Sermon Tone Analysis

“Our Ability to know God Part I”

"John bare witness of him, and cried, saying, This was he of whom I spake, He that cometh after me is preferred before me: for he was before me.

And of his fulness have all we received, and grace for grace.

For the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ.

No man hath seen God at any time; the only begotten Son, which is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him."

(John 1:15-18, KJV)

                I began reading a book this week that was given to me by my Father-in-Law entitled “The Imitation of Christ” and in the first sentence of the first chapter the author makes a statement that is simple but yet profound.

He said in that statement that if you want to know Christ you must study Christ.

That is what we are going to do in this study of the Gospel of John.

The Gospel of John, unlike the other three Gospels focuses primarily on the Deity of Christ.

We do not get much information in the Gospel about the birth of Christ, no mention of Shepherds, Herod is absent; yet from the first verse the focus has been on the deity of Christ.

John has done a very good job of making plain that he believed in the Deity of his cousin.

Our goal in this study is to know Christ better and there is not better way to know Christ than to study about Him.

John Macarthur said that the best exercise of his life and been the exercise in the knowledge of Christ.

We must cultivate the attitude to know Christ.

We need frankly to face ourselves at this point.

We are, perhaps, orthodox evangelicals.

We can state the gospel clearly; we can smell unsound doctrine a mile away.

If asked how one may know God, we can at once produce the right formula: that we come to know God through Jesus Christ the Lord, in virtue of his cross and mediation, on the basis of his word of promise, by the power of the Holy Spirit, via a personal exercise of faith.

Yet the gaiety, goodness, and unfetteredness of spirit which are the marks of those who have known God are rare among us—rarer, perhaps, than they are in some other Christian circles where, by comparison, evangelical truth is less clearly and fully known.

Here, too, it would seem that the last may prove to be first, and the first last.

A little knowledge of God is worth more than a great deal of knowledge about him.

To focus this point further, let me say two things:

1.

One can know a great deal about God without much knowledge of him.

I am sure that many of us have never really grasped this.

We find in ourselves a deep interest in theology (which is, of course, a most fascinating and intriguing subject—in the seventeenth century it was every gentleman’s hobby).

We read books of theological exposition and apologetics.

We dip into Christian history, and study the Christian creed.

We learn to find our way around in the Scriptures.

Others appreciate our interest in these things, and we find ourselves asked to give our opinion in public on this or that Christian question, to lead study groups, to give papers, to write articles, and generally to accept responsibility, informal if not formal, for acting as teachers and arbiters of orthodoxy in our own Christian circle.

Our friends tell us how much they value our contribution, and this spurs us to further explorations of God’s truth, so that we may be equal to the demands made upon us.

All very fine—yet interest in theology, and knowledge about God, and the capacity to think clearly and talk well on Christian themes, is not at all the same thing as knowing him.

We may know as much about God as Calvin knew—indeed, if we study his works diligently, sooner or later we shall—and yet all the time (unlike Calvin, may I say) we may hardly know God at all.

2. One can know a great deal about godliness without much knowledge of God.

It depends on the sermons one hears, the books one reads, and the company one keeps.

In this analytical and technological age there is no shortage of books on the church booktables, or sermons from the pulpits, on how to pray, how to witness, how to read our Bibles, how to tithe our money, how to be a young Christian, how to be an old Christian, how to be a happy Christian, how to get consecrated, how to lead people to Christ, and generally how to go through all the various motions which the teachers in question associate with being a Christian believer.

Nor is there any shortage of biographies delineating the experiences of Christians in past days for our interested perusal.

Whatever else may be said about this state of affairs, it certainly makes it possible to learn a great deal secondhand about the practice of Christianity.

Moreover, if one has been given a good bump of common sense one may frequently be able to use this learning to help floundering Christians of less stable temperament to regain their footing and develop a sense of proportion about their troubles, and in this way one may gain for oneself a reputation for being quite a pastor.

Yet one can have all this and hardly know God at all.

We come back, then, to where we started.

The question is not whether we are good at theology, or “balanced” (horrible, self–conscious word!) in our approach to problems of Christian living.

The question is, can we say, simply, honestly, not because we feel that as evangelicals we ought to, but because it is a plain matter of fact, that we have known God, and that because we have known God the unpleasantness we have had, or the pleasantness we have not had, through being Christians does not matter to us?

If we really knew God, this is what we would be saying, and if we are not saying it, that is a sign that we need to face ourselves more sharply with the difference between knowing God and merely knowing about him.

Evidence of Knowing God

We have said that when people know God, losses and “crosses” cease to matter to them; what they have gained simply banishes these things from their minds.

What other effects does knowledge of God have on a person?

Various sections of Scripture answer this question from different points of view, but perhaps the most clear and striking answer of all is provided by the book of Daniel.

We may summarize its witness in four propositions.

1.

Those who know God have great energy for God.

In one of the prophetic chapters of Daniel we read, “the people that do know their God shall be strong, and do exploits” (11:32 KJV).

In the context, this statement is introduced by “but” and set in contrast to the activity of the “contemptible person” (v.

21) who sets up “the abomination that causes desolation” and corrupts by smooth and flattering talk those whose loyalty to God’s covenant has failed (vv.

31–32).

This shows us that the action taken by those who know God is their reaction to the anti–God trends which they see operating around them.

While their God is being defied or disregarded, they cannot rest; they feel they must do something; the dishonor done to God’s name goads them into action.

This is exactly what we see happening in the narrative chapters of Daniel, where we are told of the “exploits” of Daniel and his three friends.

These were four men who knew God, and who in consequence felt compelled from time to time actively to stand out against the conventions and dictates of irreligion and false religion.

Daniel in particular appears as one who would not let a situation of that sort slide, but felt bound openly to challenge it.

Rather than risk possible ritual defilement through eating palace food, he insisted on a vegetarian diet, to the consternation of the prince of the eunuchs (1:8–16).

When Darius suspended the practice of prayer for a month, on pain of death, Daniel not merely went on praying three times a day, but did so in front of an open window, so that everyone might see what he was doing (6:10).

Such gestures must not be misunderstood.

It is not that Daniel, was an awkward, cross–grained fellow who luxuriated in rebellion and could only be happy when he was squarely went against the government.

It is simply that those who know their God are sensitive to situations in which God’s truth and honor are being directly or tacitly jeopardized, and rather than let the matter go by default will force the issue on men’s attention and seek thereby to compel a change of heart about it—even at personal risk.

Nor does this energy for God stop short with public gestures.

Indeed, it does not start there.

People who know their God are before anything else people who pray, and the first point where their zeal and energy for God’s glory come to expression is in their prayers.

In Daniel 9 we read how, when the prophet “understood from the Scriptures” (v. 2) that the foretold time of Israel’s captivity was drawing to an end, and when at the same time he realized that the nation’s sin was still such as to provoke God to judgment rather than mercy, he set himself to seek God “in prayer and petition, in fasting, and in sackcloth and ashes” (v.

3), and prayed for the restoring of Jerusalem with a vehemence and passion and agony of spirit to which most of us are complete strangers.

Yet the invariable fruit of true knowledge of God is energy to pray for God’s cause—energy, indeed, which can only find an outlet and a relief of inner tension when channeled into such prayer—and the more knowledge, the more energy!

By this we may test ourselves.

Perhaps we are not in a position to make public gestures against ungodliness and apostasy.

Perhaps we are old, or ill, or otherwise limited by our physical situation.

But we can all pray about the ungodliness and apostasy which we see in everyday life all around us.

If, however, there is in us little energy for such prayer, and little consequent practice of it, this is a sure sign that as yet we scarcely know our God.

2. Those who know God have great thoughts of God.

There is not space enough here to gather up all that the book of Daniel tells us about the wisdom, might, and truth of the great God who rules history and shows his sovereignty in acts of judgment and mercy toward individuals and nations according to his own good pleasure.

Suffice it to say that there is, perhaps, no more vivid or sustained presentation of the many–sided reality of God’s sovereignty in the whole Bible.

In the face of the might and splendor of the Babylonian empire which had swallowed up Palestine and the prospect of further great world empires to follow, dwarfing Israel by every standard of human calculation, the book as a whole forms a dramatic reminder that the God of Israel is King of kings and Lord of lords, “that Heaven rules” (4:26), that God’s hand is on history at every point, that history, indeed, is no more than */“his/* story,” the unfolding of his eternal plan, and that the kingdom which will triumph in the end is God’s.

The central truth which Daniel taught Nebuchadnezzar in chapters 2 and 4, and of which he reminded Belshazzar in chapter 5 (vv.

18–23), and which Nebuchadnezzar acknowledged in chapter 4 (vv.

34–37), and which Darius confessed, in chapter 6 (vv.

25–27), and which was the basis of Daniel’s prayers in chapters 2 and 9, and of his confidence in defying authority in chapters 1 and 6, and of his friends’ confidence in defying authority in chapter 3, and which formed the staple substance of all the disclosures which God made to Daniel in chapters 2, 4, 7, 8, 10, and 11–12, is the truth that “the Most High is sovereign over the kingdoms of men” (4:25; compare 5:21).

He knows, and foreknows, all things, and his foreknowledge is foreordination; he, therefore, will have the last word, both in world history and in the destiny of every man; his kingdom and righteousness will triumph in the end, for neither men nor angels shall be able to thwart him.

These were the thoughts of God which filled Daniel’s mind, as witness his prayers (always the best evidence for a man’s view of God): “Praise be to the name of God for ever and ever; wisdom and power are his.

He changes times and seasons; he sets up kings and deposes them.

He gives wisdom.

He knows what lies in darkness, and light dwells with him” (2:20–22); “O Lord, the great and awesome God, who keeps his covenant of love with all who love him and obey his commands. . . .

Lord, you are righteous. . . .

The Lord our God is merciful and forgiving. . . .

The Lord our God is righteous in everything he does” (9:4, 7, 9, 14).

Is this how we think of God?

Is this the view of God which our own praying expresses?

Does this tremendous sense of his holy majesty, his moral perfection and his gracious faithfulness keep us humble and dependent, awed and obedient, as it did Daniel?

By this test, too, we may measure how much, or how little, we know God.

3.

Those who know God show great boldness for God.

Daniel and his friends were men who stuck their necks out.

This was not foolhardiness.

They knew what they were doing.

They had counted the cost.

They had measured the risk.