“Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.”

The first verse of Isaiah 40, penned during a time of widespread instability and uncertainty much like our own, is the inviting intro to one of the most moving chapters in all of Scripture. It reminds us that God is in control of whatever situation we’re facing. This is good news, friends! Even when the world feels very much out of control, it is not. It is so not. Our God is powerfully and wonderfully in control. He’s in control of all things – here and now.

In that same marvelous chapter, I find so many words of comfort for the turbulent age in which you and I find ourselves. It’s like the words were written for today, and – in an important sense – they were. Particularly, I’m drawn to Verses 28-31, which I’ll unpack just a little today for our comfort and joy.

“Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.”

During the lifetime of the prophet Isaiah, Israel was nothing short of a political hot mess. Threats were widespread and coming from every direction, as tyrannical Assyrian powers toppled everything that was dear to God’s people. At the same time – though His people lost sight of this truth on a regular basis – God was with them. This gorgeous portion of God’s Word was given to fan the flame of a spiritual hope that was only flickering at this point. The everlasting God – the God who superintends every chapter of human history – had not abandoned them.

Despite their hot mess, God was offering His people another opportunity to embrace – in the depth of their soul – the everlasting truth of His everlasting presence. Friends, I submit to you that God is presenting us today the same life-changing opportunity.

“He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable.”

Though God’s people had suffered setback after setback, God wanted them to understand that He isn’t prone to such setbacks. Just as we can’t fathom the reaches of His wisdom, we’re unable to grasp the full extent of His sovereign rule and reign. Christ’s reign is a tireless reign, and it is – even more good news – a kind and benevolent reign.

^“He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.”

It’s an amazing reality. Just like those who preceded us in faith, t’s entirely normal for our lives to feel out-of-control. We get weary, regularly. We try to run on empty, regularly. We meet affliction like a deer in the headlights, regularly. But that place of exhaustion, if we will make it also a place of surrender, is where God meets us and gives us what we don’t have.

“Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”

In the mind of a typical Hebrew, an eagle was a noteworthy symbol of exceptional strength, and was to be admired much like we Americans respect our emblematic bald eagle. When God’s people thought of eagles, they thought of fearless warriors – but also of warriors who care deeply. They understood that eagles – upon sensing any threat at all – will do whatever it takes to get their young eaglets to safety. No matter the prowess of the predator, the eagle takes immediate action to protect the vulnerable.

And eagles are undeterred by lesser concerns. When the weather is terrible and menacing, eagles fly high above the storm clouds and soar freely far above the noise and the danger. So when we think of God giving a person “wings like an eagle,” we should imagine someone being given the ability – in Christ – to rise above the sin and corruption of this world and to serve God with their whole being. Eagle = Strength. Eagle = Valor. Eagle = Selflessness.

In the remarkable story of God’s deliverance of the Israelites from Egyptian slavery, the Bible speaks of eagles’ wings. Specifically, the Lord gave Moses a critical and timely word for His people (Exodus 19:4-5): “You yourselves have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bore you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself. Now therefore, if you will indeed obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession among all peoples, for all the earth is mine.” Isaiah is remembering that momentous promise, and calling his nation to remember it – and calling us to remember that. Our God is faithful!

Are you and I willing to soar above the fray? Are we willing to take courage in a day of fear? Are we willing to remain faithful to God – no matter the personal cost?

We will never fly high without a clear vision of heaven, because there’s far too much to worry about here. The term “mount up” is a translation of a Hebrew word which can mean “to ascend beyond a boundary.” That we can do only in Christ, because – without Him – there are far too many distractions and discouragements here. We have the problem of our own sin. We have the problem of our own shortsightedness. We have the problem of all of the attacks on our faith which seem to come at us from every direction. We have the ongoing problems of the cultural, political, and global hot mess that seems to be swirling like Dorothy’s tornado.

It’s time to fly higher! Maybe today isn’t the day that we get to go home to be with the Lord forever, but it’s a day when we can fly high enough above the noise of 2024 – and there’s a lot of noise out there – to get a fresh vision of hope, courage, and joy in our Lord Jesus Christ. “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day” (2 Corinthians 4:16).

When I was growing up, we often sang a lively old spiritual from the Antebellum South. The song, written in slavery, was based on the faith profession of the penitent thief on the cross next to our Lord (Luke 23:42): “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Some of the words we sang as kids were manufactured by over-zealous youth directors, but the original lyrics – simple yet profound – are these …

“I gotta home in gloryland that outshines the sun,
I gotta home in gloryland that outshines the sun,
I gotta home in gloryland that outshines the sun,
Way beyond the blue.

Do Lord, oh do Lord, oh do remember me,
Do Lord, oh do Lord, oh do remember me,
Do Lord, oh do Lord, oh do remember me,
Way beyond the blue!”

You and I are the helpless thief, but you and I are also the treasured possession. Whenever we need it most, the grace of Christ’s promise is as real as ever: “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Pastor Charles

The greatest servants of God go through seasons of doubt. You are not alone. If you’re in a place of spiritual skepticism, don’t be ashamed, but recognize that the Lord walks us through such valleys to graciously protect us from ourselves.

You and I need such valleys, because valleys are God’s mysterious way of protecting us from our foolish pride. You and I tend to underestimate how insidiously our pride operates by nature – and how much havoc our pride can wreak. Pride percolates silently but steadily. Pride blinds and betrays us. Pride puffs us up until we interpret the whole world through the myopic lens of, “What’s in it for me?” Pride pushes each one of us into a version of us that doesn’t make us happy, while telling us that we deserve to be happy – and insisting that we ought to be happy. Pride makes us unhappy, and then condemns us for our unhappiness.

Pride never sleeps, and it’s never content to invade only one small corner of my soul. It’s cancerous and insatiable. It wants all of me. It wants all of you too.

Ironically, it’s the religious community where pride is most dangerous, and where it can do the most damage. That’s because we who inhabit the religious world are masters at explaining away our pride. Like the Pharisees of old, we tend to justify our pride and our prideful responses to others. In fact, we live in an environment where pride can be obscured behind labels like “purity,” “sincerity,” and “conviction.” When we feel the need, we’re known to employ clever words to cover our sin.

That’s what pride does. And religious pride is the worst. Spiritual pride – which ought to be oxymoronic – is a monster and a killer. Nobody sees it coming. Our unchecked ego can blow through like a tsunami that evaded the radar. Hurricane Helene was horrific, and Milton looks no less monstrous, but – when it comes to widespread danger and destruction – there’s nothing like a proud church. Or a Christ follower who’s proud but doesn’t know it.

So don’t despise your present faith struggle, painful as it may be. God may be honing in on something vitally important for your growth in grace. Frankly, I’d be more worried if you never doubted. That’s because the moment we think we have our faith all ironed out is the moment we ought to be the most concerned. Pride is subtle and sneaky. It can morph into whatever shape it needs to take in order to deceive us. “All is well,” our pride whispers, when all is not well.

There is hope for our pride, but we usually find that hope in the valley. The Bible says that “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6). In reality, we don’t want our faith all “ironed out,” because we want there to be room – always – for God to change us. To show us where we’ve been wrong. To show us how much we need Him – especially when and where we don’t even recognize our need.

Mysterious valley. Precious valley. Wondrous valley.

The Israelites were encamped in a valley when young David secured his great victory over Goliath. A more mature David promised us the very presence of God even in the valley of death’s dark shadow. And it was in a valley where Elijah heard and saw the dry bones rattle with unexpected life!

The valley can be a great teacher. A great disciple-maker. A great restorer of a sound mind. A great reviver of a battered and tattered and tired faith. Sometimes our most exhilarating and life-giving interaction with God comes in what we thought was just another lonesome valley. And sometimes it’s right there in the valley where God wrestles us to the ground.

Sometimes, what you and I can’t possibly see from the highest mountaintop, we can see only from the valley.

So God leads us to the valley. And, though He never really left us – even for a millisecond – there in the valley we find Him. Amen. “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you” (James 4:8).

Sacred valley.

“But,” you say, “this doesn’t feel like I’m wrestling with God. It feels like I’m wrestling with Satan.” Ah, that may be true, but never forget that God is sovereign over your every struggle. There’s nothing touching you that He isn’t allowing for your good and for His glory. Trust Him and fight. Trust Him, and surrender. “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you” (James 4:7).

Wrestling with our faith in Christ might be the best thing ever to happen to us, friends. When this round is over, we may walk with a limp, but a real encounter with the living God will have been well worth it.

Our God loves us far too much to leave us running on empty – running on our empty pride. And resurrection always starts with a mortal blow.

Pastor Charles

“To give you an understanding of the devastation we’re dealing with: Chimney Rock is gone.”

Those were the words of a local filmmaker. Chimney Rock is – was – a town with a population of 140 in scenic Rutherford County, North Carolina. In the path of the remnants of Hurricane Helene, Chimney Rock was inundated by the floodwaters of the Broad River.

Chimney Rock is no more.

And, when it comes to the widespread devastation caused by Helene, Chimney Rock is the tip of the iceberg. We’re just beginning to comprehend the extent of the damage, destruction, and loss of human life. And the bullseye of the storm seems to be one of the most gorgeous regions of the USA – in my humble opinion – the highlands along the Tennessee and North Carolina border.

Though we can get fixated on what’s happening just to our east, I think that it’s important for us to remember why “natural disasters” happen anywhere on Planet Earth. In the beginning, when our first parents rebelled against God, their rebellion plunged the entire human race into full-blown mutiny. With sin came death (Romans 5:12). But humankind did not face the entirety of sin’s fallout. Creation itself was stricken. God’s Word recounts our history, and we’re reminded that God – in His flawless holiness – cursed the entire created order (Genesis 3:17; Romans 8:20).

The Apostle Paul goes on to explain that “the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth.” Describing our present fallen world, including the monstrous reach of Helene, he depicts a world that is longing to be “set free from its bondage to corruption” (Romans 8:21-22). This is what we’re observing, via jaw-dropping footage from the mountains and foothills of the American Southeast, even now.

We knew that the Big Bend of Florida was in trouble, but no one predicted this much loss this far inland. It wasn’t a likely scenario. But here we are. And nearby are our suffering neighbors. These kinds of disasters can happen anywhere, as you know. Fires ravage California. Typhoons pummel the Philippines. Earthquakes strike Haiti, Japan, Syria, and Turkey. There is no place on earth where sudden and widespread catastrophe is an impossibility.

Per the testimony of sacred Scripture, the groaning of the planet that we call home never stops. The groaning is continuous. The groaning is relentless. At times like this, the groaning is nothing short of heartbreaking.

Friends, sometimes it’s exceedingly difficult for us to face the God of the Bible for who He really is. We’d rather pretend that God has nothing to do with natural disasters, but what kind of powerless God would that be? It’s simply not true. The plain fact that God could prevent these disasters ought to give us pause, and persuade us to look upon Him with the reverence – the holy fear – that He deserves. We should recognize that these awe-inspiring events like Helene take place within God’s providence. Look no further than the plagues of Egypt or the storm that God “hurled” upon Jonah’s ship – rocking everyone on board to their core. There’s no question that God uses even tragic events for our good and for His glory.

And He uses them to get our undivided attention.

You and I mustn’t be afraid to bring God our biggest questions. A faith with big answers is a faith with big questions. God can handle our questions. The only dumb question is one we have but don’t ask.

And God is walking with us through this life, storms and all. Christ is “Immanuel” – “God with us” (Matthew 1:23). Not only is our Lord with us in the worst of storms, but – in and through those storms – He is accomplishing things too marvelous for us to imagine! Jonah’s unexpected storm was for the salvation of an entire unbelieving nation. “He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken” (Psalm 62:2).

Storms of incomprehensible proportions call each of us to reflection and repentance. How have I ignored the goodness and blessings of God? How have I, by unbelief and neglect, trampled upon God’s promises? How have I become spiritually careless, putting myself and others in harm’s way? How have I become so self-absorbed that I’ve failed to respond graciously to the suffering of others? How have I refused to worship Christ as Creator and Sovereign over all? And how have I failed “to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with my God” (Micah 6:8)?

We would be wise to remember that natural disasters are, among many other things, a picture of the judgment and wrath of God that are coming upon the earth. Jesus predicted famines and earthquakes (Matthew 24:7), and He said of the eighteen who were crushed accidentally by the collapse of the Siloam tower, “Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13:5). Storms are always a benevolent wake-up call from the Almighty.

Yes, grace will have the last word. Not only does God help us cope with calamity, but Christ has entered into our broken world to redeem all of human history – even the harshest and most perplexing chapters of our lives. One day, Chimney Rock will make sense. Until then, you and I are called to proclaim the immovable hope of the gospel. The reason we help others at times like this, serving as the hands and feet of Jesus, is the Incarnation itself: “The Word became flesh” (John 1:14). It’s our privilege to love our neighbors as we’ve been so freely loved.

Helene is one chapter, but not the last chapter – and certainly not the whole story. As the old preacher exclaimed, “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s comin’!” After the Cross, there’s an empty tomb! We can’t fathom how much work will be required just to get I-40 up and running again, but our God has promised to make all things new. “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more” (Revelation 21:3-5).

Perhaps the brave and spectacular rescue of helpless patients stranded on the roof of the hospital in Erwin, Tennessee, speaks volumes. “‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved; how precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed!”

“I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth” (Psalm 121:1-2).

To the hills, I lift up my eyes.

Pastor Charles

God is doing something wonderful in my life. Wonderful and scary. I’ve never been more certain of His presence and power working in me, and yet I readily admit that I don’t completely understand where this is headed.

I think it’s a journey toward grace.

If you’ll allow me, I’ll try to explain. For many years, I have believed in the grace of Jesus Christ. His unearned favor, freely given as a gift, received by faith. The good news of the gospel is this: we trade our sin for Christ’s righteousness. It’s all of Christ. So, “amazing grace” is central to everything about me. I’m totally committed. My doctrine is rooted in grace. My understanding of my relationship to God is rooted in grace. My preaching is rooted in grace. My teaching is rooted in grace. And, as a Christ follower, all my hope for the future is rooted in grace.

And yet, I think that I’ve suffered from a debilitating grace disconnect. By that I mean that my knowledge of grace hasn’t translated into my personal experience of grace. I’ve been committed to salvation by grace in theory, but I’ve been slow to feel it in my bones.

Over the last year and a half, deep in my soul, something has shifted. The shift has been subtle but steady, so I’ve undergone a considerable transformation at this point. It all started when a trusted friend helped me recognize my struggle with anxiety. At first, I was quite reluctant to own any anxiety whatsoever – I am, after all, the life of the party – but eventually I was able to acknowledge that I’ve spent much of my life worrying about all kinds of things.

That may not seem to you like a big revelation, but it was to me. I had to recognize that my longstanding doctrinal commitment to the sovereignty of God was not overflowing from my mind to my heart. Said differently, my intellectual assent to “all things work together for good” was incapable of comforting my anxious heart.

The anxiety has been rough. In my particular situation, anxiety has not manifested itself in ways that make me look like a nervous person – to the outside world – but my anxiety has driven me to spend far too much time battling intrusive and catastrophic thoughts. Some of my thoughts have been diametrically opposed to what I know to be true. For example, I’ve struggled with obsessive fears that I’ve offended God beyond the reach of the atoning sacrifice of Jesus.

Friends, I know that the Cross is sufficient. I understand. I get it. I know that Christ’s blood covers all my sin. I know that I can’t out-sin the grace of God. I know all about “taking captive every thought” and “demolishing spiritual strongholds” and “being anxious for nothing” and “the peace which surpasses all understanding” and “thinking lovely and excellent thoughts.” I know all of those things, and they’re 100% true. I know them intellectually and theologically … but they’re not always confirmed by the most prominent voices echoing in the ear of my soul. Sometimes, at 3:00 in the morning, my anxiety screams louder than all that truth put together. Maybe you can relate.

I am learning, slowly but surely, that I don’t have to be embarrassed by those crises in the dark. I don’t like them. I don’t want them. I don’t look forward to them. And I’m not happily volunteering for more of them. But I don’t have to pretend that I’m something I’m not. And what I am is someone who’s prone to anxious thoughts. Even debilitating anxious thoughts. And that’s not an indictment of me. I think of it more like a handicap. A holy handicap, in fact. I’ve finally become convinced that God loves anxious Charles.

That milestone itself was a big step for me, because it allowed me to lay down my shame. I still pick up that shame from time to time, but shame and I are no longer joined at the hip. And, as I experience more and more freedom, I’m able to have much healthier conversations with God at 3 a.m. – or at any other time. When you’re not feeling “less than who God wants you to be,” it sets you free to welcome God to hang out with who you really are. I hope that makes sense.

Here’s the thing I’m learning about handicaps in our lives: they’re a point of human weakness, but they’re a place for God to shine! And that’s the change that God is making in me, albeit so slowly that it’s nearly imperceptible at times. Month by month. Day by day. Hour by hour. Minute by minute. My gracious God is moving me from despising my handicap to recognizing my handicap as an important tool in His merciful hands. My handicap is used of my Lord to drive me toward His incomparable grace. And not just theoretical grace, but practical grace. Grace that touches and changes me.

My strange handicap is, itself, a strange grace.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” That was God’s good and perfect Word to the Apostle Paul, who wanted so desperately to trade in his handicap for some other plan (2 Corinthians 12:7-10). It’s also God’s Word to you, and to me. Like Paul, will we – when grace finally overwhelms us as it should – brag about our holy handicaps?

This is my journey, and it’s still underway. It hasn’t been all fun – that’s the understatement of the day – but it holds tremendous promise for grace to have the last word. That’s what I want. And I believe that’s what God wants. As I walk this road, I’m trusting that my faithful Christ is spearheading this whole new adventure.

Though His voice sounds muted – by my humanness, I’m sure – I think that I can hear Him from not too far away. I think He’s cheering me on. And I think I’ll take another step.

Pastor Charles

Ever feel stuck?

I’m not talking about being stuck in an elevator, or stuck in a job you don’t like, but I’m talking about feeling spiritually stuck. As in: “After all these years walking with Christ, I can’t believe that I still have to struggle with [insert your least favorite temptation here].”

I mean, I’m not sure that anyone ever told us this explicitly, but I think that many of us lived under the impression that – at some point in our spiritual maturity – our proclivity to sin would simply lose its grip. But, as life has played out thus far, we’re still battling our old nature. In fact, it may even seem to you that your battle against your sin is raging more fiercely than ever.

As a lover of classic literature, I’m somewhat familiar with the genre known as bildungsroman. Think of it as a coming-of-age story, and I don’t have to tell you how powerful and compelling such stories can be. There’s “Jane Eyre” by Charlotte Brontë (1847), “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” by Mark Twain (1884), “Anne of Green Gables” by Lucy Maud Montgomery (1908), “The Catcher in the Rye” by J.D. Salinger (1951), and “To Kill a Mockingbird” by Harper Lee (1960). The stories involve the ups and downs and ins and outs of one’s formative years.

I’ll add another novel for your consideration: “Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens (1861). You likely remember Pip, the English orphan who takes on a whole new life when he receives a fortune from a benefactor he never suspects. Now amidst London’s high society, Pip must learn to navigate the strangeness of his new identity. They’re hard shoes to step into, and he makes a mess of much of it.

In our spiritual journey, you and I are Pip. I realize we’re not living in the Industrial Revolution, but we are – in Pip-like fashion – regularly surprised by how much we don’t yet know or understand about ourselves. This side of glory, for every follower of Jesus Christ, such struggles are timeless. No matter our age or how long we’ve served the Lord, we never grow out of our need to grow up. And, as long as you and I are growing in the grace and knowledge of Christ, the heat of the battle will feel at times more intense than we can possibly endure.

Through the ups and downs and ins and outs of your life, God is writing a marvelous story! On any given day, the rough patches of our sanctification can be a tough pill to swallow, but the reality of our emerging Christlikeness is the unbreakable promise of God to each one of us (Romans 8:26-30). I understand that lingering “Temptation X” – from my opening paragraph – can feel awfully discouraging, but I’m writing today to encourage you. Because here’s the truth: anything in our lives that boosts our desperate dependence on Jesus is a very good thing.

In a style that’s quite charming, Dickens tries to capture the deepest longings and loves of the human heart. Pip learns the hard way how to become a gentleman, and this requires facing some hard truths about himself. The same goes for us. We’re still growing up. We’re still growing into maturity. As we keep moving toward Christlikeness, the trials of our journey become the journey’s treasures. Whatever your age, these are your formative years.

As we are led by the Holy Spirit, and as we are being filled with the Holy Spirit, you and I are learning to think rightly and wisely. When we first came to saving faith in Christ, we couldn’t possibly have understood the depth of the lostness from which we’d been rescued. But now we’re coming into knowledge of the truth. We’re learning to dismantle our wrong assumptions. We’re learning to destroy strongholds of twisted thinking that have been allowed to operate for years. Even if we’ve been learning these lessons for what feels like a lifetime, the best part is that we’re still learning. Even if the progress seems slow by our estimation, God’s Word is still working powerfully in us. That’s the nature of what the Bible does.

God’s Word still works on God’s people. As long as we’re still here, His truth reaches deep into our souls and shines a piercing searchlight into the darkest crevices of our selfishness. It exposes our spiritual blindness. It challenges, and eventually topples, our stubborn idols. Its strength and efficacy are superior to that of any other word or influence. Charles Spurgeon described it like this: “The Word of God is like a lion. All you have to do is let the lion loose, and the lion will defend itself.”

Friends, there’s no such thing as having “arrived” at perfect spiritual maturity, this side of heaven. We’re always learning to think soundly … continually striving to practice what we preach … constantly praying for the ability to discern wisely in a hyper-confusing age. Like Paul, we’re pressing on toward the upward call and prize of Jesus Christ. We haven’t graduated from the school of pressing on. And, even when the time comes for our Lord to take us home, we’ll still be trusting in our gracious God.

Be encouraged! Despite some temporary setbacks along the way, our spiritual progress will prevail. If the end result were up to us, we’d have plenty of reason for skepticism, but the One who will carry us across the finish line is faithful and true. And He is able.

In Christ, anchored and secure, you and I are coming of age. We’ve embarked on the most thrilling of adventures, and the adventure is well underway. We’re learning, and relearning, to put on Christ. Though we stumble on occasion, and feel like we’ve failed a grade or two, we’re still stepping into our new identity – IN CHRIST – and embracing the grace that we’ve received for all it’s worth. Risen from the dead, our living Savior is working in us with nothing less than His own resurrection power – preparing us for a glorious eternity with Him!

That’s who you really are. You’re not the sum total of your defeats. You’re an eternal winner! Though the world doesn’t understand this, our temptations don’t define us. Even when we’re battered and bruised by our battles, the war against sin and death has been waged and won on a Cross: “It is finished!” With complete confidence, you and I can trust to the end that the reigning King of the universe is using even our hardest chapters to make us more and more like Jesus.

That’s a story worth savoring and celebrating. Christ has won! For us, this should be a day of great expectations.

Pastor Charles

In April of this year, when Eileen and I were vacationing on St. Maarten, we were enjoying a swimming pool with a vanishing edge. On the horizon, we saw a rugged and mountainous and lovely land mass. Here’s the weird part. We’d been in the pool several times over several days, and there’d been no land in sight. To us, this thing of beauty made an overnight appearance, and we thought we were losing it – officially. But, as we soon discovered, we were seeing the island of Saba for the first time. A small band of clouds had blocked our view – over and over and over again – as the cloudiness had been just enough to rob us of something majestic.

I was just reading a little Richard Baxter. Baxter, who died in 1691, was known as “the chief of English Protestant Schoolmen,” and was quite wise as a theologian and Nonconformist. You may remember that the Nonconformists spoke out boldly against any official state church. This did not make for an easy life, as you might imagine. The Nonconformists faced official opposition from the government, and more than their fair share of antagonism from society at large. Others among the Nonconformists, with whom you might be more familiar, were the Bible scholar Matthew Henry and the hymnwriter Isaac Watts.

As I was reading, a certain prayer caught my eye. Baxter wrote: “Lord Jesus, scatter all these mists! O Thou Sun of righteousness, make Thy way into this benighted mind! O send Thy Advocate to silence every temptation against Thy truth and Thee, to prosecute Thy cause against Thy enemies and mine, and to witness my sonship and salvation!” My friends, I’m not sure that I’ve ever read a lovelier or more pertinent prayer for all of us, as we watch 2024 slink over the horizon.

What does it mean to admit to God that we have a “benighted” mind? For starters, it means that we’re coming clean about all of the ways in which we’ve chosen darkness over light. We’re acknowledging that we’ve let this world get the best of us at times, and that we’ve succumbed to the allures of its values and its gods. And it means that we’re finally being honest about our palpable inability to rescue ourselves from the spiritual blind spots which plague us day in and day out. In large measure, we’re stating the obvious: that we don’t even know where and how we most need God’s help. But we’re acknowledging that He does!

And here’s the amazing thing. God has promised to do something about this very predicament. The Bible promises: “We have the mind of Christ” (1 Corinthians 2:16). You and I do not have to keep stumbling around in the darkness, but we can find in Christ the truth that we need to make sense of our present circumstances. His Word and His Spirit will meet us where we are and move us from confusion to understanding.

I’m not promising you that – if you will seek the Lord – every detail of your life will make sense. We must leave room for the mystery of God … and the often-perplexing timing of God … and the various and sundry difficulties that God allows us to face by faith. But I’m saying that we can trust the Lord to bring us the light that we need. And I don’t have to tell you how desperately we need Christ’s light right now. “Scatter all these mists!”

Take another glance at Baxter’s prayer. “Send Thy Advocate!” We find this word “Advocate” in John 14:16-17, 26; 15:26; and 16:7. It’s the Greek “Paraclete,” and it literally means someone who comes alongside us. Your English translation may use the word “Helper.” You and I must keep in mind that the one who accuses us day and night never relents. That’s why we need the Holy Spirit – the Spirit of truth. He is always there to defend us. Always there to teach and guide us. Always there to counsel us. Our Advocate prays for us, and prays through us, when we have absolutely no idea how to pray (Romans 8:26-27). When we are tempted to sin, He faithfully delivers us from evil.

Out of nothing but love, our Advocate convicts us and redirects us. He gives us a heart for repentance. He reminds us of the enduring promises of God, and He does it when you and I most need to remember those words. Instead of rebuking us in our weakness, He comes close to strengthen us in our weakness. He reminds us that we are forgiven and clean in the Lord Jesus Christ. He shows us how we need to change, and He empowers us to change. The Spirit can change us when we can’t change ourselves! Miraculously, He gives us the gift of faith (Ephesians 2:8-9). The knowledge that God’s Spirit is working in our lives – in all of these marvelous ways – should be a great comfort to us when the clouds roll in and the fog hangs low – and when everything about the path forward feels ominously obscure. Especially then, He is the Comforter par excellence.

Richard Baxter prayed what you and I need to pray: that God would fight our battles for us! “Send Thy Advocate … to prosecute Thy cause against Thy enemies and mine.” When we pray like this, we’re acknowledging that Christ is King! We’re consciously bringing ourselves under the authority of His Word. We’re announcing to the powers of spiritual darkness that they’re going down. We’re preaching and delighting in Christ’s gospel! “For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive. But each in his own order: Christ the firstfruits, then at His coming those who belong to Christ. Then comes the end, when He delivers the kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power. For He must reign until he has put all His enemies under His feet” (1 Corinthians 15:21-25). “THY KINGDOM COME, THY WILL BE DONE, ON EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN.”

“Send Thy Advocate … to witness my sonship and salvation!” This part of the prayer I find absolutely mind-blowing. When you and I pray for the Lord to give us assurance that we are His – and who among us doesn’t need that assurance? – we’re simply asking God to do what He’s already told us He’s willing to do: “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 (Romans 8:16-17). Friends, our Advocate is anything other than cold and impersonal. He is warm and relational. He is ours. He is here! In a way that defies description by human language, He can speak to our hearts and minds … and bring us peace like no other.

Yes, suffering will be part of our journey. From here to glory can be a bit of a rocky road. But here’s the thing: What our enemy means for evil, our God will use for good. As we walk closely with Christ during the trials and struggles of this life, the Holy Spirit – our personal Advocate – will bear fruit in us, and we will take on characteristics that could come to us no other way. Gentleness, for example. And patience with God and others. These are important marks of a person whose walk with Jesus is genuine. You and I should not be surprised that God turns the evil plans of Satan on their head. That’s what He does! Only our God can turn the dark evil of the cross into the bright victory of the empty tomb.

Lord, scatter these mists! The fogginess of this world seeks to rob us of what we know to be true, and we need You to restore our right mind. As You do, we know that You will set our sights above the craziness of Earth, and set our affections on the perfection that’s coming soon.

Pastor Charles

You are unique. There’s no other you.

Your fingerprint is just one small example. The likelihood of two people sharing identical fingerprints is estimated to be less than one in 64 billion. Said differently, it doesn’t happen. Statistically, in fact, it would take more than a million years for two people with “matching” fingerprints to appear in a reliable database. And even if your fingerprint seemed to be a perfect match with that of somebody else, upon further examination of the minute details, other features of your print would set it apart.

That’s because you’re unique. It’s just that simple. In the intricate tapestry of God’s design, your fingerprint stands as an impeccable masterpiece. What is etched upon the canvas of your skin, by the One who gave you life, is a universe of evidence that your Creator designed you to be distinct from every other person on Earth. God desires for you to be different. To stand out. Like no other, to shine for Him!

And your fingerprint is just the beginning. The beginning of the uniqueness of you. Consider that the Lord has given you your own personality. It isn’t exactly like anyone else’s. The same can be said about your unique temperament. You likely share some temperamental traits with others you know, but I don’t have to remind you that those similarities go only so far. No one out there is your carbon copy.

And we haven’t even talked about your life experiences. Again, they’re wondrously unique. Your heritage. Your family. Your education and training. Your jobs. Your successes. Your failures. No one else has your story. It’s the story of you. When our gracious Father is writing your story – and He is – your lowest moment can propel you to your greatest victory!

Your perspective is as unique as you, and it’s invaluable.

And God has gifted you, uniquely. In the Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25:14-30), Jesus reminds us that life is about much more than our individual agendas. God has gifted each one of us for His own specific purposes. Our uniqueness is part of God’s cosmic plan, as the Lord intends to use us to bless others – and to extend the canopy of Christ’s kingdom to others. You and I are His hands and feet. We’re the servants on duty. We’re responsible to use our gifts wisely, and never to forget that we will give an account.

When it comes to a robust embrace of the unique life that God has given us to enjoy for His glory, one of our biggest handicaps is that we allow ourselves to get trapped in the folly of comparison. In this regard, social media has done us no favors, as we’re incessantly reminded how perfectly everybody else’s life is going. Nonsense! We’re all gifted differently, but everyone has struggles. Everyone has vulnerabilities. Everyone experiences loss, sadness, shame, and regret along the way. Everyone would like to be better at this, that, or the other. Nobody’s relationships are perfect, regardless of how stunning we find their Facebook pics.

Sometimes, what we’re secretly longing for is somebody else’s life. But think about it for a minute. Would we really want that? The answer is a clear “no,” and we can answer that question unequivocally for one significant reason: God knows exactly what is best, and exactly what He’s doing. There, in the knowledge of the One who does all things well, you and I can rest. We’re exactly who we’re supposed to be.

Friend, don’t let the world squeeze you into its boring and inflexible mold. If you let down your guard in this way, you’ll lose the best parts of you. You’ll unknowingly eclipse the distinctive spark that is your individuality, and end up void of identity and unsure of who you really are.

Instead, find your honest-to-goodness identity in Jesus Christ! That’s where your happiness will bubble over. Of course you have some imperfections and flaws, as does each one of us, but they’re no match for your gifts and strengths. You don’t have to be like anybody else to be welcome at the only table that matters, because to be in Christ is to be “accepted in the Beloved” (Ephesians 1:6). Beloved! That’s who you are. God’s marvelous and unstoppable plan is to use you – yes, you – to bring beauty to His world.

Being you will feel a little risky at times. Authentic can be scary, as we’ve all succumbed to the allure of celebrity culture a little more than we’d like to admit. But it’s a lonely culture, and we’re choosing to step out on a limb of not caring whether or not we fit in. We’re choosing to trust our God, the Designer par excellence. The Designer of us. And here’s His all-wise verdict (Isaiah 43:1): “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.” When you and I thrive in that identity, we open the door for others to celebrate with us by doing the same.

The party starts when, under the Lordship of Christ, you decide to go be you.

If you’re an athlete, go for it! If you’re a dancer, let ‘er rip! If you’re a mom of preschoolers, you couldn’t have a more important job! If you’re a praying grandpa, only eternity will reveal the mammoth worth of your present vocation!

There will only be one of you, ever. In all of human history, you will be you only this one time. That makes right now monumentally important. If I wanted to be you, I couldn’t. Neither could anybody else be you, now or ever.

You are you, and you are it. So make it count.

Pastor Charles

This morning I’m reading about disagreements between the Harris and Trump campaigns regarding the televised debate scheduled for September 10. The primary issue appears to be live mics or no live mics, and – like so many other things this political season – it’s heated up to the point of a possible impasse. Lots of pundits are weighing in on the matter, putting forth their ideas regarding how each candidate stands to gain or lose depending upon how this gets resolved.

Regarding whether or not ABC’s debate microphones should be hot, I don’t plan to wade into those weeds. I’d bore you to death if I did. But I do find it fascinating – in our day of rampant relativism – that even this debate format controversy points to the existence of God. Yes, you read that correctly. My premise today is that the debate squabble itself points us to the God of the universe. Bear with me, friends.

The Harris camp is saying to the Trump camp, and the Trump camp is saying to the Harris camp: “The way that you’re proposing that we do this is wrong. It’s unfair. It’s biased against me.” I know that those exact words haven’t been used, but you get my point. Both sides are claiming that an injustice needs to be remedied.

The biggest piece of evidence for God is the fact that the world is unjust. (That’s why all sides are skeptical regarding the debate format.) When it comes to everything about this world, something is broken. Something is wrong. Everybody knows this, and few people would argue with this. Things in this world are not how they’re supposed to be. The Presidential debate is just one small example.

Notice that the problem is more than just, “I don’t prefer it that way.” That might be the case if we were talking about serving chocolate or vanilla ice cream after the debate. We could agree that you prefer mango and I prefer lemon, and it would be no big deal. It’s just an ice cream flavor. You wouldn’t call me a lemon loser, and I wouldn’t call you a mango malfunction. We’d simply acknowledge that you prefer one kind and I another.

But that’s not what happens in politics, and in most of life. Because the systems of this world are desperately broken. They include people trying to take advantage of each other. Trying to cheat each other. Trying to one up each other. And, sooner or later, somebody points that out. “What you’re proposing is wrong.” “Your idea is harmful.” “Your legislative plan has so many dangerous downsides that it’s a modern-day Titanic.”

Whenever you and I claim that something – anything – is wrong, we’ve pointed to a moral law. With or without declaring it outright, we have determined that there is a right, and that there is a wrong. We have appealed to a moral law.

Here’s the thing. We point to a moral law because there is a moral law. A moral law exists, even where it isn’t written down. And, if you’ll allow me, I want to take that thought one step further … the very fact that there’s a moral law means that there’s a moral lawgiver.

Isn’t that interesting? The problem of evil – which is universal – isn’t an argument against God. It’s an argument for God! Think about it like this: If God does not exist, there is no real evil to object to.

Anytime that people claim that “this is wrong” or “that is wrong,” they’re acknowledging the unshakable reality of higher and transcendent and even universal laws that govern this world. If I say that something is “supposed to be this way” – as opposed to “that way” – I’m making the same claim. I’m telling you that there is a right way and a wrong way, and I’m appealing to you to see it my way. And not just because it’s my way, but because it’s the right way. (Reminder: I’m talking about things far more important than ice cream.)

Think about what both candidates are telling us: each of them claims to know the right way forward for this nation. In large measure, they’re making moral claims. And, as they do – whether they realize it or not – they’re arguing for the existence of a moral God. All claims like that should remind us that there is One who intends a righteousness and justice that escapes us all too often.

Wherever there’s a law to violate, there’s a lawmaker. That’s true when I don’t like the speed limit restrictions on I-65, and it’s true in the remotest jungle where there’s neither language nor courthouse. The Apostle Paul makes this claim clearly in Romans 1, where he reveals God’s universal indictment of the human race: “They are without excuse.”

I encourage you to prayerfully and wisely employ this line of reasoning in your conversations out there in an election year. With people who don’t trust the Bible, you can still use the philosophical underpinnings established in God’s Word (they don’t have to know that yet) …

1. If there’s no God, there’s no morality. There’s no law. There’s no justice.

2. There is objective morality, with some common tenets among all cultures. And there’s a universal quest for justice – for wrong to be made right.

3. Therefore, there must be a God.

In case you’re interested, this ancient way of presenting truth via deductive reasoning is called a “modus tollens” or a “modus tollendo tollens.” Since each of the three premises is true, the argument itself is logical and valid. Once you really think through it, it’s rather simple and easy to remember.

And, when the time is right, you can take that conversation all the way to the very best news. Not only is there a God, but He has told us His name, and His name is Jesus!

I suppose that the impending debate between our two candidates is a big deal, right down to the mics. But I can assure you, an even bigger deal is that you and I are not alone. We have been formed and fashioned by a gracious Creator, who loves us and has called us to be His own. He sent His only Son to rescue us from the penalty and power of sin. This great God created everything around us, seen and unseen. There’s no molecule beyond Christ’s rule and reign. And He is worthy of all of our praise!

This election season is sure to have a few more twists and turns, but we can smile when our God shows off in the heat of it all.

Pastor Charles

“I can see the writing on the wall.”

When people use some version of this expression, more often than not, they use it to communicate that something has become apparent or obvious. As in, “We can already see where this is headed, because the writing is on the wall.” Generally speaking, the expression is used to indicate clear signs of something that’s perceived to be inevitable, and most often that “something” is negative and unwelcome.

I find the expression fascinating – and in fact full of application for today – when we consider the original context in the Word of God. As it’s recorded for us in Daniel 5, King Belshazzar is hosting a lavish dinner party. Just as the King of Babylon was known to inscribe important words on statues or walls, God decides to write on the wall some important words for the king. The Lord does this in a miraculous way via “the fingers of a human hand,” and Belshazzar – as we find in the original Hebrew – suddenly recognizes that “the knots of this legs are loosed.” There are a number of ways that we could go with that, but suffice it to say that the king was absolutely terrified. His knees knocked together. His limbs gave way. He needed the nearest restroom, and fast. Or some combination of all of the above. And the Scriptures tell us that Belshazzar was white as a ghost. The king was sobered in a second.

Now, prior to the writing on the wall, the party had gotten way out of hand. It appears that there had been way too much mindless revelry, and that there had been at least one round of intentional mockery of the one true God. Using the vessels that had been ransacked from the Jerusalem temple, Belshazzar and his guests – including his family, his concubines, and his court – “praised the gods of gold and silver, bronze, iron, wood, and stone.”

And, as has been substantiated earlier in Daniel during King Nebuchadnezzar’s chaotic reign, not one of the royal advisers is worth a dime. These men include the most educated scholars, but they have no idea what the handwriting means. The queen steps in and suggests that Belshazzar man up. Though no one else remembers, the queen recalls something big. In a bit of humorous wordplay in the text, she declares that Daniel is wise enough to “loosen knots” – whether knees or intestines. In fact, he’s just what a knee-knockin’ king needs right now. So Daniel is brought in to fix what’s now a public embarrassment on multiple fronts. God’s servant makes it clear that he wants none of the rewards which the palace has offered.

This is where it gets really interesting to me. We often use the “writing on the wall” expression when something is obvious, but exactly the opposite is the situation in the original story. The meaning of the writing isn’t obvious at all. No one can decipher it, except Daniel of course – when the time is right. But, until Daniel makes sense of all of this, this is a great mystery for even the brightest minds in the room. It is completely not obvious!

“Mene. Mene. Tekel. Parsin.” There are four words. They’re not Hebrew words, but they’re written in Aramaic. They’re all monetary weights. They’re common coins. But they’re all nouns. There are no verbs to connect the words to each other, nor are there modifiers of any kind to help anybody connect the interpretive dots. So wise Daniel does his thing, yet again. He takes the words as passive participles and builds the incredible interpretation. Like Hebrew, Aramaic can be written without vowels. When the vowels are supplied, the word may be a noun, a verb, or another word completely.

“Mene, mene” means that God has numbered King Belshazzar’s days, and it’s a finite number. The noun “mene” is taken as a verb which means “to count” or “to number.” “Tekel” means that God has weighed the king in the balance – morally speaking – and found him sorely wanting. God has a perfect standard, and Belshazzar does not measure up. The privileged king lacks what he most needs. The root of the word “shekel” means “to weigh.” “(U)Parsin” means literally “split up” or “divided.” So Daniel reasons that the Babylonian kingdom will be divided between the Medes and the Persians. Of further interest to us may be the fact that the Aramaic root “prs” – which means “to divide” – sounds very much like the name of the Persian Empire.

And Belshazzar doesn’t make it through the night. According to the Greek military leader and historian, Xenophon, the city of Babylon was captured without much resistance while the inhabitants were celebrating a festival. By ways nothing short of spectacular, the head of gold had come down.

Friends, there is no way for us to look back on history without recognizing that our God is completely in control. There was never a random day, or a meaningless moment. The One who sits on heaven’s throne “works – orders – all things according to the counsel of his will” (Ephesians 1:11). Not some things, but all things. You and I ought to fear this great God – we ought to worship Him with reverence and with awe – for He alone is awesome beyond our wildest imaginations.

And we, even in the messiness of 2024, should find Daniel’s story deeply comforting. Behind the history that is unfolding before our eyes on a daily basis is a God who’s writing and orchestrating the larger and most important story. At a time which He has determined and which only He knows, our Sovereign Lord will bring human history to a close. Absolutely nothing will stop Him. Yes, a Day of Judgment is coming. Each one of us will be weighed on God’s scales. And we – were it not for the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ – would be found on the wrong side of that balance. But, for our good and for His glory, Christ has triumphed for us! His cross and His tomb are empty!

We need wisdom and discernment to walk through these challenging days. Unless the Holy Spirit graces us with both, we will fail to see what we desperately need to see and understand. We will be like the party guests staring at the wall, punch-drunk and stupefied.

In a world of flickering starlight, where the loudmouthed allure of idols wins over sin-soaked hearts and minds on a regular basis, let’s remember how blessed we are not to be traveling this road of life alone. We who are in Christ have a Shepherd. A Guide. A Friend. One who sticks closer than a brother. How immeasurably loved are we! The Light of the world has come to us, and made Himself known to us. You and I don’t have to stare blankly any longer, for we’ve received a vision so breathtakingly gorgeous that angels are stirred to holy jealousy.

A greater King – a King of kings – has come, and He will outshine and outlast every government, every ruler, and every Presidential administration. So you and I need not fear the future, or any of its chapters between now and eternity, because we – purchased at an extravagant price – belong now and forever to none other than the celestial Champion.

Some things are so obvious that they’re not.

Pastor Charles

In his dystopian novel titled “1984,” George Orwell wrote: “The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.” Within just the last few days, I’ve seen lots of people using this quote as descriptive of what they’re observing of 2024 instead. Regardless of political persuasion, I think that we can all agree that the truth – particularly in the public square – is getting harder and harder to find. We find this unsettling, but I’m writing today to cheer you up, and to cheer you on.

In what’s perhaps the lowest point in his nation’s history, as it’s recorded for us in Ezekiel 47, the Lord gives the prophet an incredible vision. From the temple itself – constructed entirely on dry ground – a river is flowing! The vision is good news during a season of bad news. You may remember that there were a lot of sins, and a lot of unwise and tragic mistakes, that had landed God’s people in the mess they were in. They had rebelled against the God who claimed them as His own. God had given them the patriarchs. God had delivered them from the chains of slavery, by way of a great miracle that still served as the centerpiece of their shared history and identity. God had provided for them wondrously throughout their desert wanderings. God had established them as a nation. God had given them judges and kings. And God had never been less than absolutely faithful to them at every point along the way.

Now they’re divided and powerless and overtaken by their enemies. Their worship is corrupted. Their capital city has been invaded. Their temple is destroyed. They’re exiled and lost, in nearly every way that people can be lost. So God’s people are wrestling with reality. “How could we have landed here?” “How could God allow all of this to happen?” “Will we ever again know the favor of the Lord?” And, at this point in history, their problems have lingered for years.

Into all of that spiritual, social, moral, and political chaos, God speaks a fresh vision of hope! “Then he brought me back to the door of the temple, and behold, water was issuing from below the threshold of the temple toward the east …” (Ezekiel 47:1). What happens in the vision is nothing short of staggering. As Ezekiel moves “south of the altar” and “around on the outside to the outer gate,” the water continues to flow. At first, it’s just a trickle, but the farther away that Ezekiel moves, the more water he encounters. The Bible’s description moves from “ankle-deep” to “knee-deep” to “waist deep.” It’s fascinating. Finally, the river is so deep that Ezekiel can swim in it! Stunned Ezekiel is asked, “Have you seen this?”

My question is, “Have we seen this?” Every detail in the vision points to what only God can do: in us, for us, among us, and through us. And, I might add, in spite of us. What’s described is a river of living water. It starts in the temple. It starts in the place where God is worshipped. It starts in His people’s sacred space. It starts unnoticeably small. But small is only the beginning.

In the good Providence of our God, a tiny trickle of water … a mere teardrop from a place of humble prayer and sacrifice … grows into a stream … and then a river. And, where the river enters the sea – where the waters are stagnant and lifeless – the river makes the waters fresh! Such is the incomparable power of this living water. “When the water flows into the sea, the water will become fresh. And wherever the river goes, every living creature that swarms will live, and there will be very many fish. For this water goes there, that the waters of the sea may become fresh; so that everything will live where the river goes. Fishermen will stand beside the sea … And on the banks, on both sides of the river, there will grow all kinds of trees for food. Their leaves will not wither, nor their fruit fail, but they will bear fresh fruit every month, because the water for them flows from the sanctuary” (Ezekiel 47:8-12).

“Everything will live where the river goes.”

I don’t know about you, but I find this vision exceptionally promising. Even amidst all the trouble in which the U.S.A. finds itself, the Church has bona fide reason to set our hopes on the Giver of Life! Think about it. God wants us to see and to acknowledge that only He can bring life to a desert. In a culture and community with skeptics on every corner, where many of our neighbors mock our God, that’s where the Lord – through us – does His best work. We must trust Him. We must lean on Him. We must look to Him for the life of the Spirit. We celebrate an autumn harvest of crops, but what’s described here is a soul-harvest in every season. Nonstop! Jesus says to us, “Lift up your eyes and see that the fields are white for harvest” (John 4:35).

God gives Ezekiel – and ultimately us – a vision of a river so powerful that it can transform the landlocked Dead Sea. By way of reminder, the Dead Sea is aptly named. It’s dead. The Jordan flows into it, and nothing flows out of it. But our faithful God looks at a place like that and says, “Perfect! That’s where I’ll make a river of living water. That’s where I’ll bring life.” Surely, friends, we – individually or collectively – are not up against anything that our God can’t handle.

“Everything will live where the river goes.”

This vision represents a major turning point in the metanarrative of human history and in the grand story of our salvation in Christ. Among other important things, it’s a vision of the good news of the gospel. By Christ’s life, death, and resurrection, God brings us from death to life! The prophet has lived through a quarter of a century of his nation’s failure, a failure which broke his heart. But God gives Ezekiel a vision of a coming grace so amazing that it will overcome every obstacle in its path.

Why do I make that claim? Because of the New Testament. At least three times in his Gospel, the apostle John points us back to Ezekiel 47. With the beloved woman at the well, we discover – in the words of our Lord Jesus – God’s unmistakable promise of living water: “Whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:14). Later, as the Cross was approaching – during the Feast of Tabernacles – Jesus “stood up and cried out, ‘If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, “Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.”’ Now this he said about the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive …” (John 7:37-39). And, in the famous Passion account, when the soldiers pierced Christ’s side, we’re reminded that blood and water flowed (John 19:34).

“Everything will live where the river goes.”

In nearly every direction that we look today, we see evidence of what our Lord described as the “sinking sand” of spiritual lostness (Matthew 7:26-27). This may not be our lowest point, culturally or spiritually, but I think you agree that revival and renewal are desperately needed among God’s people. The challenges before us are significant, and perhaps overwhelming.

But we must not lose heart. Instead, it’s time to get to work! You and I must re-dig the wells of timeless truth so that spiritual refreshment can flow (see also Jeremiah 2:11-13). You and I must unstop the vital springs of faith that have been clogged by our neglect and worldliness. You and I must come to a new place of prayer and sacrifice. When is the last time that we sat in God’s presence long enough to know what He’s calling us to do in this fallen world?

May God visit us with a fresh and exhilarating vision of what it means to be a Christlike Church. May God help us – even in age of relativism – to put on the true character of Christ (Romans 13:14). May God grant us the grace to die to ourselves, that we may rediscover the joy of repentance and obedience. And may God take us deeper in faith than we’ve ever gone before.

“Everything will live where the river goes.”

Because of Jesus, we have a better word than Orwell’s. Much better, in fact. You and I have big responsibilities right now. The revival and renewal that the world needs start with us. And, wherever we go with the love and gospel of Christ, the river of grace just gets wider and wider. “The water for them flows from the sanctuary.”

If all you can do today is put your toe in the water, do it. The Spirit can take it from there. In the wake of the summer Olympics, I’m ready to swim. What say you?

Pastor Charles