Over the next several months, we will be reading someone else's mail. I say that as sort of a creative way to refer to the fact that this New Testament book, this epistle to the Philippians, really is a letter from the apostle Paul to the local church that he had started in the city of Philippi.
But in another sense, I say that because, you read the opening paragraphs of this letter, and you get a sense that there's this deep, personal connection between Paul and the Philippians. To me, I read these opening words...and it's like I'm peering into this tender exchange, this honest expression of love and longing between Paul and this group of people, this little local church.
It doesn't take too long before the question arises: Why? Like, why does God need me to pray for Him to act? Like if—as it says in Matthew 6:8, God already knows what we need before we ask Him—why does He need me to ask? And why sometimes when I do ask for something I think I need, I don't end up getting it? And then, why do I sometimes miraculously get things I didn't even pray for? Like if God always wants what is good and best for us—and He always does what is good and best for us (regardless of what we think is good and best)—then what does my prayer have to do in anything?
I know, for me personally, any talk of a Reboot in my own prayer life—the first hurdle I have to get over is this question. Why?
"In the Jewish community at that time, "Father" was a powerful idea that carried meaning for every aspect of your life. It was a term that referred to more than just your biological birth father. It was a term that you would refer to your ancesters. It was also a term that could refer to a ruler or a king or a governor of a city, that their role of governing the city or to of the community was similar to the role of a father over his household. And so it carried great significance.
"To refer to the Messiah as "Everlasting Father" —not as a reference that Jesus was "The Father" like in reference to His role in the Holy Trinity—but as a reference to His role in the lives of His people. One of the main roles ascribed to someone with the title "Father" was this idea of identity and belonging."
"Go to the Oxford dictionary today, and look up the word "grace" and it will tell you that it is God's "unmerited favor." But while this is a widely accepted definition of God's grace, it is, like we were saying last week with the gospel, a rather truncated or reduced definition that actually robs it of the power ascribed to it by the authors of the New Testament. Because to define grace as merely God's unmerited favor...really boils it down to God's attitude towards us. Basically, it reduces grace down to the statement, "God likes us even though he has no reason to." Which is amazingly true. We humans are unmeritedly favored by God. But, that is not all that grace, as the New Testament writers use it, is about."
“The understanding of the Gospel that circulates in many religious—and even unreligious circles—can be described as gospels of sin management. Essentially, different ways of saying, ‘Jesus died for your sins. And if you accept him as your Savior, you can get your sins forgiven and go to heaven when you die.” Now the thing about these definitions of the Gospel is that the basic concept that they talk about is very biblical. the Bible is very clear that we all us humans are sinners are sinners, and through Jesus we can be forgiven of our sins and be assured of living in eternity in the presence of God. But the problem with making this the core of the Gospel is that they center the message on the wrong thing. It makes everything about where we spend life after death. We end up being the stars, the center of the story. Which of course is a problem. Because us being the center of the story—well that’s what got us into this mess in the first place."
"The trouble with leaving it at "Trust God" is that the concept of God is so broad—infinite really—that if we're not careful, we can create a picture or an image of God that is intangible and obscure, an image of God that isn't even accurate...So it is of no comfort to us in our [specific] time of trouble and it leaves us helpless to the onslaught that troubles our hearts, and makes joy unsustainable..."
But there's something different—at least for me, at least this week—to have Jesus look me in the eye, and say, "Trust in me. Trust in me. You believe in God. Believe also in me."
"James says it this way: 'Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.' (James 1:17) And it is this truth—this fact—that makes being thankful in the midst of disappointment and trials a reasonable response. You see, being thankful is not dishonest or naive or ignorant of facts. Really, it is ignorance that requires ignorance of facts. In order to complain, we have to look past all the good things, to pick out the exception to the rule. And then focus all of our energy on that one exception..."
When we're attentive to the Spirit, He can teach us through a variety of unconventional ways—through circumstances, through friends, and even through the songs we hear. Our pastors have been listening, and over three-weeks, they'll share a few words of wisdom by playing off various songs that are currently popular. Today's sermon is on the subject of contentment, and seeing beyond our circumstances to the beautiful, grace-filled life we indeed have.
"Sometimes the circumstances of our lives are unpleasant. But however unpleasant they may be, they are not the truest thing about life. Christ is. His goodness, His faithfulness, His love for us are the truest thing, the most important thing. It is He who makes life beautiful."
In this series, we explore how we tell the story of the Good News of life in God's Kingdom through different actions of the church—in our baptism, in our worship gatherings, in conversations with others, through prayer, and at the communion table. These practices form us in the way of the Kingdom and spur us to live out our faith in the details of our lives.