It’s Sunday morning. You walk into the sanctuary and are greeted by a friend and fellow church member with these words: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places...” (Eh. 1:3). You struggle to smile, perplexed about your friend’s greeting, and walk away quickly. Another person approaches and says, “I am sure of this, that he who began a work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 1:6). Ok, now things seem to be getting weird. You think that maybe you missed something. Maybe an encouragement from the pastor to begin memorizing Scripture and people are walking up to you trying to practice. Or, maybe there was something you missed in the Sunday School lesson. Still confused, you hurry to your seat. Then a third person walks up just before the music begins and, shaking your hand, proclaims, “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him give us all things?” (Rom. 8:32). That’s it! You ask uncomfortably, “What’s going on here? Why is everyone speaking Scripture to me?” With that, everyone just turns and looks at you equally confused, and one answers, “Well, we love you, what better could we say?”
While clearly hypothetical, how would you respond? What would you think? If that scenario sounds strange, why?
There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.
(Romans 8:1-4 ESV)
If you haven’t read the passage above, please take the opportunity to read it before you continue, and if you have already read it I would encourage you to reread it, listening to it as voice of the Spirit of God to you who are in Christ. Let it soak in. Let it break through the familiarity. Let it melt the hardness of heart born from pain and struggle. Let it gladden the soul burdened by indwelling sin. Let it strengthen the bones broken by the weight of life. In Christ you are freed, forgiven, and filled by Him, “who is the head of all rule and authority.”
You see, it is easy and common for the weight of daily life to overshadow the glory of God and the gospel. We strive and we fail. We fight and we lose. We aim and we miss. This is everyday living for the Christian. Sin has so corrupted us and this world that while we long for it, perfection will ever allude us here. By God’s grace, the Scriptures are not silent in regards to our failures, our struggle, and our hope.
On this day 309 years ago Jonathan Edwards was born. He was a pastor, a theologian, and a missionary in colonial New England. Edwards wrote voluminously, preached widely, and pursued God and the truths of his Word vigorously. He is sadly most popularly known for his sermon "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God." While worthy of attention, this one sermon does not adequately represent the mind or ministry of this pillar of the Christian faith. In fact, he spent much energy writing and preaching some of the most beautiful sermons and books about heaven and the love of God. In honor of Jonathan Edwards' birthday and his legacy I would like share a snippet of one of his sermons, "Heaven, a World of Charity or Love":
[The] God of love himself dwells in heaven. Heaven is the palace or presence-chamber of the high and holy One, whose name is love, and who is both the cause and source of all holy love. God, considered with respect to his essence, is everywhere – he fills both heaven and earth. But yet he is said, in some respects, to be more especially in some places than in others. He was said of old to dwell in the land of Israel, above all other lands; and in Jerusalem, above all other cities of that land; and in the temple, above all other buildings in the city; and in the holy of holies, above all other apartments of the temple; and on the mercy-seat, over the ark of the covenant, above all other places in the holy of holies. But heaven is his dwelling-place above all other places in the universe; and all those places in which he was said to dwell of old, were but types of this. Heaven is a part of creation that God has built for this end, to be the place of his glorious presence, and it is his abode for ever; and here will he dwell, and gloriously manifest himself, to all eternity.
Charles Spurgeon became pastor of Park Street Chapel in London before he was 20. His following grew to be so substantial that the 6000-seat Metropolitan Tabernacle was built for his preaching ministry. There he served from 1861 to 1891. He was three years into his seven-year pastorate at Park Street when he spoke the following words from “The Poor Have the Gospel Preached to Them.”By that time, the crowds were so great that he was forced into larger venues—in this case the music hall at Royal Surrey Gardens.
Spurgeon compares the pulpit to Thermopylae, the narrow pass where 300 Spartan warriors stood their ground unto death against a force of 200,000 Persians. Though all these Spartan lives were lost, they purchased precious time for their Greek allies to prepare for ultimate victory. Similarly, the pulpit may seem small, but it can make the critical difference in rescuing a people from ruin.
By “dignity,” Spurgeon meant the high status and fruitfulness of the pulpit, not stuffiness. Indeed, he was criticized for his plain, accessible speech. But he defended clarity and color as necessary for communicating the gospel:1
Summer heat holds the air. The bronzing sun falls beneath the horizon. As the blanket of darkness is pulled across the sky people young and old flee their homes seeking wonder. Masses gather gazing towards the heavens anticipating the genesis of their amazement. The hush of the crowd is broken by a cannon-like burst followed by a breach in the night. The blackness of the evening's ceiling is in a moment undone by the flash of multicolor pearls of light. One after the other, the sky is illuminated, leaving children and the aged awestruck alike. With mouths gaping and eyes fixed, everyone's mind is filled with wonder and their hearts are carried away for a brief time. As the sky darkens once again the multitude hastens back to their dwellings, singing the praises of the glorious display of power and artistry they have just witnessed.
Two thousand years ago this would sound like an appearance of angels, possibly to shepherds on a hillside, but today this is a yearly occasion for Americans - any one of the Fourth of July events centered upon a fireworks display. The question that arises from such an occasion is why do we find such wonder and amazement in fireworks? Why do they, year after year, from our youngest days to the day of our death, cause us to stand in awe? I do no think it is not simply because they are loud to the ears or spectacular to the eyes, though they are. It is not simply because fireworks awaken the inner child within us all, who finds amazement in the simple pleasures of life, though they do. I believe it is something deeper. Something deep within us as well as something greatly outside of us.
Imagine this with me: 
