Tag Archives: Dr. Ron Frost

The Great Adventure

Note: In this entry I’m repeating parts of an earlier entry (8 May 17) with a slightly different take that comes from a closer look at Exodus 17. Both are about ‘connecting dots’ … I hope it’s not a distraction!

Which life adventure is the best of all options? Would you think of climbing Mount Everest; or flying on a Virgin Galactic space-plane; or being featured on a television reality show where you’re given five million dollars to spend in just five days?

Or, even better, try this. Embrace God as your one and only God for the rest of your life.

I reflected on the adventure we have with God as I explored Exodus 17 for a sermon. The chapter has two parts. First, God directed Israel to camp at Rephidim where they didn’t find any water—and they complained accordingly. And, second, the Amalekites appeared—the first of a series of hostile meetings—as dangerous raiders who attacked Israel.

A pair of features is seen in both episodes: a desperate need; and the staff of Moses. The text tells us it was the same staff “with which you struck the Nile” earlier in the trip.

God met the first obvious need—for water—by sending Moses to strike a rock with the staff. And he gave Moses a personal assurance, “I will stand before you,” in the process. Moses obeyed and the rock spilled out enough water to meet all their needs.

God met the second need by telling Moses to take and hold the same staff above his head while sending out some fighters to face the Amalekites. It was a daylong skirmish and Israel’s men had success for as long as Moses held his hands and the staff in the air—but things went badly whenever he took a break. So he relied on two aids to help hold his arms up and the battle was won. What did hands-up-in-the-air mean? The text tells us it represented dependence: “A hand upon the throne of the LORD!” (v.16).

What is the lesson for the day? In Deuteronomy, Moses told Israel it was God, who “led you through the great and terrifying wilderness, with its fiery serpents and scorpions and thirsty ground where there was no water, who brought you water out of the flinty rock, who fed you in the wilderness with manna that your fathers did not know, that he might humble you and test you, to do you good in the end” (Dt. 8:15-16).

God, in other words, had lots of good things in store for Israel: wheat, honey, pomegranates, figs, and more! But first they had some basic training to go through.

The problem God addressed with this desert training was Israel’s set of bad spiritual habits. They had been slaves in Egypt for more than 400 years. They were poorly treated by their Egyptian taskmasters—simply seeking to survive—and were often humiliated in order for the Egyptians to maintain caste distinctions. So Israelites felt unloved, unhappy, and unresponsive. They no longer remembered the lessons of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who were all humbled by circumstances at times, but were ultimately blessed by God.

So the forefathers knew what it was like to have Yahweh as God—he loved them and watched over them. The offspring, on the other hand, grew up with Egyptian taskmasters who used them and abused them. So they often reacted to God like he was an evil Egyptian boss, ready to hurt them if they didn’t measure up. So their challenging questions to Moses came from their harsh training: “Why did you bring us up out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and our livestock with thirst?” (17:3).

If they had only known Yahweh as a gracious and mighty God they would have seen this as an adventure. Imagine them saying, for instance, “O Lord, yesterday and today you showered us with this magical Manna—the bread of heaven! And now we need some water to go with it! But you already know that, so what do you have in mind?”

We know that’s a proper response because God told Moses to bring out the staff he had already used more than a few times on behalf of Israel. It was the same staff that parted the Red Sea and rescued them from the powerful Egyptian army. So God was saying, in effect, “Get a clue, dear people! Arranging for water is easy.”

Yet even with these stories as reminders God finds hard-hearted skepticism among Christians. We’re too much like our unbelieving neighbors who insist on maintaining independence from God. Jesus taught, by contrast, that we’re meant to be dependent on him—“for apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).

Once we get this we’re able to start seeing every life-challenge as an invitation to another adventure with Christ. We know God loves us so he makes sure to bring about “good in the end.”

God’s plans, then, may not match what we have in mind—like mountain hikes, spaceflights, or money sprees—but why settle for less?


Working Together

Russ, my stepfather, struggled with Parkinson’s related tremors in his last five years of life. Near the end he couldn’t eat without help, or handle his phone, or use a keyboard. He knew what he wanted his hands to accomplish, but his body betrayed him.

His struggles were like many churches today. The ultimate head of the church, Jesus, knows what he’s doing but his body parts aren’t always responsive. In some cases it may be immaturity—with weak connections—and in others it may be worse: a dead limb.

Let’s recall Paul here. “Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love” (Eph. 4:15-16).

We see here how every member of the body is to speak truth motivated by love. Growth and “building up” is also stirred by love. The product is growth. Paul presumed this coordination operates by the Spirit’s presence in believers. Earlier in Ephesians 4 he wrote of the “worthy” Christian life as one that maintains “the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” because there is “one body and one Spirit.”

The Spirit’s work in making a “new creation” is basic to Paul’s thought. In Ephesians 2:1-8, in fact, he speaks of God’s grace as the work of raising up those who were once “dead in the trespasses and sins”—who had once been moved by “the spirit that now at work in the sons of disobedience.” So that saving faith is a Spirit versus spirit struggle. People, once separated from God, now begin to respond to Christ’s love. Paul celebrates this at the end of Ephesians 3.

And this reality of the Spirit working in a newborn or recreated person means that Christ’s life starts to emerge in that person. He or she starts to “walk worthy” of Christ. In Adam the common human impulse is self-ward: an ambition to pursue personal security and success. In Christ the new instinct is increasingly selfless and outward: looking to Christ and to building up others.

But what’s the measure of outward-looking growth? Paul’s inspired goal in 4:13 is for us to be like Jesus by coming “to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.” And the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians reveals Christ’s own character: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

As our family watched Russ fade we visited doctors and tried new medications. Our hope was that something would reverse the course of his Parkinson’s tremor. That his mind could once again direct his arms and hands. But it never happened.

In the church, by contrast, Christ’s Spirit can still stir spiritual transformation, even when the head hasn’t been able to connect with all the body parts. He does this without violating our human personality. Instead he works in us through a Spirit-to-spirit ministry by sharing himself with us—coming “alongside” us—as the Spirit pours out the love of the Father-Son communion in us. In the old days this was called a revival.

This, in turn, sets up natural spiritual bonds among believers. The Spirit, pouring out God’s love in hearts, coordinates the Christian body. Jesus anticipated this in his earthly ministry as he told his apostles—immediately after Judas Iscariot, a dead limb, went out to betray him—“By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). Judas wasn’t responsive to Christ’s love, but the remaining eleven were. And each went on to different places to share that love with the world.

This bodybuilding love was also the measure of authentic faith in Christ’s great prayer of John 17—“The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me” (verses 21-22).

Do we have a practical application here?

Yes. I grieved for Russ, especially as the medications failed. And it’s obvious that the church has its own Parkinson-like limitations. Paul spoke of this in 2 Timothy 3 by warning that some in the church have the “form of religion but not its power.” Jesus offered a cure for this when he prayed “that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me…”

So church health isn’t so much a product of good pastoral management or nicely shaped preaching. Instead it’s a fruit of Christ’s spreading love. Whenever and wherever Christ is “in them”—in any group of followers—the miracle of unity starts to coordinate church values and actions. The body builds itself up in love.

So the Spirit of God takes the Word of God to make the Church of God. It’s a spreading goodness—a life of powerful communion—that invites others to join in.