A good friend of mine recently asked me to email her some of my lessons and articles. Before I would send them, I would open them to make sure they were what I thought they were and that they were worth sending. I’ve been studying for a particular lesson that I haven’t completed yet and found a document with the title of that lesson. So I opened it to find nothing there.
In Matthew 3 and Luke 3, John the immerser tells the Pharisees and the Sadducees to “bear fruits worthy of repentance.” These religious leaders of the day claimed that Abraham was their father. This claim of identity had no basis in spiritual reality, only genetic actuality. It was as if their physical heritage had become a license for infallibility. With a strong rebuke, John made it crystal clear that name meant nothing and substance meant everything.
A good friend of mine recently asked me to email her some of my lessons and articles. Before I would send them, I would open them to make sure they were what I thought they were and that they were worth sending. I’ve been studying for a particular lesson that I haven’t completed yet and found a document with the title of that lesson. So I opened it to find nothing there. There was a title to the lesson, but no lesson. Why would I save a document under a particular title that doesn’t exist? Then I realized that everything I had was handwritten, not typed. Content means everything.
No matter what we call ourselves, our heart is our content. No matter what title we give ourselves, our actions define us. No matter what label we attach to ourselves, the label that others attach to us, our reputation, is spelled out by the fruit we produce (Matt. 7:20). How does the content of your life identify you?
I have a few thousand books in my library. What if all of my books were written in gibberish? They wouldn’t be blank, but they still wouldn’t contain anything of value. When falsehood wears the outfit of incoherence, it becomes easy to spot. But what if every word of every page of every book in my library came with the claim of truth, but were only cleverly and persuasively written lies? Would I know truth well enough to disregard their content? What if every page on every book were blank? Would it make any difference that the spine of each book had a title? They would be good for little more than starting a fire.
“Therefore every tree which does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” (Matt 3:10b) When the cover is opened on the book of your life, does the title prove to be a lie?
-Cary Gillis D.Min. January 10, 2021
The Substance of a Claim