I’ve got enough to be concerned about without trying to manipulate the climate.

As part of the human race, I’m obligated to abide in the Lord’s directive given to the first man Adam—that is, to “…be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it, and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over every living thing that moves on the earth.” [Gen. 1:28]  [my emphasis]

But if I consider myself to be a faithful disciple of Jesus Christ, I should be able to recognize the difference between acting as a good steward of the earth and trying to control it. Because to think that I’m actually able to alter the progression of the Created order is the epitome of arrogance.  

Not only that, ungodly pride hones the cutting edges of unbelief, allowing them to slice deep into the fibrous bonds which sustain Christian fellowship.  And when these tendons of His Body begin to unravel, its members become vulnerable to a host of other worldly fables.

The result is chaos in a Body whose purpose is to serve Its Head and one another by remaining steadfast and confident in the Lord’s promises, and to be a beacon of light to the fearful, dithering masses as well.

So where does the Bible confirm the durability of seasons and climate?

How about the Lord’s promise to Noah immediately after the flood waters receded:

“While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease.” [Gen. 8:22]  [my emphasis]

This isn’t a verse that can be easily extracted from its proper context.  It was a Divine proclamation which coincided [somewhat] with the covenant God made between Noah and all successive generations that water never again shall “become a flood to destroy all flesh.”

If I believe what the Lord says about not flooding the Earth again, is it too much to include His guarantee of seasonal consistency too, or do I need more rainbows to convince me?

l’d say we either believe what the Scriptures teach, or we don’t.  It’s impossible to pick and choose.

C.S. Lewis once made a profound observation exposing the hypocrisy of Biblical cherry picking.  He noted that one cannot simply acknowledge Christ’s teaching as true and useful yet deny His Deity at the same time.

The reason is obvious.  Jesus said He and the Father were One—i.e., He was God.  If He was God, nothing but truth could come out of His mouth.  If he wasn’t God, he was a lunatic, because He said he was God.  How can I believe anything a lunatic says?

It defies logic to have it both ways.

There’s plenty of empirical evidence to suggest that the Earth’s climate is cyclical to some degree.  Temperature and weather patterns have been documented to fluctuate—sometimes even drastically over time.

But the Lord has promised me cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night as long as the earth remains.

And the last time I looked, it’s still here.

Just finding myself on the right side of the good fight isn’t always enough.

Knowing why I’m there is just as important.

If I say that I’ve set myself apart from the depravity this world reveres, I need to be able to defend that position with an attitude of love and respect for every form of life created in God’s image.

If I can’t do that, the world will see me as an intolerant bigot rather than a soldier of truth, and truth is the only effective weapon in the battle against lies.

The word “tolerant” is defined in The Oxford Dictionary as “…showing willingness to allow the existence of opinions or behavior that one does not necessarily agree with.”  So, based on this definition, wasn’t the man Jesus Christ on record as having been about as tolerant to choices as anyone could be?

He clearly rebuked His people’s behavior and warned them to repent because of the consequences it would bring.  Yet, the Biblical record reveals that He never threatened, physically punished or verbally abused anyone on an individual level because of their behavior or opinions.

He sought, rather, to enlighten.  He knocked on the door of the human will, pleading with it to engage the obvious. [see: Rom. 1:18-32]

Interestingly enough though, none of the gospel accounts recorded a narrative where His authority to moralize the dialog was challenged.  For example, apparently nobody attempted to legitimize his own homosexual passions or lifestyle during the course of any conversation with Him—nor anybody else’s!

Do you think maybe they were simply too ashamed to do something like that?

Could it have been because, whether they realized it or not, they were literally looking Truth in the face?

Is it not possible then, that, because the Person of Jesus Christ isn’t physically walking around today, dispensing His convicting grace of shame in the flesh, the world is much more at ease trying to re-define the boundaries of just about any form of perverted sexual conduct?

Or can someone explain to me why the shame of adultery remains a cultural scourge while that of homosexual behavior is often ballyhooed and given a pass?

The Bible tells us that Jesus grieved over the devastation He witnessed because of the deceitfulness of sin in this world.  He surely understood better than anyone that unchallenged lies metastasize and proliferate in innocent hearts and minds, leaving them vulnerable to “…being handed over to a depraved mind, to do those things which are not proper…”[Rom. 1:28]

In the same way, the challenge for Christ’s disciple today is identical to that of his Firstborn Brother.  I can’t always identify with another’s offenses before the Lord, nor can they with mine.  I can, however, relate personally to the brutal impact of sin’s deception—that is, how it will hand the reckless heart a shovel to dig its hole, only to scoop it back in with the dirt it produces.

With that in mind, I have to base any attempt to caution and encourage the shameless of this world with a sincere spirit of compassion and concern for their welfare—as well as their destiny.

It could be their shame is buried so deep they can’t see it anymore.  But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.

Somehow, they need to see the Truth in my face.

“Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God?  Do not be deceived.  Neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor homosexuals, nor thieves, nor the covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers, will inherit the kingdom of God.  Such were some of you, but you were washed, but you were sanctified, but you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God.”  [1Cor. 6:9-11]  [my emphasis]

It doesn’t take me long to get my fill of something.

That’s because everyone has a limit to what he can consume and digest, regardless of its palatability.  I’m sure Rod Serling understood this well.

As a teenager, I wasn’t necessarily a big fan of The Twilight Zone, but one episode is seared in my memory:  A criminal was killed in the line of work and “crossed over” into an endless cornucopia of luxury, women, booze and good fortune—all the things he sought diligently prior to his demise.  At some point, however, he grew weary of his monotonous excess and pled for mercy to an “angel” dressed in a white suit:

“I can’t do this anymore…I actually think I’d rather just…be in…you know…the other place!“

The angel [actor Burl Ives] responded with a hearty laugh and bellowed:

“This IS the other place!

So, when I first read the apostle Paul’s letter to “…the saints who [were] at Ephesus and who [were] faithful in Christ Jesus, the phrase “filled up into all the fullness of God” brought that ridiculous television episode to mind:

“For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in the heavens and on earth derives its name, that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man, for Christ to dwell in your hearts through faith, having laid a foundation [which is] rooted in love, in order that you might be strong enough to comprehend [along] with all the saints the love of Christ—[that is] the breadth and length and height and depth [of it], which goes beyond knowledge, in order that you might be filled up into all the fullness of God.”   [Eph. 3:14-19]  [my emphasis]

At the same time, though, I was just Biblically astute enough to realize that being “filled with God” could never be compared to overindulging in any fleshly aspiration.

So, I wondered…how much of God is really possible?

Not only that, it seemed unrealistic to assume that my Creator could somehow exist fully in me yet maintain His Holy Nature at the same time.  Eventually, though, I came to understand that every Biblical text has a context, and that context is built upon a holistic interpretation of surrounding sentences and key words.  And the key word in the quoted passage above is “love.”

Paul prayed that the faithful saints in Ephesus would, after having established a solid infrastructure of love, gain strength through the Holy Spirit.  He did this in the hope that they might acquire the needed strength to be able to both perceive and experience the true dimensions of that which would be otherwise incomprehensible—that is, the loving essence of the Christ and therefore the Father.

Aγάπη [âgâpāy, or agape] love is the contextual relationship to fullness here.  This Greek word is the marrow of a spiritual bone which both defines and sustains the Christian experience.  A body cannot live without marrow.  In the same way, the Body of Christ can’t fully experience the magnitude of His love without the life-giving blood in the agape marrow.

Just like carbohydrates, agape love never signals the brain that you’ve had enough.  But, unlike bean burritos and potato chips, agape love is healthy.

You really can’t have too much of it.

There’s a passage in the Bible that just won’t preach.

Maybe it’s because “the devil’s in the pronouns.”  After all, any pastor willing to provoke the flock to Scriptural literacy is bound to open up a can of worms.  And worms in the pews take valuable seating space away from itching ears wearing deep pockets.

I wonder if that’s what was on the apostle Paul’s mind when he wrote his second letter to “his beloved son, Timothy?“

“I solemnly testify before God and Christ Jesus, who is about to judge living and dead [at] His appearing and His reign:  Preach the word.  Be persistent in season [and] out of season.  Expose, rebuke, [and] encourage with all patience and instruction.  For [the] time shall come when they will not put up with sound teaching, but, they shall accumulate teachers for themselves according to their own desires, having an itch [for] hearing [something different], and they shall turn away from the hearing of truth and they shall wander away to myths.”  [2Tim. 4:1-4]  [my emphasis]

I had to stumble across these sentences on my own.  I’ve never heard anyone preach about them, teach about them, or bring them to my attention.  Yet, even when I first read them, the pronoun “they” seemed to spring up off the page as if it were in bold print.

So who were “they?”

I did a lot of speculating.  And since I’d always understood unholiness to be something found only outside of the Lord’s congregations, I was satisfied to reckon “them” to be there as well. But then, I found myself burdened with the tool of inductive knowledge.  As a result, I became helplessly aware of a troubling scenario Paul was laying out in the previous chapter:

“The Lord’s bond-servant must not be quarrelsome, but be kind to all, able to teach, patient when wronged, with gentleness correcting those who are in opposition, if perhaps God may grant them repentance leading to the knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, having been held captive by him to do his will.”  [2Tim. 2:24-26]  [my emphasis]

The sentences that followed pre-warned the readers of the repercussions for failing to “…expose, rebuke, [and] encourage with all patience and instruction.”  In such a case, there was only one course of action that could be taken:

“But realize this, that in the last days difficult times shall be present.  For men shall be lovers of self…holding [to a] form of godliness, [though] having denied its authority.  Have nothing to do [with] these [men].“  [2Tim. 3:1-2a, 5]  [my emphasis]

[What’s the “tool of inductive knowledge?”  see: Inductive Study? Sounds Like a Plan.]

If Paul wasn’t referring to certain members of the congregation in the church in Ephesus above, but rather pagans on the “outside,” would they really have been concerned about “holding” to any form of godliness?

I’m convinced that anybody who isn’t a little bit unsettled about what Paul wrote to Timothy here might very well be part of a problem rather than a solution.  He’s probably the same one who denies that money ever blows a sermon’s sails while he simultaneously helps to row his congregational ship into the waters of irrelevancy.

Look around.

Paul charged the “saints and faithful brethren [who were] in Christ at Colossae” to conduct themselves wisely around outsiders [Col. 4:5], yet reminded “the church of God which [was] at Corinth” that the Body of Christ was to administer to itself—exclusively:

“For what have I to do with judging outsiders? Do you not judge those who are within the church?” [1Cor. 5:12]

[Are Christ’s disciples never to “judge” one another?  see: The Second Biggest Lie.]

Having the confidence to make a judgement [or speaking the truth in love] is a necessary attribute for developing the skill to be able to “expose, rebuke, and encourage with all patience and instruction.”  But confidence doesn’t just fall out of the sky.

Timothy gained the confidence to do these things by knowing what the Scriptures actually said. [2Tim 3:14-15]

How do you gain yours?

What does it take to be bold?

If we could track the human thought processes during periods of crisis or apprehension, all roads would eventually lead back to one anticipated fear:  We become bold when we perceive something important to be at risk.

But how can I be bold if I’m not aware of any potential loss?

For example, as a member of Jesus Christ’s Body, is there really anything for me to lose?  My redemption is secure, having been “sealed” with Him. [Eph. 1:13]  As a result, I’ll always belong to God.

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

Even so, boldness is a crucial ingredient of faith that has been diminished over the centuries. And that’s a shame, because an essential part of the good news that Jesus taught His disciples was that they did indeed have something to lose if they weren’t gonna’ be bold about what they believed. [Matt. 10:16-39]

The author of the Hebrews letter had good reasons for encouraging the readers to be bold about “drawing near to the throne of grace.” [Heb. 4:16] .  While all forgiveness for the sins of mankind had already been accomplished, the context of this and a subsequent passage is clear: God’s only medium for cleansing has always been vested in the office of the High Priesthood, and since the day of His ascension up to the present day, Jesus Christ has been executing every function of that office:

“Therefore, brethren, having boldness for entering the holy places because of the blood of Jesus…and [having a] great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with [a] true heart, in full assurance of faith, having [our] hearts sprinkled [clean] from [an] evil conscience, and the body washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the profession of [our] hope without wavering, for He who promised [is] reliable…” [Heb. 10: 19, 21-23]  [my emphasis]

[παρρησία: boldness, confidence, frankness, public openness (of speech)]

[Why do I need to understand what the High Priesthood is?  see: Not Clean? …Not Good.]

“Let us hold fast…let us draw near…having boldness.”  To the readers who were Jewish converts of the First Century, gaining the confidence to draw near to God might have had them shaking in their sandals.  Yet, for those of us whose roots are not steeped in the rituals of Hebraic sacrificial statutes, our confidence is sown in shallower soil.

But even then, it has to grow, and it has to prevail in an environment surrounded by weeds. [Matt. 13:24-26]

The rewards of boldness are actually twofold.  One is the ability given to persevere in the battle to stay clean, which is the will of God.  But it’s also receiving the promise itself—a direct result of accomplishing His will:

“Therefore, do not throw away your boldness, which has great reward, for you all have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God, you might receive the promise.”  [Heb. 10:35-36]  [my emphasis]

[Promise?  What promise?  see:  A Better Hope of Perfection]

But then, if I think I have nothing to lose, why should I be bold?

I used to think the apostle Paul’s letter to the churches of Galatia was all about circumcision—perhaps the last word on whether or not Jesus Christ’s male disciples should continue to have “skin in the game.”

And, to some degree, it was.  But now it’s obvious that he was using the issue of circumcision here to force the readers to recognize a bigger problem:

“It was for freedom that Christ set us free, therefore keep standing firm and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery.”  [Gal. 5:1]

Being granted freedom is a condition that’s often misunderstood and subsequently misapplied.  At one time, I was a perfect example of one who turned Christ’s gift of freedom into every “opportunity for the flesh.” [Gal. 5:13]  In spite of being called to live in freedom from the bondage of sin, I still sought diligently to justify that calling through my own actions.

And even though I’ve never had to endure any arguments about circumcision, I’ve been known to engage in futile discussions about sabbath-keeping, ritual washings and congregational membership—even exactly how many times I need to forgive someone!

As a result, I was persuaded to bear every fabricated burden that originated from the pulpit or from well-meaning friends.

It never occurred to me that there was nothing more I could do to make myself any more deserving to be free than what Jesus Christ had already done for me.  In fact, I was unaware that, by trying to supplement His sacrificial work on the cross, I was diminishing it!

And that’s just asking for trouble. As adults, we learn to get over other people stealing our glory from time to time.  However, I have a feeling our Lord Jesus won’t be so accommodating if I was alway trying to steal His in this age.

Here’s another thought.

Every minute I spend attempting to validate my freedom to walk in the Spirit through my own devices is a minute wasted in Christ’s service. It’s one I can’t spend laying down my life for a brother.  More importantly, every burden I put on myself is one I have to saddle up on him as well.

I wonder how that’s gonna’ work out?

But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not carry out the desire of the flesh.  [Gal. 5:16]

A tough thought is a hard dog to keep under the porch.

I’m sure a lot of psychoanalysts would say that’s a good thing. Even so, we always kick that mutt back under there when he sticks his head out.

Most thoughts don’t need to be analyzed and categorized.  But, if I claim to be a disciple of Jesus Christ, the ones that direct my behavior ought to be forcibly aligned with a moral objective.  The apostle Paul called that “taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ.” [2Cor. 10:5]

This sounds like sound enough advice. But how do I actually accomplish it?

Maybe I could envision it the way Paul did.  In his second letter to the church of God which [was] at Corinth, with all the saints who [were] throughout Achaia, he recognized the vulnerability of his fleshly existence to the readers.  But even though he lived in the flesh, he chose not to live according to the flesh. [2Cor. 10:3]

[σάρξ:  flesh, physical body; human nature, earthly descent]

I believe this is a distinction that’s crucial for Christ’s disciple to both grasp and demonstrate. Paul understood that battles waged for control over human flesh could never be won solely through the efforts of that flesh.  His weapons of conquest were not devices of the flesh, but instruments of Divine competence.  Translated literally from the Greek text, they were “…powerful in God toward the destruction of fortresses.” [2Cor. 10:4]

And here’s some more good news.

God’s not just powerful.  He also has the biggest guns.

His methods of warfare transcend the limits of human acumen and imagination.  By agency of His Spirit Who dwells in me, I can choose not to be intimidated and held captive by the barrage of wicked, dangerous thoughts that constantly attack my fleshly conscience.

In fact, I can even turn the table on them.  I can take them as hostages and hold them in custody instead.  If I choose to be led by the Spirit, then I’m obligated to rely on His jurisdiction to either acquit or convict them. [2Cor. 10:5; Gal. 5:24-25]  I can also confidently force every thought through reliable filters available to me, such as the Written Word or the wisdom of a brother.

Living obediently to Jesus Christ—or choosing to be led by the Spirit—provides a network of effective defense mechanisms to combat the destructive forces of sin in this age.  But every line of defense originates in the knowledge of His commandments.

Each concept, each plan, and each desire must be squared with His or it has to be kicked back under the porch before it sinks it teeth into my flesh.

Why?

Because entertaining suspicious thoughts is risky business:

“But each one is tempted when he is carried away and enticed by his own lust. Then when lust has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and when sin is accomplished, it brings forth death.”  [Ja. 1:14-15]

A captive thought is a controlled thought.