Vineyard Church | Weekly Update February 7, 2024

Jesus as our comforter… This is a weird way to start a blog in the midst of our Defiance series, especially with all the sermons I have preached that call us away from comfort-based decisions. There is so much in scripture that presents Jesus as the one that brings comfort. In his second letter to the church in Corinth, Paul calls God the God of all Comfort (2 Cor 1:3), and to the church in Thessalonica, he writes:

16 Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by his grace gave us eternal comfort and a wonderful hope, 17 comfort you and strengthen you in every good thing you do and say. 2 Thessalonians 2:16-17 (NLT)

Clearly, comfort is something we are to associate with the presence of God. That being true, why is it so uncomfortable to follow him, and if comfort were something we are to associate with God, why are we called out of it? As long as we are asking questions, what is this comfort scripture speaks of, and why does it not look the way I think it ought?

Coming to this from another angle, we can see discomfort attack on a multi-directional front: past, present, and future. We have past tragedy, hardship, and conflict; we have current difficulties and trouble; and we have anxiety for the future that all tend to work together to present outcomes of worry, stress, hardship, and guilt. 

These things do not bring comfort; they feel like the antithesis of comfort, and the fact that we can follow Jesus and the discomfort remains and persists seems to call into question the scripture at the top of the page. How can all of this be reconciled; how can we experience the God of all comfort in the era of all discomfort?

A starting place emerges from the Greek word that the Gospel writers and Paul use for Comforter, a word we read as Holy Spirit. This Greek word is Paraclete (para-cleat) and does not have an exact English translation. Words that get us into the neighborhood are helper, counselor, comforter, and advocate. What scripture reveals is that through the Paraclete, we have our comfort.

Comfort does not mean a lack of conflict, a surplus of wealth or resources, or security of place or person. Comfort means that we are promised the presence of God in all of these things, past, present, and future. At the Last Supper, an event we will celebrate together on March 28 this year, Jesus told his disciples to Not let your hearts be troubled, Believe in God, believe also in me (John 14:1). Comfort is not found in the lack of conflict or hardship; it is found in knowing that because of the promise of God, present sorrow turns to future joy, and in both the sorrow and the joy, we are not alone; we have the gift of the Paraclete dwelling within us. 

This is yet another defiance, a defiance of my definition of comfort…. But even so, this defiance offers me compassionate rescue because what I really need isn’t comfort as the culture defines it; I need to traverse this life with the knowledge that the Father that loves me is with me, and I am not on this journey alone. This week, spend some time with Psalm 139, read the words of King David and reflect on the presence of God, the proximity of God, and the comfort of the Paraclete, the gift of the Holy Spirit that helps, counsels, comforts, and advocates on our behalf. Praise God for his comfort. Amen.

Psalm 139 (NLT)

1 O Lord, you have examined my heart
and know everything about me.
2 You know when I sit down or stand up.
You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.
3 You see me when I travel
and when I rest at home.
You know everything I do.
4 You know what I am going to say
even before I say it, Lord.
5 You go before me and follow me.
You place your hand of blessing on my head.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too great for me to understand!

7 I can never escape from your Spirit!
I can never get away from your presence!
8 If I go up to heaven, you are there;
if I go down to the grave, you are there.
9 If I ride the wings of the morning,
if I dwell by the farthest oceans,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
and your strength will support me.
11 I could ask the darkness to hide me
and the light around me to become night—
12 but even in darkness I cannot hide from you.
To you the night shines as bright as day.
Darkness and light are the same to you.

13 You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body
and knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.
15 You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,
as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.
16 You saw me before I was born.
Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
Every moment was laid out
before a single day had passed.

17 How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.
They cannot be numbered!
18 I can’t even count them;
they outnumber the grains of sand!
And when I wake up,
you are still with me!
19 O God, if only you would destroy the wicked!
Get out of my life, you murderers!
20 They blaspheme you;
your enemies misuse your name.
21 O Lord, shouldn’t I hate those who hate you?
Shouldn’t I despise those who oppose you?
22 Yes, I hate them with total hatred,
for your enemies are my enemies.

23 Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
24 Point out anything in me that offends you,
and lead me along the path of everlasting life.

Adam Greenwell
Pastor  |  Billings Vineyard Church
www.BillingsVineyard.org