​The more we grow spiritually, the more we desire to please God; but how do we most effectively do that?  The New Testament mentions a number of ways in which we should please God – that we cannot please him without faith (Hebrews 10:38), without “walking in the Spirit” (Romans 8:8), etc. But in his letter to the Colossians, the apostle Paul makes a statement that summarizes the many answers to that question (Colossians 1:9-12).  Paul tells us he prayed that believers “… may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way…” (vs. 10, emphasis added), and he then follows this thought by speaking of four specific ways that, taken together, please God in “every way.”

Paul’s statement is almost startling in both its reach and its simplicity. No other passage in the New Testament claims to tell us how to be completely pleasing to God, so we should look very closely at the characteristics the apostle tells us fulfill this goal.  The four things are:

1. Bearing fruit in every good work (vs. 10). Paul makes it clear throughout his epistles that although good works do not save us, God expects us to produce good works as a result of being saved (Titus 3:8, 14, etc.).  Throughout the New Testament the expression “good works” primarily refers to works done to help others (Hebrews 13:16, etc.), but it also includes our obedience to God (1 Thessalonians 4:1, Hebrews 13:20-21, etc.). We should also notice Paul’s stress in Colossians 1 is not that “some” good works will please God, but that we are urged to “every good work” – to as many good works as possible! 

2. Growing in the knowledge of God (vs. 10).  Paul next cites our ongoing growing in the knowledge of God and his ways as being central to our ability to please God. It is only as we come to know God that we can learn to properly love, fear, trust, and obey him (Psalm 147:11). Knowledge itself is of no use without application (1 Corinthians 13:1-2), but growing in knowledge can enable us to better grow in good works (2 Timothy 3:16-17).

The first two points  Paul gives for how to please God correspond directly with the apostle Peter’s summary admonition that we should “…grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Peter 3:18, emphasis added). Paul also stresses these same two characteristics elsewhere in his writing (Philippians 1:9), but in Colossians 1 he goes further to add two more points that we need in order to fully please God:

3. Being strengthened by God (vs. 11).  This is not strength for its own sake, of course, rather  “… that you may have great endurance and patience” (Colossians 1:11, Ephesians 3:16, etc.). Given what Paul says in this verse, there is no question that this strengthening is actually something God must do in us: “being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might,” yet we must make this possible by asking God’s help and trusting him in faith to supply his strength. In that sense, this characteristic includes the quality of faith itself, as the basis of our strength, endurance and patience (Hebrews 11:6).

4. Giving thanks to God (vs. 12). The final characteristic that Paul tells us is pleasing to God is deep gratitude on our part: “… giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light.” In fact, thankfulness is a theme to which the apostle returns numerous times in this short epistle (Colossians 2:7; 3:15, 17; 4:2) – in this way reinforcing our understanding of its importance in God’s eyes.

So Paul’s four summary characteristics of believers who truly please God are not what many of us might guess. Humanly, we might suppose that never-failing obedience, great sacrifice, frequent or long periods of prayer, or any number of other things that relate to our own lives might be what please God. But Paul’s four characteristics do not focus on our lives – they are all primarily outward looking toward others and God himself.    
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Perhaps we should not be surprised that the things Paul says greatly please God are all expressions of our love for others and love for God.  That is basic enough, but the four specific characteristics Paul enumerates are worthy of our careful study – if we want to please God, they are among the highest goals for which we can aim.

Every Christian knows Jesus’ words that his followers were to be the “salt of the earth” and the “light of the world” (Matthew 5:13-16).  Being the light of the world seems easy to understand – it clearly involves the responsibility to “illuminate” the world through the witness of our lives and, of course, to reflect the light of the God who himself can be described as “Light.”

​But what about the salt – what exactly does that represent?  Salt was used for many different purposes in the Middle East during the 1st century, so there are a number of possibilities regarding what Jesus intended. We should consider all of the most likely meanings.

1. Perhaps the most obvious possibility is that Jesus’ reference to our being “salt” has to do with the use of salt as a flavor enhancer (Job 6:6) –  that we are to make the world more pleasing or “palatable” to God (Romans 8:8).

2. Salt was also widely used to preserve food, especially meat which would spoil quickly in the heat of the Palestinian desert environment.   The sense of long-lasting preservation is seen in the biblical expression “a covenant of salt” (2 Chronicles 13:5).

3. Salt was utilized to purify things such as offerings made in the tabernacle or temple (Leviticus 2:13).  This is the meaning behind Jesus’ words “For everyone will be salted with fire ...” (Mark 9:49) and Paul’s words “Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt” (Colossians 4:6).

4. On the other hand, the ability of large quantities of salt to kill vegetation and render land unusable led to salt being used metaphorically for the concept of emptiness and destruction (Job 39:6, Ezekiel 16:4, etc.). 

5. Despite the fact that large quantities of salt kill all plants, much smaller quantities were used as the world’s oldest chemical fertilizer.  In fact, after vegetation has been killed by a heavy application of salt, the plants often eventually come back more profusely.  Because the word “earth” in Jesus’ expression “you are the salt of the earth” can mean “soil,” some commentators feel that he may have meant his followers were to bring new life to the world, like a little salt to soil; but the likelihood of this meaning is certainly unsure in this context. 

6. Ancient peoples also often put salt on the wicks of oil lamps to cut smoke and increase their brightness.  This meaning seems attractive as the use of salt in this sense would then be parallel with light, in believers being both “salt and light.”  But in Jesus’ words in Matthew 5:13-16, salt is discussed before light is mentioned, indicating he probably had a more common use of salt in mind.

Many other meanings have been claimed for Jesus’ words based on other uses or characteristics of salt. For example, some have claimed that just like salt, believers can make the world thirsty for God’s truth.  But this and similar ideas are somewhat fanciful and would not have been understandable in the context of what Jesus said without explanation. Likewise, it is commonly thought that Roman soldiers were paid in salt (hence the word “salary”), so that salt might have been a symbol of the disciples’ “worth,” but in fact the Empire’s soldiers were paid in normal money (or not at all), but not with salt.

Because Jesus did not explain which aspect of salt he intended in using the metaphor, we must presume that he had the most basic aspect in mind, which would mean that either or both meanings 1 and 3 above – salt as a flavor enhancer or a purifier – are most likely what he had in mind and how his hearers would have understood the expression. Understood in either of these ways, being the “salt” of the earth would certainly mean that we represent the world to God, just as in being the light of the world we represent God to humanity (Matthew 5:16).

But Jesus’ words also hold some practical aspects in his use of salt as a metaphor. After saying “you are the salt of the earth,” Jesus proceeded to say “But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men” (Matthew 5:13). This is interesting as salt cannot actually lose its saltiness unless it is diluted by water or mixed with other substances. Salt spoiled in such a way might often have simply been thrown out on the street, and it is also possible that such low grade salt was spread on Roman roads to inhibit vegetation growth. In either case it would be “trampled by men,” but the lesson would be that our belief and behavior must not be diluted by things of the world around us.

There is another way that spiritually we might lose our “saltiness.”  Jesus also told his disciples “Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can you make it salty again? Have salt among yourselves, and be at peace with each other” (Mark 9:50, emphasis added). This suggests that our saltiness can be lost through a lack of peace with one another, and that we may cease to fulfill our function of making the world more acceptable to God by our “saltiness” either being diluted, as we saw above, or by not living peaceably with others.   These obstacles to successful discipleship are both worth thinking about.  

​Luke 24 tells the story, set shortly after the death of Jesus,  of the two disciples walking on the road to the village of Emmaus several miles from Jerusalem.  As they walked they were joined by a third individual (vv. 15-16).

The stranger asked them what they were talking about and they replied:  “About Jesus of Nazareth  …. He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people.  The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him;  but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel ...” (vv. 19-21).

The stranger joined the conversation, and the three individuals talked until they came to Emmaus.  Once there the two disciples urged the stranger to stay the evening with them and join their meal.  So, Luke tells us the stranger accepted and: “When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them.  Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight” (vv. 31-32).

Reading the story from our perspective, with hindsight, we realize immediately that the stranger was, of course, Jesus, but something that we often neglect to think much about in this story is the fact that the two disciples were unaware that the One of whom they spoke was in fact the person with whom they spoke.  The two disciples had actually been talking about the person who was with them.  If that had happened to us, that we discovered someone we talked about had been the person involved – would we have wondered afterwards what we had said, wondered about any negative or critical things that might have been part of our conversation?
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If we believe the simple Christian truth that Christ lives his life in each called and committed individual, does the principle not apply that whenever we talk to a fellow believer – or about a fellow believer – we are talking with Christ whether we realize it or not? It is the principle behind the related situation Jesus described in saying “For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them” (Matthew 18:20). It is something to remember.  In that small way, we are all walking the road to Emmaus.

One of the most notable traits of the Gospel of Mark is its immediacy. In Mark things happen now – or sooner!  We see this from the beginning of the Gospel in the way important events are described. Mark tells us that at the onset of Jesus’ ministry “At once the Spirit sent him out into the wilderness” (Mark 1:12). Without delay he called his disciples (1:18); they immediately followed him (1:18, 20); news about him spread quickly over the whole region of Galilee (1:28).

The pattern continues throughout the Gospel.  The Greek word eutheos, translated "immediately,” “straight away,” “at once,” etc. occurs no fewer than forty-two times in Mark and frequently colors the narrative.  This and other terms of time give a preciseness and immediacy to important events and also to everyday actions. When Mark tells us regarding Jesus and his disciples that “As soon as they left the synagogue they …” (1:29), he conveys a sense of pressing dedication to what they were doing.  When he tells us of the man healed by Christ: “immediately the leprosy left him” (1:42), we see the power that effected not an eventual but an immediate change.

And it is not just Jesus and the disciples that act with speed. Often the agents of evil do also. When John the Baptist is imprisoned, Salome’s daughter doesn’t just ask for the head of John – she asks for it “right now” (Mark 6:25). Mark paints a verbal picture of a cosmos in which good and evil are completely dedicated to their goals and the battle between them is being fought not in some past or potential future, but constantly in the here and now.

Why does Mark’s Gospel differ from the other three portraits of Jesus in this way?  To a large extent, it may have been the result of Mark’s audience. Most scholars believe that the primary original audience for Mark’s Gospel was a Roman one. There is plenty of internal evidence – such as the frequent use of Latin terms (for example, denarius in 12:15, quadrans in 12:42, praetorium in 15:16, and flagellare in 15:15) and details such as Mark’s use of the Roman system of dividing the night into four watches instead of the Jewish system of three divisions (Mark 6:48, 13:35) – to suggest this is true.
  
Mark’s Roman audience lived in a somewhat different world than the largely quiet and pastoral Judea. Romans were used to a faster pace of life enabled by straight Roman roads, organized commerce and efficient messenger systems.  In the Roman world, if something was important it would usually be done quickly – and something done quickly was often likely to be important.

But to only see the immediacy of Mark’s account as a product of Roman attitudes and expectations is to miss the point that Mark, like all the Gospels, speaks to a situation that goes beyond this world’s political and social realities – to the underlying spiritual reality of the story he tells.  Mark’s use of constantly active narrative showing the dedication and non-stop work of Jesus, along with his frequent use of the “historical present tense,” gives every reader of this Gospel a sense of a story that is occurring in the present – a story that includes continual pointers to the need for dedication and an attitude of urgency in doing the work of God. 

​Mark is a Gospel of now and his story challenges us to live out our part in God’s calling not in dwelling on events of the past or plans for the future, but in doing what we have been given to do, now.​

When we read the parables of Jesus in the New Testament, it is easy to presume that the occurrences of a given parable in different Gospels are just parallel accounts of the same event – a retelling of the same story. But this is not always true, as Jesus sometimes used the same parables and examples in teaching different groups at different times. 

There are clear instances of this, and we find a particularly meaningful example in the Parable of the Lamp (often called the Parable of the Candle and the Bushel) found in all three Synoptic Gospels – Matthew, Mark, and Luke. These three Gospels each record this same parable, but Matthew’s account, for example, shows a different setting to that of Mark and Luke.  In each case the parable is varied somewhat, and the lesson being given appears to have a different stress.

Essentially the parable discusses a lamp placed in one of three settings:  on a lamp stand, under a bed, or under a jar or bowl. But we should notice how the three accounts differ and the lessons they convey.

The Lamp on a Stand – the Lesson in Matthew:

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.  Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house” (Matthew 5:14-15).

Matthew’s account does not include the “bed” mentioned in Mark and Luke because its stress is on the lamp being placed on a stand so all can see its light.  We see this stress in the extra words – unique to Matthew’s Gospel – which compare the lamp on a stand to a city on a hill (vs. 14). The lesson in this telling of the parable is made clear: “In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (vs. 16).  Matthew addresses those whose light shines like a lamp on a stand.

The Lamp under a Bed – the Lesson in Mark:

Mark’s account introduces another way the light can be treated: “…Do you bring in a lamp to put it under a bowl or a bed? Instead, don’t you put it on its stand?” (Mark 4: 21).  The “bed” (Greek klinē – a small couch or bed) Christ mentions  was a piece of furniture high enough to allow a small oil lamp to be placed beneath it, but low enough to limit the amount of light that would be visible. 

This telling of the parable seems to focus on the aspect of limited illumination – symbolic of a person who gives out a limited amount of the light at his or her disposal.  This limited light may help those close to the person, but that is all because the light is being held back.  Perhaps we see this in the warning found in Mark’s account: “Consider carefully what you hear … With the measure you use, it will be measured to you—and even more” (Mark 4:24).

Mark’s version of the parable speaks especially to those who limit their light: those who choose to be “low key” Christians in ways such as only sharing their light with others of the Faith – those “near” to them.
 
The Lamp under a Jar – the Lesson in Luke:

Luke’s version of this parable may have yet another stress: “No one after lighting a lamp covers it with a jar …” (Luke 8:16 ESV).  While some translations have “basket,” the Greek word skeuos indicates a ceramic jar, bowl or other container used to hold flour – not an open weave basket.  The meaning is important because placing an oil lamp under such a solid container not only stops all light from escaping, but also cuts off the air, causing the light to eventually go out.

This last fact makes Jesus’ words spoken at the end of the parable particularly significant: “Whoever has will be given more; whoever does not have, even what they think they have will be taken from them” (Luke 8:18).   Luke’s version of the parable seems to speak to those who receive the light, but whose religion is “personal” and they do not share the light they have with others “so that those who come in [from the outside] can see the light” (vs. 16, parenthetical comment added).  

Three Tellings – Three Lessons

So Jesus’ Parable of the Lamp is recorded for us in three versions, each with a different stress.  While the parable seems to have been used on separate occasions, it is clear from the details recorded in each instance that Jesus was stressing different lessons.  The parable speaking of putting a lamp on a stand, under a bed, or under a closed container stresses three ways in which we might deal with the light we are given: sharing it widely, sharing it in a very limited way, or not sharing it at all.  The ultimate question posed by the parable, of course, is what kind of lamp are we?

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*To learn more about the parables, download the free eBook The City on a Hill: Lessons from the Parables of Jesus from our sister site, here. 

​“God, who … calls those things which do not exist as though they did” (Romans 4:17  NKJV).


​In his Hugo Award winning science fiction novel, The Man in the High Castle,  Philip K. Dick created a “what if” world showing what the United States might have become if the assassination of President Roosevelt had occurred, and this event had eventually led to the American loss of  World War II and the United States being taken over by Germany and Japan. 

Although the author of this novel was apparently a somewhat unorthodox believer, it is clear that he was interested in the Bible and knew many of its characters and stories.  This is interesting because at its heart, the kind of “alternative history” genre that The Man in the High Castle pioneered is, in a sense, based on a profoundly biblical idea. In the Bible we see many examples of God comparing what might have been with what actually was – often well in advance of the events which triggered alternative histories. Even from the beginning we find the Genesis narrative giving two possible events based on obedience and disobedience to God – and their subsequent very different outcomes (Genesis 2:16-17).  

When God was about to lead the people of Israel into the land he had promised them, he also presented them with two possible histories: one based on obedience and one on disobedience – two divergent histories of blessings and curses:

“See, I set before you today life and prosperity, death and destruction. For I command you today to love the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, and to keep his commands, decrees and laws; then you will live and increase, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land you are entering to possess. But if your heart turns away and you are not obedient ... you will certainly be destroyed. You will not live long in the land you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess” (Deuteronomy 30:15-18).

In the same way, we find the prophets of God continually reminding Israel of the history they had given up in favor of the history of rebellion, defeat and punishment they had chosen (Jeremiah 17:5-8, 21:8-10, etc.). The story has continued throughout history as we know it, of course.  Left to ourselves, we humans have usually chosen the wrong path and made history what it is. Yet the word of God shows a carefully prepared and executed plan which made possible a switch from the disastrous history humans have chosen to one which will eventually bring them a far better reality (Revelation 21:1-7).  

In The Man in the High Castle, a single event – the assassination of the American president – led to a different history.  The alternative histories of what is now and what God plans for humanity are also affected by individual events. The story of Eden in Genesis  tells us of the first defining event for human history which created one outcome, but the stories of the birth, temptation, and sacrificial death of Christ told in the four Gospels show other defining events which have made possible a truly alternative history.

When we understand this, we come to see something about our own lives:  we too have the opportunity to construct alternate history.  Every time we choose to either turn away from wrong or to embrace it, to do good or not to do good, we construct an alternative reality.  We make our own part of history – and that of those around us –  better or worse.  In this sense, we have the God-given ability to create our own story, to choose our own history,  to make history different for ourselves and for others in our every word and every deed. 
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What alternate history will you make this year? 

We must never fall into the trap of thinking that Christianity is something that missionaries and ministers do, and that the rest of us are observers to what they do. 

The apostle Paul makes this fact clear in many of his writings, but perhaps nowhere clearer than in his epistle to the Philippians.  In fact, Paul’s letter to that church might be called “the message of Christian involvement”!

Paul begins his letter: “Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus, to all God’s holy people in Christ Jesus at Philippi, together with the overseers and deacons” (Philippians 1:1), and although Timothy is not the “coauthor” of the letter, his inclusion sets the tone continued in the mention of all the believers as well as the elders of the congregation.  It is important to remember this stress on both members as well as ministers, laity as well as leaders, in reading what Paul continues to say.  Throughout the letter we find the apostle makes many statements based on equal involvement in the work of the faith, as we see in the following examples (emphases added) and many others:

In Chapter 1, Paul gives thanks for the church’s (read “everyone’s) “partnership in the gospel“ (Philippians 1:5.), and says that “all of you share in God’s grace with me” (vs. 7). He states that because of his own captivity “most of the brothers and sisters have become confident in the Lord and dare all the more to proclaim the gospel without fear” (vs. 14), and that “through your prayers and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance” (vs. 19). Paul also says “…I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith” (vs. 25), and that they should all be “striving together as one for the faith of the gospel” (vs. 27) since they  were going through “the same struggle you saw I had” (vs. 30).

Chapter 2 continues from exactly the same perspective.  Paul speaks of the “…common sharing in the Spirit…” (Philippians 2:1), “having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind” (vs. 2). And he shows that this unity is expressed in all of the Philippians having the same goals and rejoicing in the same successes of the work:  “… I am glad and rejoice with all of you.  So you too should be glad and rejoice with me” (vs. 17). In this chapter Paul also speaks of the work of Timothy, and of “… Epaphroditus, my brother, co-worker and fellow soldier, who is also your messenger, whom you sent to take care of my needs” (vs. 26), clearly showing the direct involvement of Epaphroditus and the congregation in Paul’s work.

This ongoing pattern is found throughout the rest of the epistle.  Paul mentions other members of the congregation who were deeply involved in his work – members such as certain women who “… have contended at my side in the cause of the gospel, along with Clement and the rest of my co-workers, whose names are in the book of life” (Philippians 4:3). He tells us that the Philippians shared in his troubles (4:14) and sent him help (4:16), and when Paul closes his letter with his blessing on the Philippians, he includes “all God’s people” – both all of them and all of his own group (4:21). 

If you ever doubt the importance of every Christian’s involvement in the ongoing work of God as well as the personal acceptance of the gospel, read Philippians. You will see that Paul includes all of God’s people in this work – including you.

Scripture:  “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”  Luke 19:10

Something to think about:  Modern day search and rescue operations, such as those mounted by Coast Guard, Mountain Rescue, or other hazardous terrain rescue teams,  are organized  to aid people who are in distress or imminent danger.  In all cases, of course, the rescuers have to be committed both to search effectively and then to affect a rescue.

It is a fundamental aspect of Christian belief that God did not just announce a rescue option for those who might wish to respond, but that the Son of God came to actively seek out those needing help (all of us!).  The life and death of Christ was the ultimate search and rescue operation as it sought every human being who ever lived or will yet live, and also provided the possibility of rescue from the danger of eternal death.  

But the search and rescue story does not end there. Jesus specifically commissioned his disciples to continue his work and we, as Christians, must remember that we are also in the search and rescue business by virtue of our calling.   People often ask themselves and others "What are you looking for in life?" But for the Christian the question is not "what," but whom.  We are called to follow in the steps of the One who came to seek and save, and we must all ask ourselves occasionally: "How much prayer, effort, support and involvement are we putting into search and rescue work?"

The idea of a fountain of life or rejuvenation has captivated humanity for a long time.  Stories of such a fountain are known from around the world and dating across many centuries.  

The idea is mentioned in the writings of the ancient Greek historian Herodotus, and others. It was common in many areas of Europe and Asia, and among the native peoples of the New World when it was discovered in the 16th century of our own era.  It was at that time that the legend became particularly prominent in the quest of the Spanish explorer Juan Ponce de León, who sought the fountain of life or youth in Florida in 1513. 

Many other individuals have tirelessly hunted for such a fountain over the centuries –some spending fortunes and lifetimes searching – but the  fountain has remained as elusive as it is legendary.  Today we may view the stories as quaint relics of bygone ages, but they are also sad testaments to the fact that human beings so often search for their deepest desires in all the wrong directions.

Unlike the many disenchanted explorers who admitted defeat in looking for the elusive fountain, David, king of ancient Israel, felt that he had found it. Speaking of the God of Israel, David wrote: “For with you is the fountain of life” (Psalm 36:9).   His son, the wise king Solomon – who spent much of his reign searching for what brought happiness and life – speaks repeatedly of the fountain of life in his proverbs, showing different aspects or ways in which it is experienced:

“The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, turning a person from the snares of death” (Proverbs 14:27).

“The mouth of the righteous is a fountain of life …” (Proverbs 10:11).

“The teaching of the wise is a fountain of life…” (Proverbs 13:14).

“Prudence is a fountain of life to the prudent …” (Proverbs 16:22).

Other biblical verses equate the flowing water of life with wisdom, knowledge, and truth, and these verses all show that the fountain of life can at least be approached by walking in the way of God.  But these aspects  are all, admittedly, a reflection (or perhaps more accurately a “trickle-down”) of the true fountain of life itself.  In his teaching, Jesus showed how that fountain can actually be gained:  “… whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst. But the water that I shall give him will become in him a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life” (John 4:14 NKJV).

That fountain which flows from God Himself will not disappear like a myth in the mists of time. The Book of Revelation shows it will be there beyond this age in the new heaven and earth:  “.. the Lamb who is in the midst … will shepherd them and lead them to living fountains of waters...”  (Revelation 7:17 NKJV). That is the true fountain of life that exists and lasts far beyond humanity’s wildest dreams or hopes. 

It is sad indeed that, over the centuries, many have spent great fortunes and much of their lives looking for this world’s imaginary  living fountain.  But it’s worth asking ourselves – what are we, who have found the only true fountain of life, spending of our time, energy, and resources to hold on to it and to lead others to it?

Most of us are used to lights. Bright lights.  They are all around most city dwellers to the extent that a candle or small lamp might seem insignificant indeed. Even from space, city and village lights on earth are clearly visible, while at ground level in many areas it’s hard to see the stars anymore because of the brightness of the ambient light.

As Christians we are all aware of Jesus’ instruction to “let our light shine” (Matthew 5:16), but even though we realize our light is “reflected from Christ,”  it can still be a little daunting, especially for those new to the faith, to think of ourselves as “lights.” We read the biblical stories of great men and women of faith, we see some of the things accomplished through those of faith in our own age, and it’s pretty clear that we are still at the candle power stage compared to what may seem to be the spiritual floodlights God has used and is using now.

But if we do feel any lack of confidence in this regard, we should perhaps remember just what an effect a single candle can have.  For one thing, the light of an average wax candle can be seen at amazing distances – and I’m talking about miles, not yards!  Because the earth’s surface curves below the line of sight at 3.1 miles, or 5 kilometers, you can see a candle in clear dark conditions at 3.1 miles at ground level.  But from an elevated position you can actually see a candle much further - on a dark night, in fact, the human eye is able to see a single candle flickering up to 30 miles (48 kilometers) away.

The only reason we are not aware of the amazing reach of a tiny light such as a candle is because of the bright lights that are often around us.  But that’s the same reason city dwellers often can’t see many stars because of the ambient light, although the stars are, of course, billions of times brighter than the lights around us.  Brightness seems relative to surroundings – if you are on a floodlit stage your candle or mine may seem not very bright at all. But where most of us live our daily lives – away from the spiritual floodlights – even a small candle can make a huge difference in the surrounding darkness.

The point of this analogy is just that if we allow Christ to work in our lives and to “shine” in us, we need never be concerned that our light is not bright enough, that we are not knowledgeable enough, good enough, spiritual enough. He supplies the light, not us, and even the smallest amount of light can be seen.

What Jesus said about the fact that a city on a hill can’t be hid (Matthew 5:14) also applies to our lowly candles. We don’t have to shine like a city – we don’t even have to be particularly bright. Physics teaches us that a little light can go a long way, and especially when there is no other light around, a little spiritual light can make a huge difference.

“Those who had arrested Jesus took him to Caiaphas the high priest … But Peter followed him at a distance, right up to the courtyard of the high priest. He entered and sat down with the guards to see the outcome” (Matthew 26:57-59).

The description of Peter – who had only recently insisted that he would follow Jesus to the death if necessary (John 13:37) – as following at a safe distance after Jesus’ arrest is one of the most unflattering stories in the New Testament.  When the “chips were down,” Peter did not stick with the One he acknowledged as the Christ; though later, after his empowerment by the Spirit of God, he did, of course, follow Jesus to the end. 

There are two aspects of what Matthew says about this event that we can apply to ourselves – two ways that we too can fail in following. First, we see that Peter “followed him at a distance.”  Do we do this in our lives?  If we are only partially involved in our religious beliefs, if we think of our religion  as only what we do in church, and not in our everyday lives, we are certainly following Him at a distance.

But there is also another type of distance following. We can fail to follow closely in time as well as in space. Notice that when Peter followed Jesus to the high priest’s courtyard he then “sat down ..to see the outcome.”  Do we wait to see the outcome of things before committing ourselves to following more closely?  That is the attitude of millions of people through history who have attempted to strike a bargain with God: “If you will do this – rescue me, heal me, help me or whatever – I will do better, follow you more closely.”  Although God may sometimes intervene to answer sincere prayers of this type, we must beware of putting off obedience until God has “done His side of the deal.” We can do this, for example,  by waiting till we feel our finances are in order before helping others, or in countless other ways.  Although we may feel we are sincere in these things, it’s really just following at a safe distance. We need to be following in the here and now.

It helps to remember that “Follow me” was Jesus’ first command to his disciples (Mark 1:17), and it is also his last recorded command in the Gospel of John (John 21:19). Significantly, it was to Peter that Jesus addressed that command, and repeated it, after His resurrection (John 21:21), though it clearly applies to every disciple.  Peter had to learn, and be reminded, that following Jesus  and saying we are following Jesus are not the same – and that following at a distance is not really following at all.

It’s a lesson we all need to remember at times, because God wants real followers rather than those of the “distant” or “eventual” type.   We see this in the Old Testament where God says:  “Because they have not followed me wholeheartedly, not one of those who were twenty years old or more when they came up out of Egypt will see the land I promised …” (Numbers 32:11).  We see it throughout the New Testament where numerous people failed to follow because they wanted to follow later, or at a distance: “[Jesus] said to another man, 'Follow me.' But he replied, 'Lord, first let me go and bury my father' …. Still another said, ‘I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family’ ” (Luke 9:59-61).

The whole point of following is really to follow as closely as possible. Jesus was explicit about this, saying: “Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be” (John 12:26).  That clearly implies following by walking with Him rather than following at a safe distance.

Many believers do not realize that the term “Christian” is actually one which arose relatively late in the development of “Christianity.”   Acts 11:26 tells us that as the new church developed, the disciples were first called Christians in the Syrian city of Antioch.  This was a cosmopolitan city with a diverse population, and the believers were perhaps called Christians (from the Greek word Christos – the “Anointed One” or “Messiah”) to distinguish them from Jews in the area. 

So if the believers were not called by the name of Christ at first, what were they called and how did they refer to their beliefs?   The believers were certainly known as “disciples” and referred to themselves as “brothers,” “members of the household of God” and even “saints,” but the earliest known term describing what these early believers believed, the religion they followed, was simply “the Way.” Acts 9:2 tells us that Saul sought to apprehend believers: “… so that if he found any there who belonged to the Way, whether men or women, he might take them as prisoners to Jerusalem.” (See also Acts 18:25-26, Acts 19:9 and other instances.)

Now why was early Christianity referred to as “the Way”?   Interestingly, Judaism had long thought of the Torah as a “way” in that it dictated a way of life which was synonymous with walking rightly before God, a way of righteousness described in the Book of Isaiah:  “…This is the way; walk in it” (Isaiah 30:21b).  The ancient Jewish Dead Sea Scroll community at Qumran also followed a “way” which, for them, was more a way of ritual and observance of the law.

But for the Christians there was a Messianic aspect to the term.  Isaiah 40:3 (a verse quoted several times in the New Testament) says: “…prepare the way of the Lord…” and for the early disciples, Jesus, as the Messiah promised throughout the Hebrew scriptures, was the living embodiment of that way – and, of course, he himself had said: “I am the way.” But let’s look at that affirmation a little more closely – Jesus said: “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).   In saying this Jesus made it clear that he was not only an embodiment of the right way of life, but he was also the “way” in the sense of being a road, a path, a way to the Father.  This verse tells us, in fact, that Jesus is the only way to the Father.   God is certainly a respecter of those everywhere who do good (Acts 10:34-35), but Christians accept the words of Christ that ultimately it is only through Him that we find the way to eternal life. 

So this earliest of terms for Christianity carries a lesson within itself.  It is very easy to think of Christianity as “a faith” – a distinct set of beliefs and doctrines to which we subscribe; but the words of Christ and the understanding of the earliest believers show that Christianity is not just “a set of beliefs,” but a way of life, and a way upon which we travel toward the person and nature of God.  This “Way” involves the desire and effort to live as Christ did through Christ living in us and we in Him.  “The Way” is not only about beliefs, though these are, of course, important - it is about how and where we walk.

And the way in which we walk may be the “narrow way” (Matthew 7:14), but it is not a single-lane pilgrim’s track – it is a way in which we share the walk with others: “But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another…” (1 John 1:7 and see also 1 John 2:9-11).  This is something we see throughout the Book of Acts – the earliest Christians knew there was only one “Way,” and that our calling is to help others along that way as well as to walk in it ourselves.

Is all pride wrong?  Obviously, the kind of pride that involves an attempt to  elevate ourselves above others or even God  is  diametric- ally opposed to God’s way of humility and service (Philippians 2:3), but what about other kinds of “pride”? 

What about when people praise something we have done – is accepting such praise giving place to pride?  In his book The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis pointed out that this kind of “pride” is really just the state of being happy that we have pleased someone.  As such it is not really pride at all, even though we may call it that. In a  similar manner, Lewis showed, being “proud” of our family, school, military unit or social club’s achievements is not usually elevating pride, but happiness with and respect for these groups in a kind of “team spirit.”

But what about the things we make or do personally – should we be “proud” of our own accomplishments?  Does “Let someone else praise you, not your own mouth” (Proverbs 27:2) mean we should not enjoy our achievements in life and be willing to talk about them under appropriate circumstances?  The answer would seem to be, once again, that there is nothing wrong with such “pride” if it is not comparative or self-elevating (2 Corinthians 10:12, KJV and Holman).  We can be justly pleased with what we have made or done when that is a reflection of the fact that we have worked hard to accomplish something worthwhile. This is not wrongful “pride” but legitimate satisfaction.

The apostle Paul tells us, in fact: “Each one should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else” (Galatians 6:4).  These words show us there is right pride that is not self-elevating. We should not forget the biblical example of creation – where God reports that He saw what He had made and that it was good.  Obviously wrong pride doesn’t apply to God, but the principle seems clear that God takes pleasure and satisfaction in what He makes.  It would seem that He has made us in His likeness in this, also. 

 At some point you have probably purchased something that had a small sticker or insert saying “Built with pride by [name] company.”  This is a statement that the company has done something they feel is worthy of the people for whom it was made, and in that sense it is a mark of the producer’s respect for the customer as much as it is “pride” in their work.  I’m sure the carpenter we know as Jesus of Nazareth did not build shoddy products and that he felt what he built was indeed “good.”  If there had been stickers back then, I can imagine one saying “Built by Joseph and Son, Quality Carpentry.” 

So we can be proud of our work done well.  It’s something to rightly aim for. If we have done our best and the work is good, it is to the glory of God, not just ourselves, and striving for that is not “pride” but an integral part of the love of God (Colossians 3:23).  It is no different from the pleasure that God doubtless takes in building something good in us.  We should remember, too, that we are God’s workmanship (Ephesians 2:10), where “workmanship” signifies something carefully made by a craftsman.  The same God who said “This is my beloved Son in whom I  am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17) wants to say the same of us.  God builds with pride – and we should, too.

The subject of numerous stories of varying levels of believability and skill, the disappearing person motif is one that has been employed by many mystery writers.  Even well-known authors such as Isaac Asimov have used the theme, and it’s one which does hold a good degree of human interest.

The motif of the disappearing person  is even one we find in the Bible.  Elijah is said to have disappeared from view, not to be seen again (2 Kings 2); and historically, a number of the prophets seem to have come onto the scene only to deliver their messages and then to vanish into obscurity – at least not to be heard from again.  In the case of John the Baptist we have a little documentation regarding what happened.  John was certainly highly visible throughout the early part of his ministry, while he predicted the coming of the Messiah, but when the Messiah came in the form of Jesus of Nazareth, John began to fade from view. 

John continued his work for a while, announcing the One whose shoes he said he was unworthy to carry (Matthew 3:11), and repeatedly pointing his own disciples to Him (John 1:35-37), but John himself knew that his disappearance was imminent.  We see this in John’s own words as he spoke of Jesus:  “He must become greater, I must become less” (John 3:30).  That’s exactly what  happened, of course.  Soon the work of the Messiah rendered John all but invisible, despite his earlier fame, and John was eventually martyred and vanished from view.

So, great biblical characters such as Elijah and John disappeared in varying ways, but the Bible shows that disappearing  is something God has in mind for all of His servants, for everyone who commits to Him.  Obviously, this applies in general to us all, as James says: “What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes” (James 4:14).  But I’m not talking about the transience of our lives – rather the disappearance of our old selves within the life we have now. 

Paul states this clearly in saying: “… if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away” (2 Corinthians 5:17), and  “... put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires” (Ephesians 4:22).  If we are truly being renewed in our lives, the old person will gradually disappear as our old nature is replaced by a better one. We will never be perfect in this life, of course, but we do need to occasionally take stock of our lives and see if our old selves are truly disappearing or not.  Disappearing  is imperative if we are to fulfill the calling we have been given.  Although it may be in a different sense,  we need to be continually reminding ourselves of John’s words:  “He must become greater, I must become less.”

Empty can be such a negative word: the empty glass, empty promises, an empty bank account, and perhaps worst of all is when we are driving late at night and far from a gas station and our fuel gauge shows that we are running dangerously low on fuel.  We are “running on empty.” 

But in God’s scheme of things even something empty can represent something very great.  This time of year carries a wonderful reminder of that in the message of the empty tomb of Christ.  As Christians we celebrate the empty tomb with awe at what occurred and thankfulness for what it means, but do we stop there, or does the story inspire us to something else?  The gospels can provide us with a reminder of what needs to follow the fact of the empty tomb in the form of a detail of the resurrection story. Notice what Matthew says regarding the experience of the women who came to the empty tomb and who were confronted by a messenger of God:

“The angel said to the women, 'Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified.  He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.  Then go quickly and tell his disciples: He has risen from the dead...' So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples”  (Matthew 28:5-8).

Here the women who were followers of Christ ran to tell the story of the empty tomb of Jesus and of his resurrection. It was the emptiness of the tomb that gave them a message that went first to those who were already disciples, and then outward to the whole world.  And notice that they did not walk to deliver the message of the empty tomb, they ran. They were running based on the importance of the empty tomb – metaphorically they were running on empty. 

Some two thousand years later the followers of Jesus can still run on empty.  But  do we? Is it enough to celebrate the empty tomb, then to go back to life as usual, or should we be running  with the news?  If we are truly inspired by the story of the empty tomb and what it means – not only for us personally, but for all humanity – with the help of God we, too, can be excited to joyfully run with that message in whatever opportunity we have been given to deliver it. 

The recent hoopla over comet Ison, which many astronomers thought might become the comet of the century, died quickly with the comet’s ignominious end, or as one astronomer quipped – as “the particles formerly known as comet Ison.”

The hoopla reminded me, however, of a comet I saw in my teens.  It was an incredible sight as an object  no larger than a speck in astronomical terms glowed as a beautiful lamp in the darkness around it. 

Since seeing that comet, the cosmic travelers have always fascinated me, not least in the way in which they shine. Nothing more than small lumps of and ice and other frozen matter, comets orbit around the sun, of course, and are relatively invisible till they come close to the solar orb. 

Once comets come close enough to the sun, however, the power of the solar wind begins to give  them the visible lamp-like tails which stream out behind each comet's body and glow by reflected light. The closer they get to the sun, the brighter they shine.

For the Christian, the comet is an obvious metaphor - an analogy for a truth we all know but need to remember.  Although we may be spiritually insignificant of ourselves, the closer we move to the One who is the center of our spiritual orbit, the closer we come to the One who scripture calls the “Rising Sun” and the “Day Star”  (Luke 1:78, 2 Peter 1:19), the more we become visible as a light in the darkness which may surround us. 

If, physically, even a “failed” comet such as Ison can attract as much attention as it did, perhaps we can see the spiritual potential in moving ever closer to the One who, through His power working in us, can make us a light in the dark.

 “Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest’ “ (Matthew 9:37-38).

Although these verses are usually interpreted to mean that we should pray for more people to come to the knowledge of the truth who could join the work,  it seems to me that they may just as well mean that we should pray that laborers who are available, but not in the field, should get involved in the harvest. If that is the case, then we should all be praying for help to see what we can be doing, not just for others to come along who will do the work.

In any event, it is clear that we are told to pray earnestly (the Greek word is a form of deomai signifying “beseeching” or even "begging").  We can hardly pray in this manner without personal involvement in the need for which we pray.  How?  We can pray earnestly for more workers to be called, or to become involved, for their needs, and for the success of their work.  What else can we do?  Certainly we can help financially, as we are able, to support good work where it is being done [Note: TacticalChristianity.org  does not accept donations or gifts],  but prayer always must be the first priority.    That’s what Jesus stressed.  On the other hand, other scriptures do show the necessity of helping those workers who “go out” into the harvest.  Notice the words of John in this regard:

“Beloved, it is a faithful thing you do in all your efforts for these brothers, strangers as they are … You will do well to send them on their journey in a manner worthy of God.  For they have gone out for the sake of the name … Therefore we ought to support people like these, that we may be fellow workers for the truth” (3 John 1:5-8 ESV).

So, even if it is not our calling to personally go out into the “harvest field,”  there is much that we can do to support those who do go and to be “fellow workers.”  The “advertisement” for help needed has already been published.  It is up to us to respond today!

“You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world … let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5: 13-16).  



Although Jesus’ statement  regarding being the light of the world is related directly to His disciples’ good deeds, His words at the same place in the Sermon on the Mount regarding being the “salt of the earth” do not say exactly what the salt represents.  All we are told is that it is important that salt has “saltiness” or “flavor” and if it loses that, it isn’t good for anything.   

Despite attempts to explain the symbolic importance of salt in this verse as a preservative, a purifier, a symbol of righteousness,  and other things, it would seem best to simply accept Christ’s words that if the salt loses its flavor, it is useless.  This was, after all, the primary use of salt – to give flavor and make things pleasing and palatable – as we see in the Book of Job: “Can that which is unsavory be eaten without salt?” (Job 6:6a). The apostle Paul used a metaphor of salt in a similar way, saying: “Let your utterance be always with graciousness, seasoned with salt…” (Colossians 4:6). This understanding of the function of salt to make something pleasing and acceptable seems to be strengthened by Jesus’  additional comment recorded in Mark:  “Have salt among yourselves, and be at peace with each other” (Mark 9:50).  Here we are to be “palatable” and thus acceptable to each other and at peace.

Understood in this natural way, Christ’s words that His disciples are the salt of the earth mean that they represent humankind to God in a pleasing manner – making the world “palatable” to Him, as it were.  As the light, His disciples represent God to humanity through good deeds.   The expressions thus encompass in only a few  words the roles and responsibilities of discipleship as it relates to God and man.   Representing humanity to God and God to humanity might seem like huge responsibilities, and they are, yet we can be encouraged.  Jesus does not say to His disciples “Strive to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world.” He says “You are the salt and the light.”  We can always strive to better serve in these ways – and hopefully we will – but if we are His disciples,  if we have not lost our spiritual “flavor” and we have the good deeds that are part of our calling, we can rejoice that we have the privilege to function as salt and light in God’s plan.
                                                           __________

This week’s new article on our site, “Discipleship Illustrated” by Whaid Rose, is specifically on the subject of discipleship in the Sermon on the Mount.  It is taken, with permission, from his “Last Word” column in the Bible Advocate.  The article incorporates a small climbing analogy and is a personal favorite for me.  Be sure not to miss it!