Earlier this week, my wife and I celebrated our fifth anniversary. A friend from church watched our daughter for us so that we could get away overnight. I surprised Michelle with where we were going: up the Hudson River Valley to stay in a bed & breakfast and enjoy some wonderful food and sights. My joy was fulfilled by seeing her joy in our time together. I often joke that I married above myself -- actually, I am only half joking when I say it. She is kinder, more generous, and more patient than I am. She sees my faults for what they are and loves me despite them. I love her deeply and dearly. I do not deserve a woman as wonderful as my wife.
We chose the name Abigail for our daughter because of what it means in Hebrew: my father's joy. Our hope and prayer is that she will indeed be a joy to her Father in heaven, that she will recognize God's Anointed One, even as her namesake did in I Samuel 25, and place her faith in Him. But Abby is also her earthly father's joy. She is more than I deserve.
Today I drove to Newark Liberty Airport to pick up my wife's parents, who will be staying with us for a week for Thanksgiving. I know some men who have difficult relationships with their in-laws. I do not. I love my father-in-law and mother-in-law, and they love me as a son. My wife and I enjoy hanging out with them and have lots of plans for the coming week. They are more than I deserve.
After Christmas, we are planning on traveling to Florida to see my father and his wife. My mother died when I was in college, and Dad remarried. I know that some children begrudge a widowed parent's remarriage, but my stepmother makes my father happy. They are good together. I look forward to seeing them and spending time together. They are more than I deserve.
I am humbled by the family God has given me. It is all of grace. I hope that this Thanksgiving will be more than a time for football and food. I have much to give thanks for.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Humbled by full atonement
I suspect that while I am still clothed in mortal flesh, I will never fully appreciate the magnitude of the wrong I have done against God.
R. C. Sproul has helpfully highlighted three metaphors that Scripture uses to describe sin: crime, debt, and enmity. In the first case, God is seen as Lawgiver and Judge. In the second, He is Creator and Creditor. In the third, He is King and Master. Now of course God is Lawgiver, Creditor, and King at the same time. The metaphors are not mutually exclusive, but only offered to help us see our sin problem from a number of angles.
If God is Lawgiver and Judge, then I am lawbreaker and criminal. If He is Creator and Creditor, then I am bankrupt and debtor. If He is King and Master, then I am enemy and traitor. Each perspective helps me understand the nature of my sin problem, and what the cross of Christ accomplished for me. At the cross Jesus acted as my substitute, propitiating God's wrath, expiating my guilt, crediting me with His own righteousness so that I am pronounced "Not Guilty!" before the tribunal of God (Rom 3:21-26). At the cross Jesus acted as my surety, paying my debt, ransoming me from my futile ways, canceling the bill against me, and granting me access to the riches of God (I Cor 6:9-11, 20). At the cross Jesus acted as my mediator, reconciling me to God, making peace between us, and grafting me into His holy people (Eph 2:11-22).
All this was accomplished definitively and finally at the cross. The Scripture never uses hypothetical language to describe what Christ accomplished for me or for anyone who believes at the cross. That which the Father planned is that which the Son accomplished and that which the Spirit applied. The Father chose me and sent His Son to die not a generic death, not potentially for me, but really and actually for me (Jn 10:14-16; Gal 2:20). My salvation was decreed from eternity and securely purchased through the atoning work of Jesus Christ. And as John Owen reminds us, in this secure and completed work are grounded "the assurance of our eternal glory and freedom from all accusations."
I deserve none of this. It is all free, extravagant grace, the opposite of what I deserve. But even this contemplation does not breed the humility that I need to cultivate.
Even if I were able to number every last law I had broken, even if the overdrafts on my account printed on a statement, even if on the duties I owed were spelled out in a job description, it would not be sufficient to help me understand the depth of my problem before God. John Piper has helped begin to get even an inkling of this with the following reasoning: God is of infinite worth and value. Therefore when I do not honor, trust, obey, worship, and delight in Him as I ought, I commit an infinitely weighty wrong. In fact, never in my life have I done what I ought in regard to God. And so the justice of God then requires a punishment proportionate to that wrong.
The more I think such thoughts, the more I meditate on passages such as Isaiah 42:8 -- "I am the Lord; that is my name; my glory I give to no other, nor my praise to carved idols" -- the more I see that the apostle Paul did not believe himself to be engaging in hyperbole when he called himself the chief of sinners (I Tim 1:15). The more I see that I was by nature and by choice an object of wrath (Eph 2:1-3). And the deeper that conviction runs, the lower my own self-estimation becomes, and the more precious the atoning work of Christ becomes. Philip Bliss captured it well:
R. C. Sproul has helpfully highlighted three metaphors that Scripture uses to describe sin: crime, debt, and enmity. In the first case, God is seen as Lawgiver and Judge. In the second, He is Creator and Creditor. In the third, He is King and Master. Now of course God is Lawgiver, Creditor, and King at the same time. The metaphors are not mutually exclusive, but only offered to help us see our sin problem from a number of angles.
If God is Lawgiver and Judge, then I am lawbreaker and criminal. If He is Creator and Creditor, then I am bankrupt and debtor. If He is King and Master, then I am enemy and traitor. Each perspective helps me understand the nature of my sin problem, and what the cross of Christ accomplished for me. At the cross Jesus acted as my substitute, propitiating God's wrath, expiating my guilt, crediting me with His own righteousness so that I am pronounced "Not Guilty!" before the tribunal of God (Rom 3:21-26). At the cross Jesus acted as my surety, paying my debt, ransoming me from my futile ways, canceling the bill against me, and granting me access to the riches of God (I Cor 6:9-11, 20). At the cross Jesus acted as my mediator, reconciling me to God, making peace between us, and grafting me into His holy people (Eph 2:11-22).
All this was accomplished definitively and finally at the cross. The Scripture never uses hypothetical language to describe what Christ accomplished for me or for anyone who believes at the cross. That which the Father planned is that which the Son accomplished and that which the Spirit applied. The Father chose me and sent His Son to die not a generic death, not potentially for me, but really and actually for me (Jn 10:14-16; Gal 2:20). My salvation was decreed from eternity and securely purchased through the atoning work of Jesus Christ. And as John Owen reminds us, in this secure and completed work are grounded "the assurance of our eternal glory and freedom from all accusations."
I deserve none of this. It is all free, extravagant grace, the opposite of what I deserve. But even this contemplation does not breed the humility that I need to cultivate.
Even if I were able to number every last law I had broken, even if the overdrafts on my account printed on a statement, even if on the duties I owed were spelled out in a job description, it would not be sufficient to help me understand the depth of my problem before God. John Piper has helped begin to get even an inkling of this with the following reasoning: God is of infinite worth and value. Therefore when I do not honor, trust, obey, worship, and delight in Him as I ought, I commit an infinitely weighty wrong. In fact, never in my life have I done what I ought in regard to God. And so the justice of God then requires a punishment proportionate to that wrong.
The more I think such thoughts, the more I meditate on passages such as Isaiah 42:8 -- "I am the Lord; that is my name; my glory I give to no other, nor my praise to carved idols" -- the more I see that the apostle Paul did not believe himself to be engaging in hyperbole when he called himself the chief of sinners (I Tim 1:15). The more I see that I was by nature and by choice an object of wrath (Eph 2:1-3). And the deeper that conviction runs, the lower my own self-estimation becomes, and the more precious the atoning work of Christ becomes. Philip Bliss captured it well:
Guilty, vile, and helpless we;
Spotless Lamb of God was He;
“Full atonement!” can it be?
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
Friday, November 7, 2008
Humbled by regeneration and calling
In my preparation for Sunday's sermon, I have been thinking about Romans 8:7-8 -- "For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God's law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God."
In his commentary on this passage of Scripture, Martin Luther asks the question, "Where then is man's free will?" The more I meditate on it, the more I think Luther is right. The apostle Paul begins with a sheer statements of fact. Those who are "set on the flesh" (as contrasted with the regenerate person who is "set on the Spirit") have a mindset that is hostile to God. Although some might want to protest that "hostile" is too strong a word, that perhaps we know lots of people who are not Christians who do not "hate" God, the brute statement of Romans 8:7 remains, and it is echoed in passages such as Ephesians 4:17-19 and Jeremiah 17:9. But to the person who continues to protest, the apostle adds the statement that those set on the flesh do not submit to God's law and indeed cannot. There is an implicit question to the one who doubts his own hostility to God: Do you then do what He commands? And there is an implicit challenge: Try doing what He commands. You will find that you will not and cannot.
John Calvin writes in his commentary on Romans, "The heart is full of hardness and indomitable contumacy." And he is talking about my heart, apart from the life-giving work of the Holy Spirit attained for me through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Apart from the ever effectual voice of Jesus calling me to come and follow Him (Jn 10:27), apart from from the work of God's Spirit to open my eyes, unstop my ears, uncloud my conscience, soften my heart, and grant me faith and repentance (Jn 3:3-8; Eph 2:1-5; I Pet 1:3), I would never have believed. In fact, I not only would not have believed, I did not want to believe. I not only could not follow Jesus, I did not want to follow Him. I not only could not please God, I did not want to please God. Until I heard Christ's call and received the new birth, I was ever hearing but not understanding, ever seeing but not perceiving (Isa 6:9; Mk 4:12).
But now by God's grace, I can read Romans 8:9 and find hope: "You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you." And does He dwell in me? He does if I am in Christ Jesus (Rom 8:1-4). And who is in Christ Jesus? The one who has faith in Him (Rom 4:24-25; 5:1-2; 6:1-4). And how do I possess this faith? As a gift from God (Phil 1:29; Eph 2:8-9).
Everything that I have in Christ, every way in which I have ever pleased God, every ability and good work, the life that is at work in me to change me, the very faith that unites me to Christ -- all a free gift of God's grace! There is no room for pride in a heart that is captured by these truths. There is nothing to be proud about. Surely believing our own depravity and inability will help us see the heights of the grace of God, and seeing this grace will root out arrogance and cultivate humility within us. Within me.
In his commentary on this passage of Scripture, Martin Luther asks the question, "Where then is man's free will?" The more I meditate on it, the more I think Luther is right. The apostle Paul begins with a sheer statements of fact. Those who are "set on the flesh" (as contrasted with the regenerate person who is "set on the Spirit") have a mindset that is hostile to God. Although some might want to protest that "hostile" is too strong a word, that perhaps we know lots of people who are not Christians who do not "hate" God, the brute statement of Romans 8:7 remains, and it is echoed in passages such as Ephesians 4:17-19 and Jeremiah 17:9. But to the person who continues to protest, the apostle adds the statement that those set on the flesh do not submit to God's law and indeed cannot. There is an implicit question to the one who doubts his own hostility to God: Do you then do what He commands? And there is an implicit challenge: Try doing what He commands. You will find that you will not and cannot.
John Calvin writes in his commentary on Romans, "The heart is full of hardness and indomitable contumacy." And he is talking about my heart, apart from the life-giving work of the Holy Spirit attained for me through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Apart from the ever effectual voice of Jesus calling me to come and follow Him (Jn 10:27), apart from from the work of God's Spirit to open my eyes, unstop my ears, uncloud my conscience, soften my heart, and grant me faith and repentance (Jn 3:3-8; Eph 2:1-5; I Pet 1:3), I would never have believed. In fact, I not only would not have believed, I did not want to believe. I not only could not follow Jesus, I did not want to follow Him. I not only could not please God, I did not want to please God. Until I heard Christ's call and received the new birth, I was ever hearing but not understanding, ever seeing but not perceiving (Isa 6:9; Mk 4:12).
But now by God's grace, I can read Romans 8:9 and find hope: "You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you." And does He dwell in me? He does if I am in Christ Jesus (Rom 8:1-4). And who is in Christ Jesus? The one who has faith in Him (Rom 4:24-25; 5:1-2; 6:1-4). And how do I possess this faith? As a gift from God (Phil 1:29; Eph 2:8-9).
Everything that I have in Christ, every way in which I have ever pleased God, every ability and good work, the life that is at work in me to change me, the very faith that unites me to Christ -- all a free gift of God's grace! There is no room for pride in a heart that is captured by these truths. There is nothing to be proud about. Surely believing our own depravity and inability will help us see the heights of the grace of God, and seeing this grace will root out arrogance and cultivate humility within us. Within me.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Thoughts before I vote today
In a few hours, I will head to the polls and vote for candidates for a number of offices, from the local to the national level. I am told that as a pastor, I should not publicly endorse one party or one candidate, a stance with which I agree but for different reasons than those given by the IRS. I am less worried about my church's tax-exempt status than I am about becoming beholden to one party over another, or wedding spiritual concerns too closely to political processes, or encouraging the flock with which I have been entrusted and for which I will be held accountable to see solutions to moral and spiritual problems coming from government.
So there will be no endorsements appearing on this blog. But I do have a few thoughts that I would like to share.
First some general convictions:
Every Christian in a democracy has an obligation to vote. This form of government makes its citizens part of the governing process. Those who govern are appointed by God and have the obligation before Him to govern well (Psa 72:1-4; Rom 13:1-7). God's people are also called to do good and seek the welfare of the place that they live (Jer 29:7). By implication, Christians in a democracy are appointed by God to vote responsibly and with an eye toward doing justice for the wicked and the righteous, for the lowly and the powerful.
All Christians have an obligation to pray for and submit to those in power (I Tim 1:1-2; I Pet 2:13-17), regardless of whom we voted for. Our prayers are the most effective weapon we have for influencing the course of affairs for our nation.
Christians should weigh the issues and vote their conscience. But not all issues are created equal. There are "weightier matters of the law" (Matt 23:23). That means that although we may evaluate Candidate A to be stronger on more issues than than Candidate B, if Candidate B is stronger on the weightier matters, or on the weightiest matter of all, then a Christian's conscience should be moved to vote for Candidate B. Go to this short essay-in-the-form-of-a-dialogue for an example of how this reasoning might work (HT: JT).
And now some personal convictions:
I wish I did not have to choose between key issues: the right to life of the unborn; justice for "the alien, the fatherless, and the widow"; stewardship of the created order; national security; economic policy. But choose I must. Opting out is not an option at all.
I am frightened of the prospect of the passage of the Freedom of Choice Act. But I am also aware that our national culture regarding beginning of life issues has changed since 1973. Until the church through our lives, actions, and words has a greater impact for the sake of the gospel, passing and defeating legislation has an important but limited role in seeking justice for the unborn.
I was opposed to the invasion of Iraq from the very beginning. I do not see how just war theory can be used to justify the invasion. But I am also aware that the situation in Iraq and its neighboring countries has changed since 2003. Leaving too soon could be worse than having invaded in the first place. Leaving too late could keep an independent and stable government from emerging. Anyone who says they know exactly what to do and when to do it in Iraq is foolish.
I do not need the Kyoto Protocol to tell me that stewardship of the created order is a good idea. Nor do I need an advocate of drilling in the ANWR to tell me that greater energy independence is wise. And some might accuse me of being naive or idealistic, but I also do not see a reason that stewardship and energy independence should be mutually exclusive concerns.
Try for a moment to step back from this particular election and these particular candidates. I would be delighted to vote for someone of a different ethnicity than mine. I would even say that having an African-American as my country's president would delight me.
In the end, the injustice of almost 50 million dead unborn children overwhelms any other injustices that I see in the political realm, not merely in this election but in any election. Though I largely agree with this essay by John Piper, I would not define myself as a single-issue voter. But some matters are so weighty that they open and close doors for further matters to be evaluated. The right to life is such an issue, the right not merely to live in a just world, but to live at all.
So there will be no endorsements appearing on this blog. But I do have a few thoughts that I would like to share.
First some general convictions:
Every Christian in a democracy has an obligation to vote. This form of government makes its citizens part of the governing process. Those who govern are appointed by God and have the obligation before Him to govern well (Psa 72:1-4; Rom 13:1-7). God's people are also called to do good and seek the welfare of the place that they live (Jer 29:7). By implication, Christians in a democracy are appointed by God to vote responsibly and with an eye toward doing justice for the wicked and the righteous, for the lowly and the powerful.
All Christians have an obligation to pray for and submit to those in power (I Tim 1:1-2; I Pet 2:13-17), regardless of whom we voted for. Our prayers are the most effective weapon we have for influencing the course of affairs for our nation.
Christians should weigh the issues and vote their conscience. But not all issues are created equal. There are "weightier matters of the law" (Matt 23:23). That means that although we may evaluate Candidate A to be stronger on more issues than than Candidate B, if Candidate B is stronger on the weightier matters, or on the weightiest matter of all, then a Christian's conscience should be moved to vote for Candidate B. Go to this short essay-in-the-form-of-a-dialogue for an example of how this reasoning might work (HT: JT).
And now some personal convictions:
I wish I did not have to choose between key issues: the right to life of the unborn; justice for "the alien, the fatherless, and the widow"; stewardship of the created order; national security; economic policy. But choose I must. Opting out is not an option at all.
I am frightened of the prospect of the passage of the Freedom of Choice Act. But I am also aware that our national culture regarding beginning of life issues has changed since 1973. Until the church through our lives, actions, and words has a greater impact for the sake of the gospel, passing and defeating legislation has an important but limited role in seeking justice for the unborn.
I was opposed to the invasion of Iraq from the very beginning. I do not see how just war theory can be used to justify the invasion. But I am also aware that the situation in Iraq and its neighboring countries has changed since 2003. Leaving too soon could be worse than having invaded in the first place. Leaving too late could keep an independent and stable government from emerging. Anyone who says they know exactly what to do and when to do it in Iraq is foolish.
I do not need the Kyoto Protocol to tell me that stewardship of the created order is a good idea. Nor do I need an advocate of drilling in the ANWR to tell me that greater energy independence is wise. And some might accuse me of being naive or idealistic, but I also do not see a reason that stewardship and energy independence should be mutually exclusive concerns.
Try for a moment to step back from this particular election and these particular candidates. I would be delighted to vote for someone of a different ethnicity than mine. I would even say that having an African-American as my country's president would delight me.
In the end, the injustice of almost 50 million dead unborn children overwhelms any other injustices that I see in the political realm, not merely in this election but in any election. Though I largely agree with this essay by John Piper, I would not define myself as a single-issue voter. But some matters are so weighty that they open and close doors for further matters to be evaluated. The right to life is such an issue, the right not merely to live in a just world, but to live at all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)