Jon Bloom's Blog, page 10

Parenting in the Gaming Age: A Christian Insider’s Guide to Video Games

Video games are more popular than ever. How can Christian parents help our children discern wise use from foolish indulgence?

Read Now

Receive the Holy Spirit

On the evening of Resurrection Sunday, as most of the disciples were locked away in their hideout, trying to come to terms with the implications of an empty tomb and the odd encounters some reported to have had with the risen Lord, Jesus suddenly appeared among them. He reassured them of who he was and spoke peace to their troubled, disoriented hearts (Luke 24:33–43; John 20:19–21).

And then Jesus did something remarkable: “He breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit’” (John 20:22).

When Jesus breathed on his disciples — a resurrection miracle in itself! — and then said, “Receive the Holy Spirit,” he was communicating something of astonishing, fathomless profundity. And his disciples would have understood the implication. For the Holy Spirit proceeds only from God. And the Holy Spirit was proceeding from the Lord Jesus. Thomas, who wasn’t even there to witness this moment, confirmed that he grasped the implication eight days later when he called Jesus, “my Lord and my God!” (John 20:28).

Breath Personified

We don’t know how much the apostles understood of the Holy Spirit’s nature in the moment Jesus breathed on them, but they would soon come to understand that the Spirit was also their Lord and their God. He was not merely a vague emanation of the presence of God; the Breath of God was not like the breath of humans. The Breath was not an it but a he. He was not simply the force or power of God, but God himself. The Holy Spirit was the breath of God personified.

That’s why Jesus spoke of the Holy Spirit in personal terms (notice the pronoun he throughout):

The Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you. (John 14:26)

But when the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, he will bear witness about me. (John 15:26).

I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you. (John 16:7)

When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth, for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you. (John 16:13–14)

Father, Son, Spirit

What Jesus revealed to his apostles when he came was that the one God (Mark 12:29) exists in three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit (Matthew 28:19). The fact that the apostles fully embraced the Spirit’s personhood is clearly seen in how they speak of him in the New Testament. As my colleague, David Mathis, has so helpfully catalogued,

[The Holy Spirit] can be lied to (Acts 5:3), resisted (Acts 7:51), grieved (Ephesians 4:30), blasphemed (Matthew 12:32; Mark 3:29; Luke 12:10). He comforts us (Acts 9:31), guides and directs (Acts 13:2, 4; 15:28; 16:6; 20:23; 21:11), transforms us into the image of Christ (2 Corinthians 3:17–18), and empowers the everyday Christian life (Romans 14:17; 15:13; 1 Corinthians 12:3; Jude 20). He appoints leaders in the church (Acts 20:28), confirms God’s word with miraculous gifts (Hebrews 2:4), sanctifies our imperfect efforts (Romans 15:16), knits us together as a fellowship (2 Corinthians 13:14; Hebrews 6:4), and fills us with praise (Acts 2:4) and with boldness for ministry (Acts 1:8; 4:8, 31; 6:5; 7:55; 9:17; 11:24; 13:9, 52). He communicates the Father’s love to us (Romans 5:5; Ephesians 3:14–19) and infuses the Christian life with joy (Acts 13:52; Romans 14:17; 15:13; 1 Thessalonians 1:6). In him we are sealed, kept, and secured by God till the end (Ephesians 1:13–14).

These attributes, affections, and actions are clearly those of a person — a person who has a mind and who intercedes for us (Romans 8:27); a person to be known and trusted and loved and honored and worshiped; a person to be experienced.

Fellowship of the Holy Spirit

This is why Jesus said, “It is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you” (John 16:7). I’ve offered an explanation elsewhere why the Helper’s coming necessitated Jesus’s absence. But the great advantage to us of the Helper’s coming is that in him we are given the unspeakable gift of experiencing God in all the ways listed above (which are not scripturally exhaustive).

Listen to how Jesus speaks of this reality:

I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. . . . In that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. Whoever has my commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves me. And he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him. . . . If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him. (John 14:18, 20–21, 23)

The Holy Spirit is given to us so that, with him dwelling in us, we are able to fellowship with the Father and the Son. The Spirit’s primary work is to show us the unique glory the Father receives from the Son and the Son from the Father in the plan of salvation (John 17:1–5). He especially points us to the Son. He teaches us the Son’s teachings (John 14:26), he testifies of the Son to us (John 15:26), he discloses to us what the Son wants to tell us (John 16:15), and he comforts us with the comfort the Father and Son want us to have (2 Corinthians 1:3–4).

But that’s not all. The Spirit is also given to us so that, with him dwelling in us, we are able to have fellowship with one another. It is the Spirit who distributes gifts from God “for the common good” of church communities (1 Corinthians 12:7–11). It is the Spirit who inspires us to address each other “in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs” and to “[submit] to one another out of reverence for Christ” (Ephesians 5:18–21). And it is only in the Spirit that we will experience together “unity . . . in the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:3).

This is the great gift of the Holy Spirit: that in him we have fellowship with God and fellowship with one another (1 John 1:3). Paul simply calls it “the fellowship of the Holy Spirit” (2 Corinthians 13:14).

Receive the Holy Spirit

Whenever we speak of the nature of the Trinity, or any of the distinct persons, we are way over our heads. We are attempting to put words to things too wonderful for us. The best Christian minds spent the better part of five centuries defending, clarifying, and codifying for the rest of us the great mystery revealed in Scripture of the divine unity in diversity.

When we’re tempted to cynically question the strangeness of it all, it’s helpful to remember that we find all of reality strange the deeper we delve into it. The collective human genius still does not understand things like gravity, human consciousness, and even what matter is at the subatomic levels — things we experience all the time. It turns out, the most important things in life are not simple. They blow our minds.

We find reality easier to experience than to explain — both physical and spiritual reality. That’s not to say that we shouldn’t attempt to explain how the Holy Spirit functions with the Father and the Son. We must. But we can only go so far. The nature of the Holy Spirit is revealed to us not to dissect, but to receive and embrace and trust and love.

When Jesus, God the Son, breathed on his disciples, he didn’t say, “Comprehend the Holy Spirit.” He said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” For in receiving the Holy Spirit, they — and we — also receive the indwelling of the Father and the Son, or as Paul says, “all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:19).

Receive, don’t resist, the Holy Spirit.

Don’t Face Unbelief Alone

We all very much need other trusted Christians to help us fight for faith and against unbelief — and most of us know this. The problem is, the truth has a tendency to lose its obviousness to us when we most need to trust it. What we very much need, we often very much want to avoid.

Sinful desires, irrational or exaggerated fears, the discouraging and anxiety-producing pall of doubt, and the blanket-darkness of despair all have great power to distort our perceptions of reality. But when we are experiencing them, they appear and feel very real to us. Sin’s promise can look very alluring, the threats of fear and doubt can feel terrifying, and the temptation to despair can appear compellingly inevitable. When we’re in these states, we really need the help of trusted, wise brothers and sisters to discern what’s real and not real.

But when we’re in these states, that’s often when we least want to expose what’s going on inside. We know Scripture teaches us to “exhort one another every day, as long as it is called ‘today,’ that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin” (Hebrews 3:13). But when our need for this is most acute, we often experience the most acute internal resistance to pursuing it or receiving it.

And so, we must take hold of another truth: trusting in the Lord with all our heart and not leaning on our own understanding (Proverbs 3:5) is not something we merely do on our own; it has a communal dimension. We need our trusted brothers and sisters to help us trust in the Lord, even when we’d rather struggle alone.

Resistance from Within

Why can we feel such resistance to pursuing or receiving the help we really need? Three major contributors are typically pride (e.g. my perception of what’s true is more trustworthy than I believe yours will be), shame (e.g. I don’t want you to see my evil or weakness), and fear (e.g. you may reject me, or I may yield some control to you that I want to keep).

Whenever the sin of pride is present, its trajectory is destruction (Proverbs 16:18). But shame and fear are usually complex emotions, fueled partly by various sinful and/or weak tendencies in us and partly by external factors, such as damaging painful past experiences. The net effect is that these responses distort how we view those who might help us, undermining our trust in them and producing instead resistance toward them.

If we listen to the resistance, you can see the confusing, dangerous place this leads us. Sinful desires, misplaced fears, doubt, and despair undermine our trust in what God has spoken to us in his word, and pride, shame, and fear undermine our trust in our brothers and sisters. Unbelief can become a vicious cycle, leaving us isolated and increasingly vulnerable to more and more deception.

Distrust Your Inner Resistance

You can see how crucial it is, when it comes to unbelief and resisting the wisdom of other trusted Christians, that we really take seriously the biblical command to not lean on our own understanding (Proverbs 3:5). The Bible’s warnings about this could not be clearer.

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge;

     fools despise wisdom and instruction. (Proverbs 1:7)

Be not wise in your own eyes;

     fear the Lord, and turn away from evil. (Proverbs 3:7)

The way of a fool is right in his own eyes,

     but a wise man listens to advice. (Proverbs 12:15)

The ear that listens to life-giving reproof

     will dwell among the wise.

Whoever ignores instruction despises himself,

     but he who listens to reproof gains intelligence.

The fear of the Lord is instruction in wisdom,

     and humility comes before honor. (Proverbs 15:31–33)

Whoever isolates himself seeks his own desire;

     he breaks out against all sound judgment. (Proverbs 18:1)

Listen to advice and accept instruction,

     that you may gain wisdom in the future. (Proverbs 19:20)

Whoever trusts in his own mind is a fool,

      but he who walks in wisdom will be delivered. (Proverbs 28:26)

Those who lived in the time these proverbs were written weren’t fundamentally different from us. They were subject to the same temptations to disbelieve God and felt the same kinds of resistance against seeking the sound counsel of others, whether out of pride, shame, or fear. And the proverb writer(s) calls giving in to those impulses foolish.

We are not made to lean on our own understanding. We are made to fear the Lord and listen to the counsel of those who have proven themselves trustworthy. Which means we must cultivate a healthy distrust in our resistance to trust wise brothers and sisters.

Trusting the Lord by Trusting Others

Eighty years ago, in the dangerous, disorienting, distrustful days of the Third Reich’s reign of terror, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote to his fraternal Christian community:

God has willed that we should seek him and find his living word in the witness of a brother, in the mouth of a man. Therefore, a Christian needs another Christian who speaks God’s word to him. He needs him again and again when he becomes uncertain and discouraged, for by himself he cannot help himself without belying the truth. He needs his brother man as a bearer and proclaimer of the divine word of salvation. (Life Together)

This is true. A Christian needs another Christian to speak God’s word to him. We need it more than we know, and we especially need it when we’ve become disoriented regarding what’s real and true and we feel strong internal resistance to sharing it with another Christian. Because trusting in the Lord with all our heart is not something we merely do on our own; we also do it with others, in the community the Lord provides for us.

When We Are Most Vulnerable

There are graces the Lord provides to us only through our brothers and sisters. As Paul wrote, “to each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good” (1 Corinthians 12:7). And “as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them” (Romans 12:4–6).

Therefore, the Lord requires us to humble ourselves and confide our sinful desires, irrational or exaggerated fears, the soul-shaking doubts, and dark despairing thoughts in trusted members of our community of faith, distrusting the resistance we feel to doing this. Because he has ordained that we receive the Spirit’s help through them. For it’s when we’re on our own that we are most likely to be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.

What If Jesus Never Left? Why His Absence Is Our Advantage

Have you ever wondered how Jesus’s absence could be an advantage to us? I’m referring to something Jesus said to his disciples just before he died:

I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you. And when he comes, he will convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment: concerning sin, because they do not believe in me; concerning righteousness, because I go to the Father, and you will see me no longer; concerning judgment, because the ruler of this world is judged. (John 16:7–11)

What “Helper” could possibly be better than Jesus’s perfect, powerful presence and witness with his people on the earth?

I can only imagine that this question was going through his disciples’ minds when Jesus announced that he was leaving them (John 16:5–6). What advantage would it be to them for the Messiah to leave, when his mission was not yet complete, and to send them as his replacements? How could they be more effective than he had been? They could not have felt anywhere close to ready, and their collective behavior over the next couple of terrible days only seemed to confirm this.

But Jesus knew his absence would be a huge advantage, not only for his closest disciples, but “for those who [would] believe in [him] through their word” (John 17:20). He intended to empower their (and our) experience of his presence and global witness beyond anything they had ever imagined.

Not Merely With but In

One advantage of Jesus’s physical absence, the one Jesus explicitly mentioned, is that the Helper would come to the disciples (John 16:7). The Helper is, of course, the Holy Spirit, who Paul calls “the Spirit of Jesus” (Philippians 1:19). This is where we strain our mind’s eyes as we try to peer into the mystery that is the Trinity.

Earlier that evening, Jesus had told his disciples that although he was going away to prepare a place for them (John 14:2–3), he would not leave them as orphans, but he was going to come to them again (John 14:18). But rather than just be with them — which is all they had yet known — Jesus was going to give each disciple (including all of us who would eventually follow) the deeper, more intimate experience of the Father and the Son making their home in them through the Spirit (John 14:17, 23).

This meant that each disciple would experience the advantage of a personal manifestation of and communion with the triune God. But this raises the question, Why must Jesus be physically absent for the Helper to be present (John 16:7)?

Why It Requires Jesus’s Absence

Well, it can’t be that there’s some metaphysical reason that makes it impossible for the Holy Spirit to be present and fill believers when the incarnated Son is present, because that wouldn’t make sense of numerous Scriptures.

The Spirit is clearly active during Jesus’s earthly ministry, even from the earliest days. Not only are we told that Mary conceived Jesus by the Holy Spirit (Luke 1:35), but that Elizabeth (Luke 1:41), Zechariah (Luke 1:67), and Simeon (Luke 2:26–27) were filled with the Holy Spirit with Jesus present. And if it wasn’t the Holy Spirit, then who empowered John the Baptist’s prophesies and who revealed to John who Jesus was (John 1:29–34)? Jesus himself told Nicodemus that no one is born again without the Spirit’s involvement, and he wasn’t referring to his post-ascension future (John 3:6–8), and he told his disciples “it is the Spirit who gives life” (John 6:63).

So then, what’s the reason Jesus had to leave in order for the Spirit, the Helper, to come? D.A. Carson explains,

The thought is eschatological. The many biblical promises that the Spirit will characterize the age of the kingdom of God . . . breed anticipation. But this saving reign of God cannot be fully inaugurated until Jesus has died, risen from the dead, and been exalted to his Father’s right hand, returned to the glory he enjoyed with the Father before the world began. (Gospel According the John, 533–534)

The Spirit could not be poured out on all flesh (Joel 2:28; Acts 2:17) in new-covenant fullness until Jesus was exalted by the Father (Philippians 2:9–11) where “he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet” (1 Corinthians 15:25).

Present Everywhere with Everyone

A second advantage of Jesus’s physical absence is seen in the words “convict the world” (John 16:8). Jesus had a world-reaching mission in mind. His mission was far broader and would take far longer to accomplish than the eleven had yet comprehended.

Jesus intended for billions of people to hear his gospel on multiple continents around the globe over the course of many centuries. His physical presence on earth would be a tremendous draw for his disciples. Who would want to spend their lives far away from him when they could be with him?

So, part of God’s eschatological design is a strategy that would scale to meet the needs of this massive mission. It could only be accomplished if Jesus’s powerful presence was in millions of disciples as they took the gospel to billions of people around the world over millennia.

That’s why it’s to everyone’s advantage, for now, that Jesus is physically absent. Because of this, you as a disciple, no matter where you are, have the unspeakable advantage of the presence of the triune God dwelling in you to commune with you and empower you in your role in his Great Commission. And the global church has the advantage of Jesus’s empowering presence whenever and wherever it gathers for worship (Matthew 18:20) or sends out disciples to preach the gospel (Matthew 28:20).

The Wrath of God Was Satisfied: Wondrous Love in the Awful Cross

The cross. What a terror. Extremely, almost inconceivably terrible. It was designed to be that way — to strike profound terror into the minds of any who could potentially be tortured upon one.

Two thousand years removed from the reality of Roman crucifixion and having become familiar with the cross as an abstract theological term, it can be hard for us to emotionally connect with what it really was: the terrible means of Rome executing its wrath upon its worst offenders.

And Jesus was executed on a cross. He was counted as among the worst offenders. His death was real, and it was really terrible. He was an object of wrath. But not just of Roman and Jewish wrath; in fact, not mainly of Roman and Jewish wrath (John 19:11). Jesus was primarily the object of his Father’s wrath — the most just, righteous, and terrible wrath there is. And he became that object willingly, even when his every human impulse longed for escape (Mark 14:36). It’s the very reason he came.

For This Purpose He Came

Jesus knew what his mission was long before circumstances took their terrible turn toward the cross. He told a Sanhedrin member early on that he had come to be “lifted up” as Moses had lifted up the bronze serpent in the wilderness (John 3:14). He explicitly warned his disciples,

The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. (Luke 9:22)

To a crowd seeking more divine bread from Jesus, he said,

I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh. (John 6:51)

And as time drew near for the horrible events to take place, Jesus grew more determined to face them (Luke 9:51), even as his anguish also intensely increased:

Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? “Father, save me from this hour”? But for this purpose I have come to this hour. (John 12:27)

Jesus had come “for this purpose.” What did he mean? He had come to glorify his Father’s name (John 12:28). He had come “to destroy the works of the devil” (1 John 3:8). He had come to express his Father’s and his own love for sinners like us (Romans 5:8). He had come to draw all people to himself (John 12:32). He had come to take away the sin of the world (John 1:29) by becoming the propitiation for the sins of the world (1 John 2:2).

Divine Wrath Satisfied

The coming of this great Propitiator had been prophesied centuries before:

He was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned — every one — to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53:5–6)

And to ensure we’d understand the substitutionary nature of his coming, and whose wrath he would propitiate, the Spirit said through the prophet,

Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him; he has put him to grief; when his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days; the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand. Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied; by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant, make many to be accounted righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities. (Isaiah 53:10–11)

The old-covenant-era hearers would have understood what this meant, for guilt offerings were sacrificed to God as substitutes in place of those who had sinned against him, so that the sinners themselves would not bear God’s righteous anger. And the old covenant foreshadowed the new covenant (Jeremiah 31:31; Luke 22:20; Hebrews 12:24), where the great Servant, the great Propitiator, would offer himself as the final once-for-all substitutionary sacrifice in the place of sinners (Hebrews 9:26).

That’s why Jesus came, and that’s what the cross was all about. On the cross, the Father made the sinless Son to be sin for our sake that in Jesus we might become the righteousness of God (2 Corinthians 5:21). Jesus, our Propitiator, absorbed the Father’s wrath against our sin and satisfied it in full, so that “whoever believes in him should not perish” but instead enjoy the Father’s favor forever (John 3:16). As the great song says,

Till on that cross as Jesus died,

The wrath of God was satisfied;

For ev’ry sin on him was laid —

Here in the death of Christ I live. (In Christ Alone)

In This Is Love

The cross. What a terror. The cross of Christ. What a terror and glory. The worst brutality meets the mightiest meekness. Unfathomable horror meets unsurpassed beauty. The most righteous condemnation meets the most gracious pardon. The greatest justice meets the greatest mercy. The fiercest wrath meets the most bountiful favor. And such love.

In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. (1 John 4:9–10)

Who would have ever dreamed a Roman cross, one of the worst, most fearsome devices of torture ever devised, would become a symbol of the greatest love ever expressed? For “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” and saved us “from the wrath of God” (Romans 5:8–9).

Waiting for God Alone: How Desperation Teaches Us to Trust

To be brought to a place where God is our only real hope is a merciful experience. But I don’t say that lightly. Because almost always it’s also a desperate experience. Some external circumstance, or internal crisis, forces us into a place where our other comforts and hopes are removed or fail us. In these moments, we keenly feel our weakness and vulnerability, and we usually long and plead with God for escape.

But it is in these seasons that enduring faith is forged. And, usually in retrospect, such experiences — ones where we find that God really is our only rock, that our only real hope is from him — prove to be among the sweetest of our lives. It’s then we call them mercies.

Waiting for God Alone

David was experiencing a season of desperation when he composed Psalm 62.

For God alone my soul waits in silence;

     from him comes my salvation.

He alone is my rock and my salvation,

     my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken. (Psalm 62:1–2)

David had many desperate experiences during his lifetime. He lived in a brutal age and endured tremendous pressures. He lived much of his adult life with the threat of death looming like a shadow over him. He lived for years as a fugitive, fleeing King Saul’s paranoia. He lived for years leading armies against aggressive enemy nations and guarding against espionage. And worst of all, he lived for years with the anguish of watching trusted friends (Psalm 55:13–14), and even a son (2 Samuel 15:10), turn into treacherous enemies who delighted in his tribulations and conspired against his life.

But right from the beginning, David had made the Lord his trust (Psalm 40:4). He refused to lift his hand against Saul, whom the Lord had anointed king (1 Samuel 24:6). He sought the Lord’s guidance when it came to waging war (2 Samuel 5:19). And when conspired against or defamed, he would not personally take revenge (2 Samuel 16:5–14). Everyone knew that he claimed to trust God. Therefore, God’s name was at stake in how he conducted himself. If vengeance belonged to God (Deuteronomy 32:35), then he must trust God to preserve and vindicate him, and not pursue it himself.

And what did God do for David? He allowed many situations that forced David to make the Lord his one trust, his one rock, his one source of salvation. He forced David to wait for him alone.

Tottering Fence

But what was David feeling in the midst of those desperate experiences? Here’s how he described it in this psalm:

How long will all of you attack a man to batter him,

     like a leaning wall, a tottering fence?

They only plan to thrust him down from his high position.

     They take pleasure in falsehood.

They bless with their mouths,

     but inwardly they curse. (Psalm 62:3–4)

David didn’t seem to be feeling like his faith was growing stronger. He was feeling weak and vulnerable and fragile. He felt like an old stone wall, bowing out and ready to crumble. He felt like a rickety old fence that could easily topple over.

This is how we often feel when we are learning to make God our only trust. Tests of our faith often feel in the moment like threats to our faith. Whatever form of adversity we’re experiencing, it feels overwhelming. We too feel weak, vulnerable, and fragile, like we’re going to topple over and crumble. We might feel tempted to panic.

So, what do we do?

My Hope Is from Him

David shows us by putting on a clinic in Psalm 62. He preaches to his troubled, weak, vulnerable, fragile soul (and ours):

For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,

     for my hope is from him.

He only is my rock and my salvation,

     my fortress; I shall not be shaken.

On God rests my salvation and my glory;

     my mighty rock, my refuge is God. (Psalm 62:5–7)

This is David’s way of saying what the sons of Korah said in Psalms 42 and 43:

Why are you cast down, O my soul,

     and why are you in turmoil within me?

Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,

     my salvation and my God. (Psalm 42:11)

David is telling his soul to remember the source of his hope: God. More precisely, what God had promised him. It’s true that David’s experience was unique in that God had made specific promises to him, such as becoming Israel’s king (1 Samuel 16:13) and receiving a throne that would “be established forever” through his progeny (2 Samuel 7:12–17).

But for all the saints, hope in God is grounded on the promises of God. The promises of God, his word to us, is the fortress we flee to when we are afraid. That’s why David says it this way elsewhere: “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you” (Psalm 56:3).

My Fortress

David took refuge not only in the promises God made specifically to him. He took refuge in the entire revealed word of God that had been provided up to that point. That’s why in Psalm 19, David spoke of every word of God’s special revelation as having power to revive the soul, rejoice the heart, enlighten the eyes, and reward those who keep them (Psalm 19:7–11).

New-covenant believers find the same to be true. Yes, sometimes the Spirit will illumine a particular promise for us during a difficult season to help us endure. But the greater truth is that “all the promises of God find their Yes in” Jesus (2 Corinthians 1:20). All God’s promises are places of refuge, fortresses where we may flee when we feel weak, vulnerable, and fragile, such as:

I will never leave you nor forsake you. (Hebrews 13:5)

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. (John 14:27)

If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. (John 15:7)

My God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:19)

Do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? . . . But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. (Matthew 6:25, 33)

We know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)

After you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. (1 Peter 5:10)

Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age. (Matthew 28:20)

And hundreds more. In the desperate season, when something or someone is threatening our hope, and we feel on the verge of collapse, we must turn from looking at the threat and instead look to the source of our hope, and say with David, “On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God” (Psalm 62:7).

Trust in Him at All Times

The truth is that these seasons of desperation really teach us what trust means, and they train us to actually trust in God. They force David’s words to be more than just words to us:

Trust in him at all times, O people;

     pour out your heart before him;

     God is a refuge for us. (Psalm 62:8)

Desperation is not only one of the most effective instructors in trusting God; it is also one of the most effective instructors in the school of prayer. Few things move you to pour out your heart to God in earnest prayer than when everything seems on the line, and you wonder if you’re going to make it. Most people don’t run into a fortress unless they’re faced with real danger coming their way.

This is why I said that to be brought to a place where God is our only real hope is a merciful experience. But I also said that I don’t say it lightly, because I know such experiences. They have been the hardest of my life. Part of me doesn’t wish them on anyone. But the wiser part of me wishes them for everyone.

Why? Because there is nothing in the world that compares with the sweet comfort our soul experiences when we really know that our greatest hope comes from God and that he only is our mighty rock and our refuge, and that he can be trusted at all times. Whatever teaches us this turns out to be a great mercy.

Refresh Your Soul with Humility

If you’ve been a Christian for a while, you may have memorized the following verses without trying, simply because you’ve heard them quoted so often:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,

     and do not lean on your own understanding.

In all your ways acknowledge him,

     and he will make straight your paths. (Proverbs 3:5–6)

This promise is so beloved because it is so freeing. We are finite and there is so much that exceeds our understanding, it can be overwhelming. But in this command to trust the omniscient one, we find a place of refuge that allows us to maintain our sanity. We find peace in the promise that if we are humble enough to obey this compassionate command, God will direct our course.

I wonder why, then, given how less I’ve heard them quoted over the years, we don’t seem to be as familiar with the next two verses:

Be not wise in your own eyes;

     fear the Lord, and turn away from evil.

It will be healing to your flesh

     and refreshment to your bones. (Proverbs 3:7–8)

I would think that the promise of God-given refreshment would be nearly as precious to us as God-given guidance.

Similar but Not the Same

It’s clear that the writer meant for his son (Proverbs 3:1) — and the rest of us — to read these eight lines (four verses) together. I doubt he intended them to be separated, because they form the kind of parallelism so common in Hebraic poetry and wisdom literature:

The command, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart”, corresponds with “Be not wise in your own eyes”;

“Do not lean on your own understanding” corresponds with “fear the Lord, and turn away from evil”;

And the promise in verse 6 (“he will make straight your paths”) corresponds to the promise in verse 8 (“It will be . . . refreshment to your bones”).

The genius of this kind of parallelism is that it allows the writer to make related statements that are not redundant. There’s a clear connection between what verses 5–6 say and what verses 7–8 say, but they don’t say identical things. Trusting in God with our whole heart is not the same thing as not being wise in our own eyes (though we can’t have the former without the latter).

What God Gives the Humble

What the proverb is doing is turning the diamond of a profound truth in the light of God’s wisdom so that we see a different refraction of that light. What is this profound truth? We learn more explicitly further down in the chapter: “toward the scorners [God] is scornful, but to the humble he gives favor” (Proverbs 3:34).

Proverbs 3:34 is one of the most quoted verses in the whole Bible. If you don’t recognize it, that’s probably because you are simply more familiar with the Greek translation of the verse (from the Septuagint), which both the apostles James and Peter famously quote: “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6; 1 Peter 5:5).

That is the truth-diamond the writer holds up in this chapter: God gives grace, his favor, to the humble. When he turns it one way, the light of God’s wisdom refracts verses 5–6 (“Trust in the Lord with all your heart . . . and he will make straight your paths”). When he turns it another way, it refracts verses 7–8 (“Be not wise in your own eyes . . . [it will be] refreshment to your bones”). Guidance in life and soul-restoration are both graces God gives to the humble.

But since we are so familiar with verses 5–6, let’s linger over the refraction of God’s wisdom we see in verses 7–8 and the grace promised us if we heed it.

You Aren’t as Wise as You Assume

First, look at the command: “Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord, and turn away from evil” (Proverbs 3:7).

To be told, “be not wise in your own eyes,” has a different effect on us than “trust in the Lord with all your heart.” It immediately heightens our awareness of and confronts the “pride of life” (1 John 2:16), the pride we all have as part of our sinful natures. This is the pride that assumes we can adequately understand the knowledge of good and evil, and judge rightly between the two. It is a perilous assumption.

The proverbial author knows how seductively deceptive this pride is and warns us against its folly throughout the chapter. What’s so seductively deceptive is how easily choosing evil can appear wise to us because of the benefits it seems to provide those who do. When we read his examples of evil behavior (Proverbs 3:28–34), we might be tempted to think we’re above such behavior. But the fact is, we notoriously underestimate how confusing things can appear in the pressure of real-life situations, when we are afraid or angry or suffering or threatened.

This command is a great mercy for the complex and difficult situations and decisions we all face. There are times when we need the soul-jolting, in-our-face, direct warning not to trust our own wisdom and to turn away from evil more than to be merely told to trust in God. We need to be reminded how untrustworthy our own wisdom is.

Humility’s Restoring Power

Lastly, look at the powerful promise to those who aren’t wise in their own eyes, but fear God and turn away from evil:

It will be healing to your flesh

     and refreshment to your bones. (Proverbs 3:8)

Note the words the writer chooses here: “healing” and “refreshment.” These are restorative terms. Why does he use them?

Because this experienced father knows the violence done to the soul by the doing of evil and the temptation to evil. He knows that “a tranquil heart gives life to the flesh, but envy makes the bones rot” (Proverbs 14:30). He knows what David meant when he wrote, “When I kept silent [about my sin], my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long” (Psalm 32:3). He knows how evil violates the conscience and creates terrible conflict with God and man. And he wants his son and all of his readers to experience peace (Proverbs 3:2), or to return to peace if he’s strayed into evil.

And the path to deep, refreshing peace from God is living humbly before God.

Humble Yourselves

The apostle Peter was thinking of the truth-diamond in Proverbs 3 when he wrote,

Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. (1 Peter 5:5–7)

God gives grace to the humble. To those who humbly trust him with all their heart, he gives the grace of guidance. To those who humbly refuse to be wise in their own eyes, he gives the grace of refreshing peace. To those who humble themselves under his hand, he will give the grace of exaltation. And to those who humbly cast their cares on him, he gives the grace of carrying their cares.

It is good for us to be as familiar with verses 7–8 of Proverbs 3 as we are with verses 5–6. There are times we must remember to trust in the Lord with all our heart, and there are other times we must remember to not be wise in our own eyes. They are similar, related, complementary, yet different refractions of God’s wisdom. And both remind us that cultivating humility before God is among the healthiest things we can do for our souls.

The Strangest Thing Jesus Said

“Why did you not bring him?” The Pharisees were exasperated that the officers had not arrested and delivered Jesus yet. How did the officers explain their failure? “No one ever spoke like this man!” (John 7:46).

By the time we get to John chapter seven, Jesus had made himself a serious religious and political issue in Palestine. Everywhere he went, he created controversy. Some people said he was demonized with paranoia (John 7:20). Some seriously wondered if he might be the Prophet Moses foretold (John 7:40; Deuteronomy 18:15–18), or even the Christ (John 7:31, 41). Others said the Christ hypothesis couldn’t be true, since obviously the Christ would come from Bethlehem, and Jesus was from Galilee (John 7:42) — and of course no prophet ever came from there (John 7:52).

One thing that helped fuel the rumors among the crowds was the fact that, in spite of all Jesus was saying, the Jewish leaders had not arrested him yet. Was this a signal that even they thought Jesus might be the Christ (John 7:26)?

When the chief priests and Pharisees caught wind of this, they decided to snuff out that rumor by arresting him, so they sent officers to do just that (John 7:32). The officers, however, returned empty-handed. When the Jewish leaders asked them why, the officers responded, “No one ever spoke like this man.”

The Enigma of History

The echo of that sentence has reverberated down through history. No one ever spoke like this man. The proof of its veracity is in the pudding of the historical result: the words of Jesus have shaped the course of world history more than any other human voice.

Observed as a historical phenomenon, it is the strangest thing. How did Jesus get to be the most famous man in history? Two thousand years later, no one’s words have been read more, studied more, quoted more, debated more, pondered more, written and lectured about more, translated into more languages, fueled more literacy efforts around the world, and shaped more diverse cultures than the words of Jesus of Nazareth.

Over the centuries, many nonreligious theories have been proffered for the tenacious, massive, increasingly global influence of this wandering, first-century, Jewish rabbi with peasant roots and ordinary disciples. None do him justice. Political, institutional, economic, social, cultural, psychological explanations all prove reductionistic and overly simplistic. They don’t explain why people find Jesus so compelling.

When you look at all he said and taught, what did Jesus say that has been so historically profound? He said he was God.

He Claimed to Be God

Many have tried to argue that he didn’t claim this. The attempts are futile. The New Testament, the most reliable record we have of Jesus’s words, is unequivocal on this assertion. Any honest reading is unmistakable. And Jesus’s claim to divinity is the only reason he has been and remains such an incredible force in world history. Listen to just a few of his unparalleled statements.

The woman at the well said to Jesus, “I know that Messiah is coming (he who is called Christ). When he comes, he will tell us all things.” Jesus responded, “I who speak to you am he” (John 4:25–26). Jesus knew he was the prophesied Jewish Messiah.

When Jesus asked his disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter responded, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” And what did Jesus say to that? “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 16:15–17). Jesus not only affirmed his Messiahship, but he affirmed the title “Son of God,” and Peter’s use of this term is clearly and uniquely divine.

“I Am”

If that’s not convincing, this ought to be. When being interrogated by the High Priest during the infamous midnight trial, when his answer would either lead toward or away from crucifixion, he was asked directly “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?” Jesus responded, “I am, and you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power, and coming with the clouds of heaven” (Mark 14:61–62). Everyone in that room knew exactly what Jesus was referring to: the divine Son of Man prophesied in Daniel 7:13–14, which is why they called it blasphemy.

And the apostle John quotes a string of audacious “I am” statements Jesus made:

“I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger.” (John 6:35)
“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (John 8:12)
“You are from below; I am from above. You are of this world; I am not of this world. I told you that you would die in your sins, for unless you believe that I am he you will die in your sins.” (John 8:23–24)
“I am the door of the sheep. . . . If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture.” (John 10:7, 9)
“You call me Teacher and Lord, and you are right, for so I am.” (John 13:13)
“I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6)

Has anyone ever spoken like this man?

The Greatest Claim Ever Made

But perhaps the most powerful “I am” statement Jesus ever made, the one that captures the single greatest reason he has influenced the world like no other man, is this one:

I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this? (John 11:25–26)

Who ever said such a thing? Why does anyone listen to such preposterous words? It’s not wish-fulfillment. Mass movements of people don’t follow a crazy man. There is only one reason such words ever gained historical traction: Jesus’s tomb was empty that first Easter Sunday morning. Too many people personally witnessed him alive (1 Corinthians 15:6), too many of them paid with their lives for claiming to have witnessed him alive, and too many people throughout history have encountered Jesus as a real, living presence and power, and found eternal life in his words (John 6:68).

Jesus claimed to be God. He prophesied that he would be killed and rise from the dead three days later. He was killed and his tomb was empty three days later. And hundreds of witnesses who had nothing material to gain (and everything to lose) by claiming his resurrection, claimed it was so.

Who Do You Say That He Is?

The brief snapshot we see in John 7 captures the controversial effect Jesus of Nazareth had on those who came in direct or indirect contact with him. And this is still the controversial effect he has on those who come in contact with him today. Some still think him demonic, some think him delusional, some think him distorted by his biographers and early followers, and some think him divine.

But one stubborn thing is, Jesus doesn’t go away. We keep talking about him, much to the ire of certain powers-that-be. Over and over people keep trying to bury Jesus, and he keeps refusing to stay dead. He is still speaking and his words keep making people alive.

Just a handful of disciples heard him say, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away” (Matthew 24:35). How audacious did such a statement sound the day it was spoken? How much more ridiculous did they seem as he hung on a cross just days later? Yet now, two thousand years later, we read these words in the light of the strange, unexpected, unrivaled impact Jesus has made on history. It must make each and every one of us wonder, forcing us to answer his question for ourselves: “Who do you say that I am?” (Matthew 16:15).

Say what you like about Jesus, one thing is true: no one ever spoke like this man.

My Soul Faints for You: Pursuing Joy in Every Prayer

“God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him.” If that is true, then prayer, like everything else we do (1 Corinthians 10:31), is first and foremost a pursuit of our satisfaction in God. Unlike everything else we do, though, prayer is an especially vital and precious means God has given us to grow our joy in him.

Why do I say this? Because in prayer, we go straight to God — the one who is not only the source of “every good gift and every perfect gift” (James 1:17) but is himself our “exceeding joy” (Psalm 43:4). We see this beautifully expressed in one of David’s prayers:

You make known to me the path of life;

     in your presence there is fullness of joy;

     at your right hand are pleasures forevermore. (Psalm 16:11)

When we pray, we are pursuing a fuller joy, a deeper pleasure, a more abundant life in God. We want to glorify him all the more in all we do, so we ask him to satisfy us all the more with himself. We pray to see more of his glory, to experience more of his strength and help, to feel more joy in God.

Root and Goal of Every Prayer

So, prayer is an especially vital and precious means God has provided us to pursue our joy in him. That does not mean our experience of prayer, if done right, will always leave us feeling more satisfied with God, or that it will produce satisfying results relatively quickly. That is not what the Bible teaches us, and Psalm 16 isn’t the only kind of prayer we find in the Bible.

The prayers of Scripture are amazingly diverse. They cover the spectrum of human experience. Along with sweet expressions of adoration, strong declarations of faith, and songs of exultant joy, there are prayers of perplexity over God’s ways, groaning in suffering, confession of sin, and deep laments. But could even these more difficult prayers — prayers that help us voice our anguish and confusion in painful seasons — also be means of pursuing joy in God?

I believe they are. At root in both sweet, savoring prayers and in the troubled prayers of the afflicted is a pursuit of God as the source of the petitioners’ satisfaction. We tend to see this more explicitly in the former, and sometimes only implicitly in the latter, but God, our exceeding joy, is the goal that unifies them. Look with me at several examples from the Bible’s inspired prayer book, the Psalms.

My Soul Faints for You

When we think of a prayerful pursuit of God-satisfaction, most of us likely think of prayers, like Psalm 63, that sweetly savor God:

Because your steadfast love is better than life,

     my lips will praise you.

So I will bless you as long as I live;

     in your name I will lift up my hands.

My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food,

     and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips. (Psalm 63:3–5)

Or we think of prayers that communicate a deep longing for God:

My soul longs, yes, faints

     for the courts of the Lord;

my heart and flesh sing for joy

     to the living God. (Psalm 84:2)

Or we think of prayers that rejoice in God’s deliverance:

I waited patiently for the Lord;

     he inclined to me and heard my cry.

He drew me up from the pit of destruction,

     out of the miry bog,

and set my feet upon a rock,

     making my steps secure. . . .

May all who seek you

     rejoice and be glad in you;

may those who love your salvation

     say continually, “Great is the Lord!” (Psalm 40:1–2, 16)

In these prayers (and many more like them), we hear the pray-ers explicitly delighting themselves in the Lord (Psalm 37:4). Their joy in him is palpable, and they long for more.

Revive Our Joy in You

But when biblical prayers express repentance, anguish, or sorrow, they are still pursuing joy in God. When Israel was under the discipline of the Lord due to sin, for instance, the Sons of Korah prayed,

Will you not revive us again,

     that your people may rejoice in you?

Show us your steadfast love, O Lord,

     and grant us your salvation. (Psalm 85:6–7)

What do they really want? For the people of Israel, who are experiencing God’s indignation (Psalm 85:4), to once again experience joy in God.

When David, as an individual, had grievously sinned against God, he poured out this prayer of deep repentance:

Have mercy on me, O God,

     according to your steadfast love;

according to your abundant mercy

     blot out my transgressions.

Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,

     and cleanse me from my sin. . . .

Restore to me the joy of your salvation,

     and uphold me with a willing spirit. (Psalm 51:1–2, 12)

David, in his repentant grief and regret, is still seeking satisfaction in God. He’s not only asking for forgiveness and cleansing, but amazingly dares, despite what he has done, to ask God to restore his joy.

Why Have You Forsaken Me?

But what about the desperate prayer of someone in severe affliction?

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

     Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?

O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer,

     and by night, but I find no rest. (Psalm 22:1–2)

This prayer was uttered first by David, and then later by the crucified Jesus (Matthew 27:46). We’ve seen how David sought God as his supreme satisfaction, his “exceeding joy,” and the writer of Hebrews tells us Jesus endured the cross “for the joy that was set before him” (Hebrews 12:2). Are there any clues, though, that this prayer itself really is a pursuit of joy in God? We read further down:

The afflicted shall eat and be satisfied;

     those who seek him shall praise the Lord!

     May your hearts live forever! (Psalm 22:26)

Though the afflicted one has not yet received his answer, he’s tasting joy in the future hope that he and others who seek God will not only be rescued, but they will be satisfied in the God they seek.

Even in Our Darkness

But what about Psalm 88, perhaps the most desolate prayer in Scripture? It is a bewildered cry of one in the agony of deep depression, and it almost seems devoid of hope. But it’s not completely devoid of hope. We can hear a flicker in the prayer’s opening words:

O Lord, God of my salvation,

     I cry out day and night before you.

Let my prayer come before you;

     incline your ear to my cry! (Psalm 88:1–2)

This psalm likely gives voice to the experience of some reading this. I know something of this kind of desolation. Can we say such an anguished prayer is even remotely a pursuit of joy in God? I believe we can, even if it is remote — even if it is only implicit.

The very fact that the petitioner, though in great misery, turns to God in prayer, and looks to God as the source of his salvation, implies that he sees God as the source of the joy he so desperately longs for — not unlike David pleading with God to restore the joy of his salvation. I think that’s why God included this prayer in the Bible: we glorify him when we seek him as our satisfaction, even in our deepest darkness.

If you are in a Psalm 88 season, John Piper’s booklet When the Darkness Will Not Lift: Doing What We Can While We Wait for God — and Joy is a wonderful resource, full of wise, seasoned, gentle, biblical counsel.

At All Times

When we speak of prayer as a primary means God has provided us to pursue our satisfaction — our joy — in him, we do not at all mean to be reductionistic. The prayers of the Bible are very diverse and pursue joy in a wide variety of ways.

In their diversity, the prayers in Scripture show us how to pray “at all times” (Ephesians 6:18). God has provided these for us so that whether we are in seasons of praise or lament, adoration or confession, we might know how to seek deeper satisfaction in him. It is God who has the power, the authority, the wisdom, the grace, the goodness, the righteousness, the mercy, the wealth, and anything else that is needed, and it is God alone who is the source of the joy the pray-ers ultimately seek. Each pray-er looks to God as the source of fulfillment and the spring of satisfaction.

Prayer, at heart, is a pursuit of our exceeding joy: God (Psalm 43:4). And that’s by design. Because “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him.”

When Christ Will Come Again: Why Christmas Keeps Us Waiting

This year marks the three hundredth anniversary of one of the most beloved Christmas hymns in the English language: “Joy to the World.” Interestingly, though, its author, Isaac Watts (1674–1748), likely wasn’t thinking of Christmas when he penned it.

The hymn first appeared in 1719, when Watts published a collection of hymns, to which he gave the catchy title The Psalms of David: Imitated in the language of the New Testament, and applied to the Christian state and worship. His goal was to breathe new life into the English congregational psalm-singing of his day and help Christians view the psalms through New Testament lenses.

The hymn we know as “Joy to the World,” Watts titled “The Messiah’s Coming and His Kingdom,” and he based it off of Psalm 98. The “coming” Watts primarily had in mind when he composed the hymn was Christ’s second coming. He was thinking culmination, not incarnation.

So why did this hymn become a Christmas carol? Likely it’s because in 1839 the American hymn writer Lowell Mason pieced together the tune we’re all now familiar with from two different places in the Advent section of Handel’s Messiah. But whatever the reason, it’s a sweet providence. The hymn lyrics celebrate truths about Christ that, for the Christian, are past, present, and future. It reminds us all at Christmas that Advent is only the beginning, that it points forward to the “blessed hope” (Titus 2:13).

The Lord Is Come

It is altogether right for us to sing at Christmas, “Joy to the world, the Lord is [meaning has] come!” Indeed, he has come. And why did he come the first time? To make it possible for “his blessings [to] flow far as the curse is found.” Jesus was born to accomplish a work that would purchase the full redemption of his people and his world.

That’s why all the references to the birth of Jesus in the New Testament have a significant future orientation: Christmas is about what’s coming.

When the angel visits Mary, he tells her the child she will conceive miraculously “will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High” and that “God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1:32–33).

When the angel visits Joseph in a dream, he tells him the child Mary is carrying “will save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21).

When the angel announces Jesus’s birth to the shepherds, he says, “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11) — a child who will bring them salvation.

When Simeon speaks to Mary in the temple, he says, “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed” (Luke 2:34–35).

Paul wrote to the Philippians that Jesus was “born in the likeness of men” so that he would suffer “death on a cross,” and then be “highly exalted,” and proclaimed as “Lord” by everyone (Philippians 2:7–11).

Yes, we will sing with joy that “the Lord is come . . . to make his blessings flow” at his second coming, when he finally comes to end creation’s cursed groaning (Romans 8:20, 22). But without the cross of his first coming, there could be no reverse of the curse, and his blessings could not flow. For it is in the cross that

the Lord has made known his salvation;

     he has revealed his righteousness in the sight of the nations.

He has remembered his steadfast love and faithfulness

     to the house of Israel.

All the ends of the earth have seen

     the salvation of our God. (Psalm 98:2–3)

When we sing “the Lord is come” at Christmas, we celebrate what is past because of what it means for our future.

The Savior Reigns

But can we sing at Christmas, “Joy to the earth, the Savior reigns”? We know he will reign when he returns, and every knee bends, and every tongue confesses him as Lord (Philippians 2:10–11). But in what way does Jesus reign now, when the world we live in is so rife with wickedness, violence, calamities, and tragedies — when “the whole world lies in the power of the evil one” (1 John 5:19)?

Scripture is unambiguous: the Lord reigns now over the world and all the peoples (Psalm 96:10) and his “throne . . . is forever and ever” (Psalm 45:6). Jeremiah declared this has been true throughout “all generations,” even as evil seemed to run unrestrained all around him (Lamentations 5:19). Given our frailty and very limited perspectives, life in this age often doesn’t make sense, and we groan. Over all this, the Lord reigns.

But there is a massive difference between Jesus’s reign now and his reign at his second coming. In describing the Lord’s reign now, Paul says Jesus “must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet” (1 Corinthians 15:25). He draws this directly from Psalm 110:

The Lord says to my Lord:

     “Sit at my right hand,

until I make your enemies your footstool.”

The Lord sends forth from Zion

     your mighty scepter.

     Rule in the midst of your enemies! (Psalm 110:1–2)

Yes, we will sing with joy that “the Savior reigns” at his second coming, when all “in heaven and on earth and under the earth” will acknowledge his rule (Philippians 2:10) and the redeemed and renewed creation will “repeat the sounding joy.” But in this fallen, corrupted age, the Savior is calling out of “every tribe and language and people and nation” all those he has ransomed by his own blood (Revelation 5:9). He is establishing and expanding the kingdom of heaven in the midst of his enemies (Luke 17:21), just as David prophesied in Psalm 110. Which means during both eras of his reign, we can

sing to the Lord a new song,

     for he has done marvelous things!

His right hand and his holy arm

     have worked salvation for him. (Psalm 98:1)

When we sing “the Savior reigns” at Christmas, we celebrate what is true now, even in tears, in the hope of what will be so joyfully true in the future.

Truth and Grace

Because “the Lord is come,” because “the Savior reigns,” we can sing at Christmas, “He rules the world with truth and grace.” This is both true now and will be true in the future culmination.

In Watts’s lyric, we can hear the apostle John’s words, “grace and truth came through Jesus Christ” (John 1:17). John wasn’t referring to Jesus’s second coming, but his first. Jesus was born into the world as “the truth” (John 14:6) and “to bear witness to the truth” (John 18:37). His first coming was not to bring judgment, but the grace of forgiveness and the gift of salvation: “for I did not come to judge the world but to save the world” (John 12:47).

But at Jesus’s second coming, he will

[come] to judge the earth.

He will judge the world with righteousness,

     and the peoples with equity. (Psalm 98:9)

Jesus said this would be the case: “the Father . . . has given all judgment to the Son” (John 5:22). Because of the cross of his first coming, the judgment Jesus will bring at his second coming will be righteous and gracious. He can be both “just and the justifier of the one who has faith in [him]” (Romans 3:26).

When we sing that Jesus “makes the nations prove the glories of his righteousness” at Christmas, we mean the glories of his “truth and grace,” his justice and mercy, which will always be the nature of his rule, both now and in the age to come.

Wonders of His Love

Isaac Watts may have written “Joy to the World” with the second coming in mind, but it is a glorious hymn to sing at Christmas. For the only way we can sing it with joy and hope is because of everything the first coming means to us.

Jesus came first “to bear the sins of many”; he will come again “to save those who are eagerly waiting for him” (Hebrews 9:28). These are “the wonders of his love.” God the Father so loved us that he sent his only Son, and the Son so loved us that he willingly laid down his life for us, that we would not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16; 15:13).

Advent is only the beginning. It is the beginning of the end — the end of all we so long to see end and all we long to see begin. And Jesus shares these great longings (Psalm 110:1; John 17:24). Christmas brings joy to the world because of what it promises for the world; it points us forward to the “blessed hope,” the fulfillment of our joy (Titus 2:13).

“Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!” (Revelation 22:20).