The Spirit's Guidance
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“The Spirit’s Guidance” by David O. Bales
“I Tertius, The Writer Of This Letter (Romans 16:22)” by David O. Bales
The Spirit’s Guidance
by David O. Bales
John 16:12-15
Nola’s grandfather died in World War II, yet her world history class in high school had barely advanced to World War I before the end of the school year, as had her elementary school history class six years before. So Nola expected that her university’s History of Western Civilization class would finally inform her about World War II. It did.
The lecturer for “World War II: Precursors” was Dr. Freedman. His few sentences hit the lecture hall like a bomb. “‘Germany first! Make Germany great again!’ That was Hitler’s message, in his own rambling compound German words, of course. He didn’t hesitate to break treaties unilaterally and he laced his racism into constant communications through the newest propaganda medium, which at the time was radio. Over and over he and his henchmen repeated their outlandish lies, twisting every fact and advertising the Fuehrer’s supposed genius while they encouraged and appealed to the lowest nature of humans: greed and fear of ‘those non-Germans … the Jews.’
“Germany’s Christians went along with Hitler, not just the Protestants. The Roman Catholics didn’t do well either. All the Nazis had to do was to quote the Gospel According to Matthew where at Jesus’ trial in Jerusalem a handful of Jews said, ‘His blood be on us and on our children.’ If that wasn’t enough justification, the Nazis could pull out the Apostle Paul’s instructions to the church at Rome, ‘Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment.’ Besides, who dares disagree that your country is greatest? That was enough to spark and fuel the Second World War in Europe.”
Within these three minutes the lecture hall became alive with mumbles and whispers, then with grumbling and shouts. Dr. Freedman continued: “And…, and, to see what that kind of political leadership creates, tomorrow instead of your discussion groups, all Western Civ students will attend and tour the Holocaust Museum Traveling Exhibition. Buses will pick you up at the Student Union. Religious groups in the city are paying your transportation. Be outside the Student Union at ten tomorrow morning. Attendance will be taken by your discussion group leaders not only when boarding here but when you re-board at the Exhibition. This will make sure that, after you see what happened in Germany, you won’t be able to decide right there to flee the university and never learn factual history again. One function of a university is to teach you how to reason with genuine facts, not merely how to react to propaganda or to follow the newest Pied Piper. If you don’t know about the Pied Piper, look it up on Wikipedia. Even more radical, you could go to the library and find it in a book. Class is dismissed early. I strongly suggest you use this extra time to read your assigned chapter 17: ‘The Tragic Decade of Global Conflict.’” He repeated: “Tomorrow, ten AM at the Student Union. Your discussion group leader will take roll,” and left the lecture hall.
Nola stayed seated while students around her stood, some mumbling with smiles, some cursing. A few, as did Nola, remained silent. She assumed that what Dr. Freedman said about Hitler was correct; and by now students recognized his interposing over-the top, left-wing jabs about modern politics into any historical era he lectured upon. What struck her like a rifle stock smashing her foot was his assertion that German Christians were for Hitler. She’d never heard that. After a few deep breaths she jotted down the scriptures Dr. Freedman mentioned and walked straight to the chapel to find Chaplain Wendy. Her door was open.
Nola was glad that the two already had a relationship. She knew many students who said they were Christians but never joined a campus Christian group or even attended worship. The fact that dozens of her fellow World Civ students weren’t at this moment piling up outside the chaplain’s door confirmed Nola’s minority status. She sat and quickly told Wendy why she’d come, summarizing what Dr. Freedman said about the German Christians and the biblical reasons they obeyed Hitler. “Is that true?” she asked.
Wendy took a quick breath and curled her hair behind her ears. Nola had seen her do that just before she preached. “Freedman gave a similar lecture last year. This sounds a little more radical, as far as his allusions to contemporary politics. But what he said about the German Christians is true. The majority obeyed Hitler, no matter what they believed as they did so. Hitler even appointed the Protestant church’s bishop. The Nazis even hijacked Christian songs and plugged in Nazi ideology. Wasn’t a good time to be Christian.”
Nola’s face showed her pain. “Those Bible texts. Did the Bible really mean that?”
“In a slight degree,” Wendy said with a lower voice. “They meant something like that in the past for some people. Certainly not to everyone everywhere. Here’s the thing: there’s more in the Bible to think with than those two scriptures. And those texts aren’t necessarily to be taken as prediction or law. Lots of things in the Bible were meant for a past age or a definite place. We trust Jesus’ Spirit has led us beyond them. Anti-Semitism? What people don’t think about is that Jesus and Paul and all the first Christians were Jews.” She laughed and Nola, recognizing the irony of Christians hating Jews, began to laugh also. “Pretty dumb,” she said.
“Since biblical times,” Wendy continued, “the Spirit has led us to denounce slavery, which the Old Testament and New Testament supported. We don’t execute witches. We’ve abandoned racism as an artifact of ancient societies. We don’t believe in the subjection of women, which the entire ancient world held to. They’d never give women the vote, let alone allow them to be pastors. And except for a few remote primitive tribes, no one believes in the divine right of kings, which our ‘western civilization’ held to for quite a while.”
Nola leaned forward, “You said Dr. Freedman gave a lecture like this last year. Did he continue in the next lectures to say more. I mean, there must be more.”
“He did. The Holocaust Exhibition wasn’t here then so I don’t know what he’ll say this year, but I expect he’ll also mention Christian resistance to Hitler. Freedman’s a shocker, certainly gets your attention. My experience is that, if you demonstrate a genuine grasp of history and don’t just spout an opinion, he’ll listen to you. I’ve never had a problem with him.”
Nola gave an appreciatory smile.
Wendy said, “You want to read about the Christians in Germany who felt led by the Spirit to interpret those verses differently and defy Nazism?”
“A little, maybe. I’ve got a real load this semester.”
“I understand, believe me. But here,” she pulled a volume from the bookshelf behind her. “This is a biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. He’s become famous for having resisted Hitler and been executed by him. This deals with the whole movement of the Confessing Christians to the end of World War II. If you’re like me when I first learned of Bonhoeffer and found a biography of him, I couldn’t put it down. There you are right in the middle of Nazi Germany and it’s like reading a horror novel. Only it’s true.” She handed Nola the book. “Have it back in two weeks?”
“Absolutely,” Nola said and rose to leave.
“And tell me what Freedman lectures about in the days after you attend the Traveling Exhibition. I’ll want to know what you think of the whole experience. And Nola, the Spirit still leads us in new ways. Hold to that tomorrow, because you’re in for a jolt. I’ll be praying for you.”
Preaching point: Jesus’ Spirit guides Christians into further truth.
* * *
I Tertius, The Writer Of This Letter (Romans 16:22)
by David O. Bales
Romans 5:1-5
Tertius had never thought of comparing his former and present lives. They matched. And his future in first century Corinth would be the same. He’d always done as his parents instructed him and he had no reason to consider that life’s direction could be different. From his earliest days his parents had placed their hope in their third son, thus named ‘Tertius’ (‘Third’), their only child to survive infancy. When he began his schooling his mother said, “We’re putting our life on your shoulders.” They stretched their connections with neighbors and relatives to educate him. He learned reading, writing, and mathematics. His father told him many times, “We’re betting everything on you, Son.” Tertius did as he was told and didn’t question whether Corinthian life held alternatives for this son of freed Tigurinian slaves.
When Tertius began work as a scribe he didn’t know the various types of scribal work available. His father told him where to work, whom to work for, and exactly what the task was, whether his labor with reed and papyrus was to jot down the broken words of a dying man’s last-breath will or to spend days recording betrothal and marriage contracts. For a year he copied weekly decrees of the city’s magistrates. A mind-boggling month copying philosophical treatises taught him dozens of new words. When he completed one task, his father had his next job lined up. Tertius expected no other schedule.
For all its steady, if small, income and comforting predictability his profession wasn’t easy. Truth was, if anyone wanted to know, it was painful. He seldom worked in natural sunlight, so he spent most days bent and squinting in candle light until his hand, arm, back, and eyes nearly gave out. Until half a year ago this is what his life would always be and he never asked himself if he wanted to alter it. His life flipped upside down during a stint copying contracts for companies whose work supported Corinth’s every two year Isthmian Games. Tents were needed to accommodate the thousands of visitors. That’s when he met the pleasant couple: Aquila and Priscilla.
When he arrived at their tent, they introduced themselves and their partner Paul. The three looked him in the eye when they spoke, and granted him a degree of politeness only expected to Roman citizens. Aquila soon told him, “We don’t participate in any of the city’s cults, not even the Emperor’s.” This shocked as well as frightened Tertius. They used a word he’d heard only a couple times: “Christian.” Yet, within a week these kind and confident tradesmen convinced Tertius that the Christ they declared as their Lord was his also.
Christianity tossed Tertius’s life into chaos. When he held steadfastly to his new faith, his parents disowned him. As his mother shoved him from the house with a bundle of his clothes, she said, “We hoped you’d become secretary to a senator, and look what you’ve done to us.” At the same time his father quit as his manager. “Find your own jobs.” He almost spit the words.
His was adrift with only his scribal skill and his Christian friends. But Corinth’s other Christians, it seemed, were always arguing about spiritual gifts and what foods they could and couldn’t eat and the former Jews were disputing the necessity of niggling laws. Aquila and Priscilla found him a few jobs in their trades community and in their small religious group although most of his fellow believers were poorer than Tertius now was. But Paul soon won agreement that their assembly should hire him to take his dictation. Paul was always writing letters.
Now, everyday he was scraping Paul’s thought from the end of a reed onto papyrus, while having to learn and remember events that happened thousands of years before, far away, and whoever heard of an Aramaic or Hebrew language?
His new life was a constant struggle because everything was, well, new. Sometimes were even more difficult as Paul composed his theological treatise for the church at Rome. One day began with Paul stating, “Read back those last six paragraphs.” Those last paragraphs were yesterday’s entire work. Paul reeled off a sentence, stopped to change a word, then said, “Strike those paragraphs. Let’s clear our minds and start over.” It took little effort for Tertius to clear his mind. “The Old Covenant … the New Covenant … Abraham….” He could usually help when Paul asked, “How do you spell…?” He was less assistance when Paul requested, “What’s another way to say it?” He grabbed a fresh sheet of papyrus and poised to write, only to realize Paul was gazing out the window, holding his chin in his hand. Finally Paul asked, “How would you put it?”
Tertius was befuddled. At any time he didn’t know half of what Paul was talking about. Tertius hadn’t understood the Corinthian cults he’d grown up with, how was he to grasp both Judaism and Christianity at the same time? Not just grasp it, live it. Paul came back from the window, “Well?” Tertius didn’t answer, just put down his reed, planted his elbows on the table and rested his face in his hands. Paul said, “Am I mumbling again?” Tertius remained silent. “Jabbering too fast?” Tertius lifted his head to Paul with a despairing look. Paul studied him for a moment. “Not the dictating is it?”
Tertius had decided when he began transcribing for Paul that he shouldn’t distract him with his own problems. The apostle must be aided wholeheartedly in his important ministry. So he hadn’t mentioned his struggles in the faith. Now his frustrations tumbled out. “It’s everything. I’m lost. My soul’s dizzy. Everything’s spinning around me: Christians are my new family — in lots of ways no better than my old family. I’m supposed to think about everything in a strange way. I place this thought in that slot,” he moved his hands around in the air, “and another thought in another slot and I can’t force them into a square or a triangle — no recognizable form. They’re all floating and disconnected and I don’t think I’m really different than when I became a Christian.”
Paul pursed his lips slightly and nodded twice. He pulled a stool beside Tertius and sat. “The faith grows on you, Tertius. Christ grows in you. It’s not all at once. The only thing that’s all at once is what God has done in Christ: acquitting you of your sin and setting you right with God. That’s done, but it’s just the start, or I should say, the start over.”
Tertius made a humming sound, but didn’t meet Paul’s eyes.
“Nobody enters fully into the Christian life at once,” Paul said. “You can ask Silas or Timothy about the catastrophes new believers cause, claiming they’re now perfectly in the faith. My experience is that the Spirit’s work within us is a rolling over and rolling on. You’re in this with Christ and Christ is in you in the Spirit. You open yourself to how the Spirit works in you in your suffering” — he spun his arm around in a circle — “and the Spirit rolls over your suffering and mixes it into endurance and then the Spirit folds your endurance into character. The Spirit helps your character grow into hope. The Holy Spirit works that way, on and on. It’s God pouring love into our heart as surely as Christ poured out his blood on the cross.” He placed his hand on Tertius’s shoulder. “You don’t have to take an examination on the history of our Hebrew faith. For now, just trust Christ’s Holy Spirit within you, swirling around God’s creative love. That’s enough to keep you busy.”
He leaned back and so did Tertius. “We’ll leave off writing for the day,” Paul said, “And let’s pray about this. You clearly need more prayer than discussion.” Paul summoned Aquila and Priscilla and the four prayed for an hour until Tertius was certain he felt — even if he didn’t understand — the Holy Spirit’s pouring God’s love into his heart.
Preaching point: The Holy Spirit’s growing, loving influence within believers.
*****************************************
StoryShare, June 16, 2019, issue.
Copyright 2019 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
“The Spirit’s Guidance” by David O. Bales
“I Tertius, The Writer Of This Letter (Romans 16:22)” by David O. Bales
The Spirit’s Guidance
by David O. Bales
John 16:12-15
Nola’s grandfather died in World War II, yet her world history class in high school had barely advanced to World War I before the end of the school year, as had her elementary school history class six years before. So Nola expected that her university’s History of Western Civilization class would finally inform her about World War II. It did.
The lecturer for “World War II: Precursors” was Dr. Freedman. His few sentences hit the lecture hall like a bomb. “‘Germany first! Make Germany great again!’ That was Hitler’s message, in his own rambling compound German words, of course. He didn’t hesitate to break treaties unilaterally and he laced his racism into constant communications through the newest propaganda medium, which at the time was radio. Over and over he and his henchmen repeated their outlandish lies, twisting every fact and advertising the Fuehrer’s supposed genius while they encouraged and appealed to the lowest nature of humans: greed and fear of ‘those non-Germans … the Jews.’
“Germany’s Christians went along with Hitler, not just the Protestants. The Roman Catholics didn’t do well either. All the Nazis had to do was to quote the Gospel According to Matthew where at Jesus’ trial in Jerusalem a handful of Jews said, ‘His blood be on us and on our children.’ If that wasn’t enough justification, the Nazis could pull out the Apostle Paul’s instructions to the church at Rome, ‘Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment.’ Besides, who dares disagree that your country is greatest? That was enough to spark and fuel the Second World War in Europe.”
Within these three minutes the lecture hall became alive with mumbles and whispers, then with grumbling and shouts. Dr. Freedman continued: “And…, and, to see what that kind of political leadership creates, tomorrow instead of your discussion groups, all Western Civ students will attend and tour the Holocaust Museum Traveling Exhibition. Buses will pick you up at the Student Union. Religious groups in the city are paying your transportation. Be outside the Student Union at ten tomorrow morning. Attendance will be taken by your discussion group leaders not only when boarding here but when you re-board at the Exhibition. This will make sure that, after you see what happened in Germany, you won’t be able to decide right there to flee the university and never learn factual history again. One function of a university is to teach you how to reason with genuine facts, not merely how to react to propaganda or to follow the newest Pied Piper. If you don’t know about the Pied Piper, look it up on Wikipedia. Even more radical, you could go to the library and find it in a book. Class is dismissed early. I strongly suggest you use this extra time to read your assigned chapter 17: ‘The Tragic Decade of Global Conflict.’” He repeated: “Tomorrow, ten AM at the Student Union. Your discussion group leader will take roll,” and left the lecture hall.
Nola stayed seated while students around her stood, some mumbling with smiles, some cursing. A few, as did Nola, remained silent. She assumed that what Dr. Freedman said about Hitler was correct; and by now students recognized his interposing over-the top, left-wing jabs about modern politics into any historical era he lectured upon. What struck her like a rifle stock smashing her foot was his assertion that German Christians were for Hitler. She’d never heard that. After a few deep breaths she jotted down the scriptures Dr. Freedman mentioned and walked straight to the chapel to find Chaplain Wendy. Her door was open.
Nola was glad that the two already had a relationship. She knew many students who said they were Christians but never joined a campus Christian group or even attended worship. The fact that dozens of her fellow World Civ students weren’t at this moment piling up outside the chaplain’s door confirmed Nola’s minority status. She sat and quickly told Wendy why she’d come, summarizing what Dr. Freedman said about the German Christians and the biblical reasons they obeyed Hitler. “Is that true?” she asked.
Wendy took a quick breath and curled her hair behind her ears. Nola had seen her do that just before she preached. “Freedman gave a similar lecture last year. This sounds a little more radical, as far as his allusions to contemporary politics. But what he said about the German Christians is true. The majority obeyed Hitler, no matter what they believed as they did so. Hitler even appointed the Protestant church’s bishop. The Nazis even hijacked Christian songs and plugged in Nazi ideology. Wasn’t a good time to be Christian.”
Nola’s face showed her pain. “Those Bible texts. Did the Bible really mean that?”
“In a slight degree,” Wendy said with a lower voice. “They meant something like that in the past for some people. Certainly not to everyone everywhere. Here’s the thing: there’s more in the Bible to think with than those two scriptures. And those texts aren’t necessarily to be taken as prediction or law. Lots of things in the Bible were meant for a past age or a definite place. We trust Jesus’ Spirit has led us beyond them. Anti-Semitism? What people don’t think about is that Jesus and Paul and all the first Christians were Jews.” She laughed and Nola, recognizing the irony of Christians hating Jews, began to laugh also. “Pretty dumb,” she said.
“Since biblical times,” Wendy continued, “the Spirit has led us to denounce slavery, which the Old Testament and New Testament supported. We don’t execute witches. We’ve abandoned racism as an artifact of ancient societies. We don’t believe in the subjection of women, which the entire ancient world held to. They’d never give women the vote, let alone allow them to be pastors. And except for a few remote primitive tribes, no one believes in the divine right of kings, which our ‘western civilization’ held to for quite a while.”
Nola leaned forward, “You said Dr. Freedman gave a lecture like this last year. Did he continue in the next lectures to say more. I mean, there must be more.”
“He did. The Holocaust Exhibition wasn’t here then so I don’t know what he’ll say this year, but I expect he’ll also mention Christian resistance to Hitler. Freedman’s a shocker, certainly gets your attention. My experience is that, if you demonstrate a genuine grasp of history and don’t just spout an opinion, he’ll listen to you. I’ve never had a problem with him.”
Nola gave an appreciatory smile.
Wendy said, “You want to read about the Christians in Germany who felt led by the Spirit to interpret those verses differently and defy Nazism?”
“A little, maybe. I’ve got a real load this semester.”
“I understand, believe me. But here,” she pulled a volume from the bookshelf behind her. “This is a biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. He’s become famous for having resisted Hitler and been executed by him. This deals with the whole movement of the Confessing Christians to the end of World War II. If you’re like me when I first learned of Bonhoeffer and found a biography of him, I couldn’t put it down. There you are right in the middle of Nazi Germany and it’s like reading a horror novel. Only it’s true.” She handed Nola the book. “Have it back in two weeks?”
“Absolutely,” Nola said and rose to leave.
“And tell me what Freedman lectures about in the days after you attend the Traveling Exhibition. I’ll want to know what you think of the whole experience. And Nola, the Spirit still leads us in new ways. Hold to that tomorrow, because you’re in for a jolt. I’ll be praying for you.”
Preaching point: Jesus’ Spirit guides Christians into further truth.
* * *
I Tertius, The Writer Of This Letter (Romans 16:22)
by David O. Bales
Romans 5:1-5
Tertius had never thought of comparing his former and present lives. They matched. And his future in first century Corinth would be the same. He’d always done as his parents instructed him and he had no reason to consider that life’s direction could be different. From his earliest days his parents had placed their hope in their third son, thus named ‘Tertius’ (‘Third’), their only child to survive infancy. When he began his schooling his mother said, “We’re putting our life on your shoulders.” They stretched their connections with neighbors and relatives to educate him. He learned reading, writing, and mathematics. His father told him many times, “We’re betting everything on you, Son.” Tertius did as he was told and didn’t question whether Corinthian life held alternatives for this son of freed Tigurinian slaves.
When Tertius began work as a scribe he didn’t know the various types of scribal work available. His father told him where to work, whom to work for, and exactly what the task was, whether his labor with reed and papyrus was to jot down the broken words of a dying man’s last-breath will or to spend days recording betrothal and marriage contracts. For a year he copied weekly decrees of the city’s magistrates. A mind-boggling month copying philosophical treatises taught him dozens of new words. When he completed one task, his father had his next job lined up. Tertius expected no other schedule.
For all its steady, if small, income and comforting predictability his profession wasn’t easy. Truth was, if anyone wanted to know, it was painful. He seldom worked in natural sunlight, so he spent most days bent and squinting in candle light until his hand, arm, back, and eyes nearly gave out. Until half a year ago this is what his life would always be and he never asked himself if he wanted to alter it. His life flipped upside down during a stint copying contracts for companies whose work supported Corinth’s every two year Isthmian Games. Tents were needed to accommodate the thousands of visitors. That’s when he met the pleasant couple: Aquila and Priscilla.
When he arrived at their tent, they introduced themselves and their partner Paul. The three looked him in the eye when they spoke, and granted him a degree of politeness only expected to Roman citizens. Aquila soon told him, “We don’t participate in any of the city’s cults, not even the Emperor’s.” This shocked as well as frightened Tertius. They used a word he’d heard only a couple times: “Christian.” Yet, within a week these kind and confident tradesmen convinced Tertius that the Christ they declared as their Lord was his also.
Christianity tossed Tertius’s life into chaos. When he held steadfastly to his new faith, his parents disowned him. As his mother shoved him from the house with a bundle of his clothes, she said, “We hoped you’d become secretary to a senator, and look what you’ve done to us.” At the same time his father quit as his manager. “Find your own jobs.” He almost spit the words.
His was adrift with only his scribal skill and his Christian friends. But Corinth’s other Christians, it seemed, were always arguing about spiritual gifts and what foods they could and couldn’t eat and the former Jews were disputing the necessity of niggling laws. Aquila and Priscilla found him a few jobs in their trades community and in their small religious group although most of his fellow believers were poorer than Tertius now was. But Paul soon won agreement that their assembly should hire him to take his dictation. Paul was always writing letters.
Now, everyday he was scraping Paul’s thought from the end of a reed onto papyrus, while having to learn and remember events that happened thousands of years before, far away, and whoever heard of an Aramaic or Hebrew language?
His new life was a constant struggle because everything was, well, new. Sometimes were even more difficult as Paul composed his theological treatise for the church at Rome. One day began with Paul stating, “Read back those last six paragraphs.” Those last paragraphs were yesterday’s entire work. Paul reeled off a sentence, stopped to change a word, then said, “Strike those paragraphs. Let’s clear our minds and start over.” It took little effort for Tertius to clear his mind. “The Old Covenant … the New Covenant … Abraham….” He could usually help when Paul asked, “How do you spell…?” He was less assistance when Paul requested, “What’s another way to say it?” He grabbed a fresh sheet of papyrus and poised to write, only to realize Paul was gazing out the window, holding his chin in his hand. Finally Paul asked, “How would you put it?”
Tertius was befuddled. At any time he didn’t know half of what Paul was talking about. Tertius hadn’t understood the Corinthian cults he’d grown up with, how was he to grasp both Judaism and Christianity at the same time? Not just grasp it, live it. Paul came back from the window, “Well?” Tertius didn’t answer, just put down his reed, planted his elbows on the table and rested his face in his hands. Paul said, “Am I mumbling again?” Tertius remained silent. “Jabbering too fast?” Tertius lifted his head to Paul with a despairing look. Paul studied him for a moment. “Not the dictating is it?”
Tertius had decided when he began transcribing for Paul that he shouldn’t distract him with his own problems. The apostle must be aided wholeheartedly in his important ministry. So he hadn’t mentioned his struggles in the faith. Now his frustrations tumbled out. “It’s everything. I’m lost. My soul’s dizzy. Everything’s spinning around me: Christians are my new family — in lots of ways no better than my old family. I’m supposed to think about everything in a strange way. I place this thought in that slot,” he moved his hands around in the air, “and another thought in another slot and I can’t force them into a square or a triangle — no recognizable form. They’re all floating and disconnected and I don’t think I’m really different than when I became a Christian.”
Paul pursed his lips slightly and nodded twice. He pulled a stool beside Tertius and sat. “The faith grows on you, Tertius. Christ grows in you. It’s not all at once. The only thing that’s all at once is what God has done in Christ: acquitting you of your sin and setting you right with God. That’s done, but it’s just the start, or I should say, the start over.”
Tertius made a humming sound, but didn’t meet Paul’s eyes.
“Nobody enters fully into the Christian life at once,” Paul said. “You can ask Silas or Timothy about the catastrophes new believers cause, claiming they’re now perfectly in the faith. My experience is that the Spirit’s work within us is a rolling over and rolling on. You’re in this with Christ and Christ is in you in the Spirit. You open yourself to how the Spirit works in you in your suffering” — he spun his arm around in a circle — “and the Spirit rolls over your suffering and mixes it into endurance and then the Spirit folds your endurance into character. The Spirit helps your character grow into hope. The Holy Spirit works that way, on and on. It’s God pouring love into our heart as surely as Christ poured out his blood on the cross.” He placed his hand on Tertius’s shoulder. “You don’t have to take an examination on the history of our Hebrew faith. For now, just trust Christ’s Holy Spirit within you, swirling around God’s creative love. That’s enough to keep you busy.”
He leaned back and so did Tertius. “We’ll leave off writing for the day,” Paul said, “And let’s pray about this. You clearly need more prayer than discussion.” Paul summoned Aquila and Priscilla and the four prayed for an hour until Tertius was certain he felt — even if he didn’t understand — the Holy Spirit’s pouring God’s love into his heart.
Preaching point: The Holy Spirit’s growing, loving influence within believers.
*****************************************
StoryShare, June 16, 2019, issue.
Copyright 2019 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
