One of the most tragic developments in the history of the Israelite nation in the Old Testament is found is 1 Samuel 8.  It’s far from the saddest—there are times of great rebellion and great retribution that lay a much stronger claim to that title.  The Golden Calf incident in Exodus 32, the grotesque moral and societal decay seen in the final five chapters of Judges, the horror story of two starving women descending into remorseless cannibalism of their own children in 2 Kings 6, Athaliah’s slaughter of her children and grandchildren in order to seize power in 2 Kings 11, and still others, easily surpass what amount to a political misstep in 1 Samuel 8; however, this story is more tragic. This is because the main characters are—unknowingly and with seemingly good intentions—bringing about their own downfall, despite protests from a prophet.

Then all the elders of Israel gathered together and came to Samuel at Ramah and said to him, “Behold, you are old and your sons do not walk in your ways. Now appoint for us a king to judge us like all the nations.” (1 Samuel 8.4-5)

The elders have a point—Samuel’s sons are terrible judges, failing to uphold God’s law, or even any sense of justice at all.  The people are right to chafe at this situation.  On top of that, the Law of Moses explicitly allows them to appoint a king with God’s permission: “you may indeed set a king over you whom the Lord your God will choose” (De 17.15).  But Samuel can see that appointing a king will make matters worse for the average joe, in the long run.  At God’s direction, he warns the people,

“These will be the ways of the king who will reign over you: he will take your sons and appoint them to his chariots and to be his horsemen and to run before his chariots. And he will appoint for himself commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and some to plow his ground and to reap his harvest, and to make his implements of war and the equipment of his chariots. He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive orchards and give them to his servants. He will take the tenth of your grain and of your vineyards and give it to his officers and to his servants. He will take your male servants and female servants and the best of your young men and your donkeys, and put them to his work. He will take the tenth of your flocks, and you shall be his slaves. And in that day you will cry out because of your king, whom you have chosen for yourselves, but the Lord will not answer you in that day.” (2 Samuel 8.11-18)

Note that God and Samuel both permit the people to do this.  Nowhere do they call it sinful, wrong, a transgression, unlawful, or any such thing.  There are also benefits to be had from a king: a judge whose decisions are final and binding, a single authority responsible for the defense of the realm, and also a sense of fitting in—although that last one is a benefit only in the people’s shortsighted estimation.  But they were giving up much of their own freedom, by handing over some of their responsibilities to someone else.

Throughout the course of history, practically every major power has been ruled by a monarch, even when called by a different name.  Technically Nero was the “Princeps,” the first among equals in the Roman senate, and that title carried no constitutional authority.  Yet, when Peter wrote “honor the emperor” (Greek βασιλεύς-basileus-“king”) in 1 Peter 2.17, everyone knew he meant Nero, or whoever would come to occupy his office in the future.  Even representative governments over time move increasingly toward rule by a few or even one person, because people are so willing to give up responsibility for themselves, in exchange for a feeling of security and order.

What does all of this mean?  There are political lessons to learn from it, but the spiritual lessons are more important.  Sometimes we pursue something that’s not sinful in and of itself, but leads us down a dangerous and perhaps painful path.  We often can’t see the end of that path as we walk along, and we may ignore warnings from wise people who care about us.  It’s often said that “the road to Hell is paved with good intentions,” and like most tired platitudes, there’s a lot of truth in it.  The Bible tells us the same thing: “There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death” (Pr 14.12 & 16.25—a proverb important enough to be included twice!).

Instead, we must walk by the narrow way illuminated by Christ and his apostles, and accept him as our king.  He’s in charge whether we admit it or not, but it’s far better to be his friend, than his enemy.  Back in 1 Samuel 8, the most tragic aspect of the story is easily seen in the following two verses: God says, “they have rejected me from being king over them” (v7), and Samuel warns them, “you will cry out because of your king, whom you have chosen for yourselves, but the Lord will not answer you” (v18).  It’s all their own fault.  They pushed God away, saying he wasn’t good enough a protector and judge to them, and that trusting him didn’t allow them to fit in with their neighbors.  They’ll all complain about their kings for as long as they have kings—and even when foreign kings like Nebuchadnezzar or Nero rule over them, for that matter—but they’ve brought it on themselves.  Don’t make their mistake.  Don’t reject God as your king.  Don’t make your own path harder.

Jeremy Nettles

I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3.12-14)

This passage is particularly appropriate at the end of a year and the beginning of a new one, and even more so when the outgoing year is 2020.  The whole world is happy to see a new start, and many assume the sun will shine brighter, food will taste better, the air will smell cleaner, the pandemic will go away, our political divisions will heal, and a new era of peace and harmony will begin, in which “The wolf and the lamb shall graze together;” and “the lion shall eat straw like the ox.” (Is 66.25).

If this is your impression, then I hate to be the one to spoil it for you, but it’s not going to happen.  Strife, tribulation, oppression, and disease may subside in 2021, but they won’t go away completely until all things are subjected to Christ.  The question isn’t whether these troubles will continue, but how we will react, when they do.

When Paul wrote the words of Philippians 3 quoted above, he was facing trial and possible execution due to his faith.  Even with the axe hanging over his head, he didn’t give in, didn’t give up, and didn’t see any reason sit back and relax.  He didn’t dwell on the struggles of the past, nor did he rest on his laurels, but instead continued to press forward, answering Christ’s call to heaven.  The reason Paul mentions this is not to make his readers think more highly of him, but to encourage them to adopt the same mentality, and to continue pushing forward themselves, as he says in verse 17, “Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us.”  

It’s not that God doesn’t want us to learn from history or our own experiences—otherwise we wouldn’t know where to go, what to do, how, or why.  But we shouldn’t dwell on the troubles of the past.  We shouldn’t relive the past at the expense of the present and, more importantly, the future.  As we enter into a new year, we shouldn’t become stuck in the old one, but we should learn from it, and use that knowledge to better serve God and his Kingdom today and tomorrow.

Some of this learning and pressing forward is mostly informational, such as what tactics work, and don’t work, in preventing outbreaks of a particular virus.  But much more consequential than that, is the moral dimension.  Were you perfectly righteous in the year 2020?  Perhaps a handful of people would claim to have been, but they should take a look at 1 Corinthians 10.12: “let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall,” as well as James 3.2: “we all stumble in many ways,” and 1 John 1.8: “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.”  Most people are either humble enough or tactful enough to admit to imperfection, but we ought to go beyond that, as John says in the following verse, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1Jn 1.9).

Yet, at the same time, we shouldn’t dwell on our past sins, or relive them so that they hinder our progress today.  That’s not what Jesus wants—he wants to forgive and cleanse us!  He wants to give us eternal life!  He wants us to join him beside his Father, as he says, “The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne” (Re 3.21).  We must not continue to live in past sins.  On the one hand, simply continuing to behave in unholy and harmful ways puts a barrier between us and God, because he does not allow anything unholy in his presence.  On the other hand, even a person who is sorrowful and repentant can ruin his own efforts to clean up, as Paul says of himself, “I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate” (Ro 7.15).  He takes it even a step farther a few verses later, saying, “I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out” (v18).  Just thinking of yourself as the sort of person who would do that awful thing, makes it easier to give in and do it again.  This inward struggle with fleshly desires is a part of the human condition, ever since Adam and Eve opened the door to the knowledge of good and evil, and took themselves and their descendants out of the realm of innocence, and into captivity under sin.  None of us is guiltless.  In fact, our awareness of the past and our own actions’ physical consequences, is part of what makes us accountable for those actions. We knew better, or should have known better, yet we did it anyway.

That is why each of us must die to sin and “put off the old self with its practices,” putting on “the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator” (Co 3.9-10).  The year 2021 will not be your perfect year.  The New Year does not miraculously make a New You.  But there is something you can do—refuse to dwell in past sins and mistakes, and focus instead on pushing forward with all of your strength, learning from the past and imitating those who walk according to the example of Christ and his apostles.  Confess your sins and seek forgiveness and cleansing, and pursue the prize of eternal life with Jesus in his Father’s home, where evil can no longer tempt you, and no longer hurt you.

Jeremy Nettles

“The end of all things is at hand; therefore be self-controlled and sober-minded” (1Pe 4.7).  As this crazy year winds down and we anticipate a new beginning in just a few days, it’s even more appropriate than normal to reflect on what a year it has been, and remember what really matters.

Obviously, the pandemic steals the show.  It had already been an interesting couple of months before the virus reached us, and from there it just got weirder.  We spent months with a locked down economy and remote work, worship, shopping, and relationships.  This was followed by fights in practically every arena of life, and while most of those have since simmered down, there remains a deep division in society, and even in the church, over The Science.  Sadly, this division has contributed to broken relationships, including between Christians who really should know better how to bear with and forgive each other (Co 3.13).

That’s not to mention the death toll.  Currently, there have been roughly 1.7 million deaths globally from this virus. About 320,000 of those were in the United States, about 7,200 in the state of Indiana, and about 270 have been local.  We’re nowhere near the point of saying, “there was not a house where someone was not dead” (Ex 12.30), but all of us at least know someone who lost a loved one to covid, and all of us know several who have survived the disease.  For comparison, note that the total number of people who died in World War 1 was about 20 million, at a time when the world’s population was less than a third what it is today.  The world has seen far worse, and it’s worth noting as well that this country alone kills nearly a million babies in the womb each year.  Nevertheless, for most people this has been an awful year.

This serves as a strong reminder that the world is far from perfect.  “Sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned” (Ro 5.12), and as much as we hate the suffering and death of this world, it’s clear that these problems are really our own fault.  It’s not that we inherit guilt from Adam and Eve, but we do inherit their curse, and incur our own guilt by making the same choice to rebel against God.  Death, in the big picture, is a consequence of sin.

While this year often felt like the end of the world was approaching, it can’t compare to the real end of all things.  We don’t really know that much about what to expect there.  The main thing we know for sure, is that no one knows when it will come: “the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect” (Lk 12.40).  There are other tidbits shared with us, however, for example that

the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed. (2 Peter 3.10)

That only affects the physical world, but while the physical is temporary, the spirit is eternal.  This world will be destroyed, but we “will give account to him who is ready to judge the living and the dead” (1Pe 4.5).  In that world, everything changes.  God

“will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21.4)

How wonderful, to do away with all of the things that made this year so miserable, and instead live in the city where

No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever. (Revelation 22.3-5)

But that’s not the only option, of course.  As noted a moment ago, the Son of Man is appointed to judge, and judging involves distinguishing between different categories.  “And he will place the sheep on his right, but the goats on the left” (Mt 25.33).  If the sheep get to enter the kingdom, what happens to the goats?  “Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels’” (v41).

What a contrast!  One option involves eternal relief from all the things that have plagued us this year.  The other involves far worse suffering, with no chance of relief, “where their worm does not die and the fire is not quenched” (Mk 9.48).  Are you prepared to face the end?  

Every year, we look forward to a fresh start as December rolls around into January, but the reality is usually disappointing.  Just consider how optimistic we were as 2020 began!  This world will never live up to our hopes, and it’s our own fault.  We keep getting new chances to start the year off right, and we keep ruining it.  A time will come when you no longer have the opportunity to write another chapter.  How do you want the book to end?  How do you get to that point?  

There is only one path to life.  It’s through Jesus, “the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh” (He 10.20).  Make sure that, even as we put this long year out of its misery, you’re prepared for a much more consequential ending, that will determine the state of your soul forever.

Jeremy Nettles

Many people acknowledge Jesus as Lord and Savior, but are mistaken about achieving salvation.  Some look at forgiveness, righteousness, and salvation as within their own power to grasp.  On the contrary, Paul tells us,

But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life. (Titus 3.4-7)

He explains this further in the first several chapters of Romans, making it clear that we are unable to attain righteousness through our own will and actions.  It’s not that we have no choice in the matter, but rather that we all have already forfeited any claim on the right to eternal life, “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Ro 3.23).  Just like Adam and Eve, we had our chance, and we blew it.  Mercifully, while we can’t possibly achieve a standing of righteousness before the Lord, Jesus is able to give it to us, and through the blood of his sacrifice he offers us justification and salvation from certain condemnation.

On the other hand, some focus so much on what Jesus does, that they neglect their own role in becoming justified before God.  The mistake on this side is to say that, because salvation is not something we can earn ourselves, our actions and decisions have no bearing on our eternal life or death.  That’s an attractive idea to someone struggling against sin and falling under its power, but it’s just not what God said!  First of all, the once-saved-always-saved assumption is utterly false, as demonstrated in Galatians 5.4, Hebrews 3.12 & 6.4-8, 2 Peter 2.20-22 & 3.17, 1 John 5.16, 2 John 8,  Revelation 2 & 3, and many others.  On top of that minor problem, God’s word makes it very clear that our manner of life must change—that we must imitate and embody the righteousness of Christ, not just wear it as a label. 

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. (Ephesians 2.8-10)

Paul also asks in Romans 6.2, “How can we who died to sin still live in it?”  These two, along with many other passages, make it abundantly clear that, although perfect righteousness is an unattainable goal for us in the physical world, it’s still one God expects us to pursue, with his help.

This twin misunderstanding also applies on a larger scale, to the salvation of the whole world.  On the one hand, it’s quite plain from things Jesus says, things the Apostles say, and the visions God gave to John, that the world will never become one great, happy church, striving in unison to praise God and live righteously.  For example,

If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. (John 15.19-20)

Additionally,

all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted, while evil people and impostors will go on from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived. (2 Timothy 3.12-13)

And finally, in the latter part of Revelation 19, Christ appears on a white horse, wearing a robe dipped in blood, and striking down the nations, treading “the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty” (v15).  Does that sound like the world has voluntarily submitted itself and confessed that Jesus is Lord?  So, it’s pretty clear that no matter how hard we try, no matter how skillfully we preach the Gospel, no matter how many sacrifices we make, no matter how many hours we put in, no matter how tirelessly we plead, we will not convert the world to Christ.

Does that mean we shouldn’t try?  Just as pursuing righteousness in our individual lives is not only worthwhile but compulsory, so is the pursuit of teaching the world about Jesus.  He told his apostles to

“make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.” (Matthew 28.19-20)

Why should his followers chase an unattainable goal?  Because he wants us to do so.  Because it serves his purpose.  Because even though we won’t ever get the world to serve Christ, we will convince some.  Our job is to plant and water, but God gives the growth (1Co 3.6).  “At present, we do not yet see everything in subjection to him,” (He 2.8), but we look forward to the time when God finishes putting all his enemies under Christ’s feet, when we can finally shout with the angels in heaven, “The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever” (Re 11.15).  We aren’t able to bring about that end ourselves, but God can.  And God wants your hands to contribute to the work.

Jeremy Nettles

When I set out to write an article most weeks, I already have a topic in mind.  It’s usually something I’ve chosen long beforehand and penciled into a schedule, whether it’s an idea that’s been on my mind lately, or something I think people need to hear, or the spiritual implications of some current event.  Once in a while, it happens that I have no predetermined topic, and on those occasions I often flip through my bible at random on the lookout for something accessible, relatable, and sufficiently brief. 

All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work. (2 Timothy 3.16-17)

The principle at work here is that harping on my preferred topics exclusively would cause us to miss out on other important things, and there’s always something in the Bible worth our consideration, whether we know it or not.  Whenever I do this, I’m reminded of times I’ve heard someone preach with no notes or preparation, introduced by some version of the following declaration: “I’m just going to let the Holy Spirit guide me, and whatever passage I open to, that’ll be our topic.”  There’s a lot wrong with this picture.  Why would anyone in the audience take this seriously?  Why would any preacher claim to be doing this?  Do they even believe it, themselves?  

There are probably some grifters out there who are deliberately deceiving others, but for the most part, the people who do these sorts of things really do believe it.  The idea of allowing the Holy Spirit to guide your words isn’t made up—Jesus said,

“do not be anxious how you are to speak or what you are to say, for what you are to say will be given to you in that hour. For it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.” (Matthew 10.19-20)

Paul used the phrase, “led by the Spirit” in Galatians 5.18, and again in Romans 8.14.  Earlier in the same chapter he wrote,

You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. (Romans 8.9-10)

That all being the case, it appears all Christians are mere conduits for God’s Spirit to say what he wants.

Yet, that raises the question, why do people who are letting the Holy Spirit speak through them disagree with each other so often?  Something’s fishy, isn’t it?  Perhaps what we have here is the situation John sought to address, when he wrote,

Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world. (1 John 4.1)

What a terrifying thought!  So there will be some people out there claiming God speaks through them, but in fact it’s “the spirit of the antichrist” (v3)!  John gives a litmus test for telling which is which, but it doesn’t seem to take care of our problem today, because many who agree that “Jesus Christ has come in the flesh” (v2), as John stipulates, nevertheless disagree with each other about very important matters!

On top of this, why do the messages tend to align so well with the specific preferences of the people who preach them?  Once again, something’s fishy here.  As with everything, context is key.  When Jesus gave his instruction to let the Spirit speak God’s words, he was talking specifically to his twelve Apostles, about how to handle being hauled into court for preaching the Gospel.  There are no Apostles today, and even as persecution began to heat up in the early church, Peter didn’t tell the average Christian to adopt this method of dealing with persecutors—instead he said,

Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you. (1 Peter 3.14-15)

Far from casually expecting the Spirit to speak through us on demand, he tells us to prepare!  And why shouldn’t we?  Unlike the Apostles at the beginning, we have the New Testament available to us in full, revealed by God’s Spirit.  Why wouldn’t we simply trust all that the Spirit has already said?

Then, there’s Paul’s prediction that prophecy, speaking in tongues, and knowledge will pass away and cease (1Co 13.8).  He does not say the the Spirit will pass away or cease, but that certain of the supernatural spiritual gifts Christians in the first century experienced, would pass away.  Why?  Because they would no longer be needed.  He continues in verse 10, “when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away.”

There’s still the argument over when exactly that passing away was to occur, but when you compare the obvious and undeniable public miracles common in the book of Acts, to the lame and scammy offerings of con artists today, it’s pretty clear that the time of supernatural spiritual gifts—including direct revelation—is over.  These frauds and hacks are led by the spirit, alright; but it’s their own spirit, not God’s.  It’s the same idolatry that so often seduced the ancient Israelites: self-gratification, dressed up as devotion to a higher power.  Don’t be fooled.

Jeremy Nettles