“Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do…”

(John 14.15)

Jesus is our standard.  This is no surprise—to begin with, he’s the Son of God, the Anointed Prophet, High Priest, and King, and he told us as much.  But on top of that, not only is is his word absolute and binding, but as “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (Jn 1.29), he is entirely free from the blemish of sin.  We can see that this must be the case, because it’s crucial to the scheme of sacrificial atonement God ordained; but on top of that, the evidence from his life confirms it.  Of course, when the apostles wrote that “in him there is no sin” (1Jn 3.5), the skeptic may simply say they were mistaken, if not lying; but even the skeptic must admit that Jesus was executed on charges of blasphemy, because he made himself out to be equal with God—which, of course, isn’t a blasphemous thing to say, if it’s true!  Many times Jesus issued a challenge to those who wanted to get rid of him: “Which one of you convicts me of sin?” (Jn 8.46).  But, in fact, despite having all the reason in the world to delve into Jesus’ past and his private behavior in order to discredit him, their every attempt fell flat.

Of course, modern skeptics occasionally attempt to succeed where Jesus’ accusers failed, and paint one or another of Jesus’ actions, recorded in the Gospels, as sinful.  Likely candidates for this treatment are his use of force in cleansing the temple, (cf. Jn 2.15), attempts to catch him in a lie (e.g. Jn 7.8-10), or in recent years the more creative accusation of racial bigotry surrounding the Canaanite woman in Matthew 15.  Christians are often tempted to skirt the issue with respect to these, and simply refer to one of the several verses that affirm, “He committed no sin” (1Pe 2.22).  That’s a mistake—we ought to confront the specific accusations and wrestle with them, in light of the Scriptures’ consistent line on this point.  And in fact there is a simple explanation available for each of these imagined infractions.  But that brings us back to Jesus’ sinlessness, and his instruction to follow his example.  This is where it gets uncomfortable.

If we are to do the works that Jesus did (Jn 14.15), it would be sensible for us to create a rough list of his works.  Browsing through the Gospels, we see that he resisted temptation; that he taught the will of God; that he instructed sinners to repent; that he called average people to devote their lives to his service; that he prayed—a lot; that he endured persecution; that he fasted; that he feasted; that he associated with the lowly and sinners as easily as with elite pharisees; that he perplexed many and enraged some; that he humiliated the self-righteous who tried to entrap him; that he forgave those who sinned against him; that he blessed and gave attention to children.  This is a long list, and includes some difficult, yet attainable behaviors for us to emulate.  But it’s hardly exhaustive!  On that long list, there’s a surprising lack of the “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father,” which is “to visit orphans and widows in their affliction” (Ja 1.27)!  But that sort of thing is missing, only because we’ve carefully skipped over Jesus’ supernatural works!

He also healed the sick and disabled; cast out demons; calmed storms; raised the dead; fed enormous crowds; and much, much more!  In fact, these are the “works” Jesus himself meant, when he said,

“If I am not doing the works of my Father, then do not believe me; but if I do them, even though you do not believe me, believe the works, that you may know and understand that the Father is in me and I am in the Father.”

(John 10.37-38)

As we strive to imitate Jesus, we should not ignore these deeds of mercy!  Of course, we’re quite limited in our ability to do these things—lacking his divine power, we can only do our best to accomplish similar ends, by natural means.  But failure to do these things does not come from a lack of miraculous power; rather, it comes from a heart that pursues only its own interests, ignoring those of others!

When we compare ourselves to Jesus—as we should do on a weekly basis, at the very least—we will always come up short.  We simply fail to measure up to the standard he has set, and any suggestion otherwise is the product of either ignorance, or arrogance.  Our inability to accomplish his supernatural feats of love is mirrored by our repeated failure to keep ourselves “unstained from the world” (Ja 1.27). 

But the situation is far from hopeless!  Yes, we are prone to sin—but “if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous” (1Jn 2.1).  He doesn’t sit on his throne, shaking his head in disgust and looking forward to sending us to hell.  It’s the opposite!  He’s our advocate before his Father, interceding on our behalf, since he has experienced our human weakness.

In similar fashion, we lack the power, for example, to feed thousands of people with no more than a handful of fish and loaves.  But it’s not just about the outward form of these things.  It begins with a mind and heart to serve—the mind and heart of Jesus.

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant…”

(Philippians 2.3-7)

Jeremy Nettles

For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing.

(2 Timothy 4.6-8)

Paul wrote these words from a prison cell in Rome, awaiting the completion of his trial.  It was far from Paul’s first incarceration, but this occasion was different.  Consider what Paul had written to the Christians at Philippi, during his previous imprisonment at Rome:

…I will remain and continue with you all, for your progress and joy in the faith, so that in me you may have ample cause to glory in Christ Jesus, because of my coming to you again.

(Philippians 1.25-26)

Paul would have been content either to be convicted and executed—“to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better” (v23)—or to be acquitted and released—“to remain in the flesh,” which was probably better for the church (v24).  Trusting God to assure the outcome of his trial served the ends of Christ’s kingdom, he’d been sure his life would be preserved.  But his expectations for this imprisonment were different.  This time, he was sure he’d be convicted and executed.

Convicted of what, exactly?  There was no Roman law explicitly prohibiting Christianity, at the time.  However, this does not mean Rome was a bastion of religious tolerance!  The state recognized certain idols, and not others.  Rome generally opposed religious innovation.  They had their own tradition, and knew that every other culture in their empire had a different one.  Most were pantheistic, seeing gods almost literally under every rock and tree.  They figured out which gods were basically equivalent—Jupiter, Zeus, and Thor, for instance—and went about their lives in the knowledge they all worshiped the same gods, by different names.  New ideas and idols popped up from time to time, and until the state determined what to do with each new god, it was officially illegal to worship it.  Meanwhile, worship of the state-sanctioned idols was, to an extent, compulsory.

Rome was baffled by the Jews, when the two groups met in the first century BC.  They were staunchly monotheistic and, from the Roman perspective, a pain in the neck.  After the destruction of the Temple in AD 70, Rome  decided to allow this aberration,  provided the Jews each registered, and payed an annual tax.  In return, Rome would allow them to worship God, and to deny Rome’s pantheon.  But that solution had not yet been found, when Paul sat in prison, writing to Timothy.  Rome was still trying to figure out how to deal with the Jewish problem, and now found it had a Christian problem, too.

When Jesus came and established his own kingdom which transcends the kingdoms of men, Rome had a hard time distinguishing between Jews and Christians.  During the early years, Rome protected Christians from hostile Jews, thinking it was all an internal squabble!  This is visible during Paul’s first missionary journey in Acts 13.6-12, his second journey in 18.12-16, and his third, in 19.33-41.  When he came to Jerusalem afterward,

all the city was stirred up, and the people ran together. They seized Paul and dragged him out of the temple…. And as they were seeking to kill him, word came to the tribune of the cohort…. He at once took soldiers and centurions and ran down to them. And when they saw the tribune and the soldiers, they stopped beating Paul. …And when he came to the steps, he was actually carried by the soldiers because of the violence of the crowd…

(Acts 21.30-35)

But more and more Gentiles kept turning to Jesus, and that was a problem!  Rome began to see the Christians as even worse than the Jews; and the tide turned.  Paul was probably caught up in the persecution that followed a horrible fire at Rome in the year AD 64, which burned longer than a week and destroyed almost three-quarters of the city.  The populace, who’d just watched Emperor Nero turn from a pretty good ruler to self-serving lunatic, largely blamed Nero himself for the fire, saying that he’d started it to clear space for a new palace.  Nero needed a scapegoat, and he found in the Christians at Rome a class of people that could be easily turned into an object of great hatred.  The Roman historian Tacitus tells us about the creative methods of execution Nero devised, in an attempt to satisfy the people’s lust for blood.

As such, the verdict was predetermined, and Paul knew it.  How did he face his imminent death, in punishment for living righteously and preaching good news?

Luke alone is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry. Tychicus I have sent to Ephesus. When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, also the books, and above all the parchments.

(2 Timothy 4.11-13)

He kept working!  While he spared a thought for alleviating physical discomfort in his cold cell, his main concern was for the continuing ministry of the gospel of Jesus Christ!  In the face of death, he closed his letter:

The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed and bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

(2 Timothy 4.18)

This is a striking example of how to endure persecution for the name of Christ.  He could have railed against the injustice, or whined over his misfortune, or turned against God for failing to protect him.  Instead, we see in Paul a genuine trust in God’s promise, and a serene diligence to run, not crawl across the finish line.  We should all be so faithful.

Jeremy Nettles

And 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)

The German composer Johann Sebastian Bach got an early dose of grief, when his mother died.  Sebastian was only nine years old at the time, but he didn’t have long to come to terms with that loss, before his father also died, eight months later.  Despite being an orphan, he managed to achieve some small success with his musical abilities—although nothing like the rockstar status he holds in hoity toity circles today.  He got married and had a couple of kids, and then disaster struck again.  When he was 28 years old, his wife bore a set of twins, both of whom died within a few weeks of birth.

In the following year, 1714, he composed and directed a musical performance centered on the theme of suffering, following Jesus’ example, and finding sanctification through sharing in Christ’s trials.  The basic text was provided to him and not a product of his own imagining; but the music he wrote to go with it was evocative, opening mournfully to the words, “weeping, wailing, mourning, despairing.”  Considering the grief he’d suffered, it’s tough to imagine him writing this work without his own losses in mind. 

Its body grew from 1 Peter 2.19, “For this is a gracious thing, when, mindful of God, one endures sorrows while suffering unjustly.”  It encouraged Christians to suffer as Christ suffered, echoing the apostles’ words, “that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God” (Ac 14.22).  The work closed with a triumphant assertion, taken from an even older hymn by Samuel Rodigast, “What God Does, Is Done Well.”  This was, in turn, based on a snippet of Moses’ song for Israel:

“The Rock, his work is perfect…”

(Deuteronomy 32.4)

Taken on its own, this seems like a trite and unhelpful observation about God’s creation, but that’s not the point!  The idea is that, as Paul told us in the words quoted above, “for those who love God all things work together for good,” including our suffering! 

It’s tough for us to imagine how our pain and sorrow could be good.  But in fact, that’s not what the Scripture said!  Rather, it said everything works together for good.  Or, as Peter also wrote above, it is “a gracious thing” to endure unjust suffering.  The suffering itself may be unjust!  But it can be redeemed and turned toward God’s purposes, if we endure it patiently, looking to Jesus, who suffered more—and more unjustly—than we can imagine.  It is oddly comforting to recognizing that God’s plans do not involve our escaping all the miseries of this world.  We see this in Job’s attitude toward the deaths of his ten children:

Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshiped. And he said, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

(Job 1.20-21)

We see it also in David’s reaction to the death of the child conceived in sin with Bathsheba:

And David said to his servants, “Is the child dead?” They said, “He is dead.” Then David arose from the earth and washed and anointed himself and changed his clothes. And he went into the house of the Lord and worshiped. He then went to his own house. And when he asked, they set food before him, and he ate. Then his servants said to him, “What is this thing that you have done?” …He said, “While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept, for I said, ‘Who knows whether the Lord will be gracious to me, that the child may live?’ But now he is dead. Why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.”

(2Samuel 12.19-23)

But this is not license to ignore suffering, when we have the means to alleviate it!

But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him?

(1 John 3.17)

Rather, we are to accept trials, and learn to mold our expectations after God’s plans, and not our own, easily twisted sense of justice.

When Bach wrote his “Weeping, Wailing, Mourning, Despairing” cantata, he’d suffered more grief than most 29-year-olds.  But he was not done.  When he was 34, his seventh child died.  When he was 35, his wife died.  When he was 37, his brother died young.  When he was 41, his eighth child died.  At 42 he lost his twelfth child; at 43 his tenth, as well as a close friend and benefactor, and a sister. At 44, he lost his fourteenth child, and at 47, his fifteenth.  Both his thirteenth and seventeenth children died, when he was 48.  And finally, when Bach was 54, his sixth child, now 24 years old, also died.  He fathered twenty children, and ten of them died in infancy or early childhood.  Another died a very young man, and let’s not forget about Bach’s parents, wife, brother, sister, and close friend, who all died far too young. 

In part, these losses shock us, because our modern lives are cushy, and early death was more common in the 18^th century. Yet this was an astonishing degree of bereavement, even by the standards of the time!  What is striking, though, is that Bach brought out the old hymn, “What God Does, Is Done Well,” building portions of it into seven more of his musical works, each time soon after a period of bereavement.  We should all be ready to endure suffering and grief, while giving glory to God, and patiently waiting to see how he will use our pain, for our good.

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.

(Romans 8.18)

Jeremy Nettles

Remind them of these things, and charge them before God not to quarrel about words, which does no good, but only ruins the hearers. Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth. But avoid irreverent babble, for it will lead people into more and more ungodliness, and their talk will spread like gangrene.

(2 Timothy 2.14-17)

In Timothy’s day, there were many people presenting as God’s word what was really their own mistaken opinion.  Not much has changed!  Then, as now, even the efforts by those who preached the truth too often descended into “irreverent babble.”  When two people disagree about God’s will or word, both usually cite supporting Scriptures; but neither is convinced, and out of a desire to justify themselves, they pull apart each other’s cherry-picked verses, often resorting to redefining words in common use.  There are today a wide variety of resources for Bible study, including complete translations, as well as supplemental materials.  Much—perhaps most—of it is garbage, but that still leaves an enormous amount that is excellent, albeit imperfect.  This blessing is turned into a curse, when we use them inappropriately. 

For example, self-taught novices or M.Div-holding ministry professionals who once took two “Beginner” courses on Greek and Hebrew, anoint themselves as experts and proceed to lecture the world about the true meaning of the Bible in its original languages, on the basis of false etymologies, uncommon definitions, and motivated readings.  Worse, people who beforehand were perfectly content to read the Bible in a decent translation and exercise their own rationality in interpreting it while giving a healthy dose of deference to the wisdom of the ages, end up believing the nonsense, out of novelty bias or misplaced trust in someone who seems to know what he’s talking about.  But we’re not supposed do this!  “Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God” (1Jn 4.1). 

These resources are wonderful blessings!  But they must all be handled with discernment.  You probably know to be careful even about trusting a do-it-yourself instructional video on the internet.  How much more care should you take, in determining whether to trust someone’s interpretation of God’s word?  A handful of observations can help you decide.

Results

Paul said the false teachings “ruin” (2Ti 2.14) the people who receive them—will spreading them bring different results?  No, it “will lead people into more and more ungodliness” (v16).  Is the teacher’s own life a shambles? 

Expertise

“Choose for your tribes wise, understanding, and experienced men, and I will appoint them as your heads” (De 1.13).  Is there reason to trust claims the teacher makes, if you can’t verify them directly?  Is he missing something that would go without saying, for an actual expert?

Reactions

“The one who states his case first seems right, until the other comes and examines him” (Pr 18.17).  Do other, reasonable people take the idea seriously?  What objections do they raise?  Are their concerns valid?

Marketing

Writing about false prophets, Peter warned, “in their greed they will exploit you with false words” (2Pe 2.3).  Is the teacher trying to sell you something?  If so, it doesn’t necessarily mean his teaching is false; but it’s a factor.

Reasoning

“If one gives an answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame” (Pr 18.13).  To what does the teacher appeal?  Does he make naked assertions, or well-crafted arguments?  Are his premises sound?  Do they actually lead to the proposed conclusion, or are they merely backfill to shore up a pre-existing conclusion?

Consensus

“Where there is no guidance, a people falls,

but in an abundance of counselors there is safety” (Pr 11.14).  Do a variety of independent teachers agree on the point in question, or is it just one oddball?  Being odd doesn’t make him wrong; but why haven’t other, seemingly sincere and rational teachers reached the same conclusion?

Violence

“Do not move the ancient landmark that your fathers have set” (Pr 22.28).  It’s a mistake to use a jackhammer for a job a screwdriver will do, and you should be wary of Biblical interpretations whose effects cascade down to require that you drastically alter your understanding of the surrounding context, gut 50 other passages of their plain meaning, or fracture an entire worldview that seemed to hold together, previously.  If you were wrong about those other things before, then some violence needs to be done!  But be very careful to avoid tearing down things that were put in place for good reason!

§

None of these factors outweighs all the others, or on its own validates or discredits a Biblical interpretation.  But when you take them all into account, you’ll have a strong basis for accepting or rejecting the teaching and moving on, rather than getting bogged down in the sort of distracting mumbo-jumbo arguments Paul told Timothy to avoid.  Then, rather than engaging in pointless arguing, you can focus on your own sanctification.

Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work.

(2 Timothy 2.21)

Jeremy Nettles

But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.

(Hebrews 12.22-24)

In the 12^th century AD a French Benedictine monk, Bernard of Cluny, wrote a long poem in Latin, entitled De contemptu mundi—“On Contempt for the World.”  In it, he mocked the sins and failings he saw, both in the world and in the religious establishment.  Writing satire, he exaggerated the moral degradation in order to make his point; but the substance of his accusations and observations served to demonstrate the universality of sin and the corruption of the world, even among those who professed to be God’s people.  But his goal was not simply to tear down the present age; rather, he wished to draw a contrast between the despicable state of the world, and the perfection of heaven.  In 1851, Anglican priest Jason M. Neale published his translation of this section of the poem into English verse.  Several popular hymns grew out of this effort, including the most enduring, Jerusalem the Golden.  It begins:

Jerusalem the golden,

        with milk and honey blest,

beneath thy contemplation

        sink heart and soul oppressed.

I know not, O I know not

        what joys await us there,

what radiancy of glory,

        what light beyond compare.

Most of this hymn is composed of lines from Scripture, supplemented with brief commentary.  John’s Revelation ends with a vision of “the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God” (21.10), whose elaborate description includes the detail that “the city was pure gold, like clear glass” (v18).  The very next line continues the comparison to the earthly Jerusalem, invoking God’s oft-repeated promise to lead Israel into “a land flowing with milk and honey” (e.g. Ex 3.8), which is symbolic of the rest that awaits his people now (He 4.6-11).

Yet, despite the abundant promises and occasional descriptions of heaven, we must acknowledge that we’re only glimpsing the faintest hint of its true form, and even that is a stretch for our meager imagination!  John’s description above, that the city was made entirely of “pure gold, like clear glass” should be enough to clue us in—gold, you will note, is not typically transparent.  These images are symbolic representations, for us to picture in our feeble minds, and wonder.  Yet we recognize that “now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face” (1Co 13.12).

They stand, those halls of Zion,

        all jubilant with song,

and bright with many an angel,

        and all the martyr throng;

the Prince is ever in them,

        the daylight is serene:

the pastures of the blessed

        are decked in glorious sheen.

Again, these lines draw from Revelation.  Chapter 7 describes “a great multitude” (v9) of those “coming out of the great tribulation” (v14) including those who died for their faith, who “are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his temple” (v15).  In chapter 14, those who wear the seal of God sing “a new song before the throne” (v3).  As for the Prince, he is Jesus, and he shines like the sun for the whole city:

And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb. By its light will the nations walk, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it, and its gates will never be shut by day—and there will be no night there.

(Revelation 21.23-25)

The hymn continues:

There is the throne of David,

        and there, from care released,

the shout of them that triumph,

        the song of them that feast;

and they, who with their Leader,

        have conquered in the fight,

forever and forever

        are clad in robes of white.

God had repeatedly promised to set the Messiah on David’s throne, and Gabriel reiterated this to Mary, when he notified her that she would give birth to God’s Son: “And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David” (Lk 1.32).  Of course, the physical throne of David was long gone by this point; and Jesus never occupied the political position of monarch, in the way so many of the Jews expected of the Messiah.  David’s throne is in heaven, where Jesus “sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high” (He 1.3), after completing his mission and returning to his home triumphant.

O sweet and blessed country,

        when shall I see thy face?

O sweet and blessed country,

        when shall I win thy grace?

Exult, O dust and ashes,

        the Lord shall by thy part:

His only, His forever

        thou shalt be, and thou art.

The hymn closes by stepping back to take in the whole scene, in our mind’s eye.  Even in our insufficient imagination, the contrast between this contemptible world and the actual presence of God cannot be overstated!  How wonderful it is, that the Almighty and righteous Father of all creation cares for such sinful beings as we, who are “but dust and ashes” before him (Ge 18.27)!  At present, our lot is to serve the Lord in this corrupted world; but he has allowed us, like Moses, to peer across the river into the promised land, gazing from afar on the rest that awaits us.  Let us hold fast to that hope, and pursue its fulfillment with endurance, clarity, and focus!

Jeremy Nettles