- Jesus changes the question that we need to ask. The lawyer asks Jesus the question, "Who is my neighbor?" What is noteworthy is that Jesus never answers that question. Look again at the parable. Does Jesus ever say that the injured traveler is the Samaritan's neighbor? No. But in v. 36 he asks which man "proved to be a neighbor." So the question is not "Who is my neighbor?" The question is this: "Am I a neighbor?" In other words, do I treat those with whom I come into contact in a neighborly fashion? This is a startling question. We dare not ignore any class of people, and we need not go out of our way to find someone to love in the Samaritan way. We need only look at whomever is in front of us. I suspect that if I learned to look at my surroundings this way, I would find plenty of pain and poverty to which to minister.
- Proper worship of God always leads to sacrificial, self-forgetful love. This story would have been shocking to Jesus' lawyer listener precisely because it was a hated, half-breed Samaritan who was the hero of Jesus' story. Additional reflection shows how disturbing the story must have been to this Jewish legal expert. The Samaritans were despised for being impure ethnically and religiously. But the Samaritans did have the Mosaic Law. This Samaritan man should have known that he faced ritual defilement if the man died. But he stopped anyway, and in doing so proved himself a better master of the Law than either priest or Levite. If concerns for orthodoxy do not translate to orthopraxy, then we do not really know the truth (Hos 4:6).
- A key measure of our love is how we serve those who are different from us. The barriers broken down in this story are probably the most cited features of the parable. But the implications are far-reaching. The Bible study that does not welcome people who are different for fear of disrupting their "fellowship," or the congregation that in a dozen small ways lets the family whose skin color or first language is different know that they are not welcome, or the family that will not say hello to their next-door neighbor because they do not approve of the neighbor's lifestyle... All of these attitudes and behaviors fail the test of the Samaritan way of love.
- Jesus Christ Himself is the true Good Samaritan. If all I am left with from this parable are the first three convictions, then I am left with Pharisaism that has replaced one set of laws with another. The reality is that I am the traveler left on the side of the road, beaten and bloodied by my own sin, with no right to expect any help from God. I could not love this way even if I were inclined to try, which I was not until Christ laid hold of me. He loved me and paid for my healing at great cost to Himself, bearing God's wrath in my place and washing me in his blood. Only as a ransomed and recreated being can I walk in the Samaritan way, which is in reality the way of Christ himself.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
A meditation on the Good Samaritan
I am planning, for the first Sunday of 2009, to preach on the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). As I have read, prayed over, and daydreamed about the passage for the past couple of weeks, I have become convinced of at least four things.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
What Americans owe to the Puritans
This essay at Culture11 gives credit to the Puritans for America's "egalitarian political idealism, our love of genuinely humane and liberating learning, and our human enjoyment and happiness." It is hardly a popular idea, a reality the author, Peter Lawler, readily admits. But I am inclined to agree with him as he sketches the development of education and democracy among the Puritans.
Americans owe much to their Puritan forebears, even if we have turned the label into an insult. Though come to think of it, I believe the word "Puritan" was also an insult in the 16th century (according to J.I. Packer's lectures on the Puritans at Reformed Theological Seminary). So maybe things have not changed so much. Though we have largely absorbed and expanded their beliefs regarding education and democracy, we have left their ideals regarding the communal good behind (an ideal we might want to revisit in light of the current economic situation), and even within the church we shy away from being identified with them.
The essay is worth reading. Check it out and let me know what you think.
HT: JT
Americans owe much to their Puritan forebears, even if we have turned the label into an insult. Though come to think of it, I believe the word "Puritan" was also an insult in the 16th century (according to J.I. Packer's lectures on the Puritans at Reformed Theological Seminary). So maybe things have not changed so much. Though we have largely absorbed and expanded their beliefs regarding education and democracy, we have left their ideals regarding the communal good behind (an ideal we might want to revisit in light of the current economic situation), and even within the church we shy away from being identified with them.
The essay is worth reading. Check it out and let me know what you think.
HT: JT
Friday, November 21, 2008
Humbled by family blessings
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.
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.
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.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Wittenberg's Cathedral Door
Desiring God has an excellent post on Martin Luther. Today is the 491st anniversary of the posting of the 95 Theses, a key event in God's work for His church to recover the biblical gospel through the Reformation.
As I read the post, I was struck by something written there. Martin Luther wanted a debate, not a public scandal. So he posted his theses in Latin. Someone else got hold of them, translated them into German, and published them more broadly.
I observe two things from the way history played itself out. First, under the providence of God we do not always know whom He uses to accomplish His purposes. And it does not seem to matter if we know. We remember Martin Luther. But he was not looking for anything like what happened. Someone else did the translating and publishing that sparked the Reformation. In heaven, I would like to find that person and thank him. But I will have to wait till them, because until then I will not know who it was.
And second, under the providence of God we do not always know how God is going to accomplish His purposes. Luther was an Augustinian monk. He did what scholastic types did when they wanted to debate by nailing his 95 Theses to a cathedral door in Latin. Maybe I should give him more credit, but I doubt very seriously that he had any inkling of what would eventually happen.
I am the pastor of a small church. I do what pastors do -- preaching, teaching, praying, counseling, studying, discipling. I wonder sometimes about the impact I am having. A few generations after I have died, odds are that no one on this sphere will remember me or my ministry. But it is the business of the triune God to build the church (Isa 56:8; Matt 16:18; Eph 1:22-23). I do not know through whom or how He will do it. Martin Luther and his anonymous translator remind me of that and give me both joy and hope.
As I read the post, I was struck by something written there. Martin Luther wanted a debate, not a public scandal. So he posted his theses in Latin. Someone else got hold of them, translated them into German, and published them more broadly.
I observe two things from the way history played itself out. First, under the providence of God we do not always know whom He uses to accomplish His purposes. And it does not seem to matter if we know. We remember Martin Luther. But he was not looking for anything like what happened. Someone else did the translating and publishing that sparked the Reformation. In heaven, I would like to find that person and thank him. But I will have to wait till them, because until then I will not know who it was.
And second, under the providence of God we do not always know how God is going to accomplish His purposes. Luther was an Augustinian monk. He did what scholastic types did when they wanted to debate by nailing his 95 Theses to a cathedral door in Latin. Maybe I should give him more credit, but I doubt very seriously that he had any inkling of what would eventually happen.
I am the pastor of a small church. I do what pastors do -- preaching, teaching, praying, counseling, studying, discipling. I wonder sometimes about the impact I am having. A few generations after I have died, odds are that no one on this sphere will remember me or my ministry. But it is the business of the triune God to build the church (Isa 56:8; Matt 16:18; Eph 1:22-23). I do not know through whom or how He will do it. Martin Luther and his anonymous translator remind me of that and give me both joy and hope.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Humbled by divine election
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him." I remember reading Ephesians 1:3-4 during the summer of 1993, the summer before my sophomore year of high school. All of the freshmen Bible studies for Campus Crusade at Northwestern University were going to study Ephesians during the Fall Quarter. I had been asked to lead a study, so I was studying through the book ahead of time. I had begun trusting in Christ only two years earlier, and did not know Ephesians very well. These verses stunned and shook me to my core.
Before I knew it, I began seeing divine election throughout the Bible: Isaiah 41:8-10; 43:6-7; John 6:36-40; 15:16; Acts 13:48; Romans 8:29-30; 9:6-29; I Peter 1:1-2; Revelation 13:8; 17:8. It was plain enough that God's "knowing" or "foreknowing" meant more than knowing about someone. It meant that His affections were set upon that someone. And a larger pattern of God's sovereignty began to emerge: the calling of Abraham, Israel's election from among the nations, the election of Isaac over Ishmael, of Jacob over Esau. I began to see the sovereignty of God over all the events of my life (Psalm 139:13-16; Proverbs 16:9; 20:24; Matthew 6:25-34; James 4:13-16). And if over all the events of my life, then surely over my salvation as well.
But I missed a few things along the way. Too often I have been too eager to debate what "foreknowledge" means, or whether salvific election is exclusively corporate or embraces individual election as well. There is a place for such debates. The Scriptures do not shy away from election, so neither should we. Too much additional doctrine and ethical implication are built upon election for us not to care about getting it right. But I fear I bruised more than a few brothers and sisters in Christ, and perhaps turned them away from the doctrines of grace, in my eagerness to be right.
What did I miss? The pastoral concern of the apostles and prophets in talking about election. This is a doctrine that is supposed to strengthen quaking knees and crush proud hearts. God would calm our fears and prepare us for trials by reminding us that we are chosen and therefore unshakable. Election is an act of divine love, grounding our sense of security in the Father's affections by a decision made before we can even say "before." Jesus challenges His listeners and exposes the hardness of their hearts by confronting them with the reality of sovereign choice.
Divine election humbles me -- or it should humble me -- because it clearly shows that there is no reason for God to love me outside of Himself. Let that sink in for a moment. Compare it with the relationships we enjoy with other human beings. Almost every relationship we have exists because of some sort of mutual benefit, or mutual attraction, or mutual enjoyment. We love what is lovable. We choose what is attractive or beneficial. If I am loved, it is because there is something about me that someone else likes. And that is an occasion for pride -- I am loved, so there must be something good or lovely about me.
But that is not how God's election works. His election has nothing to do with anything in us. Why does He choose whom He chooses? That is a mystery caught up in the hidden counsel of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit before the worlds began. Certainly there is nothing attractive about sinful, rebellious, hostile, traitorous human beings. The consequence of God's election of His people was the sending of the Son to die in order to save them. And yet God chose.
When I am mindful of election, I am laid low by it. And only in that lowliness do any of us find freedom to serve and obey God with joy and without pretention. Perhaps, rather than a quick and ready wit, a humbled heart and changed attitude would do help to persuade others of the greatness of our God.
Before I knew it, I began seeing divine election throughout the Bible: Isaiah 41:8-10; 43:6-7; John 6:36-40; 15:16; Acts 13:48; Romans 8:29-30; 9:6-29; I Peter 1:1-2; Revelation 13:8; 17:8. It was plain enough that God's "knowing" or "foreknowing" meant more than knowing about someone. It meant that His affections were set upon that someone. And a larger pattern of God's sovereignty began to emerge: the calling of Abraham, Israel's election from among the nations, the election of Isaac over Ishmael, of Jacob over Esau. I began to see the sovereignty of God over all the events of my life (Psalm 139:13-16; Proverbs 16:9; 20:24; Matthew 6:25-34; James 4:13-16). And if over all the events of my life, then surely over my salvation as well.
But I missed a few things along the way. Too often I have been too eager to debate what "foreknowledge" means, or whether salvific election is exclusively corporate or embraces individual election as well. There is a place for such debates. The Scriptures do not shy away from election, so neither should we. Too much additional doctrine and ethical implication are built upon election for us not to care about getting it right. But I fear I bruised more than a few brothers and sisters in Christ, and perhaps turned them away from the doctrines of grace, in my eagerness to be right.
What did I miss? The pastoral concern of the apostles and prophets in talking about election. This is a doctrine that is supposed to strengthen quaking knees and crush proud hearts. God would calm our fears and prepare us for trials by reminding us that we are chosen and therefore unshakable. Election is an act of divine love, grounding our sense of security in the Father's affections by a decision made before we can even say "before." Jesus challenges His listeners and exposes the hardness of their hearts by confronting them with the reality of sovereign choice.
Divine election humbles me -- or it should humble me -- because it clearly shows that there is no reason for God to love me outside of Himself. Let that sink in for a moment. Compare it with the relationships we enjoy with other human beings. Almost every relationship we have exists because of some sort of mutual benefit, or mutual attraction, or mutual enjoyment. We love what is lovable. We choose what is attractive or beneficial. If I am loved, it is because there is something about me that someone else likes. And that is an occasion for pride -- I am loved, so there must be something good or lovely about me.
But that is not how God's election works. His election has nothing to do with anything in us. Why does He choose whom He chooses? That is a mystery caught up in the hidden counsel of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit before the worlds began. Certainly there is nothing attractive about sinful, rebellious, hostile, traitorous human beings. The consequence of God's election of His people was the sending of the Son to die in order to save them. And yet God chose.
When I am mindful of election, I am laid low by it. And only in that lowliness do any of us find freedom to serve and obey God with joy and without pretention. Perhaps, rather than a quick and ready wit, a humbled heart and changed attitude would do help to persuade others of the greatness of our God.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Humble Orthodoxy
I recently finished Collin Hansen's excellent book Young, Restless, Reformed. He quotes the following from Joshua Harris:
If Harris and Packer are right (and I think they are), then what room is there in my life for any degree of self-centeredness or arrogance? What room is there for boasting, unless it be in the cross of Christ? What room is there for being impatient or argumentative, when no degree of cleverness on my part contributed to my salvation?
So in the next few posts (which I hope will come more frequently now), I would like to spend some time thinking through some theological convictions and how they ought, if genuinely believed, to produce deeper humility, patience, holiness, and love. Maybe we can grow together in the kind of "humble orthodoxy" espoused by so many of the people Hansen writes about, even as it was displayed in the lives of so many of the Puritans they draw inspiration from.
Behold the truth revealed in the Word of God. Commit to believe in it. Represent it with humility. This is what we call humble orthodoxy... In view of the fact that we were dead in our sins, the only reason we see anything in ourselves is because [God] chose to pour out his grace in our lives. That's why there's no place for [arrogance]... If your theology doesn't shape you, then you haven't understood it.Though I read them several days ago, Harris' words have remained on my mind. As one of those young Reformed pastors Hansen was writing about, if my theology does not produce humility within me, then I have not really understood it. J. I. Packer writes this in his introduction to John Owen's The Death of Death in the Death of Christ (which is dense and rich enough that I'm only chipping away at it a few pages at a time):
Calvinism is something much broader than the "five points" [of the TULIP acrostic] indicate. Calvinism is a whole world-view, stemming from a clear vision of God as the whole world's Maker and King... a theocentric way of thinking about all of life under the direction and control of God's own Word.And later he writes, "We are saved entirely by divine grace through a faith which is itself God's gift and flows to us from Calvary."
If Harris and Packer are right (and I think they are), then what room is there in my life for any degree of self-centeredness or arrogance? What room is there for boasting, unless it be in the cross of Christ? What room is there for being impatient or argumentative, when no degree of cleverness on my part contributed to my salvation?
So in the next few posts (which I hope will come more frequently now), I would like to spend some time thinking through some theological convictions and how they ought, if genuinely believed, to produce deeper humility, patience, holiness, and love. Maybe we can grow together in the kind of "humble orthodoxy" espoused by so many of the people Hansen writes about, even as it was displayed in the lives of so many of the Puritans they draw inspiration from.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
The Refreshment of Fellowship
Last week was the annual conference for the Eastern District of the EFCA. This is my third year in the Eastern District, and it is the third conference my wife and I have attended. We have looked forward to it all year, and it did not disappoint. In fact, I cannot imagine not attending the EDA conference as long as I am ministering in the district.
What is it that makes these conferences so refreshing for us? There was interesting and helpful teaching, including two excellent sermons, a presentation on the research findings in UnChristian by one of the authors, as well as workshops on worship, pastoral ministry, and community engagement. But as good as all of that was, it was not why we looked forward to the conference or why we look back so fondly. Nor was it the musical worship, though we enjoyed that as well. It was not the book table -- I made no purchases at this conference (not because there was nothing to buy, but because I have already spent my book budget for the year).
We found the conference so refreshing because of the fellowship we enjoyed there. Among the other pastors, pastors' wives, church planters, and district staff at the conference we were able to enjoy the many blessings of relaxed, unguarded fellowship. We were able to take off the "pastor hat" and safely confess both our struggles (Gal 6:2) and our sins (Jas 5:16). We shared meals while discussing our lives, our ministries, and what God is teaching us through the Scriptures (Acts 2:42). We prayed and sang together with joy and gladness (Col 3:16). We shared our dreams and vision to see our churches grow through evangelism and discipleship, having an impact beginning in our communities and extending around the world (Phil 2:2). We glorified God together for the greatness of His being, the excellence of His character, and the majesty of His works. We made much of God together. And as a result, my wife and I came home with a bigger picture of what God is doing in our district and around the world. We came away with our hearts strengthened. I think that is what fellowship is supposed to do (Phm 6).
I am already looking forward to next year.
What is it that makes these conferences so refreshing for us? There was interesting and helpful teaching, including two excellent sermons, a presentation on the research findings in UnChristian by one of the authors, as well as workshops on worship, pastoral ministry, and community engagement. But as good as all of that was, it was not why we looked forward to the conference or why we look back so fondly. Nor was it the musical worship, though we enjoyed that as well. It was not the book table -- I made no purchases at this conference (not because there was nothing to buy, but because I have already spent my book budget for the year).
We found the conference so refreshing because of the fellowship we enjoyed there. Among the other pastors, pastors' wives, church planters, and district staff at the conference we were able to enjoy the many blessings of relaxed, unguarded fellowship. We were able to take off the "pastor hat" and safely confess both our struggles (Gal 6:2) and our sins (Jas 5:16). We shared meals while discussing our lives, our ministries, and what God is teaching us through the Scriptures (Acts 2:42). We prayed and sang together with joy and gladness (Col 3:16). We shared our dreams and vision to see our churches grow through evangelism and discipleship, having an impact beginning in our communities and extending around the world (Phil 2:2). We glorified God together for the greatness of His being, the excellence of His character, and the majesty of His works. We made much of God together. And as a result, my wife and I came home with a bigger picture of what God is doing in our district and around the world. We came away with our hearts strengthened. I think that is what fellowship is supposed to do (Phm 6).
I am already looking forward to next year.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
To Know God
Normally I do not simply give a link to another blog when I post. There are some really good blogs that do a much better job of keeping up with helpful content from other places, such as Between Two Worlds and Challies.com, which I check almost everyday. So I usually focus on posting original content.
But this post from The Thirsty Theologian was too good, too helpful, too well-written not to pass on. So please read and enjoy.
Here is an extended quotation to whet your appetite:
But this post from The Thirsty Theologian was too good, too helpful, too well-written not to pass on. So please read and enjoy.
Here is an extended quotation to whet your appetite:
HT: ChalliesI want to know God. I want to know his nature and his thoughts... What could possibly be more wonderful, as wonderful, or even remotely wonderful compared to the knowledge of the eternal, infinite, omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent God who is the source of all things, the epitome of holiness, righteousness, and justice? The answer is obvious: nothing compares...
Why is it, then, that reading God’s Word becomes, at times, a chore to be done rather than a pleasure to be savored?
Monday, October 13, 2008
Two Books from Sunday
During our morning worship service at Bethel last Sunday, I mentioned two books, and pledged to post information on them.
Most Christian books for men that I have read fall into one of three categories. The first is what I call non-Christian Christian books, books that are often filled with powerful illustrations and personal reminiscences, and at the same time are void of biblical truth. The second are how-to Christian books, packed with Scripture references but reducing being a Christian man to 40 things you need to do to be a godly man. The third are bash-the-church Christian books, which describe everything that is wrong with our churches, and sometimes offer practical but not always biblical advice on how to change things.
Tender Warrior by Stu Weber does not fit into one of these three categories. Weber is a pastor in Oregon who himself defies our expectations. On the one hand he is a former high school athlete and Green Beret, and still bow hunts. On the other hand he is a family man who married his high school sweetheart and raised three sons. His book combines biblical truth with helpful personal stories, and each chapter is concluded with study and discussion questions. Our monthly men's group will be reading this book together.
Christians know we need to be humble. In one sense, humility defines what it means to be a Christian -- confessing that you are a sinner and coming to Jesus Christ through faith require humility. But in another sense, humility continues to be elusive even after coming to Christ and having His life at work within you to transform you. In the sermon yesterday on Mark 10:32-45, we learned that humility cannot be reduced to a set of principles or maxims. Humility begins with regarding yourself as ransomed, as no longer belonging to yourself but to the one who bought you, and regarding Him as of greater value than anything or anyone else.
Reducing humility to maxims and principles is precisely what C. J. Mahaney does not do in his excellent little book Humility: True Greatness. He describes the importance of humility in God-centered, cross-focused terms and describes the exercises he employs to cultivate humility, all while freely confessing he has not arrived. I recommended this book during the sermon yesterday, and recommend it now to any readers of this blog.
Most Christian books for men that I have read fall into one of three categories. The first is what I call non-Christian Christian books, books that are often filled with powerful illustrations and personal reminiscences, and at the same time are void of biblical truth. The second are how-to Christian books, packed with Scripture references but reducing being a Christian man to 40 things you need to do to be a godly man. The third are bash-the-church Christian books, which describe everything that is wrong with our churches, and sometimes offer practical but not always biblical advice on how to change things.
Tender Warrior by Stu Weber does not fit into one of these three categories. Weber is a pastor in Oregon who himself defies our expectations. On the one hand he is a former high school athlete and Green Beret, and still bow hunts. On the other hand he is a family man who married his high school sweetheart and raised three sons. His book combines biblical truth with helpful personal stories, and each chapter is concluded with study and discussion questions. Our monthly men's group will be reading this book together.
Christians know we need to be humble. In one sense, humility defines what it means to be a Christian -- confessing that you are a sinner and coming to Jesus Christ through faith require humility. But in another sense, humility continues to be elusive even after coming to Christ and having His life at work within you to transform you. In the sermon yesterday on Mark 10:32-45, we learned that humility cannot be reduced to a set of principles or maxims. Humility begins with regarding yourself as ransomed, as no longer belonging to yourself but to the one who bought you, and regarding Him as of greater value than anything or anyone else.
Reducing humility to maxims and principles is precisely what C. J. Mahaney does not do in his excellent little book Humility: True Greatness. He describes the importance of humility in God-centered, cross-focused terms and describes the exercises he employs to cultivate humility, all while freely confessing he has not arrived. I recommended this book during the sermon yesterday, and recommend it now to any readers of this blog.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Reflections on the Financial Bailout
I am probably coming to this party too late to have much fun, and joining the conversation too late to add anything meaningful. And I am a layman when it comes to economics. But it continues to be big news whether in the newspapers, on the Internet, or during presidential debates. And I think I needed a little bit of time to look around and simply watch before adding my two-cents worth.
First a few links... This article from World Magazine is probably still the best quick-and-easy overview of what went wrong. This article from The American Scene is also helpful because it weighs out the pros and cons of a bailout plan, but it is a little more technical. For a more entertaining account that is simplified but still helpful, see this article from National Review Online and this follow-up. For the most intelligent (but fairly technical) commentary on crises and bailouts that I have found, take a look at the Becker-Posner blog, where two world class economists give their analysis and do not always agree with each other.
And now a few observations... Perhaps was has struck me most forcibly about the discussion surrounding the crisis and bailout is the woefully underinformed and reactionary state of most public opinion. Whether in conversations at the store or in a church, whether in letters to the editor or comments following a Web-based article, many responses betray a lack of understanding of how the U.S. economy works. After the first bailout package was rejected in the House of Representatives, reader comments at both the Wall Street Journal and the Washington Post (intentionally chosen for their differing political inclinations) were almost uniformly negative regarding the bailout and gleeful regarding its rejection, for the most part arguing that Pennsylvania Avenue and Wall Street had attempted to pin the cost of their mismanagement on Main Street, and throwing around the number $700BN as if the IRS were going to show up on our individual doorsteps requesting a check for our portion of the bailout within the week, with no hope or recouping the money. Now I might be able to understand opposition to a bailout, but at least have better reasons for it than that, and try to comprehend the consquences for both Wall Street and Main Street of letting major financial institutions fail.
The second observation I would offer is that neither the mainstream media nor the government has helped on the whole in understanding what has happened and why a bailout might be necessary. For example, on Monday my family went out for lunch to a restaurant that had TVs tuned in to CNN. As the Dow "plunged" below 10,000, it seemed that CNN was doing everything possible to make a bigger story out of it than was necessary, including soliciting feedback from viewers on Twitter and Facebook. One viewer's comment especially piqued my interest because he was in a panic over what he should do with his daughter's college savings fund. (The short answer to that concern, unless his daughter is leaving for college in the next year, is to do nothing out of the ordinary. This is a market correction. It is the way the system works. Gains are never guaranteed, especially in the short term. Ride it out.) My wife, whose undergraduate degree is in economics, was growing frustrated with the coverage until CNN had an economist on to discuss the situation, who promptly criticized CNN for the way they were promoting fear and misinformation.
To be fair, this is not meant to target CNN's coverage. Fox and MSNBC have been just as irresponsible. And the administration did an incredibly poor job of selling the bailout to the average voter and taxpayer. It seems to me that good information has been as difficult to come by for the public as liquidity of funds has been for banks.
And now for my two cents. It seems to me that some sort of bailout was necessary and important not only for Wall Street but for Main Street. We can gripe about tax dollars stuffing the pockets of irresponsible executives, but when business owners need loans and cannot get them, or responsible borrowers who are first time homeowners cannot get a mortgage, then the griping will simply shift in content. And many opposed to government assistance now will want government assistance then. The key issue is liquidity, something which the alternate plan proposed by the House Republicans did not sufficiently address.
If I were to defend my position here, I would end up cutting and pasting the arguments of others. Go to the links listed above -- they present the case as well as I could.
So there is one cent. Now for the second. It also seems to me that there is widespread sidestepping of personal responsibility in this mess. We can discuss whether lenders were irresponsible with subprime mortgages. We can discuss whether Freddie and Fannie were irresponsible in buying these mortgages. We can discuss the difficulty of properly fixing the value of securities and the wisdom of then using them as capital to enable more borrowing. We can ask economic questions about moral hazard and government intervention. There is plenty wrong with the way things played out over the past few years. Everyone seems to agree on that.
What about those who did the borrowing? I know I run the risk of giving offense here. I understand the desire to own a home and the advantages of home ownership. But if the only mortgage you could get was an ARM or payment option or Ninja loan, should you take on that kind of debt? The assumption made by many to justify this kind of borrowing was that housing values would continue to go up. But I have to wonder if it is wise to take on the massive amounts of debt associated with a mortgage when you lack the ability to pay it off.
I cannot help but throw in a third cent as well. Where is God in all of this? Isaiah 45:7 teaches us that the Lord brings both good and calamity. All the treasures of the earth belong to Him, and nothing happens that is contrary to His knowledge and plan. Both the initial panic and the current sense of brooding despondency that I pick up here in the New York area, from Christian and non-Christian alike, suggests to me that we believe what God attests about Himself in Scripture to be true more often in the breach than in the observance. Or another way of looking at it is to observe that we are often more ready to declare God's sovereignty when "it" affects someone else rather than us (whatever "it" may be), but that when "it" meddles with our plans and crushes our dreams God's sovereignty falls from our consciousness.
This article from the Desiring God blog was a helpful reminder to me of the need to pray for our country's leaders, both political and economic. But even more useful to me in keeping my head, as I have too have investments that have been affected, is to remember the teaching of Jesus in Matthew 6, especially vs. 30-33: "But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."
First a few links... This article from World Magazine is probably still the best quick-and-easy overview of what went wrong. This article from The American Scene is also helpful because it weighs out the pros and cons of a bailout plan, but it is a little more technical. For a more entertaining account that is simplified but still helpful, see this article from National Review Online and this follow-up. For the most intelligent (but fairly technical) commentary on crises and bailouts that I have found, take a look at the Becker-Posner blog, where two world class economists give their analysis and do not always agree with each other.
And now a few observations... Perhaps was has struck me most forcibly about the discussion surrounding the crisis and bailout is the woefully underinformed and reactionary state of most public opinion. Whether in conversations at the store or in a church, whether in letters to the editor or comments following a Web-based article, many responses betray a lack of understanding of how the U.S. economy works. After the first bailout package was rejected in the House of Representatives, reader comments at both the Wall Street Journal and the Washington Post (intentionally chosen for their differing political inclinations) were almost uniformly negative regarding the bailout and gleeful regarding its rejection, for the most part arguing that Pennsylvania Avenue and Wall Street had attempted to pin the cost of their mismanagement on Main Street, and throwing around the number $700BN as if the IRS were going to show up on our individual doorsteps requesting a check for our portion of the bailout within the week, with no hope or recouping the money. Now I might be able to understand opposition to a bailout, but at least have better reasons for it than that, and try to comprehend the consquences for both Wall Street and Main Street of letting major financial institutions fail.
The second observation I would offer is that neither the mainstream media nor the government has helped on the whole in understanding what has happened and why a bailout might be necessary. For example, on Monday my family went out for lunch to a restaurant that had TVs tuned in to CNN. As the Dow "plunged" below 10,000, it seemed that CNN was doing everything possible to make a bigger story out of it than was necessary, including soliciting feedback from viewers on Twitter and Facebook. One viewer's comment especially piqued my interest because he was in a panic over what he should do with his daughter's college savings fund. (The short answer to that concern, unless his daughter is leaving for college in the next year, is to do nothing out of the ordinary. This is a market correction. It is the way the system works. Gains are never guaranteed, especially in the short term. Ride it out.) My wife, whose undergraduate degree is in economics, was growing frustrated with the coverage until CNN had an economist on to discuss the situation, who promptly criticized CNN for the way they were promoting fear and misinformation.
To be fair, this is not meant to target CNN's coverage. Fox and MSNBC have been just as irresponsible. And the administration did an incredibly poor job of selling the bailout to the average voter and taxpayer. It seems to me that good information has been as difficult to come by for the public as liquidity of funds has been for banks.
And now for my two cents. It seems to me that some sort of bailout was necessary and important not only for Wall Street but for Main Street. We can gripe about tax dollars stuffing the pockets of irresponsible executives, but when business owners need loans and cannot get them, or responsible borrowers who are first time homeowners cannot get a mortgage, then the griping will simply shift in content. And many opposed to government assistance now will want government assistance then. The key issue is liquidity, something which the alternate plan proposed by the House Republicans did not sufficiently address.
If I were to defend my position here, I would end up cutting and pasting the arguments of others. Go to the links listed above -- they present the case as well as I could.
So there is one cent. Now for the second. It also seems to me that there is widespread sidestepping of personal responsibility in this mess. We can discuss whether lenders were irresponsible with subprime mortgages. We can discuss whether Freddie and Fannie were irresponsible in buying these mortgages. We can discuss the difficulty of properly fixing the value of securities and the wisdom of then using them as capital to enable more borrowing. We can ask economic questions about moral hazard and government intervention. There is plenty wrong with the way things played out over the past few years. Everyone seems to agree on that.
What about those who did the borrowing? I know I run the risk of giving offense here. I understand the desire to own a home and the advantages of home ownership. But if the only mortgage you could get was an ARM or payment option or Ninja loan, should you take on that kind of debt? The assumption made by many to justify this kind of borrowing was that housing values would continue to go up. But I have to wonder if it is wise to take on the massive amounts of debt associated with a mortgage when you lack the ability to pay it off.
I cannot help but throw in a third cent as well. Where is God in all of this? Isaiah 45:7 teaches us that the Lord brings both good and calamity. All the treasures of the earth belong to Him, and nothing happens that is contrary to His knowledge and plan. Both the initial panic and the current sense of brooding despondency that I pick up here in the New York area, from Christian and non-Christian alike, suggests to me that we believe what God attests about Himself in Scripture to be true more often in the breach than in the observance. Or another way of looking at it is to observe that we are often more ready to declare God's sovereignty when "it" affects someone else rather than us (whatever "it" may be), but that when "it" meddles with our plans and crushes our dreams God's sovereignty falls from our consciousness.
This article from the Desiring God blog was a helpful reminder to me of the need to pray for our country's leaders, both political and economic. But even more useful to me in keeping my head, as I have too have investments that have been affected, is to remember the teaching of Jesus in Matthew 6, especially vs. 30-33: "But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."
Friday, October 3, 2008
The Futility of Being a Cubs Fan
Maybe next Tuesday, I'll be smiling because the unthinkable happened. Maybe the folks at ESPN and SI are wrong and it isn't over.
I know at some level that it won't happen. Teams just don't recover from being down 0-2 in a best of five series. But I can't let go of that hope, that "maybe this time" attitude. Why? Because I'm a Chicago Cubs fan, and that's the way we are.
I started rooting for the Cubs when I was a little kid. On Saturdays during the summer, my dad would take me and my brother fishing. We'd come back in the afternoon, clean the fish, fry some up, and sit down in front of the TV. Apart from the national game of the week on the networks, there were only two teams to watch: the Braves (thanks to TBS) and the Cubs (thanks to WGN). And so was born an affection that became fandom when I moved to Chicago to go to college.
All season I have hedged my hopes, telling myself the Cubs were going to blow it and not even make the playoffs, that Carlos Zambrano's arm would fall off or that Aramis Ramirez would go into a ghastly 0-for-a-100 hitting slump. But they not only made the playoffs, they won their division and posted the best record in the NL. They were clearly the best team in the National League. So I began to hope...
I thank God that through Christ, I don't need to hedge my hopes, and I need not fear that my hopes will be crushed. I know that might sound tagged on or cliched -- I'm a pastor, and this blog is about Christian stuff, so I have to make it sound Christian... But at least for today as I write this, it's neither tagged on nor cliched. I went to bed last night disappointed, and I woke up feeling down and dragging through my morning. Proverbs 13:12 says that "Hope deferred makes the heart sick," and that is what I was experiencing. Over a baseball team. So I set about meditating on passages such as Romans 5:1-5, Ephesians 1:15-23, Titus 2:11-14, Hebrews 6:17-20, and I Peter 1:3-5.
There is a hope kept in heaven for me, a hope that will not be disappointed but will most certainly be fulfilled. My Lord is more precious and of greater worth than anything else, and certainly moreso than any sporting event or organization. And that is a great encouragement at all times.
And just because they're down 0-2 doesn't mean it's over for the Cubs.
I know at some level that it won't happen. Teams just don't recover from being down 0-2 in a best of five series. But I can't let go of that hope, that "maybe this time" attitude. Why? Because I'm a Chicago Cubs fan, and that's the way we are.
I started rooting for the Cubs when I was a little kid. On Saturdays during the summer, my dad would take me and my brother fishing. We'd come back in the afternoon, clean the fish, fry some up, and sit down in front of the TV. Apart from the national game of the week on the networks, there were only two teams to watch: the Braves (thanks to TBS) and the Cubs (thanks to WGN). And so was born an affection that became fandom when I moved to Chicago to go to college.
All season I have hedged my hopes, telling myself the Cubs were going to blow it and not even make the playoffs, that Carlos Zambrano's arm would fall off or that Aramis Ramirez would go into a ghastly 0-for-a-100 hitting slump. But they not only made the playoffs, they won their division and posted the best record in the NL. They were clearly the best team in the National League. So I began to hope...
I thank God that through Christ, I don't need to hedge my hopes, and I need not fear that my hopes will be crushed. I know that might sound tagged on or cliched -- I'm a pastor, and this blog is about Christian stuff, so I have to make it sound Christian... But at least for today as I write this, it's neither tagged on nor cliched. I went to bed last night disappointed, and I woke up feeling down and dragging through my morning. Proverbs 13:12 says that "Hope deferred makes the heart sick," and that is what I was experiencing. Over a baseball team. So I set about meditating on passages such as Romans 5:1-5, Ephesians 1:15-23, Titus 2:11-14, Hebrews 6:17-20, and I Peter 1:3-5.
There is a hope kept in heaven for me, a hope that will not be disappointed but will most certainly be fulfilled. My Lord is more precious and of greater worth than anything else, and certainly moreso than any sporting event or organization. And that is a great encouragement at all times.
And just because they're down 0-2 doesn't mean it's over for the Cubs.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Where I (tenatively) land on engaging culture
So after five posts (#1, #2, #3, #4, #5) thinking out loud on questions of Christ and culture, I should probably share where I land. I cannot promise anything revolutionary or even especially insightful. And in all likelihood my thinking will shift and evolve with more time. But these six principles sum up what I think (or at least what I think I think) at this point.
- The distinction between two biblical uses of "gospel" needs to be retained. In his three posts at the IX Marks blog, Greg Gilbert has convinced me of at least this much (#1, #2, #3). There is a sense in which "gospel" refers to what Christ has done and what a person must believe to be saved (which I will call G1 for short), and a sense in which "gospel" refers to the big picture of what God is doing to reconcile and renew the entire creation (which I will call G2). Both uses have biblical precedent, so neither should be rejected.
- The relationship between the two usages of "gospel" needs to be developed. What I specifically have in mind here is that G1 is the doorway into G2. This is true in at least two senses. First, there is no participation in the kingdom of God or in "kingdom work" for human beings (which is G2) unless there is repentance of sins and faith in Jesus Christ (which is G1). In other words, our personal experience and participation in G2 is only consequent on our participation in G1. Second, what is true for the individual is true for the cosmos as well. There is no renewal of all things without the redemption of individual sinners. The created order needs renewal because of the fall of Adam -- God placed all things under a curse as a result of Adam's sin (Genesis 3:17-19, Romans 8:19-23). And the created order will only be renewed because of the redemption of those who are no longer in Adam but in Christ -- in Christ the curse is lifted. See this sermon on Genesis 3 for a more thorough exposition of both the curse and its reversal.
- Making disciples, from conversion to maturity, must be the focus of the church. However attractive a Kuyperian vision of cultural engagement might be, I cannot get around passages such as Matthew 28:18-20 and Ephesians 4:7-16. The task of the church is to make disciples. So my short answer to the question of "should a church run a health clinic or affordable housing or a film festival" is not unequivocally no, but it is pretty close. The moment a church as a church begins to engage in work that shifts its focus from evangelism, preaching and teaching, and equipping believers for the work of ministry, that church finds itself in danger of losing sight of its biblical mandate. To put it a different way, if a church emphasizes G2 work at the expense of G1 work, there will soon be no one to experience either the personal salvation of G1 or the corporate salvation of G2. Though some might say that it is not an either-or, the reality is that churches have only so much time and so many resources. Disciple-making must be king.
- Responsible contextualization is a necessary part of disciple-making. The reality is that "Christ" and "culture" are never separate. Every attempt to explain the gospel takes place in a particular setting, with a particular language, in the midst of particular cultural assumptions, against the backdrop of a particular people's biblical literacy. That reality is why I favor the Two Ways to Live gospel presentation over most other gospel presentations: for where and when I live, it seems to me to do the best job of explaining the gospel while taking into account a general interest in "spirituality" and a general biblical illiteracy both within and without the church. But responsible contextualization runs deeper. It does not so modify the gospel message for the sake of being relevant that the gospel is lost. Rather it seeks to answer questions such as these: What kinds of sin are woven into the life of this community? What are the symbols of status or the expectations of what it means to be religious? Why do people live here, where do they work, how do they get there, and what do the answers tell the church about how we need to preach, where we go and how we form relationships with non-Christians, and what blind spots to sin the church may have?
- Discipleship includes viewing work redemptively. In my mind, this is where the relationship between G1 work and G2 work gets lived out. In this editorial in the Gospel Coalition's journal Themelios, the helpful distinction is made between what the church does as the church and what Christians do as individuals. As the church, the focus must be on disciple-making. But being a disciple means obeying everything Jesus commanded, living all of life under the authority of Jesus and His Word, and learning to see the world through a God-centered worldview. Surely "all of life" includes our work. Most of us spend more time at work than anywhere else. We were made to work. We will continue to work for all eternity. So part of discipleship must mean seeing your work as a vocation from God. A job is not merely a platform for telling others about the gospel. Work is itself intrinsic to what it means to be human and a Christian. Viewing work redemptively means understanding any work, whether in the sciences, manual labor, the liberal arts, government, the fine arts, etc., as flowing out of God's intention for human beings in Genesis 1:28, as affected by the curse, and as being renewed and given new meaning through the gospel. It means looking at the workplace or at the community, asking how things would look different if the gospel were present, and then acting in such a way to bring that vision to pass.
- Christians must live in transformed community before we can talk about transforming the culture. The only way the Christian life is lived out is in relationships with one another. Community is a key means God uses to transform His people. I would offer personal transformation does not happen when Christians are not fulfilling the "one another" commands of Scripture and are not living life together in which the Word of Christ dwells richly, characterized by praying, singing, and bearing one another's burdens. If God's people are not transformed by the gospel, they can hardly transform the culture around them. If God's people are not living life together that is transformed by the gospel, they can hardly commend the gospel (whether G1 or G2), and they hardly have something to which they can invite unbelievers to join through faith in Christ.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Great preaching on John and Genesis
John Piper has begun a preaching series in the Gospel of John, and Mark Dever has begun a series in the book of Genesis. This is wonderfully exciting news!
C. J. Mahaney has commented on several occasions that, on the night before he is to preach, he reads a sermon by Charles Spurgeon on the same passage of Scripture. The inevitable outcome, according to Mahaney, is great humility due to the complete inadequacy of what he has prepared. Mike Bullmore has remarked that after listening to excellent preaching, his heart's response is twofold: a sense of despair at his own perceived lack of ability as a preacher, and a sense of excitement that Sunday is coming and he will have the privilege of stepping again into the pulpit and expounding God's Word.
I have the same experience when listening to John Piper and Mark Dever preach (and in listening to C. J. Mahaney and Mike Bullmore, for that matter). I only wish they had preached these series earlier -- I just finished preaching through the Gospel of John, and two weeks ago I preached on Genesis 3. I look forward to feeling inadequate frequently in the weeks and months to come.
C. J. Mahaney has commented on several occasions that, on the night before he is to preach, he reads a sermon by Charles Spurgeon on the same passage of Scripture. The inevitable outcome, according to Mahaney, is great humility due to the complete inadequacy of what he has prepared. Mike Bullmore has remarked that after listening to excellent preaching, his heart's response is twofold: a sense of despair at his own perceived lack of ability as a preacher, and a sense of excitement that Sunday is coming and he will have the privilege of stepping again into the pulpit and expounding God's Word.
I have the same experience when listening to John Piper and Mark Dever preach (and in listening to C. J. Mahaney and Mike Bullmore, for that matter). I only wish they had preached these series earlier -- I just finished preaching through the Gospel of John, and two weeks ago I preached on Genesis 3. I look forward to feeling inadequate frequently in the weeks and months to come.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Some Help in Thinking about the Banking Crisis
Justin Taylor has an excellent interview with David Kotter to help us think biblically about the current banking crisis, as well as to help us put it in its broader economic perspective. Kotter is currently Executive Director for the Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood, but also has an MBA, has taught economics, and was a finance manager for Ford. All of which puts him in a good position to speak both to economics and theology.
The current crisis is big news in New York, and local TV news coverage here the night before Lehman Brothers declared bankruptcy was near hysterical. So this interview is very helpful for Christians here. And the financial advise Kotter gives is helpful at all times, not just during a banking crisis.
HT: JT
The current crisis is big news in New York, and local TV news coverage here the night before Lehman Brothers declared bankruptcy was near hysterical. So this interview is very helpful for Christians here. And the financial advise Kotter gives is helpful at all times, not just during a banking crisis.
HT: JT
Understandings of the Gospel and Culture
I have been thinking out loud for a few weeks about questions of Christ and culture. In this post, I highlight the tensions in evangelical thought today. In a second post, I wrote about Richard Niebuhr's Christ and Culture and D. A. Carson's Christ and Culture Revisited, advocating Carson's use of the overarching narrative of Scripture as a control for our thinking that allows for flexibility in interacting with culture depending on our particular context. In a third post, I indirectly critiqued the failure in some evangelical circles to engage sufficiently the city of man by critiquing Albert Mohler's book Culture Shift. And in a fourth post, I recommended Mark Driscoll's The Radical Reformission not because of its theological depth, and not because I recommend everything Driscoll does, but because he asks good questions that force us to get to know our communities better if we are to answer.
But in all of this musing and writing, I have not answered this question concretely: How is it that Christians of similar theological convictions can differ on whether the church should be involved in providing affordable housing, health care, or other social and economic aid? Note that I said "the church" and not "Christians." Most evangelicals agree that Christians should be involved in care for "the alien, the fatherless, and the widow" (Deut 27:19; Ps 146:9; Isa 1:17; Lk 4:18; Jas 1:27). Where we disagree is on the question of what the church as a whole should do.
Let's make the point of disagreement clearer. Almost everyone agrees that it is appropriate for members of a church to start a non-profit providing affordable housing. And most agree that it is appropriate for a church to give financial, prayer, support such an organization. But should a church start a community development corporation, such as New Song in Harlem, in which the church begins the CDC but it functions separately? And should a church itself engage in such work by putting volunteers, staff, and budget against such ministries? Is there a difference between running a food pantry, opening a health clinic, and building housing?
The more I read, the more I am convinced that the key issue is a disagreement over how broad or how narrow the gospel is. Does the gospel focus on individual redemption through faith in the Christ who died a substitutionary death for sinners? Or is the gospel broader, such that it includes the renewal of all things? How you answer this question goes a long way toward how you view some of the activities in the above paragraph. If a church gets involved in running a health clinic, is it that a distraction from or a fulfillment of the Great Commission?
In a recent post on the IX Marks blog, Greg Gilbert offered an observation that I found helpful. Folks who disagree over these matters tend to disagree over the right question to ask. In reflecting on what the gospel is, on what the Main Thing is for the church, one group is asking, "What is the message a person must believe to be saved?" The other group is asking, "What is the whole good news of Christianity?" He notes that the word "gospel" is used in Scripture to describe the answer to both questions and that neither question is wrong, and wonders if perhaps much tension would be cleared up among evangelicals if we realized we are asking different questions and using "gospel" in different but biblical ways.
Perhaps this observation seems elementary to some. But for me it was illuminating, so much so that it has led me to some principles that I tentatively offer for thinking through what a church should do in engaging culture. But this post is long enough -- I will talk about them in the next one.
But in all of this musing and writing, I have not answered this question concretely: How is it that Christians of similar theological convictions can differ on whether the church should be involved in providing affordable housing, health care, or other social and economic aid? Note that I said "the church" and not "Christians." Most evangelicals agree that Christians should be involved in care for "the alien, the fatherless, and the widow" (Deut 27:19; Ps 146:9; Isa 1:17; Lk 4:18; Jas 1:27). Where we disagree is on the question of what the church as a whole should do.
Let's make the point of disagreement clearer. Almost everyone agrees that it is appropriate for members of a church to start a non-profit providing affordable housing. And most agree that it is appropriate for a church to give financial, prayer, support such an organization. But should a church start a community development corporation, such as New Song in Harlem, in which the church begins the CDC but it functions separately? And should a church itself engage in such work by putting volunteers, staff, and budget against such ministries? Is there a difference between running a food pantry, opening a health clinic, and building housing?
The more I read, the more I am convinced that the key issue is a disagreement over how broad or how narrow the gospel is. Does the gospel focus on individual redemption through faith in the Christ who died a substitutionary death for sinners? Or is the gospel broader, such that it includes the renewal of all things? How you answer this question goes a long way toward how you view some of the activities in the above paragraph. If a church gets involved in running a health clinic, is it that a distraction from or a fulfillment of the Great Commission?
In a recent post on the IX Marks blog, Greg Gilbert offered an observation that I found helpful. Folks who disagree over these matters tend to disagree over the right question to ask. In reflecting on what the gospel is, on what the Main Thing is for the church, one group is asking, "What is the message a person must believe to be saved?" The other group is asking, "What is the whole good news of Christianity?" He notes that the word "gospel" is used in Scripture to describe the answer to both questions and that neither question is wrong, and wonders if perhaps much tension would be cleared up among evangelicals if we realized we are asking different questions and using "gospel" in different but biblical ways.
Perhaps this observation seems elementary to some. But for me it was illuminating, so much so that it has led me to some principles that I tentatively offer for thinking through what a church should do in engaging culture. But this post is long enough -- I will talk about them in the next one.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Christ and Culture on the Ground
Do you ever feel as if you have bitten off more than you can chew? I feel that way when it comes to questions of Christ and culture. I have only written three posts, and I find my thoughts running in dozens of directions. A new book by Andy Crouch has been published that seems to explore the questions I have been wanting to ask. I have been reading more resources from Tim Keller on ministry in cultural centers. There is more to think about and write about than I can possibly do justice to.
So allow me to ground these thoughts in my personal experience. After being on Staten Island for about a year, I felt lost. Perhaps that would put me in good company -- many a New Yorker has felt the same way after visiting the Forgotten Borough. But this is where I live, the place where I pastor, and my expectations for what living in a borough of New York City would be like were very different from the reality. I did not understand this place or the people here, and they did not understand me.
I picked up Mark Driscoll's The Radical Reformission around this time. Driscoll is no stranger to controversy. In fact he seems to enjoy it. Sometimes he is funny, sometimes he is crude. But I found this book helpful. Driscoll begins with the basic idea that Christians are called to love their Lord, their neighbor, and the church, and that fulling these obligations requires us to live in, observe, interact with, critique, and even reform the culture around them. In particular, I found his reformission questions at the end of each chapter helpful. Driscoll reminded and challenged me to get inside the attitudes and assumptions of this new culture by going to the grocery store, picking up the newspaper, and talking to my neighbors.
As I read and began to take another look at the world around me, I began to notice patterns, attitudes, and postures. This new world began to make some sense to me. I began to see things that were good that we as a church could encourage, or of which we could take advantage as we sought to reach our neighbors with the gospel. I began to notice things that were sinful and idolatrous in the community that I could address through teaching, counseling, and preaching. And I started to understand the ways that these cultural patterns, attitudes, and postures, both good and bad, had shaped the way people in the congregation thought about following Christ and belonging to the church.
If a sophisticated theological treatise on culture is what you are looking for, you will not find it in The Radical Reformission. For that matter, Driscoll is at best a mediocre writer; you will not be swept away by the fluidity of his prose. Much of what he does at Mars Hill in Seattle does not translate well to my context (I have the same difficulty with Tim Keller and Redeemer). But Driscoll is observant, and he asks good questions, and that makes his book worth reading.
So allow me to ground these thoughts in my personal experience. After being on Staten Island for about a year, I felt lost. Perhaps that would put me in good company -- many a New Yorker has felt the same way after visiting the Forgotten Borough. But this is where I live, the place where I pastor, and my expectations for what living in a borough of New York City would be like were very different from the reality. I did not understand this place or the people here, and they did not understand me.
I picked up Mark Driscoll's The Radical Reformission around this time. Driscoll is no stranger to controversy. In fact he seems to enjoy it. Sometimes he is funny, sometimes he is crude. But I found this book helpful. Driscoll begins with the basic idea that Christians are called to love their Lord, their neighbor, and the church, and that fulling these obligations requires us to live in, observe, interact with, critique, and even reform the culture around them. In particular, I found his reformission questions at the end of each chapter helpful. Driscoll reminded and challenged me to get inside the attitudes and assumptions of this new culture by going to the grocery store, picking up the newspaper, and talking to my neighbors.
As I read and began to take another look at the world around me, I began to notice patterns, attitudes, and postures. This new world began to make some sense to me. I began to see things that were good that we as a church could encourage, or of which we could take advantage as we sought to reach our neighbors with the gospel. I began to notice things that were sinful and idolatrous in the community that I could address through teaching, counseling, and preaching. And I started to understand the ways that these cultural patterns, attitudes, and postures, both good and bad, had shaped the way people in the congregation thought about following Christ and belonging to the church.
If a sophisticated theological treatise on culture is what you are looking for, you will not find it in The Radical Reformission. For that matter, Driscoll is at best a mediocre writer; you will not be swept away by the fluidity of his prose. Much of what he does at Mars Hill in Seattle does not translate well to my context (I have the same difficulty with Tim Keller and Redeemer). But Driscoll is observant, and he asks good questions, and that makes his book worth reading.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Seven Years Later
Just as most Americans, I remember where I was and what I was doing on September 11th, 2001, when I first heard the news about the Twin Towers. I was on my way to class. That fall was the last semester of my M.Div. program at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School outside of Chicago, and I had an early morning class on Small Group Ministry. I had tuned in on WBBM 780 AM to get a traffic update for the Tri-State when I heard a report that something had flown into one of the towers of the World Trade Center. When I was a kid, I had read about a B-25 bomber flying into the Empire State Building in 1945. I wondered if something similar had happened and hoped that no one in the building was hurt.
When I stopped in at the White Horse on campus to get some coffee, I heard conflicting reports from other students. It was a small private plane, some said, implying that it was nothing for us to worry about. But someone else thought they had heard that the other tower had been hit as well. Uncertain what to think, I headed for class. And that is where I heard the truth from students who had cell phones: Two commercial airplanes had slammed into the Twin Towers. We were all badly shaken. After praying together, we proceeded with class. Afterwards I learned that the towers had collapsed.
I remember the images repeated over and over again on television. I had to force myself to turn the TV off and leave it off for several days, limiting myself to the evening news and getting information from news radio and the newspaper. I remember the initial catastrophic estimates for over 10,000 deaths. I remember Mayor Giuliani and President Bush at Ground Zero. I remember a sense of relief when the death toll began to fall till it was "only" 2999. I remember the sense of national outrage, and the swiftness of our national retribution in Afghanistan.
I now live on Staten Island, a borough of New York City, on which so many of the police officers and firefighters who died on 9/11 lived. I have members of my congregation who were at Ground Zero on 9/11 and have experienced long-term medical and emotional problems. One of the men of the church was a firefighter who went into one of the towers and never came out; his body was never found, and a small memorial to him is in the church's front yard. I have been to the memorials at Ground Zero and walked the periphery of that enormous pit. I have been to the "Postcards" Memorial on Staten Island many times. I have visited the Flight 93 Memorial. I have watched movies and documentaries. I have talked and prayed with men and women whose lives were forever changed and scarred.
And I have no idea what it was like or what they have been through.
I have had people close to me die, both friends and family. I remember the fear Chicagoans felt after 9/11 about our own skyscrapers. But after living here several years, I know enough to know that I do not understand the trauma that New York City has undergone. I do not understand the desire by some to reopen the old wounds every year. I do not understand how this city's swagger and in-your-face bravado exist side-by-side with a wounded psyche and lingering insecurity.
So that makes it very difficult to know the appropriate way to respond when 9/11 comes around every year. There are memorials and vigils throughout the city, and this remembering dominates the front pages of newspapers. But I was not here. Three years ago I asked the widow and sons of that firefighter what they wanted me to do that Sunday. They asked me please, please, please not to do anything other than pray. They wanted to move on. So I acceded. During the pastoral prayer, I prayed for families on Staten Island who were still hurting to find healing in Jesus Christ.
And that is still my prayer. Our God is still sovereign, though I do not understand His secret ways. He is still loving and kind. His Son still instructs us to forgive and bless those who harm us. And the same forgiveness and peace can still be found for all who call on His name.
When I stopped in at the White Horse on campus to get some coffee, I heard conflicting reports from other students. It was a small private plane, some said, implying that it was nothing for us to worry about. But someone else thought they had heard that the other tower had been hit as well. Uncertain what to think, I headed for class. And that is where I heard the truth from students who had cell phones: Two commercial airplanes had slammed into the Twin Towers. We were all badly shaken. After praying together, we proceeded with class. Afterwards I learned that the towers had collapsed.
I remember the images repeated over and over again on television. I had to force myself to turn the TV off and leave it off for several days, limiting myself to the evening news and getting information from news radio and the newspaper. I remember the initial catastrophic estimates for over 10,000 deaths. I remember Mayor Giuliani and President Bush at Ground Zero. I remember a sense of relief when the death toll began to fall till it was "only" 2999. I remember the sense of national outrage, and the swiftness of our national retribution in Afghanistan.
I now live on Staten Island, a borough of New York City, on which so many of the police officers and firefighters who died on 9/11 lived. I have members of my congregation who were at Ground Zero on 9/11 and have experienced long-term medical and emotional problems. One of the men of the church was a firefighter who went into one of the towers and never came out; his body was never found, and a small memorial to him is in the church's front yard. I have been to the memorials at Ground Zero and walked the periphery of that enormous pit. I have been to the "Postcards" Memorial on Staten Island many times. I have visited the Flight 93 Memorial. I have watched movies and documentaries. I have talked and prayed with men and women whose lives were forever changed and scarred.
And I have no idea what it was like or what they have been through.
I have had people close to me die, both friends and family. I remember the fear Chicagoans felt after 9/11 about our own skyscrapers. But after living here several years, I know enough to know that I do not understand the trauma that New York City has undergone. I do not understand the desire by some to reopen the old wounds every year. I do not understand how this city's swagger and in-your-face bravado exist side-by-side with a wounded psyche and lingering insecurity.
So that makes it very difficult to know the appropriate way to respond when 9/11 comes around every year. There are memorials and vigils throughout the city, and this remembering dominates the front pages of newspapers. But I was not here. Three years ago I asked the widow and sons of that firefighter what they wanted me to do that Sunday. They asked me please, please, please not to do anything other than pray. They wanted to move on. So I acceded. During the pastoral prayer, I prayed for families on Staten Island who were still hurting to find healing in Jesus Christ.
And that is still my prayer. Our God is still sovereign, though I do not understand His secret ways. He is still loving and kind. His Son still instructs us to forgive and bless those who harm us. And the same forgiveness and peace can still be found for all who call on His name.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Christ and Culture Shifting
I would like to pick up on a series I started on questions of Christ and culture. The first post attempted to frame some of the issues and show the tension that exists in evangelicalism. The second post interacted briefly with works by Richard Niebuhr and D. A. Carson.
Carson's contention, with which I agree, is that we need an approach to these sorts of issues that is thoroughly grounded in Scripture, allows for differences in regard to specific settings, yet has sufficient unity that we do not devolve into parochialism or relativism. So while it might seem obvious that the way Christians think about engaging culture will differ (and correctly so) on the South Side of Chicago, in Iraq, and on the East End of London, can we describe why and how those settings demand different responses while staying thoroughly rooted in Scripture?
The biblical theology approach outlined by Carson demands both theological and cultural exegesis. There are no shortcuts. We need to be steeped in Scripture -- to "bleed Bible" as Charles Spurgeon put it -- and to be on the ground interacting with people in our community, reading what they read, eating where they eat, shopping where they shop. This is where Tim Keller has been so helpful to those living in city centers.
But I do not live in a city center. So when I picked up Al Mohler's Culture Shift, I was hoping for some help in thinking through these questions for a setting less sophisticated than Keller's Upper Manhattan. I occasionally visit Dr. Mohler's blog, and the breadth of his reading and force of his intellect were recurring themes at the latest T4G, so I had some reason to be hopeful. And I was helped by the book, but not in the way I had hoped for.
At its best, Culture Shift uses secular/liberal sources to help evangelicals understand some of the moves being made in contemporary public discourse. The first three chapters on secular arguments against the interaction of Christian faith and public policy are helpful to those who pick up The New York Times op/ed page or wander over to the pages of The Nation and do not see the presuppositions or understand what seems to some to be anti-religious bias. The two chapters on abortion spotlight the fissures that have appeared in recent years in the pro-choice movement. This is helpful.
At its worst, Culture Shift fails to engage the "city of man" well enough to understand the issues with sufficient depth and nuance. One example of this failure is the chapter on the Supreme Court and religion, in which Mohler cites one scholar from one essay over and over, does not acknowledge that other constitutional law scholars disagree with this one source, and clearly has not interacted with the decisions of the Supreme Court directly. Perhaps on this particular matter I am oversensitive, since Establishment Clause jurisprudence was a topic of significant study for me in college. But I see the same superficial analysis in other one-source essays (I never thought I would write that about something Mohler wrote, but it is true here. The Supreme Court's Establishment Clause jurisprudence is a mess -- so what? Tell me something more that is not so obvious.) And the tension in the book between one essay advocating withdrawal from public schools because they are too dangerous for Christian faith, and another essay asking if we are raising a generation of wimps by coddling and sheltering our children, is neither resolved nor acknowledged.
But it is precisely in its failure to engage that I found Culture Shift useful. The book is endorsed by several leaders in evangelicalism that I respect. And that tells me that we evangelicals have not spent enough time on the ground in our communities thinking through how to live out the implications of the gospel. In the next post, I hope to talk about how we can do that better.
Carson's contention, with which I agree, is that we need an approach to these sorts of issues that is thoroughly grounded in Scripture, allows for differences in regard to specific settings, yet has sufficient unity that we do not devolve into parochialism or relativism. So while it might seem obvious that the way Christians think about engaging culture will differ (and correctly so) on the South Side of Chicago, in Iraq, and on the East End of London, can we describe why and how those settings demand different responses while staying thoroughly rooted in Scripture?
The biblical theology approach outlined by Carson demands both theological and cultural exegesis. There are no shortcuts. We need to be steeped in Scripture -- to "bleed Bible" as Charles Spurgeon put it -- and to be on the ground interacting with people in our community, reading what they read, eating where they eat, shopping where they shop. This is where Tim Keller has been so helpful to those living in city centers.
But I do not live in a city center. So when I picked up Al Mohler's Culture Shift, I was hoping for some help in thinking through these questions for a setting less sophisticated than Keller's Upper Manhattan. I occasionally visit Dr. Mohler's blog, and the breadth of his reading and force of his intellect were recurring themes at the latest T4G, so I had some reason to be hopeful. And I was helped by the book, but not in the way I had hoped for.
At its best, Culture Shift uses secular/liberal sources to help evangelicals understand some of the moves being made in contemporary public discourse. The first three chapters on secular arguments against the interaction of Christian faith and public policy are helpful to those who pick up The New York Times op/ed page or wander over to the pages of The Nation and do not see the presuppositions or understand what seems to some to be anti-religious bias. The two chapters on abortion spotlight the fissures that have appeared in recent years in the pro-choice movement. This is helpful.
At its worst, Culture Shift fails to engage the "city of man" well enough to understand the issues with sufficient depth and nuance. One example of this failure is the chapter on the Supreme Court and religion, in which Mohler cites one scholar from one essay over and over, does not acknowledge that other constitutional law scholars disagree with this one source, and clearly has not interacted with the decisions of the Supreme Court directly. Perhaps on this particular matter I am oversensitive, since Establishment Clause jurisprudence was a topic of significant study for me in college. But I see the same superficial analysis in other one-source essays (I never thought I would write that about something Mohler wrote, but it is true here. The Supreme Court's Establishment Clause jurisprudence is a mess -- so what? Tell me something more that is not so obvious.) And the tension in the book between one essay advocating withdrawal from public schools because they are too dangerous for Christian faith, and another essay asking if we are raising a generation of wimps by coddling and sheltering our children, is neither resolved nor acknowledged.
But it is precisely in its failure to engage that I found Culture Shift useful. The book is endorsed by several leaders in evangelicalism that I respect. And that tells me that we evangelicals have not spent enough time on the ground in our communities thinking through how to live out the implications of the gospel. In the next post, I hope to talk about how we can do that better.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Contradictions in politics?
I try to tread lightly when it comes to talking or writing about politics, due mostly to my role as a pastor and thus as the perceived spokesman for a church. But this was just too good...
We recently received some political advertising in the mail -- New York's state primary for Congress is coming up next week. I will not mention which candidate sent the ad, but I will mention two policies the candidate supports in the ad that left me scratching my head.
Policy #1: "Eliminate the subsidies to farmers for growing grain for ethanol."
Policy #2: Support "New Federal Incentives for Alternative Energy Development"
I read in the ad that the candidate blames ethanol production for higher prices for food. I am familiar with both sides of that argument, and frankly the question is complicated enough it makes evaluation nearly impossible for a layman such as myself (though I will admit that it seems to me that rising food prices might be more closely related to the cost of gas than to ethanol subsidies).
But it did strike me as strange that these two policy positions that seem to be at odds with each other would be listed right next to each other in a bulk political mailing. But that might just be my take.
We recently received some political advertising in the mail -- New York's state primary for Congress is coming up next week. I will not mention which candidate sent the ad, but I will mention two policies the candidate supports in the ad that left me scratching my head.
Policy #1: "Eliminate the subsidies to farmers for growing grain for ethanol."
Policy #2: Support "New Federal Incentives for Alternative Energy Development"
I read in the ad that the candidate blames ethanol production for higher prices for food. I am familiar with both sides of that argument, and frankly the question is complicated enough it makes evaluation nearly impossible for a layman such as myself (though I will admit that it seems to me that rising food prices might be more closely related to the cost of gas than to ethanol subsidies).
But it did strike me as strange that these two policy positions that seem to be at odds with each other would be listed right next to each other in a bulk political mailing. But that might just be my take.
Driving with Your Eyes Closed
For the past four days, my family and I have been visiting my relatives in Hot Springs and Pine Bluff, Arkansas. I had thought that I would have time in one evening to eke out a post, but things did not work out that way. In fact, very little of our short trip worked out the way I had planned. Had I to do it over, we would not have headed south this past week. For anyone not keeping track of the weather, there was this small matter of Hurricane Gustav that resulted in overcrowded hotels, nonstop rain for three days, and some tense driving conditions. Not that anyone should feel bad for me and my family -- the evacuees have matters much worse, and Baton Rouge is nowhere near recovering from the storm. It's simply to say that we would have changed our plans if we could. But hotels, rental cars, and airline tickets were all booked and paid for back in July, and family that had not seen my daughter for almost a year was expecting us. So travel we did.
On Wednesday we were driving from Hot Springs to Memphis in a downpour of rain when something frightening happened: the driver's side windshield wiper started to come apart. One of the caps on the wiper has missing, and the two rubber blades were beginning to separate. We pulled off I-40 in Hazen, Ark., and found Parts Plus, an auto parts store owned by the Shelman family. I had planned to replace the wiper and present the receipt to the rental company for reimbursement. The Shelmans would not hear it. One of them stripped the cap off another wiper blade, stood out in the rain, and repaired the wiper blade, explaining that since I had no guarantee that the rental company would reimburse me, it made more sense to repair the blade than replace it. When I asked how much I owed them, they would not accept payment.
We chatted about the weather and nearby barbecue restaurants (Craig's in DeValls Bluff is the best pork sandwich on the planet, and Nick's in Carlisle isn't bad either). And then we headed back out on the road. I thought about how much danger we could have been in if the wiper blade had flown apart while on the interstate while driving through the storms trailing Gustav. I would have been completely blind, and we would have been stranded on the shoulder with a long wait for a tow truck and traffic flying by at high speeds with limited visibility. And I thought about the kindness of the Shelman family and our "good luck" at finding their store.
The reality is that even before the wiper went kaput, we were driving with our eyes closed. Perhaps I am using the phrase a little differently than Don Henley, but it is nevertheless true. All of us are. None of us knows what the next five minutes holds, nevermind the next five years or five decades. And none of us sees what invisible hands direct all that happens, even if we know Whose hands are there. The wiper blade stayed together, and we found the help we needed. We certainly enjoyed divine assistance and protection.
But if the wiper blade had flown apart, and we had been stranded for a time, or worse if in my blindness I had driven off the road or into another vehicle, or another vehicle had plowed into us, those invisible hands would have been no less present. Not only do we not see those hands, not only do we not see the future, we also do not see the purposes and plans that direct that future. And these are thoughts that sober me, but also make me grateful for what those hands have provided so far.
On Wednesday we were driving from Hot Springs to Memphis in a downpour of rain when something frightening happened: the driver's side windshield wiper started to come apart. One of the caps on the wiper has missing, and the two rubber blades were beginning to separate. We pulled off I-40 in Hazen, Ark., and found Parts Plus, an auto parts store owned by the Shelman family. I had planned to replace the wiper and present the receipt to the rental company for reimbursement. The Shelmans would not hear it. One of them stripped the cap off another wiper blade, stood out in the rain, and repaired the wiper blade, explaining that since I had no guarantee that the rental company would reimburse me, it made more sense to repair the blade than replace it. When I asked how much I owed them, they would not accept payment.
We chatted about the weather and nearby barbecue restaurants (Craig's in DeValls Bluff is the best pork sandwich on the planet, and Nick's in Carlisle isn't bad either). And then we headed back out on the road. I thought about how much danger we could have been in if the wiper blade had flown apart while on the interstate while driving through the storms trailing Gustav. I would have been completely blind, and we would have been stranded on the shoulder with a long wait for a tow truck and traffic flying by at high speeds with limited visibility. And I thought about the kindness of the Shelman family and our "good luck" at finding their store.
The reality is that even before the wiper went kaput, we were driving with our eyes closed. Perhaps I am using the phrase a little differently than Don Henley, but it is nevertheless true. All of us are. None of us knows what the next five minutes holds, nevermind the next five years or five decades. And none of us sees what invisible hands direct all that happens, even if we know Whose hands are there. The wiper blade stayed together, and we found the help we needed. We certainly enjoyed divine assistance and protection.
But if the wiper blade had flown apart, and we had been stranded for a time, or worse if in my blindness I had driven off the road or into another vehicle, or another vehicle had plowed into us, those invisible hands would have been no less present. Not only do we not see those hands, not only do we not see the future, we also do not see the purposes and plans that direct that future. And these are thoughts that sober me, but also make me grateful for what those hands have provided so far.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Christ and Culture Revisited
In my last post, I started writing about the question of how Christians may and must engage the culture they live in, using recent addresses by Mark Dever and Tim Keller to help frame the tension that exists in evangelicalism. Today I want to move forward and start providing some direction for finding answers.
Answering this question is impossible, at least in the West, without referring to Richard Niebuhr's classic Christ and Culture. The book is full of flaws that have been very well identified by others, such as an inconsistent concept of "culture" and an inadequate views of Scripture and hermeneutics. But the book, with its fivefold typology for how Christians have approached cultural issues, continues to be useful for several reasons. First, everyone writing on the subject ever since refers to it. Second, it provides a good historical survey of significant church thinkers and their different positions. And third, it associates specific Scripture with different typological positions, which helps the reader see how different Christians come up with different approaches and support them with the Bible.
But Niebuhr's work suffers from two fatal flaws. He pits Scripture against itself, saying for example that 1 John is an example of "Christ against culture" and the Gospel of John is an example of "Christ the transformer of culture." He makes no attempt to synthesize, which is not helpful to anyone that views Scripture as ultimately authored by God and therefore self-consistent. And he puts his typology forward as if any of the categories were acceptable alternatives. There is little help in regard to which type is to be preferred, and it becomes plain to the thoughtful reader that in different historical and cultural situations certain types would be more appropriate than others. Christians in the Orissa state in India are being driven from their homes. Their response to and engagement with the culture will look different from the response of New Song Community Corporation in Harlem, and appropriately so.
This is where D. A. Carson's book Christ and Culture Revisited is so helpful. (Interestingly, both Mark Dever and Tim Keller endorse this book. Does that account for some of the softening of language and convergence I have heard more recently? It is entirely speculation on my part.) Carson begins by reviewing and critiquing Niebuhr, outlines an approach rooted in biblical theology, moves on to engage with postmodern thinkers that might question the whole project of the church standing apart from culture and engaging it, and then applies the biblical metanarrative to some cultural concepts that Americans may think they understand but probably do not: freedom, democracy, equality, etc.
I have seminary-trained friends who have read the book and shrugged their shoulders at it as if to say, "What's the big deal? A call to do biblical theology -- haven't we read dozens of books along those lines?" I must disagree. Carson makes two significant contributions to our understanding of Christ-and-culture questions in his book. First, he reminds us that any approach we adopt needs to engage the entirety of Scripture, and it needs to understand how Scripture hangs together well enough to avoid yanking passages out of context. And second, he actually shows us how to do what he is talking about.
So for example, when someone uses the language of "redeeming culture" by appealing to the cultural mandate, Carson might gently chastise them. You mean well in saying such things, but your understanding of redemption is flawed and needs to be informed by biblical eschatology. But on the other hand, Carson would exhort those who are indifferent to issues of politics, economics, or the fine arts due to wanting to separate from the world to look more closely at their doctrine of creation and God's intent to make all things new. It is a nuanced and helpful approach to Christ-and-culture questions that is thoroughly rooted in Scripture and also allows for flexibility across cultural and historical situations.
Seeing the big picture of the Scriptures, grasping the major plot points of the Bible and mining them for their theological significance, understanding the biblical metanarrative -- this is the first and most important key. We have not yet answered the "may" and "must" questions of cultural engagement (and we may not be able to). But this is the right framework from which to approach such questions.
Answering this question is impossible, at least in the West, without referring to Richard Niebuhr's classic Christ and Culture. The book is full of flaws that have been very well identified by others, such as an inconsistent concept of "culture" and an inadequate views of Scripture and hermeneutics. But the book, with its fivefold typology for how Christians have approached cultural issues, continues to be useful for several reasons. First, everyone writing on the subject ever since refers to it. Second, it provides a good historical survey of significant church thinkers and their different positions. And third, it associates specific Scripture with different typological positions, which helps the reader see how different Christians come up with different approaches and support them with the Bible.
But Niebuhr's work suffers from two fatal flaws. He pits Scripture against itself, saying for example that 1 John is an example of "Christ against culture" and the Gospel of John is an example of "Christ the transformer of culture." He makes no attempt to synthesize, which is not helpful to anyone that views Scripture as ultimately authored by God and therefore self-consistent. And he puts his typology forward as if any of the categories were acceptable alternatives. There is little help in regard to which type is to be preferred, and it becomes plain to the thoughtful reader that in different historical and cultural situations certain types would be more appropriate than others. Christians in the Orissa state in India are being driven from their homes. Their response to and engagement with the culture will look different from the response of New Song Community Corporation in Harlem, and appropriately so.
This is where D. A. Carson's book Christ and Culture Revisited is so helpful. (Interestingly, both Mark Dever and Tim Keller endorse this book. Does that account for some of the softening of language and convergence I have heard more recently? It is entirely speculation on my part.) Carson begins by reviewing and critiquing Niebuhr, outlines an approach rooted in biblical theology, moves on to engage with postmodern thinkers that might question the whole project of the church standing apart from culture and engaging it, and then applies the biblical metanarrative to some cultural concepts that Americans may think they understand but probably do not: freedom, democracy, equality, etc.
I have seminary-trained friends who have read the book and shrugged their shoulders at it as if to say, "What's the big deal? A call to do biblical theology -- haven't we read dozens of books along those lines?" I must disagree. Carson makes two significant contributions to our understanding of Christ-and-culture questions in his book. First, he reminds us that any approach we adopt needs to engage the entirety of Scripture, and it needs to understand how Scripture hangs together well enough to avoid yanking passages out of context. And second, he actually shows us how to do what he is talking about.
So for example, when someone uses the language of "redeeming culture" by appealing to the cultural mandate, Carson might gently chastise them. You mean well in saying such things, but your understanding of redemption is flawed and needs to be informed by biblical eschatology. But on the other hand, Carson would exhort those who are indifferent to issues of politics, economics, or the fine arts due to wanting to separate from the world to look more closely at their doctrine of creation and God's intent to make all things new. It is a nuanced and helpful approach to Christ-and-culture questions that is thoroughly rooted in Scripture and also allows for flexibility across cultural and historical situations.
Seeing the big picture of the Scriptures, grasping the major plot points of the Bible and mining them for their theological significance, understanding the biblical metanarrative -- this is the first and most important key. We have not yet answered the "may" and "must" questions of cultural engagement (and we may not be able to). But this is the right framework from which to approach such questions.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Christ and Culture
When Mark Dever critiqued the idea that Christians can somehow "redeem culture" in his address at the 2008 Together for the Gospel conference, there were reverberations felt both in that room and beyond. He has a point: when we read the Scriptures, the world is only fully transformed when the Lord returns and makes all things new. But part of the thrust of his talk seemed to be that cultural engagement and transformation may be legitimate activities for individual Christians, but not necessarily for the church.
Flash forward a few weeks to another conference, the Dwell Conference in New York City hosted by Redeemer Presbyterian and Acts 29. The thrust of the conference was how to live incarnationally in urban contexts for the good of the city and for the glory of God. This sort of conference is precisely the sort of place that language of "redeeming culture" is heard. And the emphasis was not simply on how individual Christians are to engage and transform, but how the church is to do so. Listen especially to Ed Stetzer's and Eric Mason's talks, but also Tim Keller's on persuasion.
There is a real tension here. Mark Dever certainly sounded as if he were critiquing a big part of what the Dwell Conference was about. Tim Keller has certainly used the language of cultural redemption in the past (and others continue to do so, including Tullian Tchividjian of New City Church at his blog). And it is more than merely a theological or hypothetical argument. What should churches appropriately be involved in? Even more important, how must the church engage the world around it in order to be faithful to Scripture?
I find it interesting to note that Dever admitted that he employed hyperbole at T4G in this interview with Ed Stetzer (if you are impatient, skip ahead to the 4 minute mark). In this video for the Gospel Coalition, he sounds out and out Keller-like in his unpacking of the gospel. And at Dwell, Keller deliberately backed away from the language of "redeeming culture," though without backing away from cultural engagement and transformation. So perhaps Drs. Dever and Keller are not quite so far apart as it seems at first. But the questions still remain: How may churches engage culture? How must churches engage culture? Is there one way to answer these questions? How do we remain faithful to Scripture?
I do not intend to even attempt comprehensive answers. That would be rash and arrogant. But in the next few posts I can write about the issues and suggest some directions that we might take. So that is what I intend to do.
Flash forward a few weeks to another conference, the Dwell Conference in New York City hosted by Redeemer Presbyterian and Acts 29. The thrust of the conference was how to live incarnationally in urban contexts for the good of the city and for the glory of God. This sort of conference is precisely the sort of place that language of "redeeming culture" is heard. And the emphasis was not simply on how individual Christians are to engage and transform, but how the church is to do so. Listen especially to Ed Stetzer's and Eric Mason's talks, but also Tim Keller's on persuasion.
There is a real tension here. Mark Dever certainly sounded as if he were critiquing a big part of what the Dwell Conference was about. Tim Keller has certainly used the language of cultural redemption in the past (and others continue to do so, including Tullian Tchividjian of New City Church at his blog). And it is more than merely a theological or hypothetical argument. What should churches appropriately be involved in? Even more important, how must the church engage the world around it in order to be faithful to Scripture?
I find it interesting to note that Dever admitted that he employed hyperbole at T4G in this interview with Ed Stetzer (if you are impatient, skip ahead to the 4 minute mark). In this video for the Gospel Coalition, he sounds out and out Keller-like in his unpacking of the gospel. And at Dwell, Keller deliberately backed away from the language of "redeeming culture," though without backing away from cultural engagement and transformation. So perhaps Drs. Dever and Keller are not quite so far apart as it seems at first. But the questions still remain: How may churches engage culture? How must churches engage culture? Is there one way to answer these questions? How do we remain faithful to Scripture?
I do not intend to even attempt comprehensive answers. That would be rash and arrogant. But in the next few posts I can write about the issues and suggest some directions that we might take. So that is what I intend to do.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Whom Do You Love More?
Tim Challies recently posted about a question his children asked him: "Daddy, who do you love more, Mommy or us?" Tim writes, "I thought for just a moment and told them the truth. They cried." They cried because Tim answered honestly (and correctly in my estimation) that he loves his wife more. He tried to explain how that's the way it is supposed to be, and how it's better for them, and how one day they would understand more fully.
I commend the post to you, and I don't want to duplicate Tim's reasoning here. What has been just as interesting as the original post are the comments. Many have commented in support of how Tim handled things, but there have been many posts criticizing Tim's answer. Most of the criticisms have centered around priorities and love not going together, or around undermining a child's sense of being loved unconditionally. I'm repeating my comments in modified form here, not to replace but to support and supplement what Tim has already written.
The love between a husband and wife is a high and holy thing. Marriage is called something that God has brought about, that God has joined together and man is not to divide (Matt 19:6), a one flesh relationship of leaving and cleaving (Gen 2:24). Christian marriage is instituted by God to reveal something of the relationship of Christ and His Church (Eph 5:22-33). Note that when Christ says that He came not to bring peace but division within families, the relationship that He leaves unmentioned is the relationship between husband and wife (Matt 10:34-39).
Where in all of Scripture is the love between parent and child put on the same level as that between husband and wife? An appeal to the love between the Father and Son will not suffice — analogies with intertrinitarian relationships break down and should not be pressed further than Scripture itself presses them.
I commend the post to you, and I don't want to duplicate Tim's reasoning here. What has been just as interesting as the original post are the comments. Many have commented in support of how Tim handled things, but there have been many posts criticizing Tim's answer. Most of the criticisms have centered around priorities and love not going together, or around undermining a child's sense of being loved unconditionally. I'm repeating my comments in modified form here, not to replace but to support and supplement what Tim has already written.
The love between a husband and wife is a high and holy thing. Marriage is called something that God has brought about, that God has joined together and man is not to divide (Matt 19:6), a one flesh relationship of leaving and cleaving (Gen 2:24). Christian marriage is instituted by God to reveal something of the relationship of Christ and His Church (Eph 5:22-33). Note that when Christ says that He came not to bring peace but division within families, the relationship that He leaves unmentioned is the relationship between husband and wife (Matt 10:34-39).
Where in all of Scripture is the love between parent and child put on the same level as that between husband and wife? An appeal to the love between the Father and Son will not suffice — analogies with intertrinitarian relationships break down and should not be pressed further than Scripture itself presses them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
I shared with my wife the question Tim's children asked, and her response was, “I hope he said that he loved his wife more.” My wife and I agree that our daughter needs to know that our love for God is ultimate and our love as husband and wife penultimate for at least four reasons. One, it’s biblical. Two, her own sense of love and security rests in part on her sense of the strength and devotion present in our marriage. Three, she is a sinner and will eventually try to split us to get what she wants. It’s part of what children do. And four, the day will come when our daughter leaves home. My love for my wife preceded my daughter, and it will continue after she moves out. My priority must be my wife. These last two points are made particularly well by Carolyn Mahaney in her book Feminine Appeal.
Perhaps some think it overanalytical to prioritize, or that to prioritize means we do not love our children unconditionally. Think of what that would mean for understanding the Greatest Commandments! To see God as our first love would mean that we do not love our neighbor wholeheartedly or unconditionally? Simply taking that sort of reasoning to its logical conclusions shows that priorities do not lessen love or make it conditional somehow.
I do not want ever to need to choose between God and wife, between God and children, between wife and children. But I live in a fallen world. I am a fallen man. My wife is fallen, and my daughter is fallen. So I must think these things through, and make my priorities, before times of trouble come. So God, wife, children it is.