JOY (chara)

THE first two aspects of love are really opposite sides of the same coin, the coin of security. Joy and peace are the active and passive sides of the coin. But, before we go any further, let me ask you something. If an angel were to appear to you tonight and say, "Fear not, you're on your way to the Kingdom. Keep it up, you're doing fine" (or words to that effect—I'm sure an angel would put it far better) how would you react? I know how I would. I'd feel a beautiful relaxed calm spreading all over me, mind and body. That sort of certainty would have me initially weeping for joy, and thereafter in a constant state of mild elation that would sometimes bubble up into the most exquisite joy. A feeling of perfect peace would settle over my heart.

I'm sure I'm typical of how most people would be in that situation. I would know a feeling of great security, and it would be characterised by joy and peace. But in the absence of an angel appearing tonight, how are you and I going to bring joy and peace into our hearts? How are we going to have these aspects of the fruit of the Spirit for ourselves? The answer, as you might expect by now, is delight and meditation in the Word.

We can find all the God-given security we need in the Word of God. Especially, we will find it in what the Word of God tells us to expect in our lives, moment by moment. Because through His Word we discover His care.

Let's not run away with the idea that delight and meditation is confined to periods of "study". Study is not an end in itself. You spend an hour or two shut away with a Bible, a concordance, and a Greek Lexicon, then emerge and get on with your real life! That isn't it. Nor should you be in a perpetual state of study. The character in Psalm 1 who meditates in God's law "day and night" isn't walking around with a book on the end of his nose. He delights and meditates at all times, because his familiarity with the Word, gained from more intensive periods of study, makes him conscious of the mind of God throughout his waking moments. That familiarity also makes him aware of God's care in his life. And the knowledge and experience of God's care cannot fail to bring security. Hence, delight and meditation will bring the first two aspects of the fruit into your life.

Let's not be afraid to experience the care of God in our lives. It is Scriptural. Or would we deny what He does for us? We tend to generalise God's care for us rather than particularize it and see it in everyday events. We may feel it's safer to do this rather than presume too much, but are we, as a result, shutting God out of much of our lives?—and lacking the joy of security as a result, because we lack a sense of the reality of God's care? We'll touch on this again later.

What do the Scriptures mean?

Our concern in these pages is to understand what the Scriptures mean by each of the eight aspects of love. To do this we will need to look closely at some of the occasions in Scripture where joy, peace, longsuffering etc. are expressed or recommended to us. The context is generally a good guide to the true meaning. And once we appreciate the true meaning, we'll be better placed to cultivate and express the fruits more fully and appropriately in our lives. Our own concept of the fruit may well be faulty, or too limited, or too wide ranging. We need the Scriptures to tell us what they mean by joy, and the other items, rather than think that because we know what the words mean to us, we know what they mean in the Word of God. It doesn't necessarily follow.

Balance

Paul puts joy first when listing the aspects of love, while Peter (see previous chapter) leaves it till last. You'd have thought that joy should come last, following on from the other seven, the cumulative effect of them. But we're probably wrong to try and impose an order upon the aspects. Much as we do love to do this sort of thing, it isn't always appropriate. I don't see any significance in the way Paul lists them that might suggest an order of importance. The eight aspects are all, surely, of equal merit, all equal parts of love, because balance is so necessary when it comes to love. Over-emphasis on any one of the parts is not good. A love overloaded with joy may lack meekness. Too much emphasis on longsuffering will certainly be to the detriment of joy! A balancing of the eight parts is called for. Delight and meditation in the Word will bring all the aspects of love equally to fruition.

An attitude problem

All the qualities listed as fruit of the Spirit are attitudes. They are the correct attitudes to life. And we have more control over our attitudes than most of us care to admit. It's easier to blame circumstances for our attitudes than to accept that our attitudes often create our circumstances. It's easier to blame other people for our attitude than accept that our attitude may be responsible for how people are toward us.

For instance, we sometimes decide that certain people simply aren't our type, so we don't get on with them very well. But what would happen if we decided that they were our type? What would happen then? I've put this into practice, and I can tell you you'd be amazed at who your friends turn out to be! Our attitudes to other people and life in general make a lot of difference to our lives, for good or for ill. And we do have some control over our attitudes, and therefore our lives.

The best possible influence we can bring into our lives is that of the fruit of the Spirit. With attitudes which show that fruit, life is considerably different. But, as we noted in an earlier chapter, you can't simply decide to have all the aspects of the fruit in your life, as if they were your list of New Year resolutions. There is no quick fix, no instant love. It takes time. But we do have the ability to initiate the right attitudes, once we know what they are, even though we know we can't sustain them by our own efforts. We can choose the right attitudes, the joy, the peace, and so on, even though we haven't got what it takes to keep them going for ourselves. Good old human nature—or rather, bad old human nature: 'the flesh', as we know it Scripturally—gets in the way of progress. We keep losing ground because of the pull of the flesh. We can only suffer being longsuffering for so long, then something snaps, we go overboard and so does meekness and peace, and all the rest.

But all is not lost. It is lost if we try to do it on our own, or try the quick-fix resolutions method. All is not lost because we have at hand some great assistance. Yes, the Word of God, and that delight and meditation that I keep going on about, that will help us like nothing else can to hang on to those right, healthy attitudes—more than you might think possible. I say all this to highlight the fact that we do have the ability and the responsibility to initiate the right attitudes, once we know them. That much is in our hands. Application to the Word will supply what it takes to keep us going.

Attitude and joy

Christ's parables in Matthew 13 tell of the different attitudes people adopt to the Kingdom of God, and the results of those attitudes. And somewhere in what he said there's your attitude and there's mine, and there's the result of it. Please God we're all "good ground" in the words of the first parable, of the sower, and will one day "shine forth as the sun in the Kingdom of [our] Father", in the words of the parable of the wheat and tares, rather than find ourselves wailing and gnashing our teeth because of the enormity of the mistake we made in our attitude to the Kingdom of God.

I don't say this in order to terrify anyone into a right attitude. That would be totally out of place. To be doing the right thing simply because you're terrified of doing otherwise is a wrong attitude if ever there was one! The man in the parable of the Talents made that mistake, you'll remember, by fearing God was a "hard man." That's never the right attitude.

So how do we test it? How do we check ourselves, whether we're good ground or shallow, whether we're wheat or tares?

Perhaps you test it by looking at the parable of the sower and going through a process of elimination. The seed that fell on the wayside was gobbled up immediately, so you say, "Well, I've been in the Truth five, ten, fifteen, twenty years. That can't be me." Move on to the next category: the seed that fell on stony ground. That seed was received with joy, but there was no root, so it lasted for a while and then died. Again, "That can't be me. Ten, fifteen, twenty years in the Truth!" Move on to the next one: the seed that fell among thorns. The thorns sprang up and choked it. "Ah, sprang up. That must have happened quickly, and here am I ten, fifteen, twenty years on, still in the Truth. Can't be me. That leaves only the good ground, so (Hey presto!) that must be me!"

Now, while I believe it's more spiritually and psychologically correct to believe and act as if we are the good ground, I also believe it's as well to check it a bit more thoroughly than we just did. Which is probably why Jesus immediately told the second parable in Matthew 13, of the wheat and tares, to write large that they'd be growing along together all the way to the Kingdom's door. It's not just the early drop-outs who are tares, is it? Length of service is no guarantee of a good reward. And so we come back to it—it's our attitude that matters.

You'll notice if you read Matthew 13 that there are some long parables and some brief ones. Jesus concludes the long ones by describing the separation of the righteous from the wicked. But in the smaller parables tucked in between the long ones, (the little, one or two verse parables), there is no mention of separation and judgement. These little vignettes have so much to tell us about attitude. There's a very good reason why there's no mention of separation in these little word pictures; it's because there's only one sort of person in them, and that's someone with the right attitude!

I'm thinking particularly about the parables of the treasure hid in a field (verse 44), and the pearl of great price (verses 45-46). These little parables tell us an awful lot about good attitude.

"The Kingdom of heaven is like unto treasure hid in a field; the which when a man hath found, he hideth, and for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath and buyeth that field."

"Again the Kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking goodly pearls: who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it."

That's it. No judgement. No separation from anyone else. No losers, just winners. This is where we want to be, isn't it? And one of the two parables describes some believers—not all of them—and the other one describes the rest of them. How do I know that? Because here two different ways of coming into the Truth are presented to us. There is the man who seemingly stumbles upon hidden treasure, and in the other parable there is the man who is actively searching for the pearl of great price. As believers, you and I fall into one of those categories. Some of us just seemed to happen upon the Truth while not really out there looking for it. It seemed to find us. Others among us were out searching for it. We looked at this 'pearl' and that 'pearl' - this 'truth' and that 'truth'—and then one day, "Pow!—this one's really special!" and we sold/offloaded all the lesser and flawed 'truths' in order to have this beauty.

How true to life these little parables are. In both of them there is a gap between finding the Truth and actually obtaining it. Some might say that gap is what we're living through now, busily (or not!) trying to offload all the unnecessary stuff we have in order to make the final purchase in the last day. But I don't think it's that. I believe this is the gap between finding and accepting the Truth. For me, that gap was about two years. There's a period of assessment, of selling off what we don't need in order to obtain the truth for ourselves. It's in both parables. A period of unloading the things from our lives which are of less value in order to obtain what matters more to us. Only you can know how that applies to you.

So, to get to the point, what does the man who found the treasure have, and what does the merchant who bought the pearl have, that the weepers and gnashers of teeth don't have? Didn't they all find their way to the Kingdom in the first place? Yes, they did. So what's the big difference? The difference has everything to do with their attitude to what they found. And the difference is to be found in that little word joy that appears in Matt.13:44: "and for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath."

But doesn't everyone who accepts the good news of the Kingdom do so with joy? Perhaps. Jesus said that those who were portrayed as the stony ground were those who received the word with joy, then problems came up and they didn't want to know any more. "Things are supposed to go right for me all the time! Isn't my life supposed to go right now that God's looking after me? How can I possibly keep this joy going if things keep going wrong?" So the joy withers and dies, and interest in the Truth of God dies along with it. The joy peters out in the face of the day-to-day mundane living of the Truth.

A question to all believers

I ask at this juncture, where is the joy you had when you first accepted the Truth? Where is now the glow inside that made you feel ten feet tall, and the rock-solid security you felt about your life, and your future? The longing for Christ's appearance and the Kingdom? The avid, hungry reading of the Bible? The keenness to share the Word with everyone? Has bitter experience of sin and life's problems over the years knocked the spiritual stuffing out of you? Has the glow become a flicker, rather like a pilot-light that occasionally ignites you, but most of the time just keeps you ticking over?

At what level is your joy over the Kingdom of God? Is it the profound joy of one who sold all they had to purchase a treasure?—the joy of someone who knows a pearl of great price when they see one! Or is it a joy that fizzled out and went flat some time ago?

We probably have a good idea about the answers to that nasty barrage of questions. But to make a proper assessment, we need to know more about what joy actually is. To return to it, what do the Scriptures mean when they talk of joy?

Joy, in the Scriptures (NT) is generally the Greek word chara, and it belongs to that little family of words which includes charis, meaning grace, and charisma, meaning a gift. What a wonderful trio they make: chara, charis, charisma: joy, grace, gift! All related.

Tidings of great joy

A good point to start a closer look at the word joy is early in the Gospel narratives, because if there ever was an occasion for great joy it was at the news of the birth of Jesus. The angel of the Lord proclaimed the news to the shepherds in the field as "good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people" (Luke 2:10). And the wise men who travelled from the East were among those touched by the joy of the event. (Incidentally, for a definition of wise, see Job 28:28, which shows these men from afar in the right light.)

You'll recall that they travelled from the East to Jerusalem, having seen Jesus' star. Then, having spoken to Herod and the chief priests and scribes, they set off for Bethlehem as the most likely location for the birth place. And "when they saw the star, they rejoiced [chairo] with exceeding great joy [chara]." Jesus' star was plainly somehow different from the other stars in the heavens and easily recognisable to the Magi. It's evident from Matthew's account that for a time, certainly while the Magi were at Jerusalem, the star disappeared from view. It's not difficult to imagine them being concerned by this and wondering if they were doing something wrong. Maybe going about their search in the wrong direction altogether. Having journeyed this far they didn't want to fail to find the one they knew had been born King of the Jews (a title which must have meant far more to them than simply that! This was the King of Promise, the future King of the World, and they knew it). So, following the advice of the chief priests and scribes they set off for Bethlehem. Then the star reappeared! And this was their big occasion of great joy. It was the joy of doubt cast out, of certainty that they were on the right road, and, even more wonderfully, it was their joy that they would soon witness the babe whose birth would mean so much to the world.

The joy of the Magi was the joy of certainty and of expectations soon to be realised.

The joy that is a part of the fruit of the Spirit is precisely what the Magi experienced. Chara is the joy of doubt cast out, of the certainty of being on the right road, and of expectations soon to be realised. In a word: security. In a world where insecurity seems to darken almost everybody's path, we so need this chara. This is the joy that will be our own experience when we have love. There can be no real joy where there is doubt and worry. If we doubt that we are on the right road to the Kingdom, if we are unsure that our expectations of a place in the Kingdom will be realised—where will be our joy? If that sorry situation describes you, then your only moments of joy will be what you can wring from what this world has to offer, the rather shallow parody of joy that people generally use to mask a dreadful lack of the real thing. And it does not have to be so!

Why is it so difficult for many believers to look to the future with real certainty? It seems to be a part of our make-up (literally so, doubt having entered along with the curse in Eden) that we have to overcome. Certainty doesn't come naturally, even in the face of abundant grace. We're suspicious of certainty. It doesn't feel right. Perhaps because we see the over-confidence of some of those around us whose beliefs are different. We wonder that they can be so certain. We wouldn't want to delude ourselves, would we?

In addition to this, we read God's Word and see the high standards set, and we know in our heart of hearts how far we miss the mark. Again we allow uncertainty about the future to take hold of us. All that talk of shame and punishment and outer darkness, weeping and gnashing of teeth!—don't you have good reason to be anxious! But why do we give so much weight to threats of punishment and shame, and not give equal and preferably more weight and attention to all the grace and goodness, mercy and forgiveness of which we read! And, it has to be said, the Sunday morning exhortation is sometimes not too helpful in this respect. Matters have improved in recent years, but there are still plenty of exhortations that err on the wrong side of the comfort/warning divide. I'm not suggesting that speakers should be so considerate as to leave us in ignorance of the spiritual dangers we face, but we shouldn't go home from the meeting feeling no good, and that we will never be any good. If we do, then the fault is with the speaker and not with ourselves. Such abuse of the exhortation period serves only to sap the certainty and security that is so necessary for joy to be part of our lives.

Good grief

It's easy for us to go into a downward spiral of guilt and depression over our constant failure to live the Truth at anything like the level of acceptability we feel we ought. Feelings of unworthiness can become chronic, an on-going state of mild (or even quite severe) despair. But we need never get this way. Feelings of guilt and unworthiness serve a useful purpose. They are to the heart what pain is to the body. We touch a flame and the pain warns us it was a bad move. On rare occasions, thankfully rare, a child is born without a natural pain response, and the problem is horrific. They might put their finger in a flame and watch with delight as it burns to a stub, not feeling a thing. These children generally become crippled through the stresses they unwittingly put on their joints. I recall the mother of such a child saying how wonderful it would be to see her child fall down, hurt itself and cry!

The consequences of not feeling pain are awful. Believe it or not, a toothache is a good friend, because it warns us that something is wrong so we can do something about it. I have a tooth from which the nerve was removed some years ago. This is the one my dentist keeps a special eye on, taking an X-ray picture every now and then, because it could go bad and I'd never know it, which could ultimately be more trouble than a mere toothache.

Guilt and unworthiness do the same job for our hearts, warning us that something has gone wrong so we can do something about it. These feelings, that we might wish we didn't suffer, actually perform the good task of leading us to repentance, confession and forgiveness. That's their job; that's why we have them. And when they've done their job, the emotional pain should go away. Once the recommended healing has been applied, the pain should subside. Any guilt remaining after repentance and confession is purely imaginary. It doesn't really exist. It's like the pain amputees say they sometimes get in limbs which have been amputated. They have no leg below the knee and yet their foot hurts, because the nerve receptors are still working at the brain end of the line, sending a false message that feels like the real thing. Our "guilt receptors" can do the same. We can confess and 'amputate' our sin but the old unworthiness record keeps on playing. The guilt feelings won't go away sometimes. Maybe we're not certain we're actually forgiven. Whenever this happens, we need to see the bogus pain for what it really is and let go of it. It's a false message. The guilt doesn't really exist. There's an excellent example of wrongly assumed guilt in the Old Testament. It was killing joy for the people of Israel.

"The joy of the Lord is your strength"

In the days of Nehemiah, the people of Israel were in the sorry state of seeing only the huge weight of their sin and neglect of God, while losing sight of the mercy of God. When Ezra the scribe read the book of the Law to the assembled people, and when other faithful men "caused the people to understand the law", the people went into great mourning. They were brought face to face with the dreadful fact of their own failings before God, individually and as a nation. The outlook seemed horribly bleak as they became aware of the awful chasm between what they should have been and what they were. But the people had totally misread the situation. Nehemiah, Ezra and the Levites had to reassure the people that this hopeless mourning was not what was wanted! "Do not mourn or weep," they insisted. "For all the people had been weeping as they listened to the words of the law." (Neh.8:9 NIV) Now take note of what followed.

"Nehemiah said, Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared. This day is sacred to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength" (Neh. 8:10 NIV).

The Levites actually had to go down among the people to reassure them, to tell them not to grieve over their past, but to be joyful. And eventually the people understood what the Levites were saying, the 'penny dropped', and the people went their way "to make great mirth" it says. When they understood the truth about the mercy and goodness of God, the burden of guilt and unworthiness dropped from their souls. Joy was the inevitable result.

We need more Nehemiahs on Sunday mornings. Not that the speaker needs to come down from the platform and reassure us when he sees the consternation on our faces! But the grace of God needs to be set more strongly against the law of God. Being sorry for our sins is needful (Israel were sorry), but to be continually sorry for them, having confessed them and while trying to overcome them, is more than counter-productive; it's wrong. It's a denial of God's grace and of His clearly stated willingness to forgive. And it will rob us of joy. It will make our love incomplete, lacking the necessary aspect of joy. And what strange vanity is this, to imagine that our sins are greater than Christ's atoning work could possibly cover! What nonsense.

The remedy for all despair

Nehemiah told Israel those lovely words: "The joy of the Lord is your strength." That word strength is the Hebrew word moaz, which carries the idea of a fort or stronghold. Do you notice how perfectly suited the word was to the occasion? The people had just completed building again the defensive wall around their city of Jerusalem, and no doubt they viewed that wall as their stronghold, their strength. But, "No," said Nehemiah, "The joy of the Lord is your strength." Joy founded upon the certainty of God's love and mercy was their protection against the despair and hopelessness that the guilt of sin brings. And surely the Levites would have explained to the people, as they went among them, that this same joy had also been their defence against the physical enemy outside the city gates. God protected them while they joyfully and purposefully worked, building the walls under the baleful eyes of their enemies. They had no walls to protect them then; their safety came entirely from the Lord. And the truth of the matter was that although the city walls were now in place, their true safety still came from God. The people were no doubt made to realise and rejoice in that, and not be downcast because of the accusing finger of the law. God had, if they cared to think about it, already proved his mercy to them, preserving them while they worked. That was evidence enough that God had not rejected them. So they could be joyful now, confidently trusting in Him. That was their strength.

And it's ours too. If you're ever cast down by the weight of your own sins, and feel rejected, then look back in your life. We all have somewhere in our past some evidence of the hand of God in our lives. Think on that. Did God do whatever it was for you because you were sinless? God was bothered with you then, and He's bothered with you now. Having been sorry, confessed and committed yourself to trying to do better, don't go on punishing yourself with thoughts of rejection; turn your mind to the love, grace and mercy of God. Think on His care for you till now, and know that it's still with you. Let that be your strength... and your joy.

Joy and sorrow

The direct opposite of joy is, of course, sorrow. The disciples were told that they were going to experience both these emotions because of what lay ahead for them. In John 16:20 Jesus told his disciples he must soon leave them. When that happened, he said, they'd weep and lament, though the world would rejoice (the Jewish world, no doubt, whose leaders were glad to be rid of him). "And ye shall be sorrowful, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy." It would be turned to joy because they would see him again, and their hearts would rejoice. "And your joy no man taketh from you."

The disciples were to experience a joy that no-one could take from them: a deep, inner joy that was unrelated to what was going on around them, not dependent on good circumstances. This is a joy that stems from deep-seated security, from knowing that despite all appearances to the contrary, all is really well and there is nothing to worry about. That can only come from spiritual certainty. And the disciples discovered it for themselves shortly after the anguish and uncertainty of the dark hours immediately following the crucifixion of their Lord. The realisation that Jesus was alive brought such gasps of relief and astonishment! Their hearts were lifted up, their spirits lightened, all because of renewed certainty. They had the joy of knowing their expectations were going to be realised after all. They were on the right road after all! Christ was alive! And it gave those ordinary men the extraordinary commitment and courage that was needed to establish Christianity in the First Century.

That's an indication of how we can feel about the fact that Christ is alive. It's an indication of the joy available to you and me because we know the Kingdom of God will be established. The possibility of being in it is great because of what Christ has done, and continues to do, for us. Don't even think about not getting there! That's called unbelief in the language of Hebrews 4:6. The Israelites who failed to reach the 'promised land' failed because of unbelief, not in a particular set of doctrines, but in the power of God to get them there! Don't follow their example, says the writer of Hebrews.

Be elated when you think about the Kingdom of God. Be like the merchant who's bought the pearl of great price. Take it out now and then just to drool over it because it's so gorgeous! That's the attitude that will benefit most. And we need that attitude of joy to keep us going through daily problems that can so drain our spiritual resources, and the sin and guilt that can deplete these resources more than anything. True scriptural joy makes us almost impervious to what seems like the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune".

Leap for joy!

I'm reminded of a piece of advice James gave in his letter. Everyone calls James the most practical of all the New Testament writers, yet the very first piece of advice he has for us is this: "My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations" (Jas.1:2). It sounds like the most impractical piece of advice anyone ever handed out! But of course it isn't when we understand the true nature of joy.

And what James said is mild compared with what Jesus himself said. Jesus said: "Blessed are ye, when men shall hate you, and when they shall separate you from their company, and shall reproach you, and cast out your name as evil, for the Son of man's sake. REJOICE IN THAT DAY, AND LEAP FOR JOY..." (Luke 6:22,23 NIV, emphasis added).

Rejoice! Leap for joy! Yes, not just the more mild "count it all joy". How can we possibly take that attitude to being treated so badly, and when trying to cope with difficulties? Do James and Jesus tell us how? Well, yes, they do.

Jesus explained himself by adding (to "leap for joy"), "for behold your reward is great in heaven." And James must have had Jesus' words from the sermon on the mount in mind when he wrote his letter, because he lapsed into a little 'beatitude' of his own: "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation: for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love him" (Jas.1:12).

So, why, when talking of trial and temptation, should the subject of joy come up? Because joy is our best defence against trial and temptation, that's why. And joy comes not simply as a result of successfully coming through some trial or temptation, though of course, that's a joyful experience. James and Jesus point out that the joy needs to be present while you're in a problem. "Count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations"—not afterwards when you put your feet up. And "leap for joy" when people are giving you a hard time, not later when the problem has gone away.

Because that's how you're going to overcome the problems, and survive the difficulties. Focusing on joy while you're in the trial or temptation is the answer. Getting the pearl of great price out of its little carrying pouch, and giving it a loving glance, and thinking to yourself, "Yes, that's why I sold all that other stuff. I certainly made the right decision there. It's absolutely beautiful!" Not putting the pearl in the mental equivalent of a safety deposit box, hidden away somewhere to be brought out, perhaps, only at moments of 'study'. That way we might even forget we ever bought it! Keep the pearl with you wherever you go. That's the secret of maintaining the joy you had when you first bought it. Remember -

1. Keep the vision of your pearl clear (don't tuck it away)

2. Keep the certainty of it clear (don't give doubt houseroom)

3. Keep the expectation of it clear (don't let failure obscure your view of grace)

4. "The joy of the Lord is your strength"

A personal reminder

Do I still sense scepticism out there? Despite all I've said, is there still that little nagging voice inside that says, "How can I be really sure of my future? And surely it's going too far to say we ought to expect to be in the Kingdom of God? Aren't we presuming upon the grace of God?" Yes, in a way we are, in the sense that to presume something is to assume that it's true. What are we supposed to do with grace? Ignore it? Doubt it? Water it down? Limit it? Deny it for ourselves but not for others? What are the Scriptural grounds for all these negatives? That we sin? What's grace for, if not for sinners? That we just don't measure up? Again, what's grace for? Perfect people don't need grace! The only way we can miss out on grace is to turn our backs on it.

But still the concept of certainty is a problem for us, isn't it? If only we could have a sign from heaven that we're okay with God, like that angel we spoke of at the beginning of this chapter, appearing to tell us all's well. "Shew me a token for good", said one of the Psalmists. (Psalm 86:17—incidentally my favourite Psalm). People like Hezekiah were sometimes given big, dramatic signs. But us...?

Well, can you honestly say you've never in your whole life had an encouraging sign from God? Anyone with any appreciation of the reality of God in his or her life will have had signs, I'm sure. "Hold on there", I hear someone say, "this is getting a bit close to Spirit guidance." Well, yes. Of course there is unseen spiritual guidance in our lives. And unless we are aware of it, how are we ever going to know the security in our lives that is essential for joy and peace? The ways of providence work today. And we can observe them in action in our lives. We're not left struggling and alone, without the slightest hint of God's presence.

Consider for a moment, how are we supposed to understand this verse (Mark 11:24): "What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them"? The NIV says more correctly, "believe that you have received it and it will be yours." It doesn't appear to make sense, does it? Why would we ask for something we believe we already have? The sense becomes more clear when you remove the word them from the verse in the AV or the it in the NIV, which the translators have added to try to make more sense of the Greek. In this case they've helped to obscure the sense. Try it like this: "believe that you have received, and it will be yours." What it means is, when you pray, pray believing that you have received things from God in the past, and you will receive things now. This is what real prayers of faith are. They are prayers based on the belief that God has provided for you in the past, and so He will now, not in some general, vague way, but in specific ways.

Perhaps I can be specific now, and give a personal recollection. About five years ago (1991) I was running late for the office one morning and feeling bad with an illness that had laid me low for some time. I'd made it to the bus stop just in time to see my bus disappearing down the road. I felt awful, and I knew I had a long wait that I really could have done without. I was considering giving up and going home. So I prayed, as one does, when life gets bleak. I prayed that I might be helped in some way, with transport, or better health, or anything! I was startled out of my half-finished prayer by the noise of a car horn. I opened my eyes and found myself looking down at the roof of a car. A man I'd not met before, but who recognised me as he worked for the same organisation said, "Would you like a lift to work?" He brought me home that evening, too. And he did the same, morning and evening, for almost the next two years until he retired.

Just a coincidence? It could happen to anyone? I was wondering seriously about that a few months ago. I was walking towards a bus stop on a cold, dark evening on my way home from work, running over in my mind whether it really was a Godsend in the literal sense of the word. I was beginning to have little doubts, thinking maybe it could have been just a coincidence. These things do happen to people. And as I reached the stop and stood there still in my reverie, a car going the other way suddenly slowed, turned round in the road, and pulled up next to me. A fellow-believer just happened to be going down that way, not usual for her, she saw me and wondered if I would like a lift home!

I think I'm justified in believing that my angel wanted to let me know he'd organised it last time!

I'm sure we all have such events in our lives that we wouldn't dare say were not the hand of God. Like walking into an old country church to look round it one day while feeling a little low, and finding the big Bible on the lectern laid open at your favourite Psalm, the Psalm which always bucks you up. That's happened to me, too. This sort of thing must be happening to all who are in the Truth. But maybe we're not open to such things; we go around with our spiritual eyes shut. And we may lack joy as a consequence. As I said at the outset of this chapter, our delight and meditation when we read the Word doesn't supply all the joy we need. It's how we take what we read into our daily lives that makes the difference.

Our joy comes from our security in Christ. It's the joy of doubt cast out, and of knowing we're on the right road.