We cannot live with the presumption that our faith will never be tested, that we will never have to endure persecution, or that, as was the case with Job, the enemy will ask to sift us. For anyone who thinks it’s a one-off, that the only person throughout the entirety of scripture that Satan asked to sift was Job, you would be mistaken. Jesus Himself warned Simon that not only had Satan asked to sift him, but also all the disciples at that time.
Luke 22:31-32, “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift all of
you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail.
And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.”
If there is a biblical precedent for something, and repeated
warnings throughout scripture that as wise servants we ought to be watchful, on
guard, and aware that we have an enemy seeking to devour us, it is to our detriment
that we dismiss them wholesale for the promise of some grinning face on a
screen telling us it’s all gravy trains and biscuit wheels from here to
eternity.
Paved roads, sunshine, and rainbows aplenty, and if,
perchance, you get tired of all the blessings, prosperity, and inflow of
miracle money, just you wait until your next breakthrough. It’ll make this one
seem like child’s play, an accounting error, walking around money, because with
each new seed you sow, your coffers will overflow exponentially.
In essence, we are dismissing what the Bible clearly warns of
and embracing the things it never promised, all in the hope that God was wrong,
man is right, and easy street is just around the corner.
Fish in a barrel is an apt metaphor for much of the contemporary
church, and if we’re honest with ourselves, we’ve got no one to blame for our
divided, lukewarm hearts but the face staring back in the mirror. We were told
to build up our most holy faith, but decided tomorrow, next week, or next year
suited us better, so we put it off. We were told to pray for boldness,
strength, and steadfastness, but decided calling money down from heaven would
be a better use of our time. We were told he who endures to the end shall be
saved, but the promise of a beachside stroll rather than a marathon was more
attractive, so we’re looking out the window every thirty seconds, wondering why
Jesus is late in His returning.
A wise man builds his house upon the rock because he knows that
once the storm comes, there is nowhere to run, nowhere to evacuate to, and his
spiritual house must be strong enough and built on the proper foundation so
that it will weather the storm.
Conversely, a foolish man builds his house upon the sand
because in the back of his mind, he believes he will no longer be here when the
storm arrives. We can either use the time of relative peace we have left
preparing for the battle that is coming, or stare at our navels, hoping it will
never come. One will fare better than the other every time.
There’s a meme going around of a sign posted by a lakeshore,
likely somewhere in Florida, that reads “Crocodiles do not swim here.” It’s
meant as a warning, but because an exclamation mark is missing between
“crocodiles” and “do not swim here,” one could misinterpret the sign and
cannonball into the water without a second thought. Do we blame the sign
exclusively, or does some of the blame fall at the feet of the individual who
ignores the frothing waters, whipping tails, and chomping teeth of the crocodiles
eagerly awaiting their next meal?
There is no such ambiguity in scripture when it comes to the
believer’s role, purpose, or expectation while journeying through this world.
You can’t misread the repeated passages warning of the environment of the last
days, the enemy’s hatred, the vitriol of the wicked against those walking in
righteousness, or the reality that we are in enemy territory. Our citizenship
is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus
Christ. If we are more comfortable among the enemies of the cross than we are
among those carrying their crosses, are we truly followers of Jesus?
Just because they are uncomfortable, we can’t skip over the
words of Jesus, who, in light of the reality that the world will hate us for
His name’s sake, counseled that we ought to count the cost and see if we’re
willing to pay it in full.
Not all will be called to sacrifice their positions or
possessions, but some will. Not all will be called to spend endless nights in a
cold cell, but some will. Not all will be called to suffer a martyr’s death,
but some will. What we know with certainty is that everyone who calls Jesus
Lord, everyone who has humbled themselves, picked up their cross, and followed
after Him, will be hated, and if they desire to live godly in Him, they will
suffer persecution. On what level, to what extent, for how long, or when is on
a case-by-case basis, but all means all, and we can’t reimagine Scripture to
say something different just because the truth makes us uneasy.
The day may come when those closest to you, those you
consider friends and family, will see you as an oddity, as someone who brought
suffering on themselves for refusing to bend, make allowances, or compromise,
seeing no further, digging no deeper, content with passing judgment and using
your situation as a cautionary tale of what not to do.
At this point, if there is any lingering doubt in your heart,
if you are not fully committed to the way of Christ, if the willingness to
forfeit all the comforts of life and even life itself are not the overarching
themes of your existence, the enemy will exploit the situation to the point of slowing
your stride, stunting your surefootedness, and causing you to grow reticent
about running into the arms of Jesus.
It will usually come via the tried-and-true “has God indeed
said?” and the often-used “what if?” all the while insisting that it’s plain
common sense to question, to query, and to wonder. The problem is that God has
indeed said that the soul that sins will die, Jesus did indeed say that if we
deny Him before men He will deny us before the Father in heaven, so it’s no
longer an honest query or a request for clarification on a particular matter,
it’s disobedience and rebellion, plain and simple.
Job knew all that he needed to know in order to endure. He
didn’t know if he would be healed, he didn’t know if his wealth would be
restored, he didn’t know whether he would have more children, or if he’d
survive the night but he knew that his Redeemer lived, and no matter what
Zophar and his other two friends attempted, no matter how far they went in the
hope of discouraging him, or compelling him to question his innocence or
relationship with God, he would not.
With love in Christ,
Michael Boldea, Jr.
No comments:
Post a Comment