what I'm reading: John Stott on sowing to the flesh

I love this quote from John Stott. It sums up everything I said in my post on change the other day (at least about not sowing to sin) and says it much better than I could!

To ‘sow to the flesh’ is to pander to it, to cosset, cuddle and stroke it, instead of crucifying it … Every time we allow our mind to harbour a grudge, nurse a grievance, entertain an impure fantasy, or wallow in self-pity, we are sowing to the flesh. Every time we linger in bad company whose insidious influence we know we cannot resist, every time we lie in bed when we ought to be up and praying, every time we read pornographic literature, every time we take a risk which strains our self-control, we are sowing, sowing, sowing to the flesh. Some Christians sow to the flesh every day and wonder why they do not reap holiness.

quoted in chapter 8 of Tim Chester's You Can Change

image is by IRRI Images 2 from flickr

what I'm reading: the devil on suffering from The Briefing

I really enjoyed the article How to avoid persecution (according to Screwtape) in the last Briefing.

It's written (you guessed it!) as if by an older demon to younger demons on the topic of persecution and suffering.

This bit rang particularly true to me:

For the one who is experiencing it, suffering is a total reality - all-embracing, all-consuming. It threatens to obliterate everything but itself. The presence of pain and the possibility of relief dominate the sufferer's thoughts, emotions and actions. To offset this domination, the Enemy offers a consolation that is based on counterbalancing the long view against the short...

For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Cor 4:17-18)

The present is, well, so present, it is hard to think past it. And it is harder still to think of accepting real, immediate suffering for the sake of a hoped future happiness that can only be glimpsed by faith...Stop him from thinking of ultimate, eternal things. Get him thinking that his suffering is lasting. And whisper into his heart that the Enemy has betrayed him. Rob him of all hope.

When we're blinded by suffering, may God help us to listen to his word instead of Satan's whispered words, and to take the long view, not the short!

women of the Bible (1b) Eve - temptation and the garden

All our temptations are garden temptations.

I don't usually talk much about gardening when I lead Bible studies, but recently during our study on Genesis 3, I asked, “What does the Garden of Eden show us about God?”

The answer? God is abundantly generous. He didn't give Adam and Eve a dry loaf and a cup of water; he gave them a beautiful garden brimming with varied, wonderful fruitful plants to eat and enjoy (Gen 2:9).

And what was God's word to the people he'd made? “Eat! Eat freely from every tree in the garden!”* There was only one tree they weren't to eat from, and that was “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” (Gen 2:16-17). In other words, the only thing they weren't to do was to rip God's authority away from him, and decide good and evil for themselves.

But that's not the way Eve saw it.

“Did God really say ...?”, said the serpent. You can hear the unstated question: “What was God thinking?! Why is he withholding this good thing from you?” (Gen 3:1).

What's Eve's answer? “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden, but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the midst of the garden, neither shall you touch it, lest you die’” (Gen 3:2-3**). She changes God's generous “We are free to eat fruit from any tree”, to the grudging “We may eat fruit from the trees”. She changes God's protective command—“You must not eat”—to the restrictive: “You must not touch”. And as for “you will die”, “No you won't”, whispers the serpent's lie (Gen 3:4-5).

God gives us good things, but we want the one thing he hasn't given us. God gives us guidelines, but we fence them around with legalistic restrictions. God warns us, but we repress his warnings. God is lavishly generous, but we see him as grudging.

Driving home from the Bible study, it occurred to me that I imitate my mother Eve every time I sin. God gives me so many good things. But I can't see his generosity. All I can see is the thing he hasn't given me.

He gives me the precious ministry of teaching and training our children; I want the glory of a more public, recognized ministry! He gives me food and possessions; I want more than is good for me—more than we can afford! He gives me a secure home and a loving family; I want a husband who treats me like that woman's husband, children who act more like that woman's children and a beautiful house like that woman's house!

In the back of my mind, God is a grudging tyrant who is trying to keep good things from me. The result is foolish idolatry, unwise decisions and grumpy service. The result is discontent, envy, despondency, anger, anxiety and fear. The result is broken relationships and shame.

God is no grudging tyrant; God is abundantly generous. God isn't trying to keep good things from me. In all that happens, God wants only my good (Rom 8:28-30). God isn't trying to restrict my happiness; God's ways are good ways.

Next time I'm tempted, Lord, help me to see things the way they really are!

* The NIV says “freely”; the ESV says “surely”. In the original, it's the emphatically generous “eating you do eat”.

** Gordon Wenham observes that Eve changes God's words—“You may freely eat of every garden tree”—to the less generous “We may eat of the fruit ...” (Word Biblical Commentary, Vol. 1: Genesis 1-15, Thomas Nelson, Nashville, 1987, p. 73).

This article first appeared in Sola Panel.

images are from claudmay and Mysserli at flickr, and stock.xchng

believing the deceiver

I had the most glorious walk this morning. It was one of those sun-drenched Spring mornings, with a cool, crisp breeze, and the air was fresh and clear. Every dancing shadow was sharp-etched and lovely, every finely veined leaf suffused with a deeper meaning, every branch lifted a multitude of tiny twigs to the sky in praise to God.

It was one of those rare times when my eyes were unclouded by tiredness, guilt, discouragement, or illness, and the world seemed fair and unspoiled, like it was made new this morning just for me.

It struck me that this was a small taste of how Adam and Eve must have seen the world, in all its shining newness, when they walked with God in the morning of the world, and discovered its beauties for the first time, through eyes unmarred by sin, doubt, and sorrow.

It made me wonder why they gave all this up to follow their own path away from God. It's not much of a deal is it: "Here, swap this fantastic and wonderful beauty, this serenity and bliss, this tender enjoyment of one another, this intimate walk with God, for a world filled with despair, misery, decay, confusion, pain, and death."

But of course that's not the choice that was presented to them. Satan painted the way he wanted them to take in bright and glowing colours: "God didn't really say that you would die! He's actually trying to keep from you the greatest secret of all: the knowledge of good and evil."

Little did they know the desolation that an inner knowledge of evil would produce.

And is it any different for us? We also hear the taunting, lying words of Satan, the great Deceiver, whispering in our ears, accusing us, challenging us, and tempting us with false promises of wisdom and happiness.

"God can't really have meant he would forgive you, it's obvious that you're beyond the reach of his forgiveness, you've been struggling with this sin for years!" "You don't really believe the Bible, do you, no intelligent person takes it seriously any more." "Perhaps if you expressed your anger...bought this one thing...gave into temptation just this once...you would feel comforted, fulfilled, happier."

Like Adam and Eve, we're tempted by the promise of something better, wiser, more plausible. What we don't remember when we listen to Satan's lies, is that we're giving up all that really matters, all that deeply satisfies, all that is joyful, and meaningful, and true, for a lie that will leave only bitterness and despair in its wake.

And if this world can sometimes be so heart-breakingly lovely, imagine what heaven will be like. Now there's a promise worth believing.

see Genesis 1-3; John 8:44; 2 Corinthians 11:3