guilt

The Forbidden First Stone

/ Bryan Lowe / Leave a comment

“They kept demanding an answer, so he stood up again and said, “All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!”

(John 8:7, NLT)

“None knows the weight of another’s burden.”

-George Herbert

As believers, we must discern motives and false doctrine. We’re to be constantly aware of people and issues that swirl around us–of this, there is no doubt, we mustn’t be ignorant. This is a healthy “discernment.” But we must learn that having discernment isn’t a way that passes out a ‘guilty’ penalty. We are ‘seeing’ things these things–not to pass judgment, but that we might pray clearly and earnestly, and grow into His love for the weak.

But to pass out a guilty sentence is God’s exclusive jurisdiction.

It’s far beyond our ‘pay grade.’ He is the final judge in everything. He judges justly and lovingly. He alone knows and understands everything very clearly. We don’t.

And yet how foolish we are. Do we really have the ability to pronounce a penalty to someone else? Could it be when we decide to throw rocks at certain people we’re in terrible danger of forfeiting our own salvation? “But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” (Matt. 6:15.)

We discern, not to pass judgment, but to pray more clearly and effectively. What you see or sense is for the prayer closet, not before a judge’s bench.

(If you have a ‘rock’ in your hand, you are in definite danger.)

“Don’t judge others, or you will be judged. 2 You will be judged in the same way that you judge others, and the amount you give to others will be given to you.

We really don’t have a problem with worldly people. We understand that they are lost in their sins, terribly wrapped up in their own personal darkness, and that should definitely disturb us. We must point to the Blood of Christ that forgives us. We share the good news of true repentance and faith. His Spirit teaches us to be witnesses of His love to everyone we meet.

But in light of this, isn’t strange that almost all of our judgment is somehow directed at other believers! Why?! For some strange reason, it ‘seems,’ we think that we must pronounce guilt and (by doing so) we declare our own “holy” attitude to our place in the Body. In a weird sense, we think we have the supreme calling to condemn someone else’ walk, and by doing so exalt our own!

“The life of faith is a struggle enough in a broken world without us complicating it for other believers.”

–Jake Colsen

It just may come as a shock to some, but it’s extremely difficult to throw stones at someone when we are busy “washing” their feet.

“The nature and end of judgment or sentence must be corrective, never vindictive; it is always for healing, and never for destruction.”

–John Owen

Perhaps when we judge others, we reveal that we don’t understand what ‘real’ discipleship with Jesus is? Somehow it seems, we really aren’t quite grasping the immensity of His grace on guilty people? Do we really understand His profound love for the fallen? “God so loved the World…” Have we had any idea how patient He is with us? Do we doubt His ability to correct others? (These are awfully hard questions.)

“Judge not lest you be judged.” (Jesus’ words really do scare me sometimes.)

Certainly, I intend to confront the darkness. “You are the light, a city set on a hill!” I am His salt and light and I do shine into this dark night. But that is His doing, not mine. I do not generate light on my own. The Bible declares me as ‘self-righteous’ when I try. I am a broken person, who is just starting to understand the scope of my own brokenness and weaknesses. I’m starting to realize I’m not in a position to judge someone else. I’m not quite healed myself yet and I must not think I can point to someone else as being worse than me.

Quite simply, I can’t throw ‘rocks’ at other believers anymore.

I can no longer pass out any condemnation from my own limited understanding. My chief concern right now is to be a humble, earnest Christian who is always ready to forgive those who, in their awful sin and confusion, are hurting others. I’m beginning to see that my calling is to be; a simple servant to my brothers and sisters, nothing more, and nothing less.

When the Rooster Crows

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37 Peter said to him, “Lord, why can I not follow you now? I will lay down my life for you.” 

38 Jesus answered, “Will you lay down your life for me? Truly, truly, I say to you, the rooster will not crow till you have denied me three times.

John 13:37-38, ESV

Jesus had full knowledge of him, and yet, His love for him remained unwavering. Can one truly fathom the magnitude of this? In verse 37, Peter boldly declared his unwavering commitment to follow Jesus, even if it meant laying down his very life. I firmly believe in Peter’s sincerity and his readiness to follow through on his words, even if he had to die.

But Jesus bought none of it, He knew all about Peter.

He poses a question to Peter–the type of question that had to have penetrated Peter’s interior bravado. It’s said someplace that “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Perhaps this is true here. But Jesus knew.

In contemplating the depth of understanding that someone truly possesses about us, it becomes a fascinating journey of knowing ourselves. How well does he truly know us? Is He aware of the moments of doubt that creep into our minds, the fears that grip our hearts, and the dreams we cherish in the depths of our souls?

It is as though he sees straight through our facades and masks, peering into the deepest recesses of our being, unearthing our vulnerabilities and laying them bare.

When he casts his gaze upon us, it is not merely a superficial glance. It’s a penetrating look that delves into the very essence of our existence. In those moments, it’s as though Jesus knows our every flaw and imperfection. We cannot hide from Him, for he perceives the intricate details of our lives with a clarity that surpasses even our own self-awareness.

He knows us.

Yet, in the midst of this profound understanding, Jesus’ love remains unwavering and unconditional. It’s a love that transcends our frailties and shortcomings. It extends beyond our misplaced zeal and faltering commitments. His love for us is not based on our performance or achievements but on the simple fact that we are his creation – flawed and imperfect, yet filled with potential and worth.

In His presence, we find solace and acceptance. We are reminded that we don’t have to strive to earn his love, for it is freely given. Our weaknesses do not diminish His heart, but rather, they provide an opportunity for his grace to shine through. It is in our moments of weakness that Jesus’ strength is made perfect, and His love becomes all the more real.

So, let us embrace the reality that we are known – truly known – by Someone who cares deeply for us. Let’s cast aside the illusion of perfection and allow ourselves to be seen in our sins and flaws. For it is in this authentic state that we can fully experience the depth of His love and find true healing and restoration.

As we journey through life, let’s grab a hold of the assurance that we are known by name, understood beyond measure, and loved unconditionally. And in that love, may we find the courage to embrace our true selves and live out our purpose with confidence and joy.

That both comforts and disturbs me, and I don’t really understand how or why He does it.

Have you heard the rooster?

Maybe that’s the way He’s going to teach you the depths of his love?

“God has paid us the intolerable compliment of loving us, in the deepest, most tragic, and most inexorable sense.”

    C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

Everyone Could See Me

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John 8:3-11

3 Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery, making her stand in the center. 4 “Teacher,” they said to him, “this woman was caught in the act of committing adultery. 5 In the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” 6 They asked this to trap him, in order that they might have evidence to accuse him.

Jesus stooped down and started writing on the ground with his finger. 7 When they persisted in questioning him, he stood up and said to them, “The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8 Then he stooped down again and continued writing on the ground. 9 When they heard this, they left one by one, starting with the older men. Only he was left, with the woman in the center. 10 When Jesus stood up, he said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

11 “No one, Lord,” she answered.

I remember how Jesus defended me. I had been led through the crowds. The temple was filled with people who were there for the festival. It was a time of joy and feasting, but not for me. Definitely not for me.

The temple police escorted me to Jesus. I was now the focus of everyone’s attention. I felt dirty and ashamed. Standing there I could feel the lustful looks from the Pharisees; but there was something else as well, a look from Jesus that I had never seen before. There was compassion there, something quite extraordinary.

I’m ashamed, I committed adultery, I had slept with another man who wasn’t my husband.

I was to be stoned, to have hard rocks thrown at me by “holy” men. The Law had pronounced my guilt, and I knew how I was to be punished. And I deserved it. Yet the man who I slept with was never charged, he escaped and it was I that would be put to death. I didn’t blame him.

My shame was now public knowledge–everyone knew, the Pharisees made sure of that.

They only put me front and center to test Him.

These men who brought me had ulterior motives, they desperately hoped Jesus would stumble. I think they wanted to prove once and all to the crowds that were watching that Jesus really wasn’t the Messiah. They wanted to trap him.

Jesus seemed to understand the implications of this satanic effort.

Only Rome had the power of execution, and yet the Mosaic Law declared that I was to die. I stood waiting, expecting the worst. What else could I do?

It’s funny, but Jesus understood all of this. He seemed to look right through this theological trick, and He responded in a way that really shocked everyone. He never spoke, but bowed low and began to write in the dirt with his finger. Amidst their vicious accusations, they pressed their case.

Jesus bent down again, and he wrote some more.

I never knew what he wrote–but I had to believe it must have been something that revealed the sin in the hidden hearts of the men who were accusing me. In that moment, they quickly dropped the case against me. They all filed out, one by one, in dramatic fashion. I now stood alone with Jesus.

And Jesus looked directly at me.

I was still afraid, but it was strange, I felt a wave of peace as well. I quietly waited, not knowing what He was going to say to me. I suppose I half expected the worst.

Yes, he did confront me. But He wanted me to acknowledge that those accusing men had left. I saw it and understood. Jesus was asking me to believe that I was now really free. But then he wanted me to understand something that seemed quite crucial.

“Neither do I condemn you,” said Jesus. “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”

That dear one was a powerful moment. He set me free with the understanding that He did not condemn me. But my freedom from judgement came with a catch–sort of. I knew then that my sin must be renounced. My freedom came with a price. But knowing I was completely released, meant I was now a free woman.

At that moment I understood completely.

“God pardons like a mother, who kisses the offense into everlasting forgiveness.”

    Henry Ward Beecher

God, Have Mercy On Me

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Luke 18:9-14

“He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and looked down on everyone else: 10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee was standing and praying like this about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I’m not like other people—greedy, unrighteous, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of everything I get.’”

13 “But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even raise his eyes to heaven but kept striking his chest and saying, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner!’ 14 I tell you, this one went down to his house justified rather than the other, because everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

He despised others. As a Pharisee he prided himself as a holy person; he stood before God and congratulated himself. I believe that self-righteousness has many levels. You can be blatant and obvious about it, or it can be subtle and hidden. But we must understand that the father sees and knows. Notice the “we all” here in Isaiah 64:6–

“We are all like one who is unclean, all our so-called righteous acts are like a menstrual rag in your sight. We all wither like a leaf; our carry us away like the wind.”

(Hmm. Is that what He sees? A menstrual rag? You got to be kidding!)

We often advance ourselves by demeaning those who struggle hard with their sin–there are those who see and somehow know that they’re superior. We don’t come out and say so; but we’ve arrived— but guess what— God (and scripture) tell us something radically different.

But we’re not dealing here with a hidden self-righteousness. The Pharisee truly believes that he is special. He stands and doesn’t kneel. He feels comfortable and confident in the holy presence of God Almighty. He’s not like the others. He is sure that he’s holy.

Look though, the tax-collector was being brutally honest.

He didn’t need anyone to tell him how sinful he was—he understood his own wickedness. Jesus’ story reveals God’s love for those who know that they’re twisted inside. Notice the heart of the tax-collector:

  • “He stood afar off” which showed his awareness of his separation from God.
  • “He wouldn’t even raise his eyes to heaven,” which declared his humility in the presence of God.
  • He kept “striking his chest,” which tells us of a deep pain over his sin against God.
  • He prayed, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner!’ This describes his desperate heart.

These both came to pray, but that is all they had in common.

The Pharisee came to the temple to show off his righteousness, the tax-collector out of a terrible despair. It strikes me that the text in verse 11 says the Pharisee “began praying to himself.” It seems that his prayer never really met God—he was proud and showy, doing the things God hates (Prov. 29:23).

Things really came obvious in verse 14. That’s the critical point of the entire story—“one went down to his house justified rather than the other.” Wow! What a statement. One professionally religious man, sure of his holiness, the other a sinful sinner, who came humble and broken. One showed off his faith—boasting with a legalistic swagger. The other desperate and desolate, completely undone.

But it was the tax-man who became righteous in the eyes of God.

Humility is the foundation of the kingdom of Jesus. In Matthew 5:3-4 makes a lot of sense—to be “poor in spirit” and to “mourn” are the bedrock of a Christian’s discipleship. To be justified (made right) was a gift. He didn’t try to earn it, and there wasn’t a probationary period. The tax-collector now became righteous; the Pharisee carried his sin.

God wants us to have a broken-heart. He rejects everything else. I suppose that the question is this: Do you mourn over your sin? 

“The Lord is near the brokenhearted;
he saves those crushed in spirit

Psalm 34:18

Art by Eugène Burnand

The Stomach Churning Sin of Manasseh

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God’s temple was now filled with an evil darkness. King Manasseh made the Lord’s holy place a fountain of sin and filth. Instead of holiness, it was an evil place.

He brought in dark things that were twisted, perverted and clearly forbidden.

“Manasseh led Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem astray, to do more evil than the nations whom the Lord destroyed before the people of Israel.”

2 Chronicles 33:9, ESV

His own darkness was now encouraged by others, it became accessible, available and promoted:

  • The high places were rebuilt throughout the land.
  • Altars to Baal rebuilt, using images of wood.
  • In the holy temple, altars to the “starry host,” astrology, plain and simple.
  • Human sacrifice of his own sons to Molech, a false god. Murder.
  • He practiced soothsaying, used witchcraft and sorcery, and consulted mediums and spiritists.

Evil was being encouraged and something wicked was replacing all that was good and true. The analysis of Manasseh’s policies was way beyond disturbing. Of all the kings of Judah, he was the most sinful and the most corrupt. He was at the bottom of the barrel.

The Hebrew word for “led astray” can be translated seduced.

Manasseh was an incredibly immoral man, a king who ruled for 40 years. “He did all he could to pervert the national character, and totally destroy the worship of the true God; and he succeeded.” (Clarke)

It’s believed that he put Isaiah to death by cutting him in two.

Moreover Manasseh shed very much innocent blood, till he had filled Jerusalem from one end to another, besides his sin by which he made Judah sin, in doing evil in the sight of the LORD.

1 Kings 21:16

But then something happened.

And the LORD spoke to Manasseh and his people, but they would not listen. Therefore the LORD brought upon them the captains of the army of the king of Assyria, who took Manasseh with hooks, bound him with bronze fetters, and carried him off to Babylon.

2 Chronicles 33:10-11

Assyria came knocking on Manasseh’s door. I think there was a certain mercy here, but also discipline. Manasseh had “hooks,” inserted through his jaw and out of his mouth. Like a fish he was led to Babylon, a trophy of the power of the army of Babylon.

It was from a dark dungeon that Manasseh cried out to the Lord and repented.

(2 Chronicles 33:12-13.)

There’s a Jewish fable that when Manasseh cried out to God the angels boarded up the windows in heaven. They wanted to block out his prayer so God wouldn’t be able to hear. But God, rich in mercy, bored a hole in front of His throne to hear Manasseh’s desperate cry.

The Lord’s intention was to forever show His kindness and grace given to the most awful repentant sinner.

I believe that Manasseh was the “Prodigal Son” of the Old Testament.

God is not at a loss when He moves to bring us back to Himself. He can woo or whip. He can draw or drive. He can work rapidly or slowly, as He pleases. In other words, He is free to be God! And in His own way, at His own pace, He brings us back.

     Tom Wells

God is wildly in love with you. Yes, the sin you’ve committed is awful, but the Lord wants you to come back. He may discipline you, but He forgives everything if you’ll turn and repent.

No matter how awful your sin, He forgives and restores. Manasseh is proof of that.

Sources:

2 Chronicles 33:1-20

2 Kings 21:1-18

Enduring Word commentary

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Do You Really Love the Master?

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How much do you love Jesus? This parable looks at the heart of the believer, the person who has been incredibly forgiven of everything–past, present and future. And it’s here we see a woman whose heart is broken by her sin, and she discovers Jesus’ grace, and tremendous mercy.

“A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42 When they could not pay, he cancelled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?” 43 Simon answered, “The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt.” And he said to him, “You have judged rightly.” 

44 “Then turning toward the woman he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. 45 You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. 46 You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment.” 

47 “Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.”

Luke 7:40-47

Jesus has been invited to Simon’s home. He’s a Pharisee, and at this point they haven’t quite banded together to attack Jesus, it seems that there were still some Pharisees who were true seekers.

The text jumps right in and we see Jesus reclining at a table (the Jewish people didn’t use chairs–pillows were used instead.) At a feast like this people who weren’t officially invited could come in to stand in the back and listen in on the conversation. (That seems awkward.)

Suddenly a woman enters the room.

She’s described as “a woman of the city,” which is a code word for “a sinner, or a harlot.” (Let your imagination roll that one around.) She comes with a definite purpose, for she brings a jar of quite expensive perfume with her.

The passage reveals that she’s on her knees, weeping on Jesus’ feet, and rubbing her tears with her hair, and pouring out the perfume. She’s kissing his feet. She’s obviously a broken person—someone who knows who Jesus is, and who understands who she is, and how deep sin has destroyed her.

At this point Simon is deeply offended, and probably embarrassed by what’s happening. But he also assumes that Jesus isn’t who he’s saying he is. “How dare does this man let an unclean person even touch Him!” But Jesus understands everything. His parable is short (just two verses) and it’s directed at Simon; and it’s a no-brainer.

The interpretation is obvious: the man who owes the most will love the most.

Jesus accentuates Simon’s breach of protocol. The Lord deftly explains the entire situation and Simon is busted. He’s put on the spot and Jesus has made his point. It’s all so obvious. The essence of the story is clear. How much do you love the Master?

Do you fully fathom how much sin Jesus has forgiven you?

(Or maybe you’re a Simonite?)

Perhaps you’re someone who doesn’t quite accept what’s real? The Bible tells us repeatedly that no one is righteous. No one. Scripture has a very low opinion of the righteousness of men. (That should shatter your thinking.)

“But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags; and we all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away.”

Isaiah 64:6, KJV

The Hebrew word for “filthy rags” is extremely graphic–literally it means “a menstruating cloth.” It was something that a woman used before Tampax came along. How very descriptive. Do we even have the slightest idea what that means? Are our good deeds that bad?

Yes they are. Isaiah announces that’s exactly how God sees our best attempts to find acceptance apart from grace. It often seems we try to please Him by doing the best we can, but that isn’t sufficient. We always fall short and mess up.

How does understanding this change our discipleship? I’ll let you be the judge on this on this one.

“He loved us not because we are lovable, but because He is love.”

C.S. Lewis

The Thief on the Cross Speaks

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Luke 23:39-43

“One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” 

42 “And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 43 And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

The pain was incredible, but I know that deep down I deserved to die. But not like this. Never like this. I was almost out of my mind with fear. What they were doing to me was terrifying.

You must understand that I was a common thief. I had stolen a loaf of bread when I was eight years old and that’s how it all got started for me. It more or else got bigger and easier. I knew how to steal and I was quite good at it. I was Jacob, the master thief!

When I was finally caught, they sentenced me to die. I supposed it was inevitable. I fault no one but myself as I knew what I was getting into. As I dragged my beam up to Golgotha, it was really strange but I suddenly remembered a verse from the scripture and it really did unsettle me.

“Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree.”

(Gal. 3:13, ESV)

It’s a terrible thing to die this way. There were three of us, nailed to the wood and lifted up between heaven and earth. Jesus was nailed to the middle cross, not that it really mattered; all three of us were going to die today.

Many hope for an easy death, maybe in their sleep–but that’s not going to happen to us.

The third man could only mock, he was afraid, and I suppose he just echoed those Pharisees who didn’t really understand. But I knew better. I knew who this other man was, I had heard all the stories. Deep down I knew that this man on the center cross was the Messiah.

A crowd had gathered to watch us die. The Romans in their wonderful ingenuity had made a sign that they nailed above Jesus’ head, and it declared to everyone that Jesus was “the king of the Jews.” Even as he was dying, they found a way to malign him and irritate the crowd.

The other man being crucified continued to mock Jesus, and it infuriated me.

Why I defended him I don’t know for sure.

But I understood. Jesus was murdered out of the envy and jealousy of the Pharisees. He didn’t deserve to die like this, but He was hated, and who can confront these religious men without becoming a victim. Jesus had repeatedly crossed the line, so now they were now putting him to death. It seemed evil was really winning today.

I saw the soldiers throwing dice for Jesus’ clothes. He was now being mocked by them as well, even as He was dying on a brutal cross.

But all of a sudden it all made perfect sense.

He really was the Messiah, and these bastards were killing him. Crucifixion was starting to work on me now. I began to choke on my words, and it was getting hard to breathe.

“Jesus… please remember me. When your kingdom comes, please let me be a part of it.”

And as beaten as He was, He managed to turn and look directly at me. They had whipped and brutalized Him, and yet He was still aware. His words were whispered now, but I understood. “I promise that today you will be with me in paradise.”

I was starting to spasm again.

But the horror of death had left me. Some time had passed, and I could hear his breathing stop. But for the first time, I had peace. They used a spear on Jesus, but he was already dead.

The soldiers now came to the two of us, and they were carrying an ax to break our legs. It all had to do with the coming festival, and the Pharisees wanted us dead. When they swung that ax I knew a pain that I could never describe. My own death came quickly after that.

I was suddenly standing in paradise, whole and complete, and loved.

Someone was standing before me. He was shining, and I knew he was powerful; stronger, and He was more glorious than anyone I had ever met. It was crazy but somehow I knew that it was the Lord Jesus. He had come to meet me. It’s funny, but I realized that somehow I really did belong. Me–a dirty rotten thief.

Jesus had promised me, pronouncing me righteous, me of all people. I suddenly had a joy that I could never explain. I really was a part of the Kingdom that was beyond anything I had ever known. I believed him and asked if somehow I could be part of his eternal rule.

I simply asked and He gave me everything.

“I am going to heaven just like the thief on the cross who said in that final last moment: “Lord remember me.”

Billy Graham

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Cover Art: “Christ on the Cross between Two Thieves,” by Peter Paul Rubens

The Giant Goliath, and Sexy Bathsheba

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I have wondered about this. It strikes me that there are two giants that David encountered in his walk with God. Granted, there are many other events and people that he experienced, obviously. But there are these two that stick out:

The Goliath showdown, and the Bathsheba fiasco.

These seem to be hinges or pivot points that would change the entire course of king David’s life, and his faith in God. They’re to be an encouragement and warning to us, as both are incredibly significant.

Goliath, 1 Samuel 17

This is a powerful chapter, for it reveals David’s spectacular faith in God. When the boy David killed Goliath it changed the entire future of Israel. One stone from his sling was all it took. Israel routed the Philistine army. David’s faith was the spark that made victory real.

David became a hero that day, and quickly ascended into Saul’s favor. It was both a military and a political development that Israel needed and king Saul welcomed it, the kingdom thrived. The boy David became the man of the hour, a national hero which everyone talked about.

I’d like to point out that David had already been anointed by Samuel to be the next king. This, combined with David’s celebrity status pushed king Saul over the edge–Saul developed a deep resentment that became insanity. David handled this adroitly, fleeing into the wilderness (with his faith) for years.

Bathsheba, 2 Samuel 11

At this point David is now king and is fighting the Ammonites. The Israelites were besieging Rabbah, the capital city of that country, and it seems like it’s an intense battle. But interestingly enough, David remained in Jerusalem. (And I can’t figure out why.) David can’t sleep so he paces the rooftop and it’s then things get crazy.

David spies Bathsheba who is cleansing herself from her monthly cycle. She is a very beautiful woman, and king David inquires about her. He lusts after her which results in him more or less raping her, commiting adultery and then murdering her husband. This is all very disturbing.

Bathsheba is the wife of Uriah, one of David’s mighty men of proven valor. He has him murdered after committing adultery with her.

(2 Sam. 11:14-15.)

When David had sex with Bathsheba it set in motion the ugliest chain of events imaginable. It seems that up to now David has taken the intiative of events, and then, after this great evil, his story shifts and for the rest of his life he becomes acted upon, a “victim.” He reacts, but doesn’t act anymore.

For the rest of his life he will struggle. All because of lust.

In 2 Samuel 12 David is confronted by a prophet for these sins. Samuel speaks with a parable that penetrates David’s heart. The king responds, “he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity,” (v. 6). And interestingly enough, David would indeed pay fourfold. There would be four major incidents after this that he would now face.

Summary

David faced two “giants” in his walk with God. They were very different but both life altering. He killed Goliath but was not able to destroy his lust with Bathsheba.

Sometimes one “giant” is not enough. It would be nice if that was the case. David walked in victory for a period of time, but failed both himself, his family and his kingdom. Lust always is an act of the will, a deliberate decision that destroys all that it touches. David would be forgiven, but the damage was already done.

There would be dire consequences for everyone.

I believe that our giants were meant to be slaughtered. That is their function and purpose for the faithful believer. There can be no compromise. They’ll take different forms and will often approach you in peculiar ways. Paul tells us to wear God’s armor in Ephesians 6:11-18. I don’t think that protection should be taken off–you dare not only wear it only on special occasions.

Brother, sister–you must be covered all the time.

King David is a lesson for us. There is tremendous pain for us if we deliberately choose to compromise with the giants in our lives. Some of you already understand this; others will. I promise you.

“Many of us suffer from temptations from which we have no business to suffer.”

    Oswald Chambers

Bryan Lowe

alaskabibleteacher.com

Deepen Your Repentance

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Two Psalms followed David’s return to God after his sin with Bathsheba, and murdering Uriah. The sins of adultery and murder are terrible and yet David finds forgiveness from God for both. He responds properly to Nathan’s hard word. King David was a warrior of renown and a talented Psalm writer and he put together two Psalms that would guide others.

Many years ago I used an overhead projector in a class. I had two transparencies, the first projected a map on a screen showing boundaries–the second laid over the top showed the movements of an invading army. They complimented each other to show a point. One laid on top of the other to make it clear what happened. (I realized I just dated myself–I’m old.)

You might say that’s how I want to teach Psalm 51 and Psalm 32. Both are David’s serious remarks on his repentance. They’re the same incident, but incredibly different. They both explain his repentance in contrasting ways.

You see that one is a psalm; the other is a maskil.

A psalm is a guide for worship, something musical sung from the knees—an acclamation of a joyful song. The other type is different; it’s called a maskil, which is something wise and reflective, thoughtful and understanding. To write a maskil takes time to pull one’s thoughts together and share seasoned instruction.

I’ve chosen v.v. 1-2 (both due to obvious constraints of brevity.)

Psalm 51

Psalm 51, To the choirmaster. A Psalm of David, when Nathan the prophet went to him, after he had gone in to Bathsheba.

“Have mercy on me, O God,
    according to your steadfast love;
according to your abundant mercy
    blot out my transgressions.
2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
    and cleanse me from my sin!“

__________

Psalm 32

Psalm 32, A Maskil of David.

“Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven,
    whose sin is covered.
2 Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity,
    and in whose spirit there is no deceit.“

Reading the two Psalms together like this, laid on top of each other, or, like two sides of a coin, gives us an idea of David’s repentance–an clear understanding and a real depth. How did he respond to God’s message from the prophet? How can we answer others when the Holy Spirit convicts us of sin?

We must see that repentance is a gift God gives to those He loves. We must communicate that same love to others, and we can only do this under the Holy Spirit’s direction.

Both a “subjective” psalm, and an “objective” maskil is necessary I think. They both are to become the daily practice of a believer, both communicate what is needful. One sings–the other teaches, but both should be done carefully.

Perhaps another way is to see the art and the science of it all. But a caveat here. Psalm 32 blends with the autobiographical theme just like Psalm 53 does. (See 32:2-5). It even seems the objective takes on a tear or two! I guess that’s how truth in God’s kingdom works?

Our theology needs tears, and our tears need theology.

(I hope this isn’t confusing.)

I want to encourage you to take your repentance even deeper. I want to see you stir up this beautiful gift. I will want to hear your song, and then to understand your reasons for singing so beautifully.

“The Christian who has stopped repenting has stopped growing.”

    A.W. Pink

alaskabibleteacher.com

Finding the Light

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“Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death, so that we would not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead.”

2 Corinthians 1:9

To be chronically ill often means living with awful frustration. We can’t do what we want, we are ‘trapped’ by a disease we never asked for, and we’re held hostage by our minds and bodies. We once had a job– a career… and our time was occupied by that. Suddenly our lives are turned upside down.

We wanted something else, anything more than being very sick.

I once was a pastor of a small church here in Alaska. I also taught Gospels, several years in a local Bible Institute. I loved ministry very much. They defined my identity and gave me purpose. I enjoyed helping people and teaching the Word. I endeavored to be faithful in the ministry. And I hope I did.

With the sudden onset of a brain tumor, followed up by a diagnosis of severe depression, my life more or less exploded. I had extensive memory loss. I knew I had to step out of the ministry. I simply could not function. It was a hard thing to leave it behind. (And I still miss it.)

My depression grew even more profound with the stillborn death of our third child just 3 days before her delivery. Things suddenly ground to a standstill as my wife and I tried to process all of this. I guess I just couldn’t understand and more or less just shut down. I was angry at God. I spent months in bed, unable to function.

Some people were true jewels.

Others were more or less mean and uncaring. (I quickly learned how to take the good with the bad.) I suppose I should have understood, but things were so tangled up inside me that I couldn’t verbalize a thing. But God knew all about me. He loved and never judged.

The post-op recovery following the tumor was an ordeal, as I had to learn many things all over again. A few years later I ended up on disability; I was unable to work, and my symptoms were so unpredictable. I dealt with profound depression and a solid dose of paranoia and fear.

I learned that meds can help, but they can’t fix the problem.

Sometimes the isolation seemed worse than the pain. We wonder why this is happening to us, and we hear lies about our worthiness or God’s goodness. Our value to others seems to be scuttled by our illness. We can feel cursed, forgotten, crippled by God, or even worse. (Maybe even irrevocably lost?)

Satan craves our spiritual destruction, and he snares unsteady souls.

I admit I have been slow to learn this– but God brings good things out of the dark. I’m embarrassed by my personal lack of acquiring all of this. Now I’m starting to learn finally, and I want His words to reflect these truths.

“We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.”

2 Corinthians 4:7

This light will shine, and the treasure is found in clay vessels. Brokenness only means the treasure is now seen clearly. It’s important to note–jewels lose none of their value by being surrounded by broken clay. Our weaknesses are being turned into goodness, understanding, and love for our brothers and sisters.

Troubles of many varieties will pay us a visit. Count on it.

No matter what their nature, God holds his people in place while everything else is falling apart. But for the broken believer, there is another dimension; we will finally triumph. The tragedies we’ve had to endure only supplement our faith. We will stand– because He makes us stand.

“We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed.”

2 Corinthians 4:8-9

alaskabibleteacher.com