William MacDonald
“Am I therefore become your enemy, because I tell you the truth?” (Gal. 4:16)
Paul’s experience with the Christians in Galatia reminds us that we often make enemies of our friends when we tell them the truth. The apostle had introduced these people to the Lord and nurtured them in the faith. But later when false teachers infiltrated their Christian assemblies, Paul had to warn believers that they were forsaking Christ for the law. That caused them to become hostile toward their father in the faith.
It was also true in Old Testament times. Elijah was always honest and forthright in his messages to Ahab. Yet one day when Ahab met him, he said, “Art thou he that troubleth Israel?” (1 Ki. 18:17). “Troubleth Israel”? Why, Elijah was one of the best friends Israel ever had! But his thanks for being faithful was to be denounced as a troublemaker.
Micaiah was another fearless prophet. When Jehoshaphat asked if there was a prophet of the Lord whom they could consult, the king of Israel said, “There is yet one man, Micaiah the son of Imlah, by whom we may inquire of the Lord: but I hate him; for he doth not prophesy good concerning me, but evil.” The king didn’t want the truth, and hated the one who spoke it to him.
In the New Testament we find John the Baptist telling Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife” (Mk. 6:18 NIV). It was true, but such courageous handling of the truth soon led to John’s execution.
Our Lord stirred up the hatred of the unbelieving Jews. What caused this hatred? It was because He had told them the truth. He said, “But now ye seek to kill me, a man that hath told you the truth” (John 8:40).
Thomas Jefferson wrote, “If you meant to escape malice, you should have confined yourself within the sleepy line of regular duty. There are two sides to every question, and if you take one with decision and act on it with effect, those who take the other will, of course, be hostile in proportion as they feel that effect.”
The truth often hurts. Instead of bowing to it, men often curse the one who speaks it. The true servant of the Lord has already counted this cost. He must speak the truth or die. He knows that the wounds of a friend are faithful, but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful (Prov. 27:6).
Friday, September 25, 2009
Truths to Live By - One Day at a Time
William MacDonald
“I have learned by experience.” (Gen. 30:27)
Laban had learned by experience that the Lord had blessed him for Jacob’s sake. It was a good lesson to learn. Experience is a great teacher.
I am impressed by the way that experience often helps us to understand verses in the Bible. We may be acquainted with the verses intellectually, but when we pass through some new experience, the verses come alive. They seem to stand out in neon lights. We have a new appreciation of them.
Martin Luther’s wife said that she would never have known what certain verses in the Psalms meant if God had not brought her under certain afflictions.
When Daniel Smith and his wife were missionaries in China, a robber band cut a wide hole through the side of their house one night. While the Smith’s slept, the robbers cleaned out the drawers and cupboards. If the missionaries had not slept soundly, they might have been killed. Later, in describing the incident, Mr. Smith said, “I never understood Habakkuk 3:17, 18 until that morning. ‘Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.’” What it means, of course, is that you can’t fully enter into Habakkuk’s joy in calamity until you have experienced the kind of loss that he described.
When Corrie Ten Boom was in a concentration camp, she had to appear before the judge. “The judge…still had his job to do, and there came a day when he showed me papers that could mean not only my death sentence but also the death sentence of family and friends.
“‘Can you explain these papers?’ he asked. ‘No, I can’t,’ I admitted. Suddenly he took all the papers and threw them in the stove! When I saw the flames destroy those condemning papers I knew I had been guarded by divine power, and understood as never before Colossians 2:14: ‘Blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us, which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to his cross.’”
The new insights we gain in the sacred Scriptures through the experiences of life make those experiences tremendously worthwhile.
Truths to Live By - One Day at a Time
William MacDonald
“O my soul, come not thou into their secret.” (Gen. 49:6)
These words are found in Jacob’s blessing of his sons. When he thought of the cruelty which Simeon and Levi showed to the men of Shechem, he said, “O my soul, come not thou into their secret.”
I would like to borrow the words and use them in a broader sense. There are secrets connected with sin which it is better never to know.
Temptation puts on its best face and suggests that we can never be happy until we have been initiated into its mysteries. It offers thrills, physical gratification, emotional highs, and the lure of the unknown.
Many people, especially those who have lived sheltered lives, are stirred by these appeals. They feel that they have missed out on true pleasures. They consider themselves disadvantaged. They think they can never be satisfied until they get a taste of the world.
The trouble is that sin does not come alone. There are built-in hazards and enduring consequences. When we come to experience any sin for the first time, we unloose a flood of pain and remorse.
Yielding to temptation lowers our resistance to sin. Once we have committed a sin, it is always easier to do it the next time. Soon we become expert in the sin. We even become slaves to it, bound by the chains of habit.
The moment we give in to temptation, our eyes are opened to a sense of guilt that we never had before. The exhilaration of breaking the code of sin is followed by a terrible sense of moral nakedness. It is true that the sin can be confessed and forgiven, but all through life there is the embarrassment of meeting former partners in transgression. There is the stabbing of memory when we unavoidably revisit the places of our folly. There are unwanted occasions when the whole sordid episode flashes back during our most holy moments—when our bodies actually pulsate and our lips muffle a groan.
While it is wonderful to experience the forgiveness of God for these sins, it is still better not to enter into their secrets in the first place. What poses as an attractive secret proves to be a nightmare. Pleasure soon turns to horror, and a moment of passion results in a lifetime of regret.
In the hour of trial, our response should be, “O my soul, come not thou into their secret.”
“O my soul, come not thou into their secret.” (Gen. 49:6)
These words are found in Jacob’s blessing of his sons. When he thought of the cruelty which Simeon and Levi showed to the men of Shechem, he said, “O my soul, come not thou into their secret.”
I would like to borrow the words and use them in a broader sense. There are secrets connected with sin which it is better never to know.
Temptation puts on its best face and suggests that we can never be happy until we have been initiated into its mysteries. It offers thrills, physical gratification, emotional highs, and the lure of the unknown.
Many people, especially those who have lived sheltered lives, are stirred by these appeals. They feel that they have missed out on true pleasures. They consider themselves disadvantaged. They think they can never be satisfied until they get a taste of the world.
The trouble is that sin does not come alone. There are built-in hazards and enduring consequences. When we come to experience any sin for the first time, we unloose a flood of pain and remorse.
Yielding to temptation lowers our resistance to sin. Once we have committed a sin, it is always easier to do it the next time. Soon we become expert in the sin. We even become slaves to it, bound by the chains of habit.
The moment we give in to temptation, our eyes are opened to a sense of guilt that we never had before. The exhilaration of breaking the code of sin is followed by a terrible sense of moral nakedness. It is true that the sin can be confessed and forgiven, but all through life there is the embarrassment of meeting former partners in transgression. There is the stabbing of memory when we unavoidably revisit the places of our folly. There are unwanted occasions when the whole sordid episode flashes back during our most holy moments—when our bodies actually pulsate and our lips muffle a groan.
While it is wonderful to experience the forgiveness of God for these sins, it is still better not to enter into their secrets in the first place. What poses as an attractive secret proves to be a nightmare. Pleasure soon turns to horror, and a moment of passion results in a lifetime of regret.
In the hour of trial, our response should be, “O my soul, come not thou into their secret.”
Truths to Live By - One Day at a Time
William MacDonald
“…say Amen.” (1 Cor. 14:16)
Amen is an extremely useful word with which to express hearty approval of what is being said. Many congregations could afford to use it more often in their services.
The word is found 68 times in the Bible. From 1 Corinthians 14:15, 16 it is clear that it was used in the meetings of the early church. So we can be assured that the use of the Amen is eminently scriptural.
Not only so, it is imperative. The sublime nature of the truths we deal with require the intelligent expression of enthusiastic appreciation. It seems like ingratitude to hear such truths and never make a vocal response.
It is always an encouragement to the speaker when his audience says “Amen” at those places in his message where he has made an effective point. It tells him that the people are following him and that they share his spiritual and emotional exuberance.
And it is good for the person who says the Amen. It keeps him involved as an attentive listener. It keeps him from becoming apathetic when he should be amazed.
I would suggest that it is good for outsiders who may be present. They sense that the Christians are enthusiastic, that they enjoy their faith, that they believe what they believe. The use of the Amen expresses life and fervor. Its absence speaks of dullness and deadness.
Amen is one of three Bible words that are practically universal. In most languages these words are the same. So you can go almost anywhere and say, “Maranatha! Hallelujah! Amen!” and people will understand you as saying “The Lord is coming! Praise the Lord! So be it.”
Of course, the word “Amen” should be used discerningly. It would be inappropriate to use it to express enthusiasm over misfortune, tragedy or sorrow.
It is a shame that some bodies of Christians have stopped using the Amen because it has been abused in meetings given over to extreme emotionalism. Like all good things, it can be used or overdone. But we should not be robbed of this scriptural practice just because some have used it undiscerningly. Amen?
“…say Amen.” (1 Cor. 14:16)
Amen is an extremely useful word with which to express hearty approval of what is being said. Many congregations could afford to use it more often in their services.
The word is found 68 times in the Bible. From 1 Corinthians 14:15, 16 it is clear that it was used in the meetings of the early church. So we can be assured that the use of the Amen is eminently scriptural.
Not only so, it is imperative. The sublime nature of the truths we deal with require the intelligent expression of enthusiastic appreciation. It seems like ingratitude to hear such truths and never make a vocal response.
It is always an encouragement to the speaker when his audience says “Amen” at those places in his message where he has made an effective point. It tells him that the people are following him and that they share his spiritual and emotional exuberance.
And it is good for the person who says the Amen. It keeps him involved as an attentive listener. It keeps him from becoming apathetic when he should be amazed.
I would suggest that it is good for outsiders who may be present. They sense that the Christians are enthusiastic, that they enjoy their faith, that they believe what they believe. The use of the Amen expresses life and fervor. Its absence speaks of dullness and deadness.
Amen is one of three Bible words that are practically universal. In most languages these words are the same. So you can go almost anywhere and say, “Maranatha! Hallelujah! Amen!” and people will understand you as saying “The Lord is coming! Praise the Lord! So be it.”
Of course, the word “Amen” should be used discerningly. It would be inappropriate to use it to express enthusiasm over misfortune, tragedy or sorrow.
It is a shame that some bodies of Christians have stopped using the Amen because it has been abused in meetings given over to extreme emotionalism. Like all good things, it can be used or overdone. But we should not be robbed of this scriptural practice just because some have used it undiscerningly. Amen?
Truths to Live By - One Day at a Time
William MacDonald
“Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.” (2 Tim. 4:8)
“…them also that love his appearing.” For many years I thought that this expression referred to those believers who had kindly, sentimental feelings about the coming of the Lord. They would be rewarded with a crown of righteousness because their hearts glowed warm when they thought about the Rapture.
But surely it means more than this. To love His appearance means to live in the light of His coming, to behave as if He were coming today.
Thus, to love His appearing means to live in moral purity. For, as John reminds us, “every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure” (1 John 3:3).
It means to stay disentangled from the things of this life. We should set our affections on things above, not on things on the earth (Col. 3:2).
It means to serve God’s people, giving them “meat in due season” (Matt. 24:45). The Lord pronounces a special blessing on those who are doing that when He comes.
In short, it means that we won’t do anything that we would not want to be found doing when He appears. We would not go anywhere that would cause shame at His coming. We would not say anything that would be offensive in His presence.
If you knew Christ were coming in a week, how would you spend the intervening days? Does it mean you would give up your job, go to a mountaintop and spend all day reading the Bible and praying? Does it mean you would go into “full-time Christian work,” preaching and teaching day and night?
If we are really walking with the Lord today and living in the center of His will, it would mean carrying on as usual. If, however, we are living for self, then it would require some revolutionary changes.
It is not enough to have kind thoughts about the Savior’s return. The crown of righteousness is reserved for those who love it enough to let the truth mold their lives. It is not enough to hold the truth about His coming; the truth must hold us.
“Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.” (2 Tim. 4:8)
“…them also that love his appearing.” For many years I thought that this expression referred to those believers who had kindly, sentimental feelings about the coming of the Lord. They would be rewarded with a crown of righteousness because their hearts glowed warm when they thought about the Rapture.
But surely it means more than this. To love His appearance means to live in the light of His coming, to behave as if He were coming today.
Thus, to love His appearing means to live in moral purity. For, as John reminds us, “every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure” (1 John 3:3).
It means to stay disentangled from the things of this life. We should set our affections on things above, not on things on the earth (Col. 3:2).
It means to serve God’s people, giving them “meat in due season” (Matt. 24:45). The Lord pronounces a special blessing on those who are doing that when He comes.
In short, it means that we won’t do anything that we would not want to be found doing when He appears. We would not go anywhere that would cause shame at His coming. We would not say anything that would be offensive in His presence.
If you knew Christ were coming in a week, how would you spend the intervening days? Does it mean you would give up your job, go to a mountaintop and spend all day reading the Bible and praying? Does it mean you would go into “full-time Christian work,” preaching and teaching day and night?
If we are really walking with the Lord today and living in the center of His will, it would mean carrying on as usual. If, however, we are living for self, then it would require some revolutionary changes.
It is not enough to have kind thoughts about the Savior’s return. The crown of righteousness is reserved for those who love it enough to let the truth mold their lives. It is not enough to hold the truth about His coming; the truth must hold us.
Truths to Live By - One Day at a Time
William MacDonald
“For when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly.” (Rom. 5:6)
Christ did not come to call the righteous nor did He die for good people. It was not for decent, respectable, refined people that He went to the Cross. He died for the ungodly.
Of course, from God’s standpoint, all mankind is ungodly. We were all born in sin and shaped in iniquity. Like lost sheep, we have gone astray and turned to our own way. In God’s pure eyes, we are depraved, unclean and rebellious. Our best efforts to do what is right are nothing but filthy rags.
The trouble is that most people are not willing to admit that they are ungodly. By comparing themselves with the criminal elements in society, they imagine that they are quite fit for heaven. They are like the distinguished upper-class matron who prided herself on her social involvement and donations to charity. When a Christian neighbor witnessed to her, she said she felt no need of being saved; her own good works were sufficient. She reminded him that she was a church member and that she came from a long line of “Christians.” The Christian took a slip of paper, wrote UNGODLY on it in capital letters, then turned to her and asked, “Would you mind if I pinned this to your blouse?” When she saw the word UNGODLY, she bristled. “Of course, I would mind,” she said. “No one is going to tell me I’m ungodly.” He then explained to her that by refusing to admit her sinful, lost, hopeless condition, she cut herself off from any benefit in the saving work of Christ. If she wouldn’t confess she was ungodly, then Christ didn’t die for her. If she wasn’t lost, then she couldn’t be saved. If she was well, then she didn’t need the Great Physician.
A special party was once held in a large civic auditorium. It was for children who were blind, crippled or otherwise impaired. The youngsters came in wheelchairs, on crutches, and led by the hand. While the party was underway, a patrolman found a little boy crying on the front steps of the building.
“Why’re you crying,” he asked sympathetically?
“Because they won’t let me in.”
“Why won’t they let you in?”
The little fellow sobbed, “Because there’s nothing the matter with me.”
That’s the way it is with the Gospel feast. If there’s nothing the matter with you, you can’t get in. In order to gain admittance, you have to prove that you are a sinner. You have to acknowledge that you are ungodly. It was for the ungodly that Christ died. As Robert Munger said, “The Church is the only fellowship in the world where the one requirement for membership is the unworthiness of the candidate.”
“For when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly.” (Rom. 5:6)
Christ did not come to call the righteous nor did He die for good people. It was not for decent, respectable, refined people that He went to the Cross. He died for the ungodly.
Of course, from God’s standpoint, all mankind is ungodly. We were all born in sin and shaped in iniquity. Like lost sheep, we have gone astray and turned to our own way. In God’s pure eyes, we are depraved, unclean and rebellious. Our best efforts to do what is right are nothing but filthy rags.
The trouble is that most people are not willing to admit that they are ungodly. By comparing themselves with the criminal elements in society, they imagine that they are quite fit for heaven. They are like the distinguished upper-class matron who prided herself on her social involvement and donations to charity. When a Christian neighbor witnessed to her, she said she felt no need of being saved; her own good works were sufficient. She reminded him that she was a church member and that she came from a long line of “Christians.” The Christian took a slip of paper, wrote UNGODLY on it in capital letters, then turned to her and asked, “Would you mind if I pinned this to your blouse?” When she saw the word UNGODLY, she bristled. “Of course, I would mind,” she said. “No one is going to tell me I’m ungodly.” He then explained to her that by refusing to admit her sinful, lost, hopeless condition, she cut herself off from any benefit in the saving work of Christ. If she wouldn’t confess she was ungodly, then Christ didn’t die for her. If she wasn’t lost, then she couldn’t be saved. If she was well, then she didn’t need the Great Physician.
A special party was once held in a large civic auditorium. It was for children who were blind, crippled or otherwise impaired. The youngsters came in wheelchairs, on crutches, and led by the hand. While the party was underway, a patrolman found a little boy crying on the front steps of the building.
“Why’re you crying,” he asked sympathetically?
“Because they won’t let me in.”
“Why won’t they let you in?”
The little fellow sobbed, “Because there’s nothing the matter with me.”
That’s the way it is with the Gospel feast. If there’s nothing the matter with you, you can’t get in. In order to gain admittance, you have to prove that you are a sinner. You have to acknowledge that you are ungodly. It was for the ungodly that Christ died. As Robert Munger said, “The Church is the only fellowship in the world where the one requirement for membership is the unworthiness of the candidate.”
Truths to Live By - One Day at a Time
William MacDonald
“Were there not ten cleansed? but where are the nine?” (Lu. 17:17)
The Lord Jesus healed ten lepers but only one returned to thank Him, and that one was a despised Samaritan.
One of the valuable experiences for us in life is to encounter ingratitude, for then we can share in a small degree the heartbreak of God. When we give generously and do not receive so much as an acknowledgment, we have a greater appreciation of Him who gave His beloved Son for a thankless world. When we pour out ourselves in tireless service for others, we join the fellowship of the One who took the place of a slave for a race of ingrates.
Unthankfulness is one of the unlovely traits of fallen man. Paul reminds us that when the pagan world knew God, they glorified Him not as God, neither were thankful (Rom. 1:21). A missionary to Brazil discovered two tribes who had no words for “Thank you.” If a kindness was shown to them, they would say “That is what I wanted” or “That will be useful to me.” Another missionary, working in North Africa, found that those to whom he ministered never expressed gratitude because they were giving him the opportunity of earning merit with God. It was the missionary who should be grateful, they felt, because he was acquiring favor through the kindness he showed them.
Ingratitude permeates all of society. A radio program called “Job Center of the Air” succeeded in finding jobs for 2500 people. The emcee later reported that only ten ever took time to thank him.
A dedicated school teacher had poured her life into fifty classes of students. When she was eighty, she received a letter from one of her former students, telling how much he appreciated her help. She had taught for fifty years and this was the only letter of appreciation she had ever received.
We said that it is good for us to experience ingratitude because it gives us a pale reflection of what the Lord experiences all the time. Another reason why it is a valuable experience is that it impresses on us the importance of being thankful ourselves. Too often our requests to God outweigh our thanksgiving. We take His blessings too much for granted. And too often we fail to express our appreciation to one another for hospitality, for instruction, for transportation, for provision, for numberless deeds of kindness. We actually come to expect these favors almost as if we deserved them.
The study of the ten lepers should be a constant reminder to us that while many have great cause for thanksgiving, few have the heart to acknowledge it. Shall we be among the few?
“Were there not ten cleansed? but where are the nine?” (Lu. 17:17)
The Lord Jesus healed ten lepers but only one returned to thank Him, and that one was a despised Samaritan.
One of the valuable experiences for us in life is to encounter ingratitude, for then we can share in a small degree the heartbreak of God. When we give generously and do not receive so much as an acknowledgment, we have a greater appreciation of Him who gave His beloved Son for a thankless world. When we pour out ourselves in tireless service for others, we join the fellowship of the One who took the place of a slave for a race of ingrates.
Unthankfulness is one of the unlovely traits of fallen man. Paul reminds us that when the pagan world knew God, they glorified Him not as God, neither were thankful (Rom. 1:21). A missionary to Brazil discovered two tribes who had no words for “Thank you.” If a kindness was shown to them, they would say “That is what I wanted” or “That will be useful to me.” Another missionary, working in North Africa, found that those to whom he ministered never expressed gratitude because they were giving him the opportunity of earning merit with God. It was the missionary who should be grateful, they felt, because he was acquiring favor through the kindness he showed them.
Ingratitude permeates all of society. A radio program called “Job Center of the Air” succeeded in finding jobs for 2500 people. The emcee later reported that only ten ever took time to thank him.
A dedicated school teacher had poured her life into fifty classes of students. When she was eighty, she received a letter from one of her former students, telling how much he appreciated her help. She had taught for fifty years and this was the only letter of appreciation she had ever received.
We said that it is good for us to experience ingratitude because it gives us a pale reflection of what the Lord experiences all the time. Another reason why it is a valuable experience is that it impresses on us the importance of being thankful ourselves. Too often our requests to God outweigh our thanksgiving. We take His blessings too much for granted. And too often we fail to express our appreciation to one another for hospitality, for instruction, for transportation, for provision, for numberless deeds of kindness. We actually come to expect these favors almost as if we deserved them.
The study of the ten lepers should be a constant reminder to us that while many have great cause for thanksgiving, few have the heart to acknowledge it. Shall we be among the few?
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