The burden of temporal life is that joy, however great, is always mingled with pain. Even in the most glorious moments, we feel the ache of eternal beings destined for unspoiled holiness, who are presently trapped in bodies and a world cursed by sin.
The most spectacular sunrise over the Grand Canyon, the majestic thunder of Niagara Falls, the monolithic grandeur of Yosemite – all these scenes groan and travail in pain, waiting for redemption from the sin that has corrupted their former glory.
The sweetest display of affection from a child, the most deeply comforting embrace of a friend, even the covenantal promises of a wedding day – all these come with the guarantee of pain to follow as fallen beings will certainly fail to love one another perfectly. We yearn for restoration to the flawless image of Jesus that secures our perfect fellowship with Him, and each other.
The beauty of Christian life is that pain, however deep, is always mingled with joy. Even in the darkest moments of agony, we feel the hope of eternal beings living in a cursed world, who are guaranteed full redemption and restoration.
The searing loss of close relationship is mitigated by the present nearness of Jesus and the promise of eternity with Him. The sting of death is salved by the living hope of Jesus’ resurrection.
Because Jesus is the wounded and victorious Lord of Life, the wounds that Death now inflicts are the flailing jabs of a defeated, dying enemy. One day, Death will gasp its final breath and dissipate into distant past.
We will see Jesus, and He will reveal glory in us. He will free us “from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.”
And so we wait, believing Him with patient hope.
While we wait, our pain becomes a platform for divine intercession. The Spirit prays for us, the Father works for good in us, and Jesus always loves us. By His love, even the direst of circumstances make us “more than conquerors through Him that loved us.”
Perhaps the greatest paradox of all is the cross that displayed this love. He did not spare Himself from suffering, our suffering, even death. The most heinous crime of history was the means of redeeming criminals. Jesus’ death was the purchase of life. God suffered the death of His Son. The One Who worked that for good will certainly be faithful to use our pain for good as well.
Though we grieve and groan while awaiting redemption, “the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”
Come, Lord Jesus.
Until then, nothing will “separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
What does comfort actually mean? The word’s etymology casts a beautiful shade of meaning. The Latin prefix com-means “together, with”; the root FORT means “strength.” With strength.
Comfort is no limp-wristed pat on the back. It is not merely a conciliatory expression of sympathy. It is a nearness, a proximity that brings strength. As it eases grief, it gives power to the beneficiary. Comfort renders aid, alleviates pain, and empowers for the next step.
Do we find comfort in love? Sure. We crave comfort from many sources, perhaps none so much as relationships. But what love is Paul referring to here? Is this a generic comfort from any generic love?
Consider the context. This clause is preceded by “consolation in Christ” and followed by “fellowship of the Spirit.” Two persons of the Trinity are providing the consolation and fellowship. For that reason (and another to be explored later from 2 Cor 13:14), I think I may safely say that the source of this love is divine.
So is there any comfort to be found in the love of the Father, demonstrated by the Son and dispersed by the Spirit (1 John 4:9, Rom 5:5)? Oh, yes.
By contrast, I am comforted by love from people, but I immediately think of two limits to that comfort.
Life in our present reality is transient. When you’re semi-nomadic, you come and go, and friends come and go. One challenge of being a single semi-nomad is that nobody comes and goes with you. Sometimes that is wearing. The comfort will run out, because the proximity we share will eventually be gone. The comfort of nearness waves goodbye from behind the security checkpoint, or rolls down the driveway, or stays behind on a muddy airstrip. The comfort of human love is limited by change.
Besides this, there is a human fear that if we were really known, we would not be accepted. In a strange irony, we enjoy the comfort of companionship; but we hide, just like our mother Eve behind her fig-leaf façade. Surely there would be an end of loving acceptance if all our failures, struggles, and sins were made plain. The comfort of human love is limited by fear of rejection.
Divine love is another kind. The comfort of God’s love is as limitless as He is. The omnipresent God never leaves. His presence fills the earth, and His Spirit fills me. Nothing can change His love for me or remove His presence from me (Rom 8:38-39; Ps 139:7-13). The comfort of God’s love is stable.
Safe in Christ, I do not fear rejection. There is no more for Him to discover about me that could end His love. Fully seen by the God Who searches and knows, I am yet loved – all the way to redemptive atonement. Wholly unworthy in the sight of utter perfection, I am yet loved.
I am received, not with passive resignation, but with active welcome. He did not roll His eyes and enter the broken reality of existence under humanity’s curse. He did not shrug and walk to the cross, carrying the weight of the cross and condemnation for my sin. He does not sigh and grudgingly concede a place at His table to repentant sinners.
No. His scandalous incarnation, righteous life, sacrificial death, glorious resurrection, and benevolent invitation are filled with passionate joy for His beloved.
This is a love that comforts eternally. He laid down His life for me, not when I was His friend – but when I was His enemy, and He would have me for His bride. Not because He knew the best of me – but because He knew all the very worst of me, and He would provide the salvation I could not earn.
If there any comfort of this love…since there is comfort of this love, then what?
Paul hasn’t reached his point yet. There are two remaining “if”’s to be considered.
Philippians 2:1 begins, “If there be therefore any consolation in Christ…”
I imagine a slight smile on Paul’s face as he authors these words. He has given thanks, prayed for the Philippians, and reported on his situation. In every thought, his language is laden with theological riches.
“The One Who started a good work in you will never stop until it is finished.”
“Your love may abound in knowledge and judgment…you can live discerning, blameless lives… don’t forget the Lord’s return… Jesus will fill your lives with a harvest of righteousness.”
“Though I’m suffering in prison, Christ sustains me by His Spirit! Christ’s gospel is advancing!”
“My life is Christ, and He is magnified if I live or if I die. Because I am His, I don’t fear death. I long to be with Him, but as long as I’m here, I will labor for your joy to abound in Christ as mine does.”
“As you presently suffer, keep on living a life that matches the gospel. Remain fearless in the face of affliction, and see your suffering as a gift. Because of Christ, everything ends well– even when we die.”
In our Bibles, there is a chapter division between 1:30 and 2:1. In Paul’s letter, he’s just continuing the thought to his next point. And this is where I imagine that slow smile spreading. Paul is about to make a serious appeal to his beloved church. But first, he will give them four bases for its obedience.
And this is the first: “If, beloved Philippians, you find any encouragement in Christ…”
Consider what he has just said, and see if there is indeed any encouragement to be found in Christ.
Though I see the plethora of ways I have failed to live in blameless love, Paul’s prayer (1:2-11) reminds me that Jesus is able and active to make me complete, mature in righteousness lived out to God’s glory and praise. My own sense of failure is no match for the encouragement of God’s guarantee to complete his work in me, by Jesus’ power.
Though present circumstances may seem less than favorable, Paul’s prison praise (1:12-19) reminds me that Jesus is able to turn any situation to salvation. My circumstances, however bleak, are no match for the encouragement of a Savior Whose cause advances on the wings of adversity.
Though death itself stares me down, Paul’s proclamation (1:19-26) reminds me that Jesus is glorified by both faithful living and faithful dying. My self-preservation instinct is no match for the encouragement of Jesus’ certain exaltation and my eventual departure to be with Him in joy forever.
Though affliction linger on, Paul’s promise (1:27-30) reminds me that Jesus gives his people the gift of knowing Him, even in the fellowship of His suffering (3:10). My despair at the prospect of pain is no match for the encouragement of Jesus’ presence to deliver me from fear and empower me to stand firm in the faith.
Within all these truths of Who Jesus is and what Jesus does, is there any encouragement?
Oh, yes. Consolation abounds in Christ. So if there is…since there is…then what?
Wait. This is only the first of four conditions upon which Paul will rest his next main point. For this moment, may our thoughts simply linger and our hearts find encouragement in the person and promises of Jesus.
High school and college graduations – they’re here again! Congratulations to the class of 2020! Here you are, concluding such a significant life chapter. We rejoice with you, and we all regret the things you missed in the final stretch of your senior year.
Though COVID-19 has drastically altered this year’s graduation experience, I imagine one constant will remain: card-sending and gift-giving. For Christians, this is a season to encourage young people we know and love to seek the Lord as they make decisions. What a great desire and opportunity! In that endeavor, there are several Scripture passages that find their way onto a plethora of cards, coffee cups, and journal covers.
One of them is always striking to me. Jeremiah 29:11. “For I know the thoughts that I think (the plans that I have) for you, saith the LORD, thoughts (plans) of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.” Yes, God has thoughts and plans of peace for His people, and that should be encouraging to the eighteen- or twenty-two-year-old tasked with making life decisions. I just can’t help but notice the irony of placing this verse in a context of congratulatory cards.
Its context in Jeremiah is prophecy of judgment. After descent into persistent idolatry, Judah has been razed by Babylon, and the survivors carried captive into their enemy’s country. Jeremiah tells them, “Settle in, far from home. Seek the prosperity of your oppressors’ city. I have placed you there. You will stay in Babylonian captivity for seventy years.”
And THEN we get to verse 11 and following. “I have good plans for you, after this nightmare of judgment is over. When you return to Me, I will again prosper you as I have promised. You broke your side of the covenant, but I always keep mine.”
We strip this verse of its power when we rip it out of context. This is a verse exalting the unwavering covenant faithfulness of God to His perpetually unfaithful people. Are there implications about God’s character that apply to graduates making life decisions? Sure.
If you are a Christian, even if you make all the wrong decisions and totally wreck your life as the Israelites did (which, of course, we hope and pray and expect you won’t), God will always be faithful to His promises. He will keep you. He will never let you go. You will not be destroyed. He will finish the work He started in you, and one day you will be made perfect in His presence. He will renew all things and give you a final home in His eternal kingdom, where you will remain with unending joy.
What a great thought for young people! Seek the Lord, and He will be found. Rest in His providence, always guiding and guarding you. Wherever you end up, love and serve whoever is around you. Labor for the peace and prosperity of others, and rest in the covenant faithfulness of God. You will have peace, because He keeps His promises.
“And Israel rebelled against the house of David unto this day.”
2 Chronicles 10:19
The days of division descend upon Israel. To fulfill the word of the Lord instating Jeroboam as a king, ten tribes rebel against Rehoboam.
What is a king to do? Rally an army, of course, and fight to restore unity. Rehoboam does exactly that. He gathers 180,000 warriors to bring the kingdom back. However, the word of the Lord intervenes.
“Go home, Rehoboam, you and all your warriors. Do not fight your brothers of the north. This division is My doing.”
Rehoboam, though foolish in his choice of counsel, has the good sense to obey God’s command. So the army disbands, and the southern tribes turn their attention to fortifying their cities.
And what of the north? Jeroboam’s first act as king is of terribly tragic consequence. Ironically, he fears losing what he did nothing to gain. He worries that the hearts of his new subjects will turn away from him if they must travel south to Jerusalem to worship God – the God Who gave him the throne.
Jeroboam accepts counsel, even more foolish than Rehoboam’s (1 Kings 12:28). He thinks he will protect his authority by establishing a new religion, so he fashions his own idols and altars. Knowing that the consecrated sons of Levi will never consent to practice demon worship, Jeroboam removes them from office and replaces them with anyone who can cut an animal’s throat and kindle a fire (v. 31).
What is a priest to do?
“…the Levites left their suburbs and their possession, and came to Judah and Jerusalem: for Jeroboam and his sons had cast them off from executing the priest’s office unto the LORD.”
2 Chronicles 11:14
They pack up and leave. They go to the place where they can faithfully fulfill their priestly work.
What do they leave? Their cities. Their pasture lands. Their possession. They hadn’t been allotted large tracts of land as the other tribes. All they had were these cities and small adjacent pastures where they could tend their cattle and raise their families, as they served God and His people (Numbers 35:1-5).
Last year in PNG, I gained a deeper appreciation for the importance of a family’s land. People will fight with frightening fervor over their ground. Their land is their heritage, their livelihood, and their children’s inheritance. Their identity – past, present, and future – is deeply rooted in that dirt they call home.
What would it mean to leave that and relocate? You’d be accepting unknowns about survival. How would you even find a new place to live? You couldn’t empty your bank account and go: your bank account has to walk along with you, needing fodder and pasture both during travel and at your destination. If you left your land, how would you provide for your family?
Yet these people made the decision. They left their possession. Why?
“Better to abandon our homes than to apostatize. Better that we risk our children suffering hunger, than that we risk our children worshiping idols.”
They truly believed that the LORD was their inheritance (Deut. 10:9). They feared God more than they feared financial instability. They loved God more than they loved the stuff He’d given them. So they walked away, rather than be led astray by the idolatry of popular culture.
May we so love the Lord our God that our life decisions are culturally radical but Biblically normal. May we seek God supremely, refusing to bow to the idols. May we prove our profession, that the better inheritance worth clinging to is God Himself.
The LORD is the portion of mine inheritance and of my cup: Thou maintainest my lot…Thou wilt show me the path of life: in Thy presence is fullness of joy; at Thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.
The last few sessions of translation checking had gone incredibly well. Pastor Ben, Brother Yali, and I had worked through three or four chapters each time, with very little discussion or meaningful corrections needed. I had hopes of finishing Luke yesterday.
Pastor Ben on the left, Brother Yali on the right
However, the end times teaching of Luke 21 is not as straightforward as simple narrative. Considering my still-growing abilities in a language like Pidgin that has a limited vocabulary, sentences like “there shall be…upon the earth the distress of nations, with perplexity; the sea and waves roaring” require a little more thought to sift through.
My brothers work very hard in multiple ministries, and sometimes they end up translating late at night. Laughing, they both said they had labored through Luke 21 when they were tired (not the most conducive for clarity in language work), so we all had plenty of questions for each other. It quickly became apparent that we would not finish Luke that day.
We did finish chapter 21, though, and moved back to narrative in 22.
Judas makes his plans to betray Jesus. Jesus sends Peter and John to prepare the Passover. They sit and eat together. Jesus breaks the bread and pours the wine, speaking of a new covenant and stirring hope for the coming kingdom. The disciples question who will betray the Master, and (oddly enough) who is the greatest among them. Jesus patiently instructs them (and us) in the path of the servant, again promising them the coming kingdom.
Then Jesus turns to Peter and says the words that would echo in his mind that night, and probably many nights following:
“Simon, Simon, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat; But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted, strengthen the brethren.”
Luke 22:31-32
I read the Pidgin text, and two words leaped off the page. Brother John had made them bold in his translation so they wouldn’t be missed. “Saimon, Saimon, Harim, Seten i bin strong long kisim yupela, bai em i ken sakim yupela…”
Yupela. Yupela? Really? That’s plural?
In Pidgin, second person pronouns (you – the person being spoken to) show the distinction between number, singular (yu) and plural (yupela). Back in the day, English did too, but no longer. Now we just say “you,” whether we are addressing one person, two people, or seventy-eight people.
So every time I have read Luke 22:31, for my entire life, I just assumed Jesus told Peter that Satan desired to have Peter, that he might sift Peter. I know the difference between the older usage of thou vs. ye and thee vs. you. But honestly? I have to make a confession: I don’t automatically read you as exclusively plural in Scripture, probably because I don’t anywhere else. However, when I read that text in Pidgin, the distinction of the plural yupela was obvious.
Greek distinguishes number for all pronouns too. I read the verse in Greek, and sure enough, there was the plural pronoun ὑμᾶς. What do you know? Wow…
The significance is striking. Jesus looks at Peter and says, “Simon, Simon, Satan has desired to have all of you. You yourself, and all your brothers gathered here. These men you have walked beside for three years — Satan desires to sift every single one of you. He has designs on your lives: all of them.”
Do you feel the gravity of His words? Jesus repeats his name: “Simon, Simon.” You get the impression He is looking deeply into Peter’s eyes, piercing to the depths of his soul. This is weighty. This is frightening. The enemy of all good desires to devour those you love, Peter. And Jesus leans in to speak to you of them.
So what can you do, Peter?
Jesus continues,
“But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted, strengthen the brethren.”
Here in verse 32, Jesus addresses Peter singularly. “I am praying for you, Peter, in particular. Your faith will not fail. You will falter, but you will turn again to Me. And then you will strengthen your brothers to face the enemy’s attacks.”
What reassurance this would be for Peter! Within hours, he will plunge to depths of despair, doubt, and then regret. But Jesus tells him, before the chaos of that night begins, that he will turn again. Jesus doesn’t command that Peter should return, He just says that Peter will return. That part is a fact, not an imperative depending on Peter’s volition for fulfillment.
Because Jesus has prayed for Peter, he will not be lost. Even his foray into faithlessness will be redeemed; and Peter will then establish the faith of his brothers, whom Satan has desired to destroy.
It’s a fabulous story of patient providence. So how are those plural pronouns helpful?
Well, they remind us of the importance of the church. The attacks coming to the disciples were both individual and collective, but they were not to face the onslaught alone. Jesus gave them each other, and he particularly marked Peter as a leader who would help them all be strong. Our faith needs community, and our faith needs the spiritual leadership of pastors and elders (Hebrews 10:23-25; 13:7).
Those pronouns also show us a picture bigger than the testing of one individual. Peter would fall, but God was sovereign even over that sin. God did not tempt Peter to unbelief, for He doesn’t do that (James 1:13-16). Yet, Peter’s testing, departure, and subsequent return were all components of a greater work God was doing: strengthening His men for the battle and work ahead. Even in our temptations, there is always a greater story unfolding than what we can presently see.
Decades after that conversation in the upper room, an old man picks up a pen and writes a letter to beloved believers under duress. And that letter, 1 Peter, was inspired by God to serve generations of suffering Christians. In the Scriptures, Peter is still strengthening the brethren.
He closes out that letter with these words:
“Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary, the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: whom resist stedfast in the faith, knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in your brethren that are in the world. But the God of all grace, Who hath called us unto His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you.”
1 Peter 5:8-10
Yupela have an adversary who is seeking to devour. He still desires to have yupela, to destroy yupela. Remember that you are not alone, remain stedfast in the faith, and resist the lion.
Your afflictions “are accomplished.” They are being completed, fulfilled. There is purpose behind them. Just as Peter’s testing that night in Jerusalem was part of God’s greater purpose in strengthening His people, so is yours.
Be encouraged, follower of Jesus. Whatever we are suffering, including the enemy’s attacks, is not outside the realm of God’s care. We may falter, but our faith will not fail; for God Himself, the God of all grace, is the One Who purchases, provides, and preserves our faith (1 Peter 1:3-5; 2 Peter 1:1,3; 2 Peter 2:9).
“To Him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.”
In 1 Kings 17, Elijah strides onto the stage of Scripture with holy fire in his eyes and divine authority in his voice.
“As the Lord God of Israel liveth, before whom I stand, there shall not be dew nor rain these years, but according to my word!” 1 Kings 17:1
I have marveled at Elijah’s ministry before. His passion, his capacity for emotional response, and his showdowns with Ahab and Baal’s false prophets — these make for fabulous stories. Flannelgraph just doesn’t do the drama justice, though it is easy to see why Elijah is a Sunday school favorite.
While the prophet Elijah feels like a familiar friend, something was new when my pastor here in the bush taught 1 Kings 17 this morning. Living in another culture expands our perspective, enabling us to view Scripture through eyes not our own (which is important, since no Scripture was penned from a Western worldview).
May I invite you to see 1 Kings 17 with me and my friends in PNG?
———
King Ahab has led the northern kingdom into the evil of Baal worship. The people who bear God’s name have broken His covenant. Judgment is coming, and it will be a great “hevi” for the entire nation: no rain or dew for three years. (Hevi is a Pidgin word used for a burden, a problem, a trial – anything that is “heavy” to bear up.)
What happens if it doesn’t rain for three years? The rivers and streams dry up. The trees and grass wither and die. Food doesn’t grow, and people starve. No rain means people will die.
My friends understand what that is like. They have suffered through droughts when their gardens didn’t yield and their families were hungry, and so they click their tongues knowingly at the severity of three years with no rain.
After Elijah announces this judgment, what happens? God gives him very specific directions. God will provide for His prophet, but Elijah must follow the word God gives Him. This is a hevi for him too: everybody suffers when there is no rain. But in Elijah’s suffering, he still obeys the Lord. And God provides by the brook Cherith.
(In the Pidgin Bible, Cherith is rendered Kerit, although every reading of that word is followed by a dozen whispers, “Cherith,” since a missionary by that name is known and loved here.)
This provision is strange! Did God cook the meat for Elijah and then give it to the ravens for delivery? Or did God send raw meat for Elijah to cook and eat? The Bible doesn’t say, and we smile as we wonder. Either way, Elijah obeyed God during the hevi, and God provided for him.
After some time, of course, the brook Cherith dries up. The hevi continues. Again, God gives a command, and again, Elijah obeys. Now, another character is introduced. Elijah is sent to a widow and her one son.
A widow’s life is hard, harder still during drought and famine. This woman has survived so far, but she is down to her last reserve of food with no hope of finding more. There is no Wal-Mart or welfare. She can’t get more food, and so she expects to die, probably after watching her son die.
(The son seems to be little, since mom is the one gathering the sticks, and later we read that she held her son in her arms. Little children can crash so quickly when sickness comes after malnutrition, so he probably would have died first.)
Elijah dares to request water from a widow, during a drought. She doesn’t hesitate, but goes to fetch it, which speaks well of her grace and hospitality. And then the stakes are raised. “Bring me some food too.”
Of course, her food supply is short. She tells Elijah she doesn’t have enough for him and her son. The prophet tells her to not be afraid, but to make food for him first…and then she’ll still have some for herself and the boy, because God promises to provide for them all.
Naturally, she would be afraid of fulfilling Elijah’s request. She has probably already seen other people’s children die. She has made every effort to protect her son from that fate. So now she has a choice. In her hevi, will she fear death and do what she thinks best? Or will she believe the prophet’s promise and obey his order?
She does the same thing Elijah has been doing every day of this hevi. She obeys the word of the Lord. And God provides for her and her household.
They must have been so happy, every day! They must have been singing and praising God every time they ate the food He miraculously provided for them.
But then, another hevi comes, greater than hunger. The widow’s son is taken by some sickness. His sickness grows greater until he dies.
We know what that looks like. The people sitting around me have watched children fall prey to sickness, progressively worsening, until they are past recovery…and they die. We hear Pastor Ben read 1 Kings 17:17, and we know what that means.
So the mother responds with a question. “Why did this happen? It must be because of my sin. It couldn’t just have happened because the world is broken and cursed. Surely someone is responsible for bringing this hevi.” Adding to her agony, she feels that it’s her own fault.
My friends understand this too. The worldview they grew up with reasons that if someone becomes sick or dies, there has to be a cause. Did someone work witchcraft against him? Did the sick person do something wrong that brought the hevi as retribution? Who is responsible? Finding that out is critically important. If the sufferer is to be healed, someone must discover the source of the hevi.
Where does this mother take her question and grief? She doesn’t summon a witch doctor to blow on her son’s body in ritual. She carries her dead child to Elijah, the man of God.
When we are going through a hevi, where do we look for help? We must take our hevis TO God, instead of turning our back on Him. This woman shows us what that looks like.
Elijah doesn’t answer her questions. He just takes the child from her arms and carries him upstairs. He lays the limp little body onto his own bed and weeps, asking God why He sent this hevi.
My friends have done this too. They have deeply mourned in dark, smoke-filled huts, crouching around a child’s body. There is no mask for death here. No funeral homes, no padded caskets, no embalming. Just a haus krai the day or two (typically) after the last breath, and a burial following. They stroke the arms and legs and face of their beloved, tears streaming and voices wailing. So they understand this widow’s hevi. They see it.
Then what does Elijah do? Does he work magic over the little boy? No. He simply leans over the child and prays. God doesn’t respond. Elijah repeats the action and request. Still no response. Elijah continues.
And God hears his prophet’s voice, and He raises the child back to life. Elijah carries him downstairs and gives him back to his mother, who declares (can we assume through tears of rejoicing?), “You are a man of God, and the words that you speak must truly come from the Lord!”
What can we learn from 1 Kings 17? God provides for His people. And it is foolish and sinful to turn our back to God when hevis come. We must stand strong in the faith of our God, and carry our hevis to Him.
———
As Pastor concluded the sermon this morning, I wondered, “But when there is no reviving, what then? What about when the child dies and isn’t raised? What about when the ravens don’t come and God’s people are hungry?”
For the LORD God is a sun and shield: the LORD will give grace and glory: no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly.
Psalm 84:11
God always provides Himself, even if He (in infinite wisdom) doesn’t provide what we asked for. Sometimes His kind providence leaves us lacking lesser things so He can satisfy us more deeply with Himself.
The hevi of a child’s sickness and death can crush the soul. So can chronic pain. And broken relationships. And a thousand other forms of suffering that flow from the fountainhead of the fall. But like God’s people in 1 Kings 17, may we carry our hevis to our God, to the Savior Who already carried them on the cross. For “surely, He hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows.”
Ours is the God Who always provides for His people. He is our help, a very present help, in all our hevis.
“…Pitau inä Jono’oi inä Jemsi’oi namäma, inä e prea hiuna qimanga hipaka fatiunta.”
“Em i kisim Pita na Jon na Jems, na ol i go antap long wanpela maunten bilong beten.”
Hm. “Beten” or “prea.” Interesting how words get added to a trade language like Pidgin. Brother Yali back translated “prea” instead of “beten”…pretty sure they mean the same thing though…
Pastor Ben nodded beside me as Brother Yali read, occasionally adding a low, “mmmm” as he read and edited the Kamea translation in front of him. Today was my first chance to get into the translation project, and it was exciting.
Pastor and Brother Yali hard at work, joined by Pastor’s son, Izzy
My part was simple. As Brother Yali reads what he translated from Kamea back into Pidgin, I read the source text. I look for differences and ask questions. I loved sitting at the desk, sifting through the words of Luke 9. The Word is sweet in any language, but viewing it through the lenses of four languages is even richer.
Verse 28 brought us to the Mount of Transfiguration. What a story! What a sight! The glory of Jesus unveiled blazed with a light so stunning, the closest comparison is the sun itself. What a precious moment for those who stood near Him that day, and what a hope for us who wait to see His face as they did!
I have savored this story before, but I had never noticed the topic of discussion on the mountaintop.
“And behold, there talked with him two men, which were Moses and Elias: who appeared in glory, and spake of His decease which He should accomplish at Jerusalem.”
Luke 9:30-31
Hm. His “decease.” His death. Wait…
I had Bibleworks open, and as I skimmed over a variety of translations, I noticed that almost every other English translation read, “his departure.”
My settings in Bibleworks display any textual variants between Greek texts in purple. I glanced down the window, looking for purple. Nope. Just black…which means the Greek text underlying the King James reads the same as the text underlying these other versions.
So why “decease” in the KJV and “departure” in all these others? This calls for some etymological digging.
Decease comes from the Latin word decedere, meaning “to depart, to die.” Word usage can change in a matter of decades. Centuries have passed since forty-seven brilliant men labored over the English word choices that they crafted into the majesty of the King James Version. I think it’s safe to say that the word decease probably brought to mind “departure” when it was chosen for this verse, though modern usage seems to limit decease to death.
So what’s the underlying Greek word here? What I found was exciting. Moses and Elijah came to that mountain and spoke with Jesus of His ἔξοδος – transliterated, His exodus. His exodus.
This word is used three times in the New Testament. In 2 Peter 1:15 it refers to Peter’s imminent death as a departing. Since he will be leaving this world soon, he wants the believers to remember the things he’s writing to them. The word also appears in Hebrews 11:22, where we see Joseph’s faith in his speaking of the ἔξοδος of the Israelites from Egypt.
That was a great exodus, and Moses was a great prophet. But here in Luke 9, Moses stands face-to-face with the Prophet like him, but greater than he (Deut. 18:15; Acts 3:22; Acts 7:37). They are not discussing the exodus of slaves from Egypt, but a greater exodus that Jesus would soon accomplish.
So how is the exodus of Jesus greater than that of Moses?
Moses’ exodus was preceded by signs and wonders that brought death and destruction to God’s enemies in Egypt.
Jesus’ exodus was preceded by signs and wonders that brought health and life to God’s people.
Moses turned the Nile River to blood, bringing thirst and corruption.
Jesus shed His blood to extend to us the cup of His covenant, quenching our eternal thirst.
Moses brought darkness upon Egypt in wrath and judgment.
When Jesus hung on the cross, darkness covered the earth as God poured out wrath and judgment on Him.
Moses raised his rod to the sky and brought down icy fire that destroyed crops and left people hungry.
Jesus took upon Himself all the fire of the Father’s wrath, so He could provide forgiveness for the destitute.
Moses’ fingers sifted through a fistful of ashes, covering the Egyptians’ bodies with boils, leaving them writhing in agony.
Jesus’ body was broken, writhing in agony on the cross to spare us eternal torment.
Moses’ exodus brought the institution of the Passover, in which God’s people sacrificed lambs to spare their children from death at the hands of God’s avenging angel.
Jesus’ exodus brought the fulfillment of the Passover, in which He sacrificed Himself as the Lamb of God to spare all His people from eternal death at the hands of God’s just vengeance for our sins.
Moses’ rod rained down wrath upon God’s enemies.
Jesus placed Himself under the rod of the Father’s wrath, so that WE, God’s enemies, would be spared the condemnation we deserve.
Moses led God’s people to freedom from temporal slavery in Egypt.
Jesus leads His people to freedom from eternal slavery in sin.
After leading the escape through the Red Sea, Moses called the waters to return to their place, drowning the armies of Egypt, rendering them unable to threaten harm ever again.
Jesus brought the ultimate defeat of our greatest enemies: sin, Satan, and death. He broke sin’s power over us by finishing God’s wrath for our iniquities. He used Satan’s own murderous plan to slay his strength. And finally, He vanquished death by rising victorious from its clutches.
Moses “was faithful in all his house, as a servant, for a testimony of those things which were to be spoken after.” (Hebrews 3:1-6)
“But Christ, as a son over His own house…” Jesus fulfilled all of Moses’ testimony, and accomplished a greater exodus.
“Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider him that endured such contradiction of sinners against himself, lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds.”
