And Lead Us Not into Temptation

And Lead Us Not into Temptation.  “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name” (Matt. 6:9), is the famous beginning of the Lord’s Prayer. It staggers the mind to calculate how many times that prayer has been prayed since Christ’s seismic reordering of practical righteousness in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7; Luke 6, 11). However, the ending of the Lord’s Prayer has been consistently confusing, “And lead us not into temptation” (Matt. 6:13; Luke 11:4). The words themselves are not the confusing part of the prayer, but its theology for navigating temptation. Is God at all complicit in setting us up for moral failure? Absolutely not! We are instructed very clearly that God tempts no one. “Let no one say when he is tempted, "I am being tempted by God," for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one” (James 1:13). We carry the raw ingredients for temptation around with us; sin does not ever originate with God (1 John 1:5). So then, why pray “lead us not into temptation”?

Principally, there are two keywords to interpret and interconnect: “lead” and “temptation.” Yet the definition of temptation unlocks the mystery of God’s lead. Temptation and testing share the same Greek word. Temptation is clearly negative in tone; testing is clearly positive. God doesn’t lead us into a temptation, but into the test where temptation waits. It is a huge distinction! In this sense, the Spirit drove Jesus into the wilderness “to be tempted by the devil” (Matt. 4:1). God led Jesus into the wilderness, but the tempter brought the temptation to the Son of God. In another similar verse, “Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Matt. 26:41). Temptation comes from the world, the flesh, and the devil, but God declares “the testing of your faith produces steadfastness” (James 1:3).

A masterful explanation given by D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones ties up the loose pieces. “We are asking that we should never be led into a situation where we are liable to be tempted by Satan. It does not mean that we are dictating to God what He shall or shall not do. God does test His children, and we must never presume to tell God what He is or is not to do. He knows that we need much training in our preparation for glory. But though it does not mean that we are to dictate to God, it does mean that we may request of Him, that if it be in accordance with His holy will, He should not lead us into positions where we can be so easily tempted, and where we are liable to fall. It means that we should request Him to preserve us from this, and not to lead us in this way. This is what our Lord meant when He said to His disciples at the end, ‘Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation’ (Matt. 26:14)’” (D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Studies in the Sermon on the Mount, p. 349).

Flee These Things

Flee These Things.  The Continental Army, led by General George Washington, had suffered a lopsided loss at the Battle of Brooklyn. They found themselves pinned between the East River and the world’s superpower of that era, Britain. Under the leadership of British General Sir William Howe, the Redcoats were preparing a siege that would annihilate the overpowered and cornered Patriots. But that evening, August 29, 1776, Washington adapted. Lighting but then abandoning their campfires, the soldiers retreated toward the river under the cover of night. There, with skillful help from a regiment of fishermen from Massachusetts who muffled the noise of their oars with rags, Washington began ferrying 9,000 soldiers and all their equipment to safety under Howe’s very nose. When daylight arrived, though the maneuver was not yet complete, thick fog rolled in, preventing British cannons from sinking Washington’s makeshift flotilla. By retreating across the East River from Brooklyn to Manhattan that night, the Americans survived to fight another day and eventually won the War of Independence. New York was not the goal; independence was the goal. Sometimes a retreat is progress.

However, organizing and executing a large-scale retreat is one of the most difficult tasks a military leader can attempt. Without discipline and calm, the soldiers could easily scatter, thus alerting the enemy. Without leadership and cohesion, the soldiers could also easily lose their formation, thus trampling over their compatriots in a panic to escape. Retreating requires self-control in the moment and trust in the plan. Retreating is the pursuit of a better goal.

Joseph, a prince of Israel who became a slave in Egypt, might have reached the same conclusion as Washington: sometimes a retreat is progress. Sold by his jealous brothers to slavers, Joseph was sold again to Potiphar, an officer of Pharaoh (Gen. 39:1). After Joseph earned Potiphar’s trust, Potiphar’s wife repeatedly attempted to seduce Joseph. In fact, she commanded it! But each time, though he could not flee the scene completely, Joseph fled her pursuit (Gen. 39:12, 13, 15, 18). She finally caught Joseph’s garment and repeated her command: “But he left his garment in her hand and fled and got out of the house” (Gen. 39:12). Potiphar’s wife quickly changed her tactic with Joseph’s tunic in hand, accusing him of attempted rape (Gen. 39:15). Despite being thrown into prison, Joseph’s retreat proved to be progress. Escaping Potiphar’s house was not the goal; pleasing God was the goal. After retreating from Potiphar’s wife, Joseph soon became Potiphar’s boss (Gen. 41:43).

The very word, “flee,” that summarizes Joseph’s ultimate victory over temptation, is used by Paul several times in the New Testament. “Flee sexual immorality” (1 Cor. 6:18). “Flee idolatry” (1 Cor. 10:14). “Flee these things” (e.g., the love of money; 1 Tim. 6:11). “Flee youthful passions” (2 Tim. 2:22). Sometimes a retreat is progress toward a better goal: godliness. 

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part Four)

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part Four).  Only a handful of verses speak even vaguely about leading a group through its spiritual development stages. The author of Hebrews nearly scolds the Jerusalem church for its prolonged immaturity: “For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child” (Heb. 5:12-13).

The Apostle John seems to indicate that there are several stages concurrent within each congregation: little children, children, young men, and fathers. “I am writing to you, little children, because your sins are forgiven for his name's sake. I am writing to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I am writing to you, young men, because you have overcome the evil one. I write to you, children, because you know the Father. I write to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I write to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the evil one” (1 John 2:12-14).

If the seven churches in Revelation are allowed to be somewhat allegorical, in addition to being actual and historical congregations, then each church situation could conceivably represent a different developmental stage: Christ can technically be in a church but no longer that church’s “first love” (Rev. 2:4). A church might be weakened due to its doctrinal confusion (Rev. 2:14-16) or corrupted due to its moral degradation (Rev. 2:20-21). A church may nurse a reputation for life while it is dead (Rev. 3:1). A church could be victorious despite being viciously opposed (Rev. 3:8). Christ is nauseated by the type of church that is so accommodating to the world that it has become non-distinct, neither hot nor cold (Rev. 3:16). Especially ironic, Christ could be functionally outside the church that he established with his blood, knocking at the door for re-entry (Rev. 3:20). Taken together, a loose spectrum somewhat emerges for a congregational lifespan, ascending from young and passionate, to growing though tested, to established yet cool, then descending from codified yet corrupt, to orderly yet compromised, to reputational yet dead, to institutional and unchristian. Congregations come and go, but of the church Christ said, “I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Matt. 16:18).

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part Three)

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part Three).  Of all the sociological models of human development, none are sufficient at depicting the spiritual growth of a Christian. Whether the indigenous Wheel of Life model (Maiden, Mother, Mage, Crone), Aristotle’s Three Stages of Man (Youth, Prime of Life, Old Age), Hippocrates’ Seven Stages of Life which Shakespeare put into As You Like It (Infant, Schoolboy, Lover, Soldier, Judge, Pantaloon, Second Childhood), or Erik Erikson’s standardized Stages of Psychosocial Development (Childhood, Adolescence, Adulthood), all these theories of development are linear, flattened, and intentionally non-religious. However, a Christian’s individual spiritual growth and a congregation’s collective spiritual growth are progressive and participatory, though not precisely formulaic.

Nevertheless, a faint sketch emerges in the Bible of the spiritual growth of individual Christians and local congregations. With some effort, landmarks and causeways on the spiritual map to maturity appear. “A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully trained will be like his teacher” (Luke 6:40). “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways” (1 Cor. 13:11). “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor. 3:18). “So then, the law was our guardian until Christ came, in order that we might be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian, for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith” (Gal. 3:24-26). “[Build] up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children” (Eph. 4:12-14). “Have nothing to do with irreverent, silly myths. Rather train yourself for godliness” (1 Tim. 4:7).

The training vocabulary that Paul lifts from the culture and repurposes for discipleship (Greek, gymnazo, like English, gymnasium) is a fixture in the Greco-Roman world. The ancients valued highly physical training. However, Paul speaks of a different kind of training at a different kind of gymnasium. “For while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come” (1 Tim. 4:8).

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part Two)

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part Two).  Jack Nicklaus, affectionately nicknamed “The Golden Bear” by his fans, was the consummate golfer in his generation, perhaps his century. Inducted into golf’s Hall of Fame in 1974, he toured professionally for over 30 years, winning 117 PGA tournaments, including 18 Major tournaments, several times winning at the Masters, PGA Championship, US Open, and Open Championship. 

I’ve never played a single hole in my life, yet I still know about Jack Nicklaus and his humility. In 1950, at 10 years old in Columbus, Ohio, Nicklaus began his mentorship with golf instructor Jack Grout. In 1962 when Nicklaus turned professional, and every year after throughout his legendary career, he would return to his mentor, Jack Grout, before the PGA season started and say, “Teach me how to play golf.” The swing, the grip, the aim, the ball—Nicklaus already knew and practiced these foundational elements—yet he approached the game afresh annually as if he were a newbie. Nicklaus was always training.

Nicklaus’ story looms large in my mind as we stand at the new church year, focusing not on his game but on his mindset. “Teach me how to follow Jesus,” could be our prayer of convocation, similar to David’s mindset when he prays: “Lead me to the rock that is higher than I” (Psa. 61:2); “Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths” (Psa. 25:4).

I am convinced that we do not need something new, sophisticated, or sensational. Everything tried in the last three decades that has been marketed as new, sophisticated, and sensational has ended up on the thrift store shelf, once mass-produced only to be discarded and discounted to twenty-five cents for paperback and fifty cents for hardback. (Just think: The Prayer of Jabez or Left Behind). Instead of that, and though we have never left, we need to return to the timeless, changeless cross of Christ, praying, “Teach me how to follow Jesus.”

Following Jesus impacts at least these few categories: we need to know Christ deeply, love God and others authentically, and serve the world purposefully. Christians in every location and throughout all generations have walked this humble pathway to the cross of Christ; a metaphorical pilgrimage to our spiritual origin and a lens to envision our spiritual destination.

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part One)

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part One).  Baseball is calm, swimming is smooth, tennis is polite, soccer is theater, but in the South, football is king. Every year from September to December (and if you’re fortunate, then January, too), all Friday nights are high school football game nights. Saturdays are college football tailgate events. Sundays are professional-level grid-iron contests. Although football is arguably a silly game—since pads are required because the human body was not designed to collide at full speed into another human body, since oxygen is available after every play, and since there are far more timeouts than touchdowns—it requires intense physical training.

Football did not exist in Bible times, but other sports did. If ancient citizens were blessed with enough time between fighting actual wars and were rich enough to buy from other people’s farm labor, they frequently competed in running, wrestling, boxing, and other athletics that we would probably classify as Track and Field. Sports were very popular in the first century, so physical training was very common. The ancients even built dedicated arenas for training called gymnasiums, which we obviously carried forward into our modern setting.

The Bible, especially Paul’s letters, uses athletic imagery with largely positive overtones. One such passage where athletic imagery is heavy is 1 Timothy 4:6-8, but Paul mixes his wide appreciation for sport with a sharp parody for the gospel opponents who have strangely mixed rigorous training (though not exclusively athletic training) with religion. They were called the Ascetics. Ascetical beliefs (wrongly) reasoned that severe physical treatment of the body, which was assumed to be evil, could impart real benefit for the soul, which was assumed to be good. Elements of asceticism—strict fasting, certain abstinences, dietary restrictions, extreme frugality, and even self-harm—could be found inside major philosophical camps such as the Stoics, Epicureans, Pythagoreans, Neo-Platonists, as well as Jewish mystics and early Christian monastics. Yet, Paul fought to keep the gospel distinct from all asceticism.

“Being trained in the words of the faith and of the good doctrine that you have followed, have nothing to do with irreverent, silly myths. Rather train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come” (1 Tim. 4:6-8). Preaching the gospel and teaching sound doctrine contrasts with promoting irreverent “speculations” (1 Tim. 1:10) and promulgating silly myths (any tradition or narrative that is outside and contrary to the Bible). Paul uses sarcasm to cut down ascetic practices, which massively overemphasize “bodily training,” by calling their main doctrine little, slight, with only marginal benefit. Instead of overestimating the body, “Train yourself for godliness [which] is of value in every way” (1 Tim. 4:8).

Salt and Light (Part Three)

Salt and Light (Part Three).  In the contiguous United States, Big Bend National Park in southwest Texas is the least polluted area in terms of ambient light. It is classified as a Dark Sky Reserve. On the 1 to 9 numeric Bortle Scale of Dark-Sky, only a handful of places in the “Lower 48” earn a rating of 1, the darkest measurement, so dark that the Milky Way itself casts shadows on Earth. Goldsboro, NC, scores 5.5; Raleigh is 8.3. As expected, New York City, Chicago, and Los Angeles each peg at 9 where the dark-sky rating maxes out.

Except for Rome in 133 bc which was the first city in history to reach a million inhabitants, a feat not repeated until London reached the million-mark in 1801, the entire ancient world would have been rated as Bortle 1, a completely dark night sky. Antiquity’s best lamps would have been dim at best. The darker the environment, the more impactful the light is.

It is conceivable that, in the historical past, any light source in a direct sightline during nighttime, whether campfire or candle, would have been visible for miles. An elevated light source would have been a looming, welcoming beacon for travelers. Most early cities in the Mediterranean Rim were elevated, and most walls and houses would have been constructed with white limestone. The white surfaces, which help reflect the heat during the day, would also reflect the moon and stars during the night, making the city to stand-out against the darkness like a nearly luminous landmark. Likewise, the white limestone construction could help fill the inside of those houses by diffusing the small light cast by fist-sized, clay lamps.

Alluding strongly back to Isaiah 42:6 and 49:6, Jesus grabs this light imagery as he teaches the people about the large impact that individual godliness has on its community. “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house” (Matt. 5:14-15).

Visibility is the point; a little light goes a long way in the dark as a city set on a hill and as a lamp set upon a lampstand. But such visibility is for others to see better, not for the limelight to be seen better by others. The purpose of godliness in the form of good works is that others will see and celebrate God, the true source of all the light reflected by his people scattered about in society. “In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16). Thus, being light in the world is worship of God and service to neighbor.