The Joy of the Lord

"Faith may dance because Christ sings; and we may come in the quire [choir] and lift our hoarse and rough voices, and chirp, and sing, and shout for joy with our Lord Jesus."
--Samuel Rutherford

Have you ever been happy because someone you love is happy? You so identify with them that you enter into their delight and victory.

That's what Rutherford means, I think, when he speaks of our joy "because Christ sings." We are in Him, the Scriptures say. His death, burial, and resurrection become ours. And it is His joy that is our strength (cf. Nehemiah 8:10).

Pursuing Him, we may enter His victory and that brings joy. By faith to see the satisfaction in His eyes, to feel Him full of power and triumph, to know He knows He has won everything and that everyone He loves will come home and be with Him forever - there is joy.

The hollow alternative is to look for joy somewhere else: the fleeting affirmations of others, the pleasures of the flesh, our own temporary successes. In the end this is the way of despair.

I would rather try, and pray He gives me a greater vision, to see the light of His face, to imagine His voice like thunder, to settle in with all the great and small, the rulers and kings and shepherds and shopkeepers and soldiers and construction workers and single moms and little kids, to adore Him together, with never a thought of any glory but His. O, what joy, to shout and sing and laugh and clap and whistle and stomp and pray, all together: Worthy is the Lamb!

The "Rough Companion" Who Leads Us to Christ

I've spoken often about Samuel Rutherford’s little book The Loveliness of Christ. Like our Savior, Rutherford was a man of sorrows. He suffered many heartaches and set-backs in life, including persecution for his faith. His wife died after a long and painful illness. Except for one daughter, all the children she and Samuel had died at an early age.

But God used his trials to bless and encourage others. Rutherford wrote hundreds of letters to people in his church, and The Loveliness of Christ is a collection of selected quotes. It is one of the most encouraging and Christ-centered works I’ve ever read. (I recommend you get your own copy: click here).

I picked up the little red book the night after Dionne came home from the hospital, and read the following. (Because he wrote in the 1600’s, I've added a few footnoted words of explanation).

He cutteth off your love to the creature¹, that ye might learn that God only is the right owner of your love, sorrow, loss, sadness, death, or the worst things that are, except sin:² but Christ knoweth well what to make of them, and can put his own in the crosses common³, that we shall be obliged to affliction, and thank God, who learned us to make our acquaintance with such a rough companion, who can hale us to Christ⁴.

1.  The Lord uses suffering to wean us from dependence upon anything else (“the creature”) except Christ.
2. God is sovereign, and controls and orders all things. Even the hardest things are under His hand. 
3.  Jesus outfits us with our own crosses, and does so for our good and His glory.
4.  Suffering, a “rough companion,” hales (draws, pulls) us to Jesus.

Whatever you’re going through is under Christ’s control. The hands that hold your life and times, suffering and sorrow, have the nail-marks to prove His love for you. You may not know why, but you always know Who. And He is the kindest, wisest, and most powerful Person in the universe.

What's In It For Me?

Another Christian pastor was just beheaded for his faith in the Muslim-majority nation of Tanzania. You could read more about it here and here.

I thought about that pastor's sacrifice last night when I read these words from Hebrews 12:4: In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. Thus far in my Christian life and in my service as a pastor, my sacrifices have been small. And sadly the gospel today is often preached only to answer the question, What's in it for me?

But Jesus frequently appoints suffering and even martyrdom for His disciples. I often refer to the writings of Samuel Rutherford, the Scottish Puritan pastor. Among Rutherford's letters was one written to another pastor, James Guthrie. Guthrie, who had been converted by association with Rutherford, took a stand that was branded treason by Charles II, the English king. Guthrie was sentenced to be hanged.

Rutherford wrote to him in prison. Think it not strange that men devise against you; whether to be to exile, the earth is the Lord’s; or perpetual imprisonment, the Lord is your light and liberty; or a violent and public death, for the kingdom of heaven consisteth in a fair company of glorified martyrs and witness, of whom Jesus Christ is the chief witness, who for that cause was born, and came into the world. Happy are you, if you give testimony to the world of your preferring Jesus Christ to all powers.” Rutherford, p.101.

Three months later Guthrie was hanged in Edinburgh, and his head was cut off and fixed to a pike in the public square. 

What if "what's in it for us" is a witness (Greek: "martyr") to the worthiness of Christ with our own blood? Paul, beheaded for his faith, wrote from Roman house-arrest: For it has been granted to you that for the sake of Christ you should not only believe in him but also suffer for his sake (Philippians 1:29).

You Have to Read the Last Chapter

I grew up reading James A. Michener’s sprawling, historical novels - like The Source, Hawaii, and Chesapeake. I became so engrossed in the novel Centennial that I kept it in the car while I was driving. At every stop light I would read a few sentences until the light changed.

I was deep into the characters of Levi Zendt and his bride Elly, young newlyweds from Pennsylvania, making their way west by covered wagon. Although their story takes place in the early 1800’s, somehow I identified with them and wanted to see them do well. My heart went out to the young couple, with all their hopes and dreams, as they faced adversity together.

So while driving around town, I stopped at a red light and opened the book again. Levi and Elly had reached the Rocky Mountains, and had just discovered they were going to have a baby. Then, in the space of about two sentences, a rattlesnake struck Elly in the throat and she died.

Noooooooo! You can't do that! I yelled. I hurled the book into the backseat just as the light turned green. I can't believe it! Why would anyone write a story this way!

It probably sounds a little nuts, but I was angry at James A. Michener. Why would he bring so much suffering into the lives of characters I had come to love? I vowed never to pick up the book again.

Kindest When We Are Weakest

I know, we may say that Christ is kindest in his love when we are at our weakest; and that, if Christ had not been in the fore, in our sad days, the waters had gone over our soul. - Samuel Rutherford

The quote is from the little book I often refer to, The Loveliness of Christ, a collection of excerpts from the letters of the Scottish pastor Samuel Rutherford. These short quotes have been a great blessing to me. (Maybe you’ll want to order a copy for yourself? Click here.)

Do you believe he’s right—that “Christ is kindest when we are weakest?” And what would that mean if it’s true? If you belong to Him, I think it means…

• When you are most vulnerable to temptation, likely to stumble, rather than watching for you to fail and preparing to be disgusted, Christ looks upon you with compassion and love.
• When you’re carrying burdens that have already bowed your back and nearly brought you to your knees, our kind Lord is not annoyed that you’ve tried to lift something that too heavy for you, but instead is all the more ready to carry the burden for you.
• When you’re depressed and sad, His posture is not impatience but tenderness.
• When you’re overwhelmed with circumstances where disaster seems inevitable, He will lead you through.
• When someone you love is struggling and you are powerless to help them, Christ is listening to your prayers and is still mighty to save.
• When you’ve done your best but it seems no good has come of it, Jesus still uses your feeble efforts in ways you’d never expect, with impact that only He could produce.
• When you’re too weak to cling to Him, He’ll never lose His grip on you.

Rutherford is right. Jesus really is kindest when we are weakest.  Actually the Apostle Paul heard Christ promise this very thing when he was feeling particularly overwhelmed and broken. Paul begged Christ to take away a “thorn in the flesh” but instead, Jesus told him:  My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9a).

Which led Paul to declare, with joy, Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong (2 Corinthians 12:9b-10).

I never get tired of saying this: we have a wonderful Savior.             

The Good Kind of Jealousy

I am most gladly content that Christ breaketh all my idols in pieces: it hath put a new edge upon my blunted love to Christ. I see he is jealous of my love, and will have all to himself.

One of my heroes, Samuel Rutherford, wrote that over 350 years ago, but as I read it again recently, it seemed almost too good to be true. Christ is jealous of my love? He wants it "all to himself?" Really?

The truth that God is a jealous God is familiar to me. I the LORD your God am a jealous God (Exodus 20:5). I've always associated that holy jealousy as a passion for His own glory. 

But can it actually be true that the precious Lord Jesus not only is jealous for His glory, but also actually desires my fellowship? Sometimes I am so sick of my own company that I can’t imagine why the God of the universe would bother, even after He has redeemed me. But He does.

God’s word says the Lord Jesus is a like a bridegroom who not only has redeemed His bride, but has an ongoing, purifying ministry to her until they can be together forever (Ephesians 5:25-27). 

Here's what I know from Scripture:

• I don't have anything within me to attract the love of Jesus (Romans 7:18a; Romans 3:10ff).
• Yet He wanted me and chose me for Himself before I was ever born (Ephesians 1:4; Romans 8:28-30).
• In choosing me He determined to die in my place, reckoning all my sins as His and all His righteousness as mine (2 Corinthians 5:21; Galatians 3:13).
• He continues to love me and seek my fellowship, even though I am often a fickle friend and faithless follower (Ephesians 5:25-27).
• He has promised me that I will be with Him in heaven, which is the absolute best thing that could ever happen to me, and yet somehow my being there brings Him glory (John 14:1-3; cf. John 17:20-26).
• Maybe Rutherford is right: maybe He is jealous of my love, and wants it all to Himself.

I’ve been a Christian over 40 years, and I’m still getting used to the idea that Jesus loves me that much.

The Loveliness of Christ (Rutherford)

A couple weeks ago I posted some quotes from The Loveliness of Christ, a little book excerpted from the letters of Samuel Rutherford. Like our Lord, Rutherford was a man of sorrows. The pain of losing his first wife and of outliving all but one of his children gave him a longing for heaven and a winsome way of helping others in their suffering.

I hope some of you ordered his little book. I think you’ll be glad you did. Click here for the link.

To whet your appetite (hopefully), here are a few more quotes.

Every day we may see some new thing in Christ. His love hath neither brim nor bottom.

When I look over beyond the line and beyond death, to the laughing side of the world, I triumph, and rise upon the places of Jacob…

Our fair morning is at hand, the daystar is near the rising, and we are not many miles from home; what matters the ill entertainment in the smoky inns of this miserable life? We are not to stay here, and we will be dearly welcome to him when we go to.

The sea-sick passenger shall come to land; Christ will be the first that will meet you on the shore.

She is not sent away, but only sent before, like unto a star, which going out of your sight, doth not die and vanish, but shineth in another hemisphere; ye see her not, yet she doth shine in another country.

The Loveliness of Christ

Sam was the oldest child of a wealthy farmer. He was a good student, and got a master’s degree by the time he was 21. His family was religious without really knowing Christ.

He ended up becoming a teacher, but after only two years, was forced to resign. He was said to have “behaved inappropriately” with a young woman. He married the girl.

This scandal led to Sam’s becoming a Christian, going back to school, and entering the ministry. He spent nine years as the pastor of a country church, and an older colleague said of him, “”He seemed to be always praying, always preaching, always visiting the sick…I thought he would have flown out of the pulpit when he came to speak of Jesus Christ. He was never in his right element but when he was commending him.”

This young man was, like Jesus, a man of sorrows. His wife died after a long and painful illness. Except for one daughter, all the children she and Sam had died at an early age.

His own suffering led him to be a comfort to thousands of others. When the government forced him out of his church, he wrote many letters to his former church members. These letters are remarkable for their wisdom about life, suffering, and especially about the sweetness of communion with Christ.

Sam’s full name is Samuel Rutherford, and he lived in Scotland from 1600 – 1661. (The biographical info I took from Joel Beeke's Meet the Puritans, pp. 721ff).

Here are a few beautiful quotes from some of Samuel Rutherford's letters.

The great Master Gardener, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, in a wonderful providence, with his own hand, planted me here, where by his grace, in this part of his vineyard, I grow; and here I will abide till the great Master of the vineyard think fit to transplant me.

They are not lost to you that are laid up in Christ’s treasury in heaven. At the resurrection ye shall meet with them: there they are, sent before but not sent away. Your Lord loveth you, who is homely to take and give, borrow and lend.

I have little, little of him; yet I long for more.

He taketh the bairns [children] in his arms when they come to a deep water; at least, when they lose ground, and are put to swim, then his hand is under their chin.

Let him make anything out of me, so being he be glorified in my salvation: for I know I am made for him.

My dear brother, I will think it comfort if ye speak my name to our Well-Beloved wherever ye are. I am mindful of you.

Rutherford “admired Christ,” and his writings from so long ago are helping me to admire Him, too. Maybe you’d like to get a copy of the little book I took the above quotes from. It’s called The Loveliness of Christ. (Click here for the link.)