Ah, the fears that grip the human heart when it comes to giving. But oh, the grace that triumphs over all!

Paul addressed this fear in v. 6, declaring that "whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully." Most folk believe the opposite: If you want more, give less. But Paul says, if you want more, give more. But how can this be? The answer is provided in yet more detail in the paragraph that follows. Here's how Paul put it:

"And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work. As it is written, ‘He has distributed freely, he has given to the poor; his righteousness endures forever.' He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness. You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God" (2 Cor. 9:8-11).

Clearly, God promises to supply abundantly those who give generously. Paul wants the Corinthians to be free from the fear that generous giving will leave them impoverished. His language is effusive and unmistakable: "God is able to make all grace abound to you" . . . God "will supply and multiply your seed" . . . and "you will be enriched in every way".

So, does that mean the prosperity people were right after all? Well, not exactly. One must never claim a promise without noting its purpose. In other words, we must ask the question, to what end or for what purpose or with what goal in mind does God cause the generous Christian steward to abound? Simply put, why does God promise financial abundance to those who cheerfully and freely give to others?

Paul leaves no room for argument. He gives no grounds for disagreement. His words are unequivocal and to the point. So that there might be no confusion or discord, he says it three times over. Please note the bold type as I again cite the apostle's words:

"And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work" (v. 8).

"He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness" (v. 10).

"You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God" (v. 11).

Take special note of v. 8 where Paul strings together a series of universals to make his point pellucidly clear: "And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work" (v. 8).

This is breathtaking language, not unlike what he wrote to the Philippians: "And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus" (4:19; see also Matt. 6:33; Ps. 84:11). Once again, this is not a guarantee that our circumstances will improve or that we will be insulated against suffering and hardship. Don't forget his earlier description of the Macedonians who were recipients of this marvelous and effusive grace and yet were not spared from "a severe test of affliction" nor delivered from "extreme poverty" (2 Cor. 8:2).

Rather, God's promise is that he will never stir your heart to give and then fail to supply you with resources to do so. But the idea that we should give so that God will enrich us personally with a view to increasing our comfort and convenience and purchasing power is foreign to Paul's teaching. Personal wealth is here viewed, not as an end in itself, but as a means to a yet higher goal: continued generosity to those in need.

One thing that will undermine the outworking of this principle is the lie that a $100,000 salary must be accompanied by a $100,000 lifestyle. As Piper has said, "God has made us to be conduits of his grace [not cul-de-sacs]. The danger is in thinking the conduit should be lined with gold. It shouldn't. Copper will do" (Desiring God, 173).

The principle at work in this divine scenario is that if you give generously now you will discover that God not only sustains your desire to give but will greatly increase your resources for yet more joyful and even more glorious giving in the future. The point is that "the divine beneficence is designed not to facilitate the accumulation of wealth but to make possible all kinds of liberality. We receive in order to give, not in order to hoard" (Harris, 645).

One final comment is in order. In v. 9, Paul cites Psalm 112:9 - "He has distributed freely, he has given to the poor; his righteousness endures forever." One might be tempted to think that this refers to God's righteousness as expressed in his gracious and generous activity of amply supplying us with adequate resources to continue in faithful support of those in need. But a closer look at the whole of Psalm 112 clearly indicates that the "he" who has distributed freely, the "he" who has given to the poor, the one whose "righteousness endures forever" is in fact the Christian. Paul has us in mind!

This is strong encouragement indeed! When we believe in God's bountiful provision and trust his promise "to make all grace abound" to us so that we will have an abundance, in turn, to "abound in every good work" (v. 8), our righteous acts of charity will endure forever. When we trust the truth that we "will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way' (v. 11), our generosity is regarded as a righteousness that will never fade nor lose its value in the sight of God.

Sam

When you heard of the massive needs of Christians in New Orleans, devastated by hurricane Katrina, was your heart paralyzed with fear that excessive giving might cast you into the throes of poverty? Could you think only of that new computer that would now be out of your financial reach or that family vacation that would have to be postponed?

These are uncomfortable, but unavoidable, questions. There's no escaping the fact that when it comes to money, motivation matters.

Paul's statement in 2 Corinthians 9:7 may well be the most famous of all biblical texts on the subject of giving and Christian stewardship. If so, it is certainly deserving of this honor. "Each one must give as he has made up his mind," writes the apostle, "not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver" (v. 7).

In the previous meditation we saw that one of the primary factors in determining whether or not a gift is bountiful and generous is the mind of the giver, which is to say, the spirit or intent or attitude that moves one to give. Here in v. 7 Paul provides an explicit explanation of what that mind must be. But first we must take note of two preliminary points.

Observe first that giving is a universal responsibility. "Each one," says Paul, which is to say every one, should be energetically engaged in this act of stewardship (see also 1 Corinthians 16:2). No one is exempt. Indeed, why would they want to be?

Second, the phrase "as he has made up his mind" employs a verb found only here in the NT. Its focus is on personal deliberation and freedom of choice. Giving is never to be impulsive or careless or lacking in preparation and planning. Think about what you are doing. More importantly, think about why you are doing it. Pray about it. Plan it. Pursue it in a calculated and intentional way.

We now come to the three critical elements in all Christian giving, the first two of which are negative in force while the third is more positive.

First, sowing a bountiful seed, the sort that reaps a corresponding bountiful harvest, must be devoid of reluctance. Others translate this word "with regret" or "grudgingly" or "out of sorrow." Paul's point is that our giving must never be accompanied by a sense of loss or by the sorrow that comes from thinking about what we otherwise might have done with the money. If your giving is characterized by grief over what you might have gotten had you kept the money for yourself, God is not pleased. If your giving is accompanied by fantasies of the physical and material comforts that might otherwise have been obtained, God is not pleased.

Second, neither is God pleased when we give under the gun, or to use Paul's phrase, under compulsion. Are we concerned about what the church treasurer will think when he issues our end-of-year giving statement? Do we give to impress pastoral leaders and others in the church with our generosity? Do we give in the same way we pay our income tax, from a sense of legal obligation or even fear of criminal prosecution? Do we give because everyone else does? Paul doesn't want the awkwardness or pressure of the moment to influence their decision. He doesn't want the weight of his apostolic authority to exert undue influence on their choice.

One would almost think that such factors ought to be irrelevant. After all, what's important is that the people in Jerusalem are helped. What's crucial is that they receive the monetary aid that will alleviate their suffering. What does it matter what those who give are thinking? Is motivation all that important? Does the intent of the heart really affect the moral value of the act?

The only way to answer that question is by looking at the third characteristic of Christian giving. We must be diligent to avoid monetary regret when we give and we must never contribute under compulsion "for God loves a cheerful giver"!

The word translated "cheerful" has been the basis for countless sermons and extravagant illustrations. Yes, as you have no doubt heard, it is the Greek word, hilaron, from which is derived the term "hilarious". No, you cannot use the meaning of our English word "hilarious" to interpret Paul's statement in 2 Corinthians 9:7. In other words, you can't define the Greek hilaron in light of the English hilarious. This would be to commit a fallacy known as semantic anachronism. This is when a late use of a word is read back into earlier literature. Semantic anachronism would be interpreting the meaning of the first century Greek word, as used by Paul, by an appeal to the meaning of the twenty-first century English word, as it is understood by you and me.

Unfortunately, preachers also make this mistake with the Greek word for power, dunamis, from which is derived the English term dynamite. No, you can't appeal to what dynamite means or how it is used in our language to provide insight into what it meant in Paul's language. But we must move on.

Needless to say, if God loves a cheerful giver, he is displeased when people give but don't do it gladly, even if their giving is generous in terms of quantity. "When people don't find pleasure (Paul's word is ‘cheer'!) in their acts of service, God doesn't find pleasure in them" (John Piper, Desiring God, 104).

Does that mean if we don't have joy we shouldn't give at all? If I'm grumpy next Sunday or depressed or feeling especially guilty for sins committed, do I have a legitimate excuse not to give? After all, I don't want to incur God's displeasure! No.

Whereas joyless giving is certainly less than ideal, it is better than not giving at all. But don't stop there. Never be content with fulfilling a duty in the absence of delight. Let me suggest a few steps you should take.

First of all, confess the sin of joylessness. Joylessness, writes John Ortberg, "is a serious sin" (The Life You've Always Wanted [Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1997], p. 68). Acknowledge the coldness and indifference of your heart. Don't pretend that it doesn't matter how you feel. It matters not only to you but especially to God.

Second, pray earnestly and passionately for a revelation of God's splendor and beauty and majesty and sweetness and all-satisfying, all-sufficient goodness. Plead with the Holy Spirit to grant you spiritual ears that you might hear the Father rejoicing over you with loud and boisterous singing (Zephaniah 3:17). Ask the Holy Spirit to grant you spiritual eyes that you might again see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

Third, map out a biblical strategy for renewing your joy. Or, as Jonathan Edwards once said, "Lay yourself in the way of allurement." Posture your life in that place where God is more likely to be found. Walk down the path where he has promised he will be encountered in life-changing and powerful ways. Avail yourself of those activities and means wherein the likelihood is increased that your heart will be captivated by the beauty and splendor of God.

In other words, immerse yourself in his Word, meditating daily on his promises and ingesting the infallible truths he has revealed. Go often to the Table of the Lord, so that by partaking of the elements of wine and bread the Spirit might awaken you to the glory of the finished work of the cross and sanctify you by his quickening presence. Remind yourself often of the reality of forgiveness, the glory of justification, the certainty of heaven, and the manifold blessings that God has provided in Christ.

Fourth, think about hell! Yes, you read it correctly. Think about hell. Among his personal resolutions, Jonathan Edwards included the following: "Resolved, when I feel pain, to think of the pains of martyrdom, and of hell" (The Works of Jonathan Edwards: Letters and Personal Writings, Vol. 16, ed. George S. Claghorn [New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998], p. 754). You'll be amazed at how a brief time of meditation on the agonies of hell, from which you have been so graciously delivered, will serve to increase and deepen your joy and gratitude!

Fifth, and finally, go ahead and give generously anyway. Fulfill the outward dimension of your duty in prayerful hope and expectation that it will help to rekindle the inward delight. No, this is not hypocrisy, because you are doing the outward act hoping to regain the inward joy, not as a substitute for it or as disguise to convince others you mean it when in fact you don't.

"Cheerful" giving is neither frivolous nor foolish, and does not require that one laugh hilariously as the plate passes by. The "cheerful" giver is the one whose heart is rapturously filled with the knowledge of the goodness and greatness of God, whose mind is captivated by the beauty of Christ, whose soul is satisfied with all that we have in him, and who, in spite of all adversity and in defiance of every circumstance, rejoices with joy inexpressible and full of glory (1 Peter 1:8). Such a giver God loves!

Sam

The book was initially undertaken in response to concerns raised by the ministry in the U.K. of Morris Cerullo (his international organization is known as MCWE, or Morris Cerullo World Evangelism). The issue that stirred the waters was "the direct link he [Cerullo] appeared to make between the level of donors' contributions to his own particular ministry and the extent of God's blessing upon those donors' lives" (x).

Whatever else may be said of the prosperity movement, this is its foundational and driving force, namely, the belief that there is a direct, cause and effect, correlation between the size (i.e., quantity) of the "seed" one sows and the financial dividends it pays (many in the movement describe it as a spiritual "law" of return, as reliable and certain as gravity). According to the crasser forms of this "theology", the more one gives the more one gets. Getting for oneself is the goal and giving is the means. After all, or so they tell us, "We are children of the King" and therefore deserving of the newest, the best, and above all, the most. It is our "birthright", is it not?

I want to propose that the theology of Paul in 2 Corinthians 8-9 is of a decidedly different spirit. Yes, there is a giving that gets, but that is far and away different from giving in order to get. In the divine economy, says Paul, giving that is joyful, generous, spontaneous rather than coerced, and motivated by heartfelt compassion for those in need is a giving that results in getting. But the getting is not for personal gain but in order that the giver may have a bountiful supply for yet more giving.

Before digging deeply into this incredible truth, a brief summation of vv. 1-6 is in order. There we read:

"Now it is superfluous for me to write to you about the ministry for the saints, for I know your readiness, of which I boast about you to the people of Macedonia, saying that Achaia has been ready since last year. And your zeal has stirred up most of them. But I am sending the brothers so that our boasting about you may not prove vain in this matter, so that you may be ready, as I said you would be. Otherwise, if some Macedonians come with me and find that you are not ready, we would be humiliated - to say nothing of you - for being so confident. So I thought it necessary to urge the brothers to go on ahead to you and arrange in advance for the gift you have promised, so that it may be ready as a willing gift, not as an exaction. The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully" (2 Cor. 9:1-6).

Paul's comment that the Corinthians' initial zeal to give stirred up "most" of the Macedonians is a healthy dose of realism. In other words, not all the believers in Macedonia gave generously with joy in the midst of their affliction (cf. 8:1-5). It would be too much to expect that they would.

As for the Corinthians and their earlier commitment to join in this endeavor to alleviate the poverty of the church in Jerusalem, Paul's initial excitement has been somewhat tempered. Titus has come from Corinth with the discouraging report that the collection had been put "on the back burner." His point in vv. 3-5 is that in light of his previous boasting about them this could now be a cause of some embarrassment to both him and them. Barnett is helpful here:

"Although Paul has applied a degree of moral pressure on the Corinthians by (1) holding up the example of the Macedonians (8:1-5), (2) by urgently reminding them of their own initial ‘desire' and ‘willingness' in the previous year (8:10-12), and (3) by telling them he had used their example of ‘willingness' and ‘preparedness' in promoting the appeal to the Macedonians (8:24; 9:2-3), nonetheless, it was important that their response was ‘voluntary' (8:3), as appropriate to the ‘grace of God/Christ' (8:2,9). Paul's words are not ‘command' but ‘advice' (8:8,10). Thus Paul wants their response to be ‘a free gift,' not ‘an exaction'" (434).

Whereas some think that v. 5 is describing two attitudes toward giving, either generosity or stinginess, I'm inclined to see here two ways that Paul envisioned securing their participation in the offering: either voluntarily or by pressure.

On the one hand, Paul does not want them to give simply because he's an apostle and they are bowing to his authority (although there's nothing inherently wrong with that). Neither fear of him nor guilt over sins committed nor the pride that results in a competitive drive to exceed the Macedonians would constitute the kind of giving that he will later say results in God's bountiful supply.

"I want it to spring spontaneously and joyfully from your heart," says Paul. "I want it to be primarily your idea, not mine. You've already shown a willingness in this regard that even stirred the Macedonians. So now bring it to fruition. Don't humiliate yourselves by a failure to follow through on your promise, and don't put me in the position of having to exercise an authority to exact from you a grudging and unwilling gift."

Here's what you must keep in mind, says Paul: "whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully" (v. 6). But doesn't this play directly into the hands of the proponents of prosperity? There it is: give a lot so you can get a lot.

Well, not exactly. Yes, on the one hand, bountiful giving results in bountiful getting. But bountiful getting, as he will make clear in the verses that follow, isn't for hoarding or padding one's retirement account or moving up in scale from a Honda Civic to a BMW. It's for more, greater, effusive bountiful giving. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Let's be sure we understand Paul's point in v. 6. In farming, what may initially appear to be a loss ("sowing") is in fact a gain ("reaping"). As one sows, so one reaps. But what determines whether a gift is "sparing" or "bountiful"?

We already seen from the example of the Macedonians in 2 Corinthians 8:1-2 that it is not determined by the quantity of the gift considered in the abstract. A gift may be comparatively small and yet spiritually large. Rather, it is determined by two factors, both of which have already been mentioned and will be developed yet further in this chapter.

First, one must take account of the means of the giver. Giving that is bountiful is in proportion to one's wealth (cf. 8:3,11,12; 1 Cor. 16:2). I've already discussed this and need say no more. Second, and perhaps even more important, bountiful giving is determined by the mind of the giver. This means that it is possible to give much but to sow sparingly.

So what kind of "mind" or "heart" or "spirit" or "attitude" does Paul have in view, the sort that turns even a quantitatively small gift into a bountiful and generous sowing of seed? The answer comes, at least in part, in v. 7. To be continued . . .

Sam

He rules the heavens above, having set the stars in place. He calls them each by name and upholds them to the praise of his power. (Isa. 40:25-26; Ps. 147:4).

He creates the clouds and directs their paths and forms each drop of rain (Ps. 135:7; 147:8). Snow and hail and wind and waves are subject to his command (Job 37:6; Ps. 147:16-18). Lightnings flash at his discretion (Job 37:3; 38:35; Ps. 135:7) and thunders roar when he wills (Job 37:2-4; 38:25; Ps. 104:7).

Both feast and famine are in his hand (Ps. 105:16; Amos 4:7) and nations rise or fall at his good pleasure (Dan. 1:2; Jer. 25:1-2; Isa. 10:5-14). Rulers ascend to power or fall in disgrace in fulfillment of his purpose (Dan. 2:37-38; 4:25, 30, 32; 5:18, 20, 21).

The womb is closed at his command or opened when he shows mercy (Gen. 16:2; 29:31; 1 Sam. 1:5; Judges 13:3). Neither disease nor disability escapes his control (Exod. 4:11; Job 2:10) and life and death are in his hand (Deut. 32:39; 1 Sam. 2:6-7; 2 Sam. 12:15; James 4:14-15).

Donkeys drink by his good grace (Ps. 104:11). Birds nest at his behest (Ps. 104:12). God wills and the stork finds a home and the rock badger a refuge (Ps. 104:17-18). When animals kill, he is still Lord (2 Kings 17:25). When they lie helpless, he is still Lord (Dan. 6:22). Plants grow by his word and wither as well (Ps. 104:14; Jonah 4:6-7).

Oh, the glory of the greatness of our God!

But what about us? What of the human spirit? Does God exert control over our hearts? Or do we escape his sovereignty? It's one thing for God to direct the path of the wind or to shut the mouth of the lion. But we are shaped in his image and are the crown jewel of his creative design.

Nothing is quite so unpredictable as the human heart, or so it would seem. Its leanings and loves, its likes and dislikes, seem so random and free, subject to none but their owner. That God should rule over inanimate matter or creatures of instinct is easy to embrace. But what about us?

Surprisingly (or perhaps not), Paul speaks to the point in 2 Corinthians 8. "But thanks be to God," says the apostle, "who put into the heart of Titus the same earnest care I have for you. For he not only accepted our appeal, but being himself very earnest he is going to you of his own accord."

Titus was near and dear to the apostle's heart. So, too, the apostle to Titus. It would have been easy and understandable for this young man to have taken offence at the way the Corinthians treated his mentor. He knew of their slander and suspicion. He saw firsthand their disrespect and doubts. When Paul hurt, he hurt. The apostle's tears were shared by this trusted friend.

If he was to love them and feel an "earnest care" for their lives, God would have to overcome the obstacles in his heart. Titus could easily have yielded to indifference, perhaps even anger and disdain as he reflected on how unjustly the Corinthians had treated Paul. Given their history, Titus might well have nurtured a grudge against them. He probably thought often of the pain Paul endured.

Yet God worked in Titus to overcome these feelings of ill will. If God were to put "into the heart of Titus the same earnest care" that Paul felt for them, he would have to exert a sovereign influence in the depths of his soul to turn him to sincere devotion and a commitment to their welfare.

But wouldn't this require that God violate the integrity of Titus' will? How can Titus still go to Corinth "of his own accord" (v. 17) if it is God who is at work in him "both to will and to work for his good pleasure" (Phil. 2:13)? Here we see the marvelous mystery of divine sovereignty and human accountability.

Don't overlook the fact that Paul thanked God for the choice Titus made in going to Corinth. Titus was filled with earnest and sincere love, for which Paul praises God! God and God alone is ultimately responsible for the choice Titus made, yet Titus made it "of his own accord"! Can you solve the mystery?

Did we not see this earlier in 2 Corinthians 8, where the Macedonians gave "of their own free will" (v. 3), but only because God had first given his grace to them (v. 1)? God is always antecedent!

Although we may not be able to explain it, we must accept it: God's sovereignty didn't undermine the virtue in Titus' decision. Ultimate credit goes to God, but Titus will be rewarded for his moral excellence (2 Cor. 5:10).

The inescapable fact of Scripture is that God not only knows the heart of man (Acts 1:24; 15:8; 1 Cor. 14:25) but operates on it to secure the fulfillment of his ultimate purpose (Acts 4:27-28). If God can put it into the hearts of wicked men "to carry out his purpose" until his prophetic word is fulfilled (Rev. 17:17-18), only then to judge them for their treachery, surely he can put it into the heart of Titus to love and serve the Corinthians and later reward him accordingly.

Does God not only have the right but actually exercise the prerogative of sovereign rule over the thoughts and ways and wills of men? Well, did not God affirm that Abimelech acted "in the integrity" of his heart while yet it was the Lord who kept him from sinning (Gen. 20:6)? The latter did not undermine the former.

Is not "the king's heart" a "stream of water in the hand of the Lord" who "turns it wherever he will" (Prov. 21:1; cf. Ezra 6:22; 7:27)? Bruce Waltke says it best: "God's inscrutable mastery extends to kings, the most powerful of human beings, and to the heart, their most free member" (2:167).

Was David asking for something God couldn't do when he prayed that he "keep forever such purposes and thoughts in the hearts" of Solomon and all his people and that God "direct their hearts" toward him (1 Chron. 29:18)?

How could God possibly give his people "favor in the sight of the Egyptians" without exerting an effectual influence on their desires and decisions (Exod. 3:21-22; 12:35-36)? Did not God make "obstinate" the heart of Sihon, king of Heshbon (Deut. 2:30), and "harden" the hearts of the Canaanites (Josh. 11:20), and turn the hearts of Absalom and the men of Israel to reject the counsel of Ahithophel (2 Sam. 17:14), and move powerfully on the heart of Rehoboam to forsake the wise counsel of older men (1 Kings 12:15), all in order that his sovereign will might come to pass?

And when it came time in the purpose of God for his people to return to the land and rebuild the temple, "the Lord stirred up the spirit of Cyrus king of Persia" to issue a decree to that effect (Ezra 1:1). But what if no one chose to go? Ah, but they all returned, "everyone whose spirit God had stirred to go up to rebuild the house of the Lord that is in Jerusalem" (Ezra 1:5).

We should not be at all surprised, therefore, that God can put love and earnest desire for the Corinthians into the heart of Titus. Nor we should be at all surprised that he is the one who equips us with everything good that we may "do his will, working in us that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen" (Heb. 13:21).

So when you find yourself loving the unlovely, thank God. Each time you choose what is righteous, thank God. When you experience strength to resist sin, thank God. When you show mercy to the weak, compassion to the hurting, and are generous to the needy, thank God. For his sovereignty extends even to the impulses of our heart and the passions of our soul.

Sam

As Christians we face countless enemies to the welfare of our souls, be it pride or lust or bitterness or envy. But few are as powerful and relentless as greed. There's one good thing about greed: no one need define it. We know what it is. We're all familiar with the power it exerts on our hearts and the struggle each of us has to break free of its dominion.

That's where 2 Corinthians 8:6-11, and especially v. 9, come in. It's not certain that greed was the primary reason the Corinthians had stopped short of consummating their contribution to the poverty-stricken saints in Jerusalem, but it must have played a part. Some have argued that Paul's opponents in Corinth were responsible, having suggested that the apostle was deceiving the Corinthians while planning to keep the money (or a portion of it) for himself.

In any case, Paul's appeal in vv. 6-11 is simple: finish what you started; excel as much in generous giving as you do in other spiritual arenas; let everyone know of the sincerity and earnestness of your love for the brethren. As you have been blessed in other graces, now overflow in generosity to those in need. He writes:

"Accordingly, we urged Titus that as he had started, so he should complete among you this act of grace. But as you excel in everything - in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in all earnestness, and in our love for you - see that you excel in this act of grace also. I say this not as a command, but to prove by the earnestness of others that your love also is genuine. For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich. And in this matter I give my judgment: this benefits you, who a year ago started not only to do this work but also to desire to do it. So now finish doing it as well, so that your readiness in desiring it may be matched by your completing it out of what you have" (2 Cor. 8:6-11).

So how does one deal with greed? What is the most effective counter-attack to this insidious force? As I said above, v. 9 is the key. There Paul directs our attention to the one truth that has the power to liberate our hearts from the grip of greed and release in us the joy of generous giving: "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich" (v. 9).

Three questions need to be answered.

First, in what sense was Christ "rich"? The first thing that comes to mind is the incalculable "wealth" of his eternal glory. The sacrifice of the Son will have its sanctifying effect on us only to the extent that we are in touch with the immeasurable splendor and limitless majesty of his pre-existent glory in fellowship with God the Father and the Holy Spirit.

Isaiah did his best to convey the magnitude of this glory by providing this description of his experience:

"In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called to another and said: ‘Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!' And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke" (Isa. 6:1-4).

This is but one portrait of what Jesus had in mind when he spoke to his Father of "the glory that I had with you before the world existed" (John 17:5). Paul described it as being "in the form of God" and experiencing eternal "equality with God" (Phil. 2:6).

But it was more than splendor, more than radiant beauty, more than the unending adoration of angelic hosts. It was joy! The "riches" of Christ that he so lovingly forsook entailed the mutual and immeasurable delight of the Father in the Son and the Son in the Father and the Spirit in the Father and the Father in the Spirit and the Son in the Spirit and the Spirit in the Son. Each beholding the beauty of the other. Each exulting in the excellence of the other. Their eternal and energetic love for one another is beyond our capacity to grasp.

So, secondly, in what sense did Christ become "poor"? Perhaps we should again let Isaiah make the point. Hear him prophesy of the humiliation of holiness: for "he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not" (Isa. 53:2-3).

Wait! No! Surely there's been a mistake. Are you suggesting, Paul, that the one at whom the seraphim dared not look (Isa. 6:2), whose glory filled the earth (Isa. 6:3), is also the one who "has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows," a man "stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted" (Isa. 53:4)? Are you suggesting, Paul, that the one who sat enthroned in power and glory (Isa. 6:1-2) was somehow "wounded for our transgressions" and "crushed for our iniquities" (Isa. 53:5)? How can it be that "the King, the Lord of hosts" (Isa. 6:5) "was oppressed" and "afflicted" like "a lamb that is led to the slaughter and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent" (Isa. 53:7)?

Such was the breathtaking height of his riches and the heartbreaking depth of his poverty. What words remain to explain such "grace"? He joyfully surrendered "all the insignia of divine majesty," writes Harris, "and assumed all the frailty and vicissitudes of the human condition" (579).

And this . . . "for your sake", said Paul to the Corinthians. Yes, and for our sake as well, that you and I "by his poverty might become rich" (v. 9).

"Rich"? In what sense have we become wealthy through his poverty? Refuse to tolerate the spiritually sick and perverted claims of the prosperity "gospel"(?) that would find here a reference to material gain. Our riches and wealth are the sort that cannot be earned by effort or secured at a sale. They are the gift of sovereign grace.

Where does one begin to enumerate them? Election before the foundation of the world? Yes! Forgiveness of sins? Yes! Adoption into the family of God? Yes! Justification by faith alone? Yes! Union with Christ? Yes! The permanent indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit? Yes! Did not Paul assure the Ephesians that God has "blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places" (Eph. 1:4)? Yes!

And above all else, the richest and most precious blessing of all . . . is God himself! He is our inestimable treasure. Beholding his beauty is our inheritance. Enjoying his excellency is our wealth.

But to what end does Paul speak in this way? For what purpose? To stir up lethargic and presumptuous souls to give with exceeding generosity! Said Tasker:

"If this love of Christ, so magnanimous in its motive and so self-sacrificing in its execution, is an active force in the believer's heart, how unnecessary, the apostle implies, any command to practice giving ought to be. What, without that love, might seem a cold moral duty has been transformed by it into a joyous privilege" (116).

Greed is not good. Greed does not work. It cripples and paralyzes and anesthetizes our souls to the needs of others. Worse yet, it ignores the magnanimous mercy and grace of Christ and the sacrifice he made so that we, through his poverty, might become truly rich.

Sam

The apostle Paul would take issue with both groups. He is unashamed to issue what amounts to a passionate and persistent appeal to the Corinthians that they contribute generously to the impoverished church in Jerusalem. In doing so, he provides us with profound insight into the nature of God's grace, our giving, and the joy that is found in the convergence of the two in the life of the church.

As I said, his appeal was provoked by the crisis that had befallen the church in Jerusalem (cf. 1 Cor. 16:1-4; Rom. 15:25-27). The reasons for this grave situation are numerous: in addition to overpopulation, there was social and economic ostracism, disinheritance following conversion, disruption of family ties, persecution, and the lingering effects of the famine of a.d. 46 (cf. Acts 11:27-30).

Paul's effort to raise money for their support was consistent with his stated resolve in Galatians 2:10. There he wrote that "they asked us to remember the poor, the very thing I was eager to do." By pointing to the example of sacrificial giving set by the Macedonians (i.e., the Christians in Philippi, Thessalonica, and Berea), Paul hopes to stimulate the Corinthians to complete their efforts at contributing to their poverty-stricken brethren in Jerusalem (cf. 8:10-11).

As we turn our attention to these two crucial chapters in 2 Corinthians, I want to begin by taking note of the foundational role of divine grace in all that was achieved. This, in fact, is the focal point of Paul's entire message:

"We want you to know, brothers, about the grace of God that has been given among the churches of Macedonia, for in a severe test of affliction, their abundance of joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part" (2 Cor. 8:1-2).

From a strictly human point of view, the odds were stacked against the Macedonians from the start. Common sense would tell us that such folk were hardly the sort who could be expected to alleviate anyone's suffering. Their own "severe test of affliction" and "extreme poverty" would appear to excuse them from participation in any fund-raising venture, except perhaps one that would serve to improve their own pitiful condition.

I'll have more to say on this in a subsequent meditation, but here I draw your attention to the operation of divine grace in their midst. This grace had been "given" or bestowed or poured out on the churches of Macedonia and that alone, ultimately speaking, accounts for their remarkable generosity toward their brethren in Jerusalem.

Yes, Paul appeals to what believers in Macedonia had done. But he is quick to acknowledge that what they did in serving their brethren is the fruit of what God had done in serving them! If the Macedonians "gave themselves first to the Lord" in this ministry (v. 5), it is because God had first "given" his grace (v. 1) to them. Whatever achievement on their part is praised, whatever example they may have set for others to follow, it is ultimately attributed to the antecedent activity of divine grace (this is the principle Paul articulated in Philippians 2:12-13).

This is a beautiful example of the harmony between the antecedent presence of divine grace and the moral accountability of human decisions. In v. 3 Paul says they gave "of their own free will," while in v. 1 their willingness is traced to the grace of God! The same principle is found in vv. 16-17 where Paul says God put an "earnest care" in the heart of Titus, who in turn, "of his own accord," went to the Corinthians.

This isn't the first time we've seen this sort of dynamic interplay between divine grace and human response. In 1 Chronicles 29:10-19 David describes the remarkable fund-raising campaign that eventually subsidized the building of Solomon's temple. In v. 12 David says of God that "both riches and honor come from you." God is not a usurper of things not rightfully his. From a purely human point of view, the money and wealth given for the building of the temple seem to come from the work and energy and savings and investments of the people. Perhaps some of them had profited from shrewd business transactions. Perhaps a few had turned an incredible profit on the sale of some land. But no matter, David says that all riches come from God! Whatever anyone worked for, earned, invested, sold and then gave, they first got it from God.

Again in v. 12, David asserts that it lies in God's hand "to make great and to give strength to all." Whatever energy or accomplishments may be traceable to the people that accounted for what and why they gave, all of it ultimately came from God. Power, influence, ingenuity, success, commitment, whatever it might be, are the result of the gracious and kind operation of a benevolent and giving God working in and through his people for their welfare and his own glory.

David then asks: "But who am I, and what is my people, that we should be able thus to offer willingly?" This is David's way of saying that God is the one who enables us to do what we do not deserve help to do. Who are we, asks David, that we should receive the help of God that would mobilize us to produce this wealth and then stir our hearts to give it away? We are sinners. We deserve nothing but judgment.

But perhaps the most instructive thing David says comes in v. 14. "For all things come from you, and of your own have we given you." I actually prefer the translation of the NASB, "from Thy hand we have given Thee." He doesn't say "To Thy hand," as if it originated with us and ended with God. Rather, it is "from Thy hand." In other words, whatever they gave they first received. He says much the same thing in v. 16. declaring that "all this abundance that we have provided for building you a house for your holy name comes from your hand and is all your own." All giving is but a reflex of God's giving.

As if that weren't enough, in v. 18 he declares that it is God who gives us the willingness to give! It isn't simply that God makes it possible for us to work hard or that he bestows riches on whomever he pleases, but that he initiates and sustains in the hearts of his people the very desire to give. Yes, says David, the people did the giving (v. 9). They gave willingly, of their own accord, and with joy. It was genuine giving, freely chosen, joyfully engaged. They made decisions. Real decisions. Sacrificial decisions. Decisions that make a difference. Decisions without which the temple would not have been built. But mysteriously, in ways that you and I will never fully understand, beneath and behind these choices was the gracious, enabling work of God.

This is the same principle we see at work in the Macedonians and the overwhelming generosity they displayed in contributing to the saints in Jerusalem.

I can't conclude without directing our attention to the use of the word charis, "grace", throughout this section of 2 Corinthians. It is used in 8:1,4,6,7,9,16,19; 9:8,14,15, with a wide range of meaning, from divine enablement to human privilege to a monetary gift to a word of gratitude to divine favor. This should remind us that grace is more than an attitude or disposition in the divine nature. It is surely that, but if thought of only as an abstract and static principle, it is deprived of its deeper implications.

The grace of God, for example, is the power of God's Spirit converting the soul. It is the activity or movement of God whereby he saves and justifies the individual through faith (see esp. Rom. 3:24; 5:15,17). Therefore, grace is not something in which we merely believe; it is something we experience as well.

Grace, however, is not only the divine act by which God initiates our spiritual life, but also the very power by which we are sustained in, nourished, and proceed through that life. The energizing and sanctifying work of the indwelling Spirit is the grace of God (as we will later see, for example, in 2 Corinthians 12:9 in regard to Paul's struggle with his thorn in the flesh).

Grace, then, is a dynamic and experiential reality that empowers the human heart to look beyond its limitations and accomplish things that defy rational explanation. Grace is the power that enables impoverished and suffering saints to give when, by all accounts, they should be the ones to get. Such was the operation of grace in the giving of these Macedonian believers. And such ought to be its operation in us as well.

Sam

The issue is not whether Christians are responsible to be generous with their wealth in giving back a portion of it to support the work of the ministry. 2 Corinthians 8-9, as well as other texts, make it quite clear that we are. The question, rather, is whether New Covenant Christians are biblically and morally obligated to give according to Old Covenant laws. The question is not whether Christians are free to tithe of their income. Certainly, they are. The question is whether Christians are obligated to give precisely 10% of their income. Does the Bible legislate to believers under the New Covenant a specific percentage of their income that they are to give?

In ancient times tithing was not restricted to religious people, such as the nation Israel. Giving a portion of one's income either to a pagan deity or to the governing authority was a widespread custom. One need only read Genesis 47:24 where the Egyptians were required to pay 20% of their harvest to Pharaoh. Other extra-biblical documents indicate that tithing was commonly practiced throughout the ancient world among such people as the Syrians, Lydians, and Babylonians (see the discussion of this in the article on the "Tithe" in The Zondervan Pictorial Encyclopedia of the Bible, V:756).

Was tithing a mandatory or even common practice among God's people prior to the giving of the Mosaic Law? There are two examples of pre-Mosaic tithing.

We read in Genesis 14:18-20 that Abraham gave "a tenth of everything" to Melchizedek. Personally, I am reluctant to appeal to the example of Abraham to justify contemporary tithing, and for the following reasons.

First, we don't know whether Abraham tithed because of some divine mandate that was binding on all God's people at that time, or because he was following a common ancient near-eastern custom. There is nothing in the OT which indicates that Abraham ever received divine or revelatory instructions concerning tithing. There is no command associated with this incident or any other evidence indicating that what Abraham did on this one occasion is binding and normative for all believers in every age.

Furthermore, observe that Abraham tithed out of the spoils or booty of war (see the preceding context in Gen. 14:13-16; cf. also Heb. 7:4). Nothing is said about his tithing from his yearly income. We should also note that he didn't tithe to God but to a man, Melchizedek. And as far as I can tell, there's no evidence that Abraham ever tithed to anyone again. He may have, but we have no record of such activity and thus no way of knowing if this was a singular event or one example of a common practice.

Finally, the only other reference to this incident is in Hebrews 7. There the author is determined to prove the superiority of the New Covenant priesthood of Jesus Christ to the Old Covenant priesthood. He does this by proving the superiority of Melchizedek to Abraham. Remember, it was Abraham who paid a tithe to Melchizedek, not the other way around. It was Melchizedek who blessed Abraham, not the other way around. And as Hebrews 7:7 states, "the inferior [or "lesser"] is blessed by the superior [or "greater"]."

Our author then says that, in a certain sense, Levi also paid a tithe to Melchizedek because he was in the loins of his great-grandfather Abraham when the incident recorded in Genesis 14 occurred. The point he is making, notes F. F. Bruce, is this: "Abraham was a great man . . . but in the account of his interview with Melchizedek, it is Melchizedek who appears as the greater of the two. And if Melchizedek was greater than Abraham, his priesthood must be greater than a priesthood which traces its descent from Abraham" (139-40). Therefore, Jesus, who is our high priest "after the order of Melchizedek" (Heb. 6:20), is greater than any and all priests of the order of Aaron and Levi. It is exegetically tenuous, then, to appeal to this text in defense of contemporary tithing.

The other example of pre-Mosaic tithing is found in Genesis 28:22 where it is said that Jacob promised to give a tenth of all he had to God. Is this a solid biblical reason why we should do the same?

First, note well that this is a vow made upon the condition that God would bless Jacob. This isn't the case of someone saying, "Tithe to God and God will bless you," but rather "God, you first bless me and then I will tithe to you."

Second, do we have good reason to believe that Jacob's act is to be taken as normative for all believers in every age? I might be willing to grant that we should follow Jacob's example if the rest of Scripture were silent on the subject of financial stewardship. In other words, if all we had on the subject of giving was the story of Jacob, perhaps then it would be wisdom to pattern our giving after his. But the New Testament is anything but silent on this subject, as our study of 2 Corinthians 8-9 will reveal.

A brief word is in order about how tithing was practiced under the Mosaic or Old Covenant. Some believe the Israelites paid nearly 22% of their income to the Lord every year! Let me summarize this argument.

According to Leviticus 27:30-33, 10% of all grain, cattle, fruit, etc. was to be set aside as a tithe to the Lord. This tithe, in turn, was to be given to the Levites for the work they did while serving at the tent of meeting. The Levites constituted the tribe of Israel from which the priests were taken. We read in Numbers 18:20-32 that they received this tithe because they were not given an inheritance in the land.

Thus, it would appear that the first 10% of the Israelites' income was to be given to the Levites, who in turned tithed from that 10% (1%), giving it to the high priest (Numbers 18:26-29). Clearly, the Levites, or those who ministered in the tabernacle and Temple, were supposed to live off the tithes of the other eleven tribes.

In 1 Corinthians 9:13-14, Paul reminds the church that in the OT economy the Levites who worked in the Temple lived off the tithes brought there: "Do you not know that those who are employed in the temple service get their food from the temple, and those who serve at the altar share in the sacrificial offerings? He then says in 9:14, "In the same way, the Lord commanded that those who proclaim the gospel should get their living by the gospel."

Paul's argument is that those who spend their lives ministering the Word of God should be supported by other Christians. To make his point, he draws attention to the way it was done in the OT. At minimum, Paul is saying that other believers are to financially support those in so-called "full-time ministry." Whether or not he is saying that they should do it by giving precisely 10% is less certain.

On the basis of Deuteronomy 14:22-27, some argue that a second tithe (or 10% of the remaining 90%, hence 9%) was to be taken once a year to Jerusalem, there to be consumed by a man and his family in a sacred feast or meal. If a person lived too far away to transport his tithe to Jerusalem, he was permitted to exchange his goods for silver. When he arrived in Jerusalem, he was to convert his cash back into cattle, sheep, wine, etc. (Deut. 14:24-26). If this is the correct interpretation, we now have Israelites paying 19% of their income in tithes. But there is more to come.

According to Deuteronomy 14:28-29, an additional (?) tithe of 10% was to be paid every third year. This tithe was to be given to the Levites, the aliens, the fatherless, and the widows. In other words, every third year the Israelite was to take an additional 10% from the remaining 81%. If my math is correct, this means that every year the Israelite was required to pay approximately 21.7% of his income in tithes to the Lord!

Others have objected to this interpretation, arguing that these passages in the OT all refer to the same tithe. It is only one tithe, 10%, to be used in different ways. In other words, 10% of one's yearly produce/income (Lev. 27) was to be taken to Jerusalem and consumed there (Deut. 14:22-27). Whatever was left over was to be given to the Levites (Num. 18:20-32). Every third year, however, the entire 10% was to be given to the Levites, the aliens, and to the orphans and widows. On this interpretation, the Israelite was required to pay only 10% a year.

Regardless of which view one takes, the important point to note is that the Israelite was required to pay his tithe. It was tantamount to a national income tax. That is why Malachi 3:6-12 speaks of those who did not pay their tithes as "robbing" God. In Israel, under the Mosaic Covenant, there was no such thing as separation of church and state. One's tithe was a religious tax designed to sustain the theocratic state of God's chosen people.

The New Testament twice (Matthew 23:23 [Lk. 11:42]; Luke 18:12) refers to people tithing who were still living under and therefore morally obligated to obey the dictates of the Old, Mosaic Covenant. But these people were required to pay their tithes for the same reason they were required to bring a lamb for sacrifice and required to observe the civil code of Leviticus and required not to touch a dead body and required to obey all the legislation instituted by God in the covenant with Israel. On what grounds, then, do we say that the OT law concerning tithing is still binding on the conscience of New Covenant believers but its laws concerning other matters is not?

Is it permissible for a New Covenant Christian to tithe, i.e., to give 10% of his/her income to the work of the church? Not only is it permissible, I would strongly recommend and urge you to do so. In choosing to give 10% of our income to the Lord, we are honoring a God-given, Old Testament principle. In the absence of a prescribed percentage for giving in the New Testament, why not adopt the Old Testament pattern?

However, this does not mean you are sinning if you don't. To give only 8% or to give 15% is equally permissible. Not to give at all, or to give disproportionately to your income (which is the case with most Christians today), or to give grudgingly, is indeed sin. Let us be joyful and generous in our giving. After all, everything we own belongs to God anyway!

Sam

It would appear from this passage that it is not enough to be open to spiritual gifts and their operation in the local church. One must be zealous for them and earnestly desire their presence, especially the gift of prophecy (1 Cor. 14:1, 12, 26).

However, not everyone agrees with this interpretation. As I've thought about it, there appear to be several ways that one might respond to this exhortation. But first, two observations are in order.

(1) It's important we remember that this is an exhortation, an imperative, a command, and not merely a statement of fact. In 1 Corinthians 12:31 Paul says, "earnestly desire the greater gifts." The verb translated "earnestly [or eagerly] desire" (zeloute) is grammatically ambiguous (it can be either indicative or imperative). A few insist it is merely a statement characterizing the behavior of the Corinthians, hence "you are eager for the greater gifts." In other words, they take it to be a statement of fact concerning a state of affairs, not an exhortation to future action.

But the Corinthians were not, in fact, seeking the greater gifts. That was precisely their problem. They were placing far more emphasis on the gift of tongues, making it a mark of spirituality. In fact, the whole of chapter 14 is Paul's attempt to encourage them to desire prophecy in their corporate gatherings rather than uninterpreted tongues, prophecy being the greater gift insofar as it, because intelligible, edifies others.

Also, the same verb form appears in 1 Corinthians 14:1 and 14:39 and is there unambiguously imperative (i.e., a command). It is difficult to believe that the same verb, in the same form, in the same context, would be used by Paul in two entirely different ways without some hint or contextual clue to that effect.

Consider also 14:12 where Paul writes, "So also you, since you are zealous of spiritual gifts [referring to their collective enthusiasm for tongues], seek [imperative] to abound for the edification of the church [in particular, the gift of prophecy, as the context demands].

(2) Some have pointed out, correctly, that the exhortation to "earnestly desire" spiritual gifts (1 Corinthians 12:31; 14:1) is in the plural. But they conclude from this, incorrectly, that Paul's command is therefore directed not to individual believers but to the corporate church. They argue that this is grounds for rejecting the idea that individual Christians should seek any spiritual gift.

But of course the verb is plural, as are virtually all Paul's commands in letters other than those addressed to individuals (such as Philemon, Titus, and Timothy). Paul is writing to everyone in the church at Corinth, each of whom is responsible for individually responding to an exhortation that has validity for the entire church. In other words, what is the corporate church if not a collection of individuals on each of whom the obligation falls? The plural of this exhortation simply indicates that all believers in Corinth are to heed the apostolic admonition. It is a duty common to everyone. That includes us as well.

I can well imagine someone in Corinth (or today) responding to this attempt to evade Paul's obvious intent by saying: "How can we as a church pursue spiritual gifts if none of us as individuals is allowed to?"

Now, those observations aside, there are six possible ways of responding to this exhortation.

First, I suppose someone might claim to be an agnostic on the subject of spiritual gifts and thus exempt themselves from having to respond. They just haven't been able to make up their mind concerning the debate between continuationism and cessationism. In other words, they say, "I don't know if prophecy and tongues and word of knowledge, for example, are still being given by God to the church, and until I do know I can't be expected to obey an exhortation that might not be binding on my conscience."

I understand this position, but if it is yours I would argue that you have a moral and spiritual obligation to resolve the matter as quickly as possible. On the one hand, if cessationism turns out to be true, you haven't lost anything by ignoring the imperative. However, if continuationism is true, your failure to explore the issue and lingering uncertainty are depriving you of the benefits that you and your church could enjoy from the exercise of these gifts. And you, personally, are at minimum guilty of a sin of omission.

If this first option is where you find yourself today, by all means study and search out the Scriptures, come to a conclusion, and act accordingly. After all, if continuationism is true, and at the judgment seat of Christ the Lord inquires about your failure to obey his Word, I doubt if you'll relish saying, "I'm sorry God, but I just couldn't make up my mind!"

Second, there are those, like myself, who believe the New Testament explicitly affirms the on-going, contemporary validity of all spiritual gifts. For such, the command of 1 Corinthians 14:1 is morally binding and must be obeyed.

Third, there are those who believe the NT is explicit in its affirmation of the cessation of certain spiritual gifts in the first century. For them, the exhortation in 1 Corinthians 14:1 is therefore irrelevant. The most we can learn from it is what God desired for the early church, but it has no application to the body of Christ beyond the death of the last apostle. It is no more binding on Christians today than are the dietary regulations in the Law of Moses (although for different reasons).

Fourth, there are those who are cessationists, even though they do not believe the NT is explicit on the subject. In other words, they would say that whereas the NT doesn't teach the cessation of certain spiritual gifts, they nevertheless believe it. Therefore, the command of 1 Corinthians 14:1 was binding on first-century believers but no longer is for us.

This is a somewhat dangerous stance to maintain, for it entails believing something without explicit biblical warrant, on the basis of which one justifies ignoring an exhortation that is explicit.

Fifth, I suppose someone might respond to 1 Corinthians 14:1 by saying, "I think some gifts, such as prophecy and tongues, have ceased. Therefore, I am not under obligation to earnestly desire or pray for them. But other spiritual gifts, such as teaching and mercy and giving are still operative today and I will happily pray that God might bestow such gifts on me or on the church at large."

On this view, we have a selective obligation to obey Paul's command. We can ignore his emphasis on prophecy ("especially that you may prophesy") but must heed his exhortation when it comes to all other, so-called non-miraculous, gifts of the Spirit.

Sixth, there are those who don't believe the NT teaches cessationism, who also believe that it is possible that all spiritual gifts are still valid for the church today, but who do not obey Paul's command in 1 Corinthians 14:1. I would also include here those who believe it is definite that all spiritual gifts are still valid for the contemporary church, but they, too, fail to obey the Pauline imperative. This is the least viable of all positions.

If one believes either that it is possible or that it is definite that all gifts are still valid and important today, one must explore ways to obey Paul's command. If the gifts are valid, God does not leave us the option of either seeking them or not seeking them.

One cannot respond to this text by saying, "Well, yes, there is no evidence that God has withdrawn the gifts and in fact there is evidence that they are still being bestowed by the Spirit, but that's just not what we, as a church, are into. It's not our style. It's not our vision or contained in our mission statement, and to be perfectly honest, we are frightened by the possibility of such manifestations of the Spirit's power and would prefer to fulfill the ministry given us by God without incorporating the pursuit of spiritual gifts and the mess that it would inevitably bring."

This latter position, quite simply, is sin. To acknowledge the validity of spiritual gifts, and to acknowledge that God commands us to earnestly desire their manifestation, only then to refuse to do so, is sin.

Of course, whichever position one adopts we are all, in every age, responsible to "pursue love" (v. 1a), for without it, all gifts, whether teaching or tongues, whether prophecy or pastoring, are but a "noisy gong or a clanging cymbal" (1 Cor. 13:1).

How, then, will you respond to the apostolic imperative?

Nowhere is this better seen than in 2 Corinthians. In fact, the lengthy paragraph before us (2 Cor. 7:5-16) is unintelligible apart from an understanding of the movements of Paul and Titus and the personal interactions between them and the Corinthian church. So let me briefly set the context for this incredibly instructive and encouraging passage.

As best we can tell, Paul made an urgent and confrontational visit to Corinth in the spring of 55 a.d., which he described as "painful" in 2 Corinthians 2:1. He immediately returned to Ephesus and changed the plans he had earlier made to visit Corinth twice more: once on his way to Macedonia and then on his return trip (cf. 2 Cor. 1:15-16). Fearful that his enemies would destroy the work of the gospel in Corinth, he wrote what some have called the "severe" or "tearful" letter (2 Cor. 2:4, 9), entrusting its delivery to Titus.

In late 55 a.d. he left Ephesus and went to Troas, hoping to meet Titus there with news of how the Corinthians had responded to this forceful appeal. Much to his chagrin, Titus was nowhere to be found (cf. 2 Cor. 2:13). Evidently he and Titus had planned to meet in Macedonia (probably Philippi) should the meeting in Troas not occur. Hence, Paul made his way to Macedonia, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Titus from Corinth. While there he suffered greatly, both in terms of external opposition and internal anxiety and distress, unsure of how his spiritual children would respond to what he had written. Finally, Titus arrived from Corinth with the good news for which Paul had prayed. The apostle's response is described in the passage before us (2 Cor. 7:5ff.).

Evidently, the Corinthians initially felt sorrow on hearing Paul's letter (vv. 8-9), but soon repented of their sinful behavior and expressed their love and longing for him (vv. 7, 9, 11-12). Titus is greatly comforted and refreshed by their response and upon his reunion with Paul in Macedonia reports to the apostle this glorious turn of events. His regret over sending the severe letter is short-lived when he learns of the godly and sincere fruit it bore in their experience (v. 8). Now he is relieved and filled with joy both at how Titus was encouraged and refreshed by them as well as their genuine and godly repentance (vv. 6-7, 9-12, 13).

Our concern in this meditation is with his opening comments in vv. 5-7. It's a remarkably honest and vulnerable confession by Paul of his state of mind and body:

"For even when we came into Macedonia, our bodies had no rest, but we were afflicted at every turn - fighting without and fear within. But God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the coming of Titus, and not only by his coming but also by the comfort with which he was comforted by you, as he told us of your longing, your mourning, your zeal for me, so that I rejoiced still more" (2 Cor. 7:5-7).

Several things are worthy of note.

First, in 2 Corinthians 2:13 it was his "spirit" that couldn't find rest when Titus failed to appear. Now it is his "body" (v. 5). Whereas "body" (Gk., sarx) may be inclusive of his spiritual and psychological state of being, the emphasis is on the frailty and vulnerability of his physical frame. Paul was not above or insulated against experiencing great physical agitation and weakness. This was caused by a multitude of afflictions (v. 5), what he calls "fighting without and fear within" (however, both "fighting" and "fear" are plural in the Greek text, pointing to multiple occasions when he confronted each).

The "fightings" were not physical battles, as if to suggest that Paul was a regular participant in some ancient version of pugilistic combat! He has in mind ecclesiastical controversies and theological disputes that he apparently faced on a regular basis (cf. the use of this word in 2 Tim. 2:23; Titus 3:9; James 4:1).

What is of special interest is his reference to "fears within", which no doubt included his anxiety about how Titus would be received (not to mention the physical safety of his beloved emissary), his concern about how the Corinthians would respond to his letter (would they reject him or repent of their sin?), and his lingering worries concerning the influence of the false teachers in Corinth.

Take heart: Paul was just like you and me! Murray Harris is right in pointing out that Paul "openly admits to being in emotional turmoil and having persistent fears. So far from being imperturbable or being a model of inner tranquility, he was deeply affected by his circumstances, especially his pastoral circumstances (cf. 11:28-29), although he was certainly not emotionally fragile" (527).

He obviously cared deeply both for Titus and the believers in Corinth. Their spiritual and physical welfare weighed heavily on his heart, and he is unashamed to confess the burden and anxiety and overall toll it took on him, body and soul.

Second, thank God for the "But God's" of the Bible! "But God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the coming of Titus" (v. 6; cf. Isa. 49:13). Yes, Paul was "downcast", dejected, perhaps even in some sense depressed because of the "fears" (v. 5) that wracked his heart as he waited, dare I say, impatiently in Macedonia.

Don't overlook an incredibly instructive dual emphasis in this verse. On the one hand, Paul is encouraged by the arrival of Titus. His anxiety diminishes upon seeing his trusted friend and brother in Christ. Don't ever let anyone tell you Paul wasn't a people person, as if all that mattered were theological concepts over which he pondered in a remote ivory tower. The welfare of his beloved brother, Titus, mattered profoundly to him! As Paul says in v.7, it wasn't simply the arrival of Titus that cheered him but the fact that Titus was himself cheered by the reception he received from the Corinthians!

But second, take special note that, typical of Paul, he sees God's providential hand in it all. God was the ultimate source of this comfort. He rejoiced to see Titus and to know he was safe and to hear the good news of what had transpired in Corinth. But all this was from God! He is, after all, "the Father of mercies and God of all comfort" (2 Cor. 1:3), and his ways of dispensing it to us are many and varied. It's truly breathtaking to see yet again the intimate oversight of God in the most mundane of human affairs and how he orchestrates seemingly routine events (such as the return journey of Titus) for our spiritual growth and edification.

The third important observation concerns Paul's joy on hearing how the Corinthians responded to his severe letter (v. 7). When Titus brought his report to Paul he focused on three things. He "told us of your longing," writes Paul. But their "longing" or "ardent desire" for what? Perhaps for Paul himself. Perhaps their desire to be reconciled to the apostle. In any case, Paul is ecstatic upon hearing of their change of heart.

Titus also reported on their "mourning" or "grieving", whether over their inexcusable treatment of Paul or their failure to heed his earlier letters and appeals to repent. Their "zeal" may be a reference to their fresh enthusiasm to comply with Paul's directives, but given the prepositional phrase "for me", it is more likely a reference to their eagerness to unite fully, in heart and mind and spirit, with their beloved spiritual father.

The result? "I rejoiced still more," exclaimed Paul (v. 7b)! There was great joy upon seeing Titus, but even greater joy, now more than ever, upon hearing how he had been received and how passionate these believers had become for Paul and holiness of life. Paul's fellow apostle, John, put it best in saying, "I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth" (3 John 4). Paul couldn't have agreed more.

What a rich treasure has been entrusted to us: the sacred Scriptures, the inspired word of God, as I said earlier, forged in the context of real life struggles and the multitude of human relational dynamics. Here, in the messy and often frustrating arena of human failure and weakness and repentance and reconciliation, we find encouragement and instruction and hope. And this too, from God.

Sam

When I'm asked to recommend resources on the training up of pastors or for wisdom in shaping the future leaders of this or the next generation, I instinctively say, 2 Corinthians! Many respond with a nod and a condescending, "Yeah, yeah," before asking for something more substantive, more up-to-date, more in touch with contemporary culture and prevailing trends in the market place.

I'm pretty stubborn. "Yes, I understand what you are asking for," is my response. "And my recommendation is still 2 Corinthians." This is the point at which they realize I'm not trying to be cute or disrespectful towards the vast array of more recent approaches to leadership and pastoral development. They get the point, I hope, that I seriously believe what we read in 2 Corinthians about Paul and the people from that ancient city is the most insightful, practical, wise, and edifying advice for how to lead and be led available in this or any age of the church.

The passage before us is a case in point. It's brief, but densely packed with pastoral wisdom. Read it carefully:

"Make room in your hearts for us. We have wronged no one, we have corrupted no one, we have taken advantage of no one. I do not say this to condemn you, for I said before that you are in our hearts, to die together and to live together. I am acting with great boldness toward you; I have great pride in you; I am filled with comfort. In all our affliction, I am overflowing with joy" (2 Cor. 7:2-4).

Perhaps the best way to approach this issue is simply to identify several principles that governed Paul's relationship with these believers.

The first thing that stands out is Paul's determination to do everything within his power to facilitate reconciliation with the Corinthians. "Make room in your hearts for us," he pleads with them. This is a resumption of his earlier appeal in 6:13, "In return (I speak as to [my] children), widen your hearts also."

Paul refused to settle for the status quo. It wasn't enough that he had deep affection for them (2 Cor. 6:11-12). He labored to persuade them that there was no good reason to close their hearts to him. Mutual love and mutual commitment was the goal. How tragic is it when leaders and their people become entrenched in long term grudges, which are, more times than not, based on misunderstanding and miscommunication that could easily be resolved if humility were prized. How tragic, and unnecessary, when Christians feed off of relational wounds and simply assume that reconciliation is either too difficult, not worth the effort, or completely beyond the realm of possibility. Paul won't have it, and neither should we.

To prove that the rift was groundless, and that he was deserving of a place in their hearts, he insists that he has "wronged" no one, "corrupted" no one, nor "taken advantage" of anyone. Pastors and Elders, take note of the moral and spiritual integrity that is foundational to all levels and expressions of leadership.

Paul insists he had "wronged" no one, a possible response to the charge that he had been unduly harsh in dealing with the incestuous man of 1 Corinthians 5 or the offender mentioned in 2 Corinthians 2:5-11.

In saying he had "corrupted" no one, he may have in mind either financial indiscretions or matters of morality or doctrine. There is obviously, here, an invitation to anyone in Corinth to investigate Paul's behavior. "You'll find no grounds," says the apostle, "to justify your mistrust of me or the closing of your heart to my position as your leader."

The words "take advantage" might also mean exploit or defraud (cf. its use in 12:17-18). It's possible that some suspected he manipulated for his own benefit the collection taken up for the Jerusalem church (2 Cor. 8:20-21). Nothing could be further from the truth, says Paul.

I also find it instructive how careful Paul is about his use of words. He knows how prone people are to twist things to their own advantage, so he quickly qualifies his words in v. 2 with his affirmation of love in v. 3. Nothing in what he has just said should be interpreted as condemnation or criticism or rejection of them. In fact, Paul was not only willing to live with them, but to die with them as well (v. 3b)!

What a marvelous affirmation of the depth and sincerity of his commitment to them. "Paul is declaring that his destiny, now and always, will be interwoven with that of the Corinthians. Neither the arrival of death nor the vicissitudes of life could divorce them from his affection" (Harris, 519).

There are, moreover, two important consequences to this devotion. Would that all leaders might imitate Paul's example.

In the first place, he was determined to be utterly and altogether open in his speech with them. This is the force of the words translated, "I am acting with great boldness toward you" (v. 4a). His words are not a cloak for some self-serving agenda or a means to protect a wounded ego. He speaks his mind candidly, fearlessly, and without regard to what consequences might befall him personally. He will not hide his intentions or his feelings or his beliefs about what is right and wrong in the church. Whether his words encourage or rebuke, they are the accurate expression of what's in his heart.

Second, he boasts to others about them. "I have great pride in you" (v. 4b), he virtually shouts aloud. Perhaps some had thought he was speaking positively to them, when in their presence, but negatively about them to others. Can you imagine what might transpire in our churches if we were honest with and about one another, both in private and public? I dare say half the disputes that split churches and most that destroy personal relationships would never occur.

He is not simply comforted upon hearing good news of these Christians (2 Cor. 7:7), he is "filled with comfort" (v. 4c). Paul's language is consciously effusive and over the top. He wants no lingering suspicions about his true feelings for them.

Finally, "in all our affliction, I am overflowing with joy" (v. 4d). Whether his afflictions are the cause of his joy or, more likely, that in the midst of them he yet finds reason to rejoice, he wants them to know that whatever he endured to bring them the gospel, whatever he suffered to see Christ formed in them, whatever pain and deprivation he incurred so that Christ might look good in his life, and thus become the treasure in theirs, he did it joyfully.

In a day when self-appointed and self-serving "Pastors" and so-called "Leaders" fleece their flocks and burden them with the responsibility of providing for a lavish and opulent lifestyle, Paul joyfully embraced whatever hardship might come his way if only it yielded a rich spiritual harvest in the lives of those entrusted to his care.

This is the calling and character of those entrusted with the oversight of God's people. You probably won't read about it in any of the New York Times bestsellers or hear of it in the more fashionable leadership seminars. But thanks be to God for his timeless and true revelation of what makes for godly pastors and the people they serve.

Sam

In case you haven't seen the list, or simply don't care, the top five are: (1) Lew Alcindor (UCLA), (2) Oscar Robertson (Cincinnati), (3) Bill Walton (UCLA), (4) Bill Russell (San Francisco), and (5) Pete Maravich (LSU).

Now don't get me wrong. All five were incredible during their college years. It's hard for me to say anything bad about Alcindor (you may know him as Kareem Abdul Jabbar) or Walton, given the fact that I was a rabid UCLA fan while in high school and at the University of Oklahoma. What John Wooden accomplished there is the single greatest achievement in the history of the game, whether college or professional. During the same period, I was (and still am) a devoted Boston Celtic fan (which is why I utterly despise the Los Angeles Lakers, and always will), so Bill Russell would probably stand number two on my list. The "Big O" (Oscar Robertson) simply had no flaws in his game.

But the greatest college player of all time, in my humble (and correct) opinion, was Pistol Pete Maravich. Maravich played basketball at Louisiana State University when an individual was only allowed three years of eligibility, unlike today where a person can play all four years during his time in college. In spite of that, Maravich set and still holds numerous records that will probably never be broken.

He led the nation in scoring three years in a row and averaged 44 points a game. This was before there was any such thing as a three point basket. 44 points a game! In spite of only playing three years, in spite of playing without the three-point shot, he is still the all-time scoring leader in NCAA history. Had he played when the three-point shot was available, there is no doubt that he would have averaged at least 50 points a game, all three years that he played. Think about it.

He holds the record for most field goal attempts in a season. He holds the record for most field goal attempts in a career. He hit 30 free throws in one game. In one season, he scored 50 or more points ten times. He had three consecutive games in which he scored more than 50 points. During his career, he had 28 games in which he scored more than 50 points. He also had 56 games in which he scored more than 40 points.

Aside from his scoring stats, Pete was quite simply the greatest and most amazing dribbler, passer, and ball-handler that ever lived. If you haven't seen video of him, I have no words to describe his facility with a basketball. He did things on a court that defied physics and human nature. He was a magician who ignored gravity and left you wondering how a mere man could have just done that. Neither Bob Cousy nor Magic Johnson nor even Michael Jordan could do what Pete did.

I will always have indelibly imprinted on my mind the sight of a gangly, skinny, mop-haired misfit doing things that no one else has or, in my opinion, ever will do. And who can forget his floppy, rarely washed, socks (something of Pete I imitated in high school, much to my mother's dismay and disgust).

Maravich played ten years as a professional in the NBA and was the youngest man ever inducted into the NBA Hall of Fame. He was the idol of thousands, myself included, but for the majority of his adult life he was a disgrace, a living disaster.

Maravich openly and proudly rejected the God of Scripture. He pursued every possible option in his relentless effort to find meaning and purpose and joy in life. He tried Hinduism, but that didn't work. He dabbled in Buddhism, but that left him as empty as before. He immersed himself in astrology, hoping to find in the configuration of the stars and planets some indication of the meaning of his existence, but again to no avail.

He embraced reincarnation and spent time trying to discover who he was in past lives and who he might become in future lives. He experimented with astral projection, investigated UFO's, became a vegetarian, and eventually gave himself over to drugs and alcohol.

Nothing satisfied him. Nothing filled the hole in his soul. Until one night in 1982, as he lay quietly in bed, for the first time he cried out to God for help. He fell out of bed and got on his knees and committed his life to Jesus Christ. From that point on Pistol Pete Maravich became an outspoken, devoted, passionate disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ, proclaiming the gospel to everyone he met, declaring for all to hear that in the person of Jesus he had finally and fully found purpose, satisfaction, hope, and the forgiveness of sins.

Six years later, in January of 1988, at the age of 40, Maravich was playing a pick-up game of basketball in a church gymnasium in California, together with noted Christian psychologist and author James Dobson. He made a shot, turned to Dobson and said: "Boy, I feel great!" Whereupon he collapsed, dead before he hit the floor.

The autopsy report on Maravich shocked everyone, including the doctors. It revealed that Maravich suffered from a rare heart disease and that from the moment of his birth he had lacked a left coronary artery. The doctors were stunned, given the fact that few ever live beyond the age of 20 with that condition, and certainly no one to their knowledge ever played basketball in college and the NBA as Pete Maravich did.

Pete had expressed his intention to share more publicly what God had done in his life. A travel schedule was in place that would enable him to speak to the youth of our country about the dangers of drugs and alcohol. He wanted to spend more time with his wife and two sons. A movie about his life was actually in production when he died. And he was just beginning a book promotional tour to publicize his autobiography. In fact, he was scheduled to appear on Dobson's Focus on the Family radio program later that very afternoon on which he died. "The heart of man plans his ways," and surely Pete had his plans. "But the Lord establishes his steps" (Prov. 16:9).

I would like to think that in the new earth I'll get to shoot some hoops with Pistol Pete. But I strongly suspect that neither of us will be drawn to anything other than the joyful celebration of the greatness and grace of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Who was the greatest college basketball player of all time? Pete Maravich. But at present, and no doubt forever, his primary focus is on the Lamb of God, as he joins with the saints and angels around the throne, singing, "Worthy are you to take the scroll and to open its seals, for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation, and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on the earth" (Rev. 5:9-10).

Sam

2 Corinthians 7:1 is a call to holiness based on the rock-solid, infallible, blood-bought promises of God. "Since we have these promises," says Paul, "let us cleanse ourselves from every defilement of body and spirit, bringing holiness to completion in the fear of God."

He is undoubtedly referring to those precious promises noted at the close of chapter six: God's assurance to us that he will make his dwelling in our midst, that he will walk among us and be our God, and that we shall forever be his people (v. 16; cf. Lev. 26:11-12; Jer. 24:7; 30:22; 31:33; 32:38; Ezek. 37:27); that he will welcome us to himself (v. 17) and will be our Father, even as we are his sons and daughters (v. 18; cf. Isa. 43:6; ).

Now, if ever there were good grounds for heeding an exhortation to live out in practical and experiential reality what is already true by virtue of sovereign, saving grace, that's it! We have been consecrated and set apart unto him who redeemed us and are already that holy temple in which the Spirit abides (2 Cor. 6:16).

Paul's appeal that one "cleanse" himself from all "defilement" had an obvious point of reference for the Corinthians in the first century that is no longer applicable today (or, at least not for the majority of us). He is undoubtedly thinking of their participation in a variety of ritualistic sexual activities and other illicit behavior associated with pagan temple worship. But the principle that undergirds and gives force to his exhortation is as relevant for us today as it was then for them.

The focus here is two-fold, first on the what and then on the how. What, precisely, are we being told to do? The answer to this first question is itself two-fold: (1) we are to cleanse ourselves from every defilement of body and spirit, and (2) we are to bring holiness to completion. Let's take each in turn.

Defilement is an ugly word. A variety of distasteful images come to mind, which you will be relieved to know I will not describe. One immediately thinks of a stain on an otherwise clean garment or of a moral blemish that sullies and soils. Of course, it's important to remember that not everyone believes there is such a thing as defilement, simply because the word assumes an absolute moral standard from which deviation is possible, resulting in a deficiency of character or a spiritual disfigurement that is deserving of judgment.

It may be something you see or say or in which you participate, but in every case it is unworthy of someone in whom the Spirit of God dwells, who claims God as his Father and Christ as his brother. There's no need for me to be any more specific than that, for each of us knows both from Scripture and conscience, not to mention experience and common sense, what defiles and what doesn't.

Anything, says Paul, that casts a shadow on Christian purity must be renounced. This isn't legalism but a diligent determination to display the character of Christ in word and deed. Its reach is pervasive: both "body and spirit" must be kept clean.

The word translated "body" in the ESV is literally sarx, the common NT word for "flesh". If that seems odd, Murray Harris reminds us that "there is evidence in Paul's letters of a non-pejorative use of sarx where it is synonymous with soma ["body"] and of a popular, non-theological use of sarx and pneuma ["spirit"] where they refer, in a complementary not antithetical way, to the outward and inward aspects of the person" (512). Thus, combined with pneuma or "spirit", the reference is to the whole person, both physically (sarx) and spiritually (pneuma), both outwardly and inwardly.

If one should ask how this is done, the idea here is "by keeping clear of" or "by distancing ourselves from" anything that defiles. Contrary to popular thought, this is possible without separating ourselves entirely from the world or its inhabitants. Daniel and his friends managed quite well to thrive amidst the corruption and paganism of ancient Babylon without being spiritually defiled. Paul similarly expected the Philippians to live "blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation," among whom they were to "shine as lights in the world" (Phil. 2:15).

This also entails a grace-empowered effort to bring "holiness to completion," a process that he anticipated would only be consummated at the second coming of Christ (see 1 Thess. 3:13; cf. also Phil. 3:12-14 and 1 John 3:1-3).

Finally, if that is the what of our sanctification, we must also take note of the how. Bring holiness to completion, says Paul, "in the fear of God" (v. 1b).

What does Paul mean by this? Is it "because" we fear God or "out of reverence" for him that we strive, by his grace, to live as those in whom he himself lives? Or is it "while reverencing God" or, as someone has said, "in an atmosphere of reverential fear" that we are to pursue holiness? Others say it is "by reverence" for God or "by means of fearing" him that we are to live in purity. Surely there is a sense in which all of these are true.

We earlier saw that a robust, reverential fear of God was one of the primary factors that motivated Paul to preach and persuade others to believe the gospel. Knowing that he, and all men, would one day appear before the judgment seat of Christ (2 Cor. 5:10) was sufficient to energize his efforts in making known the good news (2 Cor. 5:11).

Some folks cringe at such a thought. The very word "holiness" conjures up an image of the colorless and grumpy killjoy who lives obsessed with what not to do and where not to go and how not to speak and when not to participate. Being a Christian is reduced to an all-pervasive negative. Following Jesus is perverted into a posture of abstinence and avoidance of virtually everything, rather than an increasingly joyful conformity to how he thinks and a deepening delight in what he loves, together with a healthy aversion to whatever might threaten our complete satisfaction in him.

Holiness, then, is a good and glorious thing because it makes possible our beholding the beauty of God (Heb. 12:14)! It is the "pure in heart" who ultimately "see" and enjoy and revel in him (Matt. 5:8).

If all this seems terribly difficult and demanding, let me close simply by reminding you again of the basis on which such a life is to be pursued. God dwells among us! He is our God! We are his people! He has welcomed us! He is our Father. We are his children! Since, then, we have these promises . . ., well, you should be able to quote the verse by now.

Sam

Graham insisted he knew where it was, having been there before. But it had been a while and there was nothing in the area that alerted us to its presence. We passed several taverns where local soccer (they call it "football"!) fans were overheard debating the matches of the previous day.

Finally, Graham remembered! It was easy to miss. Set back from the street amidst rows of attached homes, there was nothing to alert you to anything special other than a few small signs announcing that it was here that Charles Haddon Spurgeon was saved.

In one of the many magazines to which I subscribe there was recently an article describing, together with color photos, several of the larger and more innovative church buildings here in the U.S. Trust me, Artillery Street Chapel in Colchester would never have qualified, then or now. There is still a very small congregation meeting there. Before Pastor Derek Hale arrived in 1991 it had three members. When he died of cancer in October of 1999 the church had grown to eight. By 2006 the membership had grown to fourteen.

The chapel is quite small, perhaps capable of holding seventy-five people. There is nothing to distinguish it physically, but spiritually, well, that's another matter. As I walked in, I immediately noticed a large bronze plague on the wall which indicated that it was supposedly near that very spot where young Spurgeon sat on January 6, 1850, although he never planned on being there.

Spurgeon lived a few miles away in the village of Hythe. On that Sunday morning he was intent on attending another service, desperate as he was to be rid of the guilt of sin that burdened his soul. "I sometimes think," wrote Spurgeon, that "I might have been in darkness and despair until now had it not been for the goodness of God in sending a snowstorm." The unexpected shift in weather forced him to seek shelter in what was then a non-descript Primitive Methodist chapel where no more than a dozen people were in attendance.

Said Spurgeon, "I had heard of the Primitive Methodists, how they sang so loudly that they made peoples' heads ache; but that did not matter to me. I wanted to know how I might be saved, and if they could tell me that, I did not care how much they made my head ache."

The minister was not present, evidently snowed in. Finally, a thin-looking man went up into the pulpit to preach. "Now, it is well that preachers should be instructed, but this man was really stupid [Spurgeon's words, not mine!]. He was obliged to stick to his text, for the simple reason that he had little else to say." The text he selected was: "Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth." There was, Spurgeon thought, "a glimpse of hope for me in that text." The "preacher" continued:

"Now lookin' don't take a deal of pain. It ain't liftin' your foot or your finger; it is just, ‘Look.' Well, a man needn't go to College to learn to look. You may be the biggest fool, and yet you can look. A man needn't be worth a thousand a year to be able to look. Anyone can look; even a child can look. . . . Look unto Me; I am sweatin' great drops of blood. Look unto Me; I am hangin' on the cross. Look unto Me; I am dead and buried. Look unto Me; I rise again. Look unto Me; I ascend to Heaven. Look unto Me; I am sittin' at the Father's right hand. O poor sinner, look unto Me! Look unto Me!"

After about ten minutes, "he was at the end of his tether," noted Spurgeon. "Then he looked at me under the gallery [which by the way, is still there, but has long since been boarded up], and I daresay, with so few present, he knew me to be a stranger. Just fixing his eyes on me, as if he knew all my heart, he said, ‘Young man, you look very miserable.' Well, I did, but I had not been accustomed to have remarks made from the pulpit on my personal appearance before. . . . He continued, ‘and you always will be miserable - miserable in life, and miserable in death - if you don't obey my text; but if you obey now, this moment, you will be saved.' . . . I saw at once the way of salvation. . . . Oh! I looked until I could almost have looked my eyes away. There and then the cloud was gone, the darkness had rolled away, and that moment I saw the sun; and I could have risen that instant, and sung with the most enthusiastic of them, of the precious blood of Christ, and the simple faith which looks alone to Him. Oh, that somebody had told me this before, ‘Trust Christ, and you shall be saved.' Yet it was, no doubt, all wisely ordered, and now I can say -

‘E'er since by faith I saw the stream

Thy flowing wounds supply,

Redeeming love has been my theme,

And shall be till I die.'"

Who would have expected that life-giving, sin-cleansing, soul-redeeming grace could be found in that little chapel? Who would have expected that God might use the solemn words of an incredibly simple and stammering man?

Grace cares little of where it is needed. It simply goes and saves and delivers and sanctifies. God doesn't need a spacious sanctuary or multi-media technology or cutting edge sound equipment. His grace is sovereign and not the least concerned about the surroundings in which it does its work.

Make no mistake about it. On that day the breath of God blew and a blizzard turned aside a searching young soul into an out-of-the-way chapel. That same breath confined a minister to his home and stirred an uneducated layman to ascend a pulpit. And that same, saving breath brought life to the dead, dry bones of a fifteen year old boy. And we are all the better for it. Spurgeon too.

Sam

(All quotations are taken from C. H. Spurgeon: Autobiography, Volume 1: The Early Years, 1834-1859 [The Banner of Truth Trust, `1973], pp. 79-96.)

The Pentecostal and Charismatic movements have witnessed a progressive move during the course of the last century toward embracing and empowering women at all levels of spiritual authority and ministry (an insightful commentary on the history of this question is found in the article by R. M. Griffith and D. Roebuck, "Women, Role of" in The New International Dictionary of Pentecostal and Charismatic Movements, Stanley M. Burgess, Editor [Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2002], 1203-09). Today, Complementarianism is decidedly a minority view among those who believe in the continuation of all spiritual gifts in the life of the church.

Charisma magazine, the flagship publication of the Pentecostal-Charismatic world, has repeatedly defended Egalitarianism and actively promotes the ministries of several high profile women such as Joyce Meyer, Paula White, Marilyn Hickey, Gloria Copeland, Juanita Bynum, and Cindy Jacobs, just to mention a few. J. Lee Grady, Charisma's Editor, has himself written a defense of Egalitarianism in a book with the intentionally inflammatory title, Ten Lies the Church Tells Women: How the Bible has been misused to keep women in spiritual bondage (Lake Mary, FL: Charisma, 2000, 220 pp.).

Those within the mainstream Word of Faith movement, as well as most advocates of the so-called "health and wealth gospel," are typically vocal Egalitarians. It almost goes without saying that among the thousands of independent charismatic churches most would endorse the ordination of women to the role of senior pastor in the local church.

However, there are a few exceptions, the most notable of which would be Sovereign Grace Ministries, under the capable leadership of C. J. Mahaney (who serves on the Board of CBMW). I should also mention New Frontiers and its leader, Terry Virgo, who have now planted more than 500 churches, primarily in the U.K. together with an increasing number in the U.S. (their churches are now found on five continents).

Grace Churches International, based in North Carolina, embraces more than 300 churc