Ultimate Wisdom

Last week I posted a quote on some of my social media channels that simply stated: “Our opinions don’t matter if they don’t square with God’s Word on the matter.” This seemed to me to be a fairly uncontroversial statement, but one anonymous reader really took me to task for using the hashtag #objectivetruth. Apparently, he thinks there is no such thing. 

But don’t we all rely on objective, external standards all the time? For instance, a gallon of gasoline is a gallon regardless of where you buy it, or whether you feel like it’s a gallon or not. And when you go to pay for your gasoline, the price isn’t based on how the gas station attendant is feeling at that moment, but on the objective amount posted. 

Psalm 49 is somewhat unusual in that it is a “wisdom psalm.” This psalm feels a lot more like something we would read in Proverbs or Ecclesiastes than it does a prayer or song in the Psalms. 

For instance, the first four verses of this Psalm sound a lot like the opening verses of the Book of Proverbs. And verses 5-13 of the Psalm echo what Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes 2. 

This psalmist—like Solomon—wants us to understand how important it is to get wisdom. So we are urged to listen intently to those who have hard-won insight, to those who have “been there, done that” so that we don’t have to repeat their folly. 

What is that wisdom? It can be broken down into two profound statements:

(1) Everyone dies. 

That can be a really depressing truth IF your focus is building your own kingdom. If all there is to life is what you can earn and build before you die, only to realize that your “kingdom” ends at your last breath, that can be very depressing. 

However, this realization that everyone dies can be a very liberating truth IF your focus is on the eternal kingdom that is awaiting you in Heaven. When you realize that Jesus is preparing a place for you to experience ultimate joy and unending pleasure forever and ever, then you will live here for what’s coming next! 

(2) Our eternal destination after we die is determined before we die.

If someone told me that he had discovered the secret to immortality, and then he died and came back to this life to tell me that his theory was correct, I would be wise listen to him. 

That’s exactly what Jesus did for us!

He told us that He would die on a Cross and that He would be raised back to life. AND HE DID IT! His hard-won insight, His “been there, done that” wise words to us are this—“Believe in Me. I died to pay the penalty for the sins that will keep you out of Paradise. So place your faith in what I did, and ask my Father to forgive your sins. Then I promise you that you will spend forever and ever with Me in Paradise!” 

THIS objective truth determines everything else about our lives. 

So I’ll repeat it again—

“Our opinions don’t matter if they don’t square with God’s Word on the matter.” —Craig T. Owens

Join me next Sunday as we continue our series looking at the Selahs in the Psalms. 

12 Quotes From “The Autobiography Of Charles Spurgeon”

Charles Spurgeon lived exactly as he preached. What a delight that is! Check out my full book review of his Autobiography by clicking here. Also, be sure to check out my weekly Thursdays With Spurgeon series, where I share longer passages from this Prince of Preachers. 

“My soul hope for heaven lies in the full atonement made upon Calvary’s Cross for the ungodly. On that I firmly rely. I have not the shadow of a hope anywhere else.” 

“While my brief term on earth shall last, I should be the servant of Him who became the Servant of servants for me.” 

“For I am persuaded there are more delights in Christ, yea, more joy in one glimpse of His face than is to be found in all the praises of this harlot-world, and in all the delights that it can yield to us in its sunniest and brightest days.” 

“I have found, in my own spiritual life, that the more rules I lay down for myself, the more sins I commit. The habit of regular morning and evening prayer is one that is indispensable to a believer’s life, but the prescribing of the length of prayer, and the constrained remembrance of so many persons and subjects, may gender unto bondage and strangle prayer rather than assist it.” 

“There is nothing that more tends to strengthen the faith of the young believer than to hear the veteran Christian, covered with scars from the battle, testifying that the service of his Master is a happy service, and that, if he could have served any other master, he would not have done so, for His service is pleasant and His reward everlasting joy.” 

“I went to my chamber and told my little griefs into the ears of Jesus. They were great griefs to me then, though they are nothing now. When on my knees I just whispered them into the ear of Him who had loved me with an everlasting love, oh, it was so sweet! If I had told them to others, they would have told them again, but He, my blessed Confidant, knows all my secrets, and He never tells again.” 

“That God predestined, and yet that man is responsible, are two facts that few can see clearly. They are believed to be inconsistent and contradictory to each other. If, then, I find taught in one part of the Bible that everything is foreordained, that is true; and if I find, in another Scripture, that man is responsible for all his actions, that is true. And it is only my folly that leads me to imagine that these two truths can ever contradict each other.” 

“It was said of an old Greek philosopher that he wrote over his door, ‘None but the learned may enter here.’ But Christ writes over His door, ‘He who is simple, let him turn in hither.’” 

“I used to think, sometimes, that if they had degrees who deserved them, diplomas would often be transferred and given to those who hold the plow handle or work at the carpenter’s bench; for there is often more divinity in the little finger of a plowman than there is in the whole body of some of our modern divines. ‘Don’t they understand divinity?’ someone asks. Yes, in the letter of it, but as to the spirit and life of it, D.D. often means Doubly Destitute.” 😀

“When I came to New Park Street Chapel, it was but a mere handful of people to whom I first preached; yet I can never forget how earnestly they prayed. Sometimes they seemed to plead as though they could really see the Angel of the covenant present with them, and as if they must have a blessing from Him. More than once, we were all so awestruck with the solemnity of the meeting that we sat silent for some moments while the Lord’s power appeared to overshadow us. All I could do on such occasions was to pronounce the benediction and say, ‘Dear friends, we have had the Spirit of God here very manifestly tonight; let us go home and take care not to lose His gracious influences.’ Then down came the blessing; the house was filled with hearers, and many souls were saved. I always give all the glory to God, but I do not forget that He gave me the privilege of ministering from the first to a praying people.” 

“It is the extremity of unwisdom for a young man, fresh from college or from another charge, to suffer himself to be earwigged by a clique, and to be bribed by kindness and flattery to become a partisan, and so to ruin himself with one half of his people.” 

“It is of no use to rise before an assembly and hope to be inspired upon subjects of which one knows nothing. If anyone is so unwise, the result will be that, as he knows nothing, he will probably say it, and the people will not be edified. But I do not see why a man cannot speak extemporaneously upon a subject that he fully understands. Any tradesman, well versed in his line of business, could explain it without needing to retire for meditation, and surely I ought to be equally familiar with the first principles of our holy faith. I ought not to feel at a loss when called upon to speak upon topics that constitute the daily bread of my soul.” 

Poetry Saturday—Where The Roses Never Fade

I am going to a city where the streets with gold are laid
Where the tree of life is blooming and the roses never fade.
Here they bloom but for a season—soon their beauty is decayed
But I am going to a city where the roses never fade. 

In this world we have our troubles, satan’s snares we must evade
We’ll be free from all temptation where the roses never fade.
Here they bloom but for a season—soon their beauty is decayed
But I am going to a city where the roses never fade. 

Loved one gone to be with Jesus in their robes of white arrayed
Now are waiting for my coming where the roses never fade.
Here they bloom but for a season—soon their beauty is decayed
But I am going to a city where the roses never fade. —variously attributed to Elsie Osborn, Jack Osborn, or Jim Miller (the handwritten copy is from Russell Coffield, my wife’s grandfather, and was read at his funeral) 

Poetry Saturday—Walking With God

Alas, my God, that we should be
Such Strangers to each other!
O that as Friends we might agree,
And walk, and talk together!
Thou know’st my Soul doth dearly love
The Place of Thine Abode;
No Music drops so sweet a Sound,
As those two words, My God.

I long not for the Fruit that grows
Within these Gardens here;
I find no sweetness in their Rose
When Jesus is not near:
Thy gracious Presence, O my Christ
Can make a Paradise;
Ah, what are all the goodly Pearls
Unto this Pearl of Price!

May I taste that Communion, Lord,
Thy people have with Thee?
Thy Spirit daily talks with them,
O let it talk with me!
Like Enoch, let me walk with God,
And thus walk out my Day,
Attended with the Heavenly Guards
Upon the King’s High-way.

When wilt Thou come unto me, Lord?
O come, my Lord most dear!
Come near, come nearer, nearer still;
I’m well when Thou art near.
When wilt Thou come unto me, Lord?
I languish for Thy Sight;
Ten Thousand Suns, if Thou art Strange,
Are shades instead of Light.

When wilt Thou come unto me, Lord?
For, till Thou dost appear,
I count each Moment for a Day,
Each Minute for a Year.
Come, Lord and never from me go,
This World’s a darksome Place;
I find no Pleasure here below,
When Thou dost veil Thy Face.

There’s no such Thing as Pleasure here;
My JESUS is my All;
As Thou didst shine or disappear,
My pleasures rise and fall.
Come, spread Thy Savour on my Frame,
No sweetness is so sweet;
Till I get up to sing Thy Name,
Where all Thy Singers meet. —Thomas Shepherd

Poetry Saturday—These Eyes Have Never Seen

Jesus, these eyes have never seen
that radiant form of Thine;
the veil of sense hangs dark between
Thy blessed face and mine.

I see Thee not, I hear Thee not,
yet art Thou oft with me;
and earth hath ne’er so dear a spot
as where I meet with Thee.

Yet, though I have not seen, and still
must rest in faith alone,
I love Thee, dearest Lord, and will,
unseen, but not unknown.

When death these mortal eyes shall seal,
and still this throbbing heart,
the rending veil shall Thee reveal
all glorious as Thou art. —Ray Palmer

Poetry Saturday—Every Fallen Soul

Every fallen soul, by sinning,
Merits everlasting pain;
But Thy love without beginning,
Has redeem’d the world again:
Countless millions
Shall in life, through Jesus reign.

Pause, my soul, adore and wonder:
Ask, “Oh, why such love to me?” 
Grace hath put me in the number
Of the Saviour’s family:
Hallelujah!
Thanks, eternal thanks to Thee!

Since that love had no beginning,
And shall never, never cease;
Keep, oh, keep me, Lord, from sinning;
Guide me in the way of peace:
Make me walk in
All the paths of holiness.

When I quit this feeble mansion,
And my soul returns to Thee,
Let the power of Thy ascension
Manifest itself in me;
Through Thy Spirit,
Give the final victory.

When the angel sounds the trumpet;
When my soul and body join;
When my Saviour comes to judgment,
Bright in majesty divine,
Let me triumph
In Thy righteousness as mine. —Anonymous

Poetry Saturday—The Course Of Prayer

Even so, the course of prayer who knows?
   It springs in silence where it will,
      Springs out of sight, and flows
         At first a lonely rill
But streams shall meet it by and by
   From thousand sympathetic hearts,
      Together swelling high
         Their chant of many parts. 
Unheard by all but angel ears
   The good Cornelius knelt alone,
      Nor dream’d his prayers and tears
         Would help a world undone. 
The while upon his terrac’d roof
   The lov’d Apostle to his Lord
      In silent thought aloof
         For Heavenly vision soar’d. 
Far o’er the glowing western main
   His wistful brow was upward rais’d,
      Where, like an angel’s train,
         The burnish’d water blaz’d. 
The saint beside the ocean pray’d,
   The soldier in his chosen bower
,
      Where all his eye survey’d
         Seem’d sacred in that hour. 
To each unknown his brother’s prayer,
   Yet brethren true in dearest love
      Were they—and now they share
         Fraternal joys above. —John Keble
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