Singular Hope

God will Finish His Work

… made perfect. Hebrews 12:23

Remember that there are two kinds of perfection that the Christian needs—the perfection of justification in the person of Jesus, and the perfection of sanctification accomplished in him by the Holy Spirit. At present, corruption still remains even in the hearts of the regenerate—experience soon teaches us this. Within us there still are lusts and evil imaginations. But I rejoice to know that the day is coming when God shall finish the work that He has begun; and He will present my soul not only perfect in Christ, but perfect through the Spirit, without spot or blemish or any such thing.

Can it be true that this poor sinful heart of mine is to become holy even as God is holy? Can it be that this spirit, which often cries, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” shall get rid of sin and death—that I will have no evil sounds to vex my ears, and no unholy thoughts to disturb my peace? May this happy hour come quickly! When I cross the Jordan, the work of sanctification will be finished; but not until that moment shall I ever claim perfection in myself. Then my spirit will have its last baptism in the Holy Spirit’s fire.

I think I long to die to receive that last and final purification that will usher me into heaven. An angel will not be any purer than I shall be, for I shall be able to say, in a double sense, “I am clean,” through Jesus’ blood and through the Spirit’s work. We should extol the power of the Holy Spirit who makes us fit to stand before our Father in heaven! Yet we must not allow the hope of perfection there to make us content with imperfection now. If it does this, our hope cannot be genuine; for a good hope is a purifying thing, even now. Grace must be at work in us now or it will not be perfected in us then. Let us pray to “be filled with the Spirit,” that we may increasingly bring forth the fruits of righteousness.

If These Were Silent…

I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out. Luke 19:40

But could the stones cry out? Assuredly they could if He who opens the mouth of the dumb should bid them lift up their voice. Certainly if they were to speak, they would have much to declare in praise of Him who created them by the word of His power; they could extol the wisdom and power of their Maker who called them into being. Shall we not speak well of Him who made us new and out of stones raised up children unto Abraham?

The old rocks could tell of chaos and order and the handiwork of God in successive stages of creation’s drama; are we not also able to talk of God’s decrees, of God’s great work in ancient times, in all that He did for His church in the days of old? If the stones were to speak, they could tell of their breaker, how he took them from the quarry and made them fit for the temple. And aren’t we also able to tell of our glorious Breaker, who broke our hearts with the hammer of His Word, that He might build us into His temple? If the stones should cry out, they would magnify their builder, who polished them and fashioned them into a beautiful palace; and shall not we talk of our Architect and Builder, who has put us in our place in the temple of the living God? If the stones could cry out, they might have a long, long story to tell by way of memorial, for many a time a great stone has been rolled as a memorial before the Lord; and we too can testify, stones of help and pillars of remembrance.

The broken stones of the law cry out against us, but Christ Himself, who has rolled away the stone from the door of the tomb, speaks for us. Stones might well cry out, but we will not let them: We will silence their noise as we break into sacred song and bless the majesty of the Most High; we will spend all our days glorifying Him whom Jacob calls the Shepherd and Stone of Israel.

Paul the apostle wrote to the Romans, encouraging them to “present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship” (12:1). The notion of sacrifice may seem foreign to our contemporary ears today, but it certainly would not have been so during the first century when the apostle penned these words. In fact, the image of sacrifice was implicit in just about everyone’s understanding of worship in antiquity. It makes perfect sense, therefore, for Paul to exhort his readers to spiritual worship using the imagery of sacrifice.

I’ll take this a step further and suggest that offering sacrifice was the very purpose for which man was created in the first place. As many Old Testament scholars — both Jewish and Christian — have suggested, the creation narrative in the book of Genesis describes the formation of the heavens and earth in terms of the creation of a cosmic temple with Eden as its inner sanctuary. If such is the case, then questions arise. What are temples for? What practice are they designed to facilitate? The answer is obvious. Temples exist in order for sacrifice to be offered within them. This gives rise to a further question. What kind of person is ordained to offer sacrifice? Again, it is obvious: sacrifice can only be offered by a priest. Thus in his original role in creation, Adam was given not only the kingly role of exercising dominion over creation but also the priestly role of offering himself back to his Creator in sacrificial, self-giving love. His fall into sin, however, represented his failure to fulfill the destiny for which he was originally created. Thus, Adam the primeval priest became desecrated and defiled, unfit to offer sacrifice.

Enter the Lord Jesus Christ, whose mission consisted of undoing the work of the first Adam and accomplishing for us what Adam failed to do. Thus, Jesus described his own work and ministry in sacrificial terms: “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many ” (Matt. 20:28). Paul described his work similarly: “Walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God” (Eph. 5:2).

But with all of our talk in Reformed circles about the sufficiency of Christ’s atoning work, is it possible that we have failed to recognize the ongoing relevance of that once-for-all sacrifice? While it is true that the cross secures our eternal redemption, it is also true that the significance of Jesus’ sacrificial death was not exhausted on Good Friday, nor has the cross had its full effect when the sinner embraces it and receives forgiveness of sins. Instead, Jesus teaches that the sacrifice of the cross is to shape our lives every single day:

And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” (Luke 9:23–24)

Personally, I am becoming more and more convinced that the ethic of the new covenant can only be understood when considered through sacrificial lenses. If Christ-likeness means anything at all, it means that we who would follow Him are called to deny ourselves (hardly a groundbreaking thought, I know). Taking this further, our self-denial should extend even to the point of voluntarily refraining from our enjoyment of legitimate blessings to which we may be entitled. Paul himself demonstrated this sacrificial ethic. He told the Corinthians that as an apostle he had the right to marry and travel with a wife (a privilege that other apostles took advantage of), however, he willingly chose not to do so for the sake of his gospel ministry. Likewise, though Paul was entitled to a salary for his labor for Christ, he voluntarily forfeited any financial claim so as not to hinder the advance of God’s kingdom (1 Cor. 9:1–12).

This sacrificial ethic is utterly foreign to many Americans, especially when we are taught from an early age to stand up for ourselves, to take what is ours, and to fight for our rights. We’re just not used to turning the other cheek, going the extra mile, or giving away our tunic along with our cloak (Matt. 5:39–41). But if the Son of God, the second person of the Holy Trinity, had “inalienable rights” that He chose not to exercise out of love for His Father and us, and if He then calls us to take up our crosses and follow Him, who are we to expect better treatment than He received at the hands of this world?

If our original father was created with a priestly, sacrificial goal in mind, and if Jesus is the last Adam, then it follows that it is in Christ that this sacrificial goal is fulfilled. This fulfillment takes place for us upon the cross of Calvary and then through us as we bear our own crosses in this passing age.

All of my life I have wanted to be successful. The idea of success has driven me most of my days and the fear of not being successful has kept me on course as well. As I reflect on this, I find it interesting that not much has changed for me personally. I still desire success, but my definition of “success” has shifted drastically. Growing up in the thriving and prosperous suburb of Plano the mantra and allure of success was all around me.

Success equated to the various status symbols of the “American Dream”: expensive cars, expansive homes, exotic vacations and exclusive lives. The greater cultural system reinforced what most families modeled, and we were all competing for ways to get a slice of pie. The proverbial “Jones’” kept everyone running at breakneck speed and leaving carnage in our wake; people became a means to an end as “success” was the idol we chased. This is not isolated to Plano or the Dallas metroplex per se; rather, this ethos permeates the ghetto as much as Rodeo Drive. It is American to the core.

A biblically informed definition of success has almost nothing to do with the acquisition of material things or the achievement of personal comfort. Success for the believer is defined in relationship to Jesus Christ and His mission. Christ came to seek and save that which was lost; He calls a people unto Himself. We were once far off and have now been brought near through the blood of Christ. He creates a new humanity with transformed perspectives and ambitions.

The death and resurrection of Christ and the overall mission of God in the world now defines what success looks like for the believer and the Church. Simplistically, a believer’s desire for success should be in accordance with Romans 12:1-2. Do I look like the Savior? Have I been transformed by His grace to love radically, give generously, suffer willingly, walk humbly and engage missionally? Is the fruit of God’s Spirit evident in my heart: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Galatians 5:22).

The hope in my life is that I would be successful, but success has been redefined as I have been transformed. Now, a prosperous life means an endowment of Christ-saturated thoughts, relationships and actions; not a certain tax bracket or health. Conformity to the image of Christ compels me rather than the creaturely comforts of a fading glory (2 Corinthians 5:14). The success I am now pursuing is not elusive; rather, it is eternally mine because it has been purchased by the sufficient blood of Christ and secured by the seal of the Holy Spirit (Ephesians 1:7,14). The “American Dream” is a cheap substitute compared to the rich treasure of knowing Christ (Philippians 3:7-10). The gospel reality awakens us to pleasures evermore and causes us to abandon our prior delusions of grandeur to readily accept the inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled and unfading, kept in heaven for those who believe. (1 Peter 1:3-5).

Can I really be called a “success” if I waste my life chasing the wind? Maybe, but then I would also have to be called a “fool” as well.