Psalm 23: “I Shall Not Want”

Today we arrive at one of the most well-known psalms in all the Bible, the 23rd psalm, and while the comfort of this psalm is undeniable, in order to give us comfort it actually has to attack our idea of our own self-sufficiency and power. In this psalm, although others were chanting praise songs about his might and power, King David depicts himself as small and weak and desperately in need of God for everything he enjoys, all the comfort he finds.

This psalm is extremely personal—it’s not us or we, but me and my—the Lord is my Shepherd. David rejoices in all he has in God : in six things in particular. So we’re going to talk about those six things one after another, and then there are a few questions we’ll need to answer. But let me say beforehand that since this psalm is so well known by most of us, it would be very easy to say, “Yeah, I know all this,” and listen passively. The problem is that even if we know that these things are true for us, functionally, we live as if we didn’t: we read this psalm and give it a hearty “Amen!”, all the while never experiencing the fullness of the blessings it describes. Brothers and sisters, it is not enough to know what the Bible says if we don’t live it. So my goal today is not to give you new information about this psalm, but to encourages all of us to live it; and I pray the Holy Spirit will help us.

1) Provision (v. 1)

1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. In verses 1 through 4, David compares his relationship with God to that of a sheep with a shepherd. This image of a shepherd caring for his sheep is an image that would have spoken immediately and clearly to the agrarian culture of Israel at the time of David. David himself was a shepherd, and so understood both the needs of sheep and the care of a shepherd. But now he’s king—he’s come to the highest point of power in the land, and he is a mighty warrior. And yet he says that the Lord is his shepherd, which of course implies that he is a sheep—not exactly a flattering image. But, says Derek Kidner, “In the word shepherd, David uses the most comprehensive and intimate metaphor yet encountered in the Psalms, preferring usually the more distant ‘king’ or ‘deliverer’, or the impersonal ‘rock’, ‘shield’, etc.; whereas the shepherd lives with his flock and is everything to it: guide, physician and protector.”

In our day and culture, it may be easier for us to grasp this idea if we use a different image. Think of a father or mother with their newborn baby. The care of which David speaks here is very similar to the care a parent will show to their own child. A newborn baby depends on his parents for everything; he is entirely helpless, dependent on someone else to keep him alive and well. And his parents provide for every need he has. They care for him. They watch over him. They give him everything he needs. If the Lord is our shepherd, we lack for nothing. We may not have everything we want, but we will have everything we need.

John Piper gives this illustration. Imagine you’re a parent, and your child asks you for a cookie. So you go to get your child a cookie, and find that the package was left open, and all the cookies are now stale and moldy. So you turn to your child and say, “I can’t give you a cookie; it’ll make you sick. Here’s an apple instead.” Now, the child will undoubtedly complain; he might even protest and say that you don’t love him. But your depriving him his cookie is actually the most loving thing you could do for him—you can’t give him what he wants, because what he wants isn’t good for him. Piper said it this way: “God always gives us what we ask him in prayer; or, he gives us something better.”

Whatever our situation, wherever we find ourselves, we can rest assured that we have absolutely everything we need—we want for nothing. Charles Spurgeon said, “Old age with its feebleness will not bring me any lack, and even death with its gloom will not find me destitute. I have all things and abound; not because I have a good store of money in the bank, not because I have skill and wit with which to win my bread, but because The Lord is my Shepherd.”

2) Peace (v. 2)

2 He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. The Lord, the shepherd, places his people in absolute and perfect peace. When Jack was a baby, we were nervous parents, mostly because we were sleep-deprived. We would do anything to create an environment of calm and tranquility: we made every effort to make Jack’s room as calm and peaceful as possible, and if he ever fell asleep we moved like those guys in wars they send in to diffuse bombs, making every effort not to move a single muscle, so as not to disturb his sleep.

God isn’t like that—he’s not a nervous God—but David is expressing this same kind of peace here. God gives us his Word, and the promises we find there; and when we lean on those promises and remember the things that God tells us about himself, we remember that we need worry about nothing. God is never disturbed, never worried, never flustered; and those who rest in him can rest in his own lack of fear. His Word assures us of our peace, and the knowledge of his presence refreshes us.

3) Restoration and Righteousness (v. 3)

3 He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. When he says “paths of righteousness,” he’s talking about what life looks like for the child of God. When we are made his, he doesn’t just save us, but he leads us, and leads us in a certain way: he restores our souls to be able to follow him, and he leads us in paths of righteousness. The longer the Shepherd leads us, the more we look like him. And remember the context: we look like Christ and learn to obey him in green pastures, beside still waters. These “paths of righteousness” are not a burden, they are not a chore—sanctification (the process of being made more like Christ) is one of the sweetest gifts of salvation.

How often do we look at what God calls us to do and think about how much we will lose if we become more like Christ? How seldom do we think about all we gain? Men, something strange happens when you become a father, particularly if you have a son. You start to look at yourself the way you imagine your son will look at you in ten or fifteen years. You want to be the kind of man your son can look up to and imitate. Our Father, our Shepherd, is the perfect Father, and he leads us to imitate his Son. He gives us his Spirit to restore us, that we can become more and more like him. It is a beautiful thing to resemble Christ; it is a wonderful thing to see our Father’s righteousness reflected in us.

But this reflection of God’s righteousness doesn’t happen so that we may draw attention to ourselves, that we may say to others, “Look how righteous I’ve become!” No—he leads us in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Our ways are his ways, not our own. The righteousness that we cultivate in ourselves, the salvation we work out with fear and trembling, is his righteousness: it is for the glory of his name that we imitate him. Whatever progress we make draws our eyes and others’ to his perfect righteousness. What God does in us, he does for his glory, and it is our delight and pleasure and peace to glorify God through our lives.

4) No fear (v. 4)

4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me… This verse is incredibly important. Up until now we could imagine that the Christian under the Shepherd’s care has absolute immunity from any danger or harm or worry—and this is exactly what a lot of preachers say today: anyone who has faith in Christ, if that faith is strong enough, will see their problems disappear. And this verse directly contradicts that: it does not say, “He leads in paths of righteousness, so I will not walk through the valley of the shadow of death.” It says, EVEN THOUGH I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. In other words, we will walk through this dark valley (“the valley of the shadow of death” can also be translated “the darkest valley”).

So what kind of protection is he talking about here? Clearly he’s not talking about protection from suffering or pain: David himself suffered great loss in his life, even when he was perfectly obedient to the Lord. And our experience tells us this is what life is like. When babies are teething, it’s hard to watch. They say that the pain babies go through while teething would be unbearable for an adult. And it’s difficult for a parent to watch their baby in that much pain for that long. But there’s not a parent on earth who would choose to take that process away from their children, because we want them to eat, and not spend the rest of their lives gumming their food to death. God does not protect us from all pain because he loves us. But even in the pain, he is still our Father; he is still our Shepherd. He is still protecting us. He is still with us—not just ahead of us, leading us, he is with us, next to us—as Kidner says, “escorting us.” We need not fear because we know that no matter how it seems, he won’t let anything come to us that is not for our greatest good and his greatest glory. We will walk through the dark valley, but we have no need to fear. He is with us.

We will be faced with shadows. But the confidence of the psalmist lies in this simple truth: shadows can’t do any ultimate, real damage to anyone. You can see shadows, they can surround you; but they can’t destroy you. God’s presence isn’t going to keep us from going through the valley; it will free us from the fear of the valley. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will FEAR no evil. As the psalmist said in Psalm 91.9-10, 9 Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place—the Most High, who is my refuge—10 no evil shall be allowed to befall you, no plague come near your tent. In the hands of the Good Shepherd, whatever occurs will not be evil against you, but good—perhaps incomprehensible good, but good nonetheless. And the basis of that confidence is given in the second half of verse 4.

…your rod and your staff, they comfort me. The rod was a cudgel worn at the belt, and the staff was a walking stick: the rod was used to defend the sheep from wild animals, and the staff was used for control, to round up the flock and guide them where they needed to go. Just this week I saw a news report of a family whose three-year-old boy was run over by a car driven by a friend from their church. Their grief is immense; the grief of that young driver is immense. So what do they know about God in that moment? They were able to look into the camera and say with complete confidence, “Our comfort is in knowing that God is a good God who ordained the number of days our son’s life. God has a plan, and we trust him, and we know we will see our son again.” They did not come out of this unscathed; they are hurting. But ultimately, they know are in the shepherd’s care. If you trust that what David says here is true, you know that God is standing next to you, fending off anything that can do you any ultimate harm, and guiding you where you need to go. Even death is not an ultimately fearful thing for the person who knows they belong to God, because that person knows that even in death, God is still with him, God still sets his affections on him, and God will not let him go. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

Now, as Derek Kidner says, “It is one thing to survive a threat, as in verse 4; quite another to turn it into a triumph.” This is exactly what happens in verse 5. David turns from the image of a shepherd with his sheep to that of a host setting a luxurious table for his guests.

5) Abundance (v. 5)

5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Now, this is an image of a feast, we understand a little better. But we can see that in this case, God goes much further than a mere feast. At the time of David, inviting someone to eat at one’s home was an extremely intimate act. Eating and drinking in someone’s home established a bond between the two people, a bond of loyalty which usually ended with a covenant between them. Do you remember the Last Supper that Jesus had with his disciples, when he said, This cup is the new covenant in my blood (1 Corinthians 11.25)? That’s the image he’s presenting. Being invited to God’s table is an incredibly intimate exchange in which he serves us, and in which we are bound to him by the love he shows us: he covers us with his precious grace and gives us not only what we need, but much more: our cup overflows. There are no half-measures with God. What he gives us, he gives us abundantly.

6) Security (v. 6)

And with that, the psalmist concludes, 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Verse 6 is a summary of everything that’s come before. Our salvation is so assured that we don’t need to pursue God’s goodness and mercy; they follow us. We have the promise that no matter what happens, no matter how frequently or deeply we live in the valley, every minute of our lives is goodness and mercy, and that will continue forever. We are secure in God’s goodness toward us, forever: he is our gracious host who will never stop pouring grace after grace on his children. We are secure in God’s mercy toward us, forever: no matter how undeserving we are of God’s grace, no matter how many times we need to run to his throne to receive forgiveness for sins, we’ll find that his mercy has actually preceded us there. We are secure in God’s adoption of us, forever: we will live in his house forever, not as guests in a hotel or even guests invited by a host, but as the dearly loved children of a good Father.

And we are secure in all of these things because of the gracious life, death and resurrection of the Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ. The provision he offers in v. 1 destroys our worry; the peace he gives in v. 2 kills our restlessness; the strength and righteousness he proposes in v. 3 fight our weakness and sin; the courage he gives us in v. 4 abolishes our fear; and the abundance of his grace in v. 5-6 puts our lukewarmness to death. In him we truly and eternally have all we will ever need.

7) Questions and Answers

As I was preparing this message and thinking about the monumental impact of this psalm on not only our own lives, but on the tone and perspective of the whole Bible, there are two questions that occurred to me—two questions that some of us may be asking. Because as we look at this psalm, it may strike us as a little too good…almost too good to be true. It seems that way, firstly, because the world around us doesn’t seem good enough to accommodate this kind of language; and secondly because even as Christians, we haven’t always had this kind of experience. So here are two questions some of us may be asking.

Firstly, what comfort can we take in the assurances that God is this good to us, while there is still suffering in so much of the world? It’s easy to talk about God’s perfect goodness and mercy and security when we’re living in Paris, which (recent events notwithstanding) is still relatively safe and definitely comfortable. How can we, in good conscience, rest in the comfort of this psalm when we see so much suffering and tragedy all around the world? Now this compassion and discomfort we feel when we think about the suffering in the world is a good thing. We don’t want to swing to the extreme of pretending those things aren’t happening. But we need to be careful not to swing to the other extreme. Were we not to take this comfort, there would be no comfort: the world would either be the depraved stage of a masochistic deity’s cruel pleasures, or nothing but chaos in which no hope for comfort is possible. Our God is a loving and gracious God who, for reasons only his perfect wisdom can understand, sees fit to let sin continue its course in the world, at least in a limited way. But the Bible also tells us that the suffering that grieves us grieves him as well—that his ultimate desire, his main goal which he will accomplish, is indeed to bring humanity to a place where there is no more suffering. And he proved that compassion by sending Jesus to live, die and rise again to save us. So the compassion inherent in this question is true and right, but we shouldn’t let it make us bitter, but rather bold: the comfort we take in God’s care for us should fuel us to share the gospel with those who don’t know him, should drive us to the mission field, should provoke us to plant churches, should fill us with the urgency of love—an urgency which, despite what we may feel, God shares, and proves, in that he sent his Son at the right time to make atonement for his people. Deciding not to take comfort in this psalm because not everyone can, would be counterproductive, for if we don’t rejoice in this comfort, we would have no comfort to offer others.

That being said, we can arrive at our second question: What is the biggest obstacle to enjoying the comfort that this psalm provides? For most of us, our biggest obstacle is our burning desire to be self-sufficient. We want to see ourselves as strong and capable and equipped, and lacking nothing. (And if you want proof, ask yourself if you get irritated or angry when you feel like someone is treating you in a condescending way. Are you quick to say, “Please—do you really think I’m that stupid?” when someone tries to explain something to you or give you advice?) We have it when people are condescending to us, because we want to see ourselves (and for others to see us) as capable, strong, self-sufficient people. But the fact is that all of us are lacking without God, because for all of our seeming brilliance, none of us is able to escape death, and none of us on our own is secure in what is beyond death.

We’ve all heard stories of rebellious teenagers who run away from home and who suddenly are thrust into adulthood before they’re ready, who are forced to shoulder burdens that don’t belong to them and that they cannot bear. This is essentially what we have done: we have taken burdens on ourselves that don’t belong to us, and that we can’t possibly bear. We were never meant to be self-sufficient and all-powerful—the only one who can fit that bill is God himself. And when we nurture this desire for self-sufficiency, we force ourselves to shoulder burdens we can’t possibly carry. If we want to truly lack nothing, we only have one hope: that in Christ we find everything we need. If we are to accept what the psalmist tells us, we must accept that we are not self-sufficient. We come to God empty-handed, offering nothing, simply asking him to provide what we cannot provide for ourselves. And if we do this, we find that the rest the psalmist proposes here, the comfort he offers in the truth that the Lord is our shepherd, is ultimate rest, ultimate comfort: it is only in recognizing that we are not self-sufficient that we find in God alone that which we were lacking. It is only in recognizing our own lack that we may really and truly lack nothing.

Conclusion

So as we close, I’d like to appeal to us all (myself included) to pray. If you’re tired, there is rest. If you’re afraid, there is comfort. And if you’re not tired or afraid, rest assured: you will be. So let us pray that God would allow us to see our own lack, our own powerlessness, our own weakness, so that we might not imagine ourselves too strong to need a shepherd. Let us pray that he would bring us low, in order that he might raise us up. Let us pray that we may submit to his Son as the Good Shepherd, who laid down his life for his sheep. And let us pray that we might rest in the glorious promise that if we belong to him, we truly lack nothing; that if we belong to him, goodness and mercy will follow us all the days of our lives, and we will dwell in his house forever.

Psalm 4 – In All Circumstances, God Alone Remains Trustworthy

Introduction

World War II is often considered the darkest period of our era, where our humanity showed what could be worst within it, with a multitude of horrors one could never have imagined. Yet, several documented testimonies have marked people's minds by the striking contrast between the violence of the circumstances and the unusual peace of certain individuals.

Among them is that of Betsie ten Boom, a Dutch Christian whose story is told in the book "The Hiding Place" ("La Cachette" in French). The city where she lived was regularly bombed by the German army, and it was during one of those nights of terror that her sister, waking up in a panic, took refuge in the kitchen and found her drinking herbal tea and reading her Bible.

Several similar stories were gathered with the London Blitz (heavy bombings of London by the German Luftwaffe in 1940-41), where newspapers of the time documented several cases of citizens who kept an inexplicable peace in the middle of the bombings; one of the best-known anecdotes is that of an elderly lady, a Christian, who had joined the underground shelter where everyone had taken refuge, bringing her pillow to try to sleep, even though she obviously had to sleep poorly (noise, uncomfortable), people were surprised at her unusual peace.

These people were human beings like everyone else, who suffered the same terrible circumstances as others, the same suffering, the same pain. But their faith in God influenced their attitude in a way that greatly surprised others.

How can one know such peace when everything seems to collapse around us? More precisely, what can we lean on when all human and earthly foundations are shaken?

This is the question that Psalm 4 raises.

In all circumstances, God alone remains trustworthy. That is today's message.

Context

Today we begin our summer series in the Psalms. Psalm 4 seems to form a pair with Psalm 3, they are quite similar and seem to tell of the same events, and they complement each other: Psalm 3 seemed to be a morning prayer for the Israelites (3:6), and Psalm 4 an evening prayer with verse 9.

There are good reasons to think, even if it remains a supposition, that this psalm refers to the same circumstances in David's life as those seen in Psalm 3: the one where his son Absalom attempted a coup d'état to seize power in his father's place, and where part of the people and the army betrayed David to rally to Absalom in Jerusalem, and where David had to flee with his men, reduced to having to sleep in a tent from place to place, uncertain of his future. You will find this story in 2 Samuel 15-18.

Whether proved true or not, difficult trials made up an integral part of David’s life, and we see in the Psalms how his faith in God comes to influence him in this kind of situation.

I. By Nature, Man Seeks Happiness in the Wrong Place

The tone is set right from verse 2: "Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness! You have given me relief when I was in distress. Be gracious to me and hear my prayer!"

David is in distress and calls upon God for justice. The French translation loses the meaning of certain subtleties in the original Hebrew, because the Hebrew text says "when I was in narrowness (to refer to distress) you enlarged me," and a priori this would not be in the sense of "you removed my distress to rescue me," but rather to be understood in the sense of "within my very distress, during my distress, you helped me and you comforted me." And that rather makes sense with the rest of the psalm.

The problem is posed right from verse 3.

"O men, how long shall my honor be turned into shame? How long will you love vain words and seek after lies?"

The term "glory" [translated "honor" here] can also designate honor, dignity, the status occupied by someone. Since David indicates in verse 4 that God has established him, David is not speaking from an ego-whim, but reproaches them for despising what God has honored.

In other words, the problem is not only that David is rejected, but that these men reject what God has established.

And David adds:

"You love what is worthless and you seek after lies."

They pursue empty realities, cling to illusions, they run after something that cannot satisfy.

They are vulgarly opportunistic. Traitors. They seek their security elsewhere than in God, and if we make the link with verse 8, they seek it in material comfort, in favorable living conditions, economic prosperity. These things are good in themselves, but what is condemned here is the fact of having despised God, of having immediately pushed Him to the periphery of one's life as soon as, humanly, we have all that we need.

But David continues in verse 4:

"Know that the Lord has set apart the godly for himself; the Lord hears when I call to him."

Grand contrast.

Men love emptiness, pursue lies.

David leans on a solid reality, on the living God.

And above all, the emphasis is entirely placed on the action of God.

David does not say: "Look at how exceptional I am."

He says: "Look at what God has done."

It is God who sets apart, who chooses, who listens, who acts. David's security does not rest on his personal value, but on the faithfulness of God and on His action.

Then come verses 5 and 6: "Be angry, and do not sin; ponder in your own hearts on your beds, and be silent. Offer right sacrifices, and put your trust in the Lord."

David does not call down judgment on his adversaries, but calls them to repentance.

The heart, in Hebraic thought, is not only the seat of emotions, but the center of the entire person, of reflection and decisions.

David says "if you are angry, if you are agitated, do not let all your impulses of sin explode, but examine yourselves, examine your life, consider honestly the things you are pursuing...". Note that the apostle Paul quotes this verse in Ephesians 4:26, always in a context of repentance and change of attitude. And "be silent" is not to be understood in the sense of "suck it up, internalize your pain, do not externalize it," on the contrary, and David speaks about this just after.

Then David adds: "Offer right sacrifices and trust in the Lord."

The fundamental problem of these men is not limited to their poor political choice (of having rejected David for Absalom), to their being materialistic and their needing to be a bit more outward-looking.

Their problem is spiritual. They seek happiness without God. They want good without the One who is the source of good.

And this appears clearly in verse 7:

"Many are saying, 'Who will show us some good?'" The great question of the psalm.

In Hebrew, the text literally speaks of "good": "Who will make us see the GOOD?".

It is the same word that is used in the creation story when God declares His creation "good," before the entry of sin into the world.

These men are in desperate search of lost paradise, of happiness.

But they seek it in the wrong place, by seeking "their own truth," what the psalm simply calls "lies."

"Many say: Who will show us happiness?". David's response is unequivocal: "Lift up the light of your face upon us, O Lord!" It is the presence of God. Not that God is the means by which we can attain happiness, but happiness is indeed GOD HIMSELF.

II. The Rest of the One Who Trusts in God Alone

Men ask: "Who will show us happiness?"

David answers: "Lift up the light of your face upon us, O Lord!" This is a current expression in the Old Testament, it signifies that the person benefits from the favor of God, His presence, His benevolent attention.

David does not say "happiness will come when I recover Jerusalem, or when my problem is solved," he does not look first for a solution, but he seeks God. He does not seek the gifts or blessings of God, but God Himself as the supreme Good.

Which does not stop him from having explicitly requested God's help in his situation, we saw it in verse 2, but David's cry is not limited to asking for the solution to the problem, but to being with God, in His presence.

David understood that when God is present, he already possesses the greatest Good.

Then comes this extraordinary verse: "You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound."

David does not say:

"I am adopting a positive attitude; I try to look on the bright side of things; I try to remember the good memories I have" - in all these expressions I listed I used "I." But in this verse, there is no "I," it is God who gives joy. God who acts, who gives, who transforms.

Because once again, the word "heart" does not simply designate emotions, but all the inner being (thought, will, desires, intelligence). God renews David from the inside, for a result and a rendering much better than that of his men who enjoy material comfort. These men possess all that many consider necessary for happiness.

And yet David affirms:

"The joy that God puts in my heart is superior to all that."

What a paradox!

If the context of Absalom is indeed that of the psalm, or if it is another unknown episode of David's life, we can still imagine the scene.

On one side these men, who have all that is necessary humanly speaking, with provisions and reserves for many months, with the high walls of Jerusalem for support, with flourishing businesses, but finally all these things turn out just to be camouflage of what they really are: empty creatures, unhappy, deprived of ultimate Good, wandering. And when they find themselves in the evening, on their king size mattress, alone with their conscience, it is only void, agitation, lies and illusion.

On the other side David, rejected, in flight, with his men in tents, wandering from place to place, in uncertainty about his future, but who knows however more and more that his life is in the hands of God, that it is in Him that he has all that he needs, that he belongs to Him, and that God hears him when he cries to Him.

On the earthly and human level, which of the two seem outwardly the happiest? On the level of eternity, which one really is?

The happiest man of this psalm is not the one everyone envies, the one whose lifestyle makes the front page of social media and Instagram, or even more modestly the man who is the embodiment of the model of stable and serene success of the middle class. No, the happiest man is the man who knows God, and whom God knows.

Then the psalm reaches its summit in verse 9: "In peace I will both lie down and sleep."

Let us dig a little, David does not simply say: "I feel a little better."

The Hebrew text literally says:

"In shalom I will lie down."

Biblical "shalom" is much more than the absence of conflict. It is wholeness. Integrity. Harmony. Deep peace that flows from being in the hands of God.

David looks at his situation. And humanly, he has many reasons to be worried.

But he knows a reality greater than his circumstances. He knows that God reigns, He has not lost control, He is faithful, and that is why he can sleep.

Then he concludes:

"For you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety."

David is not really speaking of a house here (a priori he sleeps in a tent), but the original meaning seems to be "you make me dwell in a state of security, of peace."

Conclusion and Application

Like David we can call on God when we face, whether individually or collectively, terrible injustices that we may suffer in this world, I think of all those cases we hear of harassment at school or at work, of physical or sexual assault, those people who undergo scams (in real estate, or cars, or other) and who lose their savings yet hard-earned, think of the persecuted church and of our brothers and sisters in the world who are imprisoned or killed for their faith. Faced with this evil, these dramas and injustices that we may experience and that poison our lives, that sometimes seem to destroy us little by little, we have human resources we can use and thank the Lord for that (to be able to ask for help, refer to authorities, file a complaint, launch a judicial procedure) but what to do when these initiatives (which are necessary and useful, which we must use and do all that is in our power humanly to fix these situations), but that despite all the human energy we have deployed to act, these initiatives reveal themselves despite all insufficient and disappointing in providing us the peace, security and comfort of which we have so much need in these situations of distress?

Let us be encouraged to cry out to our God, the "God of my righteousness." And let us be all the more encouraged to do it because our God understands our distress, God will not answer us coldly like an administrative email "I take note of your distress, I will answer you soon," but God understands our distress simply because He Himself directly lived it. God became man in Jesus Christ, He is the faithful man par excellence of whom verse 4 speaks, and despite His innocence He was betrayed by those close to Him and nailed on a cross. These men of verse 3, it is us, all of us, who are sinners by nature and who have this natural tendency by nature to reject God and despise Him, or else to follow Him in appearance as long as He seems to give us what we want to have, but to reject Him out of opportunism immediately. For us who were lost and without hope, He died, carrying on Himself the punishment that we deserved. But henceforth risen from the dead, we know that it is in Him, by faith in Him, that we are forgiven of our faults and reconciled with God.

I read Romans 5:1-5: "Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us."

Faith in Christ is not just an administrative formality that allows us to be saved, to have a "visa for heaven," but it is the lifebuoy that we cling to daily, which renders us capable of finding peace and comfort in God in the middle of all daily trials.

The Cost of Ambition (PHILIPPIANS 2.12-30)

For the past four Sundays, we have been reflecting on ambition as God sees it.

God is not against ambition. Quite the opposite. He wants to replace our small ambitions with His own: to fill the world with people who know Him and glorify Him.

Last Sunday, we saw that God is in charge of this plan. He opens and closes doors. He arranges encounters. He opens hearts. So we are not wasting our time in pursuing this ambition.

***

But… any serious ambition requires hard work. That’s what we’re going to look at this morning.

Not all ambitions are serious. I know someone who recently went to see Bruno Mars in concert. On her way home, she asked ChatGPT to come up with a plan for her to marry Bruno Mars!

As far as I know, she won’t be following through on it!

Real ambitions require hard work.

If Les Bleus want to lift the World Cup, they’ll have to put up with training sessions, injuries, sacrifices and the pressure.

Ambition according to God is no exception.

If we want to grow with God, see people come to know Jesus and see new churches spring up, it’s going to take work.

That’s where we are at Connexion.

In a year’s time, after more than ten years with us, the Procopio family will be leaving to plant a new church in eastern Paris. We are praying that some of you here will join them.

This ambition is deeply Christian. We have been praying for a long time for new churches to be planted in the Paris region.

This ambition will come at a cost.

Friends will leave. Routines will change. We will need to take on new responsibilities, lead services and step up to the plate.

It would be easy to experience this transition with a sense of loss rather than with joy.

This morning’s passage calls us to set to work.

Our situation resembles that of the church in Philippi in the Bible.

Last week, we witnessed its birth. God opened a door for the Gospel in that city. Lydia came to faith. A church was born.

Ten years later, Paul, who had planted it, is in prison. He faces execution. The Philippians love him deeply, but they must learn to move forward without him.

The context is difficult. From the very beginning, this church has faced opposition. Paul had been imprisoned there. Ten years later, he still speaks of adversaries and suffering.

He passes the torch to them at a time when the future seems most uncertain.

The beginning of our passage:

‘So then, my beloved… not only whilst I was present, but even more so now that I am absent… work out your salvation…’

In other words: it’s up to you to take over. The situation is tough, but God will help you.

All things considered — Jason is neither an apostle nor in prison — there is a parallel with Connexion.

How do we carry on the work that God has begun? How do we continue to bear fruit when the founder is no longer here?

Part of the answer, as we saw last Sunday, is that God is sovereign. We can undertake great things for him, because he is in control.

The other part is today’s passage: the work

This text tells us to set to work for Christ, because God works in us through this so that we may become like Christ.

1. Get to work …

2. … with the Master’s mindset as our model

1. Get to work

So perhaps we ask ourselves: what if I don’t feel like it?

What if I feel neither motivated nor capable of serving Jesus?

There are certainly times when I prefer my own comfort to serving Jesus!

In verses 12 to 18, Paul encourages us.

If we want to become what God wants us to become, and if we want to experience true joy… let’s set to work for Jesus.

He says first of all that we are…

• Trained through work (12–13)

Philippians 2:12 again

So then, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed – not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence – work out your salvation with fear and trembling. For it is God who works in you both to will and to act according to his good purpose.

I imagine many of us have already asked ourselves this question: what is God’s will for my life?

In verse 13, we find the answer.

“God works in you both to will and to act in accordance with … his good purpose.”

What is this plan?

It is to “work out your salvation with fear and trembling”.

We have salvation; it is a gift.

But we must open this gift and make the most of it. Let God transform us into the people he saved us to be.

What he wants us to be might … surprise us!

Let’s go back a few verses.

Philippians 1:27

Only let your conduct be worthy of the Gospel of Christ. So that, whether I come to see you or am absent, I may hear that you are standing firm … in one spirit … striving together with one heart for the faith of the Gospel, and not being intimidated in any way by your opponents.

The city of Philippi was populated by veterans of the Roman army. They knew all about fighting and adversaries!

What God wants to train us for is to serve in his own army!

Not a literal army! A group that gives of itself so that the good news may spread and so that we may all stand firm in the faith.

‘That’s scary,’ some might say.

‘Fighting isn’t my thing!’

I see those who are incredibly zealous to serve, but I don’t have that zeal!

You know what? Neither do I!

But that’s exactly the point.

God isn’t looking for people who already think that way.

No, he says: I have already chosen you, but I won’t leave you to fend for yourself. I will train you to think more and more like Jesus.

That is the whole promise of verse 13: He produces in us ‘the will’ – the desire to serve.

When we discover Jesus and his love, when we seek to obey him, God gradually transforms our desires. His ambitions become our own.

And he also produces ‘the ability to do it’

He enables us to act in accordance with the new desires that Jesus gives us.

I meet Jesus. He is so wonderful that I want to serve him.

God says: go for it. I’ll train you as you go along so you can do it better and better.

Let’s not sit idly by waiting for the desire to serve him to come to us. When we set to work… God works within us to make us the people he wants us to be.

We are trained by working to…

• To shine whilst we work! (14–16)

Verse 14

“Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may be blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation.”

In our professional lives, not all of us will shine.

I was a very mediocre journalist. The only people who remember my work are my mother and my wife; probably because my tie was askew in front of the camera.

The Christian’s calling, for which God trains us, is to shine by serving as Jesus did on the path leading to our heavenly homeland—the new creation that God has in store for his people.

To illustrate this, Paul draws a contrast between us and the Israelites in the Old Testament.

When Paul says, ‘Do everything without grumbling or arguing’, he is not simply saying: never complain.

It echoes the attitude of the Israelites when they came out of Egypt.

God had great plans for them too.

He had rescued them from Egypt to lead them to the Promised Land. But the desert they had to cross seemed too difficult for them.

They became grumblers: ‘We miss Egypt… its cucumbers, its melons, its leeks; everything was better when we were… slaves.’

pause

It’s not hard to see how one might think like them.

“Serving Jesus is too much of a sacrifice.”

“God doesn’t look after me properly.”

“Another life would be more pleasant.”

I’ll let you in on a secret. Sometimes I find myself wondering whether I really want to be a pastor. And on some days, whether I still want to be a Christian.

As if God hadn’t already shown me His goodness, and as if He weren’t going to keep doing so! It’s pathetic, but like the Israelites, I’m quick to forget.

When planting a new church, we may be tempted by such thoughts.

It’s not like it used to be.

My friends aren’t here anymore.

It’s on a smaller scale.

There’s more work.

We have to give more money.

Paul says: do not be like the Israelites.

In his great love, God has saved you and begun a work in you, so that, verse 15, ‘you may be blameless and pure, children of God without fault in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation. You shine among them like beacons in the world as you hold fast to the word of life.’

We too are on our way to our promised land – the new creation.

We too are called to do everything we can to ensure that everyone makes the journey, crosses the desert and reaches their destination safely.

Unlike the Israelites, our task is also to call others to join the procession through the desert.

Paul says that “you shine among them like beacons in the world, bearing the word of life.”

What a magnificent image!

We know the way that leads to life. Our calling is to light up that path so that others may join us!

It is to do this that God has placed you in your workplace, or at the school gates, in your group of friends or sports club.

To shine for Jesus and light the way to life!

But if we ever find ourselves thinking: ‘Yes, but I’m not up to it; my witness at work hasn’t been great; I find it hard to share my faith with others…’ God is already at work within us to that end!

We work because God is at work within us! When we set to work for him, he continues his work within us!

We are shaped through our work… to shine whilst we work… and to be…

• Joyful whilst working (17–18)

Verse 17:

“And even if my blood is to be poured out as a sacrifice and service for your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all. You too, be glad and rejoice with me.”

Paul is in prison for preaching the gospel. He faces the death penalty.

But he is joyful.

Our translation is a little more morbid than the original text.

Literally, verse 17 says: even if I am poured out as a libation, upon the sacrifice and service of your faith

In the Old Testament, a libation was an offering of wine that accompanied a sacrifice.

When an animal was sacrificed, it was sometimes accompanied by a cup of wine that was poured over it.

Paul presents the Philippians’ faith as a sacrifice offered to God. Their faith, their progress, their service – it is an offering that pleases the Lord.

And Paul rejoices at the thought of being poured out himself, even to the point of death, simply to accompany this offering and make it even more pleasing to God.

How is it possible to think like that?

If you’re like me, we don’t like making sacrifices, and if we have to make them, we at least want to be noticed!

Not Paul! He is delighted to give his all simply to support the spiritual growth of the Philippians.

How is it possible to take joy in sacrificing oneself for others?

***

The joy in Philippians comes from knowing Jesus.

(slowly)

In particular, joy comes … from welcoming Jesus … and his sacrificial death … as the supreme revelation … of who God truly is … x 2

Let’s go back a few verses.

Philippians 2:5

Let your attitude be the same as that of Jesus Christ:

who, though he was in the form of God,

did not regard his equality with God

as something to be grasped at,

but he emptied himself

by taking the form of a servant,

and becoming like human beings.

Found in human form,

he humbled himself

by showing obedience even unto death,

even death on the cross.

The one who poured himself out for others was, first and foremost, Christ.

Equal with God from all eternity, he humbled himself to serve and sacrifice himself.

Verse 9

That is also why God exalted him to the highest place

and given him the name

that is above every name

so that at the name of Jesus

every knee should bow

in heaven, on earth and under the earth

and every tongue may confess

that Jesus Christ is Lord,

to the glory of God the Father.

Jesus was equal with the Father from all eternity …

but the moment that demonstrated most supremely that he truly deserved the name of Lord, the name of God …

… was the moment when he poured himself out for us.

Who is truly our God?

Look at Jesus emptying himself right up to the cross. That is our God. A God who gives himself. A God who serves. A God who loves to the very end.

Take Lionel Messi – and please bear with me if you’re not a football fan.

Many have been saying for a long time: “He’s the best player of all time.”

What will prove this beyond doubt?

If he scores goals and leads his team to the World Cup title.

Then people will say: “Now we can really see who the greatest is.”

(I know nobody here wants him to win!)

Jesus has always been God, but what demonstrated this most supremely was not a display of power.

It was when he gave himself up for us, because what brings our God the greatest glory is his love! His compassion!

Paul sees this and says: Jesus is my hero!

My God became a servant for my sake!

What other God would do that?

What other king would become a servant?

What other master would die for his enemies?

He’s my hero!

My joy is in knowing him, admiring him and following his example!

I want to be with him. And I want to be like him!

Our society tells us that happiness is achieved by clinging to our lives and living for ourselves.

Nothing could be further from the truth!

True joy comes from giving ourselves entirely because we know Jesus and we know that he gave himself for us!

A friend recently told me that the moments when he has felt happiest in recent years have been those when he has been most generous with the gifts God has given him.

Some of you will be serving at Christian camps this summer.

My experience of camps: stress, discomfort, fitful nights… and the deep joy of giving oneself in the service of Jesus!

To those of you who have set off on mission trips: frustration, tiredness, vulnerability… and I imagine moments of deep joy too!

Why? Because by serving Jesus, we come to appreciate more fully the service Jesus has shown us!

We savour the greatness of our hero!

A question to ask if we’re lacking joy: am I giving of myself because I’m in awe of Jesus?

Perhaps the answer is no – I don’t feel in awe of Jesus.

If that’s the case – we sometimes go through dry spells – let’s stand before the cross and implore God’s help.

It is He who gives us both the will and the ability… He delights in bringing us joy by showing us the greatness of His Son!

***

We are shaped through our work

To shine whilst we work

And to find joy in our work

Let’s get to work!

***

So what does that mean in everyday life?

Should we give up our jobs and become missionaries?

Perhaps you have the gifts and character that mean, yes, that would be the best thing for you.

Probably not for most of us, though.

What does it look like in everyday life to set to work for Jesus?

Pause
Second point before we finish

At work …

2. … with the Master’s mindset as our model

Paul introduces us to two men who are just like us and who have set to work for the gospel.

Their backgrounds are very different. What they have in common is their mindset. Their attitude.

Paul wants to show us that, since we are all different, there is no single way to work for the cause of the Gospel.

What really matters is adopting this mindset.

It is characterised by three things

A desire to serve God’s people.

A willingness to work hard.

And acceptance of the cost that this entails.

First, we have Timothy.

Verse 19

“I hope in the Lord Jesus to send Timothy to you soon, so that I myself may be encouraged by the news I receive from you, for I have no one else who shares my concern and truly takes your situation to heart.”

Timothy is Paul’s closest and most brilliant colleague

Paul says he has no one like him.

What sets him apart, first and foremost, is his concern for the faith of other Christians.

In verse 21, Paul makes it clear that caring for the interests of other Christians is the same as caring for the interests of Jesus himself.

One cannot serve Jesus without serving his people.

We may enjoy studying theology and listening to sermons – that is excellent. But if, little by little, we withdraw from church life because we prefer to learn on our own rather than bear the burdens of our brothers and sisters, we are missing the point of Jesus’ mindset. Christian maturity is measured not only by what I know, but also by the place others occupy in my heart.

Timothy is prepared to set aside his own interests for this very reason.

He is going to leave Rome, where he is with Paul, to go to Philippi and put his considerable gifts at the service of persecuted Christians.

He is selfless.

He is also diligent.

Verse 22.

“You know that Timothy has proved himself by devoting himself to the service of the Gospel with me, just as a son serves his father”

Timothy has seen Paul labouring for the Gospel … and he has followed his example.

Then there is Epaphroditus.

• Epaphroditus

Whilst Timothy is someone exceptional, Epaphroditus is just an ordinary bloke!

Not someone remarkable. Just someone with strong convictions.

When you think of Epaphroditus, think of a parcel delivery man. He crossed the Mediterranean to bring the Philippians’ support to Paul in his time of need. Nothing spectacular, but an indispensable service.

Timothy had preached to crowds. Epaphroditus undertook a long, uncomfortable and dangerous journey to serve a brother in need.

But… it’s just as valuable for the gospel!

Epaphroditus takes his concern for Jesus’ people to the point of absurdity.

Verse 27

During the journey he fell ill and came close to death, yet Epaphroditus “longed to see you all again and was distressed because you had heard of his illness.”

He does not feel sorry for himself. He thinks of his brothers and sisters first!

Two examples. Two different characters. The same mindset!

This shows that we can all set to work for Jesus!

We’re all different.

We have different personalities. Different gifts. Different backgrounds. We’re at different stages in life.

We can all adopt this mindset.

Serving God’s people.

Working hard.

Accepting the cost

That is the mindset of Jesus… our great hero!

***

If we have this mindset… all we need on top of that is a little imagination.

Working for the cause of the Gospel is the work of an entrepreneur.

If we’re clear about what really matters, and if we’re prepared to give of ourselves, we’ll find opportunities to serve everywhere.

At work. With our friends. At church.

All you need to do is adopt this mindset and then dream!

Don’t swallow the lie that says the only goal worth working towards is getting the best education, landing the best job, earning the best salary, buying the most beautiful house, having the best pension, dying in the best hospital, being buried in the most beautiful cemetery, with the most beautiful grave, and the loveliest daisies growing beside it.

We can work towards something far more glorious!

Let’s dream together for a moment.

We all have gifts, resources and opportunities.

Imagine all that we could achieve by putting them to use for the gospel!

It starts with simple things.

Having a coffee with a sister who’s feeling discouraged, or phoning a brother we haven’t seen for a month.

Inviting a colleague to our community group.

The holidays are coming up. Why not take this opportunity to ask yourself: what could I do for the gospel?

Why not grab a notebook and make a list: if I adopted this mindset, I could…

And then pray about these things.

But let’s not forget that it’s not just about me and my personal plans.

God is not just preparing servants. He is preparing a people of servants. An army!

So the question is not just ‘what could I do?’ but ‘what could we do?’

This mindset is the key to the future of our church – or should I say, our churches.

It is striking that when Paul wanted to prepare the Philippians for a future without him, he did not say: ‘Appoint a new pastor.’

He says: ‘Let each of you adopt the mindset of the Master.

Let us all imitate Jesus!

Connexion, Oberkampf, East Paris – the pastor is important. But he is secondary!

What matters most is the mindset we all share.

Serve joyfully.

Work hard.

Accept the cost.

This is what God is already bringing about in us!

This mindset will be the deciding factor in choosing where we commit ourselves.

Not: where will I be most comfortable, or where will my friends be going?

But: where can I best serve God’s people, by working hard and accepting the cost?

We can all make the most of this transition to let God teach us to think like Jesus, in his service, his self-sacrifice and his love.

***

I know that some of you feel discouraged because you have served so much this year with seemingly little to show for it. Your small group has shrunk in size. You have shared the gospel but seen no fruit.

It’s frustrating.

Perhaps God wants to shift your joy … from results to Jesus himself.

Christian joy does not come from ministry that succeeds, but from ministry that makes us more like Jesus!

Jesus persevered when nobody wanted him; he was rejected. And in seeing that perseverance, we see God’s character, and we can rejoice that he is making us more like him.

A word also for those who think life is too difficult right now to serve Jesus.

Firstly, living out our salvation involves applying the Gospel to our trials.

To come before the great Servant so that he may serve us.

But if Paul is right and joy comes from taking our focus off ourselves, as Jesus did, perhaps setting to work for him is precisely the remedy we need.

The broken-hearted who allow Christ to heal their wounds are the ones who accomplish the most for him.

A final word for those who say to themselves: ‘I didn’t set out to serve; I lived for myself.’

Jesus became the servant of people who lived for themselves …

He did not come for people who were already servants of God. He came first to serve us, so that we might be transformed into servants filled with joy.

God is at work within us. Let us set to work for him.

It’s summer. I imagine many of you need a holiday.

And then… back to work!

Open Eyes for Open Doors (Acts 16.1-15)

I know that last week’s announcement that in 2027 my family and I will be leaving; I will be transitioning out of my role of lead pastor of Connexion, and we will begin the process of planting a church in the east of the Paris suburbs. I know that this news came as a bit of a shock for a lot of you. 

But maybe it also made a couple of things a bit clearer—like, for example, why we wanted to do a series entitled “Ambitious.” The project of this coming year, both for the new church plant and for Connexion, is nothing if not ambitious. It comes with incredible opportunities, but it also comes with a cost—a cost for my family, a cost for Joe’s family, a cost for whoever may end up joining us in this project, and obviously, a cost for all of you. When we planted Oberkampf last year, that was ambitious as well, and that too came with a cost. There are members of Connexion whom we love, whom we won’t see on Sundays in a couple months’ time.

So when we undertake any project like this, we always need to hold it up to the mirror of Scripture to see whether or not it’s is the sort of thing we should be doing. It’s not much of a spoiler to say that we believe the answer to that question is definitely yes; but it would be helpful to see clearly in Scripture why that is the case.

Two weeks ago, we started by looking at man’s ambition for himself (which often goes awry) and God’s ambition for his people (which is always bigger and better than our own). And last week we saw God’s ambition for the product of his church: the fruit that he calls us as individuals and as a body to bear for his kingdom.

That “fruit” is displayed primarily in holiness—a radical obedience to God’s commands. We see perhaps the most intense commandment for the church when Jesus tells his disciples to go and make disciples of all nations, in Matthew 28: those are the marching orders for the church.

Sadly, a lot of really ambitious ministers build ministries that allow them, the pastors, to serve themselves rather than serve the church. And even if we’re not exploiting people to get rich—even if we’re avoiding a so-called prosperity gospel—this self-serving sort of ministry is still quite easy to fall into. 

So how can we tell that a person’s or a church’s ambition is truly an ambition for the kingdom of God? How can we tell that our ambition is motivated by a true desire to obey Christ’s commands, and not to serve ourselves?

Those are our questions for today, and to answer them we’re going to be in Acts 16, v. 1-15.

In Acts 16, the apostle Paul is at the beginning of his ministry to the Gentiles. He’s traveling around and strengthening the church, sharing with them the Jerusalem apostles’ instructions, and sharing the gospel with those who have never heard it.

When the chapter begins he’s in an area in which there is still a good mix of Jewish and Gentile believers. And this is the context we’re going to start in. We’re going to see that true, godly ambition that is not self-serving, but that is for the kingdom of God, is displayed in four main ways in this text. 

The first is a willingness to go where people are, rather than making them come to you.

1. “All Things for All People” (v. 1-3)

Paul came also to Derbe and to Lystra. A disciple was there, named Timothy, the son of a Jewish woman who was a believer, but his father was a Greek. 2 He was well spoken of by the brothers at Lystra and Iconium. 3 Paul wanted Timothy to accompany him, and he took him and circumcised him because of the Jews who were in those places, for they all knew that his father was a Greek.

We’re not going to spend a lot of time here, because we actually spoke about this at length a few weeks ago when we were in 1 Corinthians 9. In 1 Cor. 9.22, Paul said that that “I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some.” That is, he has learned to adapt to the people around him in order to more effectively share the gospel with them.

Or, if wanted to put that another way, he never does anything that God prohibits—but he does many things he doesn’t have to do, but that are helpful for getting a foot in the door. The example Paul gave in 1 Corinthians was the fact that he refuses to be paid for his ministry.

The example we see here is maybe even better.

Paul meets this young believer Timothy, and sees that he’s got great potential. So he wants to take Timothy with him to be his protégé in ministry. But there’s a problem: the people where they’re going know Timothy, and know that he’s only half Jewish: his father was Greek. So if they want to be able to minister to everyone—Jews and Gentiles alike—they’ll run into a problem. According to the Law of Moses, in order to participate in the life of the synagogue, you had to be circumcised. Timothy isn’t circumcised—which means there are many places he won’t be able to go with Paul, many conversations he won’t be able to have.

We don’t know how old Timothy was at this time; we know he was a young man, but still…a man. Not a baby. I don’t want to put too fine a point on it, but if ever there was a picture of the extremes a Christian may be called to go to in order to become “all things for all people,” this is it. Timothy is circumcised as an adult, so that he can go with Paul where Paul needs to go.

And that’s what you’ll see in kingdom-oriented ambition—it’s not the only thing you’ll see, but you will see this. Kingdom-oriented ambition will go to people. And I don’t just mean geographically or physically. I mean relationally and culturally as well. We may have conversations with people who tell stories about things we don’t care about, but that we’ll invest in, not because we’re particularly interested in the story, but because we’re interested in the person. We may join clubs or serve local non-profits, not in order to proselytize by slipping in through the back door, but because ultimately the ministry of the kingdom is a ministry toward people. 

It’s important to notice that we have no mention in the text of a Jew who came to faith in Christ because Timothy could be present in the synagogue. Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t—we don’t know, and Luke (the author) doesn’t tell us because that’s not the point. We love people, and we want to meet them and serve them where they are, whether they ultimately come to faith or not. The result is God’s affair; our job is to meet people where they are.

The second way we see that Paul’s ambition is truly for the kingdom of God is found in the fact that he perseveres in faithful teaching, even when it’s hard.

2. Faithful Teaching Even When It’s Hard (v. 4-5)

4 As they went on their way through the cities, they delivered to them for observance the decisions that had been reached by the apostles and elders who were in Jerusalem. 5 So the churches were strengthened in the faith, and they increased in numbers daily.

This may not seem like that big of a deal, and Luke doesn’t spend a ton of time here because he already covered it in chapter 15. In that chapter, Paul met with the apostles in Jerusalem to arrive at a consensus as to what he should teach when he goes into a mixed territory, where there are both Jews and Gentiles. They needed to make sure they were all in agreement about questions like, Do Gentile believers need to follow the Law of Moses to be saved? Does a Christian essentially need to become a Jew?

And they agreed that the answer to this question was no. The apostles gave a couple of specific requirements that go back to what Paul wrote to the Corinthians, which we also saw recently: abstain from idolatry and sexual immorality, and a couple of other things that would have been cultural stumbling blocks. But the headline of those instructions was, No, Gentiles do not need to follow the Law of Moses, they do not need to become Jews, in order to follow Jesus Christ.

That was great news for the Gentiles, of course; but it would have been a very difficult sell for many Jewish believers, who were resisting this new religion because they feared losing their way of life and their cultural identity. The apostles, and Paul, knew that these instructions would be met with opposition from some corners.

And yet, they did it anyway. They faithfully communicated the decisions reached by the elders in Jerusalem, and shared the gospel boldly, even in the face of opposition.

So already we have two examples of ways to see that our ambition is for the kingdom of God, and not for ourselves: our teaching will remain faithful to God’s Word, even in the face of opposition; and we will be willing to adapt ourselves to the people we’re trying to reach (even when that adaptation is very difficult), in order to be able to communicate the gospel more effectively.

The question is, why would Paul and Timothy, why would anyone, be willing to do these hard things? What would make them willing to make courageous choices, take bold risks, make painful sacrifices (literally!), for the gospel?

The answer that we see in the second half of our passage is that Paul and Timothy are willing to take these kinds of risks because they know and fully believe that God is wise, God is good, and God is guiding them where they need to go.

That’s the next thing we see, the next validation of godly ambition for the kingdom of God:

3. Submission to God’s Direction (v. 6-10)

6 And they went through the region of Phrygia and Galatia, having been forbidden by the Holy Spirit to speak the word in Asia. 7 And when they had come up to Mysia, they attempted to go into Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus did not allow them. 8 So, passing by Mysia, they went down to Troas. 9 And a vision appeared to Paul in the night: a man of Macedonia was standing there, urging him and saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” 10 And when Paul had seen the vision, immediately we sought to go on into Macedonia, concluding that God had called us to preach the gospel to them.

When I sat down to prepare this sermon and came to these verses, my mind immediately went to all of the things that people could say about it. I’ve had so many of these conversations before. We’ll get into this more thoroughly in the fall, when we pick up 1 Corinthians again, so I won’t spend a lot of time here today.

One example may help. When I was about seventeen years old, there was a girl in our church, a friend of mine, whose mother came to me one Sunday and said, “You know, I had a dream last night that I believe came from the Lord, and in that dream God said you were going to marry my daughter.” She was absolutely serious; she brought it up more than once after that day.

Obviously, that dream she had was not a word from God; I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t that. 

That’s an extreme example, but people do sometimes talk this way. “I felt God telling me that I shouldn’t go into this place,” or “I shouldn’t take this job,” or “I should marry this person.” I’m not saying this doesn’t happen; I believe it does. God does give us strong convictions sometimes, and they shouldn’t be thrown away too easily because they make us uncomfortable.

However, there are two things I want to say about this today. Firstly, we need to be really be careful about making decisions based on these impressions we may have, because sometimes they’re just that: impressions. Even the apostles allowed for the possibility that they might be wrong; even the apostles often sought counsel. 

Secondly—and this is the main thing—the way in which God speaks to us through his Holy Spirit is not the point of these verses. Luke (the author) doesn’t say exactly how the Holy Spirit kept them from going to Asia, or how he kept them from going into Bithynia. And the fact that Paul had a dream that directed him to Macedonia doesn’t mean that everyone will, or that every dream is necessarily a word from God.

So if the way God speaks to us by his Spirit isn’t the point of these verses, what is the point?

The point is that God is the one building his church—not mainly the apostles. Paul and his companions want to go one place, and God stops them; they want to go somewhere else, he stops them; and then he brings them where they need to be.

Often God will direct his church into places they never even considered going before—either through circumstance or through conviction, or both. A couple of years ago we wanted to purchase the Chinese cultural center in the 10th for our church; it looked perfect, and we were pretty convinced it was the right way to God. But God kept us from going there—he kept our circumstances from lining up and allowing that purchase. Where is he going to guide Connexion in the future? I don’t know; but he does.

Similarly, we hadn’t considered planting a church in the east of Paris until several months ago, but when the opportunity arose, we had to ask ourselves, “Is this opportunity perhaps God’s way of directing us?” So we prayed, and we sought counsel, and we considered it very carefully. And over time, the circumstance and the conviction lined up.

There are a lot of things churches plan to do, that never come to pass; and there are a lot of things churches never plan for that actually work themselves out. 

God is the one who directs his church. God is the one who builds his church. A church with a real ambition for his kingdom will go where God directs, and they’ll do it joyfully, knowing that wherever he brings us is exactly where we need to be.

Which brings us to our fourth and last point. We can see a real ambition for the kingdom of God when we have open eyes for open doors.

4. Open Eyes for Open Doors (v. 10-15)

11 So, setting sail from Troas, we made a direct voyage to Samothrace, and the following day to Neapolis, 12 and from there to Philippi, which is a leading city of the district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. We remained in this city some days. 13 And on the Sabbath day we went outside the gate to the riverside, where we supposed there was a place of prayer, and we sat down and spoke to the women who had come together. 14 One who heard us was a woman named Lydia, from the city of Thyatira, a seller of purple goods, who was a worshiper of God. The Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what was said by Paul. 15 And after she was baptized, and her household as well, she urged us, saying, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come to my house and stay.” And she prevailed upon us.

So remember why they were in Philippi. Philippi was, as Luke tells us, a leading city of Macedonia and a Roman colony. It was filled with people who may well have been that man from Paul’s dream, saying, “Come to Macedonia and help us.” 

But we have no indication in the passage that they had a plan once they got to Philippi. They knew where God had directed them to go, but they didn’t have contacts in the city; there didn’t seem to be a huge Jewish presence in the city. A first step of any new ministry or church plant, once you know where you’re planning to go, is to simply spend time in a place and see what it’s like—see what can be done.

So they’re at the riverside on the Sabbath, where there was supposed to be a place of prayer. There’s a group of women gathered there, and Paul starts speaking to them about the gospel. 

Anyone who’s done something like this—just gone outside and shared the gospel with whoever happens to be there—knows that you never know exactly what’s going to happen. You may have people who are curious, who are pleasant and willing to talk (but no more than that), and you may have people who want nothing to do with you. The thing is, you just can’t know until you try.

Every time you walk outside in a city, there are people, and every person is a potential open door. You just never know until you say something to them. You never know until you knock on that door.

So that’s what Paul does—he starts talking to whoever’s there. And it so happens that there’s a woman in that group, a woman named Lydia, who “was a worshiper of God.” This doesn’t mean she was a Christian, but she was familiar with the God of the Jews and had at least some attachment to the Jewish religious life. Lydia was also a seller of purple goods, so she was likely wealthy and had a place of some prominence in the city.

She’s listening to Paul, and something happens. At the end of v. 14, we see one of the most astounding sentences in all of Scripture: “The Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what was said by Paul.”

When I first started reading my Bible seriously, I struggled a lot with the notion of the absolute sovereignty of God—the doctrine that says without a direct intervention on God’s part, no one comes to faith. Faith is a gift from God, it does not come from us. I didn’t like the idea that my faith was God’s doing and not mine, because it prompts a lot of questions about everyone who doesn’t have faith.

Acts 16.14 is one of those verses that I didn’t know what to do with, because it’s so unbelievably clear. Lydia was listening to what Paul was saying about Jesus—but plenty of people who are curious, even interested, listen to the gospel without really hearing it. Plenty of people hear the gospel and never come to faith.

But for everyone who does come to faith, there is a moment where what we see here happens in us. 

C. S. Lewis famously told the story of his conversion by saying (I’m paraphrasing), “I got on a bus an atheist; when I got off the bus, I was a Christian. I have no idea how or why I was convinced over the course of those few minutes, but I couldn’t deny it either.”

My father had a similar experience: he went to a religious service because there was a girl he liked. But at the end of the service, he no longer cared about the girl, because he had heard about this Jesus, and he believed in him, and he was desperate to know him.

For me, it happened far more gradually—I can’t put my finger on when it happened. But I do remember the moment when I realized that despite my best efforts to not be a Christian, I could no longer say I didn’t believe. That possibility had been taken out of my hands.

We go places and we cross paths with people and we begin talking to them, and we have no idea how it’s going to go or what’s going to come out of it. It may end really badly; we may say something embarrassing; we may not know how to answer a question; we may even lose a close friend or a relationship we cared deeply about.

So why do we do it?

We do it because God is sovereign. We do it because when God decides to save someone, that person is saved—he opens their heart to pay attention to the gospel and believe. And the possibility that that could happen is just too real, and too desirable, to ignore.

Already, if Lydia were the only person in Philippi to meet Christ, that would have been a happy ending to the story. But we see in v. 15 that Lydia believes and is baptized, and then everyone in her house as well. Then she invites Paul and his collaborators to come stay in her house. And her house becomes the first hub for the Christian faith in Philippi—they become the Philippian church. 

One conversation by the side of a river leads to the founding of a brand new church in a place that had none before. And if you read on, you see that this church radically upended the socio-economic life of that city. 

All because from the very beginning, Paul and his companions had open eyes for any door that God may open for them. God knew what he was doing, and he did it very well.

Conclusion

I know that the current context of the church can make things feel a bit uncertain. We’ve got Oberkampf launching in a little over two months, then we’ve got another church plant in preparation which will mean losing a pastor and transitioning to another one. We want to make things as easy as possible for you all during that transition, and thankfully, we’ve got time to give you all the details as we go.

But I hope you see that none of these things are bad. Moving into situations that stretch us is not bad; it’s how we grow. Taking risks for the kingdom of God isn’t bad; that’s how the kingdom progresses. Stepping into uncertainty isn’t bad; it forces us to trust in God’s power and wisdom to bring us where he wants us to be. 

Ambition for the kingdom requires us to go. It requires us to sacrifice and meet people where they are. It requires us to be humble enough to accept a change of plans, and to be okay with the fact that God sometimes says, “No, that’s not where I want you.” It requires it to have a keen radar for opportunity, and to keep our eyes open for any open doors God may place in our path.

Everything we’ve seen today is both true for the church, and true for us as individuals.

God may ask you to make hard choices and to prioritize an opportunity for the kingdom of God over your own comfort or preferences.

God will ask you to submit to his Word even when it goes against what you want to do.

God will ask you to be humble enough to accept that he knows where you need to be better than you do, and to trust that his plans are better than yours.

God will ask you to keep your eyes open to those around you—your neighbors or your colleagues or your friends or your family—and seize every opportunity you have to serve them and love them well, to show them Jesus and to speak to them about Jesus.

Is this a risky life? Sure it is. Does it bring pain and fear? Absolutely yes.

Is it good? If the Bible is telling the truth, and the kingdom of God is the ultimate goal and the ultimate blessing for the world that God made, then it’s better than anything we could imagine. The life to which he calls us is the life for which he made us—for his glory, and for our joy, now and forever.

The Ambition of a Great Harvest (John 15:1-17)

1. The Vine, Its Branches, and Its Fruit

1.1 The True Vine (vv. 1–3)

Jesus says that he is the "true vine", or "the true stock" (the base of the vine), and his very intentional use of this image has two main reasons.

The first is that this is an image used by several Old Testament prophets to speak of Israel, God's chosen people. On the whole, the texts that present Israel as God's vine are rather critical: they are pictures meant to show that God cared for his people and yet the people did not produce fruit that pleased him.

When Jesus says that he is the "true" vine, he is saying that the true Israel will now be those who are attached to him, as branches of the vine. And he is also saying that this vine will produce the right kind of fruit.

The other reason Jesus uses the image of the vine is that it lets him communicate the dynamic between him, us, and God the Father. Jesus says he is the vine; we are the branches. So we really are part of the vine when we are attached to him! That is precisely the difference between the vine and the branches.

A vine without a branch can still grow a new branch to produce fruit. Whereas a branch without the vine… is of no use at all. A branch that is not attached to the vine produces no fruit and serves no purpose. In the same way, a branch that produces no fruit must not be kept on the vine: every branch that bears no fruit is cut off by the gardener.

Here we see the role of the Father: the gardener. The one who cares for the vine, who supplies the vine with what it needs, the one who also removes the branches that bear no fruit. The one who also tends and prunes the branches that do bear fruit. Yes, even the branches that bear fruit must be pruned, tended, so that they bear even more fruit.

1.2 The True Fruit

What fruit are we talking about here? In the Old Testament, we hear of the fruit of righteousness. Obedience to God, obedience to his commandments. The opposite would be injustice, violence, sin. Here, in this text, Jesus also mentions obedience to the commandments, and he sums them up in a single commandment: love. That does not mean he abolishes every kind of commandment or instruction, but he establishes that they all flow from this one: to abide in the love of God and to love our neighbors.

But Jesus does not give a narrow definition of "bearing fruit" here. We can say it is everything done, by his disciples, in full communion with Christ and his work. Everything done in communion with the love of Christ, everything done in communion with the mission of Christ. Love for God and neighbor, respect for the teachings of Jesus, a faithful witness to his gospel, a joy full of gratitude. All of this is the fruit borne by a branch attached to its vine.

1.3 "Abide": The Thread Running Through the Passage

But only by a branch that abides in the vine. That verb, "abide," is the most frequent word in this passage: it appears more than ten times. It is the thread that ties together the whole meaning of this text:

"Abide in me, and I in you." (v. 4)

"Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing." (v. 5)

"If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers." (v. 6)

"If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you." (v. 7)

"Abide in my love." (v. 9)

"If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love." (v. 10)

"These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you." (v. 11)

"You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide." (v. 16)

Notice that this repetition is intentional. This word, this verb, ties the different ideas of the text together into a single dynamic. When we abide in Jesus, he abides in us. We abide in Jesus when his words abide in us. When we abide in Jesus, we abide in his love. When we abide in Jesus, his joy abides in us. When we abide in Jesus, we bear fruit, and that fruit abides. It is not just something temporary.

When Jesus tells his disciples to abide in him, it is more than a simple exhortation to "stay on the right path." It is a call to be constantly aware of our union with him, of our attachment to the vine. When we know that we "abide" in Jesus, this gives us both a confidence in his love for us (because we abide in his love) and also humility, because we remain aware that without Jesus we can do nothing that will truly last. As he says in verse 5: "apart from me you can do nothing."

2. God's Ambition for Us

2.1 Humility and Ambition: "Up or Out" (v. 2)

And here again we see the tension between humility and ambition that Jason mentioned last week. Humility, because without Jesus we can do nothing. But the program is highly ambitious: in verse 2 we read that every branch that bears fruit is pruned, cleansed, so that it bears even more fruit, much fruit. We are in an "up or out" dynamic: either a branch bears no fruit, and then it is removed, or it bears fruit, and God works on it so that it bears more and more fruit.

There is no third option, no third way where a branch sits there bearing a little fruit, now and then, and is simply left alone like that. No. Abiding in Jesus always produces a transformation, a transformation that continues throughout our Christian life.

2.2 Sanctification: Distinct From, but Inseparable From, Justification

We are indeed talking about what we call sanctification. Sometimes when we speak of the gospel, when we speak of salvation, we tend to speak first of justification: through the death and resurrection of Jesus we are declared righteous before God, declared perfect, without any condemnation.

But here we are talking about sanctification: believers, through the work of the Holy Spirit in us, grow progressively in their obedience, their love, their righteousness. They become - little by little, and sometimes with quite striking progress - what Jesus has already declared them to be. Through sanctification, we bear more and more fruit.

But here is something important to know: while justification and sanctification are two works of God that we can distinguish, we cannot separate them. We cannot say, "Oh no, I don't want the full menu, I just want justification." Look at the text: the branches that abide in the vine bear fruit. Much fruit.

In verse 16 we also see that sanctification is not an extra, an additional and optional experience of the Christian faith, it is the very reason God chose us. It is God's ambition for us!

"You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide."

Why does Jesus want us to bear fruit? Because this is what glorifies his Father (v. 8):

"By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples."

God displays his glory through his children who live according to his character, who put his love into practice, who bear witness to his greatness and his salvation.

Have you ever wondered, "Why, after we are saved, does God keep us here instead of bringing us home to himself right away?" This is why: "I appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide." That is God's ambition for us, a verse we should know by heart.

2.3 Chosen and Sent to Bear Fruit (vv. 13–16)

God has a plan, an ambition. He chose Abraham to be part of this invitation, we saw that last week. He has chosen us too! It is, in a sense, the same ambition: to bless the whole earth from a people who have a source, the vine Jesus.

And just as Abraham was called a friend of God, because God shared his plan with him and made him part of his ambition, Jesus also calls us his friends, not merely his servants, because he has revealed to us his plan, his mission, his Father's ambition for us. So when he asks us to keep his commandments, it is not as mere executors, but as accomplices in a highly ambitious plan that has been revealed to us in his word, as accomplices in the mission of the vine, which is to bear a great quantity of fruit, so that it may cover the whole earth.

In Jesus, we are called to express a love for one another that reflects the love he showed in laying down his life for us. In him, we are sent, just as Jesus was sent by the Father, to bear witness to his Kingdom everywhere in the world. In him, we have access to all the blessings we need in order to bear fruit.

This, in fact, is what the two verses here about prayer are speaking of. It is not a blank check, as if "if you are in this spiritual state, you have the right to ask whatever you want and God will do it", but rather that God grants us in prayer what we ask "in Jesus' name," in order to accomplish Jesus' mission according to the Father's will.

"In Jesus' name" here is not a formula that gives power to a prayer. Picture the director of a company, who has the right to make requests in the company's name. Or an assistant, who has the right to make requests in his boss's name. But in either case, they cannot make requests that contradict the one they represent. So "whatever you ask in my name," which Jesus mentions here, is at once an authorization to pray in his name, an encouragement to pray in his name, but also a condition for praying in his name.

3. Conclusion

What should we take from all this? And above all, how do we live it out, concretely, this week?

Abide First, Bear Fruit Afterward

Notice that here, fruit is spoken of as a consequence of abiding in Jesus. It is not because we bear fruit that we have been attached to the vine — we could never have done that on our own. But because we abide in the vine, we bear fruit.

That is why Jesus insists on the verb "abide": "abide in me." This is not an invitation to try to produce fruit by sheer willpower. Concretely, it means nourishing our union with Christ: through his word, which must abide in us; through prayer, by which God will give us what we need to bear fruit; and within his church, in love for the whole of God's vine.

Accept Being Pruned, in Order to Bear More Fruit

It is clear in the text that God tends the branches of his vine, that he cleanses them so that they bear even more fruit. Sometimes this pruning is something as simple as a word we read or hear that speaks to us, which the Holy Spirit uses to make us grow in maturity. Sometimes it is not comfortable: a trial, a difficult correction. But let us remember one thing: when God prunes a branch, it is not to punish it, it is precisely because it is already bearing fruit, and because his ambition for us is great. Let us not resist the work God is doing in us.

Fruit Turned Toward Others

The fruit Jesus speaks of is never a private fruit, kept for oneself. Nor is it an inward-looking love within the community, a comfortable cocoon. Yes, it is "love one another," but it is also a sending: "I appointed you that you should go", a witness given to the world, showing by our words and our actions the great Savior to whom we are attached. A church truly attached to the true vine does not turn in on itself; it bears fruit for the whole earth.

A Great Ambition That Includes Us

And this is perhaps the most astonishing thing. When Jesus unfolds his ambition (to cover the earth with fruit, for the glory of the Father), he does not treat us as mere executors who are handed orders without anything being said or explained. To us, he has revealed his plan, his ambition, his kingdom, and his salvation. It is an ambition that includes us not only as co-participants, but also as co-beneficiaries of the plan.

Just as Abraham was blessed in receiving God's ambition, Jesus makes us share in his own. So we are not labor in the service of a project that surpasses us and ignores us: we are invited inside God's ambition, to understand its meaning and to find our place in it, so that our joy may be complete.