Yesterday, I preached week 2 of our sermon series called “The Freedom of Grace.” In part, we looked at Galatians 2:11-14 where Paul calls Peter out for his hypocrisy. Peter was sharing meals with the Gentiles until the Jews showed up and Peter pulled away. Paul recognized that Peter’s actions were inconsistent with the Gospel and had led many astray, so he called him out publicly.

Paul’s exact words in verse 11 are, “…I opposed him to his face because he stood condemned.” Paul didn’t call Peter out because he was offended (though he may have been), or because he wanted to prove a point, or because he was trying to get the heat off himself and onto Peter. Paul called him out because he saw that Peter was not living in a manner worthy of the Gospel (see Philippians 1:27). This is such a timely message for us in our culture of outrage.

Somewhere along the line, we have gotten this false notion that we are called to condemn others for their actions if we think they are in the wrong. But if someone is in sin, they are already condemned.

Side note: we are not talking about eternal condemnation (see Romans 8:1). We are talking about a believer who is not walking in fellowship with God because of unrepentant sin in their life.

Our calling is not to condemn but to rebuke and exhort in love with the ultimate goal of that person’s repentance and restoration. Paul will later say in his letter to the Galatians: “Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted.” (Galatians 6:1) Are you picking up on the humility and gentleness that are required when calling a brother or sister out in their sin? Obviously, boldness is also a necessary component here, but I believe it looks a lot different than the outrage we often see around us.

The goal of our arguments often seems to be to prove that we are right rather than to see the Truth win out and Grace upheld. We feel accomplished if someone has realized their error and feels guilty about it and then we often leave them adrift in a sea of shame without actually pointing them back to the forgiving and restorative Grace of Jesus. In our efforts to ‘defend the truth’ we often hurt the testimony of Jesus because we are displaying ungodly anger and disunity with our fellow believers.

On the flip side of that, there are those who never address sin in the lives of their fellow believers for different reasons. That approach can be dangerous as well because left unchecked, it leads to all sorts of distortions of the Gospel. In both extremes, the Gospel is compromised which is why this is so important. We must be willing to speak the truth in love. Paul lays out the kind of Gospel unity that happens when we are willing to do this:

“Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love.”
Ephesians 4:15-16

Let us seek to continue building the body of Christ in love so that the Gospel can continue going forward.

I don’t know about you, but I have personally never made a New Year’s Resolution that I have been able to completely stick to. Actually, at this moment, I cannot even remember a single resolution that I’ve ever made. Part of that is because I don’t like doing things just because everyone else is doing them. The other reason is that I’ve always believed that true change comes far less in the big moments than the little moments. Let me explain.

New Year’s Resolutions are often about big things in your life that you want to change: diet, exercise, attitude, job, family, etc. We are thinking big picture with our resolutions when our lives are actually lived in small moments most often. For example, when you wake up in the morning, what’s the first thing you do? Check Facebook? Hit the snooze? Grab coffee? Scramble to get to work on time? How about how you spend your time when you get home from work? Are you focused on your family or just trying to make dinner, get the kids to bed, and prepare for another day? We usually aren’t taking these “small moment decisions” into account with our New Year’s Resolutions.

I am in no way saying we shouldn’t make them. I believe we should often look at the big picture of our lives and adjust the things that are lacking. I’m just suggesting that maybe the reason many of us struggle with sticking to them so much is that we are more focused on big moments that are few and far between than on the little moments that we spend most of our lives in. The apostle Paul put it this way:

“And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”
- Colossians 3:17

Those little moments that you take for granted because they happen everyday are actually moments that you can live for the glory of God. So make big resolutions and spend some time reflecting on the big picture of your life, and then strive to fulfill those resolutions in the small moments of your life. Better yet, don’t wait until each new year to strive for change. His mercies don’t wait until January 1st to renew - they are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-23).

Happy New Year to you all, and may God bless and keep you and your family this year.

Kenneth Boa writes:

Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn, known to the modern world simply as Rembrandt, knew of what he painted. One of the most famous artists in post-Reformation Europe, Rembrandt was raised in a devoutly Reformed home in Holland. By the age of 25, his portraits were among the most acclaimed in Holland. While he painted secular subjects as well as biblical ones, his art gradually became separated from other Protestant and Catholic painters who portrayed biblical and ecclesiastical scenes from an unrealistic, mythological perspective.

Rembrandt’s deep theological understanding of the helplessness of man before a holy God pushed him to paint realistically. His own wife and son, as well as street people and beggars, became his models for paintings with biblical themes. He went so far as to include himself as one of the enemies of God in his painting of The Raising of the Cross. He painted himself into this piece as one of those lifting the cross, helping to crucify his own Savior. The painful, sinful, and needy state of humanity—indeed, the state of his own condition—he refused to conceal.

Toward the end of his career, he was confronted even more with his own sinfulness. When his wealthy wife died, and he was threatened by her will from losing her estate if he remarried, he instead took a common-law wife, his housekeeper, and even bore a child with her. His immoral actions brought him into conflict with the Reformed Church in Amsterdam. This fact, plus financial difficulties ultimately ending in bankruptcy, again brought into stark relief his status of a sinner before God.

When Rembrandt painted one of his last great works in 1662, Return of the Prodigal Son, he painted his own confession of faith that prodigal sons of a heavenly Father can only find forgiveness and reconciliation under the gentle touch of his hand. When the father of the prodigal received the kneeling penitent in Rembrandt’s painting, Romans 5:8 was illustrated—“God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” If it takes a prodigal to paint a prodigal, it surely takes a returned prodigal to paint a reconciling father. While not everyone can apply paint to canvas with the skill of Rembrandt, our very lives are canvasses nonetheless. God would paint his reconciling message in us for all the world to see.

The peace of the prodigal son is ours in Christ. The reconciling love of the Father is ours to receive and share with others. May God help us to live in the benefits of his peace, and be ambassadors of his reconciliation to a yet-to-return prodigal world.

I did something this morning that I do not recommend to anyone reading this. I awoke at 5:00 AM, got dressed, left the house, and drove myself to a 5:30 AM workout. It’s just as horrible as it sounds. Heading to the workout, I was thinking to myself how much better I would feel if I had just stayed in bed. During the workout, I still didn’t want to be there and plotted ways to leave early. Somehow, I got through the workout and as soon as it was over, my immediate thought was, “I can’t wait to do this again tomorrow!” Before you think I’m weird, I can almost guarantee you that if I do actually wake up at 5:00 AM tomorrow, the cycle of emotions will repeat themselves again. It’s going to take months of consistency in this routine before I will be at a place of tolerating my own decision to put myself through this special kind of torture.

I was reminded this morning on my drive back home that our time in prayer and Scripture is often a very similar pattern. We somehow think that because we decided the night before that we were going to wake up at the crack of dawn to spend time with Jesus that everything will fall into place and we will have an almost euphoric quiet time. As if following Jesus didn’t require an incredible amount of discipline and consistency. None of us expect that after one workout we will all of sudden love working out. Neither do we think that our junk food cravings suddenly vanish after one salad at lunch. Why do we think that after one hour of personal devotions, we suddenly become a super Christian who can’t wait until that morning alarm disturbs our slumber so we can be with our Lord again?

Paul once said, “I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified” (1 Corinthians 9:27). It almost sounds like Paul was launching a CrossFit gym in the wilderness with that kind of language. But Paul understood what many of us seemingly don’t - the pursuit of holiness and the process of sanctification requires extreme patience and discipline. It does not happen overnight. But somewhere along the way as we maintain our gaze on Jesus (Hebrews 12:2) and continue “working out our salvation” (Philippians 2:12), we begin to see lasting results and true spiritual change.

I know this isn’t some revolutionary new idea, but I needed this short reminder in my own life today, so maybe you needed it too.

Hurricane Dorian made its landfall in The Bahamas on September 1st, 2019. I know that nothing I can say would offer any hope, healing, or answers to those who have quite literally lost everything. There is a simultaneous reality that even those who were not personally affected by the storm are searching for answers as to why something this tragic occurred - especially if we believe in a Good and Sovereign God.

But today, God brought to mind this passage from the end of Habakkuk:

“Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places.”
- Habakkuk 3:17-19

These words were inspired by the Holy Spirit and written by Habakkuk at a time of complete desolation in Judah. The crazy thing is, they didn’t have to wonder why God would allow such tragedy to come, because He told them that He was the One Who would bring it about on them. They were about to experience God’s judgement on them as a nation because of their disobedience and God was giving them that message through Habakkuk.

As Habakkuk waits on this destruction and judgement to come (Habakkuk 3:16), he pens the above verses.

These are at least some of the words I offer to those affected by Dorian and those wondering why this all has happened. I offer them because they are not my words, but God’s - through Habakkuk. In the face of certain devastation, Habakkuk worships. His joy and strength are found in the Lord, not his circumstances or even the explanation of those circumstances. He is able to stand not on his strength, but the Lord’s.

Habakkuk’s response to everything being taken away? Yet I Will Rejoice. Not in my circumstances, but in my God. I do not say that lightly or with any thought that it will be easy to do or even cause your circumstances to be different. I have personally been processing the fact that if Dorian had veered just 50 miles south, I could be facing the loss of just about every single person in my family. Had Dorian made a slightly different turn, my own home, possessions, and life would have been in danger. I have asked myself what my response would be in those times. And I have prayed (with much emotion) that my response would be similar to Habakkuk’s.

I’m praying the same for you as I pray for the recovery and rebuilding of my home country. These are not my only prayers or thoughts in this situation, but they have been at the forefront of my mind today.