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Not Desiring That Any Should Perish

Published: 8 January 2017
Written by Dean Davis
2 Comments
Categories: Quintessential Quotes, Theology

The Lord is not delaying his promise in the way some people think about delays,

but is longsuffering toward you, not desiring that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.

(1 Peter 5:9)

 

Here is a thoughtful theological note from the editors of the NET Bible, one that not only sheds light on a difficult text, but also carries us deeper into the heart of God, teaching us to love all, be patient with all, and desire that all might be saved.

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This verse has been a battleground between Arminians and Calvinists. The former argue that God wants all people to be saved, but either through inability or restriction of his own sovereignty does not interfere with peoples’ wills. Some of the latter argue that the “any” here means “any of you” and that all the elect will repent before the return of Christ, because this is God’s will.

Both of these positions have problems. The “any” in this context means “any of you.” (This can be seen by the dependent participle which gives the reason why the Lord is patient “toward you.”) There are hints throughout this letter that the readership may be mixed, including both true believers and others who are “sitting on the fence” as it were. But to make the equation of this readership with the elect is unlikely. This would seem to require, in its historical context, that all of these readers would be saved. But not all who attend church know the Lord or will know the Lord. Simon the Magician, whom Peter had confronted in Acts 8, is a case in point. This is evident in contemporary churches when a pastor addresses the congregation as “brothers, sisters, saints, etc.,” yet concludes the message with an evangelistic appeal. When an apostle or pastor addresses a group as “Christian” he does not necessarily think that every individual in the congregation is truly a Christian.

Thus, the literary context seems to be against the Arminian view, while the historical context seems to be against (one representation of) the Calvinist view.

The answer to this conundrum is found in the term “wish” (a participle in Greek from the verb boulomai). It often represents a mere wish, or one’s desiderative will, rather than one’s resolve or purpose. Unless God’s will is viewed on the two planes of his desiderative and decretive will (what he desires and what he decrees), hopeless confusion will result. The scriptures amply illustrate both that God sometimes decrees things that he does not desire and desires things that he does not decree. It is not that his will can be thwarted, nor that he has limited his sovereignty. But the mystery of God’s dealings with humanity is best seen if this tension is preserved. Otherwise, either God will be perceived as good but impotent or as a sovereign taskmaster. Here the idea that God does not wish for any to perish speaks only of God’s desiderative will, without comment on his decretive will.

At Home in the Sky

Published: 29 October 2016
Written by Dean Davis
2 Comments
Categories: Devotionals

 

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

Heb. 11:1

 

It’s midnight in the mountains, and you’re sound asleep in your cabin. Suddenly you’re awakened by a strong desire to get up, go outside, and look at the sky. You do, and to your amazement it’s pitch black. All around you is inky darkness; you are adrift, dizzy, almost nauseated in a sea of nothingness. You rush back into the cabin, turn on the light, and anxiously wait for the dawn, wondering if you’ve gone mad.

The next night, the same thing happens. But fearful though you are, when the impulse to go outside comes upon you, you obey it. Once again the sky overhead is a sea of darkness. This time, however, something is different. This time you notice a single star, twinkling in the heights above. Though you are still afraid and shaken by the strangeness of the sky, the tiny star brings a measure of comfort, even joy. “Strange,” you say to yourself, “how such a small a thing can dominate such big a thing, and calm my fears in the process.” Fascinated, you stay outside for half an hour, gazing at that one little star.

In the weeks ahead, this scenario repeats itself, but with an important difference: Each time you go outside there are new stars. Eagerly you scan the heavens to find them. Appreciatively, you notice the slight variations in their size, shape, and color. Delightfully, you discover that with each new addition, constellations are taking shape before your eyes; that the various shapes in the heavens—objects, animals, men, women, events—seem to be speaking to one another, and to you as well; that they seem to be telling a great story, the gist of which is slowly—all too slowly—coming into focus in your mind.

And something else is happening. Each time you go outside, you realize the stars are now casting a heavenly light on earthly things; earthly things you thought you saw clearly beneath the light of the sun, but which now, beneath the light of the stars, are quietly, willingly, even joyfully disclosing to you new forms and features you had failed to see before. Indeed, it is now becoming a passion with you to see how the old world is touched and unveiled by this new light. Not that you no longer enjoy the daytime; to the contrary, now you look for it more expectantly than ever, eager to examine in the light of day what you previously beheld in the light of night. Nevertheless, something mysterious and something profoundly important is happening; for as much as you still love the day, it is the call of the night that has captured your imagination. Now your spirit hungers and thirsts to rise and go in search of new stars and new constellations, even as you pause over and again to see how the earth is reflecting and echoing the unfolding story of heaven.

Finally, it all becomes clear: There is a heavenly Someone, a divine Awakener whose loving purpose is to introduce you to a whole new world; indeed, his loving purpose is actually to change your very place of residence, spiritually speaking. Yes, day by day you still walk the earth beneath the light of the sun. But henceforth, because of the super-added light of the stars, you realize that from now on your true home is in the sky.

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Such, I think, is the message of Hebrews 11:1, a verse of Scripture that sets the stage for a roll call of the saints of old, men and women who obtained a glowing testimony from God because of their tenacious faith in unseen things that the invisible God was pleased to reveal to them. Indeed, whether we think of Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, David, Isaiah, John the Baptist, the Sons of Thunder, Peter, Paul, or any other saints of the times before our own, it is always the same story:

The Lord Himself came to them in the pitch darkness of their spiritual night. He placed a single star—a single truth, a single revelation, a single promise—in the sky of their mind. In so doing, He assured them of something devoutly to be hoped for; He convinced them of something altogether unseen by the eye of flesh, yet utterly real to the eye of faith. So day by day (and night by night) they steadily gazed, through the window of Scripture, upon that star. And as they did, more such stars began to appear, and constellations as well, until at last they found themselves dwelling beneath a mighty tapestry of divine revelation comprised of story, teaching, law, warning, promise, proverb, poetry, letter, faith, hope, and love; a vast tapestry of heavenly truth that overshadowed, bathed, and illuminated the things of earth, disclosing the ultimate meanings buried deep within them all. Finally, these saints realized that they were no longer at home in the earth, but at home in the sky; that from now on their pilgrim bodies were simply making their way to a world where their hearts and minds already lived; and that one day soon, the Lord himself, descending from above, would fully drape the great tapestry of heavenly light over a whole new earth, so that heaven, earth, sky, and light will all at last be one.

 

The Egyptian Shepherd

Published: 24 October 2016
Written by Dean Davis
1 Comment
Categories: Devotionals

So they said, “An Egyptian delivered us from the hand of the shepherds;

and what is more, he even drew the water for us and watered the flock!”

Exodus 1:19

 

If pressed, I might well identify John 5:39 as my life verse: “You search the (Old Testament) Scriptures, because in them you think you possess eternal life. But these very writings testify of Me!” No, I never tire of meandering through the OT, looking for, and finding, the Person and Work of Christ at every turn!

So it is with today’s text. Moses, recently escaped from Egypt, has made his way to the deserts of Midian, where he rescues the seven daughters of Reuel, the priest of Midian, from some decidedly unchivalrous shepherds who are trying to drive the girls and their flocks from the village well. The shepherds should have thought twice about that! More importantly, we ourselves should think twice about what happened, for here we learn some precious truths about Moses’ anti-type: the Lord Jesus Christ.

First, he is a strong deliverer. You don’t scatter a gang of rough shepherds unless you are built for it. In film versions of the Exodus, I have seen Moses portrayed both by Ben Kingsley and Charlton Heston. Today’s text tells me Charlton filled the role far better than Ben! Despite appearances to the contrary, the Lord Jesus Christ—through whom are all things, for whom are all things, and by whom all things are held together and make their way to the Consummation—is way strong! The seven daughters of Reuel need always to believe and take comfort in that fact; and fake shepherds everywhere would be wise to discover it before it’s too late.

Secondly, he delivers from false shepherds. Now I rejoice in the many good shepherds who serve under Christ around the world; indeed, I suspect that the vast majority of them are godly men, trying to do their best for the Lord and his flock. But I’ve also lived long enough to know there are plenty of fake shepherds out there, and that part of the long, winding course of our sanctification is that we should come upon them from time to time, and perhaps even be taken in and wounded by them. Nevertheless, sooner or later all of God’s daughters, and all of God’s flock, will come to their senses and will behold the falseness in the false shepherds. Moreover, when they do, they will be united as never before with the one Great Shepherd of the sheep. Henceforth, they will appreciate and submit to good under-shepherds whenever they find them; but they will adore and cling to only one. And in this, all true under-shepherds will rejoice.

Thirdly, he draws water for the flock. When you read this phrase, can you not hear the Lord saying, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked of him, and he would have given you living water”? Think of it: Christ himself, the very well of God, drawing from himself to give of himself (and the Father and the Holy Spirit) to us! Are we spending meaningful time every day beside this well, drinking in the truth, life, and love of Christ? I certainly hope so, for the deserts of Midian are terribly dry, and it is terribly easy to perish therein.

Finally, and most intriguingly of all, Christ is to his people, if only for a brief season, an Egyptian Shepherd. But how so? Well, it is certainly not because he really is an Egyptian—a mere man, a man of the flesh and a man of the world at heart. No, it is simply because we, like the seven daughters of Reuel, do not really know or recognize him. Yes, at our new birth we caught a glimpse of him as he truly is. But being Egyptians from our old birth, and dealing with Egyptians all day every day, we tend to see our Lord through Egyptian eyes. We do not readily see that he—like all Hebrews—is a shepherd at heart; that he is the Promised and Chosen Shepherd of the Israel of God, whose heart so burned with divine purpose and love that he was willing to enter the deserted hell-hole of this fallen world system in order to live for, die for, rise for, find, rescue, and eternally water his perfect, seven-fold Bride and her flock.

And this, beloveds, is why we must keep on reading the OT, and all of Scripture. We do so because we hope and trust that our gracious heavenly Father, by his Spirit and in his mercy, will be pleased to open our eyes more and more, to see more and more of his Christ; to see him, not as a mere Egyptian, but as the Hebrew of all Hebrews—as that strong, brave, loving, and divine Shepherd who infallibly rescues his Bride and her flock from every false shepherd, and grants that they should rest and drink with him at the eternal well of God.

Horatius Bonar on the Relationship Between Justification and the Assurance of Salvation

Published: 6 October 2016
Written by Dean Davis
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Categories: Quintessential Quotes

In opposition to (the Roman Catholic view), our forefathers not only maintained that a man is justified by faith, but that he ought to know that he is justified, and that such knowledge is the great root of a holy life. It started a man upon a happy life, because it relieved him from the burden of doubt and the gloom of uncertainty. It made his religion bright and tranquil, because it sprang so sweetly from the certainty of his reconciliation to God. It delivered him from the cruel suspense and undefined fears which the lack of assurance always carries with it.

Moreover, it rescued him from every temptation to pride, presumption, and self-righteousness, because it did not arise from any good thing in himself, but drew him away from himself to Christ–from what he was doing, to what Christ had done. Thus did it make Christ, not self, the basis and center of his new being. It made him more and more dissatisfied with self and all that self contained, but more and more satisfied with Jesus and his fullness. It taught him to rest his confidence toward God, not on his satisfaction with self, or on the development of his own holiness, or on the amount of his graces and prayers and doings, but simply on the completed work of Him with whom God is well pleased. – Horatius Bonar

Note: To read the article from which this excellent quote is taken, click here.

The Resting Place

Published: 21 September 2016
Written by Dean Davis
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Categories: Devotionals

“And he took one of the stones of the place and put it under his head, and lay down in that place. And he had a dream.”

Genesis 28:11-12

 

At this stage in his life, Jacob was not only a restless man, but a godless one. Though he valued spiritual things–the birthright of the family, and the blessing of his father–he used wicked means to attain a good end. He had not yet met his God, or received promises from him, or called upon his name. He had been a man run by lies and cunning; now he was a man on the run, pursued to the death by his murder-minded brother, Esau.

But here at Bethel–hungry, exhausted, and scared–Jacob lay his head down. The Hebrew says, “And he put a rock at his head place.” What a picture this is, and what a comfort, not only to Jacob, but to all his seed!

For the rock is Christ. And the great promise of our text is that for those who put him at their head place and rest their head upon him, they will dream. They will see God.

But how, exactly, does one rest his head upon Christ?

My answer is three-fold.

First, he rests completely upon the finished work of Christ–his righteous life and atoning death–for his justification and salvation, putting no trust whatsoever in his own works.

Secondly, he rests upon the Word of God, and especially the New Testament, saturating himself with its promises and commandments, so that he might every-increasingly live according to them.

Finally, he rests upon the Spirit of God, who brings the Word to life, enabling him not only to live by it, but even more importantly, to behold and delight in the One who is the great Ladder joining heaven and earth, the divine Head of all the angels, the very House of God, and the Gateway to our Father in heaven.

Yes, saints who know to rest their heads upon Christ will become what they so deeply desire to be, and what God created them to be: Dreamers, seers, and worshipers; men and women who know that, of a truth, God is in this place.