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

Salvation belongs to the Lord.
Psalm 3:8

Psalm 3 is said to be written by David when he was fleeing from his own son, Absalom.  This is the same man who, a few decades earlier, had been fleeing from the reigning king of Israel, Saul.  The same man who charged into battle against Goliath.  The same man who is said to have slain ten thousands in battle.  David knew something about dependence…and he knew that salvation belongs to the Lord.

Like David, we take nothing of worth to the case of our salvation.  All of our righteous deeds are like filthy rags ((Isaiah 64:6).  Any presentation of our own case works to indict us…not save us.  If we are to be saved, in any and every case, it is entirely because of God.  One song that captures this well is Augustus Toplady’s classic hymn, Rock of Ages.

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy wounded side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Save from wrath and make me pure.

When we get out of the way and stop trying to contribute to our own salvation, then we hide in Christ.  The most fruitful and appropriate action for us to take in salvation is to hide in Christ.  Only there can be we saved from the wrath of God.  Only there can we have our blood-stained garments washed pure.

Not the labor of my hands
Can fulfill Thy law’s demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and Thou alone.

Yet, we do try…don’t we.  We rest in the confidence of our own efforts, in the contribution of our service, in the depth of our sorrow over sin.  Our hands, our zeal, our tears are all wonderful when deployed in service to Christ, but useless in salvation.  If we are to be saved, it must be God alone.

Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress;
Helpless, look to Thee for grace;
Foul, I to the fountain fly;
Wash me, Savior, or I die.

Lower…still lower.  Whatever perspective we have of our own sin…no matter how humbled we are by it…it is never low enough to be accurate.  Toplady declares the simple truth: We ought bring nothing in our hands.  All that we have…all the good that we’ve achieved…all comes from God.  Paul tells us this in 1 Corinthians 4:7 when he says, “What do you have that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if you did not receive it?”  We come naked…we come helpless.  And we receive dress and grace.

While I draw this fleeting breath,
When my eyes shall close in death,
When I rise to worlds unknown,
And behold Thee on Thy throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.

And when all of life is through, should we be given final moments of reflection, we will look back on the fruit and grace poured through us and see only the fingerprints of Christ.  We pass through death to eternal life and we rise to worlds unknown.  We do it on the merits of Christ.  We rest only in the work of Christ.  When we are at our best…functioning purely and totally in grace…we hide in Christ.

What a God we have to treasure.  What great news we have to proclaim.  When we know something of dependence, we share the same vantage point as King David.  We say humbly…we saw thankfully…we say with great jubilation… “Salvation belongs to the Lord!”  Our God saves.

by Trish Donohue 

Someone is staring at me as I write.  He’s a black and orange Flyer’s player, made of Lego’s and standing on my end table.  Although I’m sure he’s supposed to be vicious, holding his stick so seriously, he’s actually very cute and his orange eyes seem to be smiling at me.

He must not know about Stubey the hamster dying today, or his orange eyes would be crying, like some eyes in our house were earlier.  A friend, no matter how small and furry, is a hard thing to lose.  

Fortunately, we had ice cream sandwiches on hand, which lessened the grief better than any bouquet of flowers ever could. 

Little snapshots at the end of the day:  Flyers Guy, an empty hamster cage, and an ice cream sandwich wrapper that was supposed to be in the trash.  Together representing the joys and tragedies of childhood, the highs and lows of the growing heart. 

Do these snapshots hold any value?  Do we file them under “trivialities” or “childishness” and turn the page quickly?

Jesus says, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?  And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.  But even the hairs of your head are all numbered.  Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.”

And so it is with our children.  Jesus knows and cares about the tiniest details of their lives, and orchestrates events that point them to him.

A Flyers game, with its jubilant cheers and agonizing disappointments, is an arrow pointing to God.  Where do we put our hope?  What makes us most excited?  What victory do we dream of?

A hamster’s death, with appropriate tears and questions of hamster heaven is an arrow pointing to God.  Time flies so quickly.  What will heaven be like?  Why do things die on this earth?

An ice cream sandwich, with its hydrogenated, processed yumminess and brown cookie crumbs glued to your teeth, is an arrow pointing to God.  There are blessings and treats on earth that come from the hand of a fun-loving, food-loving God.

Do we lecture our kids about all these truths and turn every event into a sermon series?  God, keep us from it!  But help us to seize the opportunities you provide, and wisely show them that you are the end of all they seek.

By Jared Mellinger

One of the great lessons we learn from the life of Robert Murray M’Cheyne is the importance of redeeming the time.  He is a man who truly desired to spend every day “Making the best use of the time” (Eph 5:16).

M’Cheyne lived with an awareness that life would not last forever.  On his 21st birthday, he mentioned in his journal that a friend had died at the age of 31, and then M’Cheyne reflected on the question of how long he himself would live.  In his culture, he had the experience of being surrounded with people who frequently became ill and passed away.  This served as a reminder of the brevity of life and the importance of eternal things.  When others died, he seized it as an opportunity to cultivate an eternal perspective on life. 

We never know how long we are going to live.  M’Cheyne didn’t know he was only going to live to the age of 29.  But had he known this, I don’t think he would have lived any differently.  He knew that a long life is not guaranteed, and it changed the way he lived.  It is doubtful that he would have accomplished as much good as he did during his short life apart from this wise perspective on life and death.      

One of the practices that helped M’Cheyne redeem the time was keeping a journal.  His journal reflected short but faithful entries.  He believed this played an important role in his spiritual health because “it ensures sober reflection on the events of the day as seen in God’s eye”.  It was a means of accountability, and it served him well. 

His biographer, Andrew Bonar, tells us that “after spending an evening too lightly,” M’Cheyne wrote the following in his journal: “My heart must break off from all these things.  What right have I to steal and abuse my Master’s time?  ‘Redeem it,’ he is crying to me”.  And on a different occasion he wrote: “Little done, and as little suffered.  Awfully important question—Am I redeeming the time?”  He believed that time itself was something entrusted to him by God.  We are stewards of time, and time is a precious gift from God that must not be squandered.  This doesn’t mean we don’t know how to relax, have fun, and enjoy vacations.  It simply means we live with an awareness that we will answer to God for our use of our time, and desire to please our Heavenly Father in all we do.   

He also redeemed the time by using all the resources available to him to grow in godliness: not only journaling, but also confessing sin, seeking out the counsel of his friends, living his life in community, studying passages of Scripture that were relevant to his particular struggles, and reading the biographies of men whose lives challenged him to grow.

M’Cheyne’s redeeming of the time resulted in much study of God’s word, much reading of good books, much evangelism, much care for the poor, much fellowship, and much prayer.  His life teaches us to make the best use of the time we have: to view time itself as a valuable gift from a generous Father, and to live with an awareness that our lives in this world will not last forever.  As those redeemed by Christ to receive adoption as children of God, we make it our aim to please him every moment of every day. 

Redeem the time!

Posted by Andy Farmer

 

I turned 50 last week.  People ask me how if feels – a half century old.  I can’t really tell much difference from 49.  But I did have one of those ‘whoa, I’m not a young man anymore’ moments on my birthday. 

 

I have always had this tendency to judge my age by how I mentally picture people I read about in a newspaper.  For so long when I would read, ‘the suspect was a 50 year old white male….’  I’d think ‘what is an old coot doing something stupid like that for?’.  Now I’m that guy – or at least could be a candidate for a police line-up in the investigation. 

 

But I’ve had another more helpful insight on my birthday as well.  I’ve just started reading a book in my devotions called Keeping the Heart by Puritan pastor John Flavel.  In his introduction I came across something that seemed to be a birthday present from the Spirit of God.  Flavel writes,

 

“Remember that you are at the door of eternity and have other work to do”

 

Puritan paragraphs can wear me out, but Puritan sentences wake me up.  So what does this sentence do for me?  One of my defining characteristics is how long it takes me to leave somewhere.  I admire people who pick up the keys and go.  But my family and friends have always marveled at how many things can distract me between going and gone.  I’ll be headed to the door and then suddenly realize it’s a perfect time to change that light bulb to a higher wattage, download that song, fix that door handle…..  then get to the car with no keys in my hand.  Common sense says that to get anywhere in a timely way the best course of action is to forget everything else and walk out the door. 

 

But Flavel helps me see that there’s one door that we will all go through that isn’t best approached with expediency.  The door of eternity is coming closer and closer to me.  Age makes it all the more real and all the more interesting.  But I want to reach for that door intensely distracted by the work of the Kingdom yet to be done while I’m here.  I want to go through that door a busy man; maybe even surprised that I’m leaving because I’m focused on the other work I have to do.  That’s the prayer of this newly minted fifty year old coot.

Posted by Andy Farmer

At the end of his excellent book, In Christ Alone, Sinclair Ferguson includes a letter written by a close friend and colleague from Westminster Seminary, Dr. Al Groves.  It is a letter written by Dr. Groves to be read at his own memorial service.  In the last stages of a battle with cancer, Dr. Groves looked to those he would leave behind.  Gentlemen, read this excerpt from the letter and ask yourself, ‘if I could speak to the people attending my funeral, what would I say?’. 

As I have walked through the valley of the shadow of death, I have walked hand in hand with Jesus, the one who has already walked through that valley and come out the other side, alive, raised from the dead.  And as I hold his hand and trust him, I too am raised with him, for this was his purpose in walking that path: to raise those who trusted in him.  His rod and staff, his cross of suffering, have become my comfort.
            Now as I have died, I come before the God, the king of the universe, and I come in Christ.  He chose to suffer and die on the cross in my place, so that on account of him I might have forgiveness from sin and victory over death.  And now I have received the resurrection and eternal life that has been my only hope, past, present, and forever….
            Through all my life, Christ has been constant.  Even as I have grown and changed, he is still the one whom I loved that first day.  And nothing ever changed in how I came to him; every day of my life the story is the same: I have come to God in Christ.  His love for me has been steadfast, and he has pursued me through every time I have turned way from him and every time I have returned.  The constant prayer of my heart for my own life and the lives of those around me has been that we would see Jesus, and that he would be welcome and present among us.
            There may be some here who have never trusted Christ for life, who have never known that he is the answer to the sin and death in our lives.  I urge you to consider the claims he made to being the Son of God, to consider that he didn’t stay dead and sends a message down through the ages that there is life in him and him alone.  His death on a cross, humiliating though it seemed, was his glory, but which he has defeated our true enemies – sin and death.  By the ultimate sacrifice he made, he humiliated all powers arrayed against him.
            If you struggle with faith, let me encourage you that in the hardest moments I have faced, he has been there.  And death has been defeated.  I am in Christ, as you are in Christ.  So let us live out of the grace we have received.  Let us live out of Christ.  This means looking daily for him, asking him to open your eyes to him, and embracing what you see.
           Seek him with all your heart.  Love him with all your heart.  Love those he loves with all your heart, even to the laying down of your life for him.  Jesus, the way, the truth, the life.  In no other do we have hope.  But in him we have hope that endures forever.  We grieve, but we grieve with hope.  The hope of a resurrection; the hope of life eternal.  Together with Jesus.
            For most of my Christian life I have wanted to see Jesus face to face, to join in with the heavenly chorus in his presence around his royal throne and declare his praise in new ways.  Something else has grown through the years: an abiding sense that this is not for me alone.  Being with Jesus myself is not what he wants, nor is it what I want.  To be there with you all, those he loves and those I have come to love, that is true joy.  I have often thought of coming to heaven as Jesus standing at the finish line of a race waiting those looking for him, trusting in him, pursuing him.  But it isn’t a race for me to finish first or alone.  It has always been a race for us to finish together, arm in arm, having encouraged one another in faith.
            He is good.  From the beginning, his steadfast love has endured.  It endures forever.  He is a gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love.  Trust in him with all your heart, for he is faithful.

As quoted in Sinclair Ferguson.  In Christ Alone.  235-237