“And Jacob was left alone; and
there wrestled a man with him until the breaking of the day. ... And he said, Let me go, for
the day breaketh. And
he said, I will not let thee go, except thou bless me.” -- Genesis 32:24-26
On Friday August 16 my
brother Stan drove me over to McNairy County, an hour and a half
west of here beyond the Tennessee River, to visit some family
graveyards.
Now genealogies are like
slide shows – everybody has one and nobody wants to see another one,
especially not yours.
But bear with me, dear reader, and presently I will unravel a
meditation that I hope will calm your fears and repay your
effort.
MOVING WEST – WITH
GRAVEYARDS
The Sanders story typifies
upper South families.
After the Revolutionary war they moved from North Carolina
first to east Tennessee, then to West Tennessee, and some further
west still. But finding
their graves was no easy matter. In cemetery after cemetery,
we couldn’t find our ancestors’ graves, even though we knew they
were buried there. After the War Between the States their poverty
forced them to use wooden grave markers, now long vanished without
loving hands to replace them.
One of the cemeteries lay
barely across the line in Mississippi. Stan pulled up on the side
of the road and pointed to an overgrown grove about 60 yards from
the road.
“That’s it,” he
said.
“That’s what?” I asked.
“The Sanders cemetery.” The closer we got the more I
could discern it. A
circle of large trees was overgrown with sawbriers and saplings
thicker than your thumb.
Inside the grove there was one small fenced in plot and three
or four gravestones.
The only other evidences of burials were the regular
depressions in the ground.
From there we drove back
toward Michie. Just
before we reached that crossroads, Stan turned off into what looked
like a driveway into a sapling thicket. “Look for the graveyard,” he
said.
At last, there among the
thick stand of saplings, I spied a graveplot fence. It lay no more than 750
yards from the spot where my great-great-grandfather’s house once
stood. It was so
completely overgrown, however, that you could only have found it by
the most diligent search.
There were several marble tombstones, all dated before
1861. Before that year
tombstones were a
luxury people could afford, I reckon.
WHAT ABOUT THE
COVENANT?
Later those cemeteries kept
on eating on me. Our
earliest known ancestor (I learned just about five years ago) was
one Lawrence Sanders or Saunders, an Anglican minister burned at the
stake for the Reformation in 1555.[1]
“Precious in the sight of
the LORD is the death of his saints.” (Psalm 116:15) If God granted him so
glorious a death, then as far as we can judge from outward things,
surely he granted to him entry into the covenant of life, too. And if to him, then to his
children, and to their children.[2]
THE COVENANT IS
GENERATIONAL
That generational continuity lies
at the heart of the covenant.
“The LORD did not set his love upon you, nor choose you,
because ye were more in number than any people; for ye were the
fewest of all people:
but because the LORD loved you, and because he would keep the
oath which he had sworn unto your fathers, hath the LORD brought you
out with a mighty and, and redeemed you out of the house of bondmen,
from the hand of Pharaoh King of Egypt. Know therefore that the LORD
thy God, he is God, the faithful God, which keepeth covenant and
mercy with them that love him and keep his commandments to a
thousand generations; “[3]
BLESSINGS &
CURSES
Flowiing from such faithfulness to
God’s covenant, you would expect the God’s blessing to continue. In fact, it usually does
show up in generation after generation, multiplying and prospering,
devoted as far as we can tell to piety. That comes as no surprise,
for in this way God promises to deal with us – through families, over time,
not as individual burning brands snatched randomly out of the
fire.
Suddenly, however, this
family seems to wink out.
One of the most populous families in the county just
evaporated, but that didn’t bother me the most. What kept gnawing on me was
those cemeteries – those untended graves.
In July 1999 we had just
moved to the country and we threw a big house and land blessing
party. Jim Lord from
Utah happened to be in Atlanta then and drove all the way up, a five
hour trip. When he got
here he smiled at me and said, “I know one thing. When I die I want to be
buried in one of these Tennessee graveyards!” I had to laugh because I
knew exactly what he meant.
We pass hundreds of them along the road, meticulously tended,
faithfully clipped and trimmed, with headstones festooned with
fresh, cloth, or plastic flowers.
This assiduous, faithful
grave-tending is a Soutehrn tradition. Here’s one example from the
War Between the States. “When the Catholic Cemetery of [Savannah,
Georgia] was ordered [by the
Northern occupiers] to be levelled for useless breast works, our
ladies, widows, and orphans carried the bones of their dead in baskets, sheets, and boxes two miles, and kept
them in their houses
until places of interment secure from violation could be found. …
What an incident!
Imagine groups of women, young and old, learned and
unlearned, high and low … anxious to secure from desecration the
relics of those they loved, and then back again, bending under the
weight of their precious burdens.”[4]
How did my forebears come to
this, these untended graves?
Not the least curse in the Bible is to lie untended, food for
the fowls of the air.
Jeremiah pronounces a special curse on Judah: he bones of the kings and
princes and priests and all the people would be pulled out of their
graves and exposed naked
sky.[5]
NO PLACE
That fate forms part of the
curse of having no
place. “Fret not
thyself because of evildoers . . For yet a little while, and the
wicked shall not be; yea, thou shalt diligently consider his place,
and it shall not be.”[6] Even the place of the wicked will
disappear. The lot of
the godly is exactly the opposite. Their place on the land is
secure. “[T]hose that
wait upon the LORD, they shall inherit the earth… The meek shall
inherit the earth; and shall delight themselves in the abundance of
peace.”[7]
To lack a place on the earth
– to be cut off from the land – is an especially terrible curse, a
sort of annihilation.
Even the despised children of Lot, Ammon and Moab were
assured their own place upon the earth.[8] At the same time God
instructs them to utterly destroy the kings of Bashan and Hesbon, Og
and Sihon, as well as
their wives and little ones. After that, Og & Sihon
become a byword for those whom God has rooted out of the
earth. The children of
Lot’s incestuous union were given a place, but not Og &
Sihon We see this same
concern for land mirrored in the history of the church. As it spread out, it
established the parish
system. It envisioned
parcelling out the whole earth for the gentle government of
Christ.
What place have we? If we’re lucky, a parking place with our
name. Or, more likely,
the name of our office that entitles us to our own parking place –
CEO or CFO or CIO or “visitor.” Nearly all of us have been
driven clean off the land.
But how do we establish a
place? Does all the
Scriptures say about the land mean nothing? Should it all be
spiritualized away, or is it all meant literally? Is “our place” just any old
place where we put our foot and stand as mortgagor? Is it enough simply to buy
land and put down roots?
Doesn’t our relation to a certain place, a certain parcel of
land, act out and embody
the spiritual reality of Christ’s kingdom?
What was the promise to
Abraham, the covenant?
Land. Children. The love of God
himself.
From the beginning God
stated the promise in terms of land, as if that summed up the
fullness of the covenant.
“Get out of thy country …unto a land I will show thee.”[9] “And the Lord appeared to
Abraham and said, unto thy seed will I give this land.”[10] ( [And by the way, the land
was in the South –
Genesis 12:9] “Lift up
now thine eyes, and look. . . For all the land which thou seest, to
thee will I give it, and to thy seed forever.”[11]
Although the land is not the
exclusive blessing of the covenant, still all those blessings –
wealth, riches, all earthly happiness, even children – are all
contained symbolically in this gift of land.
But the land is only a
symbol, a foretaste, of that greatest blessing of the
covenant, God’s gracious love:
“Fear not, Abram, I am thy shield, and they exceeding great
reward.”[12] Clearly
God’s love flows only out of himself, and not out of any merit of
Abram or his children.
Yet at the same time living in covenant with him is not passive, but demands a
certain active behaviour
from us. Not only must
we frame all our behaviour according to God’s law, but far greater
than that, we must form our hearts after his law, and we
must work that out in our lives.
After reciting the blessing
of the covenant in the hearing of the twelve tribes, Moses adds a
warning, “Only take heed to thyself and keep thy soul diligently,
lest thou forget the things which thine eyes have seen, and lest
they depart from thy heart all the days of thy life; but teach them
to thy sons, and thy son’s sons.”[13] Lay hold the covenant. “And if you break my
covenant, not only will I take the land away from you, I will also take you
away from the land.”[14] Lay hold the covenant.
We ought carefully to
observe that this commandment does not form some sort of exception, but recurs
throughout Scripture.
Although the context is always – from Abraham to Christ
– that the covenant
comes to us through the unmerited grace of God, yet God always
accompanies that offer of grace with a demand that we lay hold the
covenant. “Keep thy
heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life.”[15] The graciousness of
the covenant presents all the more reason to diligently lay hold on
it. This is repeated
throughout the scriptures with such frequency that it would weary
your attention to do more than mention a few of them in a
footnote.[16] While all these exhortations
carry the express or implied promise that God will graciously enable
us to perform, still
the exhortation to strive, to lay hold to the covenant with
all our might, remains.
What thwarted the covenant
my own family? Like the
Pharisees of old, they were born into the covenant. They had the knowledge and
benefit of it. But
something failed.
Something more was
required than land and birth.
What was it?
What warning does it make to us?
They had to make the covenant theirs. They had to lay hold on the
covenant.
Before all these other things
– a place for themselves and their children – could be added to them
they had to abandon all other loves. Even though one is born into the covenant outwardly, yet only those
belong to the covenant who belong to it inwardly. “For they are not all
Israel, which are of Israel; neither, because they are the seed of
Abraham, are they all children: but, in Isaac shall they seed be
called. That is, they
which are the children of the flesh, these are not the children of
God: but the children
of the promise are counted for the seed.”[17]
So Christ preached to the
Jews of his day, born into the covenant: “Bring forth therefore
fruits worthy of repentance, and begin not to say within yourselves,
We have Abraham to our father:
for I say unto you, that God is able of these stones to raise
up children unto Abraham.
And now also the axe is laid unto the root of the trees: every tree therefore which
bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the
fire.”[18]
I understand that we are
saved by grace, that no good deeds of ours go before us to win God’s
favour. But at the same
time the Scriptures keep on urging and demanding that we live a
certain way. We
have to lay hold on the
covenant. We have
to bestir ourselves to
make progress in the grace of God, to improve the gift. Paul expresses perfectly
this tension between the utterly sovereign gracious work of God in
us and our absolute responsibility to improve the gift. “But by the
grace of God I am what I am:
and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; but
I laboured more abundantly than they all: yet not I, but the grace of
God which was with me.”[19] And in another place he
says, “[Since we have
received such great grace in Christ and have before us the example
of his humiliation],
work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. For it is God which worketh
in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure.”[20]
Providentially, as I was
thinking on these things, we came in our lectionary to the Twelfth
Sunday in Trinity. The
readings appointed were Isaiah 56:1-7, a prophecy of God’s grace
extending out to the Gentiles; Psalm 67, a psalm exhorting the
Gentiles to worship God; Romans 11:13-32, and explanation of the
gentiles grafting into the kingdom and replacing the unbelieving
Jews, and Matthew 5:21-28, the Canaanite woman who begs a miracle
from Christ. Here is
what I discovered.
LAY HOLD OF THE
COVENANT
From these passages we ought
to notice two things.
The first is a great and high truth of doctrine, namely, that
in Christ the grace of God broadened out to embrace all
mankind. What had once
been reserved to the Jewish nation is now opened to all men, no
matter what their disabilities. Obviously we ought to infer
from that – as the Jews of Christ’s day could not – that any
boasting from us must be only in the grace of God, not in our own
merit.
And although this great and
high truth seems far off, it is not. It is not merely some
abstract truth like the nineteenth decimal place of pi that exists out there
without touching our daily lives. No, it lies close to us, it
comforts and instructs us.
How is that? First, the love of God –
reconciliation to the Father – is held out to all men. To make this crystal clear,
Isaiah includes “eunuchs and foreigners,” two classes of people whom
the Law specifically forbade to come into the tabernacle where God
was worshipped. From
their inclusion, we ought to infer that there is no impediment in us
– no sin, no lack, no disability – that can bar love of God. These readings further make
clear that God will work
in us – and we must work
in us – righteousness and justice. True religion, Isaiah shows
us, consist in keeping the first and second tables of the law, our
duties to God and man.
True religion demands self-denial.
What is the point of these
readings? That God will save all
those who call on him, but he saves them to holiness and
righteousness. You have
to grab hold of his covenant, and improve the gift.
In Isaiah 56 and Psalm 67 we
find a prophecy of the future outpouring of God’s grace on the whole
world in Christ, until the knowledge of God covers the earth as the
waters cover the sea.
In the Epistle Paul teaches us how we should understand that
grace. If we boast that
we have found favour where the Jews have lost favour, then that is
the same folly for which the Jews were rejected. Finally in the Gospel,
Matthew 15:21-28, we get a foretaste and example of that grace to
the Gentiles.
ISAIAH 56
Isaiah shows us what God
demands of us as soon as he holds out his grace: a change of heart and mind,
forsaking the world, and rising to heaven. We must grab hold of his
covenant and hold on!
“Thus saith the LORD, keep ye
judgement, and do justice:
for my salvation is near to come, and my righteousness to be
revealed.” What is
this? The order seems
reversed. We know that
God doesn’t save us because of any works of ours. Rather, he saves us out of
his free grace and pleasure.
But here that logical order is reversed, where he
commands first keep judgement and do
justice, and then see his salvation.
What does he mean by “justice
and judgement”? This is
the second table of the Law, all the commandments that teach us our
duty to oiur fellow men.
By implication that includes the First table of the law as
well, because the law is all one. You cannot do justice to
your neighbour unless you first love God with all your heart. The message here is, “Show
the fruits of repentance in your life.”
Why?
What reason does Isaiah give that
we ought to do that?
“For my salvation is
near, and my righteousness.” This is the reason, the
source and cause of all our righteousness. This is the reason our daily
Christian duty is to devote ourselves to newness of life. Our grateful response to
God’s grace is to draw near to him, to lay hold of his covenant, not
to let it go, and to keep on trying to get nearer to him. The nearer we draw, the more
his holiness excites us to holiness.
And vice versa. If you don’t draw near to
God, he won’t draw near to you. And since he offers us such
a great benefit and gift, surely we ought to make every effort to
draw near to him.
Isaiah next exhorts us to
“keep the Sabbath.”
Here I have bad news for those who want to use this solely as
a proof text for not working on the Lord’s Day. That is not the issue Isaiah
raises here. God does
not concern himself here with just this one thing in isolation, but
the whole of his
Law. The part – keeping
the Sabbath – stands for the whole law that honours him. Only by both tables of the
Law can we rightly regulate our lives. He demands from us earnest
self-denial to devote ourselves to his service.
Now in verse three Isaiah
opens out God’s grace to all men. The law excluded from Israel
foreigners and eunuchs, specifically by name. Can you imagine how this
must have astonished the Israelites hundreds of years before Christ
came. What? Foreigners and eunuchs, made
part of the people of God?
What is he talking about? What is the world coming
to? But through Isaiah
God is saying, “I will remove every obstacle to our salvation. Don’t
look at yourself! Look
only on my grace. Be
like Abraham who didn’t look at his own decayed body, or Sarah’s
dead womb, but rather looked at the promise of God. God promised Abraham that
his children would outnumber the sand on the seashore and the stars
in the heavens, and Abraham did not argue that the realities stood
in the way. No, he hoped above hope in
God’s promise.
Now through Isaiah God tells
the world that he will remove every disability and give those newly
included in his covenant “a better name.” That is, in Christ the grace
of God is so much clearer, so much more abundant, that we have a
higher dignity under Christ than believers under the Law. We have obtained a more
excellent name in Christ – indeed, an everlasting name.
Then Isaiah says that their
“burnt offerings and their sacrifices” will be acceptable (v. 9). He
speaks in the symbols of the times, because at that day the worship
of God consisted of such sacrifices. But today, after the
sacrifice of Christ has consummated sacrifice for all time, we no
longer observe those ceremonies. Now instead we offer to God
praises, thanksgivings, good works, and finally, ourselves. Look at the Epistle reading
for today. Everything
that Paul says in Chapter 11 leads to the conclusion that we find in
the first verse of Chapter 12:
“I beseech you therefore [that is, on the grounds of
everything I have already said above] brethren by the mercies of
God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy,
acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.” There it is. The sacrifice that God
requires of us is nothing less than all of us – our hearts and minds
and souls and bodies.
MATTHEW 15:21-28
In the Gospel reading we see
the beginning of grace flowing to the Gentiles. We also see a picture of how
that grace must be received, a picture so clear that it out to shame
the ungrateful and stiffnecked Jews of that day.
This woman is a gentile, a
Canaanite, and not instructed in the law. The Jews, although they had
the benefit of being born and raised in God’s covenant, were blind
and deaf to Christ. Now
here comes this Gentile – this dog – without instruction,
without the covenant, yet with whatever little knowledge she had,
she recognised Christ as the “Son of David.” She knew only a little, but
she laid hold of it with all the might of the little bit of faith
she had. She had heard
a bare word only, but it took root and flowered in her
heart.
What happens when she
approached Christ? He
ignored her. He didn’t
answer her a word. What
did she do? She
persevered in hope, and so we are taught. Christ refused to answer her
on purpose. It wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t that she spoke too
softly for him to hear.
He held his silence not to put out her faith,
but to fan it to flames.
And so he does with us, too. He may not answer when we
call the first time. Or
the second. Or the
third. He is fanning
our faith to flames. If
this Canaanite woman reacts this way to a tiny glimmer of the hope of Christ, then what
hope ought we to have, we who see Christ fully revealed?
Christ answers her in verse 24, “I am not sent
but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Well, that certainly
wouldn’t have encouraged her, but what did Christ mean? Did he mean that no Gentile
could ever enter the kingdom of God? Not at all. He is only saying, “Right
now, here at the present, my mission is to preach to the Jews first,
to deliver the Gospel to them first, because they first of all the
nations of the earth enjoyed the grace of God. Once I have preached to
them, once I have consummated the sacrifice that will reconcile all
men to my Father, then grace will flow out to all
mankind.”
What did the Canaanite woman
do? Did she frown and
turn away, throw up her hands, and say, “Well, I guess that’s
it. I guess he doesn’t
have time for me.” No, not by any means. “She came and worshiped
him.” She laid hold of
no other hope. She kept
on believing in his kindness.
She was not intimidated or dissuaded by her own inabilities
or her own filthiness.
She yielded to no obstacle. She would not be torn from
her faith in Christ, small though it was.
And how does Christ
answer? “It is not meet
to take the children’s bread and to cast it to dogs.’ Whom did he mean by
“dogs”? The woman, and
she knew it. But he
also means the Jews of his own day, and us as well, because all
pride of flesh must fall before the grace of God.
The woman is not
deterred. She doesn’t
care if she is a dog, she
has grasped God’s promise, and will accept gratefully whatever he gives. Why? Because she knew that whatever he gave, even the
crumbs of his grace would be better than anything she could
imagine.
Christ shut the door to her,
but not to exclude her from his grace. Rather, he shut her so that
by exercising her faith, she would force her way in. That sounds rude to us,
but then, we are lukewarm at best, or cold at worst. Above all else, this woman
desired the grace of Christ, and if she had to bang down the door
and kick it in, she would do it.
So it is for us. We have to force our way in. We have to grab hold of the
covenant, and hold with all our might. We have to improve that
gift, and draw nearer and nearer and nearer to God, or we will lose
it. It will slip from
our fingers.
Finally, do not think that
all this is merely an exhortation to “do better” or “try
harder.” Unaided by the
Holy Spirit, that strength is not in you or in me. Ask yourself, what was this
woman seeking from Christ?
Healing for her
daughter. Something completely impossible in her own
strength.
What else was she
seeking? A way into the
covenant, something forbidden to her by heredity and condition. She was a “dog.”
Both things that she sought
were impossible to
her. Yet she had heard
of the Son of David and she hoped. She reached for this
impossible promise – the grace of God – and he had mercy on her
helplessness. He
planted the seed of faith in her by his word, he gave her the grace
to call on him, and then he gave her the grace to keep on calling in
the face of his seeming refusal to hear.
Here is the point. The grace of God is poured
out on the whole world in
Christ Jesus, but you must lay hold of that grace. You must grab hold of his
covenant, and believe that he will give you grace to draw near in
holiness and righteousness – and then do it. Do it.