Weekly Devotional from Pastor Michael

"What do you think? A man had two sons… Which of the two did his father's will?" (Matthew 21:28ff.)

Beloved,

This week we're in a single parable, and one that's quite familiar. Dad asks two sons to work in the vineyard. One says "No," but in the end goes to work anyway. The other says "Yes," but never gets around to it. When Jesus asks the Pharisees which one obeyed, they answer, "The first one." Jesus applies that answer to the Pharisees. But the question we want to know is how does it apply to us.

A parable is usually a short story, grounded in the real world, told in such a way as to provoke the audience about a spiritual point. Every grown adult listening to this parable would have been familiar with the situation Jesus described. When it comes to obedience, talk is cheap (the title of Dan's sermon); what counts is action. The Pharisees would not have disagreed.

So what makes the parable provocative to Pharisees? After all, the Pharisees prided themselves on their obedience to God. They were careful to tithe; careful to maintain religious purity; careful to honor the Sabbath. The disobedient people in Israel were obvious. All you had to do was observe the lives of tax collectors and prostitutes to see that they had no regard for God's law.

Jesus doesn't disagree. Tax collectors and prostitutes are disobedient to God. Their lives have been one giant No. They've lied, cheated, and engaged in immorality. On the other hand, the Pharisees have not only said Yes, they've followed through. They've done their best to keep the law. And yet, Jesus makes clear that the tax collectors and prostitutes are the ones who obeyed, while the Pharisees are the ones who ultimately disobeyed.

Jesus wants the Pharisees to realize that their lives of careful, even scrupulous religious obedience counts for nothing if, in the end, they reject the call to repent, trusting in their own obedience instead. This was the message that John the Baptist came preaching, which Jesus mentions. "The way of righteousness," the way of being in a right relationship with God, isn't through confidence in your religious duties or your comparative ethical and moral superiority, but through repentance and trust in God's Messiah. The tax collectors and prostitutes understood that, and they flocked to Jesus. The Pharisees didn't understand that, and in the end are judged for it.

It's tempting for all of us to trust in the wrong things. We trust that we're right with God because we're in the right. We trust that we're right with God because we're better than others. We trust that we're right with God because we don't do certain things that "sinners" do. But the way of righteousness is never through our own righteousness; it's always through trusting God's word. His word calls us to repent, to turn away from trusting in ourselves. Talk is cheap; obedience is what counts. But the obedience God desires is the obedience of faith in the only righteous One, Jesus Christ.

Trusting in Christ's righteousness along with you,
Your pastor,
Michael

Weekly Devotional from Pastor Michael

Beloved,

Be gracious to me, Lord, for I am weak; heal me, Lord, for my bones are shaking; my whole being is shaken with terror. (Psalm 6:2-3)

There are so many things that can cause us fear. Right now at the top of the list is the coronavirus, and not far behind is unemployment and financial insecurity. David describes his whole being as shaking in terror, but he doesn't tell us why. It's possible that he's ill, since the word "weak" in v. 2 could be translated "sick with fever." But whether his sense of vulnerability and frailty comes from illness or opposition or something else entirely, he reminds us what to do when we are afraid. David turns to the Lord. "Turn Lord! Rescue me; save me because of your faithful love." (Ps. 6:4)

Our basic instinct when we're afraid is either "fight or flight." It's hard-wired into us. Most of the time what makes us afraid is not a pandemic or some other existential threat, but you might not be able to tell from our response. We get angry and lash out with hurtful words when our independence is curtailed or our desires are thwarted. We withdraw emotionally if our feelings or self-esteem is hurt. We grow defensive at correction, or even instruction. None of these situations place us in peril of death, as it seems David was in. And yet "fight or flight" kicks in all the same. At these moments, it's not our physical safety that's in danger. Rather, it's our sense of personal safety.

All of us walk around with an image of ourselves - of who we are or at least who we want to be and how we want to be perceived. That image might be one of competence, or independence, or intelligence. It might be a virtuous self-image, like "kind" or "selfless." It might be a social self-image, like "leader" or "teacher." There are as many self-images as there are people, complex and multi-faceted. But all of these "self's" are vulnerable and easily threatened, because none of them are entirely true. As sinful human beings, we create for ourselves false images that give us an identity that we can boast in apart from God. And since these self-images are vulnerable, we defend them in fear, lest they be revealed as the fiction they really are, and people see us for who and what we are.

In Psalm 6, David shows us a better way. Rather than fight or flight in the face of fear, he turns to the Lord. We are made in God's image. As Christians we are being recreated and conformed to the image of Christ. Our true identity isn't self-made. It's divinely wrought. And we can trust the Lord to defend his own image in us. But that involves finding our identity in his image, and giving up those of our own creation.

These days there are lots of reasons to fear the vulnerability of our self-images - sickness that threatens our sense of invincibility; isolation that threatens our social identities; economic challenges that threaten our professional and materialistic identities. But nothing we face right now threatens our identity in Christ or our dignity as creatures made in the imago Dei. It cannot be touched by a virus, or loneliness, or a pink slip. And so neither fight nor flight are needed. Only trust. As Paul reminds us, 

"Who can separate us from the love of Christ? Can affliction, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, 'Because of you we are being put to death all day long; we are counted as sheep to be slaughtered.' No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us." (Rom 8:35-37)

Secure in Christ with you,
Your pastor,
Michael

Weekly Devotional from Pastor Michael

Beloved,

If there's one thing that can cause conflict in a family, it's the feeling that promises have been made, and then broken. Perhaps you have younger kids in your house who've protested this week, "But you promised." Or older kids who've debated with you about precisely what was said or not said. Or maybe you've had that conversation with your spouse or housemate. Regardless of the relationship, the issue is the same. We count on promises. We set our expectations, make our plans, and even make promises to others, based on the promises (real or perceived) that have been made to us. And when those promises (real or perceived) are broken, the disappointments are real. More than that, trust is compromised and character is impugned.

If that's true in our families, it's also true with God. We count on God keeping his promises. We hold him to even higher standards than we hold our parents our spouses. So it's important to ask, what promises has God made us? Hosea 14:4 gives us three promises that in many ways sum up all of God's promises to his people.

I will heal their apostasy, I will freely love them, for my anger will have turned from him. (Hosea 14:4)

First, God promises to heal our apostasy. In common parlance, apostasy is the repudiation of belief. But in the Bible, apostasy is repudiation of a relationship. It's treachery, faithlessness, and it's not an intellectual doubt so much as it is a spiritual and personal corruption. We abandon God because we're in love with ourselves. Our hearts are warped and turned in on themselves. We all have spiritual heart disease, and it's killing us. But in the gospel, God promises to heal our hearts. This is the language of irresistible grace. There is no disease, not even our diseased hearts, that is immune to the Great Physician's work. Like a heart surgeon, he removes our diseased hearts and gives us new ones. Jesus called it being born again, or regeneration. These new hearts are in love with God, turned outward toward him, beating with the life that comes from God himself.

Second, God promises to freely love us. Most of the time, the love that we give and the love that we receive from each other comes with strings attached, even if we don't mean to. Our love is conditional - on how we feel that day, on whether we got a good night's sleep, on whether we feel we've been treated as we ought. At its best, our love is conditioned on our fickle feelings. At its worst, our love is conditioned on what we get out of it. But in the gospel, God promises to freely love us. This is the language of unconditional election. His love is not coerced. It's not transactional. He's not in it for what he can get out of it. He simply chooses to love, and having made that choice he follows through with it completely. God doesn't choose people to tolerate, or to include in his circle of influence, or to add to his collection. He chooses people to love them with a love that knows no limits.

Third, God promises to turn his anger away from us. We are often justified in our anger when promises are broken. The reality is that when it comes to God, we're the promise breakers in the relationship, not him. We've broken the promise implicit in our creation - that we were made to live for him. We've broken the promise implied by our guilty consciences - that we owe him our obedience. We've broken the promise made in our professions of faith - that we will follow him. God is justified in his wrath. But in the gospel, God promises to turn his wrath away from us. This is the language of our definite atonement. Jesus' death on the cross was propitiatory, which is a fancy word that means he turned aside God's wrath toward you by satisfying it for you. Jesus' death on the cross didn't potentially reconcile you with God, it accomplished that reconciliation. As the hymnist marveled, "Guilty, vile, and helpless we, / Spotless Lamb of God was he; /  Full atonement - can it be? / Hallelujah! What a Savior!"

This is what God has promised us in the gospel - regeneration, adoption, justification. And he has kept those promises fully in Jesus Christ - choosing us unconditionally in Christ, extending his grace irresistibly through Christ, and reconciling us to himself fully by Christ. We have no cause to be angry, and every reason to be thankful, because God has kept every promise he's made to us.

It's easy right now to begin to think that God hasn't kept his promises. That graduation celebration we were looking forward to isn't going to happen. The plans we put in place for this summer aren't going to work out. Hopes for internships, jobs, and relationships are dashed. Jobs have been furloughed or terminated. And we fear even worse. Maybe someone we love will get sick, or even die. Maybe a dream for the future seems destroyed, rather than merely delayed. And in that disappointment and fear, we're tempted to believe that God isn't keeping his promises.

God never promised us those things. He didn't promise that our plans would work out, our dreams and desires come true. He never promised us that our life would be free of worry, or disappointment, or sorrow. Instead, he made us a better promise - a promise of regenerating, electing, atoning love that he has kept fully in Christ. Come what may, don't be angry at God for breaking promises he never made. Rejoice, because God has kept the promise he need not have made, but freely did.

Counting on his promise with you,
Your pastor,
Michael

Weekly Devotional from Pastor Michael

Beloved,

We have a lot of questions these days. And very few answers. But in the midst of our questions, two rhetorical questions from Hosea 13:14 offer hope. 

I will ransom them from the power of Sheol / I will redeem them from death. / Death, where are your barbs? / Sheol, where is your sting? / Compassion is hidden from my eyes.

Read in isolation, this is a verse to carry us through difficult days (especially if we conveniently ignore the final clause). But Hosea didn't write this in isolation, and when we read it in context, God's promise of rescue and taunt of death raises more questions. Questions like, "Where did that come from?" It seems like a non sequitur from the previous verses which promised merciless judgment. And, "What's up with the last line?" Afterall, it seems contrary to the rest of the verse.

The answer to both questions comes in the footnote of the CSB and several other translations. Those first two statements, "I will ransom…/ I will redeem … " could just as easily be translated "Should I ransom…/ Should I redeem… ?" There is ambiguity, not in the words, but in the grammar and syntax. When the first two lines are taken as rhetorical questions, the second two lines are not rhetorical taunts, but divine summons for death to come and do its terrible work. The final line is no longer a confusing contradiction of what came before, but a devastating conclusion. There will be no compassion for Israel, no rescue from the Lord. Samaria will fall; exile, death and devastation will come.

It's hard to remove the one bright spot of hope from the dark prophecy of judgment that is Hosea 12-13. But perhaps that's the point. There is no hope, no mercy, no compassion, if all we have to offer is our own repentance. Even if we were to change completely going forward, our present obedience cannot make up for our past disobedience. Today's faith is no excuse for yesterday's unbelief. 

We need more than our repentance, more than our own efforts. We can't clean ourselves up enough to avoid judgment or earn our way back into God's favor. We need the perfect righteousness of a perfect sacrifice and mediator. We need Jesus Christ. His obedience was not deficient in any point. His faith was not lacking even once. His death, therefore, is fully substitutionary. His mediation is sufficient and acceptable. Nothing less will do. Nothing more is needed.

The apostle Paul understood this. And so, in 1 Cor 15:54-55, Paul recognized that Jesus changed the syntax (not the words) of Hosea 13:14. The question had been answered once and for all in the affirmative. Jesus is God's "Yes" to the questions "Should I ransom them? Should I redeem them?" In fact, they were no longer questions at all, but emphatic declarations in Christ. And therefore the rhetorical summons to death and Sheol had been transformed into mocking taunts. "Where death is your victory? Where, death, is your sting?" Nowhere. Death's apparent victory had been overturned, death's sting removed.

In this one example, we have the entire relationship between the Old and New Testaments. At the end of the OT, all we have are questions, and the apparent answers are grim. But in the NT, Jesus provides the definitive answer to all of those questions, and the answers in him and through him are Yes and Amen! (2 Cor. 1:20)

These days there are lots of questions swirling around. When will things get back to normal? Will anyone I know get sick? Will I lose my job? When will I get paid again? What's going to change and what will be the same after the pandemic ends? The fact is, we don't know the answers to those questions. But we know the answer to the most important questions. Will God redeem? Will he ransom? Will he show compassion to people like us? Yes, yes, and a thousand times yes. Jesus has answered that question once and for all, and knowing that question is answered, we can trust him with our unanswered questions. In fact we can answer our questioning hearts with better questions.

If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? (Rom 8:31-32, ESV)

Resting with you in the better questions,
your pastor,

Michael

A devotional from Pastor Michael

Dear ones,

It’s only been two weeks, but social distancing is wearing on the soul. Even the introverts among us are longing for more human interaction. It’s brought home what we always knew - “It’s not good for the man to be alone” (Gen. 2:18). We thrive in the presence of others. It’s one of the reasons Hosea 11:9 caught my attention. God describes himself not just as “the Holy One,” but as “the Holy One among you.” He’s calling attention not just to his character, but to his presence.

The presence of God is one of the major storylines of the Bible. We were created to enjoy his presence, but sin cuts us off. When Adam and Eve hear God walking in the garden in Gen. 3, they hide, knowing that to be sinful in God’s presence is to die. And yet, God does not destroy them. Judgment is rendered; death will reign. But mercy is extended. They no longer have God's visible presence, but a promise is spoken (Gen 3:15), and through that word, God's saving presence is introduced.

As the story unfolds, God's saving presence is central to his people's safety in a world under God's curse. Noah and his family are kept safe in the ark, a floating temple (Gen 6:16; 7:2,16). God tells Abraham, "I am your shield" (Gen 15:1). At Mt Sinai, God tells Moses, "You've seen... how I carried you on eagles' wings and brought you to myself" (Ex. 19:4), and then gives instructions for a Tabernacle "so that I may dwell among them" (Ex. 25:8).

But like Adam, Israel rebels in the desert and God declares that he will not go with them into the Promised Land, lest he destroy them (Ex 33:3). But Moses intercedes and God is gracious: "My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest." His presence will distinguish them among the nations (Ex 33:14-16).

From then on, God's people are protected by God's presence, symbolized first by the Tabernacle and then by the Temple. This is why the destruction of the Temple at the fall of Jerusalem was so traumatic. It’s not that they lost their building for worship services. It represented the departure of God (Ezk. 10-11). The judgment of Exodus 33 had finally fallen. Even when the temple was rebuilt, God’s presence was not there. God's glory did not descend as it had on Solomon's temple (Ez. 6:16-22).

And so it remained - God's people without God's presence - until Jesus appeared and "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us." (John 1:14) Through his presence he accomplished our salvation. And through the Holy Spirit he continues to protect his people. "Remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age" (Mat 28:20).

In this season of social distancing, God is not distant. His presence is our peace and our protection. We’re used to experiencing that corporately as we gather. We feel it's absence, and no longer take it for granted. But though we cannot meet, we are not alone. God is still present with us in his Word (Heb 1:2; 4:12-13). Are you spending time with him there? He is present in our prayers (Rev. 8:4). Are you making more time for him there?He is present through the Spirit (1 Cor 6:19). Are you walking with him there?

The Triune God is present in the life of the believer. He will hold us fast. He will keep us safe for eternity. He will be with us always, just as promised. In the fearful insecurity and anxiety of these days, you have not been left as an orphan, alone in a cruel world. Your Savior is "the Holy One among you." Lean into him, because it's in his presence that we find our rest.

Stay safe in his presence. 

Your pastor,
Michael

A devotional from Pastor Michael

We live in a fundamentally moral universe.

At least since Newton's Third Law - for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction - we've understood that the physical universe is governed by cause and effect. But that holds true far beyond the merely physical. It applies to the moral and spiritual as well. Hosea declares: "Indeed, they sow the wind and reap the whirlwind." (Hos 8:7) "You have plowed wickedness and reaped injustice." (Hos. 10:13) It's a basic idea that runs throughout the Scripture - we reap what we sow.

Of course, none of us like that idea. We don't want to take responsibility for the harvest that is the sum of our life. We want to shift the blame to others, to circumstances, to society, to our family and friends. In fact, we want to shift the blame to anyone or anything except ourselves. And no doubt, external things contribute, and things beyond our control do affect us. But at the end of the day, we reap what we sow. It's as immutable a law as Newton's Third.

This is why Hosea invites us to plant new seeds and reap a new harvest. "Sow righteousness for yourselves and reap faithful love; break up your unplowed ground. It is time to seek the Lord until he comes and sends righteousness on you like the rain." (Hos. 10:12) The good news of the gospel is not only that Jesus Christ forgives us and rescues us from judgment - the harvest we deserve to reap for the seeds of sin we planted - he also gives us new hearts and new and better seeds to sow. No matter our past harvests, in Christ in this life we have the opportunity to plant new seeds and to reap better harvests than the ones we've reaped in the past.

Change is possible, not just inside us, but in the relationships around us. Righteousness is not simply rule-keeping, it's being in right relationship, both with God and neighbor. We can sow relationships that are characterized by justice and mercy, that is seeking to do right by others and extending mercy when right is not done to you.

What does sowing righteousness look like when:

• you're cooped up with your kids who are off school for weeks on end?

• you're working from home and Netflix or Hulu or porn beckons?

• your spouse is anxious over the virus, or not anxious enough?

• your hours at work are reduced, or you're laid off and money is tight? 

• the crowds at Costco or FM or Safeway are large and tempers flare?

• disappointment over canceled plans and disrupted lives overwhelms?

The seeds of fear, anxiety, selfishness, and unbelief will be in abundant supply in the days ahead, and the temptation to plant them will be great. But in Christ, we've been given new seeds - seeds of patience, self-control, compassion, faith, mercy, and hope. Plant those seeds, and you will reap a harvest of faithful love.

Your pastor,
Michael