “against the spiritual forces of evil” that are in the air all around us (Ephesians 6:12). The devils’ ways are often insidious and subtle. We think we are being ok, upright and upstanding, making something of ourselves in this world. What we actually are doing all too often is becoming caught up in ourselves, concerned mainly about making ourselves well off, asserting our own agendas rather than thinking of others’ needs. All the while, Christ is calling us to follow his path and “do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than [ourselves]” … and look not to our own “interests but to the interest of others” (Philippians 2:3,4).

When our hearts are turned in the direction of our neighbors and our world, we find that Christ gives us also the weapons we need to go forward in our spiritual lives and advance his kingdom. We have “the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Ephesians 6:17). With the Word of God we can cut down to size all opposing arguments and philosophies that run counter to the way of hope in Christ. Keep that in mind as the purpose of the Spirit’s sword. God’s word is not something to attack people with; our mission is not to beat down any person’s soul. The Word of God is something we use to cut through falseness and establish the truth, always for the good of others’ souls.

Image from Winston-Salem Journal 4-1-17

As we go forth in Christ’s name, as shoes for our feet, we wear “whatever will make us ready to proclaim the gospel of peace” (Ephesians 6:15). We are ready to share the good news of Jesus, ready to step forward and rescue others from spiritual danger, ready to tell the truths that bring people out of darkness into the light. Wearing the full protection of the armor of God, we are ready to run, to do good, to be agents of mercy and bringers of peace.

Do you remember the battle between David and Goliath? When David was going to face that gigantic, menacing opponent, the army of Israel tried to put him in all their weighty battle armor. It was too heavy; David could not move in it. He rejected that human armor and went to face Goliath armed with just stones and a slingshot and the spiritual armor of God. David’s best defense was the shield of faith that he held as a believer in the Lord. The armor the Lord provides us is not a heavy burden; it does not bog us down. Remember what Jesus said of carrying him with us in our lives: “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:30). When we wear the armor of Christ, our lives are livelier, our attitudes are lifted higher, our spirits run further and freer than we ever could when operating in worldly mode.

We become ambassadors of Christ in this world. When Paul wrote these words of encouragement for us (Ephesians 6:10-20), he was in chains, imprisoned, because his message was perceived as a threat by the powers that existed in the empire at his time. Yet his spirit soared in providing encouragement to the church then and to all Christians ever since. We are not in chains in our society today. We have tremendous freedom to speak our minds and speak the truth. So let’s put on our armor, the righteousness of Christ, and gear up to go out in our communities with faith and love to share.

“We do not wage war according to human standards” (2 Corinthians 10:2). The weapons we use are not the weapons of the world. Our weapons create peace and hope and life, not violence and despair and death. We speak with the gospel of Jesus. We wear the righteousness of God. Faith from the Spirit is our shield.

And as we go forth in Christ’s name, we also pray in his name. Another powerful weapon God gives us is prayer. The apostles urged us (cf. Ephesians 6:18-20) to pray in the Spirit at all times in every sort of petition to God concerning our spiritual task in this world. So in that spirit, let’s close these thoughts with a prayer:

Lord our God, we are strong because of your strength and power. We have life because of your life and grace. Arm us with your righteousness so that we are ready for each day’s battles. Protect us with your truth, with Spirit-given faith, and with your holy words. Make us ever alert to every opportunity to bring peace to others with your good news. Make each of us–and everyone who is active in ministry and witnessing–bold in our witness, so that the mystery of the gospel may be made known to more and more people with clarity and confidence. In Jesus, Amen.

Nov

2020

The King who Inscribes his Character on Us

A message for Christ the King Sunday

Our King does not dominate or dictate
Our King invigorates us to be like him

There are a number of churches around the world named “Christ the King.” The Cathedral of Christ the King in Mullingar, Ireland, is reportedly the first church given that name. The Cathedral of Christ the King in Atlanta is one of the ten largest congregations in the United States. Those are just a couple of the big Christ the King churches. There are numerous smaller congregations too.

I don’t know of any churches named “Christ the Tyrant” or “Christ the Despot” or “Christ the Dictator.” I Google-searched for such names, but couldn’t find any. I did find an opinion piece arguing that Christians tend to view their Lord that way–as a benevolent dictator. But if there are people of faith who take that view, they’re mistaken. Christ the King is certainly not like some military strongman or arbitrary emperor, nor even like a benevolent dictator. Christ is not someone who looks upon us as weak subjects who do his bidding simply to suit his whims. Christ did not become our king by standing above us, pointing out what we must do from moment to moment. Christ became our king by standing with us, among us, leading us in a path we could not have followed without his leadership. Jesus said to those who followed him, “I am among you as one who serves” (Luke 22:27). On the night he said that, Jesus proved his point by getting down on the floor and washing his disciples’ feet (cf. John 13).

Quite clearly, Jesus is the opposite of a tyrant. He won our allegiance by going into battle against tyrants and overlords for us. The tyrant was sin. The tyrant was the devil who accuses and all the demons that torment us. Those are the sorts of rulers that dictate and demand, that control us by fear and guilt. Christ is not like that.

Jesus is also much different from even the most benevolent dictator. Such a ruler believes that he must decide all things for the people underneath him because they are underlings and he is so much above them. Now, it is true that Christ, our King, certainly does know what is best for us. Christ is “the wisdom of God” (1 Corinthians 1:24). As high as the heavens are above the earth, so far are his thoughts higher than our thoughts (cf. Isaiah 55:9). But the fact that Christ is superior to us in all things does not mean he deals with us as inferiors. Rather, he comes alongside us and shares his life and strength with us. He invigorates us with his words, his Spirit, so that we become alive in him. We become more and more like him as we grow in our relationship with him.

I have known God-fearing people who haven’t understood this, who haven’t grasped how Christ is seeking to lead them. They trouble themselves over every detail of their lives, searching desperately for some sort of sign from God. “What is God’s will?” they’ll say; “What does God want me to do?” I knew a woman who struggled over the smallest decisions like that. She begged to know what actions God wanted her to take, almost hoping a daily to-do list would appear like handwriting on the wall, so she’d know she wasn’t making any mistakes. In her anxiousness, she once put two pens side by side on the table and asked, “Now, which pen does God want me to use? The blue one or the black one?” That’s going too far in expecting God to direct our lives. Yes, Christ is our leader by night and by day. But Jesus leads us not as though we are blindfolded and he must guide our feet for every step we take. He instills his character and his way of life in us, so that we make our own decisions as the new persons that we are in Christ (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:17). It’s an outmoded way, a childish way, to want God to dictate every direction to us, to tell us exactly what to do in every instant. It’s a new way of life, as we become mature in Christ, that we make our own decisions and take actions that flow from the mind of Christ which is in us (cf. 1 Corinthians 2:16).

Consider the Epistle assigned for this weekend for the festival of Christ the King. The prayer for the Christians at Ephesus remains an apostlic prayer for us today. Notice the emphasis on how the power of Christ works in us and inspires us as he extends his kingdom into our hearts.

I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you … and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power. God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion …. And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all (Ephesians 1:17-23).

Christ as king is head over all things for us. That’s not an image of some giant head floating in the air like the Great and Powerful Oz. There’s no false pretense of power with Christ our King. He rules in a way far better than the way any authority in this world operates. Even while Christ is seated high above in the heavenly places, he is at the same time intimately connected to us, like the head to members of the body. His thoughts pulse through us and we operate in unity with him. We are his feet to run out into the world, his hands to extend help and care to persons in his name, to put into practice his love.

Consider also the description of what Christ will find when he returns at the end of time, when he “comes in his glory, and all the angels with him” and “all the nations will be gathered before him” (Matthew 25:31-42). Who are the people he calls his own, who truly have known him?

The king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me” (Matthew 25:34-36).

When Christ says this to his people, what is their reaction? “When did we do that?” They wonder what he’s talking about. Christ’s people do such actions on behalf of “the least of these” fellow members of the human family not because they’re keeping score of their good deeds, not because they’re trying to impress God by their actions. They do such things just because that’s who they are, because the spirit of Christ inhabits them and propels them into action. The people of Christ’s kingdom serve everyone they encounter without thinking, “This is something I must do because the king has issued an executive order.” Yes, the kingdom of Christ has laws, but those laws are designed by our Lord for our good and the good of our neighbors. As we grow in our understanding and relationship with our King, we embody more and more the spirit and compassion and action that he has for all who are in need. We become Christ to our neighbors.

Martin Luther famously wrote on that theme–that we become like “little Christs.” In his booklet On the Freedom of a Christian (1520), Luther wrote:

Since God has overwhelmed me with such inestimable riches, why should I not freely, cheerfully, and with my whole heart do all that I know will be pleasing to him? I will therefore give myself, as a sort of Christ, to my neighbor, as Christ has given himself to me. I will do whatever is advantageous and wholesome for my neighbor, since by faith I abound in all good things in Christ. … We each become a sort of Christ to each other, so that we may be mutually Christs, and that the same Christ may be in all of us; that is, that we may be truly Christians.

Our life as Christ’s people, in his service, is not like serving an earthly ruler who dominates and bullies to get his way, and whose subjects survive by trying to ingratiate themselves with the ruler. We serve as people whose character has been transformed by the grace and goodness of our king. We become his allies in extending the life of his kingdom into a world that has not understood him and operates by principles so often opposite to his.

Which leads to one final point that must be mentioned. We need to take notice of the other sort of approach that predominates in this world. It is an approach not only by the rich and powerful, who lord it over others in positions of power and authority. It’s also an approach adopted by people in general toward authority — including God’s authority. It may work with the powers that be in this world, but it doesn’t work with God. In the Gospel reading for today, did you notice how those who are on the wrong side of Christ respond when Christ says they did not do the things that people of his kingdom do? They say, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you” (Matthew 25:44)? And he will answer them, “Just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me” (Matthew 25:45). They thought they had done good things.They thought of themselves as good people. They expected God should be pleased with them, because they had minded their own business and stayed out of trouble. They may even think they had done great undertakings for the King, that they would have an elevated position in his kingdom because of high-powered things that they did. Jesus described such persons in his Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 7:21-23):

Not everyone who says to me, “Lord, Lord,” will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. On that day many will say to me, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your name?” Then I will declare to them, “I never knew you; go away from me, you evildoers.”

Too often people have the wrong idea, thinking Jesus owes it to everybody to be nice to them. And they also think that if they go out of their way to do things they think God wants, that then they are entitled to extra rewards, sort of like people may think their donations or efforts on behalf of some political leader entitle them to perks and privileges in that person’s administration. But Christ our King doesn’t operate by those principles. Christ calls his people to follow him, not worldly “philosophy and empty deceit” or “human tradition” (Colossians 2:9). We are called to follow the truth according to Christ, whose kingdom is not of this world (cf. John 18:36). So let’s not be confused. Let’s not slip back into worldly thinking, into tallying up our good deeds as though keeping a scoresheet will impress Christ the King, or boasting about where we think we stand with God or how right or righteous we are. Being servants of Christ’s kingdom means setting ourselves aside and simply serving others. Christ established his kingdom by laying down his life for those whom he loved and came to serve. As servants of Christ the King, we carry on in his kingdom and extend his kingdom in the same way. We deny ourselves. We take up whatever crosses we may be asked to carry, and we do all we can to help others carry their crosses too (cf. Luke 29:23-25). As the word of our King tells us, “Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ (Galatians 6:2). That’s how we serve–and whom we serve–as the people of Christ the King.

Dec

2019

Don’t go fishing with the devil

Originally published on The Electric Gospel on February 17, 2016.

Don’t go fishing with the devil

by Sarah Allerding

The devil likes fishing. He likes to take us fishing for our past sins. When he catches them, he holds up the fishing line and dangles our sins in our faces. He says, “Look what you did all those years ago. Remember doing that? That was bad, you sinned against God. You don’t deserve forgiveness. You are not good enough. You can’t be forgiven. You are a bad person.” The devil likes to put doubts in our minds. He wants us to despair about our sins. He wants us to think we can’t be forgiven.

If we were left to ourselves, the devil would be right. We would be in a completely hopeless state — on the way to hell. That is not where it all ends, although that is what the devil wishes. Jesus took every one of your sins on himself and suffered the punishment for them in your place. “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed” (1 Peter 2:24). Jesus paid the price in full for our sins. When our Savior died on the cross, our sins were forgiven. When he rose from the dead, our sins remained buried. God no longer looks at our sins. He has put them far away from us. “You will tread our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea” (Micah 7:19). Picture God hurling your sins into the sea, never to be seen again. The deepest part of the ocean is over six miles deep. That is very far away. God has given us a great picture to show us that he has forgiven our sins and will no longer hold them against us. Instead of drowning in our guilt, our guilt has been drowned. Because of what Jesus did for us, he doesn’t see sin when he looks at us. He sees our Lord’s perfect righteousness.

Next time the devil wants you to go fishing for your forgiven sins, tell him no. Tell him that your Savior died to pay for those sins. Tell him that Jesus rose victorious over sin — your sin. Your sins have been forgiven. For this reason, the devil has no right to torment you with them anymore. You are at peace with God.

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Dear Jesus, thank you for dying to take my sins away. Thank you for rising victorious over sin, death, and the devil. Next time the devil wants to take me fishing for my past sins, please remind me that they have been forgiven. They are farther away from me than the deepest part of the sea. I no longer need to let them bother me because you have forgotten them. In your name I pray. Amen.

In the wilderness, tempted by Satan

We are armed against evil and go forth with God’s truth

Don’t go fishing with the devil

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