Thinking about Matthew

Lately I've been reading a great book about the Old Testament, written by Christopher J.H. Wright, called "Knowing Jesus Through the Old Testament." In the book, Wright does a great job of showing Jesus' identity to be completely consistent with, and the fulfillment of, God's plans in the Old Testament. I always find thinking about the OT refreshing, since so much of the time it gets neglected by modern Christians. What really stuck out to me though was the way Wright explains the OT quotes in the first few chapters of Matthew's gospel. Matthew quotes the OT five times, using the words "This was to fulfill what was written in . . . ". By doing so, Matthew takes a sweep of the OT and its promises, and shows Christ in them, making Matthew one of the greatest OT theologians of all time (though certainly Paul and the author of Hebrews would also be in the running). Now who is Matthew? He is a tax collector. We therefore know that he was, at the very least, a collaborator with the Roman occupiers. He was also quite possibly corrupt, as his wages were gotten by taking 'extra' taxes on top of whatever the authorities wanted. He was in fact such an unsavory character that more 'respectable' people (read: religious authorities) took offense at Jesus dining with him and his friends. In a world where groups of people spent their lives studying, memorizing, and understanding (or so they thought) the Old Testament, the guy who would understand what the OT was really about, and apply it correctly, was Matthew. Of course, a renowned OT scholar also 'got the message' and truly understood it - Paul. But even here we see that the 'religious' man had to be struck blind and receive revelation before he could be turned, whilst the ordinary bureaucrat got up and left everything at Jesus' word. This is both a great encouragement to all of us who yearn to know God's Word, and a terrible warning, lest we EVER think that our own scholarship, or religiosity, could ever bring us true knowledge of God. Let us always praise, submit to, and depend on the Holy Spirit, that same Spirit who opened the eyes of bureaucrat and Pharisee alike. As we read our Bibles, that is the only ground worth standing on.

God's Pleasurable Mercy

I am a huge fan of the writing of John Piper, mainly because he combines a great deal of passion with sound theology (thus showing that the two are not opposed to one another!). In fact, one of Piper's central points (also developed quite extensively by Jonathan Edwards) is that sound theology (that is, a proper view of God and His character) requires passion. But I digress.

One of Piper's great books is called The Pleasures of God. And in it, he points out a fact which I suppose I know in my mind, but which has only recently begun to enter into my heart - the fact that God delights in showing us mercy (ibid, p303-312). Piper exegetes Luke 12:32 to make his point:

"Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's pleasure to give you the kingdom." (ESV)

To put this into context, Jesus says this in the midst of exhorting his disciples to let go of the cares of this world:

"And he said to his dsciples, 'Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Bit if God so clothes the grass, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you. Fear not little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." (Luke 12:22-34, ESV, emphasis added).

This sentence is the lynchpin on which the whole thing turns. All of these worldly worries, which we are told over and over again to put down, depend on our belief in one word: pleasure. God actually wants to save me. He's really happy about it. It was his pleasure, involving every bit of pain and suffering endured by His own Son on the cross, to grant me (and everyone else who believes) the kingdom. I have read these words certainly dozens of times, but it feels as if it's never quite gotten through to me. Somewhere, deep down inside, I feel as if God is willing to show me mercy, but He's not happy about it. I beat myself up, feeling as if I've never done what I was supposed to do with the gifts that God has given me. I twist the scriptures which tell us that from those to whom much has been given, much shall be expected (cf Luke 12:48). In my version, the 'much' that has been given is my talent, and the 'much' that is expected, is at least a little bit more than anything I've ever done. Not only does this manifest itself as fear that I've failed on God's standards, but even the World's standards worm their way in! So I've been doubly bruised. I never can make the connection between properly fearing God's judgment and holiness (which leads to my guilt and anxiety), and God's grace and His mercy. As much as I know one (fear/holiness) is meant to lead us to Christ, through Whom we have grace and mercy, I never can seem to let it go. All I can ask for, and hope and pray for, is the ability to impress this truth on my heart. I feel so strongly the impulse, the voice inside, saying 'Let Go!'

'If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink.' (John 7:37b, ESV)

I want so much to drink, and be done with it. Father, please grant me the strength to do so. I haven't got it.