On Divine Faithfulness and Human Responsibility: A Reflection on 1 Thessalonians 5:9-13, 24-28 and Luke 16:15-18, 17:1-4
The Lord confronts the Pharisees directly in Luke: “You justify yourselves before men, but God knows your hearts. What is highly esteemed among men is an abomination in the sight of God.” This is the problem Paul addresses when he writes to the Thessalonians about God’s faithfulness. The Pharisees have perfected the art of appearing righteous. They know which laws to quote, which rituals to perform, which public displays will earn respect. They look good before men. But God sees what they have been avoiding—the anger they suppress while maintaining the performance, the resentment they swallow while reciting the prayers, the ways they use their knowledge of scripture as armor against transformation rather than invitation into it.
Paul declares God’s counter-pattern: “God did not appoint us to wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, that whether we wake or sleep, we should live together with Him.” This is not about behavior modification or external compliance. God is not waiting for perfect performance before He acts. He acts first. Christ dies while humanity is still performing, still sleeping, still trying to justify itself before others. The salvation Paul describes begins not with human striving but with divine initiative. God starts the work. And the One who starts it will finish it: “He who calls you is faithful, who also will do it.”
This matters for the inner work because transformation cannot happen through willpower alone. The Pharisees prove this. They have memorized every law. They fast, tithe, pray publicly, maintain appearances. Yet the Lord says their hearts remain unchanged. They justify themselves outwardly while avoiding what needs to be faced inwardly. Transformation requires something different—not performing righteousness but allowing God to complete the work He begins. Paul tells the community to “comfort each other and edify one another.” The Greek word for edify means to build up, to construct. This is not cheerleading or empty encouragement. It is the patient work of helping one another face what has been denied, integrate what has been rejected, move from head to heart. The community becomes the space where divine work continues, where God’s faithfulness to finish what He started manifests through people who bear one another’s burdens instead of judging one another’s performances.
The Lord’s teaching about stumbling blocks and forgiveness connects directly. “It is impossible that no offenses should come, but woe to him through whom they do come.” Offenses will happen because people are wounded, carrying unintegrated pain, living partially in denial. But those who cause others to stumble—who use their power, knowledge, or position to wound rather than heal—face severe judgment. Better to drown in the sea than to destroy another’s faith. Then immediately: “If your brother sins against you, rebuke him; and if he repents, forgive him. And if he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times in a day returns to you, saying, ‘I repent,’ you shall forgive him.” This is not about tolerating abuse. It is about recognizing that transformation is messy, that people fall repeatedly, that the work God is doing in them requires time and patience. Forgiveness is not pretending the offense did not happen. It is refusing to give up on the person, trusting that God who began the work will complete it.
The cosmic dimension: Paul writes that believers will “live together with Him.” This is participatory language. Not isolated individuals attempting personal holiness, but a body being transformed together, growing into Christ’s image corporately. When the Thessalonians “comfort each other and edify one another,” they are participating in the universe’s movement toward reconciliation. Every act of genuine forgiveness, every moment of patient bearing with another’s weakness, every refusal to cause stumbling—these participate in the resurrection pattern. The Lord died “that whether we wake or sleep, we should live together with Him.” Death does not interrupt the process. God’s work continues. The transformation He began will reach completion not just for individuals but for the entire cosmos. Matter being united to divine life. Creation reconciled. Bodies rising. The community of faith is the place where this future breaks into the present, where resurrection life becomes visible now in relationships that refuse to abandon one another despite repeated failures.
What this reveals about God: He is faithful. Human beings are not. The Pharisees prove it—knowing every law yet missing the heart of the matter. The disciples prove it—abandoning Christ at the crucifixion, denying Him, doubting the resurrection. Paul and the Thessalonians will prove it—they will fail, fall back into old patterns, struggle with the same wounds repeatedly. But God does not abandon the work He starts. “He who calls you is faithful, who also will do it.” Divine faithfulness is not contingent on human perfection. God is not waiting for believers to get their act together before He completes what He began. He is actively at work in the mess, through the failures, despite the repeated falls. This is why forgiveness must extend seven times in one day. Not because sin does not matter, but because transformation takes time and God is patient enough to see it through.
The ancient pattern: Moses could not enter the Tabernacle when glory filled it. The priests could not stand in Solomon’s Temple when divine presence descended. Human beings, faced with actual holiness, fall on their faces. They cannot maintain the performance. The glory exposes everything they have been pretending. Yet God does not leave them prostrate. He invites them to rise, to serve, to enter again—not because they have become perfect, but because He provides the architecture of approach. The sacrifices, the rituals, the careful ordering of sacred space—these exist not to earn God’s favor but to create conditions under which wounded, imperfect people can draw near to overwhelming holiness without being destroyed. Christ becomes that architecture. He is the mercy seat, the veil, the sacrifice, the priest who makes approach possible. When believers forgive one another repeatedly, when they build one another up rather than tearing down, when they refuse to cause stumbling, they are extending to one another the same patience God extends to them through Christ.
The Lord’s statement about the Law underscores this: “It is easier for heaven and earth to pass away than for one tittle of the law to fail.” The Pharisees think they are defending the Law by keeping its external requirements. But they miss what the Law has always been pointing toward—God dwelling with His people, hearts transformed, genuine righteousness that flows from communion rather than performance. Not one tittle will pass away because the Law’s purpose will be fulfilled. But fulfillment is not repetition. It is completion. The Law was always meant to form people capable of receiving divine presence. Christ does not abolish the Law. He accomplishes what it was always meant to do—creating the conditions for humanity to live in actual communion with God, to bear the glory without being consumed, to be transfigured rather than destroyed by encounter with holiness.
Paul’s instructions about community life follow this pattern. “Recognize those who labor among you, and are over you in the Lord and admonish you, and esteem them very highly in love for their work’s sake. Be at peace among yourselves.” This is not hierarchy for its own sake. It is the recognition that transformation requires guidance, that people further along the path can help those still struggling, that community structure serves the work God is doing. The leaders Paul describes are not those who justify themselves before others or maintain appearances. They are those who labor—who do the hard work of facing their own darkness, who have learned to move from head to heart, who can therefore help others do the same. Esteeming them is not about giving them power. It is about trusting that God is working through them to complete what He began in the entire community.
God will sanctify believers completely—spirit, soul, and body. This is comprehensive transformation. Not just correct thinking or proper behavior, but the entire person being transfigured. The process begins now. It continues through death. It reaches completion in resurrection. The community’s task is to participate in this work by building one another up, forgiving repeatedly, refusing to cause stumbling, living at peace. Not because human effort accomplishes transformation, but because God uses these practices as the means by which His faithfulness becomes visible. The One who calls is faithful. He will do it. Human responsibility is not to accomplish the work but to remain in the process, to keep showing up, to forgive and be forgiven, to allow God to complete what He has started.
The Greater Horizon 