Count the Patience of Our Lord as Salvation

Count the Patience of Our Lord as Salvation.  “I hate wait,” said Inigo, the inimitable character in The Princess Bride (Willian Goldman, 1973). I think it is safe to say that we all “hate wait,” but especially our daughter-in-law who is in her second week past her baby’s projected due date. Today, she gets dibs on hating the waiting, and tomorrow, too, if applicable! What happens when we wait, though, is an indispensable part of our spiritual development. If we never have to wait, then our faith would be flat. Waiting becomes spiritual texture and strength.

Waiting is good and it produces goodness. Waiting is not hateful for God or hate-filled for us. Waiting is part of the Lord’s good recipe for us to be “conformed to the image of his Son” (Rom. 8:29). The whole creation along with us is agonizingly waiting, “groan[ing] inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies” (Rom. 8:23). “We wait for it with patience” (Rom. 8:25). Waiting is part of the wanting.

More than our feelings though, our attitude most affects our waiting. God’s patience does not imply his reluctance to answer our prayers. It is quite the opposite. Wait is an answer to prayer, as solidly as any Yes or No! The waiting forces us to focus on what we think about God and his care for us while we are waiting. It is a very cerebral aspect of spiritual maturity, but essential, nonetheless.

Peter connected a statement about patience and waiting to a command about patience and waiting during a time when his readers were tempted to perceive the Lord’s delay in intervention during their persecution as the Lord’s preoccupation somewhere else. “The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance … [but] count the patience of our Lord as salvation” (2 Pet. 3:9, 15). He doesn’t care, says the doubter. He isn’t able, says the scoffer. He is bringing all to repentance including me, says the waiter.

Counting is both an action of ascribing the what and why of waiting (vs. 9) and an attitude of interpreting the how and where of waiting within God’s sovereign purposes (vs. 15). But mostly, waiting submits the when of waiting under the who of God. Who is God during our waiting? He is patient. He is good. He is present. He is strong. He is unchanging. If we count God’s patience as his “slowness” to keep his word, then we miss its gift (vs. 9). If we count God’s patience as his “salvation,” then we receive its gift. Transforming our attitude is the work of waiting. Strengthening our trust is the purpose of waiting.

Will we trust God in our in-between spaces with our in-between phases? Will we entrust our waiting to God who is patient? “Therefore, let those who suffer according to God's will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good” (1Pe 4:19). Our attitude affects our worship.

Guard the Good Deposit

Guard the Good Deposit. The Apostle Paul and Timothy shared a special bond which Paul described as a spiritual father/son relationship. Paul likely shared the same bond with Silas, Titus, Epaphroditus, Luke, and the others mentioned in his epistles, but more of what he wrote to Timothy has been preserved than to the other protégés. He wrote of Timothy to Timothy: “my beloved and faithful son in the Lord” (1 Cor. 4:17), “my true child in the faith” (1 Tim. 1:2), and “my beloved child” (2 Tim. 1:2).

A native of Lystra, the notorious place where Paul was stoned and left for dead (Acts 14:19), Timothy’s mother (Eunice) and grandmother (Lois) were likely converted during or shortly after Paul’s first missionary journey through southern Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey). When Paul returned to Lystra on his second missionary journey a few years later, he recruited young Timothy to join his company of itinerant missionaries (Acts 16:1-5). In a relatively short span of time, Timothy was ordained and installed as the bishop of Ephesus (1 Tim. 1:3, 18).

In the two letters written to Timothy in the New Testament, Paul spoke of the gospel in terms of a treasure that had been entrusted to him. “In accordance with the gospel of the glory of the blessed God with which I have been entrusted” (1 Tim. 1:11). As the word entrusted conveys, God placed into Paul’s stewardship “the pearl of great value” (Matt. 13:46). But Paul did not, as Jesus had described, “light a lamp and put it under a basket” (Matt. 5:15). Instead, Paul guarded the gospel by entrusting it again to the next generation of disciple-makers. “This charge I entrust to you, Timothy” (1 Tim. 1:18). “O Timothy, guard the deposit entrusted to you” (1 Tim. 6:20). Deposit and entrust are forms of the same word.

Although the gospel proceeds from human to human, it is God alone who is the guarantor of the gospel. “I am convinced that he is able to guard until that Day what has been entrusted to me” (2 Tim. 1:12). “By the Holy Spirit who dwells within us, guard the good deposit entrusted to you” (2 Tim. 1:14). Finally, Paul encouraged Timothy to do what he had done with the gospel, to entrust it again further and wider. “What you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses, entrust to faithful men who will be able to teach others also” (2 Tim. 2:2). Thus, the best strategy for guarding the good deposit is giving the gospel away. 

Remember

Remember. In every quadrant of American society, even internationally, we are called to remember the tragedy of the 9/11 attacks and the heroism that those attacks ignited. Remembering is good and proper. “Give honor to whom honor is due” (Rom. 13:7).

The act of remembering, however, is not a purely mental exercise. Merely mentally regurgitating a fact is, in fact, the opposite of remembering. Thinking, Oh right, today is 9-11 but then carrying on as normal, functionally describes the act of forgetting more than remembering! Remembering elicits an appropriate change based on the event or truth remembered. Remembering therefore, in its truest form, is active, overt, and external.

Americans of a certain age can remember where they were when news reached them of the terror attacks on 9/11/2001. I left a meeting early to go home and hug my wife as we watched the second tower crumble. Many Americans went to donate blood. Some pastors opened their churches for extra prayer meetings with larger-than-usual crowds. Certain young men and women enlisted in the military on 9/11 because of 9/11.

In the Bible, when God remembered, he didn’t just recall a fact, he acted. He intervened; he restored. “But God remembered Noah and all the beasts and all the livestock that were with him in the ark. And God made a wind blow over the earth, and the waters subsided” (Gen. 8:1). “Then God remembered Rachel, and God listened to her and opened her womb” (Gen. 30:22). Joseph asked the cupbearer, who was imprisoned with him, “Only remember me, when it is well with you, and please do me the kindness to mention me to Pharaoh, and so get me out of this house … yet the chief cupbearer did not remember Joseph, but forgot him” (Gen. 40:14, 23). Remembering is active, or it is not remembering.

The last “remember” of Jesus’ earthly ministry came from the second thief’s cross. “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” (Luke 23:42). To this, Jesus did more than mentally note the conversation, he actively saved the soul. “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43). The last “remember” for Paul came in prison, chained but active! “Remember Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, the offspring of David, as preached in my gospel … therefore, I endure everything” (2 Tim. 2:8,10).

So then, yes, remember 9/11, but do so knowing that remembering involves action. 

Death Is Crushed to Death

Death Is Crushed to Death.  Occasionally, God weaves our problem within his solution to our problem. Ironic, yes, and certainly paradoxical, but not contradictory because God “cannot deny himself” (2 Tim. 2:17).

At times in the natural order of the universe, too, the problem itself becomes integral to its solution. For instance, the best substance to get lint out of the dryer’s lint trap is lint. Certain stickers will only unstick with the grip of the sticky side of the sticker itself. Don’t ask me how, but the smell of the smoke of an extinguished candle removes the smell of smoke in the room. Antibodies and antidotes derived from disease can cure disease. Our blood has properties that stop our bleeding. Our tears start processes that lessen our need to cry.

Biblically, God sometimes repurposes our problem within his remedy. For instance, God institutes his solution on a tree (Christ’s cross) to solve our problem with a tree (Adam’s tree). Christ’s crown of thorns was made from, but ultimately repealed, Adam’s curse of thorns. A holy meal (Lord’s Supper) replaces an unholy meal (forbidden fruit). Crooked Jacob was strengthened and straightened by taking on a limp. The indictment of sin spoken to guilty David, “You are the man” (2 Sam. 12:7), reverberates yet also evaporates at the presentation of the innocent Son of David by Pilate, “Behold the Man” (John 19:5). 

John Newton captured the paradox of grace in verse two of Amazing Grace: “‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear / And grace my fears relieved.” A better slavery to the best Master sets the captives free (John 8:36). Fear drives out fear. Death defeats death. “When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: ‘Death is swallowed up in victory.’ ‘O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?’”(1 Cor. 15:54-55).

 

It is not death to die

To leave this weary road

And join the saints who dwell on high

Who’ve found their home in God

— Henri Malan (1787-1864), translated by George Bethune (1847)