And he said, “O man greatly loved, fear not, peace be with you; be strong and of good courage.” And as he spoke to me, I was strengthened and said, “Let my lord speak, for you have strengthened me.”
– Daniel 10:19

We are sinful. We know it. We can’t hide from it. We can’t shake it. We want to, but we can’t. So we create methods of sin management. We build moats around our castles and keep the draw bridges up. But, no matter how tightly we secure the ropes and how forcefully we command that the bridge not be let down, somehow, before we even realize it, we’re invaded by an army of friendly looking devils. Once inside they ravish us. They destroy our wills. They cater to our flesh and our flesh trades our righteousness in for a good time. Before we know it we welcome them into our castle and give them the seat of honor at the table. We make friends with them. And then, after the party ends and the torches burn out for the night, we’re left with guilt. It over takes us and we long for comfort.

So, when we find out that we aren’t good sin managers as we previously thought what do we do? Often we vow to never do it again. We know it’s a lie the moment we say it but we say it still. Perhaps we’ll take a week to feel as guilty as possible about our actions all the while thinking we’re atoning for it through our guilt feelings. Some of us drift into dark thoughts of God: maybe he really isn’t good, maybe he really does hate me, maybe he really is going to destroy me and send me to hell because of this. Others of us take our bodies to the whipping post. We rage inside at ourselves as if we ever had the ability to stave off sin in the first place. All of these are worthless attempts. After sin we have one refuge, one comfort, one reconciler: Jesus.

The moment after sin is in some ways the most important time. Because we hate our sin so much, we make a big deal of our sin. We dwell on it. We despise it, yes, but in some ways we give it an honor that it doesn’t deserve. We give it our attention. But, sin is not the point. Jesus who saves us from sin is the point. He deserves the honor. He deserves the attention. We don’t conquer sin by anything we do. We conquer sin by faith in Jesus. Therefore, when constructing your next castle, lay the traditional plans aside. Forget the drawbridge and don’t bother digging the moat. In fact, leave the roof off and the door unlocked. Don’t fear the devils. Not because they won’t come, but because they have no lasting power. Only Jesus has that.

And so when you sin next in that most painful, most embarrassing, most despicable way, hear the voice of your Savior from the prophet Daniel. “O man greatly loved, fear not, peace be with you; be strong and of good courage.” And let us like Daniel say, “Let my lord speak, for you have strengthened me.” Jesus loves us greatly. A love of that magnitude can do nothing less than strengthen us. The gospel’s message of the love of God doesn’t manage our sin for us; he takes it out back to the woodshed and handles it for us. All we have to do it walk with Jesus. He’ll take care of us – even when we continue to sin. He’s that good. We are greatly loved.

           ^[6] Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, ^[7] casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.

                                                                                               (1 Peter 5:6-7 ESV)

Is there a thought more comforting than the one that tells you someone cares for you? What else in this world are we seeking? Money comes and goes. Success is fleeting. Happy circumstances arise but end too soon. In the human condition we’re often teetering on the verge of exuberant joy or collapsing failure – it just depends on the day, perhaps even the hour. What then is greater than to know someone cares for you? Does your child care for you? Of what worth is his presence? Does your wife care for you? Of what value is her love? Does God care for you? Of what value is his attendance?

God has little reason to care for us. First, we are prideful.  So prideful, in fact, that our heart works to reject his love. We don’t want it. We deny its power. We seek things that affect our own pride first, and then, if there is room for the Lord, we may give him some of the honor. Secondly, we are ungrateful to the core. Even our tears of repentance are stained with sin. We cannot fully see the depth of ourselves. And praise God for it! For if we had but one moment’s view into the total depravity we find ourselves we would never recover. Finally, even after our conversion and after feeling the nearness of him, we go on sinning. We are not only prideful and ungrateful but at the same time evil. Only his goodness overshadows our evil. If left to ourselves, we’d perish and no blame could we place outside our own flesh. But he cares for us.

In what way does he care for us? As the apostle shows, he exalts us to a lofty position. In our state, we do not call for much honor. We do not deserve an ounce of glory even on our best of days. Yet our Lord exalts us to co-heir with his Son. We do nothing for it. We go nowhere to get it. We reach no level of achievement. We humble ourselves. We see him as the mighty God he is and put ourselves, by his power, in the very place we deserve to be – at the bloody cross, where sin is forgiven.

How else does he care for us? He takes upon himself the anxiety of our heart. We cast aside our fears, our worries, our doubts, our insecurities. We take them to the throne of God by the blood of Jesus and throw them at his feet. In return we are given the grace of God. We are comforted and encouraged. We are set free. Our problems do not disappear but we see them through new eyes. It is as if we are seeing for the first time. What was once only darkness on the road ahead, we now see full of light because we’ve been placed in the very light of God and his grace illumines our path. We may still have to endure the stormy sea, perhaps we must even suffer the ship wreck, but though it may be on the planks of the ship that we reach the shore, our Lord will take us there because he cares for us.

All of this is done because God is wonderful. He is merciful. He is glorious. He is gracious. He is abounding in steadfast love. He is longsuffering. He is kind. He is many more things that cannot even be described. And this God cares for you! What ails your soul? Cast it onto him because he – the Lord of heaven and earth – cares for you! Of all realities swirling about your head, know that there is a God who deeply cares for you.

“A son honors his father, and a servant his master. If then I am a father, where is my honor? And if I am a master, where is my fear? says the LORD of hosts to you, O priests, who despise my name. But you say, ‘How have we despised your name?’ By offering polluted food upon my altar. But you say, ‘How have we polluted you?’ By saying that the LORD’s table may be despised. When you offer blind animals in sacrifice, is that not evil? And when you offer those that are lame or sick, is that not evil?”

Malachi 1:6-8

Malachi brings a word from the Lord. The Lord is asking the priests why they do not honor him. They are bringing polluted, blind, and lame animals to the altar for sacrifice. By doing that, they are not honoring the Lord. Only a pure sacrifice will do. Only a spotless sacrifice will do. But why?

The Lord put forth the requirements for sacrifice in his law. Moses stood before the congregation and spoke the law of God to the people. The priests had even more rigorous stipulations, though, because of the uniqueness of their job. They were to be a mediator between the people and God – to offer sacrifice for the sins of the people. They had high standards. God planned it that way. He has high standards.

He’s told them what sacrifices are good and which are bad. They know the rules and yet they don’t obey. God doesn’t keep silent. He moves toward them to alert them of their sin. But why is this a big deal? Malachi is a mere 54 verses. 17 of those are spent talking to the priests. That’s over 30% of the book. It is apparently a big deal.

Sacrifices have always been a big deal. The Old Testament is littered with references of sacrifices to God. It’s that way for a reason. God isn’t just being picky when he confronts the priests. No, rather, what he is doing is honoring his son. God requires a spotless sacrificial lamb from the priests but he’s not asking for something that he’s not willing to provide. God himself is going to provide a sacrificial lamb. The sacrifice is a big deal because at the center history is a sacrifice. The sacrifice is a big deal because it’s all pointing to Jesus. The priests aren’t just profaning God the Father’s name, they are also profaning God the Son’s name. Jesus is the point of this passage. Jesus is the perfect sacrifice. And the shadows of this perfect sacrifice, while still shadows, must not be taken lightly. They are pointing to something far greater.

Today we don’t make animal sacrifices. We won’t have a word from the Lord coming to our pastors asking why they aren’t killing spotless lambs. There is no longer a need. Jesus has put an end to the sacrifices. How? Jesus, the perfect high priest has himself become the sacrifice. He is the spotless lamb. He is the sacrifice that all sacrifices pointed to. There is no more payment required. There is no greater sacrifice. So, what are we to do with this passage? How are we to apply it to our lives? Surely there is something that we can glean, some warning, some conviction, from this passage. There is indeed, but it’s not what anyone would have expected.

The author of Hebrews helps us apply Malachi’s rebuke. Hebrews 13:15 says, “Through him then let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name.”

There is still a sacrifice for us to present but instead of blood, we bring praise. The blood has been shed. There is no more blood that can be presented to God in an acceptable manner. There is no more need. Christ shed his own blood and that blood though physically dry in the ground at Calvary is still fresh enough today to cleanse his children from all their sin. Though the cross no longer stands on that bloody hill outside Jerusalem, it stands still in the memory of God the Father and God the Son and its accomplishments are transferred to us by the power of God the Spirit. One bloody sacrifice of a spotless lamb for all time. Now, the game is changed.

So, what is a sacrifice of praise to God? It is simply this: praising God for the gift of salvation purchased through the blood of Jesus. Our sacrifice now is not the slaying of a lamb but rejoicing because The Lamb has been slain. Our great sin is not the lame animals we bring but the grumbling and questioning that we bring to God. It’s not our blind animals that we present at the altar that are the problem but our blind hearts that refuse to praise God for the redemption of the Lord over all our lives. We don’t have to fear slaying a polluted animal but we should fear a polluted spirit of praise.

Our sacrifice to God is now the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name. So acknowledge the name of Jesus. He is the perfect Lamb. He is the perfect Sacrifice. What if I told you that you’re only job from now to the end of your life was to offer praise to God for saving you from eternal death? What if I told you that the only thing you’d ever have to pay God is the breath that it took to speak his name in praise? Of course, when following Christ we will inevitably have to make what seem like sacrifices in our lives, but is it really a sacrifice? Is it really a sacrifice to praise and follow the one, the only one, who can save you? At the heart of the gospel there is a cross with a spotless lamb, bloodied by sin, to get his children back. The sin has been paid for. That’s praiseworthy. He is worthy of our praise. He is worthy. Praise him. It is our only sacrifice.

But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God. – John 1:12

See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. – 1 John 3:1

I have a 6 month old child. He’s my first child. He’s currently my only child. I love him. Having a child brings a lot into your life. It changes what you do, how you do it, why you do it, and who you do it for. Nothing is the same as it was six months ago. Going out to dinner is different now. Heck, going out at all is different now. I think we’ve taken less luggage on a weeklong trip to southern California than we have on a trip to Wal-Mart with my son. But we do it all with absolute, unhindered, authentic, love and joy because he is our child. We love him and nothing can change that.

My son has certain privileges as a result of being my son. He has access to me in a way that really no one else does. He controls a part of my heart that no one else touches. Even his smile affects me in a way that no other smile does. As my child, he has full rights to everything in our family. I don’t charge him rent, he eats for free, he has endless toys at his disposal, he really has everything – and more – than he needs. Everything I do and think goes through the lens of his present and future situation. How will this affect him? How will this set him up for success of failure? What am I showing him? What will this do for him now and in the future?

Having a child also changes the way I have thought about being a child of God. Throughout scripture, especially in John’s gospel and letters, we are told that believers are children of God. John opens his account of the gospel saying that for those who have received Christ, God gave the right to become children of God. Later in his first epistle, he says that because of the Father’s love we are now called children of God, and not only called, but actually are children of God. Not just mere name-sake but Spirit-sake. We’re in, and nothing, or no one, is changing it.

So, if my son has that much access, that much privilege, that much right as my child, what do believers have as children of God? A few thoughts:

1)      As children of God we are co-heirs with the firstborn, Jesus. Romans 8:16-17 says “The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs – heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.” Jesus of course is preeminent in everything but by God’s grace, we are co-heirs with Christ! This is amazing. When we feel the weight of this, the second part of verse 17 – provided we suffer – becomes a moot point. Suffering is a small price to pay in light of what we now receive as children.

2)      As children of God we are adopted into a family filled with brothers and sisters in whom we get to rejoice. We are transferred into a family full of brothers and sisters. They enhance everything for us – even our enjoyment of God. I love the way C.S. Lewis discusses the impact of community in his book The Four Loves:

“Lamb says somewhere that if, of three friends (A, B, and C), A should die, then B loses not only A but “A’s part in C,” while C loses not only A but “A’s part in B.” In each of my friends there is something that only some other friend can fully bring out. By myself I am not large enough to call the whole man into activity; I want other lights than my own to show all his facets. Now that Charles is dead, I shall never again see Ronald’s reaction to a specifically Caroline joke. Far from having more of Ronald, having him “to myself” now that Charles is away, I have less of Ronald. Hence true Friendship is the least jealous of loves. Two friends delight to be joined by a third, and three by a fourth, if only the newcomer is qualified to become a real friend. They can then say, as the blessed souls say in Dante, “Here comes one who will augment our loves.” For in this love “to divide is not to take away.” Of course the scarcity of kindred souls – not to mention practical considerations about the size of rooms and the audibility of voices – set limits to the enlargement of the circle; but within those limits we possess each friend not less but more as the number of those with whom we share him increases. In this, Friendship exhibits a glorious “nearness by resemblance” to Heaven itself where the very multitude of the blessed (which no man can number) increases the fruition which each has of God. For every soul, seeing Him in her own way, doubtless communicates that unique vision to all the rest. That, says an old author, is why the Seraphim in Isaiah’s vision are crying “Holy, Holy, Holy” to one another (Isaiah VI, 3) The more we thus share the Heavenly Bread between us, the more we shall all have.”

3)      As children of God we are brought into eternal life. My child will receive the best I have to offer him. I’ll try to pay for his college tuition. I’ll help him out when he needs some cash. I’ll give him the best opportunities I can afford. But God gives us eternal life. It is far better to be God’s child.

4)      As children of God we have rights to the Father. He hears our prayers. He draws near to us when we need him. When we cry out in the night, he comes to us. We have the right to ask for a drink of water in the middle of the night and receive that water because we are his children. He loves us and he pays attention to us. He knows our needs.

5)      As children of God we have the joy of God. Hebrews 12:2 says that for the joy set before him he endured the cross. We are his joy. My son has my joy right now. He had it when we found out we were pregnant, he had it more when he was born and I finally saw him, he has it more now that he’s about to crawl. It is ever increasing. God’s joy over us is also ever increasing. And therefore our joy is ever increasing. Don’t we all long to make our earthly fathers proud? Our Heavenly Father is proud of us all the time and not because we did anything to earn it, just because he has chosen to look on us and see Christ. We will never be shamed again.

6)      As children of God we don’t stop being children when we misbehave. The gospel is bigger than our sin. Grace abounds. When my son misbehaves I don’t stop loving him. He’s not less of my child when he misbehaves. He’s still my child. When we become children of God, we never, ever lose our childhood. We can’t. It’s impossible. Once a child, always a child. Forever and ever. Jesus paid for us. He stands in the heavens mediating the new covenant for us. He will come back to get us. He will redeem all of the earth for us. He will give us everything that he has. Therefore, when we misbehave, when we sin, we should look to our Father and find in him the love he has for his children. There is peace in that now and forevermore.

 For all the promises of God find their Yes in him.

History is rich with promise. Our own lives are rich with promise. We’re promised things all the time. We promise others things all the time. Why? Well because there is so much uncertainty in the world. We need something to cling to. We need something more sure than empty words. We need a promise.  A child doesn’t merely take someone’s word for it. No, when something great is told to a child he almost always asks, “You promise?” He must do that because even at a young age we are lied to. What all too often happens is what seems too good to be true is so often simply too good to be true. We find ourselves cast into a sea of uncertainness. Trust is lost. Faith is sent reeling. Feelings are hurt. In cases of the most serious of promises being broken, such as wedding vows, perhaps even lives are destroyed by one’s sin. But, we serve a God who loves to make lavish, outlandish, audacious, flat out bold promises. And he’s not into breaking promises. He’s into super-fulfilling them. And throughout history his people have been asking one of two questions: either “You promise?” or “How long, O Lord?” Both God intends to answer. And both he has answered. Paul indicated this in the verse quoted above from 2 Corinthians 1:20. Jesus is the answer to all of God’s promises. And what an answer he is!

If God makes promises, and he does, it begs the question of why does he promises us anything? Certainly he doesn’t have to. Certainly it’s not because he’s obligated in some way. No, of course he doesn’t have to and of course he’s not obligated. He does it because in our sinfulness we are absolutely filled with disbelief. He does it because we won’t believe him without one. He does it because he loves us enough to prove himself to worthless creatures like us. He does it because he is full of grace and because we are full of sin. We need a promise. And we need a great promise keeper. God is both.

Throughout the history of Israel, God promised his people great things. He promised Abraham he would be the father of many and that through him all nations would be blessed. Jesus came to fulfill the law and through that fulfillment to graft in the Gentiles (Romans 11:11-24), thus opening the blessing to all nations. Jesus is that offspring of Abraham (Galatians 3:16). Promise kept.

When Abraham’s descendents found their way into Egypt and into slavery God heard their cries for relief and sent them Moses. Moses led them out of slavery and into the wilderness and God promised them that another prophet, one like Moses, would rise and it was he that they should listen to (Deuteronomy 18:15). Jesus is that prophet (John 6:14). Promise kept.

When Joshua led the Israelites into the Promised Land and the judges began to rule over them, they longed for a king. God gave them Saul but he wasn’t the answer. In his goodness he then gave them David. David sinned mightily and lost a son over it. But, David’s sin didn’t keep away the promise God had for him and for all of Israel. No sin is larger than God. God told David that he’d always have a king on the throne from his line (2 Samuel 7:12-13). Jesus is that king (Revelation 19:11-16). Promise kept.

When David was writing the Psalms, through all of his ups and his downs, God promised a priest to come. This priest would be in the line of Melchizedek, that is, everlasting (Psalm 110:4). No priest would ever supplant him. There would be no need for he would be the perfect priest. Jesus is that priest (Hebrews 5:10). Promise kept.

Promise after promise, Jesus fulfills them all. Paul uses the term “the fullness of time” (Galatians 4:4) in reference to Jesus’ coming to earth. It was the fullness of time because it was time for God to answer Yes to all of his promises. It had been 400 years since a prophet had roamed the land. It had been 400 years of silence. Perhaps this was the silence Amos referred to in 8:11-12 – “Behold, the days are coming”, declares the Lord God, “when I will send a famine on the land – not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord. They shall wander from sea to sea, and from north to east; they shall run to and fro, to seek the word of the Lord, but they shall not find it.” Did God stop talking? Was he done speaking to his people? It seemed so.

But then, not a day late, not a moment too soon, Jesus shows up and, as John says, “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us…” (John 1:14). Jesus is God’s answer. God sends a cry in the night from a new born baby to break his silence. God’s answer to every promise, the final installment, the greatest and last and ultimate fulfillment was finally here!

Jesus’ life was ordinary at best for about 30 years. He grew up. He worked a job. He ate food. He drank water. He went on walks. He prayed. He learned Scripture. He took care of his mother and siblings. He was, for lack of better words, normal. But, this normal human was more than just that. He was the fulfillment of everything. Jesus is the great Yes.

Every longing in our heart for okayness, every longing for reconciliation, every longing for a good king, every longing for a good kingdom, every longing for a sufficient sacrifice, every longing of every human heart was satisfied in Jesus. God looked down on the world in which he had made so many promises to children asking when these promises would come to maturity and he answered yes in Jesus.

All of the promises of God find their yes in him. Jesus is the great Yes of God. Christmas wasn’t just God sending Jesus as a gift to the world, although it was that, but it was God answering Yes to every promise he’d ever made. Now, because we know the answer is Yes, we can come to him and ask him for the love we so long have desired. We can ask him for the joy we’ve always sought. We can ask him for the peace we know we don’t have. We can ask him for the patience we’re always lacking. We can ask him for the kindness we can’t ever attain. We can ask him for the goodness we know we don’t have. We can ask him for the faithfulness we know we can’t keep. We can ask him for the gentleness we know we have always wanted. We can ask him for the self-control we have never, ever had. We can ask him for the salvation we desperately need. We can ask him for himself. And his answer, because of Jesus, is a resounding Yes. Forever and ever. Amen. 

We notice, next, the position of Bethlehem. It is said to be “little among the thousands of Judah.” Why is this? Because Jesus Christ always goes among little ones. He was born in the little one “among the thousands of Judah.” No Bashan’s high hill, not on Hebron’s royal mount, not in Jerusalem’s palaces. but the humble, yet illustrious, village of Bethlehem. There is a passage in Zechariah which teaches us a lesson:–lt is said that the man on the red horse stood among the myrtle-trees. Now the myrtle-trees grow at the bottom of the hill; and the man on the red horse always rides there. He does not ride on the mountain-top; he rides among the humble in heart. “With this man will I dwell, saith the Lord, with him who is of a humble and contrite spirit, and who trembleth at my word.” There are some little ones here this morning–”little among the thousands of Judah.” No one ever heard your name, did they? If you were buried, and had your name on your tombstone, it would never be noticed. Those who pass by would say, “it is nothing to me: I never knew him.” You do not know much of yourself, or think much of yourself; you can scarcely read, perhaps. Or if you have some talent and ability, you are despised amongst men; or, if you are not despised by them, you despise yourself. You are one of the little ones. Well, Christ is always born in Bethlehem among the little ones. Big hearts never get Christ inside of them; Christ lieth not in great hearts, but in little ones. Mighty and proud spirits never have Jesus Christ, for he cometh in at low doors, but he will not come in at high ones. He who hath a broken heart, and a low spirit, shall have the Saviour, but none else. He healeth not the prince and the king, but “the broken in heart, and he bindeth up their wounds.” Sweet thought! He is the Christ of the little ones. “Thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah yet out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel.”

(Philippians 3:12-16 ESV)

For those who have been graciously saved by the all mighty God, we have more than a meager interest in seeking Him. Paul’s words in the letter to the Philippians do not show a small passion for his Savior. No, his words display an earnestness to grow in Christ. He’s reaching for a goal, an upward call. He’s reaching for nothing less than Christ. Why? Because Christ Jesus has made him His own. Christ makes us His own. What else are you going to do with such love? What other goal are you trying to reach outside of His presence? What other prize could you ever desire? What greater call is there?

So, how do you forget what lies behind and strain forward to what lies ahead? By holding true to what we have attained, that is, justification by the blood of Christ. Look to Christ as your salvation, your goal, your prize, your caller, your maturity, your great revelation, your only true joy. Look to Christ. It is by Him, through Him, and for Him that we strain. He is worthy. He is indeed the only person worthy of such devotion. All else is idolatry.

We have not yet obtained perfection but we press on because by the blood of Christ we can know Him. Your works serve to display the glory of Christ. If you don’t want to work for Him, you don’t love Him.

                [26] For it was indeed fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, innocent, unstained, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens.

(Hebrews 7:23-26 ESV)

It is fitting that we have a high priest such as Jesus. Without Him we can no closer come to the throne of God than we can to a raging fire. But because of the sweetness of the blood that dripped from the Savior’s body, we can with all purity, confidence, joy, and boldness walk under that crimson waterfall and commune with the Father.

It is fitting because we so desperately need it. Without Christ as our Great High Priest, we stand before judgment, awaiting the moment we are cast out to a land that we truly deserve. But, for those whose sins have been covered so fully by His blood, we draw near, no, closer than near, into the God who upholds the universe by the word of His power. He goes far beyond mild salvation; He makes far more of us than we could deserve in thousands of years of good deeds. He makes much of us in our making much of Him. He knows where we will find unlimited joy and satisfaction and He holds nothing back to give it to us. He gives us Himself. By His blood we are found in Him.

It is fitting. We do need it. He does give it. We do enjoy it. Permanently.

An excellent wife who can find?
She is far more precious than jewels.
The heart of her husband trusts in her,
and he will have no lack of gain.

I have found that wife. Our marriage is a great gift from God and I praise him for Sarah. This is a poem from a book of poetry that I gave her as a gift for our anniversary. She’s an amazing example of gospel living for it is she who continually shows me grace upon grace, day after day, reflecting the immeasurable grace that Christ shows us in the gospel.

Jesus  Christ

The One Head

Of Our Only

 One Marriage

Sustaining, Upholding, Redeeming, Maturing, Recreating

Restoring, Disciplining, Solidifying, Blessing, Glorifying

Thru Himself

In Our Great

Weakness By

The Spilt Blood

Of His Single

Sacrifice On

The Cross For

Redemption of

Our Deep Sins

To The Praise

Of His Glory

- John Owen -

from Biblical Theology – The History of Theology from Adam to Christ, page 17; Soli Deo Gloria Publications 1994

What you make of the authority of Scripture is the degree to which you have your Christianity. We stand under the Bible, not beside it, and most certainly not over it. God’s very words spoken to our hearts in the Bible are of such immense value that to taste it and then fall away from it is to crucify Christ again and hold him up to contempt (Heb 6:4-6). Through the Holy Spirit’s work we see the steadfast love of God in the creation, the exodus, the kingdom building and destroying, the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, and the plans for future glory. We are enlightened by it, we taste the heavenly gift, and we share in the Holy Spirit through it.

The Scripture is our theology as much as water is our drink or bread is our food. The very existence of the Bible means that there is right and wrong theology. God isn’t a silent God. He’s not leaving us to wonder what He’s like. He isn’t leaving us without a glimpse of our future. He isn’t leaving us without a view of his holiness and glory. Sit under the Bible. Listen to its word. Find within its pages the glory of Christ in the gospel and respond in worship. Receive it as truth, for there is no greater truth outside of the word of the living God.