Adding value is what life’s about.

We all seem to be wired to do that in some way even when we’re not thinking about it.  Ever since the beginning, the created man has been charged with maintaining and protecting things of worth:

“Then the Lord God took the man, whom He formed, and He put him in the garden to work it and guard [it]”  [Gen. 1:15, translated from the Septuagint]

Later, He rescued the people He chose and led them out of bondage into a new land.  Then He set them apart from the rest of the world by establishing a culture which was meant to revolve not only around Himself, but also around the idea that the real worth of community was realized in the citizen’s ability to create value.  This was a radical paradigm shift in socioeconomics, assigning as much significance to the value-creating process as it did the result.

Sure, other civilizations recognized the merit of personal relationships at that time too, but perhaps never had the worth of the individual been so advanced as when the Lord established His nation Israel.

And that’s actually part of what makes the Good News so good.

Because as a partaker of the New Covenant, my value as a redeemed man will never diminish. Having been sealed in Christ with the Holy Spirt of promise, I choose to serve the living God with every confidence in His pledge.

[What does it mean to be “redeemed?”  see: Different fruit, Same Good News.]

That being said, the disciple of Jesus Christ actually is charged to add value—not just to himself, but rather to the person of Christ and to God’s kingdom.  Both Jesus and the apostolic authors taught that He shall indeed reward good works in proportion to their value when He returns.  They often referred to these rewards as an inheritance.

[What is an “inheritance?”  see: Birthright Through Redemption]

Unfortunately, this is a concept which is rarely taught or preached about in His congregations today.  But that’s no excuse for missing out on the very best God has to offer those He’s called for His purposes.

Adding value to God’s kingdom isn’t just about generous tithing or donating to the Summer youth camp fund.  In fact, just becoming a faithful disciple of Christ is the most valuable thing a man can do.  At that point, the sky’s the limit.

Whether it’s on the job, studying the Bible with other men, or meeting to encourage one another, every disciple has the potential to increase value.

What will it take for him to realize that?

Nothing cripples the human spirit more than forced isolation.

Sure, we all need our space from time to time, but our lives are only made complete through physical contact.  Nobody ever had to tell us this.  We practice it instinctively.  If that ability is taken away or forfeited, all that makes living worthwhile soon begins to erode.

That’s a fact based on empirical evidence.  Look around.

If someone would’ve tried to convince me last January that almost every congregation of the Body of Christ would soon choose not to meet on Sundays because some public official said they couldn’t, I would’ve laughed.  I would’ve argued that Jesus Christ’s faithful disciples would never surrender anything to Caesar that wasn’t his.

But apparently I’m wrong.

It appears that there are enough good people in our congregations willing to ignore an obvious Biblical principle not to diminish the value of having regular fellowship even though foolish restrictions are being imposed upon them which have no basis in legitimate public health concerns.

Now I’m willing to bet King Nebuchadnezzar didn’t require face masks.  But when he ordered the ancient prophet Daniel’s three friends to bow down to an idol, their response was typical of men who never doubted that right decisions were usually tough ones:

“O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to give you an answer concerning this matter.  If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the furnace of blazing fire and He will deliver us out of your hand, O king.  But even if He does not, let it be known to you, O king, that we are not going to serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.”  [Dan. 3:16-18]

Did these men fear anything?

I’ve always presumed that someday, an attempt would be made to physically force Christ’s people away from their sanctuaries at gunpoint.  But I never thought I’d witness the Lord’s congregation’s allowing fear to consume them.  It’s the Great Deceiver’s weapon of choice, yet some of us are wearing it on our sleeves.

The author of the letter to the Hebrews made no exception for either ignorance or cowardice when he reminded the readers about the importance of their meeting together regularly:

“…and let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the day drawing near.”  [Heb. 10:24-25]  [my emphasis]

So, is “having church” a Biblical mandate?  You bet it is.

There’s absolutely no substitute for Jesus Christ’s disciples coming together in the flesh to worship.  If each of us is essential to the function of His Body as a whole, can we accomplish our tasks from six feet away?  Can we pull it off on the internet?  How can we experience [or offer] an encouraging touch or a much needed hug or handshake using Zoom?

How can I comfort a broken heart if I can’t see the tears behind the mask?!!

The physicality of human relationships is what makes them a created miracle.

Who’s willing to suffer to have them again?

It’s interesting how we perceive our choices.

What one man considers as an opportunity to exploit his own flesh, another sees as an opportunity to subdue it.  Then there’s everything in between.  I’m convinced most of us are comfortable there.

My wife and I recently watched a documentary about the later years of Jeffrey Epstein’s life. Having witnessed parts of the story in real time last year, I expected to confirm what most of the world had already decided—that this guy was a real scumbag.

I felt safe enough sitting on my side of the television screen.  Sure, I fall off the wagon sometimes, but I’m not a pervert.  I was grateful that, because I belonged to Jesus Christ, I was the type of guy who was essentially incapable of committing sin on the same level as Jeffrey Epstein.

Complacency consumed me.

[Are Christ’s people immune to sin?  see: Common Sense and the Slipperiest of Slopes]

But, in the days that followed, I repeatedly sought to reinforce that conclusion.  I still needed a way to reassure myself that I could never even be tempted to indulge in the type of sexual depravity he’d been accused of.  I was looking for a magic bullet. Yet, even as a man who places a high value on righteous behavior, I eventually had to conclude that I had nothing on Jeffrey Epstein when it came to resisting evil.

Nothing.

In a frantic attempt to verify the moral safety net below me, I didn’t notice the big holes in it. I’d forgotten that I can never effectively prevail over my male impulses by dismissing the power they can have over me.  And since I have to live with the enemy in this world, I’d better learn to rely on more than just the leverage of my human will.

[How can I do that?  see: Marking the Subtle Red Flags]

The struggle to live faithfully to Christ’s commands is a lifelong commitment to endure in a conflict against the Evil One in this age.  And even though there’s plenty of encouragement along the way, immunity to temptation is offered to no man.  [see: 1Cor. 10:13]

There is, however, His promise.  I have the reassurance that the Spirit will lead me away from the battles I can’t win.  But, if I’m satisfied to cut deals with my flesh instead of subduing it, then no amount of guidance will be able to keep me out of the fight.

I’m gonna’ walk right back into it.

As a young boy, being found blameless was a condition I often sought desperately.

The older I got though, the more blameless I became.  Such was the learning curve of accountability.

But a few years ago, I discovered that being blameless was important to the New Testament authors.  Now that was interesting to me because, as one who’d been saved by my faith in Jesus Christ, I couldn’t understand why that term should even be relevant to me.

But that was based on what I’d been taught—not anything I’d read. 

For example, wouldn’t I already be “blameless” if I’ve been “washed in the blood of the Lamb?”  If Christ has rescued me from the slave market of sin [or saved me] and then declared me righteous because of my belief in Him [or justified me] and is setting me apart from the rest of the world as part of a growing process [or is sanctifying me], how much more blameless can I be?

So, the question was actually, “What does it mean for Christ’s disciple to be blameless?”

There are four similar Greek words translated as “blameless” in the New Testament.  The most commonly used is the adjective ἄμωμος [âmōmôs], meaning blameless, faultless or without blemish.  In his letter to the saints and faithful brethren in Christ who [were] at Colossae, the apostle Paul even suggested that the likelihood of them being presented blameless one day before Christ had a condition:

“And although you were formerly alienated and hostile in mind, engaged in evil deeds, yet He has now reconciled you in His fleshly body through death, in order to present you before Him holy and blameless [ἄμωμος] and beyond reproach— if indeed you continue in the faith firmly established and steadfast, and not moved away from the hope of the gospel that you have heard, which was proclaimed in all creation under heaven, and of which I, Paul, was made a minister.”  [Col. 1:21-23  [my emphasis]

So, since I’m able to read, I can see that blamelessness isn’t just a fringe benefit of my redemption. From a Biblical perspective, it’s intended to be a goal.  And that goal is accomplished by the Holy Spirit’s sanctification process working in me combined with the perseverance I demonstrate in keeping my faith intact.

[What’s my “redemption?” see: Different fruit, Same Good News.]

More specifically though, the ability to remain blameless rests in my willingness to draw near to the throne of Grace, to my High Priest, Jesus Christ.

He’s the only One who can make me spotless—again and again and again.

[see: Not Clean? …Not Good.]

I used to get anxious singing Amazing Grace.

It was all because of a couple of lines at the end of the second verse: “…how precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed.”  

They reminded me that I apparently lacked something every other faithful believer in Jesus Christ seemed able to share—that is, an explicit personal account of his spiritual conversion.  In other words, everyone who’d been “saved” seemed to be able to recall that experience at a specific place and point in time.

[What does it actually mean to be “saved?”  see: Different fruit, Same Good News.]

As a result, every time I heard the testimony of a brother describing the precise time he decided to follow Christ, I questioned the reality of my ever having actually made that same decision myself, since I couldn’t recall exactly when it was.

Every idea I could think of to fix the situation only seemed to deepen my feelings of inadequacy as a partaker of His divine nature.  I couldn’t bring myself to ask anybody if my faith in Christ was real, given its nebulous origin.  I was afraid of the answer.

So, I kept things to myself.

But even though I can’t remember that “…hour I first believed,” there was a moment in time I became convinced that it didn’t really matter.  And I think it’s worth mentioning here that I was never persuaded to that end because of an answered question.

In fact, I never needed to ask, because, by learning what Bible text actually does say, I was also able to determine what it doesn’t say.

[How did I learn what Bible text actually does say? see: Inductive Study? Sounds Like a Plan.]

That’s the remarkable thing about gaining knowledge.  Data isn’t just compiled, confidence is also increased.

And confidence is critical for me to develop as a disciple of Jesus Christ.  For how can I effectively wield the gifts God has granted me without it?   Or by what means does the hesitant man encourage his brother?

More importantly though, if I can’t secure enough confidence in my own ability to understand the what the Scriptures say, it’s highly unlikely I’ll possess the wisdom to discern who actually can.

It’s serious enough for someone else to challenge my faith with a baseless claim.

So why would I allow myself to do it?