The Only Way from Here to There
Commentary
For most of my years in the ministry, I have invited the folks in whatever church I have been serving to participate in some year-long congregational study. We have embarked on a wide variety of studies through the years. And, of course, I have also offered many short-term studies along the way, as well. But I have always found it profitable to identify and offer some year-long focus for the church family.
Well, inasmuch as it is a year-long study, we always begin during the first week of January. And, in the spirit of fresh starts and New Year’s resolutions, a lot of folks sign up and join in the group endeavor. We always get off to a great, enthusiastic start.
That’s January. But what about February? What about May? What about October?
You can imagine the trend line. It’s not a steady decline throughout the year, but there is always a significant attrition rate. There are always more people who are eager and enthusiastic at the beginning of the year than there are folks who stay committed throughout the year.
“Committed throughout the year.” That’s the key to a year-long study, of course. The enthusiasm of January 1 won’t get it done. Something more substantive is needed.
When I am walking through premarital counseling with a couple prior to officiating at their wedding, I try to probe their sense and understanding of commitment. Most of the reasons people get married, you see, don’t prove to be good enough reasons to stay married. Compatibility, attraction, feeling in love, and such are all major factors in prompting us to want to marry this individual, but as the decades pass we discover that those things tend to wax and wane. The reasons people get married don’t always prove to be good enough reasons to stay married. They will need commitment in order to stay married.
I remember being part of an interview team some years ago when our church was looking to hire a new staff member. One of the members of our team asked a candidate, “How do you define ‘commitment’?” And the candidate replied, “Commitment is being completely devoted to whatever it is that you are passionate about.”
It was not an unreasonable answer, but I knew in that moment that I didn’t want to hire that particular applicant. His paradigm, you see, flowed in the opposite direction from my own. For my desire for my church and its leadership is not that they would be devoted to whatever they are passionate about, but that they would be passionate about whatever they are devoted to.
Except for exceedingly rare individuals, things like excitement, enthusiasm, and passion don’t last. They are typically not sustainable over the long haul. And so, if you want something accomplished over the long haul, you’ll need something steadier and more durable. Long-haul success requires attributes like commitment, tenacity, and perseverance.
This is the spirit of Jesus’ word to his disciples and Paul’s word to his mentee. Those who would serve the Lord effectively will need to run and not faint, to walk and not grow weary. They cannot be like the plants that spring up quickly, only to die off just as quickly. And so, we turn this week to the biblical encouragement to persevere and not give up.
Jeremiah 31:27-34, Psalm 119:97-104
Before we read the selected passage from Jeremiah to our people this week, we might do well to read them some other passages from that prophet first. Let them hear the paragraphs of harsh judgment. Let them hear some samples of bitter lament. Give them a taste of the pain that pervades so much of the book of the prophet Jeremiah: God’s pain, the prophet’s pain, and the people’s pain. For it is only against that grim backdrop that we will be able to see clearly and fully the beauty of this excerpt from Jeremiah 31.
Jeremiah is famously remembered as “the weeping prophet.” His name has even morphed into a heavy-hearted noun: jeremiad. And so, our selected passage, when excerpted from its larger context, might leave our people with an inaccurate impression.
These verses from Jeremiah, you see, are full of good news. They paint a picture of restoration and beauty. And we will appreciate them more if we perceive the contrast. For so much of Jeremiah’s message paints a dramatically different picture.
Perhaps we might call to mind the sorts of images we have all seen during news broadcasts. The look of a neighborhood that has been flattened by a tornado. The carnage and brokenness of a community that has been at the center of destructive rioting. The ruins of a city that had been part of a war zone. Let our thinking be saturated with those sorts of images, and then — in the midst of that devastation — let us imagine a strong voice coming along and speaking these hopeful words from God: “The neighborhoods will all be rebuilt! The homes and buildings and shops will be restored! The lawns will be green, the streets will be safe, and the places will be populated by happiness!”
Jeremiah’s message in chapter 31, you see, is a message of stark contrast. Stark and beautiful contrast.
The contrast is not merely circumstantial, however. The underlying issue is not simply one of comfort replacing calamity. No, the contrast is a glimpse into the heart of God. For the lovely picture the prophet is called upon to paint is a proof that judgment was never going to be the last word with God. The destruction that Jeremiah warned of was not because the Lord wanted to put a permanent end to his people. The fact is, after all, that he could have crumpled up and tossed away the entire creation when Adam and Eve sinned, if he had been so inclined. But he is not so inclined. Rather, he seeks to purge and redeem, to cleanse and restore. And so, the excerpt from Jeremiah 31 is not a happy add-on or a mere silver lining. No, it is a reflection of God’s heart and his perfect purpose all along.
A closer look at the details of the passage reveals the broad and beautiful content of his will and purpose. We sense, first, images of fertility. This should not be confused with the sometimes crass preoccupation with fecundity that sometimes characterized ancient religious rituals. Rather, from the creation story on, we see Israel’s understanding of the Creator God who designed his creation to function in a certain way; and from plants to trees to animals to humans, that way was marked by vitality and abundance. This was no static creation, and this was no stingy Creator.
Additionally, we see in this Jeremiah 31 excerpt images of building and growth. The dramatic reversal of fortunes from the context of Jeremiah’s judgment warnings is reminiscent of Isaac Watts’ vision of the grand reversal that will characterize the coming of the kingdom of God. “He comes to make his blessings flow,” Watts sings, “far as the curse is found.”1
But then the vision surpasses such material things. The real bulk and beauty of the passage anticipate and promise a different sort of relationship between God and his people. And this, it seems, goes beyond mere restoration. Rather, this is an improvement. This is the prospect of things being even better than they were before: qualitatively different and substantively better. This is the stuff of the new covenant — a grand promise, which we will explore in greater detail below.
When it’s all said and done, then, the loveliness of these verses from Jeremiah cannot be overstated. Against the otherwise harsh landscape of judgment, these verses bloom with every manner of goodness. It is God’s promised future. As such, it is a peek into his heart and perfect will. And it serves as good news for every generation, beginning with the tragically beleaguered generation of the prophet Jeremiah.
2 Timothy 3:14--4:5
The New Testament Greek word “meno” carried a very ordinary image and meaning. When Jesus instructed his disciples to remain in a certain house while on a mission in a given town, the Greek word “meno” was employed to convey the idea of remaining (Mark 6:10). When he suggested that Sodom might not have been destroyed but could have remained to that day (Matthew 11:23), “meno” is the word to suggest Sodom continuing on. When Luke reports that Mary stayed with Elizabeth for about three months (Luke 1:56), “meno” is the verb he uses.
It is such ordinary uses, then, that lend a real beauty and profundity to Paul’s use of the word when writing to Timothy. The apostle instructs his spiritual son to “continue in the things you have learned.” The Greek verb “meno” is the word Paul uses, which we translate here “continue.” The things that Timothy has been taught, you see, are like a place that he should unpack and settle in. He is not just passing by or through these teachings. He is staying put and making himself at home there.
While we don’t know much about Timothy’s biography, Paul indicates here that Timothy was taught the things of God from a young age. He did not come to faith only when he crossed paths with Paul. Rather, it seems that he was the product of believing women (see Acts 16:1, 2 Timothy 1:5), and evidently, they raised him with a knowledge of the scriptures.
Interestingly, those “sacred writings” — which must be a reference to what we call the Old Testament — are, according to Paul, “able to give you the wisdom that leads to salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.” Too many contemporary American Christians carry around a sloppy impression that the Old Testament is somehow unrelated to — perhaps even antithetical to — the New Testament. For Paul to say that those very scriptures were sufficient to lay the groundwork for faith in Christ, by contrast, is to affirm the divine continuity between the testaments.
Ironically, anyone with a knowledge of the New Testament should be well-acquainted with that continuity. Matthew makes a great deal, for example, of the promises and prophecies of the Old Testament being fulfilled. The writer of Hebrews finds the person and work of Christ in the old covenant’s tabernacle and rituals. And the apostles went out preaching the gospel in the synagogues from the texts of the Old Testament.
Then Paul goes on to make succinct and compelling statements about the nature of Holy Scripture. He says that it is “inspired by God.” That speaks to its source, and source — as we know from currency, art, official documents, emails, food, and all sorts of other areas of life — source is the key to both a thing’s validity and its value. The thing that comes from the correct source is authentic, and therefore has genuine worth. The thing that does not come from the proper source, however, is a knock-off or a forgery; and while it may be deceptively similar to the real article, it is in reality worthless.
Because scripture comes from God, Paul says that it is useful. I suspect that is not the first word that comes to many parishioners’ minds when thinking of the Bible. They want it to be something else — inspiring, comforting, encouraging, affirming — but “useful” might come pretty far down the list, if at all. Perhaps if folks embraced the purpose of scripture as useful, they might position themselves to get more use out of it.
The image of usefulness is reinforced by the suggested end result: namely, that the person of God would be “equipped for every good work.” That’s a highly practical sense of purpose. And it may be that, in the next breath, Paul is urging Timothy to undertake some of that good work.
Preach, correct, rebuke, exhort: these are the sacred tasks assigned to Timothy. And when we set side by side the usefulness of the scripture with Timothy’s tasks, it’s clear how the former equips for the latter. And as Paul continues his encouragement, we discover the spiritual need for Timothy’s calling. “The time will come,” warns the apostle, “when they will not tolerate sound doctrine; but wanting to have their ears tickled, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance with their own desires, and they will turn their ears away from the truth and will turn aside to myths.” Over against those forces and influences of deception, then, it is essential for the servant of God to be a strong, stubborn, and insistent vessel of his word of truth.
Luke 18:1-8
Even if our passage was cut off after only one verse, that would be enough. We will give consideration here to the parable that Jesus told. But even if it had not been recorded, it is sufficient that we should know this much: that Jesus told his followers a story “to show that at all times they ought to pray and not become discouraged.” We receive in that single verse, you see, both strong instruction and sweet encouragement.
The strong instruction is that we should pray at all times. How easy it is for my prayer life to track with my moods and my feelings. And inasmuch as my feelings are fickle things, my prayer life risks becoming a roller coaster, as well. One day I am energetic and hopeful, while the next — for no apparent reason — I am weary and easily defeated. Yet my Lord bids me to pray at all times, and that develops a versatility of prayer that does my souls good. Our best friends, after all, are likely people with whom we feel we can talk in any mood or circumstance. How much more, then, the Lord himself?!
The sweet encouragement, meanwhile, is that we should not become discouraged. There is something gentle and lovely, you see, to know that the Lord needed to help the original disciples themselves not to become discouraged in their praying. We see them portrayed in statues and stained glass, we read of their miracles, their courageous discipleship, and their martyrdoms, and we are tempted to suspect that they were made of finer stuff than we are. We subconsciously imagine that they were free of the doubts and above the discouragements that plague our spirits and our prayers.
In addition to this evidence of the apostles’ familiar humanness, it is encouraging, too, to see what Jesus’ response is to that humanness. He does not scold or berate them for sometimes growing discouraged. No, he tells them a story: a story that encourages their faithful perseverance.
The parable that follows is not typically a fan favorite. It does not touch the heart like the story of the prodigal son. It does not have the familiar elegance of the Good Samaritan. It lacks the pastoral simplicity of the Good Shepherd compassionately seeking and rescuing the lost sheep. No, this parable features two human characters, and we aren’t sure that we like either one very much.
The leading man is callous, indifferent, self-serving, and unjust. And while he does the right thing in the end, there is nothing heroic or admirable about him. The leading lady, meanwhile, is the exemplar in the story, yet one senses that she was an annoying individual. Think of the person whose name on the caller ID or in your inbox makes you shake your head in aggravation. Them again? Why don’t they get a clue and just leave me alone?
But Jesus pairs these two unlikeable characters in order to encourage his followers. The woman, while patently annoying, is a model of perseverance. She has a complaint, a need, a case, and she won’t let it go. She won’t take no for an answer. She won’t take silence for an answer. Instead, she pesters and knocks and nags until, finally, the unjust judge gives her what she has been seeking.
The story is an altogether believable one. No element in the tale stretches the imagination. And so, the happy outcome in the end seems entirely plausible to us.
The point, then, that Jesus so skillfully makes is that perseverance in asking will get a person what they ought to receive even if the source is of dubious character. With how much more hopeful confidence, then, should we persevere in prayer, knowing that our petitions are brought to one who is not only just, but loving and compassionate.
At some level, it is enough for me simply to know that Jesus told a story for the expressed purpose of encouraginh followers to keep praying and not to give up. But knowing the story is a further aid. For now, I know that what the world might scold and tire of as annoying is celebrated by the Lord as obedient perseverance and pleasing faith.
Application
Giving up is what stands between the resolution and the achievement. Giving up is what makes for unsuccessful diets, incomplete projects, and unfinished business. And giving up is what may also keep us from answered prayers and impactful ministries.
As we explored above, Jesus offered his disciples a challenging and encouraging word about prayer. He told them a story that featured a protagonist whom we might regard as nagging and even obnoxious. Yet she is Jesus’ heroine and our role model, for she doesn’t give up. And that, Jesus tells his followers, is how we are meant to pray.
Perhaps you’ve heard some of those terrifying stories from the frontier days in the Great Plains — stories about people who died in a blizzard, not many yards from their home or shelter, but unable to find it in the blinding snow. I wonder, likewise, if some of our prayers die within shouting distance of being answered, but only because we give up before we receive what we sought. The intrepid personality, we know, refuses to take “No” for an answer. And for most of us, “No” isn’t even the problem: we just haven’t received any answer at all yet. But Jesus teaches us to persevere in the face of silence and discouragement and frustration.
The Apostle Paul, likewise, urged Timothy to persevere in his work for the Lord. “Continue in the things that you have learned,” Paul wrote. Be ready to do the work of your calling both “in season and out of season.” And do that work “with great patience.”
If we attempt to serve the Lord in bursts of enthusiasm only, our service will likely wax and wane. And that’s not the way that big and lasting things get done. A small paper can be written during an all-nighter, but not a dissertation.
Jericho’s walls didn’t fall after only one trip around the perimeter on the first day. Pharaoh didn’t let the people go in response to the very first plague. Jesus didn’t send his followers out to make disciples of all nations the day after he called them by the shores of Galilee. The work of God takes persistence: what Eugene Peterson insightfully called “a long obedience in the same direction.”
We live in a hurried culture. All our food is microwavable. We want faster and faster processors and networks. And we assume next-day delivery. All of this speed and immediacy may be convenient, but it may also cultivate within us an impatience that militates against spiritual maturity and spiritual achievement. There is no shortcut for the great things of God, you see: the only way to get from here to there is perseverance.
Alternative Application(s)
2 Timothy 3:14--4:5 — “For the Love of Myth”
The modern mind disdains myths. Myths are dismissed as the stuff of primitive and superstitious minds. Myths are out of place in a scientific age.
Shall we assume, therefore, that our generation is safe from the condition that the Apostle Paul warns about in our selected verses from 2 Timothy? He predicts a day when people will turn away from truth and sound doctrine, preferring instead to “turn aside to myths.” But that can’t happen to us, we reckon, for we are intellectually immunized against such unsophisticated thinking.
I wonder.
Paul anticipates a day when people will want “to have their ears tickled.” It’s an effective image. Having our ears tickled suggests that the things we hear are things that make us smile, that make us happy. And that, we must concede, has become almost a requirement in our present culture. It is increasingly regarded as an offense of the first to say anything that might upset someone. Indeed, even expressing a contrary opinion is cast as triggering or even threatening.
Paul also warns that “they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance with their own desires.” This may not be what we think we’re doing — or what we think our culture is doing — but the evidence is unmistakable. During the height of the pandemic, I remember joking to a friend that I could tell which news outlet different members of my church were listening to just based on how they were responding to Covid. For we choose our news and information sources now the same way that we used to choose music stations on our radios: namely, we listen to the stuff that we like and that makes us feel good. Whether it is cable news, talk radio, YouTube channels, or Twitter accounts, we have most certainly accumulated for ourselves teachers that accord with our desires.
“Desires,” meanwhile, is a particularly salient point. I remember hearing a preacher years ago say that in every heresy there is an element of selfishness. That is to say, we believe something that isn’t true because we want to believe it, because it is in some way self-serving to believe it. That is a perennial problem, and it might serve as a helpful diagnostic in our day to help us distinguish what is true from what is, shall we say, convenient.
Finally, Paul provocatively says that the result of this trend will be a turning away from truth and a turning aside to myths. Now if by myths we mean a belief in things like mermaids and dragons and never-never-land, then I suppose we are mostly innocent of the charge. But what if myths are more subtle and pernicious than that?
Old Testament scholar John Oswalt has critically evaluated the myths of the ancient Near East in contrast to the writings we find in the Bible. He argues that myth is not a product of primitive thinking but a product of worldview. Specifically, it is a closed-system worldview that excludes the possibility of a transcendent God. He writes, “If mythical thinking is not to be explained by primitive mentality or by limited information, is there a third possibility? Yes, there is, and that possibility is choice. People have chosen to think about the world and reality in these ways. Nor can they be blamed for having done so. If one begins with the premise that everything that is, is contained within this psycho-socio-physical cosmos...then certain results will necessarily follow. This is especially true if one concludes that an exclusively materialist explanation of things is not able to account for all the data.”2
Perhaps, then, our present culture is returning to an affection for myths and mythical thinking. Not incredible fables, per se, but a worldview that assumes a closed-system and excludes the transcendent God. If so, then the prediction of the apostle is complete, and we are rightful recipients of his calling to “preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; correct, rebuke, and exhort, with great patience and instruction.”
1 Isaac Watts, “Joy to the World,” UMH #246.
2 John N. Oswalt, The Bible among the Myths: Unique Revelation or Just Ancient Literature? (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2009), 186–187
Well, inasmuch as it is a year-long study, we always begin during the first week of January. And, in the spirit of fresh starts and New Year’s resolutions, a lot of folks sign up and join in the group endeavor. We always get off to a great, enthusiastic start.
That’s January. But what about February? What about May? What about October?
You can imagine the trend line. It’s not a steady decline throughout the year, but there is always a significant attrition rate. There are always more people who are eager and enthusiastic at the beginning of the year than there are folks who stay committed throughout the year.
“Committed throughout the year.” That’s the key to a year-long study, of course. The enthusiasm of January 1 won’t get it done. Something more substantive is needed.
When I am walking through premarital counseling with a couple prior to officiating at their wedding, I try to probe their sense and understanding of commitment. Most of the reasons people get married, you see, don’t prove to be good enough reasons to stay married. Compatibility, attraction, feeling in love, and such are all major factors in prompting us to want to marry this individual, but as the decades pass we discover that those things tend to wax and wane. The reasons people get married don’t always prove to be good enough reasons to stay married. They will need commitment in order to stay married.
I remember being part of an interview team some years ago when our church was looking to hire a new staff member. One of the members of our team asked a candidate, “How do you define ‘commitment’?” And the candidate replied, “Commitment is being completely devoted to whatever it is that you are passionate about.”
It was not an unreasonable answer, but I knew in that moment that I didn’t want to hire that particular applicant. His paradigm, you see, flowed in the opposite direction from my own. For my desire for my church and its leadership is not that they would be devoted to whatever they are passionate about, but that they would be passionate about whatever they are devoted to.
Except for exceedingly rare individuals, things like excitement, enthusiasm, and passion don’t last. They are typically not sustainable over the long haul. And so, if you want something accomplished over the long haul, you’ll need something steadier and more durable. Long-haul success requires attributes like commitment, tenacity, and perseverance.
This is the spirit of Jesus’ word to his disciples and Paul’s word to his mentee. Those who would serve the Lord effectively will need to run and not faint, to walk and not grow weary. They cannot be like the plants that spring up quickly, only to die off just as quickly. And so, we turn this week to the biblical encouragement to persevere and not give up.
Jeremiah 31:27-34, Psalm 119:97-104
Before we read the selected passage from Jeremiah to our people this week, we might do well to read them some other passages from that prophet first. Let them hear the paragraphs of harsh judgment. Let them hear some samples of bitter lament. Give them a taste of the pain that pervades so much of the book of the prophet Jeremiah: God’s pain, the prophet’s pain, and the people’s pain. For it is only against that grim backdrop that we will be able to see clearly and fully the beauty of this excerpt from Jeremiah 31.
Jeremiah is famously remembered as “the weeping prophet.” His name has even morphed into a heavy-hearted noun: jeremiad. And so, our selected passage, when excerpted from its larger context, might leave our people with an inaccurate impression.
These verses from Jeremiah, you see, are full of good news. They paint a picture of restoration and beauty. And we will appreciate them more if we perceive the contrast. For so much of Jeremiah’s message paints a dramatically different picture.
Perhaps we might call to mind the sorts of images we have all seen during news broadcasts. The look of a neighborhood that has been flattened by a tornado. The carnage and brokenness of a community that has been at the center of destructive rioting. The ruins of a city that had been part of a war zone. Let our thinking be saturated with those sorts of images, and then — in the midst of that devastation — let us imagine a strong voice coming along and speaking these hopeful words from God: “The neighborhoods will all be rebuilt! The homes and buildings and shops will be restored! The lawns will be green, the streets will be safe, and the places will be populated by happiness!”
Jeremiah’s message in chapter 31, you see, is a message of stark contrast. Stark and beautiful contrast.
The contrast is not merely circumstantial, however. The underlying issue is not simply one of comfort replacing calamity. No, the contrast is a glimpse into the heart of God. For the lovely picture the prophet is called upon to paint is a proof that judgment was never going to be the last word with God. The destruction that Jeremiah warned of was not because the Lord wanted to put a permanent end to his people. The fact is, after all, that he could have crumpled up and tossed away the entire creation when Adam and Eve sinned, if he had been so inclined. But he is not so inclined. Rather, he seeks to purge and redeem, to cleanse and restore. And so, the excerpt from Jeremiah 31 is not a happy add-on or a mere silver lining. No, it is a reflection of God’s heart and his perfect purpose all along.
A closer look at the details of the passage reveals the broad and beautiful content of his will and purpose. We sense, first, images of fertility. This should not be confused with the sometimes crass preoccupation with fecundity that sometimes characterized ancient religious rituals. Rather, from the creation story on, we see Israel’s understanding of the Creator God who designed his creation to function in a certain way; and from plants to trees to animals to humans, that way was marked by vitality and abundance. This was no static creation, and this was no stingy Creator.
Additionally, we see in this Jeremiah 31 excerpt images of building and growth. The dramatic reversal of fortunes from the context of Jeremiah’s judgment warnings is reminiscent of Isaac Watts’ vision of the grand reversal that will characterize the coming of the kingdom of God. “He comes to make his blessings flow,” Watts sings, “far as the curse is found.”1
But then the vision surpasses such material things. The real bulk and beauty of the passage anticipate and promise a different sort of relationship between God and his people. And this, it seems, goes beyond mere restoration. Rather, this is an improvement. This is the prospect of things being even better than they were before: qualitatively different and substantively better. This is the stuff of the new covenant — a grand promise, which we will explore in greater detail below.
When it’s all said and done, then, the loveliness of these verses from Jeremiah cannot be overstated. Against the otherwise harsh landscape of judgment, these verses bloom with every manner of goodness. It is God’s promised future. As such, it is a peek into his heart and perfect will. And it serves as good news for every generation, beginning with the tragically beleaguered generation of the prophet Jeremiah.
2 Timothy 3:14--4:5
The New Testament Greek word “meno” carried a very ordinary image and meaning. When Jesus instructed his disciples to remain in a certain house while on a mission in a given town, the Greek word “meno” was employed to convey the idea of remaining (Mark 6:10). When he suggested that Sodom might not have been destroyed but could have remained to that day (Matthew 11:23), “meno” is the word to suggest Sodom continuing on. When Luke reports that Mary stayed with Elizabeth for about three months (Luke 1:56), “meno” is the verb he uses.
It is such ordinary uses, then, that lend a real beauty and profundity to Paul’s use of the word when writing to Timothy. The apostle instructs his spiritual son to “continue in the things you have learned.” The Greek verb “meno” is the word Paul uses, which we translate here “continue.” The things that Timothy has been taught, you see, are like a place that he should unpack and settle in. He is not just passing by or through these teachings. He is staying put and making himself at home there.
While we don’t know much about Timothy’s biography, Paul indicates here that Timothy was taught the things of God from a young age. He did not come to faith only when he crossed paths with Paul. Rather, it seems that he was the product of believing women (see Acts 16:1, 2 Timothy 1:5), and evidently, they raised him with a knowledge of the scriptures.
Interestingly, those “sacred writings” — which must be a reference to what we call the Old Testament — are, according to Paul, “able to give you the wisdom that leads to salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.” Too many contemporary American Christians carry around a sloppy impression that the Old Testament is somehow unrelated to — perhaps even antithetical to — the New Testament. For Paul to say that those very scriptures were sufficient to lay the groundwork for faith in Christ, by contrast, is to affirm the divine continuity between the testaments.
Ironically, anyone with a knowledge of the New Testament should be well-acquainted with that continuity. Matthew makes a great deal, for example, of the promises and prophecies of the Old Testament being fulfilled. The writer of Hebrews finds the person and work of Christ in the old covenant’s tabernacle and rituals. And the apostles went out preaching the gospel in the synagogues from the texts of the Old Testament.
Then Paul goes on to make succinct and compelling statements about the nature of Holy Scripture. He says that it is “inspired by God.” That speaks to its source, and source — as we know from currency, art, official documents, emails, food, and all sorts of other areas of life — source is the key to both a thing’s validity and its value. The thing that comes from the correct source is authentic, and therefore has genuine worth. The thing that does not come from the proper source, however, is a knock-off or a forgery; and while it may be deceptively similar to the real article, it is in reality worthless.
Because scripture comes from God, Paul says that it is useful. I suspect that is not the first word that comes to many parishioners’ minds when thinking of the Bible. They want it to be something else — inspiring, comforting, encouraging, affirming — but “useful” might come pretty far down the list, if at all. Perhaps if folks embraced the purpose of scripture as useful, they might position themselves to get more use out of it.
The image of usefulness is reinforced by the suggested end result: namely, that the person of God would be “equipped for every good work.” That’s a highly practical sense of purpose. And it may be that, in the next breath, Paul is urging Timothy to undertake some of that good work.
Preach, correct, rebuke, exhort: these are the sacred tasks assigned to Timothy. And when we set side by side the usefulness of the scripture with Timothy’s tasks, it’s clear how the former equips for the latter. And as Paul continues his encouragement, we discover the spiritual need for Timothy’s calling. “The time will come,” warns the apostle, “when they will not tolerate sound doctrine; but wanting to have their ears tickled, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance with their own desires, and they will turn their ears away from the truth and will turn aside to myths.” Over against those forces and influences of deception, then, it is essential for the servant of God to be a strong, stubborn, and insistent vessel of his word of truth.
Luke 18:1-8
Even if our passage was cut off after only one verse, that would be enough. We will give consideration here to the parable that Jesus told. But even if it had not been recorded, it is sufficient that we should know this much: that Jesus told his followers a story “to show that at all times they ought to pray and not become discouraged.” We receive in that single verse, you see, both strong instruction and sweet encouragement.
The strong instruction is that we should pray at all times. How easy it is for my prayer life to track with my moods and my feelings. And inasmuch as my feelings are fickle things, my prayer life risks becoming a roller coaster, as well. One day I am energetic and hopeful, while the next — for no apparent reason — I am weary and easily defeated. Yet my Lord bids me to pray at all times, and that develops a versatility of prayer that does my souls good. Our best friends, after all, are likely people with whom we feel we can talk in any mood or circumstance. How much more, then, the Lord himself?!
The sweet encouragement, meanwhile, is that we should not become discouraged. There is something gentle and lovely, you see, to know that the Lord needed to help the original disciples themselves not to become discouraged in their praying. We see them portrayed in statues and stained glass, we read of their miracles, their courageous discipleship, and their martyrdoms, and we are tempted to suspect that they were made of finer stuff than we are. We subconsciously imagine that they were free of the doubts and above the discouragements that plague our spirits and our prayers.
In addition to this evidence of the apostles’ familiar humanness, it is encouraging, too, to see what Jesus’ response is to that humanness. He does not scold or berate them for sometimes growing discouraged. No, he tells them a story: a story that encourages their faithful perseverance.
The parable that follows is not typically a fan favorite. It does not touch the heart like the story of the prodigal son. It does not have the familiar elegance of the Good Samaritan. It lacks the pastoral simplicity of the Good Shepherd compassionately seeking and rescuing the lost sheep. No, this parable features two human characters, and we aren’t sure that we like either one very much.
The leading man is callous, indifferent, self-serving, and unjust. And while he does the right thing in the end, there is nothing heroic or admirable about him. The leading lady, meanwhile, is the exemplar in the story, yet one senses that she was an annoying individual. Think of the person whose name on the caller ID or in your inbox makes you shake your head in aggravation. Them again? Why don’t they get a clue and just leave me alone?
But Jesus pairs these two unlikeable characters in order to encourage his followers. The woman, while patently annoying, is a model of perseverance. She has a complaint, a need, a case, and she won’t let it go. She won’t take no for an answer. She won’t take silence for an answer. Instead, she pesters and knocks and nags until, finally, the unjust judge gives her what she has been seeking.
The story is an altogether believable one. No element in the tale stretches the imagination. And so, the happy outcome in the end seems entirely plausible to us.
The point, then, that Jesus so skillfully makes is that perseverance in asking will get a person what they ought to receive even if the source is of dubious character. With how much more hopeful confidence, then, should we persevere in prayer, knowing that our petitions are brought to one who is not only just, but loving and compassionate.
At some level, it is enough for me simply to know that Jesus told a story for the expressed purpose of encouraginh followers to keep praying and not to give up. But knowing the story is a further aid. For now, I know that what the world might scold and tire of as annoying is celebrated by the Lord as obedient perseverance and pleasing faith.
Application
Giving up is what stands between the resolution and the achievement. Giving up is what makes for unsuccessful diets, incomplete projects, and unfinished business. And giving up is what may also keep us from answered prayers and impactful ministries.
As we explored above, Jesus offered his disciples a challenging and encouraging word about prayer. He told them a story that featured a protagonist whom we might regard as nagging and even obnoxious. Yet she is Jesus’ heroine and our role model, for she doesn’t give up. And that, Jesus tells his followers, is how we are meant to pray.
Perhaps you’ve heard some of those terrifying stories from the frontier days in the Great Plains — stories about people who died in a blizzard, not many yards from their home or shelter, but unable to find it in the blinding snow. I wonder, likewise, if some of our prayers die within shouting distance of being answered, but only because we give up before we receive what we sought. The intrepid personality, we know, refuses to take “No” for an answer. And for most of us, “No” isn’t even the problem: we just haven’t received any answer at all yet. But Jesus teaches us to persevere in the face of silence and discouragement and frustration.
The Apostle Paul, likewise, urged Timothy to persevere in his work for the Lord. “Continue in the things that you have learned,” Paul wrote. Be ready to do the work of your calling both “in season and out of season.” And do that work “with great patience.”
If we attempt to serve the Lord in bursts of enthusiasm only, our service will likely wax and wane. And that’s not the way that big and lasting things get done. A small paper can be written during an all-nighter, but not a dissertation.
Jericho’s walls didn’t fall after only one trip around the perimeter on the first day. Pharaoh didn’t let the people go in response to the very first plague. Jesus didn’t send his followers out to make disciples of all nations the day after he called them by the shores of Galilee. The work of God takes persistence: what Eugene Peterson insightfully called “a long obedience in the same direction.”
We live in a hurried culture. All our food is microwavable. We want faster and faster processors and networks. And we assume next-day delivery. All of this speed and immediacy may be convenient, but it may also cultivate within us an impatience that militates against spiritual maturity and spiritual achievement. There is no shortcut for the great things of God, you see: the only way to get from here to there is perseverance.
Alternative Application(s)
2 Timothy 3:14--4:5 — “For the Love of Myth”
The modern mind disdains myths. Myths are dismissed as the stuff of primitive and superstitious minds. Myths are out of place in a scientific age.
Shall we assume, therefore, that our generation is safe from the condition that the Apostle Paul warns about in our selected verses from 2 Timothy? He predicts a day when people will turn away from truth and sound doctrine, preferring instead to “turn aside to myths.” But that can’t happen to us, we reckon, for we are intellectually immunized against such unsophisticated thinking.
I wonder.
Paul anticipates a day when people will want “to have their ears tickled.” It’s an effective image. Having our ears tickled suggests that the things we hear are things that make us smile, that make us happy. And that, we must concede, has become almost a requirement in our present culture. It is increasingly regarded as an offense of the first to say anything that might upset someone. Indeed, even expressing a contrary opinion is cast as triggering or even threatening.
Paul also warns that “they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance with their own desires.” This may not be what we think we’re doing — or what we think our culture is doing — but the evidence is unmistakable. During the height of the pandemic, I remember joking to a friend that I could tell which news outlet different members of my church were listening to just based on how they were responding to Covid. For we choose our news and information sources now the same way that we used to choose music stations on our radios: namely, we listen to the stuff that we like and that makes us feel good. Whether it is cable news, talk radio, YouTube channels, or Twitter accounts, we have most certainly accumulated for ourselves teachers that accord with our desires.
“Desires,” meanwhile, is a particularly salient point. I remember hearing a preacher years ago say that in every heresy there is an element of selfishness. That is to say, we believe something that isn’t true because we want to believe it, because it is in some way self-serving to believe it. That is a perennial problem, and it might serve as a helpful diagnostic in our day to help us distinguish what is true from what is, shall we say, convenient.
Finally, Paul provocatively says that the result of this trend will be a turning away from truth and a turning aside to myths. Now if by myths we mean a belief in things like mermaids and dragons and never-never-land, then I suppose we are mostly innocent of the charge. But what if myths are more subtle and pernicious than that?
Old Testament scholar John Oswalt has critically evaluated the myths of the ancient Near East in contrast to the writings we find in the Bible. He argues that myth is not a product of primitive thinking but a product of worldview. Specifically, it is a closed-system worldview that excludes the possibility of a transcendent God. He writes, “If mythical thinking is not to be explained by primitive mentality or by limited information, is there a third possibility? Yes, there is, and that possibility is choice. People have chosen to think about the world and reality in these ways. Nor can they be blamed for having done so. If one begins with the premise that everything that is, is contained within this psycho-socio-physical cosmos...then certain results will necessarily follow. This is especially true if one concludes that an exclusively materialist explanation of things is not able to account for all the data.”2
Perhaps, then, our present culture is returning to an affection for myths and mythical thinking. Not incredible fables, per se, but a worldview that assumes a closed-system and excludes the transcendent God. If so, then the prediction of the apostle is complete, and we are rightful recipients of his calling to “preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; correct, rebuke, and exhort, with great patience and instruction.”
1 Isaac Watts, “Joy to the World,” UMH #246.
2 John N. Oswalt, The Bible among the Myths: Unique Revelation or Just Ancient Literature? (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2009), 186–187
