I mean, that’s the proof of a Christian, right? Christians are so much nicer and kinder and more compassionate and sociable, and never would an angry, nasty, impatient, judging word spill from their lips. 

But what if you’re not a Christian, but you’ve grown up in a loving family, where you were deeply valued and respected, and life was full of joy and good times together, so you ended up being a jolly nice, well rounded, thoroughly balanced, and exceedingly well liked person that people loved to be around? People would probably think by your good manners and pleasing demeanour that you’re obviously a Christian, even though you aren’t one.   

Compare that to a person who toddles off to church every Sunday, who therefore would be thought of as Christian, but he’s not a very nice person at all. In fact, he’s morose, negative, complains a lot, is highly opinionated, doesn’t listen to anyone else’s point of view, and he’s on your doorstep moaning about your dog barking, and dead branches from your tree dropping on his flower beds. And he calls himself a Christian? 

But what if he’d grown up in awful surroundings, in a mildewed apartment with an alcoholic father who treated him like a punchbag, and his mother filled him with TV dinners with all nutritional brain developing nutrients stripped out of them? And to survive the bullies and drug pushers he became tough and surly, and rather scary to be around, because he’d flare up easily and yell, and stab you in the chest with his finger to get his point across.

And yet he says he’s a Christian. He goes to church. But what would identify him as a Christian other than going to church? Well, why not ask him? And what if he said in reply, “I know what I’m like and how really horrible I am, and there’s no way I can ever change what my upbringing made me, but Jesus said, ‘It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance’ in Luke 5:31-32. And I took that to mean he can take a hopeless case like me and make me into something new. It’s going to take time, I realize that, but that’s why I’m a Christian, because that’s what Jesus came to do for people like me.”

But would the person who grew up in ideal surroundings, who enjoys a good life and lots of friends, and has little trouble socially, and no trouble with bad moods, feel that same need for Jesus’ help to make him into a new person? What “new” thing would he need, he might ask, when he’s already been thought of as “a jolly good fellow”? 

So who’s the Christian? The nice person who sees no need to repent or change, or the nasty person who hates who he is and throws the awful mess he’s become into Jesus’ hands, to see what Jesus can make of him instead? 

The influential and powerful people in our world today have taken the view that us ordinary folks are a danger to ourselves and to the planet, so our behaviour needs to be closely monitored and regulated, which will likely mean more restrictions on our freedoms in 2023, and more sacrifices on our part that may well cause even more frustration, anger and hurt. 

With that in mind, are there stories in the Old Testament in God’s dealings with Israel that may offer us some useful tidbits for coping with what may be coming up this year – that help heal the hurts and give us hope when things seem hopeless? Well, several stories came to mind, but how about this one to start off with….

It’s the story of king Ahaz, crowned king of the Jews at the tender age of twenty, whose reign kicked off with a hopeless situation. Two other kings had joined forces and invaded his country, killing thousands of his fellow Jews and carting off thousands more as prisoners. But both kings felt justified in their vicious attack on non-violent innocents because Ahaz wasn’t complying with their narrative, that they should all join forces together to keep their people safe from terrorists, in their case the Assyrians. 

So they put the fear up Ahaz to get him to comply, which worked surprisingly well, because “Ahaz and his people were shaking like trees in the wind” (Isaiah 7:2). Mass hysteria rapidly spread through the land, paralyzing them all in helpless, shivering panic, so that no one had any idea what to do. 

Which God was aware of, because he contacts Isaiah and tells him to take his young son Shear-Jashub (Shee’ar-Yashub) with him for a chat with the king. It seems like an odd idea taking his boy with him, because the little chap doesn’t actually say or do anything when they meet with Ahaz. 

But the message for the king wasn’t in what the boy said, it was in the boy’s name, because it meant A Remnant Will Return. It means, Ahaz, that even if your people are all dragged off as prisoners and life seems hopeless, God will make sure that some will return to settle and rebuild. In other words, this isn’t the end of the world, Ahaz. The planet will survive and so will your nation, despite what the fear mongering alarmists are saying.

So Isaiah’s advice from God to Ahaz is, “Stay calm, and don’t be frightened by those pompous windbags, because to God they’re just a couple of smouldering stubs of firewood (verse 4), all smoke and no flame. Oh, they’ll spout and threaten if you don’t comply with their demands (verses 5-6), but – and here’s the point you need to get, Ahaz (verse 9) – that if you don’t stand firm in your faith, you will not stand at all.”  

(Continuing in part 2 on Friday – taking into account 1 Corinthians 10:11, that “These things happened to them (Israel in the OT) as examples for us”)

God gets quite picky on who he chooses for what and when. 

In Exodus 19:5, for instance, he chose Israel “out of all nations” to be his “treasured possession.” And to Israel exclusively, Romans 9:4-5, he gave “adoption as sons, divine glory, covenants, the law, temple worship, promises, patriarchs, and the human ancestry of Christ.” And to the Samaritan woman in John 4:22, Jesus stated the exclusivity of the family of Judah as playing the leading role in salvation. 

He also chose Abraham and his descendants, and exclusively Isaac and Jacob, to be the family line that led up to the birth of Jesus (Matthew 1:2-16) who would bring about the promised “blessing of all nations.” Tell that to the globalist elites who think they and their “Great Reset” are going to solve the world’s problems. Sorry, God exclusively reserved that job for Jesus. 

“Salvation is found in no one else (but Jesus)” too, Acts 4:12, “for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved.” Tell that to those who believe all religions are equally valid as paths to eternal life. Sorry, God exclusively reserved that path for Jesus.

And Jesus wasn’t shy about confirming it either, when he stated openly in John 11:25-26 that “I am the resurrection and the life…and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.” And a couple of chapters later when he said, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” Tell that to those who believe the founders of their religions are divine. Sorry, only Jesus is.   

He’s also the only one “appointed” by God to “judge the world with justice,” Acts 17:31, the proof of which God gave by “raising him from the dead.” Tell that to those who believe they’ve been exclusively appointed to bring about global unity and a new world order. Sorry, only Jesus has been appointed to do that. And, what’s more, he’s only doing it through those who are “chosen by God and precious to him,” 1 Peter 2:4. 

But doesn’t all this make God a tad unfair?  

No, because in God’s exclusive choice of personnel, from Noah, Abraham, Israel and Jesus, to the ones he’s training on this earth right now to accompany Jesus in setting up heaven on earth, his one great desire in all of it is to bring about a world of total inclusivity, where everyone is valued and respected, and the whole planet flourishes. 

Which we’ve never been able to do. Because only he can.  

The catchy words in our culture are “diversity, inclusivity, and equity,” the first letters of which spell D.I.E., which is unfortunate, because these three words are supposed to bring L.I.F.E. into our world, according to those who believe our present world needs to be dismantled and given a reset.   

The second of the three, inclusivity, gets the lion’s share of the “great reset” they believe this world needs. And rightly so when defined as “everyone feeling valued and respected,” because “God (also) is no respecter of persons,” Acts 10:34. The Greek word for “respecter of persons” in that verse is taken from two words, “face” and “perceive,” meaning someone who judges you worthy of respect, or not, on face value, not on knowing you.  

This would spell real trouble if you were hauled up in court before a judge whose view of you was skewed by your outward appearance or social status, or by your race, ethnic group and gender – but God’s not like that. 

He does not “show favouritism (or partiality),” Romans 2:11, which Peter understood to mean “I should not call anyone impure or unclean,” Acts 10:28, because no one is viewed by God as being above or below anyone else. There’s no such thing as a globalist elite to God, therefore, because “He doesn’t care how great a person may be. He pays no more attention to the rich than to the poor.” Job 34:19. 

It must have been a shock of earthquake proportions, then, when the Jews found out that God “accepts people from every nation,” Acts 10:35, when their Jewish law stated it was forbidden “for a Jew to (even) associate with a Gentile or visit him,” verse 28. 

And maybe it’s a shock for us too that God blesses evil people with sunshine and rain just as much as good people (Matthew 5:45). It’s amazing, isn’t it, that God allows even his worst enemies to enjoy good weather, good crops, good food, good marriages and loving families. 

And why is that? Because “when we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son,” Romans 5:10. It’s because his Son “died for all,” 2 Corinthians 5:14, that God can include everybody, even his worst enemies, in his forgiveness.

So God’s inclusive all right. He leaves no one out when it comes to his mercy. On that point he views and values everyone equally. But does that mean he can’t be exclusive as well?….(coming up next)  

God gave himself this same challenge with the Israelites: How to prove to them that they could trust him? 

In Exodus 19 he explained how he went about it. First of all, verse 4, “You yourselves have seen what I did to Egypt, and how I carried you on eagles’ wings and brought you out myself.” So, first of all, God made himself known to them by some pretty impressive miracles. And miracles that meant a great deal to them personally too, because they were trapped in a hopeless existence, with no way out. 

I can vouch for that in my own life. As a teenager I was stuck in a life I hated, and there was nothing I could see in my future that even remotely made life worth living. But then, out of the blue, the one thing I’d dreamt of happening all through my teenage – that I’d given up on ever happening – actually happened. It was God’s way of making himself known to me, because it was so perfectly tailored to my need that even I could see it was him. So, first step done. And the same for the Israelites; they knew their escape from Egypt was God’s doing too.

To the next step, then, in verse 5: “Now if you obey me fully and keep my covenant, then out of all nations you will be my treasured possession.” And somehow I got that point too, because I found myself seriously wanting to obey God, something I’d never done before. And I was the only one “out of all” my friends as well, just like Israel was. And it soon became obvious by the things I was learning and the changes in my mental state, that God was treating me like a “treasured possession” too. 

And that’s how God proved to me I could trust him. And it could have been that way for the Israelites too, because they started off really well (verse 8). But, now that they knew God could be trusted, would they trust him? God had passed the trust test, but would they? Would they return the favour, so to speak, and fulfill God’s dream? The dream simply being that they’d trust him whenever things got rough in the future. And isn’t that the same for all of us too? Life is an endless challenge of situations and issues that constantly call upon us to trust him.       

But that was the challenge the Israelites never rose to, because when things got rough, they gave up on God (Hebrews 3:9-10, 12). And what a pity that was, because the reason God allowed situations to keep cropping up was to prove to them even more that he could be trusted, in how he always came to their aid. 

The result of which, for the Israelites. would have been “entering God’s rest” (Hebrews 3:11), that wonderful state Paul described in Philippians 4:12, in which “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation.” The secret being? Verse 13: “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” 

And that’s how God proves to us we can trust him, again, and again, and… 

Why would “the Lord say, ‘Cursed are those who put their trust in mere humans’” in Jeremiah 17:5?

“Cursed”? That’s a bit tough, isn’t it? But in context the Hebrew word means causing anger, rage or indignation. Humiliation too. All of which a person feels when let down by someone who does not come through as promised.  

It made me wonder why any of us make promises at all, because there’s always that danger that we cannot fulfill them. We say we’ll meet someone “on the dot” at 6:00 pm; a fixed and certain promise. But on the way to the meeting we slip on a banana peel, crash head first into a fire hydrant, roll into the road unconscious, and get run over by a motorbike. Leaving the poor chap waiting for us fuming – because in his mind we didn’t stick to what we promised. 

And wedding vows. Why do we make them? A list of “I promises” the couple make to each other, when there’s no guarantee that either of them can, or will forever, fulfill them. All sorts of things crop up, as nearly half the married couples who split up discover. But they “vowed,” didn’t they – believing at the time that each of them could be fully trusted to do their bit.  

Because we put so much weight on trust. And easily fall for, or commit to, someone who seems trustworthy. The pandemic was a classic case in point, because as scary stories emerged early on, it was jolly comforting to hear from politicians, doctors, and drug companies that they had a cure that was totally “safe and effective.” And I, like millions of others, trusted them, that what they said was true. 

There are now a lot of “cursed” people – indignant, furious and enraged – as facts are coming to light about the cure and the motives behind those pushing it, that tell of deliberate hiding of the dangers, and by people we trusted with our lives too. No wonder so many people are saying they will never trust doctors, drugs, mainstream media, or politicians again. 

Which is tragic, because who’s left to trust in instead? 

On the other hand, maybe it’s good, because “Jesus didn’t entrust his life to people – because he knew them inside and out, and how untrustworthy they were,” John 2:24-25. 

So if our Creator viewed people with a large pinch of salt….    

For many people the Bible is just a bunch of fairy tales cobbled together to give magical credence to a nonexistent being. 

But how many of those same people celebrate Christmas, which contains its own collection of fairy tales cobbled together to give magical credence to a nonexistent Santa Claus and flying reindeer? 

But Christianity has its share of fairy tales too, like Peter at the Pearly Gates ticking off his list of good guys and welcoming them to heaven. And what’s heaven like? More fairy tales about a place where the streets are paved with gold and we swish around on fluffy clouds strumming harps and singing. 

But I’ve done my share of dabbling in fairy tales too. When my daughter was young and we’d travel in the car for hours together, I’d dream up stories about animals and princesses with all sorts of moral platitudes and dreamy scenes that would’ve had Walt Disney taking serious notes if he’d been with us. 

But that’s the real world we live in too, where real princes and princesses “made for each other” marry in fairy tale surroundings, and thousands of people line the streets, cheering, waving and crying as the magical carriage with its prancing horses swoop by. It’s pure theatre on a grand scale, but it’s the stuff of fairy tales and we never seem to tire of it. 

And if someone can spin a good tale, with promises of sunny days and making their country great again, it brings in the adoring crowds too. It’s all myth, of course, because no politician yet has created the fairy tale of our dreams. And the commercials at Christmas time? Brilliantly done, with their warm and fuzzy scenes of family, syrupy platitudes, sentimental oozy music, and happy faces all round. None of it is true to life; it’s just cunningly crafted theatre to sell stuff, but do a fairy tale well and it is irresistible.     

And now we have the latest crop of utopian globalists selling their agenda with fairy tales, seeing ourselves all tucked up safe and secure and not a worry in the world if they own everything and we don’t. It’s just another fluffy world of human imagination playing on our hopes and fears, that like all utopian fantasies fizzle out and fade into obscurity, just like fairy tale princes and princesses grow old, get arthritis and warts, and don’t get a mention in the media anymore.  

So is there anything in this world that isn’t based on fairy tales? Well, how about a book with a chap who says, “To all of you who’ve had your fairy tales shattered and have seen through the myths, come to me, and you will find rest for your souls”? And he meant it as something he can do in real life too, not in our dreams.  

He never gives up, does he? Year after year God patiently works with us so we’re gradually being “conformed to the likeness of his Son,” Romans 8:29, and bit by bit we’re “being transformed into Jesus’ likeness with ever-increasing glory,” 2 Corinthians 3:18. 

That being the case, I wondered what likeness and increasing glory I wish I could experience most. And one thing stood out: the relationship that Jesus has with the Father as his Son. With the added thought that, since it’s Jesus’ likeness we’re being conformed to and transformed into, then it must be possible for us to experience that relationship too. 

And, fortunately, Jesus not only said it was possible, he also explained how it was possible – and that he very much wants to make it possible too “so that the Son may bring glory to the Father,” John 14:13. Everything in Jesus’ life is motivated by that. It’s his great wish, therefore, that we come to that same point too, that we see the Father like he does, and love the Father like he does. 

Which explains why Jesus asked the Father to give us the Holy Spirit (verse 16), because the Spirit “with” and “in” us (verse 17) helps us “learn that I (Jesus) love the Father” (verse 31). It’s the Spirit’s job, then, to get the point across that Jesus has one main goal in all that he does, and that’s to bring glory to his Father because he loves him. But then we find out from Jesus in John 16:15 that the Spirit “takes from what is mine and makes it known to you.” So the Spirit’s job also entails making what motivates Jesus “known” and very real in our lives too. 

Which sets the scene very nicely for the extraordinary statement Paul makes in Romans 8:14 that “those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God.” So the Spirit makes it real all right, by helping us understand that our relationship with God is exactly the same as the relationship Jesus has with his Father, because like Jesus we are the Father’s children too. So it’s through the Spirit, therefore, that Jesus is making it possible for us to love the Father like he does.

Which Paul confirms in verse 16 when he writes “The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children.” For the Spirit, then, this is personal. He personally (“himself”) goes to work in us so we too can love the Father like Jesus does. He “testifies” to it, meaning he’ll prove it true all right.

Ahead of us, then, is another year of the Spirit enabling us to love the Father like Jesus does. And for the same reason too, that we experience the same glory the Father gave Jesus, of being one as they are one (John 17:22).    

And a wonderful future for THIS world too, not leaving this world behind and having a wonderful time in heaven instead. Going to heaven forever isn’t what the Bible promises anyway.

What it does promise is “bringing all things in heaven and on earth together,” Ephesians 1:10. So planet Earth isn’t a bad place we need to escape from. It just needs heaven with it to make it wonderful. Nor do we need to escape our bodies either, as Plato and his ilk suggested, which somehow caught on in the early church and stuck us with the idea of becoming fluffy, disembodied beings somewhere “up” in heaven, rather than living in indestructible and beautifully functioning bodies right here on the Earth. 

Clearly, then, God likes this planet a lot. And he said so too, in Genesis 1:31, when he called it “very good” and he set up home here. At one point in our distant past, therefore, heaven and earth were brought together, and for at least one chapter in Genesis it was wonderful. 

But how do we know it can be that way again? 

Because it’s already happened. There are people who’ve already experienced heaven and earth coming together in their lifetimes. They know what it’s like, therefore, because it happened in them. And the reason it happened is because God planned for some to experience heaven while living in this world now. Not an easy task in this messed up world, but in lessons learned they’d be nicely prepared for teaming up with Jesus for the next step in God’s plan to bring heaven and earth together on this planet on a much grander scale. 

For that purpose, therefore, God opens up “the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing” to those he’s called in advance (Ephesians 1:3-4), so they get a real taste of “the powers of the coming age,” Hebrews 6:5. They know there’s a wonderful world coming, therefore, because they’ve already experienced it. It’s just a taste, but a taste sufficient enough to know the difference heaven makes.

And if it makes that kind of difference in people now, think what difference it will make to the planet when God “brings ALL things in heaven and on earth together.” No wonder Jesus prayed, “Thy kingdom come,” because it’s heaven with it that makes our world wonderful.   

As Christians, that is, what do we do when our leaders are showing clear signs of being delusional sociopaths?

Two examples from Scripture come to mind: the first involving active participation – “doing something about it” – and the second not doing anything, or being passive.  

The active participation example is in Acts 4 when Peter and John came up against the delusional sociopaths of their day, who’d chucked them in jail (verse 3) for talking in public about Jesus. So much for free speech back then too. Instead, censorship and being hauled up before the authorities to answer for their dastardly deed (verses 5-7). 

Which they did. And well too, because it left the authorities without a foot to stand on. They didn’t know what to do (verse 14). So, just like authorities do today they resorted to coercion (verse 18). The response they got from Peter and John, however, was classic: “Judge for yourselves whether it is right in God’s sight to obey you rather than God,” verse 19. 

The authorities desperately wanted to punish them for such outrageous cheek, but scared of a public backlash they issued “further threats” and “let them go” (verse 21). But Peter and John hadn’t finished with these folks yet. They “went back to their own people,” verse 23, “and reported all that the chief priests and elders had said to them.” And this is when their active participation and “doing something” began.  

Because in verse 24, “they raised their voices together in prayer to God” to “consider their threats and enable your servants to speak your word with great boldness,” verse 29. They weren’t hanging around; they went straight to God for the courage to ignore these thugs and not be intimidated. And God responded (verse 31). So in this case it was their active participation that got the problem dealt with.    

In another case of a delusional sociopath, however, there was nothing they needed to do, because God dealt with it himself. And the reason for that is a real shot across the bow for any leader today who thinks and acts like he’s a god. Herod was such a chap, who in response to an adoring crowd in Acts 12:22 shouting “This is the voice of a god, not of a man,” he gave no “praise to God,” so “an angel of the Lord struck him down and he was eaten by worms and died,” verse 23. His was “a sin that leads to death,” 1 John 5:16, that not even prayer can change.   

That’s very different to leaders who are being delusional, haughty and stupid, because that’s just being typically human – and that isn’t a sin unto death. Can we look upon them as fellow humans, then – brothers even – and “pray for them that God will give them life” (verse 16), by waking them out of their stupour, so they promote things right and good and true, rather than opposing them.