I believe one of God’s greatest gifts of mercy to His Church is His faithful ministers who lovingly reprove us of our sins. I know that as a loving shepherd, I must be careful of my tone, but I can’t apologize for preaching convicting truth. What happens to the Church when pastors no longer point people to their iniquities? Consider where King David would have ended up if he had not had Nathan to show him his wickedness (see 2 Samuel 12).
You remember the story of Ananias and Sapphira. They were believers who dropped dead in the church because they misrepresented who Jesus was. They lied to Peter about the amount they received for the land they sold, but Peter told them they had lied to the Holy Ghost. Indeed, if a Christian lies to any man, it's as if that person has lied to God (see Acts 5:1-11).
We’re told that Christ is the light of the world “that all men through him might believe” (John 1:7). Yet, we then read, “The light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not. . . . He came unto his own, and his own received him not” (1:5, 11).
Unbelief has always grieved the heart of Jesus. When our Lord came to earth in the flesh, He brought incredible light into the world. And that light was meant to open the eyes of men. Yet, in spite of Jesus’ amazing show of light, Scripture speaks of incredible examples of unbelief in the very face of such light.
Today there is a great falling away from faith and trust in God. Paul warned about this: “Let no man deceive you by any means: for that day [Christ’s return] shall not come, except there come a falling away first” (2 Thessalonians 2:3).
Right now, your life may seem like a boat in the midst of a raging storm, your situation beyond all hope. The storm swirling around you may be as frightening as any you’ve ever faced. But He is still God, and you have One greater than Solomon present with you. He is Master over every storm, and He’ll use that storm to test you. He’s allowing your crisis to see what’s in your heart.
How it must grieve our Lord when we forget His past victories in our lives, all His miracles of deliverance. He has called us His friends (see John 15:15), yet in our crises we often forget all about His faithful friendship. This is why Jesus warned the disciples about the leaven of the Pharisees (in Mark 8). He told them, in essence, “If you come to Me with hard questions, don’t expect Me to answer if you have a heart of unbelief. You’re to come to Me with trust and faith, believing I am One greater than Solomon.”
The devil’s threat to the Church today goes beyond the flood of filth being poured out on the earth. It’s beyond materialism, addictions or intense seductions. Our battle is one of faith. The more you set your heart to seek Jesus, the more vicious Satan’s attack on your faith becomes.
In recent months, I’ve heard confessions from godly saints who speak of awful attacks on their minds. They’re plagued by arrows of doubt and nagging questions about God’s faithfulness. Many are just staggering onward, wavering in their faith, thinking, “I don’t know if I can go on.”
In Mark 4:2 we are told, “And [Jesus] taught them many things by parables.” Imagine what happened with the majority of that crowd after they went home. Neighbors crowded around them, anxious to know what Jesus had said: “What message did He bring? Tell us all you learned.” Those who had heard Him might have been able to repeat His parables but their words would have been dead, lifeless, with no impact or life-changing power.
“For [the Queen of Sheba] came from the uttermost parts of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon; and, behold, a greater than Solomon is here” (Matthew 12:42).
We all have to answer one crucial question today: If One greater than Solomon is in our midst, would He possibly leave us in confusion? If His wisdom is always available, do we seek for it as passionately as the queen sought Solomon’s wisdom?
I wonder how many Christians reading this message right now are in a cloud of confusion. Does this describe you? Perhaps your prayers go unanswered. You’re constantly downcast. You face things in your life that you can’t explain. You’re disappointed in your circumstances and in people. You continually doubt yourself, you’re plagued with questions, and you constantly examine your heart to see where you went wrong. You feel gloom, despair, indecision—and you can’t shake any of it.