Many unbelievers point to continued suffering in the world as evidence that there is, in fact, no “kingdom” of Christ. How good can the reign of a holy God be when it is attended by oppression, sickness, disaster and continued strife between men? If a “king” has come, shouldn’t we see his throne, his castle, his fortifications and armies?
Unfortunately, many believers look at the world around us and and ask the same question, leading to doubts, insecurity, and a ministry characterized by ineffectiveness and fruitlessness.
Mark 1:14-20 addresses some of those concerns. Even though the arrival of the kingdom is not accompanied by great fanfare (castles and armies and such), it demands radical change in the lives of those who hear of its arrival.
Several conditions attend the arrival of the kingdom.
First, its Context is Immediate. Jesus says that the “time is fulfilled, the kingdom of God is at hand.” Unlike ourexpressions in which we use “kingdom come” as a distant event (“you could tell him that until kingdom come”), we pray “thy kingdom come” in recognition that the kingdom is both here and is also coming: it is “already, but not yet.”
Second, its Circumstance is Normal. Mark quotes Old Testament prophets to teach that John the Baptizer was the messenger before the Lord/LORD, and that Jesus is the “one greater than” John. But with the arrival of the king, and of the kingdom, Andrew and Simon still have to fish for a living. Men still need to eat. James and John still have to mend broken nets. The earth still yields thorns and thistles from the curse of the Fall (Genesis 3).
Third, its Demands are Comprehensive. The kingdom is at hand, so “repent, and believe the gospel.” When a king has conquered territory and is establishing the reign in his realm, the occupants have a choice: join the new kingdom or rebel and face the consequences.
Fourth, its Effects are Radical. The king issues a call that is 1) to him — not to a cause or to a principle; 2) to service — to become fishers of men, not to simply know something; and 3) to fellowship — he calls men to follow among others whose names they know, not to a faith that is private or anonymous. And men leave all to follow him. Andrew, Simon, James and John left their business, their family and even those on the payroll in order to follow Jesus.
Are we, too, required to quit work? Not necessarily. But if mending nets and tending family prevent us from following him, they must go.
The fanfare of the kingdom of Christ is the radical change of nature, the wholesale reorientation of mind, will and emotions, that occurs in men when they are exposed to the arrival of the kingdom in the preaching of the gospel, hear the call of Christ, and repent and believe.
It does not matter, then, that the nets are still broken.
Showing posts with label kingdom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kingdom. Show all posts
Monday, January 17, 2011
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Do we take heaven by storm?
In discussing the ministry of his cousin, Jesus reported that 'from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force' (Matthew 11:12).
From the time the Baptist preached repentance for the forgiveness of sins, because the kingdom was at hand, multitudes strained to gain entry, much like a destitute hoard which learns that the riches of a fortified city may be theirs if only they scale the walls.
In the eyes of the religious, their precious stronghold was being overrun by undesirables.
In another sense, the kingdom does not come without violence: it separates those who would be in from those who wish to remain out; it pits those who welcome the reign it represents from those who continue to rebel against its Lord.
And, further, the kingdom does violence within each man who wishes to enter, for entry into Christ's kingdom requires the mortification of the flesh -- putting to death the deeds of the worldly desires that continue to rise up within us. This violence requires us to pluck out our proverbial eye, to cut off our metaphorical hand, if such is necessary to secure our entry.
Of course, the world, the flesh, the devil do not want any to enter Christ's kingdom, and themselves strive and strain to preserve their grip on the souls of men. Only the violent -- those regenerated and empowered by the Spirit -- can resist with the violence necessary to escape their clutches.
Of this violent kingdom-taking Thomas Watson writes: 'the flesh is a sly enemny; at first dulce venenum (a beautiful charm or potion); afterward, scorpio pungens (a fighting scorpoion); it kills by embracing' and 'the movement of the soul towards sins is natural, but its movement towards heaven is violent'(Heaven Taken by Storm).
Does our faith resemble this sort of violence? Does our walk with Christ require this sort of effort, this continual homicide of our own man?
Or is the most striving and straining we muster in relation to our favorites sports teams? Do we take heaven by storm -- with zeal -- or do we attempt to ride in, 'easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy'?
From the time the Baptist preached repentance for the forgiveness of sins, because the kingdom was at hand, multitudes strained to gain entry, much like a destitute hoard which learns that the riches of a fortified city may be theirs if only they scale the walls.
In the eyes of the religious, their precious stronghold was being overrun by undesirables.
In another sense, the kingdom does not come without violence: it separates those who would be in from those who wish to remain out; it pits those who welcome the reign it represents from those who continue to rebel against its Lord.
And, further, the kingdom does violence within each man who wishes to enter, for entry into Christ's kingdom requires the mortification of the flesh -- putting to death the deeds of the worldly desires that continue to rise up within us. This violence requires us to pluck out our proverbial eye, to cut off our metaphorical hand, if such is necessary to secure our entry.
Of course, the world, the flesh, the devil do not want any to enter Christ's kingdom, and themselves strive and strain to preserve their grip on the souls of men. Only the violent -- those regenerated and empowered by the Spirit -- can resist with the violence necessary to escape their clutches.
Of this violent kingdom-taking Thomas Watson writes: 'the flesh is a sly enemny; at first dulce venenum (a beautiful charm or potion); afterward, scorpio pungens (a fighting scorpoion); it kills by embracing' and 'the movement of the soul towards sins is natural, but its movement towards heaven is violent'(Heaven Taken by Storm).
Does our faith resemble this sort of violence? Does our walk with Christ require this sort of effort, this continual homicide of our own man?
Or is the most striving and straining we muster in relation to our favorites sports teams? Do we take heaven by storm -- with zeal -- or do we attempt to ride in, 'easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy'?
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Dirt Is Dirt
Or Not.
With four kids, one quickly realizes that there are many different kinds of dirty. There’s the sandy dirt that falls off kid shoes and collects in the floorboard of the mini-van. Then there’s the cakey, earthy dirt that coats hands and faces after a round of making mud holes and mud pies. Then there’s the red clay ubiquitous on sporting fields throughout the Southeast, the stains of which won’t come out of anything, no matter how many gallons of bleach is applied.
Gardeners and farmers have known this for, well, forever. Some soil is good for planting certain crops and plants, some not, and some requires rehab in order to be productive.
My green thumb has long ago proven to be black, and I kill more plants than I tend well. We were sprucing up the greenery around the house, and discovered that the dirt there was the hard clay variety. I had to use an assortment of pickaxes, shovels, and sticks of dynamite to produce a hole big enough for a geranium. I mixed the clay with good soil from other parts of the yard in a big pile in the driveway, and while doing so I noticed something very strange.
When mixed, a very small proportion of good soil would quickly turn a much larger pile of red clay into good, brown dirt that could go directly into the hole with the new plant. The small amount of rich, life-sustaining material rehabilitates a large amount of sterile, life-snuffing material.
“’The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is larger than all the garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.’ He told them another parable. ‘The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, till it was all leavened.’” Matthew 13:31-33.
With four kids, one quickly realizes that there are many different kinds of dirty. There’s the sandy dirt that falls off kid shoes and collects in the floorboard of the mini-van. Then there’s the cakey, earthy dirt that coats hands and faces after a round of making mud holes and mud pies. Then there’s the red clay ubiquitous on sporting fields throughout the Southeast, the stains of which won’t come out of anything, no matter how many gallons of bleach is applied.
Gardeners and farmers have known this for, well, forever. Some soil is good for planting certain crops and plants, some not, and some requires rehab in order to be productive.
My green thumb has long ago proven to be black, and I kill more plants than I tend well. We were sprucing up the greenery around the house, and discovered that the dirt there was the hard clay variety. I had to use an assortment of pickaxes, shovels, and sticks of dynamite to produce a hole big enough for a geranium. I mixed the clay with good soil from other parts of the yard in a big pile in the driveway, and while doing so I noticed something very strange.
When mixed, a very small proportion of good soil would quickly turn a much larger pile of red clay into good, brown dirt that could go directly into the hole with the new plant. The small amount of rich, life-sustaining material rehabilitates a large amount of sterile, life-snuffing material.
“’The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is larger than all the garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.’ He told them another parable. ‘The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, till it was all leavened.’” Matthew 13:31-33.
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