
All are welcome for part 2 of this study. Tonight we consider the grace of God through Naomi, and how God drew in Ruth through her.

All are welcome for part 2 of this study. Tonight we consider the grace of God through Naomi, and how God drew in Ruth through her.

Thesis 90 We must pray for one another.
It may well be the most common lie told by Christians, “I’ll pray for you.” The reason is pretty simple. First, we know we’re supposed to pray for each other. Second, we’re not very good at praying. Third, we look good when we claim we’ll pray, and those to whom we make this promise have no way of knowing if we keep it. The One to whom we pray, however, knows every idle word and every idle promise. We make fun of the Pharisees for praying loud and public prayers to win the acclaim of others. We, on the other hand, promise loudly and publicly to say prayers we don’t even say.
I am not encouraging prayer for one another because I’ve bought into some silly notion that God is moved by numbers. It is a blasphemous thought to imagine our loving Father in heaven keeping a tally of how many have prayed for this or that and waiting until some magic number is hit before He acts. The prayers of a righteous man availeth much, not the prayer of righteous men. I would argue instead that the value of spreading our prayer requests far and wide, and the value of taking up those requests from far and wide is found in what these prayers can do for the one praying them.
When I pray for myself, as I ought to do, it is easy for my focus to stay more on the giver of the prayer than the receiver. That is, my focus can remain on me. When, however, I devote time, energy, attention to the needs of others, suddenly my focus turns away from myself to two far more important foci- the one in the need and the One who meets the need. Praying for others gets me off myself in a way that praying for myself might not.
Second, my prayers for others remind me of the love my Father has for others. Peace, love, community among believers comes less when we work harder at being better, more when we remember better that we and our sins are all covered by the blood of the Lamb, that we are all the beloved children of the Father. If the whole of the body of Christ were more concerned about others than themselves, good things will surely follow.
Last, praying for others is what I’m supposed to do. As with all of God’s law, obedience redounds to our own well being. God’s law isn’t a set of restrictions used to measure our commitment. It is instead an invitation to joy.
What should we be praying for each other? That we would walk faithfully with our Lord. That we would embrace more fully the grace He has already given us. That we would put to death our own flesh. That He would use us to manifest His own glory and the glory of His kingdom. That we, His bride, would be a crown of glory to Him, our husband and King.

The gospel. Which is the most important thing any child could ever learn from any parent. Of all the titanic evangelical battles my father participated in, whether it was over the ordination of women in the early 70s, the inerrancy of Scripture soon afterwords, gender neutral Bible translations as the 20th century drew to a close, none was of greater import, nor a deeper passion of his than the battle over the gospel sparked by Evangelicals and Catholics Together in 1994 or the sundry iterations that followed on its heels.
My father’s doctoral studies came under Dr. GC Berkouwer at the Free University of Amsterdam. Just before my father’s arrival as a student Dr. Berkouwer had served as a visiting scholar to the meetings we know as Vatican II. While in Rome he roomed with Hans Kung. His zeal for justification by faith alone was strengthened by his time at the council, and he brought that back to Amsterdam. I was blessed to attend the public meetings that brought forth the Cambridge Declaration and to sit in on countless conversations with its architects. I was blessed to do the whole of my seminary systematics classes with my father. I was blessed to have him lead my own doctoral studies, which were, not coincidentally, heavy in reading Berkouwer.
None of which begins to explain why I answer the way I have. For all the blessings that came to me being at my father’s feet as a student, they are nothing compared to being as his feet as a son. What my father believed and taught as an academic was sound, biblical and important. What he passed on to me as a father, however, was sound, biblical and life shaping. He taught me not just that men are totally depraved, but that I am a sinner. He taught me not just that Jesus died for our sins, but that He died for us, sinners. He taught me that I am not only forgiven, but adopted and loved. This he taught by forgiving me and loving me.
In my book, Growing Up (with) RC I recount the last “conversation” I had with him. He was in the coma he would not come out of. I told him a secret, the real reason I have always so desperately wanted him to be proud of me. It wasn’t so he would feel good about me, but that he would feel good about himself, that he would know what a wonderful father he was. He lost his father when he was just 17. When I turned 17 it seemed like he lost all confidence in himself as a father, not having his father’s example to follow. I told him how sad I was that he was going home while I was under a cloud of shame. But I reminded him that his calling as a father wasn’t to help me be a great man, but to point me to the one Great Man. Though the world and that which is of the world might tsk, tsk when I come to mind, while some think I’m the apple that, falling from the tree, swirled away in a hurricane only to land in another hemisphere he was a success because in my failures I knew to Whom I must turn. He taught me that the only comfort in my life and in his death is Jesus Christ. That’s the gospel he taught me, the one that for all its complexity comes down to “Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

The simplicity of God is a doctrine that provides a rather useful fence. The perfections of God are, of course, worthy of our excitement. Their infinity is, of course, staggering. But the simplicity of God is that place where these infinite perfections show themselves to be one where the glorious colors come together in a blinding white. Whatever else we delightfully affirm about God, we must affirm that He is one.
It is the very point of the doctrine of simplicity, however, that we don’t diminish one attribute when we remember another. We have misunderstood simplicity if, as we wax rhapsodic over the love of God, we throw a wet blanket over the party by remembering, “Well, He is also a God of wrath, after all.” The wrath of God doesn’t restrain the love of God, nor does the love of God restrain His wrath. Rather, in a profound way, they are one and the same thing.
There are some fairly obvious ways that we see this. In Psalm 2 we see the wrath of God coming for a specific reason, because the kings of the earth will not kiss the Son. The love of the Son is what provokes the wrath of the Father. We see much the same thing on the road to Damascus, as Jesus accuses Saul, “Why dost thou persecute Me?” Christ’s loving union with the Bride brings wrath on Saul. And in turn, that wrath brings forth love as Saul becomes Paul, a part of the Bride.
Love is universally loved. We who belong to the King rightly celebrate His love for us. But those outside the camp do not stay outside the camp because of a self-conscious rejection of love. Those who think the lost are lost because they have trouble accepting love have been accepting too many foolish bromides from pop psychologists. The very creatures that the lost create, in their rejection of the Creator, are characterized by love. One can safely finish the idolater’s sentence, when he begins, “Well, my god is a god of … .” It’s love, every time. Have you ever heard someone object, when we tell them to repent and believe on the Lord Jesus, “Well, I’m repulsed by your God that forgives the repentant. My god is a god of raging, irrational fury.” No. Everyone loves love.
But while love is not diminished by wrath, a love that excludes wrath is not a biblical love. The love clamored for by the lost is a wrathless love. But the love they crave is just unknown. While there is, rightly understood, a universal love of God that includes even those who will be damned, this love is a simple love, one that includes all that God is. There is no wrathless love that comes from God.
The Bible tells us that God causes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust. We find there what some theologians call “common grace.” God acts kindly to all men living. We all need to remember this. When we, or others, in trying to describe their particular anguish describe their situation as “a living hell,” they do not understand the patient love of God. Any suffering experienced on this earth, save for the passion of Christ, is a suffering mitigated by His love, a suffering that is less severe than what is due, a suffering less severe than hell. But even the most wicked among us do not live their earthly lives exclusively in agony. Some unbelieving mothers genuinely rejoice when blessed with a child. Sometimes unbelievers win the Super Bowl and are genuinely happy about it. Even the heathen in the remotest, most desolate part of the world sometimes sit down to a favorite meal and feel real joy in eating it. Common love is common, love, and real.
Common love, or the universal love of God, however, cannot be separated from common wrath. Because God is one, a simple being, you cannot wrap your arms around His love and miss the wrath. The Lord our God, the Lord is One. For the wrath of God is revealed against all unrighteousness, including the unrighteousness of ingratitude. The common love of God is connected with the common wrath of God right here, where Paul tells us of all natural men, “For although they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks to Him …” (Rom. 1:21a). Though the lost will receive the loving gifts of God, they will neither honor Him nor thank Him, and so they will earn His eternal wrath.
God’s love is not only inseparable from His wrath, but it is equally bound together with His sovereignty. That is, when God sends the rain to the unjust, He does so knowing that the unjust will not honor Him. But this doesn’t frustrate God. First, He planned it that way. And second, He planned it that way because of one more connection between love and wrath — God loves His wrath. He delights to manifest the infinite perfection of His wrath just as much as His love, because they are one thing.
This, in turn, must inform how we look at the world around us. The problem with the broader culture, that place where they love love, isn’t that they’ve embraced part of the truth, and that our job as sound Christians is to teach them the hard parts. Rather we have to understand that the love they love is no more love than the god they worship is God. They are wrong on all counts. And unless they embrace the true and living God, the God of love that is wrath, of wrath that is love, of both that are manifest sovereignly, they will perish. Biblical love requires that we tell the world that their love of their love will earn them only His wrath.

Trolls, I am convinced, know they are trolls. They make no pretense of making any sense. They are self-consciously jerking us around which makes them more nasty than ignorant. There are, however, some whose hostility is genuine but so powerful that it blinds them to their blindness. They make as much sense as trolls, but they mean it. They are more ignorant than nasty.
Consider, if you will, financing the kingdom of God. I have heard the argument made, when “tickets” to a Sunday morning service are on sale that the gospel should not be for sale. Well and good. Hear, hear. I’ve also heard, on the other hand, complaints about churches and ministries asking for donations. “Why are they always begging for money?” I get that there are some, especially but by no means exclusively among prosperity preachers, who live pretty high on the hog. But, isn’t how money is spent a separate issue from how it is raised? Some people even complain about the lifestyles of those who earn their wealth in the marketplace.
It seems to me that if we object to charging people when we bring the Word of God to bear on their lives and we object to raising funds through donations to finance bringing the Word of God to bear on people’s lives that our real objection is to bringing the Word of God to bear on people’s lives. It seems to me that what we really want is to be served without being reminded of the need to serve those who serve. We resent that it costs money to do the work of the ministry.
My father used to ask this question- do you know what it takes to do a million dollars worth of ministry? His answer- a million dollars. It is true that Jesus feeds thousands with a few loaves and fish. He brings forth coins from the mouth of a fish. It’s true that silver and gold Peter had none but such as he had he gave. It is also true, however, that Paul had this to say:
My defense to those who examine me is this: Do we have no right to eat and drink? Do we have no right to take along a believing wife, as do also the other apostles, the brothers of the Lord, and Cephas? Or is it only Barnabas and I who have no right to refrain from working? Who ever goes to war at his own expense? Who plants a vineyard and does not eat of its fruit? Or who tends a flock and does not drink of the milk of the flock? …For it is written in the law of Moses, “You shall not muzzle an ox while it treads out the grain.” Is it oxen God is concerned about? Or does He say it altogether for our sakes? For our sakes, no doubt, this is written, that he who plows should plow in hope, and he who threshes in hope should be partaker of his hope. If we have sown spiritual things for you, is it a great thing if we reap your material things? (I Corinthians 4:4-7, 9-11).
There is nothing new under the sun. There were in Paul’s day those who were in it for the money. And there were those who accused others falsely of being in it for the money. The same is true in our own day. Support your pastor. Support the ministries that have been a help to you. And give thanks.

I have written before on the difference between knowledge and wisdom. The two are deeply related, but they are nonetheless distinct. You can have knowledge without wisdom, but not wisdom without knowledge. James tells us “You believe that there is one God. You do well. Even the demons believe—and tremble!” (2:19). The demons have the knowledge that there is one God. But they hate what they know, and they react to their knowledge with folly, with an angry fear.
Peter, on the other hand, reacted well to some news he likely didn’t much care for. Jesus, having drawn great crowds, having miraculously fed the five thousand, begins to speak on man’s inability to come to Him without the prior regenerating work of the Holy Spirit. In a word, He begins to talk about predestination. Predictably the crowds thin swiftly-
“From that time many of His disciples went back and walked with Him no more. Then Jesus said to the twelve, ‘Do you also want to go away?’ But Simon Peter answered Him, ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life’” (John 6: 66-68).
Wisdom is recognizing that even if you don’t like what you hear Jesus saying, that you still need Jesus, there is no hope without Him. You can almost hear the gears grinding in Peter’s mind. He too sees the crowd dwindling. He knows why- he too likely bristled under Jesus’s mysterious words. But as Peter mulls this over he remembers his ultimate need, and that this mystery speaking Jesus is the only one with the answer.
Wisdom then is the right response to the knowledge that we have. It is a refusal to be ruled by our emotions. The fool is the one who, wanting the world to be different than it is, determines to live in light of his wish. The wise man is the one who sees the world as it is and determines to live in light of reality, however he might feel about it.
The spirit of romanticism runs deep. It sees our emotions as the deepest reality, and insists reality adjust. If our feelings are the ultimate reality then they are also the ultimate ethic. That is, our feelings are their own justification. Like the demons, however, we find it all too easy to feel wrongly. Because we are angry at our brother we interpret his behavior in the worst possible light. Because we support our favorite candidate, we interpret his behavior in the best possible light. Because we are down we lose sight of the promises of God, and have the audacity to feel abandoned. Because we enjoy our sin we forget that He is holy.
Wisdom then shows itself as emotional discipline. Such doesn’t mean we don’t feel strongly. Instead it commands that we feel strongly. But accurately. Wisdom is hating all that God hates, loving all that God loves. It means knowing the limits of our knowledge, and withholding judgment until the facts are in. May God grant us the wisdom to love and seek wisdom. Jesus is wisdom’s name.