Bill Johnson - Praising in Painful Times
Pearls are developed through irritation; gates of praise are built by responding to difficulty and glorifying God. I had a very unusual experience about one o’clock this morning. I had this phrase going through my mind, and then what seemed like a hundred different scriptures. I mean, it was a whirlwind of mental activity, which is not good for me in the middle of the night; I can hurt myself doing that. But I believe it was a divine moment, and I had so many scriptures going through my mind—concepts, ideas, things that I felt were being impressed on my heart. Thankfully, it only lasted about an hour, and I was able to go back to sleep until it was time to get up.
This is the phrase I heard; it’s kind of strange. I heard this phrase: «Walled cities without gates are not completely safe.» Why don’t you say it with me? «Walled cities without gates are not completely safe.» We’ll get to that in a moment. Isaiah 60 has been such a monumental portion of scripture for me. I had what I refer to as one of the two most significant encounters with the Lord in my life. This one was on a Thursday afternoon in May of 1979, and it has affected every day since then because it changed me. It was an encounter where He showed me His heart in this chapter, and it wrecked me.
In verse 1, it says, «Arise, shine, for your light has come; the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.» This tells me that this chapter, at least this portion, is for the church; it’s for the church age. The reason we know that is He said, «Arise, take responsibility, get up, shine.» Why? Because your light has come. In John chapter 1, it says Jesus is the light that enlightens every person that comes into the world. Jesus is the light that enlightens every person.
The reason I believe this is for the church age for us right now is that there is not another light coming; Jesus is the light that came. So then, that means His coming automatically ignites in me a responsibility to carry out the mandate in this chapter: «Arise, shine, your light has come; the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.» It goes on, «For behold, darkness will cover the earth and deep darkness the people, but the Lord will arise over you; His glory will be seen upon you.» It’s a wonderful promise that in times of difficulty, the grace of God often exceeds the difficulty, and the light shines where sin abounds; grace, much more so.
We know that the Lord will sometimes, when things look the worst, is when He moves on the scene, reverses the effects, and God is glorified; darkness and light cannot coexist. In verse 3, my favorite, the New American Standard says, «Nations will come to your light, kings to the brightness of your rising.» The reason this moves me so deeply is that this has only happened one time in history that I know of, during Solomon’s reign as king. He had such an incredible reputation for divine wisdom that people would pay any price to leave where they were to sit at his feet, to hear and learn wisdom.
As Bobby Conner would say, it’s not about somebody; it’s about His body. This is about to happen—where the nations will literally feed on the solutions of God for the turmoil and challenges of life. They will come not to an individual but to the people of God who walk in this kind of wisdom. This really moves me, but when you get down to verse 18, it was the last part I remember reading that truly wrecked me on that Thursday afternoon in 1979. The last part of verse 18 says, «You will call your walls salvation and your gates praise.»
You will call your walls salvation and your gates praise. Salvation is His part; praise is mine. There’s a co-laboring here in this metaphorical wall and gates that God is describing. There is a role that God has; He saves me; I cannot save myself, but my response is one of praise. He says, «Your walls will be called salvation, and your gates praise.» Interestingly, if you follow this theme in Isaiah 60, by the time you get to chapter 62—which is only 15 or 20 verses later—He says, «Your wall, that wall of salvation, will be like a torch that is burning.»
I love Bible descriptions because they challenge me. Here we are working with walls that have now become fire, and I’m reminded of what the Lord said in Zechariah: «I will be a wall of fire around you.» So, the wall of fire around us is our salvation; it’s a beautiful picture. But there’s still a personal responsibility and a personal mandate, and that is the gates of praise.
When you get to Revelation chapter 21, are you all still breathing? Is everyone still alive? All right; hopefully, this will make sense here soon. When you get to Revelation chapter 21, verse 21, it says, «The twelve gates were twelve pearls, and each individual gate was of one pearl, and the street of the city was pure gold like transparent glass.» It’s a very strange city; it’s a very strange wall. You have streets that are gold but transparent, you have a wall of fire of salvation, and gates that are made out of one pearl. I don’t know how big that gate is; maybe the size of a building or something.
This is very strange, but there’s a profound picture here that’s important for us to catch. Pearls are developed through irritation; gates of praise are built by responding to difficulty and glorifying God. Anyone can give Him praise when you get a raise at work, and we must; anyone can give Him praise when our favorite team wins the NBA championship or the World Series. We all know how to celebrate in those moments.
The challenge comes when I’ve faced a challenge to my faith. I have suffered loss; I don’t know why it happened, or how it happened, and I didn’t do anything wrong. Then, a crisis or tragedy occurs, and in those moments, to apprehend my moment and give Him praise in the middle of those—that’s where the gate is built. I tell you, it’s hard for me to communicate well what I sensed in the middle of the night last night because I don’t want to be alarming; it wasn’t a warning in the sense of, «Oh no, be careful,» it wasn’t that.
In fact, my wife actually sent me a text earlier today, helping me with language around something. It’s because of what’s coming; we have to make sure that we have this area taken care of because of what’s on the way. We must ensure that this mouth gate does not have saltwater and sweet water coming out of the same fountain, out of the same spring. This is a biblical analogy; bitter saltwater and sweet water cannot come out of the same mouth. If God, Psalm 22:3, says God is enthroned upon the praises of His people, then who is enthroned on our complaining? If God is enthroned upon the praises of His people, who then becomes enthroned—can I use the word empowered—through my criticism?
The Bible reveals protocol; it’s not ritual; it’s not routine without purpose; it’s biblical protocol. Psalm 100 states, «I will enter His gates with thanksgiving in my heart; I enter His courts with praise.» Whose presence do I enter with complaining? What gates open to me when I criticize? It’s not a light matter. James 5:9 says, «Don’t complain or grumble against one another, brethren,» and he follows that with, «because the judge is standing at the door.»
Instinctively, we know biblically that life and death are in the power of the tongue. But it’s a time when I get nervous. Thankfully, I’m being very transparent here; I don’t hear the kind of stuff in this room that I hear elsewhere. I become afraid for the people of God. I sometimes listen to someone accuse another of the most horrible things that I know for a fact are not true. I become fascinated with how long they can talk without realizing the Holy Spirit is not on what they’re saying. Maybe they’ve never had the moment in life where they were in partnership with the Lord and could tell something was happening that was so significant, they couldn’t take credit for it. It was God working in them and through them.
Maybe they’ve never had that moment because what they’re saying right now is in direct opposition to the nature of Christ. I’ll sit there and become fascinated; I wonder how long they can do it without realizing God’s not involved, and it should not be mentioned among us. It’s my responsibility for my fountain, my spring, if you will, of speech; it should be that which edifies and encourages. In fact, one of my favorite verses on the subject in the whole Bible is Ephesians 4:29 where it says, «Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, that it might give grace to those who hear.»
A friend of mine did a word study on the unwholesome word and concluded it means «rotten fish.» Don’t let rotten fish come out of your mouth. Anytime you have something smelly coming out, just shut your mouth. Just don’t let rotten fish come out; just choose words that are timely and edifying. I feel like the opportunity that the Lord has given us in this season that we’re entering is a place of even greater responsibility and greater influence. Greater responsibility.
Jesus put it this way; I put these two together all the time. Jesus said to Peter and the guys—they had left everything to follow Him—and He says, «I’m going to add a hundred times as much into your life with persecution.» So, income tax, that’s how favor works. Thankfully, He’s not a socialist, so the income will always be more than the tax.
I usually save my obnoxious statements for the one o’clock meeting, so you guys are very special today. When my dad died 14 years ago at the age of 75, in our family, that’s extremely young. His mom lived to 97, and among all our family members, the sickliest one died at 86. It’s just crazy; they all lived a long time. He was the healthiest of all, and then he just got sick. In six months, he was gone.
My mom and dad moved here to be a part of what God was doing, and I remember that any time you have a loss, even if they die at 97, there’s pain, especially for well-loved family members like my dad, who was a real noble man. Anytime there is loss, there is pain. But when there seems to be at least a 20-year premature loss like that, to see it happen before our eyes as a family, we stayed around him, around his bed, for what I think was basically non-stop for three days—72 hours—just being there with him, along with everyone else.
I remember when he breathed his last, and you have a decision to make. I know you have pain; I have pain. I suddenly have loss; the greatest encouragement in my life is now gone. There’s the pain of loss, disappointment—we prayed, we did this, we tried that, it didn’t work, we didn’t get breakthrough. You’ve got the questions, and we’ve seen others healed of this kind of disease, but my dad wasn’t. You’ve got the guilt: could we have prayed differently? Should we have done this; should we have called a fast? You go through the list.
We’ve got all this stuff going on, and I have a decision to make. I can either let these things infect me or I can let the fire in my soul for God bring these feelings of disappointment, loss, confusion, and pain close to the fire so that, as I give God my offering, I can give Him an offering with a flavor I’ll never be able to give in eternity. Because in heaven, there’s no pain, there’s no loss, no disappointment, and none of that confusion. None of that junk is there; it’s only here.
So, I’ve got a once-in-an-eternity chance to give Him that costly of an offering, and it’s in pain. I take all these ingredients of loss and pain and hold them close so that as I honor Him for always being the Healer, the generous Promise Giver, the one who is perfectly faithful and true, I can do it in the context of pain. See, the gates are made out of pearls; pearls are developed in irritation, developed in conflict. I burn with this; there’s a conflict. I’m going to yield my thoughts to what the Word of God declares, and I’m going to give Him an offering. Why? Because the gate is something He comes through.