On the podium

In ancient times, when an army conquered a land, they took the spoils of victory and paraded them. Then they divided those spoils among the people. This is described in Psalm 68:18, “You have ascended on high, You have led captivity captive; You have received gifts among men, even from the rebellious, that the Lord God might dwell there.”

Paul quotes this verse in his letter to the church at Ephesus. He says in Ephesians 4:7-8, “But to each one of us grace was given according to the measure of Christ’s gift. Therefore He says: ‘When He ascended on high, He led captivity captive, and gave gifts to men.’”

In the Old Testament, the emphasis is on the leader who receives or gains ‘gifts’ from those who rebelled against him. In the New Testament this is applied to Christ who conquers sin and death and the emphasis is on the giving of gifts. My devotional reading says this applies to even the rebellious.

Actually, is there anyone who has never rebelled against God? Since only Jesus is perfectly obedient, all that God gives humanity in general and individuals in particular is given only to rebels. Not one person deserves the blessings of the Lord, and for good reason. We all fall short; we all are rebels at heart.

Sometimes I do something dumb and then ask, “Why did I do that?” because I know better. It is as if I forget that I am a sinner living in a fallen world. It is as if I think I should never fail. After all, I am a child of God. Hmm. My devotional author says,

If we were always patient, meek, holy, submissive, never harassed by the devil, and never felt the workings of corruption, we would begin to think we had some power to please God in ourselves, and would slight and neglect a precious Savior. But when taught by painful experience what a depraved nature and rebellious heart we carry in our bosom, when the Lord lets down a little mercy and grace into our soul, we then know the blessed quarter whence it comes, and learn to abhor ourselves and bless His holy name.

He is correct. The blessings of God are given in mercy. After all, a conquering king does not have to give the spoils to the people he conquered. History shows this is indeed rare. In fact, those who overpower others usually take, not give.

Not so with Jesus. He simply breaks all human rules and practices. When He won my heart and paraded His victory, He also offered me, the loser, everything that belongs to Him. By that, I stand with Him as a defeated rebel, but also as a total winner.

Yielding control

Obeying God sometimes feels like trying to cup a butterfly in my hands without damaging its wings. Obedience is a beautiful thing, but my human sinfulness, even when I don’t want it to, frustrates His efforts and even my desire to preserve that beauty.

Paul said it well in Romans 7: “For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am carnal, sold under sin.”

While the rest of his writing makes it clear that sin no longer totally controls those who belong to Christ, sin still has power in my flesh, the human “I-will-do-it-myself” part of me. Unless God is at work, and unless I am yielded to Him, I will sin. But even when both things are happening, the contamination of sin is such that it tries to ruin the work of God and my willingness to cooperate with His work.

This verse shows that the law of God has nothing wrong with it; it is spiritual. Yet, when I try to obey it (apart from Christ), it reveals how much is wrong with me. My devotional book gives an excellent illustration. Suppose I have a clumsy servant. As long as I never ask him to do anything, his clumsiness is hidden. But if I give a command, he gets up and begins knocking over things, stumbling, breaking dishes, and so on. The commands were okay, but the servant is all wrong. He cannot do what I ask without ruining it.

We are sinners by nature, but unless God asks us to do something, we don’t realize it. When it happens, as Paul writes in Romans 7, “sin through the commandment becomes exceedingly sinful.” It is by the law that I know how far short I fall, how much I miss the high standard of God’s holiness.

The purpose of the law of God for unbelievers is that they will know they fall short and need a Savior, but it is also the law’s purpose for me. I am saved from sin’s penalty, but to be saved from its power, I also need Jesus. I cannot conquer sin, nor can I obey the law of God if I try to do it myself. Nor can I do it if I try to direct the main player, the Holy Spirit. I must let Him do with me as He wishes, not control Him. If I interfere, the beauty of obedience is hidden.

My hands, my fleshy, sinful nature cannot wrap themselves around the butterfly. The Spirit of God is at work to produce obedience in me. The only way that can happen without me wreaking it is if I quit trying to control His movements and let go, let the Spirit take flight, and live for God—not according to my will, but His.