I Thessalonians 5:23-24
Parenting is a
challenge. Dr. C. W. Brister once described the process as one of saying “Goodbye”
while in the midst of saying “Hello.”
Parents are getting to know their children, discovering them as real
people, but are also preparing their children to stand on their own. Parents do the tough job of pushing their
children out of the nest, not because they want the nest to be empty, but
because it’s the best way for the children to learn to use their wings. I don’t know if bird parents have such
feelings but I suspect most human parents hold their breath until their fledges’
frantic flapping stops and they begin to fly.
When David and Kelly
moved away, we couldn’t help wondering if we had done enough to prepare
David. No doubt Kelly’s parents felt the
same. [After several years of living a thousand miles away from us, it seems
like they’re managing quite well. Still,
should it ever be needed, there’s a spot in the nest.]
It’s natural to wonder
if you’ve done enough.
Paul’s first letter to
the Thessalonians grew out of a loving concern for a church that was truly a
work in progress.
Circumstances—including life-threatening persecution—had forced Paul to
leave before he had said everything he had wished to say.
Years ago I took a class
from the model of an absent-minded professor.
One Wednesday he delivered the same lecture he had delivered on the
previous Monday. When he realized what
had happened, he insisted it was good for us.
He said, “Dr. So and So used to say, ‘Repetition is the soul of sound
pedagogy.’” (That’s the art and science
of teaching.)
Paul had probably
planned to review the basics of Christianity with the Thessalonians, to tell
them again and again what they needed to know but wasn’t able to. He didn’t have time. The authorities had forced one of the new
Christians in the church to post a bond promising that Paul wouldn’t cause any
further trouble. The authorities defined
causing trouble as preaching the gospel, so it was a promise Paul couldn’t
keep. For the sake of the church, he had
to leave the city.
The church had actually
done quite well in his absence, but he still wished he had had a little more
time to get it ready to face the world.
In his letter he
underscored some issues he wanted to reinforce and corrected some matters the
new believers hadn’t gotten quite right.
Then as he began to
close the letter he offered a beautiful benediction. I like the way Eugene Peterson in The Message translates it.
23May God himself, the
God who makes everything holy and whole, make you holy and whole, put you
together—spirit, soul, and body—and keep you fit for the coming of our Master,
Jesus Christ. 24The One who called you is completely
dependable. If he said it, he’ll do it!
When we really
understand this blessing we’ll see that God may be trusted to complete his work
in us completely.
Some Fundamental Assumptions
Understanding this
blessing begins with some fundamental assumptions.
An Assumption about Who We Are
One of the most harmful
byproducts of that pervasive perspective that sees humankind as the product of
random, undirected chance is the tendency to see human beings as purely
material. Neither human self-perception
nor the Bible allows us to see ourselves and our fellow-creatures as merely
bodies, some—due to our culture’s influence—more aesthetically pleasing than
others, but still just a collection of cells animated by synapses. Such secularism sees us being on the same
plane as dogs, cats, birds, and whales.
Such secularism sees each of us as so many pounds of flesh and
bone.
[Since I first preached this sermon television has
introduced us to a character who holds such a naturalistic worldview: Dr. Sheldon Cooper of The Big Bang Theory. Yet, although Sheldon rejects his mother’s
East Texas fundamentalism as so much superstition, he so longs to live beyond
death that he looks forward to the day when his mind might be uploaded into
some type of computer. Although he
claims to live by Carl Sagan’s mantra—“The Cosmos is all that is or was or ever
will be”—Sheldon holds onto that almost universal human aspiration that
somehow, someway death won’t be the end of who we are.]
The result [of such secularism] is somewhat similar
to standing before DaVinci’s Mona Lisa
or one of O’Keefe’s magnificent flowers and saying, “What a beautiful frame.”
The Bible sees us as
more than our bodies while never devaluing the body.
Many Greek thinkers in
Paul’s day thought of the body as a kind of prison from which our souls seek to
escape. The Bible would have none of
that.
God’s work is directed
to all that we are. The phrase
"spirit, soul, and body" refers to the whole person as the object of
God's sanctifying activity. Defining the
body is fairly simple: the body is our outward form. It’s not so easy to define “spirit” and
“soul.”
à “Soul” usually refers to what makes us individuals. It is that part of us which lives
forever. [Pastors hear strange stories. I
was once given a newsletter from a southern church that reported how a recently
widowed man in the church claimed to have received a phone call from his
deceased wife—he knew it was her since the woman who hated talking on the phone
didn’t stay on the line long. (This occurred
long before caller-id and roaming charges.)
Then, there was the time a woman challenged me to deny her story of her
father’s ghost visiting her shortly after his death to tell her that everything
would be okay. I chose to respond by
saying, “Perhaps you’ll admit such experiences are not typical.” The point is, even Christians can have a
fuzzy view of life after death. But most
Christians would not embrace any notion saying we are simply somehow absorbed
into some universal soul. After death we
retain some since of individual identity, the “real” you and the “real” me
lives on. That’s what Paul has in mind
when he speaks of “soul.”]
à “Spirit” usually
refers to that part of our identity that enables us to relate to God. [This
part of our make-up prompted Augustine to say, “You have made us for Thyself
and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in You.”]
The Bible never gives us
scientific definitions of the facets of our human makeup. Instead, it stresses our fundamental
unity. When God works on us, He works on
all of us.
An assumption about Who
God is.
God is faithful.
This is reminiscent of
Paul's promise to the Philippians, "He who began a good work in you will
bring it to completion in the day of Christ Jesus." (Phil. 1:6) The God who called us to salvation would not leave
the work half-done. Finishing his work
would be a reflection of his character, for he is faithful (trustworthy). This would be a good word of encouragement to
a people whose eyes were on the future.
No matter when the Second Coming might occur or how far off it might be,
God would faithfully work in them to carry out his purposes.
Paul would remind the
Thessalonians of God’s faithfulness again when he wrote his second letter to
them. “But the Lord is faithful; he will
strengthen you and guard you from the evil one.” (2 Thessalonians 3:3) In the face of challenge, it was important
for them to remember that. It’s
important for us to remember it as well.
Leon Morris:
“Through all the
intervening years the conviction that God
can be depended upon
has sustained men of faith as, indeed, it does to this day. It is not in the unstable qualities of men
that trust must be placed, but in the eternal faithfulness of God.” God is not only a Caller, He is a Doer. He will do perfectly all that is involved in
the call. “It is profoundly satisfying
to the believer that in the last resort what matters is not his feeble hold on
God, but God’s strong grip on him.”
The Shape of God’s Blessing
In referring to God as “the God of Peace,” Paul is reminding us that God
has made it possible for us to have peace with him, peace within ourselves, and
peace in the face of life's changes and challenges is called on to make us
perfect and holy, "holy in every way," as William's renders the
verse.
The God of peace will bless us by making us “holy and whole.” What we need is to be ready to stand in God’s
presence
“No nook nor corner of
your life is to be left where the peace of God does not penetrate; it is to
reign undisturbed in every province of your being. Many are satisfied with a partial
Christianity, some parts of their life are still worldly. The apostolic admonitions constantly prod
into all the corners of our nature so that none may escape purification. Here sanctification refers to the whole work
of God, which follows the kindling of faith in our hearts. … The
sanctification is not wrought in one instant…but is a steady development.”
We will be all that we can be as God works in us.
This passage is a great promise to every pastor who has had to leave a
church before every member was fully mature, to every parent who’s watched a
child move into the stream of life, leaving the relative safety of home behind,
to every missionary who has had to leave a field before the work was “done,” to
anyone who’s shared the gospel, seen that gospel message accepted; and then,
for whatever reason, had to leave that new believer in the care of others.
The promise tells us the spiritual nurture and health of those for whom we
are concerned is in the hands of One who is constantly present, unquestionably
committed, and infinitely capable.
