A guest post from our daughter; an imaginative look at the depth of grace upon grace our God has given us, that warmed and challenged me.
“But as we have been approved by God…” What does it mean to be “approved by
God?” What are the implications? Qualifications? I have a picture of this picture of the
Inspector of the grand warehouse of the cosmos, reviewing His creation, and we
get glimpses at His verdicts—“It is good”, He spoke over creation in the
beginning. His heart was pleased, His
purposes were being carried out without opposition, every living thing
glorified Him in every act and every breath.
Then, several chapters later, we find the Inspector “grieved
in His heart”—the work of His hands, His precious possessions had rebelled,
shaken off the easy, light yoke of their King and struck out along their own
barren road.
As I read in I Thessalonians, I find this confident
assertion by Paul and his fellow workers, “we have been approved by God.” Before I had read over this without thinking
“approved by God”…next verse. But
something catches me here, the dazzling brilliance that lurks in the
words. Approved, approved by the God of eternity
past and eternity to come, the God that spoke the universe into existence; He
pronounced the work of His words good.
But we, we men acted defiance and twisted our minds away from the light
and the entire world recoiled from God.
So now these words—approved by God, whence come they? And I think I know, they come from the mighty
God who being in the form of God, made Himself of no reputation, and took on
himself the form of a bondservant; they
come from the mighty God Who came in the likeness of men, and felt the weakness
of frail humanity, the fires of human passion, the manifold temptations of the
flesh, and won out against the power of sin; they come from the mighty God Who,
being found in appearance as a man humbled Himself to the point of death, even
the death of the cross. He bore the
displeasure of a just God, the wrath of a potter on rebellious clay, the wrath
of a Creator against His twisted creation, and threw His own Son out of His
presence, forsook Him and cast Him out of all fellowship, out of all light, out
of all harmony and all hope of glory—so that we who so desperately desired to
make a name for ourselves apart from the name with which He named us in the
beginning, might be called sons of the Living God; that we who rejected the lot
appointed to us by a wise Creator might be called heirs of the kingdom of
heaven; that we who rejected His hand of power over us might be given, our hand
into His in holy marriage; that we who marred His image in us by our actions,
might awake in His likeness; that we who so grieved His heart, filled deep with
love, might please His heart, and delight our King; that we who distained
fellowship and acquaintance and inheritance and all association with this glory
might be approved by this Just King Whose wrath is fierce and who leaves no
iniquity unpunished.
Reading on, Paul and the others say “But as we have been
approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel…” Wilder and wilder. At this point, if I am truly grasping the
words, this story has passed from completely unbelievable to definite
fantasy. The Father has welcomed His
prodigal home and the world cannot believe it.
But now He sends that prodigal son out to all His clients as His
representative, to carry out all His business, to sign in His name, to oversee
His business and to set up contacts—to be the representation of His character
by his intentions and actions. I mean,
God has sacrificed His own Son, brought sinners into His holy palace, clothed
beggars in the royal robes after washing them in the lifeblood of His only
Son—God has just written the most passionate, crazy love story ever heard of,
and now He’s entrusting the relaying of this story to the people who botched up
the whole mess and spit on this grace to begin with—the people who crucified
His Son. For goodness sake, why didn’t
He send angels? Probably the angel
Gabriel alone could do a better job than a million blundering earthlings. The gospel, that treasure whose glory and
ridiculous wonder dazzles all who behold Christ—why on earth did He entrust us
with that?
Somehow it all brings more glory to Him, for without His
power we would fail miserably at this job, more miserably than we failed the
test in the garden, because that was a midterm…this is the final. We have the entire scheme of His working in
history to look at, the cross is before us, the intention of His love is
declared and sealed by and engagement ring—His Spirit, and this is the last
age, the end of all time when the harvest is brought in and the time is short. Knowing our weakness, He sent a helper, the
engagement seal to aid us in our work until He returns. He does not leave us comfortless, powerless,
helpless, but sends assurance of His love, and the power to fulfill His call. He didn’t send His angels to declare the
gospel, but He commissioned us, His bride, to tell of His love, we, who know
the depths and heights of His affection for us in Christ. He didn’t send angels because Christ didn’t
die for angels, the promises aren’t for angels, the sight of His glory in the
gospel has not been fully given to angels, but to men. And men are given this great, grand
commission to go out and proclaim these mysteries hidden for ages, these things
which angels long to hear; to proclaim the knowledge of Christ over the face of
the earth that the hearts of all who are called might burn within them at the
words of that gospel and be changed into the glorious likeness of Christ.
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