The Pathway to God’s Plan

I would like to read two verses from the twelfth chapter of Romans. I’m going to read them first of all in the version that I have before me and then in J. B. Phillips’s paraphrase—familiar words; you know them well:

“I appeal to you therefore, brothers [and sisters], by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

And then in Phillips’s paraphrase:

“With eyes wide open to the mercies of God, I beg you, my brothers [and sisters], as an act of intelligent worship, to give him your bodies, as a living sacrifice, consecrated to him and acceptable by him. Don’t let the world around you squeeze you into its own mould, but let God re-mould your minds from within, so that you may prove in practice that the plan of God for you is good, meets all his demands and moves towards the goal of true maturity.”

A brief prayer:

Father, what we know not please teach us. What we have not please give us. What we are not please make us. For Jesus’ sake. Amen.

Well, let me ask you a question: Are you convinced that the plan of God for you is good, pleasing, and perfect? Are you personally convinced of that? And secondly: How, then, do we go about discerning that that is actually the case—namely, that God’s plan and purpose for all who are in Christ is a perfect plan?

We know, actually, don’t we, that the reason that God has made us his children is in order that he might make us like his Son, Jesus? And we have that in Romans 8:29: that those whom he called he also predestined, that they might “be conformed to the image of his Son.” When Paul writes to the Corinthians, he reminds them that that is what is happening in their lives. He says, “We … are being transformed”[1]—personal, practical, and immediate—into the likeness of Jesus. And it is 1 John that reminds us that we are now the children of God, but it doesn’t yet appear what we shall be, except that we know that when we see him, we will be like him[2]—so that the eternal purpose of God is to make all of us increasingly like his Son.

You know that famous metaphor that C. S. Lewis employs, when he says if you imagine your life as being a living house—and so Jesus has come to live in it. And at first it’s just sort of routine repairs, making sure the plumbing works, making sure the roof doesn’t leak, and so on. And then he says, “[And all of a sudden], he [begins to knock] the house about in a way that hurts abominably.”[3] And at first we don’t understand what’s going on. And then it dawns on us as we journey our way through lives, that through good times and bad times, encouragements and disappointment, failure, tears, joys, and sorrows, that we thought that God’s plan was that we would just be a kind of nice little cottage, but he actually is purposing to turn the place into a palace, a royal residence in which he lives.

Now, with that by way of introduction, let me suggest to you that here in Romans 12:1–2, we have, if you like, the pathway to discovering, to discerning that God’s plan and purpose for us is exactly as Paul writes. And the first piece of that puzzle is the offering of my body to God as a living sacrifice.

The Offering of Our Bodies

Now, the picture that Paul is employing is an Old Testament picture. You will remember, as you’ve read your Old Testament, that there were sacrifices that God demanded for the atoning of sin—a propitiatory sacrifice. And then, subsequent to that, there were sacrifices that were offered as dedicatory sacrifices, as thanksgiving for all that God has done in the atoning work.

And that is exactly what Paul is using here. He’s saying, “You must recognize all that God has done for you in Jesus. He has done for us what we could never do for ourselves—set us free from our rebellious past, made us new according to his plan. And now,” he says, “why don’t you… I appeal to you,” he says. “Brothers and sisters, you offer your bodies to him, in the same way that others would have taken a water or a wine and thrown it up onto the altar.”

Paul actually, himself, as he gets to the end of his life, writing to Timothy, describes his departure in those terms. He says, “I’m getting ready for my departure. My life is being poured out like a drink offering.”[4] “Poured out like a drink offering.” Someone would have looked at that and said, “Oh, what a dreadful waste of a life, that he should go so soon!” Paul doesn’t see it in those terms.

And the appeal that he makes here is “according to the mercies of God.” We’ve sung of it already: that a holy God has come down to us in Jesus; that our only answer in life and in death is what he has done on our behalf; that God, who is rich in mercy, because of his great love towards us, made us alive together with Christ.[5]

There were a number of photographs that I was privileged to enjoy—or endure, depending on how you want to look at it—before I arrived here. It’s nice to meet people—felt like a wedding reception, actually, there were so many photographs. And I wasn’t remotely interested in saying to the photographer, “Excuse me? Before you take this photograph, will you just please make sure that this photograph is going to do me justice?” The reason I didn’t say that is to preserve my pride. Because I don’t want the photographer to immediately reply, “Pastor Begg, what you require is not justice but mercy. We can see your face.” And that would be perfectly fair. That would be perfectly fair.

And, of course, that is Portia to Shylock, remember:

Though justice be thy plea, consider this:
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation.[6]

The wonder of God’s mercy to us in Jesus is that he does not give us what our sins deserve, but he grants to us what is not ours ever to earn or aspire to apart from his grace.

Now, this discovery is along the pathway of sacrifice—that we offer our bodies as a sacrifice. Yes, our bodies. Our bodies. This is not a call to some kind of subhuman piety, but this is a flesh-and-blood reality. Without our bodies, none of us would be sitting next to the person next to us. Without our bodies, we have no way of relating to one another. I hope no one has told you, young lady, that the gentleman who has been chasing you all around the campus only loves you because of your mind. It isn’t true, I guarantee you! He may be impressed with your intellectual capacity, but he is not chasing an intellectual capacity around the campus. He is tracing the embodiment of that mind in you.

The wonder of God’s mercy to us in Jesus is that he does not give us what our sins deserve, but he grants to us what is not ours ever to earn or aspire to apart from his grace.

And so, when it says, “your bodies as a living sacrifice,” we remind ourselves: “You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore [glorify] God with your [body].”[7] With your body. What is that going to look like? What is that going to mean? It’s going to mean at least this: that I am offering to God everything that I am, all that I have, all that I think, all that I feel, all the influence that I can have on another person, all the differences that I have the opportunity to make in walking my earthly pilgrimage in this world.

Are you convinced? And if you discern the reality first on the pathway of sacrifice, how are we doing? We might just summarize that in terms of three straightforward words.

First of all, it is a living sacrifice. Sacrifices, as we read them in the Bible, were dead. And the picture of the breaking and the disposal of that is different from what it means for you or for me, because if I’m going to be a living sacrifice, I have to stay alive and prove it.

Secondly: that it is to be a lasting sacrifice. The Christian life, as someone has said, is “a long obedience in the same direction.”[8] It’s not a few hundred-yard sprints. It’s a cross-country run that lasts for the rest of your life. I speak to you as someone who was once your age, but it seems like a while ago, and yet the challenge remains: “Alistair, are you convinced that God’s plan and purpose is perfect and pleasing? And if so, are you then offering a living, lasting, and,” thirdly, “logical sacrifice to God?”

The translation varies. I think the one I read was—“sacrifice,” that it is a “reasonable”[9] worship. The word there, actually, in Greek is logikos. In other words, there is an inherent logic to this.

Now, I’ve been married to my wife now for fifty years, and I hope she’s as pleased as I am. But I met her when she was thirteen. I was sixteen. We wrote… We wrote… Yeah. At that stage, we lived three hundred miles from each other’s house. For four of the seven years that we wrote letters, we were separated by the Atlantic Ocean. So I don’t want to hear sob stories from you about your emails have not been arriving just when you hoped.

But here’s the reason I’m mentioning this: I think it’s an old country song. It goes along these lines of

As long as old men sit and talk about the weather,
As long as old women sit and talk about old men,
If you wonder how long I’ll be faithful,
[Then] I’ll … tell you again [and again],
[’Cause] I’m gonna love you forever …,
Forever and ever, amen.[10]

Now, now, forget your girlfriend or your boyfriend for the moment. Am I prepared, by my life and my lifestyle, to affirm those professions of genuine, lasting, sacrificial love? That’s the question. I’m not walking around with my wedding certificate on me. I’m not, if someone asks if I’m married, going to show you some evidence that one day in Philadelphia, I said, “Yeah, I will commit myself to these things.” That is a long time ago, but this is now.

And when did you come to faith in Jesus? Were you a child in Sunday school? Did you profess to follow Jesus and long to follow him? And here you are, in your body, right now, in this place. Are you convinced?

The Stubborn Refusal to Conform

If that’s the first part on the pathway, the second part is not only that we offer our bodies as a living sacrifice but that we have a stubborn refusal to be conformed to the standards and the agendas of the present evil age. A stubborn refusal. That’s what he says: “Do not be conformed.” So I’m not going to—not if I’m on this path.

Every generation brings its own particular challenges. I would not be so bold as to suggest that I know the challenges that you are facing. I may have an inkling of them, but I’m not sitting where you are sitting. But from the observation perspective of my life, it would seem to me that you have grown up and are growing up confronted by three big lies. Three big lies. And they’re these: number one, that there is no creator God; number two, that there is no absolute morality; and number three, that there is no ultimate truth.

So, the world in which we live has lost its story. The pieces of the jigsaw of life have apparently all been tipped out on the floor. Nobody can find the picture that was originally on the front of the box, and so people are trying to make their way along this forlorn path. And Paul says—paraphrased by J. B. Phillips—“[Do not allow] the world … [to] squeeze you into its own mould.”

Well, somebody says, “Well, this sounds rather negative to me. And I don’t like to be negative.” Well, you should be negative, except when you’re supposed to be positive. After all, eight out of the Ten Commandments are prohibitions. The only other two are “[Remember] your father and … mother” and “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.”[11] But all the other eight are “Don’t do this.” “Don’t do this.”

Someone says, “But I’m a spiritual person. I don’t like to get tied up in that kind of material.” Listen: You are not, and I am not, a spiritual person in the biblical sense except as the use of my body is characterized by conscious, intelligent, consecrated devotion to the service of God. When Paul writes to Titus, encouraging him to make sure that he’s instructing his congregation effectively, he reminds him, “The grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation …, [teaching] us to [say no to] ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age.”[12]

I am not a spiritual person in the biblical sense except as the use of my body is characterized by conscious, intelligent, consecrated devotion to the service of God.

Now, I feel confident that I can quote Margaret Thatcher from this place this morning. I’m sure she would have been happy if she was here; I don’t know if she had the privilege. But this is Thatcher. You know who she was—the Iron Lady. She said, “If you just set out to be liked…” Nobody doesn’t want to be liked. But if we make being liked—especially whichever context in which we move—“If you set out to be liked, you will be prepared to compromise on anything at any time, and you will achieve nothing.” Nothing!

It’s a fascinating thing to me that people need to know how many “likes” you’ve got. How many “likes”! Does it really matter that much, the framework of life in which we live? Are we going to be tyrannized by the possibility that those who don’t share our views could possibly hate us—not because of our personality, not because of the way in which we are living our lives, but because we refuse, resolutely, to be squeezed into the mold which is the mold of people living without God and without hope in the world.[13]

The Transformation of Our Minds

Of course, the flip side of that, and the third piece of it and the last of the three pieces, then follows: “Do not be conformed …, but be transformed.” “Be transformed”—so that the Spirit of God at work within our lives, working from within, makes us different.

When Paul writes about it in Romans chapter 8—Romans chapter 8, which begins, remember, “There is therefore now no condemnation to them [that] are in Christ Jesus,”[14] as we walk after the leading and guiding of the Spirit according to the Word—and he says, you know, “You … are not in the flesh but in the Spirit.”[15] And then he makes it clear: “The mind of the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.”[16]

Young people, the inward transformation of our minds is the only effective safeguard—the only effective safeguard—against outward conformity to the spirit of the age. It is a transformation that is from within that changes what is without. It is a new life that produces a new lifestyle. When Paul writes, remember, to the Philippians, he says, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. For it is God [who is at work] in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure.”[17]

I wonder: When’s the last time, perhaps on your own, just as you read your Bible in the morning and you thought along these lines, you said the words of an old song?

Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me;
Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me;
Break me, melt me, mold me, fill me;
Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me.[18]

I have discovered in the journey of my life that every sin is an inside job. Every sin is an inside job. Because we are battling on three fronts: against the world and the flesh and the devil. We’re the ones that open the door. That’s why our minds matter. Did you learn this when you were younger? “Sow a thought, reap an action; sow an action, reap a habit; sow a habit, reap a character; sow a character, reap a destiny”—living out what Christ is working in.

Now, you will notice… And this is why I’ve gone at the text this way. I’ve never, as it were, started at the end and tried to work my way back to it. I only thought of that last night. And I’m thinking right now, “Maybe you should have gone with the original plan,” but that’s for another time. But you will notice that it says, “Don’t be conformed to the world; be transformed in the renewing of your mind, that by testing…” In the NIV it says, “Then…” “Then you will be able to test and approve.” “That by testing”—so that you will be able to test and approve.

In other words, how do we find out? Well, it’s a stirring call, isn’t it? It’s a call to respond to the transforming power of the gospel. All of us, in living our Christian lives, understand that it is a whole series of new beginnings. We never know when we’re going to come to one of those lampposts along the jog of life that just arrests us for a moment, and we stop, and we realize, “God, you have brought me here, to this moment and this time, for this reason.”

You may be sitting out there today, and you’re saying to yourself, “I don’t know if this guy has been reading my journal. I don’t know what’s going on. But this stuff about my body—this is really getting to me. This notion of it being lasting and lifelong and logical is stirring in my heart.” Well then, receive it as from God.

One of my favorite hymns may be a funeral hymn. I don’t know. I haven’t thought about that yet. But as it comes to mind, it goes like this. Remember, his appeal is on the basis of mercy—on “the mercies of God.” It goes like this:

When all thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I’m lost
In wonder, love, and praise. …

Unnumbered comforts to my soul,
[Your] tender care bestowed
Before my infant heart conceived
From whom those comforts flowed.

Get this verse:

When in the slippery paths of youth
With heedless steps I ran,
[Your hand] unseen conveyed me safe
And [brought] me up to man.[19]

Oh, surely some of you can identify particularly with that—these slippery paths, the tendency to go my own way, to say, “It’s my body; I can do as I please.” “It is my life. Go ahead with your own life, and leave me alone”[20]—Billy Joel. So, that notion has to be brought under the jurisdiction of Scripture.

I have learned from my Bible. I’ve learned from my teachers. I have learned from example and continue to learn from them all. C. T. Studd played cricket for England. (You wouldn’t be impressed.) He went to Cambridge. (You should be impressed.) He was from a very wealthy family. (Okay.) But he gave his life as a missionary. He walked away from all of his prestige, everything that he had, according to an inherent logic. This is what C. T. Studd writes: “If Jesus Christ be God and died for me, then no sacrifice that I can ever make for him could ever be too great.”[21] It’s logical! It’s the logical deduction from the fact that Jesus Christ is Savior, Lord, and King. He reigns. We are under his jurisdiction. If he did this for me, what’s my plan—no matter where you’re going to go in the world?

Jesus Christ is Savior, Lord, and King. He reigns. We are under his jurisdiction.

And again, I say to you, I’ve been held by those who’ve gone before. Wilberforce, 1787, October 28. (I remember it well!) He said in his journal, “God Almighty has set before me two great objects,” one, “the suppression of the slave trade,” and two “the reformation of manners [in this nation].”[22] “Manners” there equals “morals.” “Morals.” And in 1797, bemoaning something of the structure of the world in which he continued to live, this is what he says: “The only solid hope for the well-being of our country”—and we can just flip it now to the States if you wish.

The only solid hope for the well-being of our country depends not so much upon her fleets and armies, the wisdom of her rulers, or the spirit of her people, as on the realization that she still contains many, who, in a degenerate age, love and obey the gospel of Christ. My humble trust is that the prayers of these may still prevail and that, for their sake, God may still favor us.[23]

That he “may still favor us.”

Don’t you see, as you look out on whatever the future holds for you—in arts, in journalism, in science, in whatever it might be—the great privilege of being just one of those voices? One of those who, in the midst of a generation that squeezes the life out of us if it could, that we remain standing, prepared to be a living sacrifice, happy to stand stubbornly against the spirit of the age, prepared to know what it is for God to grab ahold of us and change us from the inside out.

Years ago, in London, I spoke with one of my friends at an embankment mission. That’s down-and-out people on the Thames. The people who were there had come off the streets. Nobody listened to me. Nobody listened to my friend. In fact, they made it very obvious. One opened a newspaper right in front of me as I was speaking, and when my friend got going, another fellow took out a large Timex alarm clock and set it to ring right in the middle of his talk. The only person that they listened to was a girl called Mary Fisher.

Mary Fisher. Nobody knows her name. Google it. You could find her in Newsweek a long time ago. Because Mary Fisher went to Zimbabwe to teach children in a school. And in that school, the soldiers came and blitzed the place, and she died. When they found her belongings—her mom and dad took the belongings home—there was a cassette tape—yes—of Mary Fisher singing in Shona to the children in the school this:

[To] me to live is Christ, [and] to die is gain,
To hold his hand and walk his narrow way;
There[’s] no peace, no joy, no thrill
Like walking in his will.
[To] me to live is Christ, to die is gain.[24]

Father, thank you that you have loved us so much to send Jesus. Thank you, Jesus, that you came. Holy Spirit, come, quicken us, we pray, that we might live to the praise of your glory. And we ask it in Jesus’ name. Amen.

---

[1] 2 Corinthians 3:18 (ESV).

[2] See 1 John 3:2.

[3] C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (1952), book 4, chap. 9.

[4] 2 Timothy 4:6 (paraphrased).

[5] See Ephesians 2:4–5.

[6] William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice, 4.1.

[7] 1 Corinthians 6:19–20 (NIV).

[8] Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil: Prelude to a Philosophy of the Future, trans. Helen Zimmern (New York: Macmillan, 1907), 107, quoted in Eugene H. Peterson, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society, 2nd ed. (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Books, 2000), 17.

[9] Romans 12:1 (KJV).

[10] Paul Overstreet and Don Schlitz, “Forever and Ever, Amen” (1987).

[11] Exodus 20:8, 12 (ESV). See also Deuteronomy 5:12, 16.

[12] Titus 2:11–12 (ESV).

[13] See Ephesians 2:12.

[14] Romans 8:1 (KJV).

[15] Romans 8:9 (ESV).

[16] Romans 8:6 (paraphrased).

[17] Philippians 2:12–13 (KJV).

[18] Daniel Iverson, “Spirit of the Living God” (1926).

[19] Joseph Addison, “When All Thy Mercies, O My God” (1712).

[20] Billy Joel, “My Life” (1978). Lyrics lightly altered.

[21] C. T. Studd, quoted in Norman Grubb, C. T. Studd: Athlete and Pioneer (Harrisburg, PA: Evangelical Press, 1933), 145. Paraphrased.

[22] William Wilberforce, quoted in Robert Isaac Wilberforce and Samuel Wilberforce, The Life of William Wilberforce (London: John Murray, 1838), 1:149.

[23] William Wilberforce, A Practical View of Christianity, ed. Kevin Charles Belmonte (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996), 252. Paraphrased.

[24] John White, “For Me to Live Is Christ” (1969).