The Mature Spiritual Man
An excerpt from Peter Smythe's book, Jesus in the Now.
God’s family, like a lot of families, has kids who just refuse to grow up. Oh, they’ve been born-again, all right. Some might even have demonstrated the powers of the world to come. But these haven’t even tried to mature into a full man in God. They’re like teenagers: eager for freedom and independence, but lacking the gumption to get up and walk in their inheritance for themselves. They’re content to live on somebody else’s faith. Even after having tasted of the heavenly gift, they revel in the lust of their eyes and the pride of life, a life that has all the constancy of a morning glory.
This book isn’t for them.
And then there are the babes in Christ. Not necessarily the newborns, but the ones who’ve been family for quite a while, who still bubble over at just the slightest hints of spiritual truth. These are they who smack their lips at the warm milk of the Word, things like repentance, faith toward God, and baptisms, but shut their mouths and shake their heads when told they need eat some solid meat. They’re always the loudest kids in the room, stomping, kicking, clapping, and screaming to every hallelujah that comes off the platform, but they’re also the first to lose their color and collapse asleep on the table once the tickling of their senses is over.
This book isn’t written for them either.
Then there’s the man who’s decided that the invisible city high above his head is of more value to him than the play things of the world. He’s not afraid to put away childish toys and to step outside the gate, away from child-mob, to trek the outer landscapes of Paul’s revelation. The high priestly ministry of Jesus Christ is one of the vistas there, which shows forth Jesus’ work from the moment God made him sin to the moment that he sat down at God’s right hand, a resurrected man.
This book is for him.
This little book shines a light on that ministry, introducing an aspect of Jesus’ work that the Word itself says is beyond the rudimentary principles of Christianity. Thus, it’s not for the one who’s satisfied with a trifling faith; it’s for the rare man who can discern the import of what it means to have a high priest who has passed into the heavens.