Krissi

Why do you think there was so much strong opposition to Paul’s ministry in Thessalonica? Why do you think Paul keeps preaching the gospel, even though there is often a violent reaction against him? Does a violent reaction to our ministry necessarily mean we should stop? --- Any Christian pushing forward, doing God's will, evangelizing and making converts will run up against extreme persecution. Even personal growth in Christ causes persecution. It's a rule -- ground taken, either within or without, causes Satan and His armies to strike against a Christian. It's a zero-sum game. Ground taken is ground denied to Satan. So Paul's ministry in Thessalonica must have been effectively taking ground from Satan. People were believing. Lives were changed. When Satan strikes back to retake the ground he's lost, he is often very brutal. Violence results. Christians may even be martyred. Paul seems to have understood this dynamic. He knew that Christ within him is stronger than anything outside of him or Satan. He knew he was doing God's will. His personal faith was so strong that he knew how to interpret the persecution as Satan's push-back. In the end, though, Paul was martyred. He died brutally ... God willed his death. He let Paul succumb to Satan's violence. God sometimes intervenes by sending His army, angels, to assist us in our battle with Satan. Other times, He lets Satan win and harm us. Paul was beaten brutally many times before his death, was hungry, exhausted and imprisoned. God willed this in Paul's life (otherwise, God would have changed his circumstances). So, we cannot conclude that God expects us to always win -- even with His help -- against Satan. We must NEVER conclude that the presence of violence means we should change direction or even stop. If God wants us to stop, he'll find another way to let us know. Violence and persecution are always the reaction of the enemy, not God.

This is profound. Thank you, Niyonka16. Sheep are dumb as well as sensitive. Their dumbness saves them from over-thinking the shepherd's commands and their sensitivity, as Niyonka describes, compels them to seek acceptance and love from the flock as well as from God Himself. We have difficulty knowing God's voice, not because we're so stupid, but because we're NOT stupid. Also, we have difficulty hearing His voice because our emotional needs are so layered and protected that we no longer feel what used to be obvious. We also have difficulty hearing His voice because God speaks softly. Divine mumbles. I don't know why God doesn't just direct us clearly, handing us an instruction sheet or map, but He chooses to be obscure with us. I do not think this is always our fault. Most of the time, in fact, we'd love to obey Him if we only knew what He wanted! We go astray because He lets us do so, then. He has something to teach us beyond our obedience. "Lord, speak clearly now. Comfort me with clear words and gestures. Show me what I'm to do and say. Be with me in a way that I can FEEL your presence. I want to feel Your love, Jesus. I want to know You as a loving and good God, a gentle Father willing to guide me through what remains of my life." Amen.

There seems to be a human tendency to go in one of two extremes: first, to be legalistic, rigid and judgmental; second, to throw away all custom and wisdom of the past. The first is to cling to the past; the second is to immanetize the future. At every time of history, one chooses a place on the continuum between clinging the the past and jettisoning it. God has a right place. Sometimes, as during the reformation, getting rid of the past is what He commanded -- other times, the church is on autopilot waiting for His commands. It's all right.

Perhaps the idea behind these parables is the simple one that from small beginnings, incremental progress can yield great results. In secular terms, it's the story of the tortoise and the hare. The slow, plodding, methodical patience of the tortoise wins over the showy forward-jumps of the hare. Incrementalism is always discouraging. Signs of progress are barely visible and, at least in my case, it's hard to believe that change is really occurring. In the promise of the kingdom of God's manifestation, it's difficult not to look around and say to myself, "things are going the wrong way ... getting worse, not better." And yet, God promises that all of the loose threads will be rewoven back into the rope moving forward. As I age, I realize the importance of WAITING. Just waiting. Not doing anything but trusting God. It's a hard lesson.

I was hoping you'd ask a question about the kernel of wheat! There's a wonderful biblical commentator, Selwyn Hughes, who makes a big deal out of the phrase, "out of death comes life." (I hope I got it correct). Anyway, In the parable of the binding of the strong man, the strong man is Jesus Himself. He's also the stronger warrior. The bible is plumped full of militaristic imagery which I suppose made sense at that time and probably does now as well. What I see in this parable is two warriors facing off -- Jesus and Satan. It's obvious Jesus is going to win, but He still has to overwhelm Satan, which he did on the cross. The demonic orders -- which I do not know -- are logically below (in strength) to the strongman. Thus, Jesus can set anyone, including demons, free. Of course this begs the issue of why he let a third of the angels fall, but I guess we'll have to live with that intellectual tension as we'll never know the answer. I have never doubted Jesus' ability to set me and others free but I do lose traction at the statement that He will always set people free ... also, what that means. If you're in prison, will Jesus set you free? If you're trapped somewhere, can you count on Jesus to come get you? Jesus isn't like calling AAA for a free tow. He's God. He chooses to set some free and others not. So, yes, He has the power for our deliverance ... and no, we can't count on being delivered.

How do the bread and wine remind us of Jesus' sacrifice for our sins? In what way, when we partake of the Lord's Supper, do we “proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Corinthians 11:26)? The bread and wine re-present a sacrifice. Jesus had been that sacrifice. His body and blood had been sacrificed for our sins just as, in the Old Testament, a lamb or other animal was sacrificed. Jesus was the last sacrifice. Henceforth, we remember what He had done, but do not need to do it again. I disagree with my denomination (Anglican) and agree with Pastor Ralph about the representative nature of the eucharist. When we take the bread and wine, we do so as a solemn recollection of an event that happened two thousand years ago, the death of Jesus. We also recall His resurrection and how Jesus' death marked the end of eternal death for those who believe, that is, forgiveness of sin. Jesus wanted to make His upcoming death the center of our thinking and believing before He died. The eucharist is one way that the death of Jesus becomes central in our thought -- we "recall" and "reenact" the death of Jesus with the body and blood ... the bread and wine. I do wonder if the bread and wine are graphic enough to recall the horror of what happened and the subsequent glory of the resurrection. At times, it seems a bit sanitized. Yet for those who know God's story as told in the Bible, the eucharist can have great meaning. Proclaiming, in this case, involves physically reenacting a ritual that symbolizes His death so that the meaning of His death can be made clearer, both to us and to secular individuals. I very much like this description by Elizabeth. The bread represents Jesus' health and divine life, she writes. I never thought of it this way and appreciate this comment.

While thinking about this parable I visualized an older woman struggling to thread a needle because she could not see the little slot through which the thread must go. The idea in my mind was difficulty not impossibility. But Pastor Ralph says that the image should be of impossibility -- something more along the line of a needle without a slot. Yes, the parable has to do with Jesus being the only way. Nothing will get through that slot, if it exists, but Jesus. Secular people still think they can thread the needle if they try hard enough and adjust the light ... but it won't work. It's just human nature to try to fix our own problems, to thrive in a harsh world. We tend to think we can/should make things happen. But salvation isn't within our ability or strength. This is a needle we'll never be able to thread. Salvation is impossible, in part, because we don't even know what it is until we've been saved. It's information that comes to us retrospectively. We're called ... we respond dumbly, and then we grow in our knowledge of what happened. Within the Spirit's prompting -- without, perhaps, God plucking us out of the mire -- we would not even seek to be saved. Nothing we do would be good enough. Young Martin Luther, in his early days as a monk, realized just this, that his works and incessant confessions would never cover his sins. He was hopelessly corrupted by sin. His only hope was grace. God's grace. "No one comes to the Father except through me."

I just realized that this is the last lesson for 2 Corinthians. I'm very sad to end this. Both the 1 and 2 Corinthians were a huge blessing to me and I want to thank you, Pastor Ralph, for providing these lessons. Yours is a wonderful ministry, Sir. K

I have spent a lot of time in Europe, particularly France, where kissing (faire la bise) is a secular greeting, though increasingly the French are shaking hands, like the English. I admit I found it uncomfortable, at first, but grew to like it. There's something about air-kissing another woman's cheeks that suggests familiarity. I feel less comfortable kissing Euro men, even today. Perhaps we're missing something by not greeting each other with a hug or kiss in church? To make a kiss-greeting natural, we'd have to go through some cultural changes. Handshakes are rather cold, even when accompanied with a pat on the shoulder because the distance between us remains the same as when we talk to each other. We never draw physically closer when we shake hands, which is exactly why we do it. I have mixed feelings about greeters at church. The idea is good, but the practice is often awkward. I'm sure it could be improved, but don't know how. I have actually taken another door to avoid greeters I don't know -- confession. There's a natural closeness that comes when friends greet each other ... friends who have known each other for a long time. Or, family. But when a greeter at the door enthusiastically pumps my hand up and down, I pull back. It's instinctual. I think it's because such intimacy has to be developed over time, not forced or pretended.

Flowing or living water has to be opposed to tepid, stagnant water. One is life-giving, the other is life-threatening. Flowing water is always changing and moving. It's pure. Clean. Lovely. Living water symbolizes the continual work of the Spirit within us sanctifying us. The Spirit creates a thirst for Himself within us. We are called to Him and are not "naturally" inclined toward Him. He makes us "thirsty." Jesus promises to give us the SPirit, which is the flowing water within us. He promises that the flow will not stop -- unless we want it to. I think this is the same as growing closer to him daily, incrementally and without notice, as the flow ... flows.

Mr. LIghthouse, above, wrote a sad but instructive story. I watched a similar story evolve in a church I attended many years ago. A man who had had multiple affairs while traveling for his work had a child-obsessed wife who made no effort to grow as a person and was always clamoring for more ... a bigger house ... a second house ... stainless steel kitchen ... fancy cars, etc. In the end, knowledge of his multiple affairs grew too wide and undeniable for the church to ignore. He was brought up for church discipline at the same time his dull and dowdy wife was lauded as the perfect homemaker. He left the church and left the faith. Obviously, such affairs are sinful, but there was no charity or attempt on the part of the church to understand his circumstances. The church lost a man they could have gently shepherded back into the fold. Also, the church gained a woman whose blatant materialism and shallow outlook was ignored. I don't think church discipline works in dysfunctional congregations but only in those that are functional. Those who would benefit most from discipline seem not to get it, and when applied, it's blind to some sins while amplifying others. In theory, it's great but in practice it's less than effective. Perhaps in smaller, more love-filled congregations in which people know each other by more than name, discipline would work, but it would be informal, as would happen when one is concerned about another. A formal approach in a cold, large congregation is a recipe for disaster. -- Dysfunctional congregations rarely repair. Perhaps in some cases they do, but in my experience, dysfunctional congregations limp around for years, never quite gaining solid footing and then merge or die. It would be best, then, if the congregants in a congregation who disagree with the focus and morals of the congregation simply vote with their feet and leave. Starting a new congregation with new values and new voices would be much better, in the end, than trying to salvage a damaged church. I know that the working presumption on this site is that all churches must be saved ... but why? Why not let a church splinter into several subgroups, each starting their own little church. This may sound a bit Darwinian, but is not it a good thing when a dysfunctional church slowly withers and dies? Isn't it good to watch spiritually strong individuals go off to start a church? -- What would an approach of love look like? It would look like a functional congregation, not a dysfunctional one.

In what way is becoming a believer in Jesus similar to a second birth? When we are born again, the Spirit dwells in us. Prior to that, we were Spiritless. Being born again means being gifted with His Spirit within. What aspects of physical birth are analogous to spiritual birth that Jesus seeks to clarify with this analogy? It's a new beginning. Fresh start. And then, we mess it up! Hanks, upthread, mentioned that we have no control of either our physical or spiritual birth. I agree. Just as God chooses the eggs to fertilize out of all those that are wasted, he chooses those who are saved, out of the mass of people who die without Him. What about wind's characteristics are we to attribute to the Spirit? The Spirit is wind. The words are the same. Wind is invisible, yet felt. It can be subtle -- a gentle breeze -- as well as powerful -- a hurricane. God's Spirit is both. People who are born again have this "wind" in both forms. Though most of the time the Spirit is very subtle, I have read about people who have heard God's audible voice or experienced supernatural manifestations of the Spirit. I have not had this sort of experience, sadly. I'd like to know if it's possible to increase our awareness of the wind within us. And, I'd like to know if it is possible to increase the power of the wind within us.

What was the life-changing lesson that Paul learned from God when God denied his prayer? Well, first, that God doesn't always answer prayer to the affirmative. God does say "NO" to us regarding things that are good, for our benefit and not against the scripture; good things, that is. Paul could have been much healthier without the thorn -- we don't know -- but whatever the case, God saw to deny him healing. Second, Paul learned that in this case, God denied him for a reason, to make him dependent on Him and seek His grace. Only when Paul felt hopeless and powerless did he turn to God for the grace to endure the thorn. God empowered Paul to keep going. Paul was very aware of God's grace and power because of his thorn. -- How does self sufficiency limit God's power ...? This is one of the questions that I have never been able to answer. Obviously, God is all powerful and can do whatever He chooses to do without us yet chooses to use human instruments to accomplish His will. Most of the time, we have to do our part. The ability to obey and do for God is connected to our own human giftedness. This is why the gifts of the spirit are so difficult to discern; for some of us, our own giftedness gets in the way and we're unable to know what is "just" God and what is ourselves. Another way of putting this is we have abilities that make us sufficient in some areas. All of us do. This is why secular people don't roll over and die; they, too, are naturally gifted and have the capacity to be self-sufficient. But there's a kind of self-sufficiency that is different than just the ability to make it through the world successfully without God, and I'm having problems putting my finger on it. It may be pride. Hubris. But, it also may be just the ability to see a problem or a mountain and find a path through it ... without asking God for his strength and path. So -- I'm trying to get at the answer ... really !! -- perhaps what God requires of us is not weakness but humility. Though we can do it ourselves, we CHOOSE to submit to God by asking HIm for His answer and then forcing ourselves to sit on our hands and wait until God tells us what to do. Often, His plan is not the one we expected so we have to swallow our pride and do things that makes very little sense. This is no better, by the way, than the person who knows he cannot do the task before him, who has not the ability or vision to complete it, and is, then, completely dependent on God's grace and power. The Christian life is very leveling in this way. -- Can we become dependent upon God without having to experience some “thorn in the flesh” ourselves? First, Yes. That's what I was describing above, when a person who knows he can, by himself accomplish something instead chooses to submit to God's timing and direction. Furthermore, there are very blessed people who seem to have happy lives as Christians. They have good marriages, good health, good friends, etc., and STILL grow as Christians as exemplary faith-filled individuals. They have very little suffering in their lives. Second, No. Most of us suffer our way toward sanctification. Whether is by a thorn or something done to us, deserved or undeserved, we suffer greatly. That suffering, in itself, causes us to cry out to God for His grace and comfort. Suffering causes us to turn to Him in anger and desperation because only He can relieve us. Like Paul, many of us suffer unto death. God chooses to never relieve us from certain forms of pain and suffering. I'm sure you've seen unhealed Christians who are godly people, truly admirable, who suffer horrible or disfiguring physical ailments. There's an emotional parallel to this as well -- I have an unhealed friend who has been manic-depressive all her life and has suffered greatly from it -- others around her have suffered, too. In some cases, these unhealed people seem to suffer for a purpose, to develop kindness and character, love and patience. But there are those who become bitter and fall away from God. That's always tragic. All I know is that in my sad, little life, every spiritual growth spurt made has been precipitated by some sort of suffering.

The explanation or reason for the thorn in the flesh was to keep Paul humble, that is, to eliminate pride. He could have been proud because he -- alone? -- had been given insight and revelation into the nature and character of the kingdom of heaven. He was "caught up into paradise," which is a curious expression as well as a "surpassingly great revelation." (This leads me to wonder WHY it was such a big deal to God to keep Paul humble about a surpassing revelation ... why not let Paul tell everyone? It would be very inspirational? But Paul, for whatever reason, kept quiet.) Paul was never healed. I know many people who point to their own prayed-for ailments and use Paul as an explanation for their continued suffering. Paul said something beautiful about God, however, regarding his own suffering: His "grace was sufficient" and that "power is made perfect in weakness." I believe Paul was saying that God's grace somehow mitigated the pain of his suffering. It must not have done so physically, but spiritually or in his emotions and intellect. God's simple presence, perhaps, was enough to mitigate the pain of suffering, in Paul's telling. The part of this verse that fascinates me is Paul's statement that power is made perfect in weakness. This seems to be a theme in the bible and in the Christian life, that only when we're down and out, completely emptied of any ability to correct a situation, does God move. His power, then, is actuated by our felt weakness. -- I am very troubled by how God allows evil to be morphed into good. Much suffering seems unwarranted. Job, for instance, did not deserve or merit what happened to him, yet God let him suffer intensely. Yes, in the end, God "made good" out of it, but, frankly, God could have blessed Job without the horrors of that experience and I rather doubt it would have gone to Job's head. I'm certain, in retrospect, Job would have preferred to NOT have his family murdered and his own health compromised to receive the wealth that came to him afterward as recompense. Some things are never worth the cost. I've heard Christians claim that Job must have deserved it, that he had a "secret sin" or was so pride-filled that God had to smite him like this to humble him. Besides the fact that the bible says otherwise and that other people were killed (innocent collateral damage?) this seem like an explanation intended to excuse God. God's behavior has to be explained, not that of Job ... His seeming cruelty to an innocent man. Generations of innocent victims have pointed at Job and said to themselves, "Well, at least I'm not alone ..." Ditto with Joseph. At least Joseph comes off as an egoistic kid when his brothers sold him. But the story of Joseph gets worse as he gets more humble. Again, an innocent man is repeatedly put into jail, sold as a slave, treated poorly, etc. Since God is sovereign, couldn't he have figured out a way of maturing/humbling Joseph which didn't take so many years of his life and put him in such emotional/physical distress? Suffering always wants explanation though never seems to receive it. At bottom, it harkens the problem of evil ... theodicy. Saying that God makes evil into good begs the question of why he permitted it in the first place. It makes God into a responder and not an instigator/creator when Satan suggests and does and God either permits or denies. God should be in charge, not Satan! And if He is, then why all the horrible happenings that God-in-charge could have easily stopped? There are innocent sufferers, children who are raped or murdered, illness that strikes the most beautiful of people ... etc. To this day, innocent suffering persists. Why??? Paul's thorn does not answer these questions but rather aggravates them. God could have removed that thorn. God could have made certain that Paul remained humble in other, less painful ways. But He did not. He didn't just PERMIT suffering, He CAUSED it. And frankly, folks, I can't resolve the suffering I've experienced and seen with my strong desire to worship a dependable, good, gentle and loving God. Where, exactly, is God's grace in the suffering of a raped child?

Paul certainly suffered, but so do people who are not Christians, so this isn't enough to authenticate his claim to be an apostle. Also, had Paul NOT suffered, I don't think his apostleship would be in question -- I don't know, but think not. What authenticates an apostle, then? In part, an apostle knew Jesus when He was on earth for those three short years -- Paul claims that his experience after Damascus in the desert was the equivalent. But, again, many people knew Jesus but were not apostles, including many women. And some of these non-apostles also suffered greatly, often to death. The first martyr, Stephen, was not an apostle yet suffered unto death. I cannot explain what characterizes a genuine apostle. I'm sorry. -- Paul's sufferings show his devotion to the Corinthians. It's a sign of loyalty to give up something for someone else or the church, even health. Paul did not take from the Corinthians. He was no indebted personally or have any personal investment in them. He only gave. -- When I read about Paul, I am afraid. I fear the God who permitted such suffering in Paul's life because I don't understand it. Why is suffering such a central aspect of faith? Can I expect God to alleviate my pain, for example, when He did not alleviate that of Paul? Do I even have the standing to ask God to help me through suffering when, apparently, He willed it in the first place? These are some of the huge questions that this sort of undeserved and unmitigated suffering bring to light. It seems that the closer we get to Him, the more we suffer. The depth and length of trials increase, too. I admire Paul's determination and unshakeable faith in God even as God turned up the heat on him until his horrible death. I can see why Paul would brag about surviving the various trials God made him endure. I can see how this would authenticate him in the eyes of those who had suffered less. But I can't see how a good God wouldn't pull Paul away from the flames ... I can't see how a God of love would let him suffer so much. "Lord, help me understand this. It's becoming a huge road block in my faith. I don't trust you enough to suffer without questioning. I don't love you enough to see this as Your love. Amen."

I know I sound like a broken record, but again, the biography of George Mueller I finished reading a couple weeks ago so influenced me that I'm determined to pray silently for my needs, without asking others for help or even letting others know of my need. God alone provides when I have the faith to ask and believe. Mueller often was tested right up to the moment. He would pray that God would provision the orphanages with food and clothing/sundries for the kids and not get an answer. Suddenly, food would appear and the children would be fed. Perhaps they weren't given the best of food, but they were nourished. Mueller NEVER let anyone know about the financial needs in his ministry. He would pray privately. Even his employees, at the beginning, anyway, didn't know of the dire situation. Paul didn't take God's provision this literally. He let it be known to the congregation at Corinth that other congregations had supported him; he even seemingly bragged about privation and suffering want. He was able to support himself, but the bible rarely mentions Paul working, thus I wonder if most of his time was spent traveling and preaching/evangelizing/ministering, not tent-making. --- I believe, now, that I should honor the work of ALL Christians -- full-time or not -- by obeying the still, small voice within me that asks me to give out of need, not excess. This is how Christians should be supported and how those who are supported should regard those who support them. If I need something, I should go to God in prayer. Silently. Without involving others. Just me and God. I should tell Him, specifically, what is this need, and then wait for Him to answer the prayer and fill that need. My faith is thus increased in His answering of prayer. And, the need is met. Mueller would lay out his needs before God like a lawyer. He'd explain his needs, why he had those needs, why they were in line with the calling and purpose God had placed on him, and then ask God to meet the need. Again, I write as a failing and flailing sinner. My needs are great and faith often falters, but it appears that God expects me to come to Him first and perhaps only.

Pastor Ralph questions whether a congregation loses it's devotion to Christ, but not individuals. I don't know how to answer this. Obviously, individuals can lose their passion for the Lord, but can a church? Is the church's passion something different than the sum of individual passions? If a church squelches the Spirit thus causing it's members to lose their singleminded devotion for the Lord, then perhaps the congregation loses it's devotion to Him. But would there be not a remnant, a core group left? Would everyone, in concert, turn away? I hope not. I'm not being consistent, here. Though I think individuals lose their passion, not churches/groups, I also think that revivals/awakenings occur within groups (of individuals). Revival is the way a church regains it's passion for Jesus. Individuals can be revived, too, but revival is corporate. A revival occurs when the Holy Spirit instigates both the urge for revival as well as directs the revival itself. It is hard to figure out the mind of the Spirit! For years, people have been praying for various revivals that never manifested (that we know of). I personally have been praying for France, specifically Paris, to experience a revival so huge that it rocks the EU ... sadly, this hasn't happened. So we can't force the Spirit by begging and cajoling Him to work. We can "pray into His will" which means that God has already decided to effectuate a revival in a particular place; our role is to march behind His parade, the one led by the Spirit. And then there are times of revival when the Spirit seems to suddenly descend on a congregation or place ... to everyone's surprise. It seems that some sort of disaster prompts revival, at times, personal or corporate. War. Loss of a loved one. These horrible events in life cause people's eyes to refocus on the Lord. God uses if not directs these disasters in the lives of Christians. He wills, that is, our pain so we turn back to Him with purity of devotion. Revival is another way God causes us to turn back to Him.

There's nothing wrong with preparing logically to battle an enemy or support a fellow-believer(s), whether that enemy is within oneself or someone(s) else. Paul spent the first part of the Corinthian letter rationally laying out arguments and in the second part, he warned them of the consequences of not heeding his words. In this second part, Paul stretched the argument larger. He wasn't talking about intra-church squabbles and evil rumor mongering, but of the forces that prompted such behavior, Satanic forces. Yes, they can superficially correct many of the excesses and meannesses in the church, but to get at the root cause, they have to tackle Satan. This is spiritual warfare. Tacking Satan isn't a matter of logic but of prayer and decrees and wearing the "armor of God." Paul knows how to do this and is warning the Corinthian church that he WILL tackle Satan when he arrives again. He will pull down Satan's strongholds in the power of Jesus and speak articulately and boldly by the Spirit's power. As an apostle, he has been given power by God to accomplish his role or task. This, he threatens, HE WILL DO.

Generosity is so rare in our culture today that our giving, even to each other within families and the church, stands out. Giving is a testimony to a different way of looking at wealth -- we see it as something ephemeral and God-given, valuable only in how it helps our extended families and the church family. When we give unexpectedly, others notice, secular people, that is. Even secular people who have given away their own wealth, do so with different motives that do we. We give because we're commanded to give ... and because, in the best case scenario, we feel love for those to whom we're giving. We give without expecting anything in return: no name on a building, no praise from others, no sense of welling pride. As God freely gave to us in the death of Jesus His Son, we should freely give to others, perhaps to our own demise. Grace is free. It's not only unmerited, but when it gives, it never looks back. Secular giving looks back to see who noticed and to hear the applause -- Christian giving ignores self-inflating praise or hubris. In my wee opinion, both words 'surpassing' and 'indescrible' emphasize the noun that follows. They function as exclamation points.

Why didn't God rescue and deliver Polycarp and the other martyrs? That's a haunting question for in the time of our greatest peril, God may NOT preserve our lives. It's difficult to reconcile this with a God who supplies our every need while we're alive, a God who counts the hairs on our heads, who loves us with a boundless love ... but then lets us be murdered brutally??? To my little mind, this feels like God forsaking us. I know I'm not supposed to ask "why" but this terrifies me. Increasingly, Christians in the US are brought before hostile courts and governmental bureaucrats. I know of many people who have been, or still are, persecuted even though they have committed no crime. In many cases, they are persecuted for doing God's will in a particular circumstance, God's explicit will as laid out in scripture. So, the era of having a benign government is over, folks. What is now court-jail may soon end with the taking of our lives. Worldwide, Christians are greatly persecuted. Increasingly so. Thus martyrdom is more, not less, likely. I don't find this passage reassuring because I cannot resolve the idea that a good God lets His children be murdered. I know that pain and suffering are part of our fallen life ... but God can alleviate and deliver us if He so chooses. The conquering of which Paul writes must not refer to this life, but to the next one in the heavenly realms. Only in heaven can Christians conquer. But in heaven, there's nothing to conquer. No sin. No death. No evil. Again, God could, if He so chose, rescue and deliver us in this life as Paul was sprung from prison by the angels. But strong Christians such as Polycarp were NOT rescued by God, so this final act of His mercy cannot be depended upon. I don't know what to think. The God who supplies our needs, who promises to a generous giver that He'll be blessed, may choose to have us dismembered and painfully murdered? This doesn't make sense. Yes, having an unshakeable faith in the time of martyrdom is laudable and ultimately a gift of God, but how does this conquer? In the end, our murderers prevailed. We may "put on God's armor" and have legions of warring angels defending us, and still be murdered. "Lord, help me understand this. Help me see you as a GOOD God, one who cares for me as your child. Help me get over my overwhelming fears of abandonment in the moment of need, that You'll turn Your head from me and not hear my cries when I call to You. I want to believe You'll rescue and deliver me. I want to be bold and confident in Your mercy and love. I want to tenaciously fight the bullies and evil-doers in the government. I want to wield Your weapons of prayer and win ... not lose. Yes, Lord, heaven is the ultimate prize, but I want to know You care enough for me here, on earth, to not let me suffer a fate like Polycarp. Forgive my unbelief. Forgive my fears and lack of faith in your goodness. Amen."

I love these questions! They get at the crux of issues that have been bothering me for months. God gives some people more than they need. He does so so that they give it away. To those who have much, much is required, and in this case, generosity is required. The wealthy have a greater burden than the poor -- the burden of giving away that which they may want for themselves. They have to give it anonymously, generously and wisely. Here, however, it sounds like God will bless all generous believers with more than is needed. The key is being generous. The opposite of generosity is greed. Miserliness. The image of Scrooge counting his coins ... I'm getting to that later middle-age stage of life when my friends are all talking about their future retirement "nest eggs." What these passages suggest, however, is that we do NOT have these nest-eggs, but rather give them away in faith that God will provide for our needs AND multiply what we have. This requires a mature faith, which a mature-in-age person should have. It requires that we hold God to His promises to provide for us, minimally, as well as multiply our savings so we can give more away. Lighthouse2014 above quotes Luke: "for with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." I pray to use a big measure. I pray for great wealth to give away. I pray to be a blessing to others, including my own family but not exclusively so. I pray to not cling. To not be insecure. To step out in faith and trust God to supply my needs and more. "Lord, I have been a generous giver ... to my detriment. Yet, my needs have been taken care of. All of them. I pray, then, that you honor your promise to increase my store of seed so I can live simply and give more away. Give me more, Jesus, so I can give more. Fill my storehouse. Amen."

Pastors are constantly pressured to make a budget AND to give to missionaries and other worthy causes. A church that is barely paying it's bills is considered unsuccessful, though this could be God's will -- parishioners who cannot give more should be on their knees asking for His provision. If a church is enormously pressured to raise more cash, however, expenditures should be lowered. Many churches are in financial pinches because of building programs. Spiritual pride can be attached to a sprawling campus of new buildings. Every pastor seems to want this, at least in America. So they pressure or guilt those in the pews to pay for this visible sign of success. This is less greed than pride. There is a place for buildings. George Mueller of Bristol built huge dorms that served thousands of orphaned children -- obviously, these kids had to be housed, clothed, educated and fed in a building. But drive by almost any church in mid-week and you'll see empty parking lots. They may have a preschool or even a school during the week, which is VERY laudable, but many church buildings lay vacant and unused until Sunday. Is this right? I don't think so. It seems that churches with empty buildings should start Christian schools so that kids who are homeschooled can meet together for socializing, and kids who attend government schools can have the option of going to a Christian school. If church buildings were in constant use, if missionaries reported back with more detailed descriptions of their field of service, and if the worthy causes actually bore fruit, my hunch is the people in the pews would be far more "cheerful" about giving than they are now.

Paul’s statements are in the first-person plural – “us” or “us all” – which makes me hesitate, now, to Romans 8:31 as a personal promise. What did Christ give to every believer? Salvation. God did not protect every believer from those who were against them, as proven by the fact of the gruesome deaths of the apostles as well as Christians killed for their faith. Paul is saying that because we are saved, we have eternal life and the life in heaven is all that matters. What happens to us here – what our enemies do to us here – cannot take away our eternal security or our confidence that we’ll eventually be with Him in heaven. I have always interpreted this as God protecting me in this life, that He’d take pity on me and protect me from enemies. Now, I see this is wrong – God doesn’t promise to protect me from my enemies, but to save me from them … eventually. In heaven only will He graciously give me all things. Not on earth. I so wish this verse promised His protection right now for I could use it, but, well, it doesn’t. It’s a promise of heaven. An afterlife. Of being given all things after I’m dead, not while I’m alive. Because I had misinterpreted it in the past, this statement makes me feel vulnerable. My faith is intact and my salvation is assured, but I didn’t doubt this before. What I had hoped for, and read into this passage, was God’s protection on earth, in this life. Perhaps God will protect me (more) in the future – I don’t know – but He is not obligated by a clear scriptural promise to do so.

God's generous gift of salvation is available to us no matter how close to our deaths we may be -- though it's best not to put if off until the end, as we never know when that end will occur. My father, age 95, is on hospice now -- he has been an atheist all his life. Adamantly so, in fact. If he accepts the Lord in this late hour, he will be in the kingdom just as I am, even though I accepted the Lord at at much younger age and have struggled all my life to retain and grow my faith. In a sense, this isn't "fair," but it's the way God has ordered his kingdom and the afterlife. So, I have been praying for many years that my father accepts Jesus ... "just say "YES" dear daddy!!" I don't think my feeling of unfairness is caused by pride, but rather by the memory of how difficult the Christian life has been (at least for me) and how much I've struggled and suffered as a Christian. To see someone slip his nose under the tent at the last moment, never suffering or concerning himself with the things of God, does seem unfair -- I admit this. I know, however, that those of us who know Christ have not deserved or merited His love at any age. It's grace that opens the gate to heaven. Pure grace.

Actors and actresses can become the character they're acting -- I believe this is called "method acting." They study and emphasize with their character so fully that they actually become that person ... in their addled minds. What Christ does within us is the opposite. We don't strive to be like Christ, nor do we immerse ourselves in the text of the bible to such a degree that our own personalities are negated, but instead, the Spirit transforms us from within. Via the Spirit, we slowly and inexorably morph into a person who is more godly. This is what being conformed to the likeness of His son is all about. In practical terms, we obey the law, read the scripture and try to commune and communicate with God. yes, transformation involves our own obedience ... but that transformation is not the consequence of obedience. It is spiritual. It is done via spiritual means. Obedience is living into our destiny. Our destiny is the path God has for us to trod in this life. It's what we're doing. When we are obedient to the law and the inner voice of the Spirit, we are on that path.