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Foolishness to the Wise
"For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written: 'I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, And bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent.' Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of this world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world through wisdom did not know God, it pleased God through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe. For Jews request a sign, and Greeks seek after wisdom; but we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling block and to the Greeks foolishness, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men."- (1 Corinthians 1:18-25) Centuries before Paul wrote this passage, God drew an unmistakable contrast between His wisdom and ours in Isaiah 55:9, “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways, And My thoughts than your thoughts.” God, in His omniscience and eternity, has a vastly different perspective on the scope of history than any mere man ever had. Humanity can concoct intricate philosophies, to be certain—we have spent ages holed away in our little ivory towers, striving to achieve some sort of understanding of the world around us, laboring incessantly to ascribe meaning to our existence in that world. But God, the One to whom wisdom belongs (Daniel 2:20), has an entirely different view of the big picture—after all, He’s the one who orchestrated it! Here in 1 Corinthians, Paul zeroes in on what is perhaps the most glaring example of this diversion of viewpoints: the cross.
For those of us in the western world who have grown up in church, or have at least visited once or twice, the idea of the cross is so commonplace in our culture that it’s easy to take it for granted. Not many people really consider it. It’s just what happened; we acknowledge that it had to happen (although few pursue the question of why), and it has truthfully almost become cliché. Nothing about it seems foolish to us, because we have been so inundated with the concept, devoid of passion, that it seems normal and “just the way it had to be.” Jesus was born in a stable, died on a cross, rose again and went to heaven—we memorize the storyline, yet miss the substance. However, if we look at the cross for more than just a passing moment, it quickly becomes apparent that God’s choice of redemption was anything but the obvious logical route.
We see this in 1 Corinthians as Paul specifically calls the cross a stumbling block to the Jews and foolishness to the Greeks (who were the predominant Gentile people group of that area). In the day of Jesus’ first coming, the Jews were looking for the Messiah. They were well-read in the books of the Prophets—books which were bursting with descriptions of Messianic hope. They understood the scriptures that portrayed a Man who would come, who would trample Israel’s enemies and establish a new Jewish kingdom—one that would outshine even the past glory of Solomon’s empire. They were expecting a Man from God who would do great signs and wonders, overthrowing enemy nations in a blazing display of divine power. And in all these things, they were very right; Jesus will fulfill all these prophecies to a letter at His second coming. But His first coming, a coming in lowliness and gentleness, was simply not on the ancient Jews’ radar.
So when Jesus began His earthly ministry, showing great signs, healing the sick, and claiming status as the Son of God, many followed Him eagerly. This Man from Nazareth sure seemed to fit the bill as the long-promised Messiah, so much so that there was a time they wanted to make Him king by force (John 6:15). Surely this was the hour of their deliverance! Surely this was when the kingdom would be restored to them forever. Surely this was when the iron hand of the Roman government would be lifted from them. Surely this would not all end with the expected hero being beaten and killed by that same Roman government.
But that’s precisely what happened. It didn’t look like what they thought the Scriptures said—in fact, it looked like a complete bottoming out of promises they were banking on. They were hoping for deliverance from oppressive rule, and to some, it must have seemed like all this Man did was talk about His own death for forgiveness of sins. They were looking for a general to lead their charge, and God sent a Lamb being led to the slaughter. Many stumbled at this stumbling stone (Romans 9:22-23), and grew offended in their hearts at the One who is the very hope of Israel.
In contrast, the Greeks, or more generally, Gentiles, did not put much stock in Jewish prophecy. Neither were they looking for miraculous signs. Greek philosophers were dedicated to logically processing everything that crossed their path. (See Acts 17:21where they did nothing but sit around and discuss new philosophies!) The great philosophers of ancient Greece relied thoroughly on brainpower and reason to arrive at the solution to any problem they were addressed with. This was the people group that produced Alexander the Great, one of the most brilliant military strategists of history. They knew what it took to build a great empire, and they knew the elements that must be present in a world-class conqueror. Alexander, for instance, had all the ideal qualities; he was aggressive, calculated, and extremely well-resourced.
The logic is obvious. Kings aren’t born in stables. They are reared in the palace. Kings do not learn meager trades like carpentry; they concern themselves with much more important political matters. Kings lead vast armies against enemy nations—they most certainly do not die on crosses. But this King did—and to the Greeks, it just didn’t line up. It was foolishness.
And so we come to the great dividing line. According to worldly wisdom, Jesus looked foolish and weak on the cross—but in reality, He was shaking the very core of redemptive history, changing it forever. Man derided Him as incapable of saving even Himself, calling His sacrifice weakness—yet it was more powerful than all the armies of earth combined. Man, in all of his lofty philosophical reasoning, pointed a scoffing finger and called it foolishness—but in truth, it was the very wisdom of God. This was the sort of wisdom that inspired Paul’s outburst in Romans 11:33, “Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God!” And for all of our self-importance, humanity simply couldn’t see it.
So indeed, where now is the wise? Where is the scribe? And where is the disputer of this age? What eternal benefit is there in spinning great logical debates and putting forth lofty arguments? God has proved all of our self-made wisdom to be the basest of foolishness before Him. Where we would have been maneuvering to climb political ladders, God, in the person of His Son, humbled Himself to the utter depths. Where we would have called for aggression and force, He came with meekness and gentleness. Where our natural strategy would have been to wage war, He silently surrendered His life into the hands of His enemies.
The most glorious thing is that it actually worked. He did what no mere man could ever have done—He reconciled God and man to one another. He conquered all sin, and even death itself, once and for all. All of mankind’s strivings towards God returned to us utterly fruitless and void. We could not become righteous in our own strength. We could not escape our eternal doom through any amount of wisdom or cunning. But God, in a single heroic act of weakness and of foolishness—six hours on a cross and three days in the earth—did what our own might and prowess never could accomplish. Fallen humanity was redeemed from sin, and a holy God became approachable to us. And thus, we see the words of Paul—the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.
Whether They Hear...
“You shall speak My words to them, whether they hear or whether they refuse…” Ezekiel 2:7
I’m enrolled in a class right now that is studying the book of Ezekiel, and I was assigned to read chapters 1-5 and outline them. I was reading just to get an overview of what I was dealing with, and this phrase grabbed my heart: “…whether they hear or whether they refuse…”
God says this three times in chapters 2 and 3 of Ezekiel. He ends Ezekiel 3 with a statement that rings with unsettling finality, “…He who hears, let him hear; and he who refuses, let him refuse…”
I was surprised at how much my heart recoiled at this phrase. I want to speak God’s words to people—and then they
hear. As much as I want to rightly perceive and proclaim the word of the Lord, there’s something in me that still is squirming and fighting, something that wants to make it palatable. There’s something in me that still coddles to the fear of man, wanting to present something to the world that will be broadly accepted. He who hears, let him hear; and he who refuses… well, shouldn’t we soften things up a bit to try and convince him? Shouldn’t we find a less confronting, gentler way to win him over? Don’t we need to meet him in the middle? Can’t we negotiate on this one a little bit, Lord?
But God didn’t leave Ezekiel that option. He says, in no uncertain terms, “You
shall speak My words to them, whether they hear or whether they refuse…” (Ez. 2:7) God wasn’t interested in gaining anyone’s approval. He was interested in turning their hearts. He wasn’t concerned about public relations; He wanted corporate repentance. He wasn’t seeking good polls so He could be elected as president; He was calling for a heart change so He would be loved and revered as God. Well-meaning prophets tried to deliver a message that would set forth only His kindness in Jeremiah 23:16-17, and ended up completely misrepresenting His heart. They spoke of peace and prosperity to those who were rebelling against God, when the cry of the Lord’s heart was to warn them of impending disaster to drive them to repentance. These prophets disobeyed the Lord, compromised their own message, and strengthened the wicked in their evildoing in one fell swoop. God doesn’t want publicists and spin-doctors; He wants messengers who will deliver His word rightly—whether the people hear, or whether they refuse.
Yet it’s important to recognize that God wasn’t calling Ezekiel to cause people to refuse any more than He was expecting him to make them hear. God
wants to reach out to human beings. He doesn’t get sadistic pleasure out of offending and angering people. Jesus Himself rebuked the teachers of the law for “laying heavy burdens on men’s backs,” in regards to the commandment of God (see Luke 11:46). He indicts the priests of Malachi’s day for causing “many to stumble at the law [the word of God]” (Malachi 2:8). God’s zeal and love for His people thunders through Jeremiah 23:1, “Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of My pasture!” God’s goal is not to wound and offend, and He does not take it lightly when His messengers uphold that as their objective.
However, His goal is to do whatever it takes to get through to hardened hearts. He sees things from a perspective we’ll never fully know. He knows precisely what it will take to win hearts to Himself, and He knows who will believe and who will refuse.
The point is that God means what He says and says what He means. I have no need whatever to apologize for Him or assist Him with His tact. My part in the process is to agree with His heart, to long for His desires, and to love like He does, no matter what the message. My part is to speak faithfully what He has given me to say. It is my job to speak the words that He gives me. It is His job to turn the hearts.
So whether they hear, or whether they refuse, I must speak His words…
Jesus Christ, the Bridegroom-Judge
Who is this who comes from Edom, With dyed garments from Bozrah, This One who is glorious in His apparel, Traveling in the greatness of His strength? – “I who speak in righteousness, mighty to save." Why is Your apparel red, And Your garments like one who treads in the winepress? "I have trodden the winepress alone, And from the peoples no one was with Me. For I have trodden them in My anger, And trampled them in My fury; Their blood is sprinkled upon My garments, And I have stained all My robes. For the day of vengeance is in My heart, And the year of My redeemed has come."
(Isaiah 63:1-4 NKJV)
It was not so long ago that I would read verses like this in the Bible, skim over it, and keep going, looking for a happier passage. Quite honestly, I had no idea what to do with this. I knew that God was a God of love. I knew that Jesus was gentle and kind. I had a revelation of the Lord as my heavenly Bridegroom (Ephesians 5:32), so I couldn’t reconcile this kind of imagery with what I knew to be true of the character of God. I seldom heard verses like these brought up in church, and when I did, they were usually accompanied by a somewhat apologetic explanation of how God was full of wrath in the Old Testament, but after the death of Jesus, He “mellowed out,” so to speak.
Our biggest, and undoubtedly, our gravest problem is that we utterly misunderstand the heart of God in these types of passages. We have a handle on the goodness and grace of God, which is a crucial truth and vitally necessary for us to know—but, once having that, we apply our own definition of “goodness” to God and construct a cute little theological box to try and fit Him in. We reason that, if He is really good, then He must only do “good” things—i.e. things that make us feel good, things that don’t violate our societal taboo, things that are nice and pleasant and happy.
So when Jesus shows up in Scripture as a God of judgment, we don’t know what to do with Him. Our theology becomes threatened, our hearts draw back in offense, and we struggle to find some comfortable way to deal with the Word of God. Sometimes we philosophize and spiritualize it until it is reduced to vague, ultra-symbolic poetry that has little to no impact on real life today. Other times we try to classify it in a separate personality of God, distinct from the One we know—therefore creating either two “Gods,” or only one who snaps back and forth from fits of temper to loving tenderness. We then try to sweep the scary side of Him under the rug, a little embarrassed of Him in His wrath. Or perhaps we simply set the whole thing aside—massive portions of the Old Testament and significant parts of the New—and choose not to look at it, avoiding such controversy altogether. After all, ignorance is bliss, right? (At least, that’s how I handled it!)
But God is One. He is unchanging. Every word He has ever spoken about Himself is true—and what’s more, it’s tremendously important for us to know. God is not only a God of mercy or only a God of judgment. He is both, perfectly harmonizing the two aspects in one beautiful reality. Jesus, the same One who describes Himself in Matthew 11:29 as “gentle and lowly in heart,” tells us in Isaiah 63, “…The day of vengeance is in My heart…”
Paul issues the challenge in Romans 11:22, “Therefore consider the goodness and severity of God…” We need to lay down our own ideas about God and let Him speak for Himself in His Word.
So how do we reconcile verses like, “God is love” (1 John 4:16) with passages like Isaiah 63:1-4? How can we say that Jesus is both a tender Bridegroom and a righteous, powerful Judge without admitting some kind of contradiction? I find that the answer is best summed up in a very short verse:
“For jealousy is a husband’s fury; therefore he will not spare in the day of vengeance.”
(Proverbs 6:34)
The very fact that Jesus is a Bridegroom necessitates that He also be able to exercise judgment. His love necessitates His wrath; otherwise it wouldn’t truly be love. What sort of husband would sit by silently while some other man brutalized his wife? Who could smile and “make nice” with a guy who actively inflicts harm upon the woman he loves? Jesus is most certainly not that kind of husband. The day of vengeance is in his heart, and holy jealousy—zeal for His beloved—is His fury.
He is most certainly a God of love. He loves enough to convict my heart, rather than let me steep in my own sin. He loves enough not to let wickedness prosper forever on this fallen earth. He loves enough to set before us life and death, blessing and cursing, so that we may choose life. He desires our love and our whole hearts, so in His righteous jealousy, He will remove the things in our own lives we idolize. He loves us with everything that He has, and wants us to love Him the same way. Therefore He is also a God who judges.
The ultimate picture of this is in the cross. As a global people, we were all poised under the righteous judgment of God. He would have been perfectly justified in dusting us off of the slate of history, never to return. He could have condemned every one of us to the Lake of Fire and been right in doing so. But He is a God of love. He longed for us with holy jealousy. He yearned for us to be His people, to love Him with all of our heart, soul, mind, and strength. Jesus Himself prayed, only hours before He went to the cross, “Father, I desire that they also whom You gave Me may be with Me where I am…” (John 17:24)
The truth was that we didn’t deserve to be saved. The mercy of God moved Him to save us anyway. The righteousness and justice of God mandated that iniquity must be answered with wrath. The love of God brought reconciliation—peace with God—by crushing His own Son with that wrath. In the most severe judgment ever bestowed upon a man, “Mercy and truth have met together; Righteousness and peace have kissed” (Psalm 85:10). The cross is a simultaneous display of the love of God for humanity and the hatred of God towards sin.
The judgments of God are part of what makes Him so beautiful. Even His wrath is an outpouring of His love—and yes, an outpouring of His mercy. Jesus Christ is indeed a magnificent Bridegroom, and He is also a Judge, beautiful and terrifying.
And I wouldn’t desire Him any other way.
What does the Lord Require of Me?
With what shall I come before the LORD, And bow myself before the High God? Shall I come before Him with burnt offerings, With calves a year old? Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, Ten thousand rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, The fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?
He has shown you, O man, what is good; And what does the LORD require of you But to do justly, To love mercy, And to walk humbly with your God?
(Micah 6:6-8 NKJV)
What does the Lord require of me? What can I give Him that would please Him?
It seems to be the way of humanity to try and find ways to appease God, especially when we've run head-on into our own brokenness. We take one look at our failings and our weakness, and know instinctively that we must somehow make up for it in the eyes of God. If we are to be acceptable in His sight, we must give Him something or do something for Him--or, at least, so the reason goes.
But the Lord has different ideas. Regarding sacrifices, He says in Psalm 50:12, "If I were hungry, I would not tell you; For the world is Mine, and all its fullness." He's essentially saying, "You're missing the point. I don't need your stuff. I don't want your stuff." There's something else that He's after.
Since we find out very quickly that the Lord isn't that impressed by our elaborate sacrifices, we resort to other means of recompense. This is where so many unattainable vows are born. "I promise, God, I'll never do such-and-such again for as long as I live..." "Lord, I want to show You how much I really do care about You, so I'm going to witness to at least one person every day..." "I'm going to be a good Christian--I swear that I'll read 50 chapters a day in my Bible if it kills me..." We feel we must offer God some kind of service to make up for the fact that we're messed up, goofy human beings. The problem, then, is that since we are messed-up, goofy human beings, our well-intentioned promises easily fall to the ground unfulfilled, whereupon we grit our teeth and vow that we really will do it this time--no, really--because we have to do this for God, or else. Then we stumble again, and then we up the ante again, so we make another vow, etc., etc., etc. It becomes a sort of death spiral, albeit a sincere one, that propels itself straight into self-condemnation.
And in the middle of this, we don't realize that we're still missing the point. Daniel 7:10 gives us a breathtaking picture of the throneroom of the the Ancient of Days: it describes His brilliant appearance, His fiery throne, and then goes on to say "...A thousand thousands ministered to Him; Ten thousand times ten thousand stood before Him..."
It sounds like God is pretty well set for servants.
So what does the Lord require? What does He ask from this weak race of humans who struggle to live for Him but so often miss the mark?
To do justly. He does want us to live in a life of integrity and purity. He wants us to walk according to the ways of righteousness and justice. It doesn't take much reading to discover that He cares intensely about the holiness standard in our lives. He loves righteousness and hates wickedness (Psalm 45:7), and wants to see us living uprightly, without compromise and sin. But this is only the beginning...
To love mercy. I believe that this is applicable to us in the sense of us extending mercy and compassion to others, but I also believe it reaches even deeper. We are to love the mercy of the Lord. When we are sincerely pursuing Him, sincerely reaching for righteousness, and then we sincerely blow it, we are to love His mercy.
This is the God who gave His only Son on our behalf. This is Jesus, who is the brightness of God's glory and the express image of His person--the eternal, living Word of God--who became flesh. It will boggle your mind if you pause to consider it. This is the God who came after us when we were enemies of Him. This is the God who loved us and gave Himself for us, when the only thing we deserved was eternal condemnation. This is the God who saw me--the weak, broken, flawed person that I am--and said, "I want that one." This is the God who looked at you and said the same thing. He delights in mercy. If we really stop and consider, if we take our eyes off of our failings for a moment and truly gaze at the unfathomable mercy of God, it will completely undo our hearts. It will cause us to love Him for it.
To walk humbly with your God. This is the crux. God isn't after what we can give Him. He didn't save us so He could make us do things for Him. He wants our hearts. He wants our affection. He's longing for our love. We belong to a God who is madly in love with us. Do we realize what that means?This is so liberating to understand! When we stumble, when we collide with our sin nature, when we fall short of the standard we know we want to live up to, God's opinion of us hasn't changed. He wants our love, and He wants our hearts; if that much is still in line, we still have hope...When we have a handle on this, and we begin to know and love the mercy of God, it will anchor our hearts. It will cause us to walk humbly with God when we realize His magnificent love and mercy. It will actually drive us to deeper holiness when we realize that we're not striving for some unreachable goal; rather, we're growing and maturing, step by step, under the care of a God who is crazy about us.So what does the Lord require of me? He wants my sincere love. He wants a life that reflects that love.He wants my whole heart.Jesus said..."You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and great commandment" (Matthew 22:37-38 NKJV).
Mountain of Myrrh
Song of Solomon 4:6* "Until the day breaks and the shadows flee away, I will go my way to the moutnain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense."
The Song of Solomon is a book that has absolutely transformed my life. It's a prophetic demonstration of the love between Christ and His bride--the church--and to make it even more personal, between Him and me. Ephesians 5:22-32 describes marriage, and culminates with Paul's declaration in verse 32, "This is a great mystery, but I speak concerning Christ and the church". God has established marriage to point to the deep, unimaginable love that He has for us. Song of Solomon, then, as a beautiful poetic picture of biblical romance, is likewise a demonstration of the love of Jesus Christ.
There is so much that could be said for this book that I can't post it all here. But this verse, 4:6, has been especially near to my heart lately. I interpret this to be the voice of the bride, saying to the One she loves, "Until the day breaks... I will go my way to the mountain of myrrh..."
I wanted to name this blog for the mountain of myrrh because of how the bride says, "I will go my way." I cannot walk out someone else's journey. God is infinitely huge and wise, and knows precisely how to win the heart of those who say "yes" to Him. The path He leads me on will not look like the path He leads another on. His character is never once compromised, and He always upholds His Son as the only Way, Truth, and Life, and no one comes to the Father but by Him (John 14:6). Yet within that, we each have our own journey, our own way to go as we follow His footsteps. Some may be called to the mission field. Others are drawn away in secret into their prayer closets for many long hours at a time, day after day, year after year. Some are set in full-time ministry, and others are sent into the marketplace. All are called to the unbelievably amazing journey into the depths of the heart of God, encountering Him in His word, in prayer, in fasting, and in worship. I hope to use this blog to catch a few glances along the road as I go my own way to the mountain of myrrh--and I pray it will provoke you to embark on your own pursuit of the knowledge of Jesus Christ.
Myrrh was a burial spice in ancient days, and is used throughout the Bible to speak of suffering. It makes this verse almost frightening to pray--the mountain of myrrh sounds much less enticing when we see that we will most assuredly bump into pain along the way. But the language is no different than what Jesus Himself used.
"If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it" (Matthew 16:24-25).
If we desire to follow Him, we must let go of our life. We must not cling to what we hold to be so valuable in this world. Everything on this earth that we could work for and strive for--wealth, success, a great name, or even a noble cause--is fading away before our very eyes. In truth, what is seventy years in light of eternity? It's only a breath and a vapor. We all waste our lives on something, and I want to waste mine in pursuit of the eternal God, to know His heart, experience His emotions, and have His Word written on my heart.
The bride declares she will go her way, "Until the day breaks..." The break of day, to me, speaks of the coming of Jesus to this earth once again. (See Psalm 46:5; Malachi 4:2; 2 Thessalonians 2:8b; Revelation 1:16c) So until the day breaks, until I at last see His face, until He returns to establish His kingdom on the earth, I will pursue Him with everything I have. I want to love Him with all of my heart, my soul, my mind, and my strength. I want to be tenderhearted to His touch. I want my heart to be moved when I hear His name mentioned. The only thing of value I can do with my time on this earth is to seek His face, to love Him, and to behold His beauty (Psalm 27:4). This is my ultimate purpose in life, the one thing that I desire...
*(All Scriptures referenced are New King James Version, unless otherwise noted)
