As we navigate through the various facets of Christ's responses to hostility, they highlight His unwavering control and grace, painting a vivid picture of strength that is rooted in self-mastery. By examining how Christ engaged with both His disciples and adversaries, they underscore the importance of responding to conflict with clarity and truth rather than succumbing to anger or resentment. This model of love becomes a benchmark for listeners, particularly those in marriages, as they are encouraged to adopt a similar posture of love that is steady and forgiving, particularly when misunderstandings arise. The discourse also emphasizes that true love does not keep a record of wrongs, inviting listeners to reflect on their own tendencies to hold onto past grievances. In the latter part of the episode, the speakers address the often-overlooked realities of marriage as a crucible for personal growth and character development. They articulate that marriage is designed not just to reveal our spouses but to expose our own hearts, challenging listeners to confront their weaknesses and embrace the opportunity for growth. By framing love as a deliberate choice rather than a mere emotional response, the speakers encourage a radical shift in how we approach relationships. They conclude by reinforcing the call to love that mirrors Christ's unwavering commitment, urging listeners to let go of past offenses and cultivate a spirit of grace and understanding in their marriages.

Takeaways:

• In marriage, true love is not just about feelings but about consistent, purposeful actions.
• The struggle to forgive and move on from past grievances is a common challenge in relationships.
• Husbands are encouraged to reflect Christ's love in their homes, emphasizing patience and understanding.
• The path to personal growth often involves facing uncomfortable truths about ourselves in the context of marriage.

Well, thanks so much for joining us in the study.

This day we're looking at, continuing to look at, anyway, this series of thoughts on transforming ourselves.

You know, Romans 12, Paul the Apostle tells us not to be conformed to the world, but be transformed by the renewing of the mind.

We've been discussing this at length and trying to develop a description of God's people and what that looks like.

It's a lifetime spent in transforming ourselves that we might be conformed to the image of Jesus Christ.

We were looking at Ephesians 5 in connection with men and their accountability as heads of their house and of their wife in particular.

As such, they are to love their wives as Christ loved the church.

Well, we can't begin to just leave that like it is without looking at what love is.

So if we're to love like Christ loved and understand what true love is, then we've engaged a study in First Corinthians 13, one of the best descriptions of love that there is.

And we want to certainly look at Christ as we come to the end of this discussion, not today, but at some point later, we will come to the end of this discussion by focusing on Christ as the epitome of true love as taught in the Bible.

But today I want to just begin talking a little bit about the challenge, because the conduct of Christ was never easy.

I mean, he lived a very difficult life, a very trying life.

And his love was not demonstrated just because he suffered and he endured it.

But it's also demonstrated in the way he would respond to those difficulties.

I mean, hostilities surrounded his life.

He was accused, he was tested, he was insulted and doubted, and was eventually condemned.

Yet the defining feature of his whole life was not merely again in enduring those, but rather in a disciplined response.

That's the key.

He was always in control.

When he was insulted, he refused to retaliate.

Peter summarizes this pattern in in 1 Peter 2:23 when he was reviled, he did not revile in return.

When he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly.

So the restraint displayed here was not weakness, it was just simply mastery.

He could control himself.

He possessed all authority.

He didn't have to endure such insults and such mistreatment.

He had all the power in the world, and yet he would govern himself rather than answering insult with insult or loud shouting matches with another.

Oh, I had plenty of those in my younger days, and as soon as it was over, I recognized how silly and foolish it looked.

But Christ never stooped to that at least we never see any signs of that even remotely.

He was discouraged from time to time with his disciples, but he would never gave up on them.

And when he was confronted with the accusations intended to discredit him by his enemies, his Jewish leaders, he responded with measured clarity and discussion and truth.

Rather than using anger.

The religious leaders frequently tried to trap him to do it publicly too, would try to come up with some difficult questions about the law and catch him in some inconsistency.

But instead of acting defensively, he answered with precision.

He exposed the error of their reasoning without descending into this hostility.

His responses were controlled, it was purposeful and spot on.

But.

But it was directed toward truth.

See, rather than personal vindication or getting even or showing them up or proving he was right.

He wasn't moved by those things.

And then when his own disciples misunderstood him, and they did often, he responded with patience.

As I said earlier, they often failed to grasp the meaning of his teaching.

They misunderstood his whole purpose in coming.

They argued among themselves as to who would be the greatest, after Jesus had already told them who would be greatest, and those that would be servants, as they didn't understand that, obviously.

And sometimes they resisted his instruction altogether.

But they were looking with the carnal mind.

They were viewing things physically.

And they were not able then to make that transition and to transform themselves by the renewing of their mind.

And this is what we've started off with as far back as Romans 8, when we were talking about having the mind of the Spirit versus the carnal mind.

It's all the same topic, it's the same emphasis when misunderstood.

He continued to work with them, he corrected them, he explained things, he was trying to form those things in them.

And of course he could have easily abandoned them and just given up in frustration, but he didn't do that.

And then finally when he was rejected, he didn't allow rejection to redirect his mission or change his course.

I've always found it a bit puzzling that human beings can actually form a theology that says that Christ intended to start his kingdom and establish it, but because the Jews rejected Him, he changed his mind and established the church instead.

Friends, the ecclesia, which is God's called out chosen people, they are his kingdom.

The kingdom is not a carnal institution.

The kingdom is Christ's rule in the hearts of his people.

And that is the ekklesia, that is the called out.

So we're not talking about Christ, his plans being thwarted because the Jews rejected him.

He had a plan, he accomplished it.

He fulfilled everything he said he would fulfill.

And these responses, you know, they reveal something very critical about Christ, his power.

And yet it was power under control.

That's why he could be said to be the meekest of all.

The responses that Christ gave to others also tells us something about the love that's commanded in Ephesians.

This is where we started in our discussion of the husband loving his wife.

Because Christ's love was not defined primarily by his emotions, but by disciplined conduct, right?

Hostility didn't dictate his behavior.

The misunderstandings didn't produce any kind of withdrawal and giving up and saying, oh, well, I can't make it any plainer.

You're on your own.

Failure in others didn't extinguish his commitment to them.

And that's how love is.

It remains governed.

It remains deliberate and purposeful.

And this is why the apostle points husbands to Christ as the model.

The command is not simply to feel affectionate.

We misunderstand that word so much because we want to put emotions in it.

We're talking about a love that remains steady when circumstances would normally provoke reaction.

And so as we think about the significance of these responses, they become quite clear when we return to the command in Ephesians and think about Paul's instruction to husbands to care for their wives, to treat them kindly, he commands them to love as Christ loved the called out.

Now the pattern described becomes the measure of that husband's love.

Just as Christ governed himself under insult, just as he remained patient under misunderstanding, just as he pursued to restore rather than to retaliate and return insult with insult, the husband is called to exercise that same disciplined love within his home.

You see, the comparison removes any shallow definition of love.

It calls for men to love that's steady even when they're provoked, restrained when anger would be so easy to show, and sacrificial when self interest would be natural.

It is in this way that the conduct of Christ is not simply an example to admire.

It's a pattern to imitate.

For you and me as husbands, men, he is the perfect example to follow.

See his example, understand why we must imitate his lead.

As we come down to the next point of emphasis in First Corinthians 13, we've discussed them pretty much, except the next one in line of discussion is love does not record wrongs.

It doesn't keep a record of wrongs.

This is perhaps one of the most important discussions.

No relationship on earth that reveals the true condition of the heart more than marriage.

And before marriage, a man and woman Usually know one another under careful, chosen circumstances.

They spend the evenings together, take trips together, celebrate birthdays, enjoy conversations about their hopes and dreams and what they want for their family.

They may make plans for the future.

Each of them sees the other at his or her best.

Both are naturally inclined to overlook the weaknesses of the others because why?

Well, affection is fresh, anticipation is high.

Courtship, you see, tends to magnify virtues but minimize the faults.

Not to mention the fact that we're more prone to accentuate and on our best behavior and not show any of our faults.

It's not that either person is being deceptive.

It's just simply that the relationship has not yet been tested.

Because when the ordinary pressures of life come, believe me, we will be put to the test.

And that's where we shine or fail.

That's where we demonstrate our weaknesses or our strengths.

Marriage, you see, changes all of those early misconceptions or those early thoughts.

The wedding ceremony itself changes very little about the individual standing before the preacher and exchanging vows.

And the vows don't instantly remove selfishness.

They don't eliminate pride and impatience.

They don't do anything with one's insecurities and their sinful habits.

Because here are two imperfect people.

Let me emphasize that.

Two very imperfect people that stand before Almighty God and promise a lifelong faithfulness to one another.

And when they leave, wherever they're married, they carry with them the same hearts they possessed before they entered it.

The difference is that those hearts are now joined together in a covenant, a covenant from which there is no daily escape.

They are bound by God and vowed to be to one another the man who was.

You know, he once returned to his own apartment after a evening together.

He now wakes up every morning beside the same woman.

Every morning.

The woman who once anticipated every date now shares every ordinary responsibility of life with her husband.

Romance slowly gives way to routine.

And routine has a remarkable ability to reveal what romance often conceals.

I think God designed it that way.

That really deserves some careful consideration because it changes how we should think about marriage.

Most couples enter marriage believing that its primary purpose is companionship and happiness and mutual fulfillment.

Those blessings certainly belong in a marriage, but they are not its highest purpose.

God's highest purpose has always been conformity to the image of his Son.

And long before.

He's interested in making us comfortable, he's interested in making us holy.

We're told in 2 Corinthians 7, as Paul says it, that we should perfect holiness in the fear of God.

Long before a man is concerned with his Convenience, or God is concerned about our convenience.

He's more concerned about our character.

So marriage is one of the greatest instruments for accomplishing that purpose.

As I've said before, it's where all this comes to light.

Think about the way God has always shaped his people throughout the Scriptures.

He didn't make Abraham a man of faith by giving him an easy life.

He called him to leave everything familiar to him and go on a journey toward a land that he'd never seen.

And then, after promising him a son, God waited until both Abraham and Sarah were physically incapable of producing children, or at least it appeared that way.

And here they are, old age and never fulfilled, never had the promise.

Until finally, after giving Abraham the son for whom he had waited for many years, God commanded them then to place his very son on an altar and kill him, sacrifice him.

Faith was not developed in moments of comfort, friends.

It was developed in moments of testing and trial and hardship.

Think of Joseph, which we will have opportunity to return and look at his life again.

But Joseph was not prepared to govern Egypt while wearing his father's coat of many colors.

His character was being formed in a pit dug by jealous brothers.

It was strengthened in Potiphar's house when integrity cost him any advancement.

It matured in prison when faithfulness appeared to bring no reward at all.

And before Joseph could rule over millions, God first taught him how to trust while forgotten by everybody except the Lord.

You see, this is the character of men who grow and come to be the men that they are.

Moses is another great example.

There's not really one great leader who doesn't exemplify this principle.

He learned leadership in the solitude of the wilderness.

It wasn't easy.

David became the shepherd king while fleeing through caves from a jealous ruler, Saul.

And think of Daniel's convictions.

They were strengthened while he was in exile.

Esther discovered courage in the palace and did a very noble but difficult thing, realizing that she could very well lose her life.

Peter's pride was broken in the courtyard where he denied his Lord.

And throughout Scripture, the pattern is remarkably consistent.

God forms his servants through circumstances that expose what lies hidden within their hearts.

Marriage belongs to that same school.

Now, why would we expect God to prepare a husband for Christlike love without giving him some opportunities to deny himself and to face those challenges?

How could patience, for example, ever mature if there were no occasions requiring it?

And how could forgiveness become more than a concept of biblical teaching unless someone actually sinned against us?

How could sacrificial love develop if sacrifice were never required?

You see, God has not designed marriage just to reveal our spouse to us.

He's designed marriage to reveal us to ourselves.

That's one of the hardest lessons for a husband to learn.

And I'm picking on men.

That's our topic.

I think it probably goes both ways.

But most men enter marriage believing that their greatest challenge will be learning to live with another person's imperfections.

And they soon discover that God's greater concern is really exposing their own weakness.

The husband who thought himself patient all of a sudden discovers how quickly irritation arises when his plans are interrupted, or when she just pushes the wrong buttons to challenge him in some way, and he loses his cool.

Here he thought he was patient, and he discovers he's not as patient as he thought he was.

The man who imagines himself generous suddenly notices how tightly he clings on to his preferences.

The husband, convinced that he possesses remarkable self control, finds himself speaking words that that he never imagined would come out of his mouth.

Marriage didn't create those weaknesses.

You can't blame her for just uncovered them.

Do you see the point?

The home becomes the mirror.

Mirrors are often uncomfortable because they tell us the truth about what we really look like.

A mirror doesn't create the wrinkles, friends, it reveals them.

It doesn't create the dirt on a face and the smeared lipstick.

It exposes what's already there.

And so, in much the same way, marriage reflects the condition of our hearts.

And for a husband who repeatedly blames his wife for every conflict, he might be unknowingly rejecting one of God's greatest gifts.

Because rather than asking, what's wrong with her, he ought to first be asking, what is God revealing about me?

Now, those two questions lead entirely different directions.

The first one looks outward and the second one looks inward.

Which one are you?

Do you look inward or do you look outward for someone else to blame?

You see, because the first one, who's looking outside of himself on, always finds somebody else to blame, and oftentimes it's his wife.

But the second one, the one that looks inward, they're seeking someone to change, and they're looking at themselves.

So it's no accident that our Lord spent far more time addressing the condition of the heart than the circumstances surrounding it.

Again and again, he refused to allow his hearers to place the responsibility somewhere else.

I think of Luke 13, when those Jews were talking about how terrible sinners they were, where the blood of the animal sacrifices were mingled with the blood of those who were slain and killed in the temple.

They must have been awful sinners.

For that to have happened?

Or what about those upon whom the tower of Siloam when it fell and killed?

They must have been awful sinners for that to have occurred.

And that was their logic.

And Jesus said in both instances to emphasize the point that we're making here, no, but except you repent, you will likewise perish.

You see, you need to refocus your attention off of everybody else around you that you can blame and put it straight on yourself.

That's where it belongs.

The Pharisees, when they condemned the disciples for eating with unwashed hands, Jesus redirected the discussion entirely.

Do you remember?

The real problem, he explained, was not what entered a man from without, but what proceeded from within.

And he named some of them evil thoughts, adulteries, murders, covetousness, deceit, pride.

These did not originate in difficult circumstances.

They came from the human heart itself.

Marriage simply provides the circumstances in which the heart reveals itself.

And that's why every husband must eventually answer a question that cannot be avoided.

What will I do with my wife's failures?

And that's why this discussion is relevant, about taking no record of wrongs.

Notice, I didn't ask whether she'll fail.

I said she will.

So will you, and what will you do with it?

So every husband will someday hear words that wound him.

Every husband will experience some disappointment.

He'll watch his wife make decisions he wishes she had not made or.

Or say things to others that really hurts.

She may misunderstand him.

She will speak impatiently.

She may overlook responsibilities.

And she'll forget important dates.

She may have moments when fear or exhaustion or frustration takes over and influences her behavior in some way that's not becoming or that's discouragement to him.

But none of those realities should surprise us, because none of them surprises God.

That's not the issue.

The real question is not whether wrongs are going to occur.

The real question is what happens after they do?

And this is precisely where many marriages begin to travel in different directions.

Because some couples learn to resolve conflict honestly, forgive one another deeply, and move on.

They try not to take things too seriously and realize that we are weak and we'll do better and we're sorry, but they don't get too disturbed about it.

But others, they begin accumulating unfinished businesses.

Their arguments, for example, are never completely settled.

Sometimes it just comes up out of the blue, because it never was a period was never put on it.

And so something comes up, it reminds them of the issue.

And here they just come out again with out of the blue.

And it kind of surprises.

The other spouse.

Why is that?

Well, that's because the heart has quietly stored away what the lips have claimed to forgive.

You see, resentment is seldom loud.

In its earliest stages, it just whispers.

It quietly records another disappointment and it just files it away, files away another painful conversation.

And it gives a short little description of what went on.

Oftentimes it's entirely wrong or entirely exaggerated.

But they've got it logged and it preserves another broken expectation.

And so over the years, the husband develops what Paul describes as a ledger.

The language that Paul uses is fascinating here because it comes from the world of accounting.

An accountant records debts with great precision.

Every obligation is carefully entered into the books.

Nothing is forgotten because everything has to eventually be settled.

Now, that's the image that Paul deliberately borrows when he says that love thinks no evil.

Love doesn't keep books on the failures of another person.

Love refuses to become the accountant of someone else's sin.

Now, how different that is from the natural tendency of the human heart.

Our flesh enjoys bookkeeping.

Carnal minded people enjoy bookkeeping.

It enjoys remembering.

It enjoys reviewing.

It enjoys rehearsing conversations long after they've ended.

Have you ever noticed how vividly the mind remembers an offense?

Years have passed without recalling an ordinary conversation.

And yet a careless sentence spoken in anger 20 years earlier can often be repeated almost word for word.

Why is that?

Why does the mind cling so tightly to painful memories?

Well, the answer is deeper than memory itself.

I think we remember it because the heart has not yet released the debt.

And that's the beginning of every ledger.

It's not paper, it's not ink, it's not even memory.

It's the quiet determination of another person's debt that remains unpaid.

And that truth begins to expose why keeping a record of wrongs is so spiritually dangerous and detrimental.

We often imagine that we're simply remembering what happened, when in reality, we're frequently doing much more than just remembering.

We're preserving evidence because we think we have to prepare arguments that may someday be needed.

We may even write them down.

We're keeping accounts so that when another disagreement arises, we possess sufficient proof to establish our case.

You see that?

And that's what.

And that's why we do it.

That's the reason for it.

Without realizing it, we slowly exchange the role of a husband for the role of a prosecutor.

And that transition seldom happens overnight.

It usually is a gradual thing and many men never even recognize it.

They still consider themselves maybe loving husbands.

They still provide for their families.

And they may still be A part of their care provide for them.

They may still pray with their wives.

Even.

Yet, somewhere beneath the surface, another relationship has quietly developed.

They've entered into a relationship with the past.

Instead of allowing yesterday's failures to remain yesterday, they carry them into today.

And every new disagreement awakens old disagreements and old disappointments until the present can any longer discuss anything without bringing up the past.

The question is obvious.

Why do people do that?

And why would a Christian husband, a man who claims to sincerely believe in forgiveness, quietly preserve a record of offense?

You see, the answer cannot simply be that he possesses a good memory.

Some men have excellent memories and never become bitter.

I mean, they couldn't tell you what happened.

They may remember something was unpleasant, but they couldn't give you the details.

But others, you know, they remember everything in a remarkable ease.

Yet they can remember painful conversations from 15 years earlier, almost word for word.

But the issue is not memory.

The issue is value.

The heart remembers what it treasures.

You remember that.

Jesus says, from the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks, and where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

That truth is seen throughout scripture.

You know, you remember birthdays because they matter to us.

We remember the birth of our children because those moments changed our lives.

And we remember the day we obeyed the gospel because it marked the beginning of a new life.

And so the heart naturally clings to what it considers valuable.

But unfortunately, the fallen heart can also treasure injuries and insults.

That sounds strange.

Until we stop to examine ourselves, we would never say, I enjoy remembering how someone hurt me.

But consciously, we hate those memories.

And yet, beneath the surface, they often serve a purpose.

They justify us.

They explain our bitterness.

They strengthen our arguments.

They make us feel righteous in comparison to the person who wronged us.

The injury quietly becomes part of who we are.

Well, our time is up for today.

I'd like to return to this thought and pick up where we left off.

I trust you have a good day and a pleasant week.