Thursday 10 June 2010

The way God sees us




God sees you not as you are
but as it is the intention that you become. 


“Thou shalt also be a crown of beauty in the hand of Jehovah,
and a royal diadem in the hand of thy God.” (Isa 62:3 ASV)


Dutch version / Nederlandse versie > Zoals God ons ziet

Zoals God ons ziet


God ziet u niet zoals u bent
maar zoals het de bedoeling is dat u wordt.

“U zal ook een sierlijke kroon zijn
in de hand van Jehovah,
en een koninklijke diadeem in de hand van uw God.”
(Jeaja 62:3)


Engelse versie / English version  > The way God sees us

Separation from God in death, the antithesis of life


"My God, My God, Why Have You Forsaken Me?"

We know the passages that describe death in the Old Testament. It is sleep (Dan 12:2). It is total unconsciousness (Eccl 9:5). Death is the antithesis of life.
But there is something else of the greatest importance that was central to the thinking of faithful men like David and Hezekiah:
"My soul also is greatly troubled. But you, O LORD — how long? Turn, O LORD, deliver my life; save me for the sake of your steadfast love. For in death there is no remembrance of you; in Sheol who will give you praise?" (Psa 6:3-5).
"Do you work wonders for the dead? Do the departed rise up to praise you? Selah Is your steadfast love declared in the grave, or your faithfulness in Abaddon? Are your wonders known in the darkness, or your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?" (Psa 88:10-12).
"O LORD, by these things men live, and in all these is the life of my spirit. Oh restore me to health and make me live! Behold, it was for my welfare that I had great bitterness; but in love you have delivered my life from the pit of destruction, for you have cast all my sins behind your back. For Sheol does not thank you; death does not praise you; those who go down to the pit do not hope for your faithfulness. The living, the living, he thanks you, as I do this day; the father makes known to the children your faithfulness" (Isa 38:16-19).
Death completely separates man from fellowship with God. For the faithful man or woman, this is the worst possible thing that could happen. Nothing is of greater consequence. Fellowship with God is the essence of life itself.
Life derives all its meaning from our relationship with God.
The faithful man or woman, for whom fellowship with God is life’s greatest joy, shrinks from anything that severs this holy relationship. Death is an enemy indeed.
No one knew this better than the Lord Jesus Christ. His life was fellowship with the Father in a degree that we can only try to contemplate. He walked with his Father every moment of every day. And His Father walked with him. It was an earnest of the eternal joy that God set before him.
Jesus knew, of course, that he must die to put away the sin of the world. He knew that the grave would not hold him; that he must rise to life again. But this did not diminish the full awfulness of death that loomed before his face.
His words as he entered Gethsemane were an echo of Psalm 6:
"Then he said to them, ‘My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch with me.’
And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, ‘My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will’ " (Matt 26:38,39).
May I suggest that the cup that Jesus prayed might pass from him was not just the cup of physical suffering? It was the bitter cup of death that would separate him from his Father and his God.
Where now would be his remembrance of God? Where now would be his life of praise? Could not God transfigure him, as He had once done on the holy mount, and give him immortality without the horror of even a moment’s separation between them?
Do not holy men and women think this way?
Then the ninth hour of the next day drew near: the hour of his death on the cross, the end. Jesus must have felt the last vestiges of life slipping from him:
"And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ " (Matt 27:46).
Why have you abandoned me to this end? You are everything to me, even life itself!
Is it not possible that this cry of Jesus simply expressed the anguish of his soul as the darkness that had settled over the land turned into the reality of his death? Heaven must have cried, too. God derives no pleasure from the death of a sinner, let alone the death of the righteous man.
In Psalm 22, the opening words of which anticipated the anguish of Jesus’ soul, the immediate context is separation from God:
"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer, and by night, but I find no rest" (vv 1,2).
In David’s case, the experience was some living death when he had sought but received no help from God; when he had prayed but gotten no answer. For Jesus, it was about to become the complete separation of death itself.
How thankful we can be that reassurance follows. God has saved the faithful before. He will do it again. He will yet be enthroned on the living praises of His people:
"Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel. In you our fathers trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them. To you they cried and were rescued; in you they trusted and were not put to shame" (Psa 22:3-5).
God is now forever enthroned in the praises of the Son whom He delivered from the darkness of death. But for a little while their fellowship was severed. The separation of the Father and the Son by his death was a tragedy of the ages. It was not because of anything he had done. Our sins made it happen. Hear his cry from the cross and be ashamed. God forgive us!
Jim Harper (Meriden, CT)
The Christadelphian
TIDINGS
OF THE KINGDOM OF GOD

Be ye angry and sin not



"Be ye angery and sin not"

The Greek philosopher Epictetus said many years ago that "any person capable of angering you becomes your master; he can anger you only when you permit yourself to be disturbed by him."

When talking to my staff at work over the years, I often used Epictetus’ observation after a client had really upset them. I would tell them that no one can make you angry without your permission. One day a gentlemen came into my office, and we had a discussion with my door open, and they heard his conversation with me. Later, after he left, I walked out and they all looked up at me smiling and reminded me that no one can make you angry without your permission. I replied, "That is true and I just gave him permission." We all had a good laugh.

We are in control of our emotions, and we must control them if we hope to please our heavenly Father. Anger itself is not a sin. We are told that "God judgeth the righteous, and God is angry with the wicked every day." We know that God cannot sin, so His anger is righteous, His judgments are just, and it is right for Him to feel indignation over the failings of mankind. Our anger is not always justified, and often we sin when we react while we are angry.

We know that what made the Lord Jesus angry on many occasions was the hardness of the hearts of those he had come to save. In one instance, a man with a severely deformed hand was brought before Jesus by the authorities who hoped to use the man’s deformity to discredit Jesus. Mark tells us, "And when he had looked round about on them with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts, he saith unto the man, Stretch forth thine hand. And he stretched it out: and his hand was restored whole as the other." Jesus was angry but he did not sin. We need to take care not to sin when we are angry.
What should we do when we begin to feel the flush that anger brings, when our heartbeat quickens and our temper rises? We must take immediate action to take control of ourselves, and many times the action to take is to retreat and not respond. Back away, turn around, bite the tongue, but do not react. It is when we respond too quickly to the anger that fills us that we use inappropriate words and excessive actions that are sinful.

We can do something in anger that cannot be undone. They tell the story of Alexander the Great who in a fit of anger grabbed his spear and threw it at his best friend. It hit a vital spot and the friend fell down dead. Overcome with grief, Alexander fell on the dead body weeping, bitterly regretting not having controlled his fit of anger. We know that King Saul many times cast his spear at David as he was playing the harp trying to soothe Saul’s feelings of depression. In a moment of anger, Saul even attacked his own son, Jonathan, with a javelin. Fortunately the LORD was protecting David and Jonathan and they were able to escape the fate of Alexander’s best friend.

When angry, we can say things that hurt, we can act in a very un-Christlike way, and sadly, we can do it towards those we love the most. We need to learn to be in control of our emotions. While anger is not a sin, we must be very careful that we do not react in anger and sin in the process. We must be in control of our emotions at all times. We need to plan how to bring our emotions under control when we feel anger.

There is a story about a time when Abraham Lincoln’s secretary of war, Edwin Stanton, was accused of inappropriate actions by a general. Lincoln suggested that Stanton respond by writing the general a letter. When Stanton finished the letter, he showed it to Lincoln who praised him for the strong, direct language he used in the letter. "What are you going to do with it?" Lincoln asked. "Send it," Stanton replied. Lincoln shook his head. "You don’t want to send that letter," he said. "Put it in the stove. That’s what I do when I have written a letter while I am angry. It’s a good letter and you had a good time writing it and feel better. Now, burn it, and write another."

Abraham Lincoln’s method for avoiding an angry knee-jerk reaction was to write a letter, which gives cooling off time and a chance to plan a more balanced response. It has been said, Speak when you are angry and you will give the best speech you will ever regret. Rather than blurting out our thoughts, we need to walk away from a situation when we’re angry, count to ten, take some deep breaths, and perhaps write a letter so that we don’t react hastily and sin. Usually, as Lincoln found, that letter written in anger should never be sent. We should rip it up and then rewrite it to soften our language, remembering as Solomon tells us, "A soft answer turneth away wrath." So often the actions we contemplate when angry are actions we would later regret if we acted on them.

We can read in the book of James how to control our emotions by listening more and slowing down our reactions: "My dear friends, you should be quick to listen and slow to speak or to get angry." Let us keep in mind this good advice, and remember the words of Paul who tells us, "Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath".
Robert J. Lloyd

The Christadelphian
TIDINGS
OF THE KINGDOM OF GOD
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