By Andy Farmer

I was talking recently to a pastor from another church about differences in the way our congregations are being led and built. We realized that we agreed on far more things than we were different. One difference we talked about was eschatology – the study of the final things. We differ in our understanding of how God is going to wrap up this glorious salvation project we call history. We affirm the same Gospel but we differ on the end times – so much so that we realize that we can do ministry together, but we probably couldn’t build a church together. What you believe about the end times will shape how you build the church in present times.

Historically there have been a number of different ways of understanding and applying the very challenging apocalyptic passages in the Bible. Sadly, many churches and believers have done great harm to themselves and others by taking their end times speculation well beyond what the scriptures actually teach. But within the Gospel-believing communion of faith, you can have some diversity in understanding the eschatology of the Bible. And since we are dealing with things that are to play out in the future, it is wise that we hold our own eschatology with humble hearts and minds.

As pastors, we want to avoid using eschatology as a calling card. In other words, we don’t want our church known for its views of the millennium, or what the mark of the beast really means, etc. – we want to be known for the Gospel. We also want to avoid using eschatology as a litmus test – whether we accept someone as a brother or sister in good standing based on whether they are getting ready for the Rapture or not. Eschatology should matter to us because Jesus is coming back and resolving everything that went wrong when sin entered the universe through man. That should stir our hearts to great hope and confidence. It should motivate us to reach out to the lost. And it should keep us serious and sober in a foolish world, as Peter called us.

Since all these things are thus to be dissolved, what sort of people ought you to be in lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God. (2Peter 3:1-12a)

If you'd like to get a recent take on how we work in this area of eschatology, Jeff Purswell gives a great brief summary of what's important in our thinking in the following post:

http://www.sovereigngraceministries.org/Blog/post/The-Last-One-Jeff-Purswell-Eschatology.aspx

By Rob Flood

Convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with you all, for your progress and joy in the faith, so that in me you may have ample cause to glory in Christ Jesus, because of my coming to you again. (Philippians 1:25-26)

Paul has arrived at the conclusion that, for him, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If he lives, he continues to bear fruit in the mission Christ has set before him. If he dies, he rests from his labors in the eternal rest of his King and his Savior.

He becomes convinced that he will remain living and not die to be with the Lord just yet. But he remains, not out of resignation, but with distinct purpose. His life, lived in the fullness of the gospel, will be lived for the purpose of others. It will be lived for their progress in the faith and their joy in the faith. His words, actions, and affections will be sown into the Philippians for their progress and joy.

We have been joined with others in life. Some of us through natural birth, some through new birth, some through marriage and some through the birth of our own children. And, as Christ tarries, we know we will continue with all of these people in our lives.

As we labor daily for the health of our marriages, what will give definition to our efforts? As we learn new boundaries of our weaknesses and limitations in our parenting, will we allow God himself to define our purpose as parents?

When we live for the progress of others, we strive for their godliness and growth. We want what is best for them in the Lord and we want it for them. We do not pursue this so that our marriage or home is better, but so that they would know the true person and character of God more fully. But if we do this absent a goal for their joy, we run the risk of embittering them toward God. We risk setting up our love as an achievement goal rather than something that we freely offer. Wanting the progress of our spouse or our children is insufficient.

When we live for the joy of others, we strive for them to experience the gladness of God in their lives. We want them happy. We want them to enjoy the life they live. Again, not just because their happiness leads to our own, but because our love desires their joy for them. But if we do this absent a goal for their progress in the Lord, we run the risk of living lives defined by whether those in our lives are happy with us. We risk seeking their joy at the expense of their godliness.

Paul’s understanding of a life purchased by Christ led him to one conclusion: if Christ tarries, my life will be purposed for the progress and joy of others. Either one or the other might be a simple endeavor. But to accomplish both…that is a task of divine proportions.

When we continue with our children or our spouse for their progress and joy in the faith, we bring adjustment without anger. We bring concern without judgment. We bring levity and relatability without compromise. We fan the flame of the one without smothering the other. The call is not optional…we receive it if Christ, in his wisdom, tarries and leaves us remaining on earth.

While not optional, the call is humbling. It is far beyond us. So we must pray. We must repent when we breech the balance. We should fall on our faces in gratitude when we achieve the balance.

God graciously gives us this filter through which we may evaluate our motives and methods. Knowing that our lives are to be lived for others’ progress and joy in the faith gives us a wonderful tool. The result: those in our lives will have “ample cause to glory in Christ Jesus.”

By Trish Donohue

I'm currently reading the kids "Anne of Green Gables".  It's a stretch for the boys, but I promised they'd like it, despite its lack of explosions and guy stuff.  And they do.  If you haven't read it, Anne is an orphan girl adopted by a pair of elderly siblings who ends up changing the small town through her charming personality.  She gets herself in "scrapes", but always comes out even more lovable than before.  You can't help liking her.

What makes her such a great main character?

• She's passionate about everything:  Nature, learning, friendships.
• She's incredibly imaginative, turning simple life into magical fantasies.
• She's smart as a whip and even her outbursts are insightful.  Her descriptions are stirring, her rhetoric is flawless, her recitations move the town to tears.
• All this, and she remains for the most part a faithful, simple girl.

After reading the book, you want to be like her.  But the fact is, few of us are.  Most of us are, truthfully, not that exceptional.  We're not moving people to tears with our oratory, we're not changing the world with our natural cheer, we're not winning first prize at anything, and we think of good retorts only after the conversation is over.  Some of us are dull, even downright awkward, and pretty un-Anne-like.

Who would bother putting us in their story?

Flip open to 1 Corinthians 1:

For consider your calling, brothers:  not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth.

Ouch, but true!

But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.

God chose us.  The Author chose us.  Like Moses, Jacob, David, Peter, Mary Magdalene, and so many others on His leading character list, we're hopelessly flawed.  But He chose our slow tongues, our dull minds, our checkered pasts, and incorporated us into His story.  Not only that, but He adopted us orphans as His own children.  Amazing!

The passage ends like this:

And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, "Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord".

It doesn't matter if I'm not impressive:  It matters if I'm "in Christ Jesus".  It doesn't matter if my kids aren't winning blue ribbons and charm contests:  God chooses even the weak.

Unlike the books that we enjoy, what matters in this story isn't the quality of the characters, but the quality of the author who, in this case, really is worth boasting about.

By Jared Mellinger

A couple weeks ago I introduced an 18th century author and pastor by the name of Thomas Adam. The book Private Thoughts on Religion is a collection of Adam’s journal entries that were published after his death.

Here are some entries on the theme of sin and grace that are worthy of careful reflection and meditation:

“The more I am terrified with a sight and sense of sin, the more precious Christ is, and the faster I lay hold on him.” (p. 92)
 

“To comprehend the breadth and length, and depth and height of the love of Christ, we must first take the dimensions of our own sin.” (p. 167)
 

“Faith does not consist in thinking that my sins are comparatively little, and therefore may be forgiven; but in knowing that they are very great, and believing that, though they are never so many and great, past or present, Christ’s blood is above them all.” (p. 172)
 

“When sin, past and present, appears in its true shape, with all its horrid malignity, and desert of damnation, then is the time for a full sight of Christ. And O how gloriously does ‘the Sun of Righteousness arise,’ to the benighted, sin-burdened soul, ‘with healing in his wings!’ How sweet is mercy! How precious the name Jesus! And how dear his blood to the awakened guilty conscience!” (p. 183)
 

“Remembrance of sin, and sense of redeeming mercy will be the ground of praise and thanksgiving to God and the Lamb for ever in heaven.” (p. 184)
 

“The moment we think that we have no sin, we shall desert Christ.” (p. 212)

By Doug Hayes

Church history has taught us that ministries of mercy are often erroneously equated with evangelism. Even today, some would say that we proclaim the gospel by meeting physical needs, breaking the chains of oppression and setting people free from multigenerational conditions of poverty and suffering. At best, evangelism is an afterthought; at worst, it’s not a thought at all, or it’s presumed to be inherent in deeds that reflect God’s justice and mercy.

On the other hand, some would claim that it’s not the mission of the church to care for the poor at all. They would view a strong emphasis on social justice as inherently worldly, an exchange of the eternally glorious, life-giving gospel for the culturally popular goal of making poverty history. The job of the church is to evangelize, not to combat poverty. After all, they might argue, what good is it to fill the stomachs of people who are on their way to hell?

So which one is it? Is the church to be concerned with evangelism, or is care for the poor supposed to be a high priority for God’s people?

Yes.

It is the job of the church to preach the gospel, and it is the job of the church to care for the poor. Too often, these two high callings are treated as an “either-or” proposition, but Scripture calls us to a “both-and” embracing of the two. We are called very clearly to preach the gospel, and we are called very clearly to serve the poor. One should not be done to the exclusion of the other, nor does our obedience to one fulfill our mandate for the other.

It’s important to recognize the difference between evangelism and mercy ministry. They are members of the same family, but they are not one and the same. The former is the all-important proclamation of the gospel, the latter a demonstration of the gospel’s effect on the life of the one who would proclaim it. Both are beautiful displays of the many-faceted mercies of God, whose compassions come in many colors though they flow from one source in the cross. And both are priorities that must find expression in our lives if we are to be faithful to our calling as disciples of Christ.

I believe that we as Christians need to become more comfortable with the fact that God is glorified through our merciful actions, regardless of whether or not they lead to the salvation of the person we’re ministering to. If you faithfully care for a suffering friend or family member over a period of years, yet that person dies without Christ, you have not wasted your time. You have greatly glorified God through perseverant, merciful action! This may seem like a startling statement at first, but Scripture does not command us to serve marginalized and suffering people merely as a pretense for evangelism. We care for the poor as a means of reflecting the merciful and loving character of God. When we faithfully do that, his name is glorified. The eternal results are his alone to determine.

Does this mean we’re off the hook for evangelism? Can we simply care for people’s physical needs and leave it to God to make the gospel known to them? No. The greatest mercy of all – the mercy that makes all other mercies possible – is God’s desire to forgive repentant sinners through faith in Jesus Christ. If we neglect this greatest mercy, can we honestly call ourselves compassionate people?

When Paul and Barnabas received their commission from the other apostles to take the gospel to the Gentiles, they were specifically exhorted to "remember the poor" (Gal. 2:10). Despite their primarily evangelistic mission – in terms of salvation history, perhaps the most important evangelistic mission ever – they were not excused from the priority of serving the poor.

And don’t you love Paul? This man is not looking for excuses! Rather, he says that remembering the poor was the very thing he was eager to do. Regardless of his unique role as evangelist and church planter, Paul was eager to be a “both-and” Christian.

Where the gospel is preached, it is to be accompanied by care for the poor. Where the poor are relieved of their suffering, it is to be done in the name of Christ with the good news of the gospel on our lips. May these two towering mandates of Scripture be for us – as they were for Paul – the very thing we are eager to do, for the glory of God and the advancement of his kingdom.