Michael Kelley's Blog, page 3

When Joy and Sorrow Erupt in the Same Refrain

When the builders had laid the foundation of the LORD’s temple, the priests, dressed in their robes and holding trumpets, and the Levites descended from Asaph, holding cymbals, took their positions to praise the LORD, as King David of Israel had instructed. They sang with praise and thanksgiving to the LORD: “For He is good; His faithful love to Israel endures forever.” Then all the people gave a great shout of praise to the LORD because the foundation of the LORD’s house had been laid.

But many of the older priests, Levites, and family leaders, who had seen the first temple, wept loudly when they saw the foundation of this house, but many others shouted joyfully. The people could not distinguish the sound of the joyful shouting from that of the weeping, because the people were weeping so loudly. And the sound was heard far away (Ezra 3:10-13).

It’s hard for me to understand the significance of the temple to these people of God; I don’t have a comparison for it. But when the Babylonians sacked Jerusalem, when God’s people were deported, and when the temple was destroyed, along with it were crushed the hope of those people. For centuries, the enduring symbol of God’s favor and presence had been that temple. Here, when everything else failed, and when sin had run rampant, was somewhere the people could look; something tangible that demonstrated that God was still with us. His house is still here. His presence still resides.

And then it was destroyed.

But even in that destruction and deportation, the Lord promised hope and future. He promised that He would not only bring the people back to the land He promised, but that He was instituting a new covenant, written on hearts instead of stone. And some of those same people who watched the first temple burn actually got to see the new temple be erected.

So we have this scene. It’s been 70-somewhat years of exile. Years of struggle to maintain their national and spiritual identity in the midst of a pagan land. Decades of foreign oppression. But God was, and is, faithful to His word, and he has brought the people back. And here we find this scene.

Can you imagine it? After all those years? And yet there’s something not quite right about it, at least for some of the people in attendance. The new temple pales in comparison to the old one, and some of those in the crowd are just old enough to notice. What results is the mingling of celebration and mourning, and joy and sorrow erupt in the same refrain.

Now that’s something I can identify with. So can you, actually. Because that mingling is one of the daily experiences of the Christian.

As the redeemed people of God, we live the reality of Psalm 70:2: “let those who love Your salvation continually say, ‘God is great!'” The refrain of salvation and joy is continually on the lips of our hearts. And yet at the same time we live the reality of Psalm 90:13: “LORD, how long? Turn and have compassion on your servants.”

We live in the dual realities of what God has done and what He’s going to do; of the joy of salvation and the longing for redemption; of what is and what will be. And though we might not be aware of both of these realities in our daily experience, they’re there. Living together in our hearts, as the people of the already but not yet. Every once in a while, though, joy and sorrow erupt in the same refrain, just as they did in the days of Ezra. Take, for example, the Christian funeral.

This is when we sing “Victory in Jesus” through our tears. This is when we remember with sadness and look forward with joy. This is when we the celebration of the birthday changes into the somber reality of a memorial. Death and life, all together. The brokenness of the world and the coming redemption of God. As Christians, this is our reality. And it’s not bad when other people, even those outside the faith, see it in us.

The people could not distinguish the sound of the joyful shouting from that of the weeping, because the people were weeping so loudly. And the sound was heard far away…

May our sound of joy and sorrow, of rejoicing at the salvation of our God and mourning over the brokenness of the world, be heard far, far away too.

Jesus: The One Who Commands, and the One Who Understands

Chances are if you’ve been in the working world for very long, you’ve run across a boss or supervisor that you don’t think of with fondness. There might be all kinds of reasons for this – perhaps that authority had an abrasive personality. Maybe she was arrogant about her intelligence or accomplishments. Perhaps he was a micromanager who would periodically interject himself into projects or assignments only to criticize.

Or perhaps your negative experience with this particular boss was because he or she was simply aloof. This person wore their authority with great seriousness in the sense that they were never shy about issuing orders, setting deadlines, and demanding status reports. They wanted to see the results, and gave assignments accordingly, but never involved themselves with the day to day operations of what it actually took to achieve those results.

Part of that is the nature of authority. A person in authority has the right (and even the responsibility) to set direction and tell you what to do. They can set expectations for your performance. They can issue orders and demand they be followed. They can do this because, whether right or not, they have the authority to do so. And there is no greater authority than Jesus.

Jesus can set whatever expectations He wants. He is the rightful King of the universe, the very Word of God, and the Creator of all things. Whether we recognize His authority or not really makes no difference; His authority over the world, and we who inhabit it, is an objective truth. So when Jesus comes to His followers and makes demands of an extreme nature, He has every right to do so:

“Therefore, everyone who will acknowledge me before others, I will also acknowledge him before my Father in heaven. But whoever denies me before others, I will also deny him before my Father in heaven. Don’t assume that I came to bring peace on the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I came to turn

a man against his father,
a daughter against her mother,
a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law;
and a man’s enemies will be
the members of his household.

The one who loves a father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; the one who loves a son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And whoever doesn’t take up his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Anyone who finds his life will lose it, and anyone who loses his life because of me will find it” (Matt. 10:32-39).

Jesus has the authority to tell us to leave everything behind and follow Him. He has the authority to demand that we sell everything and come with Him. He has the authority to tell us not to seek revenge but instead to forgive and pray for our enemies. He has the ultimate right to command.

But Jesus is not a naive leader; He is not an out of touch boss; He is not an aloof dignitary. Gloriously, Jesus is the one who has every right to issue any order He desires, and yet He is also the One who grasps better than we do the implications of any of those orders.

Jesus is the One who commands, but He’s also the One who understands.

This same One who calls us to leave all behind, to forsake the priorities of the world, to seek not earthly treasure, to forsake power and prestige, to give up our lives for the sake of the kingdom… this is the same One who understands all the temporal difficulty and pain that commitment might bring. What’s more, He’s the One who invites us not to suffer with our doubt, fear, or apprehension in silence, but instead to bring it to Him:

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has been tempted in every way as we are, yet without sin. Therefore, let us approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in time of need” (Heb. 4:15-16).

He is more than our authority; Jesus is our friend. He is more than the One who commands; He’s the One who understands.

Today, friend Jesus is calling you to all those things. He is commanding a life of faithfulness, of loyalty, and yes, in many cases, sacrifice. But He is not unaware of what He’s asking. He understands.

Rejoice with Those Who Rejoice… For Your Own Sake

“Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15).

This command is part of a long list of exhortations from Paul found in Romans 12. Contextually, all these statements are built around the theme of unity in the body of Christ, that we must all exercise our own spiritual gifts for the sake of the larger church. As the unified people of God, we must not only engage in these giftings, but also live out the corporate life of faith we have in a host of other ways. We must who hospitality; rejoice in hope; outdo one another in showing honor; and we must rejoice with those rejoice and weep with those who weep.

Very practical stuff here. Practical, but difficult, and not just because your personality might not be emotional. It’s difficult to truly rejoice with those who rejoice, and to truly weep with those who weep. A big part of the reason it’s so hard is because way in the back of our hearts, behind all the congratulatory smiles and the consolatory tears there lurks that little thought we’re too ashamed to own up to.

It’s the thought that…

“I know you’re thrilled you got that promotion but I should be more recognized for my own work.”“I know your kids look perfect but I bet you’ve got a pile of dirty laundry in the back room.”“I know you think you’ve got problems but you should see what I’m dealing with.”

We slap high fives or buy the Hallmark card, but we aren’t really rejoicing or weeping, and that’s because somewhere down deep inside of us we compare the success or failure, the joy or pain, of a given person at a given time with our own. And ours is more. Or at least it should be.

We are, in other words, enslaved to ourselves, and that enslavement constrains us. We are shackled by our own comparisons and a result, we are incapable of the true, gut-level, authentic emotion that comes with truly and purely being happy for someone, or truly and purely weeping with another. What can break these chains? What can unshackle us from ourselves for the sake of others?

It is only the gospel.

The gospel frees us from this compulsion. The reason the gospel frees us in this sense is because in the gospel, as Paul would say earlier in Romans 12, we find a renewal of our minds. Practically, that means our minds are renewed in the way we view other people.

We no longer view them as threats to us.We no longer see them in competition with us.We no longer see them as tools to be used for our own pleasure and advancement.

And what’s left at the end, is just people. Men and women created in the image of God, in need of the same grace, and justified by the same Savior. And at that moment, when we see people for themselves, apart from what they might give or take from us, we are free to truly and completely love them. We can, at long last, rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.

This is why the practice – even the discipline – of rejoicing with those who rejoice is not important just because we are brothers and sisters in Christ; it’s not only important for the building up of community; it’s not only important for the furtherance of unity amongst ourselves –

It’s is important for the sake of our own souls. Here we find yet another means by which the Holy Spirit, in His grace, refocuses our eyes off of ourselves. It is yet another means by which we can fight our own selfish ambition and vain conceit. It is yet another means by which we can, at long last, break free of our own preoccupation with us.

Rejoicing with someone else is a grace. Not only for them, but also for us.

One Mindset Shift to Fuel Your Generosity

The Bible pays a lot of attention to the way we think. Take, for example, Paul’s words in Romans 12:

“Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may discern what is the good pleasing, and perfect will of God” (Rom. 12:2).

This is a verse about transformation. That transformation is something that has happened, and yet continues to happen in the life of the Christian. When we believe in the truth of the gospel, we become something different. We are made into a new creation. Then we behave according to what we have become.

That’s the three-step process: Believe. Become. Behave. Our faith leads to transformation which leads to a different set of behaviors. Tucked inside that formula is the importance of the way we think. True transformation begins in the mind before it hits our actions.

Put another way, our actions don’t start with our willpower; they start in our minds. If we want to choose the good and godly way of behavior, then we ought to have the right mindset. Which brings us to the topic of generosity.

Generosity is a choice, and it’s a choice God expects us to make as His children:

The person who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the person who sows generously will also reap generously. Each person should do as he has decided in his heart—not reluctantly or out of compulsion, since God loves a cheerful giver (2 Cor. 9:6-7).

God not only desires us to make generous choices, but He desires us to do it with a joyful heart. That can many times be difficult to do, can’t it? After all, there are so many things that seem to beg for our resources. So what kind of mindset must we have if we are to not only be generous, but joyfully generous?

There are several shifts we might need to make. For example, we might need to shift our mindset from thinking of ourselves as owners of our resources to thinking of ourselves as stewards of our resources:

The earth and everything in it,
the world and its inhabitants,
belong to the Lord;
for he laid its foundation on the seas
and established it on the rivers (Ps. 24:1-2).

If we start to view God as the true owner of everything we have and, in turn, see ourselves as managers of those resources, then generosity comes more easily.

We might also need to change our mindset from thinking of ourselves as poor to thinking of ourselves as rich:

Blessed is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavens in Christ (Eph. 1:3).

Regardless of what the balance is in our bank accounts, we are rich in Christ. God has held nothing back from us; we have every single blessing in the heavens already because of Jesus. This, too, will help us to be generous.

But here’s one more pivotal mindset shift we need to make – we need to stop thinking about generosity as sacrifice and start thinking about it as investment. Here’s how Jesus put it:

“Don’t store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves don’t break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matt. 6:19-21).

Jesus isn’t just calling for generosity; He’s calling for investors. He’s not saying that we need to sacrifice; He’s telling us to make our investments in that which offers the most sure and lasting return. Yes, generosity might require sacrifice, but that sacrifice only happens in the near-term. It’s a sacrifice for a greater return.

If you’re struggling with generosity today, friends, then don’t just work yourself into generosity. Change your mindset. Look to Jesus who is calling you to invest in something better.

3 Fundamental Truths About God’s Judgment

Christianity is a faith of unity, but it is not a faith of uniformity. One of the ways we see that dynamic work out is in the fact that Christians just do not agree about everything. We read the same Bible, believe in the same gospel, want to follow the same Jesus, and still disagree about things. One of those things involves eschatology. That’s the theological word for the end times.

There are all different kinds of opinions about when Jesus will return, what will happen when He does, and how the final judgment of God will be conducted. But in the midst of all those different opinions, there are a few things that all of us acknowledge to be true.

Regardless of what your eschatological persuasion, here are three fundamental truths about God’s judgment:

1. Judgment is the exclusive work of God.

One of the most quoted verses in the Bible is Matthew 7:1:

“Do not judge, so that you won’t be judged.”

Now most of the time when someone quotes that verse, they do so with the spirit of permissiveness. We want to be the authority over our own lives, and so no one has the right to tell us what we are doing is wrong. So in quoting that verse, most of the time what we mean is “Mind your own business.”

But Jesus’ intent was not to tell us that we cannot, in love, call out the sin in others. Nor was it to tell us that we cannot broadly speak out about issues of evil and injustice in the world around us. Instead, Matthew 7:1 is a warning, and the warning is that we, as humans, should not presume to take the place of God.

Judgment (in the ultimate and eternal sense) is the exclusive work of God, and the reason why that’s true is because God is the only One qualified to do it. He is the only One who knows the full facts, motives, and intent of every person. He’s the only One truly impartial. And He’s the only One powerful enough to execute it in the right and proportionate way.

2. Judgment is the certain work of God.

Peter wrote what we know today as 2 Peter in the context of people who were questioning whether Jesus was actually coming back. They woke up day after day and everything was the same as it was yesterday. So where was the return of Christ? Where was this time when everything was set right? Here’s how Peter responded:

Dear friends, don’t overlook this one fact: With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day. 9 The Lord does not delay his promise, as some understand delay, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish but all to come to repentance (2 Pet. 3:8-9).

Peter’s point was something like this – we should not mistake God’s patience for His apathy. Yes, God has delayed His judgment, but that’s not because He doesn’t care about what’s happening on the earth. And it’s not because He is excusing what’s happening on earth. It’s because of His great love and desire for everyone to repent, because when that judgment happens, it will be too late.

But His judgment, though delayed in His patience, is certain. It will come.

3. Judgment is the motivating work of God.

If we return to Peter’s words, we find that God’s judgment ought to motivate us as he continues in verse 10:

But the day of the Lord will come like a thief; on that day the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, the elements will burn and be dissolved, and the earth and the works on it will be disclosed. Since all these things are to be dissolved in this way, it is clear what sort of people you should be in holy conduct and godliness as you wait for the day of God and hasten its coming. Because of that day, the heavens will be dissolved with fire and the elements will melt with heat. But based on his promise, we wait for new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness dwells (2 Pet. 3:10-13).

The reality of God’s judgment ought to move us toward holiness. And it ought to move us toward sharing the gospel with others. It ought to motivate us to quickly forgive and to not take matters of vengeance into our own hands. God’s judgment should motivate us in all kinds of ways, but perhaps the best summary word for that motivation is this:

We should live with a ready posture.

Is that true of us today? Are we living with a sense of expectation and readiness in light of God’s judgment? Because it is coming. And it is exclusive to God. Let’s be motivated in light of those things.

4 Truths to Combat Laziness

There is a difference between rest and laziness. Rest is part of the natural rhythm of life, and rest is actually an expression of faith. When we rest, we can only do so because we believe the words of Jesus, that “it is finished,” and we have nothing left to prove. But laziness? Well, that’s different. Laziness is filled with apathy rather than gratitude, with entitlement rather than stewardship.

So how can we guard our hearts from laziness? I’d suggest we start with reminding ourselves of a few truths:

1. God has planned good works for you to walk in.

The Apostle Paul laid out three components of salvation as outlined by Paul in Ephesians 2:8-10. According to that text, salvation is:

By grace.

Through faith.

For good works.

This is the means, the avenue, and the result of salvation. These are the pillars upon which life in Christ balances, each of which is necessary for that life to stand. In further reflecting on those pillars, it’s great to see that these good works – the result of what comes by grace through faith – are not random. They are not haphazard. Instead, these are intentionally chosen, fashioned, and set apart good works for us to live inside by God Himself. They are your good works; and they are my good works. And yours are not mine and mine are not yours. Thus is the nature of God setting them out for us as individuals. Sure, they intersect, and sure, they might look similar, in that you might give or serve in a similar way that I would. But yours are still yours. And mine are still mine. If we truly believe that, then we should live in expectation of encountering these opportunities on a daily basis. We should even be seeking them out actively. This truth helps us to combat laziness, for by faith we trust that in our daily lives, we will encounter pre-planned good.

2. Work is part of being made in God’s image.

If you look back to the very beginning of creation, you’ll see that one of the first things God did when he planted Adam in the garden was to give him a job to do:

“The Lord God took the man and placed him in the garden of Eden to work it and watch over it” (Genesis 2:15).

Work is in our DNA. It’s part of who we are as humans to do work, to contribute, and in so doing, to be an extension of God’s common grace into the world. In a perfect world – in the Eden world – that work would be hard, but joyful and satisfying. But work, like everything else, has been corrupted by the fall. And now we don’t just work – we toil. What was meant to be satisfying and fulfilling is now drudgery. And we feel it, don’t we?

But someday, when we are fully sanctified and glorified and with the Lord, we won’t exist in a state of laziness. We will work. But we will at last experience work the way it was intended to be. If that is our eternal destiny, then far be it from us to be lazy now.

3. Your days are numbered.

The psalmist prayed in Psalm 90:12:

Teach us to number our days carefully so that we may develop wisdom in our hearts.

If we are interested in combatting laziness, then this is a good prayer for us to take up as well. Learning to number your days isn’t about learning how many days you have; rather, it’s about realizing the finite amount of time you and I have on this earth, and in light of our finitude, to resolve to make the most of what time we have for the sake of God’s kingdom.

Numbering our days isn’t about creating a bucket list; it’s about committing ourselves to what truly matters. Which leads to the final truth that will help us combat laziness…

4. Some work will last.

Oh, yes – some work will last. But the opposite is also true. Some work will not. It is a fearsome thing to consider that what you or I might be giving the majority of our time, energy, and effort to one day will be consumed and burned up:

 If anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay, or straw, each one’s work will become obvious. For the day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire; the fire will test the quality of each one’s work. If anyone’s work that he has built survives, he will receive a reward. If anyone’s work is burned up, he will experience loss, but he himself will be saved—but only as through fire (1 Cor. 3:12-16).

A passage like this ought to help drive out lazy tendencies from us. We should want to make sure we are doing work that will last for eternity. And even if the work we are doing is secular in nature, we have opportunities inside that work to build on the foundation of Jesus.

Faith Becomes Logic in Hindsight

Faith, by its very nature, lacks tangible proof. That’s not to say that evidence does not exist for faith, because it certainly does. For centuries scholars have presented research about all kinds of topics like the reality of Jesus’ resurrection and the reliability of the Bible, all coming together to show that Christianity is, at the very least a reasonable system of belief. And yet at some point, even bolstered by evidence, faith has to move beyond intellect into trust.

To trust is active in nature. It means placing the weight of your belief in Jesus and in Him alone. Doing that requires a leap, or as the writer of Hebrews tells us, “Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see,” (Heb. 11:1).

We trust what we don’t see. We believe despite what our senses tell us. We leap even though our circumstances tell us something different. The thing, though, faith does indeed become logic in hindsight. Take, for example, the account from the Book of Luke about the morning of Jesus’ resurrection:

On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, they came to the tomb, bringing the spices they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb. They went in but did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men stood by them in dazzling clothes. So the women were terrified and bowed down to the ground.

“Why are you looking for the living among the dead?” asked the men. “He is not here, but he has risen! Remember how he spoke to you when he was still in Galilee, saying, ‘It is necessary that the Son of Man be betrayed into the hands of sinful men, be crucified, and rise on the third day’?” And they remembered his words (Luke 24:1-9).

Can you imagine the roller coaster of emotions that went through Jesus’ friends that day? They showed up in grief and mourning. Then they were confused because the body was gone. Then they were terrified. And then they were… what?

Still confused? Still afraid? But maybe a glimmer of hope was there, too? The thread of an idea that perhaps Jesus had indeed risen from the dead?

But along with those emotions, also take note of the message the angels delivered. “Why are you looking for the living among the dead?” they said. “He is not here, but he has risen!” they said. These are statements of logic.

“Of course He’s not here. And the reason He’s not here is because He’s not dead. Don’t you remember what He told you?”

And they began to remember. So it is with us. We come up against all kinds of difficult circumstances in life. We wonder if God is going to provide for us. We wonder if He has a plan. We wonder if He’s even real. But then, after the fact, and with the luxury of a little time and reflection, we see the answer to all of those questions is, “Of course.”

Of course He provided. Of course He loves us. Of course He was active in our circumstances. Of course He was. What was a matter of faith beforehand becomes a matter of logic in hindsight.

Now why does that matter for us today? Well, you likely are experiencing both scenarios simultaneously right now. There are some things in your life, right now, that you must process by faith. You don’t understand why something is happening or when it’s going to be over or even what God might be doing. But you move forward, despite your circumstances and despite your feelings, in faith.

But at the same time, surely you can look back over the last few months of years and remember other times when you had the same questions. The same fears. The same doubts. And yet in hindsight, you are able to see, “Of course God was at work.”

Let the “of course” of hindsight fuel the faith of the present today.

3 Truths About Money To Make You More Cautious

There is a difference between a “guide” and a “manual.” A guide is someone or something that helps you along a predetermined path. That person or thing knows the way you should go, but you are on a journey of discovery. Your guide is right there with you, walking the path alongside you. But a manual is different.

A manual gives you step-by-step instructions in what you should do or the way you should go. It’s numbered and sub-numbers, making sure to tell you the exact next move as clearly as possible. 

In those terms, it’s more helpful to think of the Bible as a guide than a manual. The reason is simple – the Bible isn’t going to tell you every specific thing you need to do – or not do – in life. It doesn’t work that way. That’s not to say there aren’t direct instructions in the Bible because there certainly are. But more of the time, the Bible lays out principles for us about who God is and the way things are in the world. And these principles, with the guidance of the Holy Spirit, become the foundation for the way we think about the specific actions and decisions we are confronted with.

Take money, for example. Now the Bible says alot about money, but the Bible isn’t going to tell you whether to buy a new car or not. Nor will it tell you exactly how much to put in your retirement account. But it will teach us the right posture to have when it comes to money. 

And the posture we should have when it comes to money is this: caution.

We need to be careful when it comes to money. Here are four truths the Bible tells us that relate to money and put us in that posture:

1. Money is the primary competitor for your affection.

“No one can serve two masters, since either he will hate one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money” (Matt. 6:24).

Jesus could have set up anything as the primary competitor to God in our lives. He could have easily said something like, “You cannot serve both God and power,” or “You cannot serve both God and sex,” but instead He chose money. We ought to be cautious around money if that’s true.

2. Money is the root of all kinds of evil. 

But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out. If we have food and clothing, we will be content with these. But those who want to be rich fall into temptation, a trap, and many foolish and harmful desires, which plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and by craving it, some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs (1 Tim. 6:6-10).

It’s that last line that should make us especially cautious – that the love of money is a lure that has caused, and will cause, many to wander away from the faith. That’s because all those things of the world – power, sex, pleasure – these are all things that can be bought with money. In and of itself money is not evil, but it can certainly be the currency of our departure from godliness.

3. Money is temporary.

“Don’t store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves don’t break in and steal” (Matt. 6:19-20).

We should be cautious in investing too much of ourselves into money because, frankly, the end return is not great. Money is temporary. No matter how important it might be to us now, it won’t always be so. Far better is for us to invest ourselves into things that are going to last forever. 

When it comes to money, the Bible guides us to a posture of caution. We should be careful around it because it is the primary competitor for our hearts, because it can lead to all kinds of evil, and because it’s temporary. Instead of investing our hearts in money, then, we should recognize that money is, and always has been, more than just a means of purchase; it is the currency of safety, security, and status. As long as there has been money, it has been a ready-made substitute for those things we are meant to find in God. 

When our bank account is full, we feel safe. When funds are plentiful, we feel secure. And when our balance is busting, we feel important. These are deep, soul-level needs common to every human being. They are also deep, soul-level needs that can only be met by God. Money is, at best, a poor substitute for what we find in God alone. Let our desire for money lead us to something deeper. More lasting. That we can find in God alone. 

The Quantity and the Quality of God’s Provision

The Bible is full of stories of the provision of God. God provides sons, food, deliverance, hope, and money. Take, for example, the story of Elijah and the widow of Zarapheth in 1 Kings 17. God’s prophet announced that because of the idolatry in the land, the Lord would be withholding rain. We read later that it was at least three years between the declaration and when the rain started to fall, and during that time, God provided for the needs of Elijah through a widow.

Ironically, though, she didn’t have much to give:

When he arrived at the city gate, there was a widow woman gathering wood. Elijah called to her and said, ‘Please being me a little water in a cup and let me drink.’ As she went to get it, he called to her and said, ‘Please bring me a piece of bread in your hand.’

But she said, ‘As the Lord your God lives, I don’t have anything baked – only a handful of flour in the jar and a bit of oil in the jug. Just now, I am gathering a couple of sticks in order to go prepare it for myself and my son so we can eat it and die’ (1 Kings 17:10-12).

Keep reading the story and you’ll see that Elijah promised her that the flour jar and the oil jug would not run dry until rain finally fell again. So God provided for the prophet, but also for this widow. The quantity of provision was there.

Notice that the Lord didn’t give her a rack of lamb or a plate of caviar. He provided bread. Plain, old miraculous bread. Day in and day out.

Now put yourself in the place of this widow. Surely for the first few days, you would be filled with wonder. And gratitude. And hope. You would eat the little cakes with gladness. But perhaps, after the days started to drag on, you might get a little tired of the bread God had provided. Perhaps the gratitude would wane and they would start to taste a little stale.  .

I wonder if Elijah himself got tired of eating food from the mouths of birds.

I wonder if there was anyone on the hillside who didn’t like the bread and the fish Jesus gave to them.

I wonder if there were any Israelites who got tired of the taste of manna (actually I don’t wonder about this one. I know they did.)

I wonder if there was anyone who might see clearly that the Lord has provided in quantity but question its quality. If so, the issue isn’t so much with the power of God; it’s with the love and care of God. No doubt He has provided, but perhaps He hasn’t provided in the manner in which we would have preferred for Him to do so.

Why is that? Perhaps that dissatisfaction finds its root in the fact that we are, at some level, convinced that we know what is best for us. Or at least we know better than God. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be dissatisfied with the quality of God’s provision. Like a child who begs for a snack and then turns his nose up at the carrots put in front of me, we are impressed with God’s power but offended at His wisdom in exercising it.

The real question, then, is whether we believe in both. In His power and His wisdom – to not only provide, but to provide in the right way.

Don’t Leave Your Soul On Its Own

There are certain things you can control… or at least you can try to. What you eat? You can control that. How fast you choose to drive? Again, you can control that. What you choose to watch? Once again, that’s within your control.

But there are many things – most things really – that no matter how hard you try you just cannot control. You can choose what you eat, but you can’t choose whether or not you get sick. You can choose how fast you drive, but you can’t choose how fast or recklessly the other person does. You can choose what to watch, but you can’t choose what movies are being made.

And here’s another thing you really can’t control – your feelings. Oh, we can try to control them, but in the end, we are going to feel what we feel. And many times, we feel things that don’t match what we know we should feel.

We might feel sad for no good reason. Conversely, we might feel happy even though things seem to be going badly in our lives. Things sometimes just pop into our heads, changing our disposition, and we don’t know where they came from. But just because we can’t control those things doesn’t mean we have to be subject to them.

The book of Lamentations embraces this dynamic. Written in a time of great sorrow and destruction, the prophet Jeremiah looked around him at what had become of God’s chosen people. Their land had been invaded. Their city destroyed. The temple of God ransacked. All seemed to be hopeless. And here is how Jeremiah reflected on it:

I remember my affliction and my wandering,
  the bitterness and the gall.
I well remember them,
  and my soul is downcast within me.
Yet this I call to mind
  and therefore I have hope:

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
  for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
  great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
  therefore I will wait for him” (Lam. 3:19-24).

There are two dynamics in this passage. First of all, Jeremiah remembers all that has happened to him and his people. Perhaps he woke up one day, and the first thing that popped into his mind was everything wrong with the world around him. He didn’t plan it; he couldn’t control it; he just remembered. He felt. And his soul was downcast. But it didn’t stop there.

That first dynamic is passive; Jeremiah’s soul was downcast. He didn’t cause or direct or point it toward being downcast – it just… was. And if he did nothing about it, then his soul would have remained in that condition. But that’s when things changed, because the second dynamic is not passive; it’s active.

How did Jeremiah respond? He didn’t leave his soul on its own. He took action upon himself. While his soul was downcast, Jeremiah actively chose to call something else to mind. He directed himself to remember the faithfulness and compassion of the Lord.

This is a powerful principle for us: We cannot leave our souls on their own. If we do, we are assuming a passive posture. What we need instead is to actively remind ourselves of what we know to be true, even if we don’t feel it to be true.

Friends, perhaps today you had something similar pop into your mind. Into your heart. You look around you and see sadness. Discouragement. All the reasons to question God’s presence and active love. But don’t leave your soul on its own. Talk to it. Point it. Direct it.

Be active when it comes to your own soul.