December 31, 2010: Retroactive Fornication
Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure.
Hebrews 13:4
I don't know a single person who isn't a devout Christian who takes premarital chastity seriously. Not even one. Out of all the wedding ceremonies I have conducted, only one was for a couple that wasn't already living together. Only professing Christians seem to understand that sex is for married people. But even among Christians, I have heard expressed a thought on this matter that, in my mind, is fraught with danger. It goes like this:
"When you get down to it, legal marriage is just a piece of paper. My fiance and I are Christians, and we are fully committed to each other for life. So why not have sex now? We're not committing adultery, we're not sleeping around with other people. Since marriage begins (in the eyes of the Lord) with sexual intercourse, we can't be said to be having pre-marital sex at all. In God's reality, we're married already! There's nothing pre- about it. We just haven't announced it or had the ceremony or 'made it official' in the eyes of the world."
Some of you might be very surprised to know that, in principle, I agree that the marriage ceremony in our culture technically involves just a piece of paper with legal implications. And I also agree that that paper, signed on a certain date and accompanied by ceremony and celebration, is not really what constitutes marriage before God. Marriage involves the union of two people. Different cultures mark that union differently, and things like ceremonies and vows and rings and certificates are man-made additions to the universal reality. Isaac just "took Rebekah to his mother's tent" (Genesis 24:66), and wa-la, buddabing-buddaboom, they were married.
So what's wrong with "taking Rebekah to your mother's tent" tonight, and then having the official ceremony, say, five months from now?
Here's the problem. Such couples are not taking into account the dangers of second thoughts and sudden death.
Despite statements to the effect that "We're as good as married already," the fact is that, for some people, the psychological reality of marital commitment does not settle in until the actual wedding day when rings are exchanged. Till that day, some feel they still have the option of calling it off (whether or not they have informed their partners of this conviction.)
True stories of second thoughts and broken relationships (various sources):
Allen is a gullible soul with an admittedly spotty marital record. He is a Christian now and trying to do the right thing. He confessed to a minister that after he "got involved with" Barbara - the last woman he was engaged to - she sat him down one evening some weeks before their scheduled wedding and said, "I'm not so sure that getting married is a good idea." Oops.
Catherine is a pastor's daughter. She met Donald in college, and they got engaged at a time when both were devoted to Christian service. At first they decided to wait till marriage, but then decided that engagement was really pretty much the same thing. She got pregnant five months before they were to wed. When she approached Donald about moving up their wedding date to accommodate the pregnancy, he said, "I'm having second thoughts about getting married at all."
Ellen's bond with Christian worker Franklin seemed almost mystical, and definitely Holy-Spirit led. She even had a vision that confirmed to her that she and Franklin would be together. So why wait till the marriage was official? They didn't wait - and then, to Ellen's shock and bewilderment, Franklin simply walked away.
But "second thoughts" - or one or both partner's inconstancy - is not the only problem. When I referred earlier to the possibility of sudden death, I meant that literally. One of the reasons I give to engaged Christian couples for refraining from sex has to do with the possibility - however remote and tragic - that one of them could die before the wedding. It happens. I personally know two people whose fiances died suddenly and unexpectedly. And I read about one woman, Greta, who told her pastor,
"Hank and I were so much in love...As we counted down the days to the wedding, we began to feel married...That's why when we slept together that night it didn't feel wrong. A few days later Hank was killed in a car accident. He never knew that I was pregnant, and my child will never know his daddy. Please share my story with other students. I hope it will spare them the pain and shame I live with."
If the fiance with whom you are sleeping dies before you wed, you won't be able to say to your future spouse, "I'm a virgin. I saved my virginity for you, for our wedding night."
When Lisa and I got engaged last year, I explained to her the ground rules from the beginning. "We can't have sex till we're married," I said. Please understand - I'm no prude, and my desires are every bit as intense as any other red-blooded male. And I regard Christian extremists who won't kiss until their wedding day as, well, extremists. But I know what the rules are, and I know why they're there. Among the reasons to refrain from premarital sex is what I call "retroactive fornication". It seemed fine when you did it ("We're going to get married anyway!") - until, out of the blue, your partner changed his or her mind, or died. That's when it occurs to you that, somehow (how did this happen?), you got turned into a fornicator after the fact.
Friday, December 31, 2010
December 31, 2010: Friendship With God
Some may have wondered why I objected so strongly last week to the song
I am a friend of God!
I am a friend of God!
I am a friend of God!
He's my friend!
So I would like to explain.
I know of three cases in the Bible that speak of friendship with the Almighty. They concern Moses, Abraham, and the disciples of Jesus Christ.
1) Moses
Exodus 33:11 says, "The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend." This passage distinguishes Moses from other prophets. In Numbers 12:6-8, when Moses' siblings criticize his choice of a wife, the Lord says to them, “When there is a prophet among you, I, the Lord, reveal myself to him in visions, I speak to him in dreams. But this is not true of my servant Moses; he is faithful in all my house. With him I speak face to face, clearly and not in riddles; he sees the form of the Lord. Why then were you not afraid to speak against my servant Moses?”
So Moses was on spectacularly friendly terms with Jehovah. But of course, as the texts make clear, he was an exception.
2) Abraham
In 2 Chronicles 20:7 the chronicler asks, "Our God, did you not drive out the inhabitants of this land before your people Israel and give it forever to the descendants of Abraham your friend?" This is the verse that James alludes to when he writes, "And the scripture was fulfilled that says, 'Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness,' and he was called God's friend." (James 2:23)
Old Testament and New Testament alike confirm that Abraham was a friend of God.
3) The Disciples of Christ
Jesus says to his disciples in John 15:14-15, "You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you."
Jesus graciously called his disciples friends.
Please notice (it's the vital point!) that in none of these cases does a man call himself a friend of God. God is the one who makes that designation - whether directly or through inspiring the chronicler or apostle.
If Jesus calls you his friend, that's fine. But should you call yourself his friend? Absolutely not. He has commanded you to do otherwise. In Luke 17:10 he said to his disciples, "So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy slaves; we have only done our duty.'" How interesting! When we do everything commanded of us, Jesus calls us "friends" (John 15:15) but insists that we call ourselves "unworthy servants" (Luke 17:10).
Of course, for many of us, this point is moot because we haven't been obedient to his commands in the first place. But let me assume (generous assumption) that you indeed have been as obedient to the Lord as Abraham, Moses and the disciples of Christ. Let me recommend to you a role model regarding self-designation: the Apostle Paul. Paul, the greatest missionary the world has ever known and author of half the books of the New Testament, never dared call himself a "friend of Christ." The term he preferred was the one Jesus commanded: doulos, slave:
Romans 1:1: Paul, a slave of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, and set apart for the gospel of God,
Galatians 1:10b: If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a slave of Christ.
Titus 1:1: Paul, a slave of God, and an apostle of Jesus Christ for the faith of God's elect and the knowledge of the truth that leads to godliness
Paul's did not use that term "slave" for himself alone - he applied it to others too:
Colossians 4:12: Epaphras, who is one of you and a slave of Christ Jesus, sends greetings
2 Timothy 2:24: And the Lord's slave must not quarrel: instead, he must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful.
The song "I am a friend of God!" makes the ghastly mistake of assuming that something that may be true about us is seemly and appropriate when said by us. But this is manifestly false. We might say, "John Doe is a worthy recipient of the Congressional Medal of Honor," but if Mr. Doe himself says, "I am a worthy recipient of the Congressional Medal of Honor" we'd recoil in disgust. My brothers and I will all tell you, "Lowell Lundquist was the finest man we ever knew." But the thought of my father himself affirming "I am the finest man I know" is an imagination so perverse and alien that I can barely type the words.
No one understands this better than my lovely wife, whose praises I sing with constant joy but who cannot manage to say one kind word about herself. In her bones she knows the truth of Proverbs 27:2: "Let someone else praise you, and not your own mouth; an outsider, and not your own lips."
So please don't say "I am a friend of God" until you can honestly put yourself in the company of Abraham, Moses, and the disciples of Jesus Christ. Don't say it until you have fulfilled the condition that Jesus placed upon such friendship in John 15:14: obedience to his commands.
And don't say it even then.
Some may have wondered why I objected so strongly last week to the song
I am a friend of God!
I am a friend of God!
I am a friend of God!
He's my friend!
So I would like to explain.
I know of three cases in the Bible that speak of friendship with the Almighty. They concern Moses, Abraham, and the disciples of Jesus Christ.
1) Moses
Exodus 33:11 says, "The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend." This passage distinguishes Moses from other prophets. In Numbers 12:6-8, when Moses' siblings criticize his choice of a wife, the Lord says to them, “When there is a prophet among you, I, the Lord, reveal myself to him in visions, I speak to him in dreams. But this is not true of my servant Moses; he is faithful in all my house. With him I speak face to face, clearly and not in riddles; he sees the form of the Lord. Why then were you not afraid to speak against my servant Moses?”
So Moses was on spectacularly friendly terms with Jehovah. But of course, as the texts make clear, he was an exception.
2) Abraham
In 2 Chronicles 20:7 the chronicler asks, "Our God, did you not drive out the inhabitants of this land before your people Israel and give it forever to the descendants of Abraham your friend?" This is the verse that James alludes to when he writes, "And the scripture was fulfilled that says, 'Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness,' and he was called God's friend." (James 2:23)
Old Testament and New Testament alike confirm that Abraham was a friend of God.
3) The Disciples of Christ
Jesus says to his disciples in John 15:14-15, "You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you."
Jesus graciously called his disciples friends.
Please notice (it's the vital point!) that in none of these cases does a man call himself a friend of God. God is the one who makes that designation - whether directly or through inspiring the chronicler or apostle.
If Jesus calls you his friend, that's fine. But should you call yourself his friend? Absolutely not. He has commanded you to do otherwise. In Luke 17:10 he said to his disciples, "So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy slaves; we have only done our duty.'" How interesting! When we do everything commanded of us, Jesus calls us "friends" (John 15:15) but insists that we call ourselves "unworthy servants" (Luke 17:10).
Of course, for many of us, this point is moot because we haven't been obedient to his commands in the first place. But let me assume (generous assumption) that you indeed have been as obedient to the Lord as Abraham, Moses and the disciples of Christ. Let me recommend to you a role model regarding self-designation: the Apostle Paul. Paul, the greatest missionary the world has ever known and author of half the books of the New Testament, never dared call himself a "friend of Christ." The term he preferred was the one Jesus commanded: doulos, slave:
Romans 1:1: Paul, a slave of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, and set apart for the gospel of God,
Galatians 1:10b: If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a slave of Christ.
Titus 1:1: Paul, a slave of God, and an apostle of Jesus Christ for the faith of God's elect and the knowledge of the truth that leads to godliness
Paul's did not use that term "slave" for himself alone - he applied it to others too:
Colossians 4:12: Epaphras, who is one of you and a slave of Christ Jesus, sends greetings
2 Timothy 2:24: And the Lord's slave must not quarrel: instead, he must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful.
The song "I am a friend of God!" makes the ghastly mistake of assuming that something that may be true about us is seemly and appropriate when said by us. But this is manifestly false. We might say, "John Doe is a worthy recipient of the Congressional Medal of Honor," but if Mr. Doe himself says, "I am a worthy recipient of the Congressional Medal of Honor" we'd recoil in disgust. My brothers and I will all tell you, "Lowell Lundquist was the finest man we ever knew." But the thought of my father himself affirming "I am the finest man I know" is an imagination so perverse and alien that I can barely type the words.
No one understands this better than my lovely wife, whose praises I sing with constant joy but who cannot manage to say one kind word about herself. In her bones she knows the truth of Proverbs 27:2: "Let someone else praise you, and not your own mouth; an outsider, and not your own lips."
So please don't say "I am a friend of God" until you can honestly put yourself in the company of Abraham, Moses, and the disciples of Jesus Christ. Don't say it until you have fulfilled the condition that Jesus placed upon such friendship in John 15:14: obedience to his commands.
And don't say it even then.
December 27, 2010: Plain Speech On The Destiny Of Sinners
What do you think of the following quote from John Calvin?
When men have repented, and thus give evidence that they are reconciled to God, they are no longer the same persons that they formerly were. But let all fornicators, or unclean or covetous persons, so long as they continue such, be assured that they have no friendship with God, and are deprived of all hope of salvation.
Too strong?
In a church I have attended, we sing a chorus that goes
I am a friend of God!
I am a friend of God!
I am a friend of God!
He's my friend!
We repeat these phrases ad nauseum - literally, to the vomiting - to the point where I wonder if many who came to church longing for reverent and thoughtful worship now just want to go home. But I will leave aside the matter of lyrics that indulge our passion for "vain repetition" (Matthew 6:7). I will also leave aside the question of whether, since God calls some people his friends (Exodus 33:11, John 15:15, James 2:23), it is therefore right for us to call ourselves his friends. (The answer is a resounding "NO!" - but again, I will leave that discussion for another day.)
The question I am interested in now is whether Calvin was right that fornicators, coveters and immoral people "have no friendship with God" and "are deprived of all hope of salvation." (Please note Calvin's qualifier, so long as they continue such.)
What do you think? And what do you think would happen if Calvin preached that message at your church this Sunday? What if he told the greedy people in your church, and the people who sleep with their boyfriends and girlfriends, that they lied when they sang, "I am a friend of God"? What if he told them that they were not saved, that they were on their way to hell, that for them (as long as they continued in their sin) there was "only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God" (Hebrews 10:27)? Would Reverend Calvin be invited back to your church next Sunday?
And not just Calvin. Read Jonathan Edwards' Treatise On The Religious Affections, Dietrich Bonehoeffer's Cost Of Discipleship, or any half dozen of Charles Spurgeon's sermons, and ask yourself how many modern pulpits are there out of which such men would not be chased. Spurgeon - to cite one example - flatly denied that liars are saved. "If God has not made you honest," he preached, "he has not saved your soul." It is inconceivable that such a statement would go unchallenged in just about any large church today. The elders would want to meet with Spurgeon afterward. They would protest that he had denied the gospel of grace, and that he didn't understand that God saves us "just the way we are" (even if we remain liars), and that there is nothing we have to do (like tell the truth) to be in good standing with God. "All the other religions of the world are spelled 'D-O,' Charles!" (Of course, Spurgeon, whose blood ran bibline, would respond to such misguided rhetoric by quoting Revelation 21:8.)
Ever since I left the pulpit in August of 2009 and have of necessity been doing a lot more listening than preaching and teaching, I have experienced a growing sense of spiritual vertigo. (My lovely, longsuffering wife has borne the brunt of this turmoil in countless discussions - she's the only poor creature I have to preach to!) My disquiet has to do with the fact that so many concepts that I assumed were second nature to Bible-believing Christians (damnation of the wicked, transformational grace, perseverance of the saints) are in fact controversial, and have met with stubborn, almost angry opposition. That is one reason why I post the Calvin quote above and ask if you agree with it. Do you think Calvin is obviously correct? Controversial? At odds with what you tend to hear on Sunday mornings? Or is he just utterly wrong, judgmental and grace-defying?
Before you say you disagree with Calvin, please be advised that he was commenting rather straightforwardly on Ephesians 5:5: "For of this you can be sure: No immoral, impure or greedy person — such a person is an idolater — has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God." I myself cannot see how, biblically, Calvin's comment can be assailed on any point whatsoever.
I'll go further. If we agree with Ephesians 5:5 and Calvin's pedestrian interpretation of it, are we willing to say it? Will we dare preach it from our pulpits? Will we ever dare apply it to some individual who persists in unrepentant sin? Or do we prefer to leave it unsaid, cover its light with a bushel basket lest the searing heat offend and alienate?
When commenting on the related rhetorical question in 1 Corinthians 6:9: "Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God?" Calvin wrote,
The wicked, then, do inherit the kingdom of God, but it is only in the event of their having been first converted to the Lord in true repentance, and having in this way ceased to be wicked. For although conversion is not the ground of pardon, yet we know that none are reconciled to God but those who repent. The [question mark]...is emphatic, for it intimates that he states nothing but what they themselves know, and is matter of common remark among all pious persons.
In St Paul's day, and in Calvin's, it was indeed a "matter of common remark among all pious persons" that the wicked do not inherit the kingdom of God. Is it still so in ours?
What do you think of the following quote from John Calvin?
When men have repented, and thus give evidence that they are reconciled to God, they are no longer the same persons that they formerly were. But let all fornicators, or unclean or covetous persons, so long as they continue such, be assured that they have no friendship with God, and are deprived of all hope of salvation.
Too strong?
In a church I have attended, we sing a chorus that goes
I am a friend of God!
I am a friend of God!
I am a friend of God!
He's my friend!
We repeat these phrases ad nauseum - literally, to the vomiting - to the point where I wonder if many who came to church longing for reverent and thoughtful worship now just want to go home. But I will leave aside the matter of lyrics that indulge our passion for "vain repetition" (Matthew 6:7). I will also leave aside the question of whether, since God calls some people his friends (Exodus 33:11, John 15:15, James 2:23), it is therefore right for us to call ourselves his friends. (The answer is a resounding "NO!" - but again, I will leave that discussion for another day.)
The question I am interested in now is whether Calvin was right that fornicators, coveters and immoral people "have no friendship with God" and "are deprived of all hope of salvation." (Please note Calvin's qualifier, so long as they continue such.)
What do you think? And what do you think would happen if Calvin preached that message at your church this Sunday? What if he told the greedy people in your church, and the people who sleep with their boyfriends and girlfriends, that they lied when they sang, "I am a friend of God"? What if he told them that they were not saved, that they were on their way to hell, that for them (as long as they continued in their sin) there was "only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God" (Hebrews 10:27)? Would Reverend Calvin be invited back to your church next Sunday?
And not just Calvin. Read Jonathan Edwards' Treatise On The Religious Affections, Dietrich Bonehoeffer's Cost Of Discipleship, or any half dozen of Charles Spurgeon's sermons, and ask yourself how many modern pulpits are there out of which such men would not be chased. Spurgeon - to cite one example - flatly denied that liars are saved. "If God has not made you honest," he preached, "he has not saved your soul." It is inconceivable that such a statement would go unchallenged in just about any large church today. The elders would want to meet with Spurgeon afterward. They would protest that he had denied the gospel of grace, and that he didn't understand that God saves us "just the way we are" (even if we remain liars), and that there is nothing we have to do (like tell the truth) to be in good standing with God. "All the other religions of the world are spelled 'D-O,' Charles!" (Of course, Spurgeon, whose blood ran bibline, would respond to such misguided rhetoric by quoting Revelation 21:8.)
Ever since I left the pulpit in August of 2009 and have of necessity been doing a lot more listening than preaching and teaching, I have experienced a growing sense of spiritual vertigo. (My lovely, longsuffering wife has borne the brunt of this turmoil in countless discussions - she's the only poor creature I have to preach to!) My disquiet has to do with the fact that so many concepts that I assumed were second nature to Bible-believing Christians (damnation of the wicked, transformational grace, perseverance of the saints) are in fact controversial, and have met with stubborn, almost angry opposition. That is one reason why I post the Calvin quote above and ask if you agree with it. Do you think Calvin is obviously correct? Controversial? At odds with what you tend to hear on Sunday mornings? Or is he just utterly wrong, judgmental and grace-defying?
Before you say you disagree with Calvin, please be advised that he was commenting rather straightforwardly on Ephesians 5:5: "For of this you can be sure: No immoral, impure or greedy person — such a person is an idolater — has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God." I myself cannot see how, biblically, Calvin's comment can be assailed on any point whatsoever.
I'll go further. If we agree with Ephesians 5:5 and Calvin's pedestrian interpretation of it, are we willing to say it? Will we dare preach it from our pulpits? Will we ever dare apply it to some individual who persists in unrepentant sin? Or do we prefer to leave it unsaid, cover its light with a bushel basket lest the searing heat offend and alienate?
When commenting on the related rhetorical question in 1 Corinthians 6:9: "Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God?" Calvin wrote,
The wicked, then, do inherit the kingdom of God, but it is only in the event of their having been first converted to the Lord in true repentance, and having in this way ceased to be wicked. For although conversion is not the ground of pardon, yet we know that none are reconciled to God but those who repent. The [question mark]...is emphatic, for it intimates that he states nothing but what they themselves know, and is matter of common remark among all pious persons.
In St Paul's day, and in Calvin's, it was indeed a "matter of common remark among all pious persons" that the wicked do not inherit the kingdom of God. Is it still so in ours?
Sunday, December 19, 2010
December 21, 2010: What It Means To Abide In Christ
In her great novel about missionary disillusionment, No Graven Image, Elizabeth Elliot tells about an American pastor, Reverend Perkins, who gave a series of messages at a missionary conference. Elliot writes,
[Mr. Perkins] told one or two humorous stories and proceeded to speak about bearing fruit for Christ, using the fifteenth chapter of John as his text. "The secret, beloved," said Mr. Perkins, "is to abide. Abide in the Vine. Christ is the Vine. Just abide. Now isn't that simple? You and I get so busy running here and there, doing things for Christ, trying to serve the Lord, when all He tells us to do is abide." He explained in careful detail how the branches abide in the vine, and left me wondering, as I had wondered all my life, what Jesus had meant by the word abide. The secret that Mr. Perkins had set out to divulge was still a secret to me.
Thank you, dear sister Elizabeth!
I too have heard over the years unintelligible, vaguely mystical interpretations of the phrase "abide in Christ." Just the other day I heard a shining example of it. A preacher on Christian radio talked about a man who was in debt and worried about finances. As the man fretted over the pile of bills on his desk, he suddenly decided that he was going to "turn it over to God" (whatever that means) and not let the money problems bother him any more. "That, my friends," said the preacher, "is abiding in Christ."
No it isn't.
Abiding in Christ is not a matter of adopting a "no worries" attitude toward your finances - or toward your family, work, or mission in life. Calmness in the face of trouble may reflect - at best - strong faith and a determination to obey Jesus' command not to "worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear" (Luke 6:22). Or it may reveal - at worst - a contemptibly lazy dismissal of duties and responsibilities of the sort condemned in 2 Thessalonians 3:10: "If a man will not work, neither let him eat." But either way, "letting go and letting God" has nothing to do with the commandment of Jesus, "Abide in me" (John 15:4).
The Greek word for "abide" means remain, stay, continue, persevere. Perhaps it is best understood by referring to its opposites: depart from, abandon, go away, desert.
Simply put, "abiding in Christ" means remaining true to him. It means not committing apostasy, not renouncing or rejecting him. It is a mistake to scold harried missionaries and financially troubled fathers for failing to "abide in Christ" during those times when they are busy or burdened. They're still abiding. Judas was the only disciple who did not abide in Christ. He deserted and betrayed Christ. The rest abode. When Jesus gave them the option to depart, or to cease their abiding ("Will you also go away?" John 6:67) - they turned it down, and Peter spoke for all when he said, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God." (John 6:68-69).
Preachers like the fictional Reverend Perkins (or the real one I heard on the radio the other day) fail to see that just two verses after Jesus commands his disciples to abide, he warns them, "If you do not abide in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned" (John 15:6).
In Jesus' preaching, getting burned by fire is a picture of going to hell, as in the six examples below.
Matthew 13:40-41: "As the weeds are pulled up and burned in the fire, so it will be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send out his angels, and they will weed out of his kingdom everything that causes sin and all who do evil. They will throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth."
Luke 16:24: "So he called to him, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’"
Matthew 5:22: "But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister, ‘Raca,’ is answerable to the court. And anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell."
Matthew 7:19: "Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."
Matthew 18:8-9: "If your hand or your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life maimed or crippled than to have two hands or two feet and be thrown into eternal fire."
Matthew 25:41: "Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.'"
To summarize:
"Abiding in Christ" is not a mystical antidote for the busy activity of serving the Lord, nor is it an attitude of deliberate indifference to the pressure of unpaid bills. It is a simple description of faithfulness to Jesus. If you abide in him - that is, if you remain true to him, you will bear the fruit of righteousness. If you do not abide in him - that is, if you choose to commit apostasy by rejecting him, you will go to hell.
In her great novel about missionary disillusionment, No Graven Image, Elizabeth Elliot tells about an American pastor, Reverend Perkins, who gave a series of messages at a missionary conference. Elliot writes,
[Mr. Perkins] told one or two humorous stories and proceeded to speak about bearing fruit for Christ, using the fifteenth chapter of John as his text. "The secret, beloved," said Mr. Perkins, "is to abide. Abide in the Vine. Christ is the Vine. Just abide. Now isn't that simple? You and I get so busy running here and there, doing things for Christ, trying to serve the Lord, when all He tells us to do is abide." He explained in careful detail how the branches abide in the vine, and left me wondering, as I had wondered all my life, what Jesus had meant by the word abide. The secret that Mr. Perkins had set out to divulge was still a secret to me.
Thank you, dear sister Elizabeth!
I too have heard over the years unintelligible, vaguely mystical interpretations of the phrase "abide in Christ." Just the other day I heard a shining example of it. A preacher on Christian radio talked about a man who was in debt and worried about finances. As the man fretted over the pile of bills on his desk, he suddenly decided that he was going to "turn it over to God" (whatever that means) and not let the money problems bother him any more. "That, my friends," said the preacher, "is abiding in Christ."
No it isn't.
Abiding in Christ is not a matter of adopting a "no worries" attitude toward your finances - or toward your family, work, or mission in life. Calmness in the face of trouble may reflect - at best - strong faith and a determination to obey Jesus' command not to "worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear" (Luke 6:22). Or it may reveal - at worst - a contemptibly lazy dismissal of duties and responsibilities of the sort condemned in 2 Thessalonians 3:10: "If a man will not work, neither let him eat." But either way, "letting go and letting God" has nothing to do with the commandment of Jesus, "Abide in me" (John 15:4).
The Greek word for "abide" means remain, stay, continue, persevere. Perhaps it is best understood by referring to its opposites: depart from, abandon, go away, desert.
Simply put, "abiding in Christ" means remaining true to him. It means not committing apostasy, not renouncing or rejecting him. It is a mistake to scold harried missionaries and financially troubled fathers for failing to "abide in Christ" during those times when they are busy or burdened. They're still abiding. Judas was the only disciple who did not abide in Christ. He deserted and betrayed Christ. The rest abode. When Jesus gave them the option to depart, or to cease their abiding ("Will you also go away?" John 6:67) - they turned it down, and Peter spoke for all when he said, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God." (John 6:68-69).
Preachers like the fictional Reverend Perkins (or the real one I heard on the radio the other day) fail to see that just two verses after Jesus commands his disciples to abide, he warns them, "If you do not abide in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned" (John 15:6).
In Jesus' preaching, getting burned by fire is a picture of going to hell, as in the six examples below.
Matthew 13:40-41: "As the weeds are pulled up and burned in the fire, so it will be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send out his angels, and they will weed out of his kingdom everything that causes sin and all who do evil. They will throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth."
Luke 16:24: "So he called to him, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’"
Matthew 5:22: "But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister, ‘Raca,’ is answerable to the court. And anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell."
Matthew 7:19: "Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."
Matthew 18:8-9: "If your hand or your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life maimed or crippled than to have two hands or two feet and be thrown into eternal fire."
Matthew 25:41: "Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.'"
To summarize:
"Abiding in Christ" is not a mystical antidote for the busy activity of serving the Lord, nor is it an attitude of deliberate indifference to the pressure of unpaid bills. It is a simple description of faithfulness to Jesus. If you abide in him - that is, if you remain true to him, you will bear the fruit of righteousness. If you do not abide in him - that is, if you choose to commit apostasy by rejecting him, you will go to hell.
Monday, November 8, 2010
November 8, 2010: Perspective
On the 8th of every month I write my wife a poem or song to celebrate our anniversary (we were married August 8, 2009). Usually those poems rhyme, but the one I wrote last night is just a simple free-verse reflection. Since it has some theological content, and because I don't plan to write any Pastor's Pages until January, I thought I'd post it here.
Happy 15 Month Anniversary Sweetheart
Now I know that every trial
(Grief, sorrow, disappointment, failure)
That I have ever known
Had a part in bringing me to you.
Take one of them away
Just one of them
Any one of them
And we would not have met, or loved.
So I glory now in all those old scars.
I thank the most compassionate and merciful God
For every pain that hindered my way
And blocked all roads but the one that led to you.
If you asked me two years ago
“Paul, how would you like your life to have been different?”
I could have told you.
I could have given you a list.
Not any more. That list is in the trash.
If I were given my life to do over
I’d want everything exactly the same,
Knowing that at age 46 I’d meet you.
God teaches me through you to endure present trials.
The old ones led to you -
You who are delightful beyond measure!
You who are so blind to your goodness and virtue and grace!
So the new trials will also lead somewhere good.
It’s only logical.
It’s the way God works.
A man just has to be patient.
Sweet Lisa, wonderful Lisa, blessed Lisa
You bring me joys I never thought I’d know
And you teach me lessons
I never thought I had to learn.
On the 8th of every month I write my wife a poem or song to celebrate our anniversary (we were married August 8, 2009). Usually those poems rhyme, but the one I wrote last night is just a simple free-verse reflection. Since it has some theological content, and because I don't plan to write any Pastor's Pages until January, I thought I'd post it here.
Happy 15 Month Anniversary Sweetheart
Now I know that every trial
(Grief, sorrow, disappointment, failure)
That I have ever known
Had a part in bringing me to you.
Take one of them away
Just one of them
Any one of them
And we would not have met, or loved.
So I glory now in all those old scars.
I thank the most compassionate and merciful God
For every pain that hindered my way
And blocked all roads but the one that led to you.
If you asked me two years ago
“Paul, how would you like your life to have been different?”
I could have told you.
I could have given you a list.
Not any more. That list is in the trash.
If I were given my life to do over
I’d want everything exactly the same,
Knowing that at age 46 I’d meet you.
God teaches me through you to endure present trials.
The old ones led to you -
You who are delightful beyond measure!
You who are so blind to your goodness and virtue and grace!
So the new trials will also lead somewhere good.
It’s only logical.
It’s the way God works.
A man just has to be patient.
Sweet Lisa, wonderful Lisa, blessed Lisa
You bring me joys I never thought I’d know
And you teach me lessons
I never thought I had to learn.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Hiatus
By God's grace I have two jobs now (one full-time days, the other evenings and occasional weekends) that I expect to keep me very busy through the end of December. So - with some reluctance and regret - I plan to take a break from writing Pastor's Pages until about January 1st. Please check back in January 2011 when, Lord willing, I'll have the time (and energy!) to write some more stuff.
All good things to all of you,
Paul
By God's grace I have two jobs now (one full-time days, the other evenings and occasional weekends) that I expect to keep me very busy through the end of December. So - with some reluctance and regret - I plan to take a break from writing Pastor's Pages until about January 1st. Please check back in January 2011 when, Lord willing, I'll have the time (and energy!) to write some more stuff.
All good things to all of you,
Paul
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
October 19, 2010: How To Start A Sermon
No pastors that I know of read my blog, but I've decided not to let that stop me from offering a piece of homiletic counsel just in case one of them happens to see this page.
Start your sermons with the word "In" followed by a reference to the Scripture text that has just been read. For example,
"In verse 17 Jesus tells his disciples..."
"In verse 4 St. Paul brings up the topic of..."
"In verse 9 we are told that the wicked..."
"In verse 11 the writer of Hebrews says..."
When these are the very first words out of your mouth after the Scripture reading, they demonstrate a seriousness of purpose to your congregation. They force people to pay attention from the outset, because they send an immediate message that you are not going to waste their time with chatter, meandering introduction, or inane banter. (Some parishioners may be shocked - pleasantly so - that you are getting to your point so quickly.) And such words also help discipline your own thoughts, because they leave you no choice but to focus on the text.
And please, never EVER start a sermon with
"Didn't the worship team do a great job? I tell you, my heart was really blessed..."
"I'm so glad to be with you here in Chicago in February. In San Diego, where I'm from, we never have to scrape ice off the..."
"Shh! I'm a secret agent..." [The literal first line of a sermon I heard years ago.]
"For the last few weeks, we've been talking about..."
"I have a bit of a cold this morning..."
"On my way to church today..."
"A priest, a rabbi and a pastor were on the golf course one morning..."
"This is my first sermon and I'm really nervous..."
"My name is Paul and I'm..." [Who cares who you are?]
When I was in seminary, we were taught to start our sermons with an attention-grabbing introduction. That's all wrong.
Start with the text.
No pastors that I know of read my blog, but I've decided not to let that stop me from offering a piece of homiletic counsel just in case one of them happens to see this page.
Start your sermons with the word "In" followed by a reference to the Scripture text that has just been read. For example,
"In verse 17 Jesus tells his disciples..."
"In verse 4 St. Paul brings up the topic of..."
"In verse 9 we are told that the wicked..."
"In verse 11 the writer of Hebrews says..."
When these are the very first words out of your mouth after the Scripture reading, they demonstrate a seriousness of purpose to your congregation. They force people to pay attention from the outset, because they send an immediate message that you are not going to waste their time with chatter, meandering introduction, or inane banter. (Some parishioners may be shocked - pleasantly so - that you are getting to your point so quickly.) And such words also help discipline your own thoughts, because they leave you no choice but to focus on the text.
And please, never EVER start a sermon with
"Didn't the worship team do a great job? I tell you, my heart was really blessed..."
"I'm so glad to be with you here in Chicago in February. In San Diego, where I'm from, we never have to scrape ice off the..."
"Shh! I'm a secret agent..." [The literal first line of a sermon I heard years ago.]
"For the last few weeks, we've been talking about..."
"I have a bit of a cold this morning..."
"On my way to church today..."
"A priest, a rabbi and a pastor were on the golf course one morning..."
"This is my first sermon and I'm really nervous..."
"My name is Paul and I'm..." [Who cares who you are?]
When I was in seminary, we were taught to start our sermons with an attention-grabbing introduction. That's all wrong.
Start with the text.
Monday, October 11, 2010
October 12, 2010: Ancient Wisdom For Bipolars
In 1373 Lady Julian of Norwich experienced a series of mystical impressions which she wrote about in Revelations of Divine Love. I think her "Seventh Shewing" indicates that she suffered from a bi-polar affliction:
And after this, he put a most high inward happiness in my soul. I was filled full of endless certainty and it was sustained so strongly that it left no room for doubts and fears. This feeling was so happy and so holy and put me in such peace and rest that there was nothing on earth that had the power to make me sad. This lasted only a while, and then my mood was changed and I was left on my own in sadness and weariness of life. I loathed myself so much that I could hardly bear to live. There was nothing to comfort me or give me any ease except for faith, hope and love. And although I knew them to be true, they gave me little joy.
And soon after this, our blessed Lord gave me again that comfort and rest of soul so blissful and mighty in its sureness and delight that no fear, no sorrow and no bodily pain that I might suffer could have taken away my peace. And then the sadness once more overcame my mind, and then the joy and gladness, and now the one, and now the other - I suppose about twenty times.
And in the time of joy I might have said with St. Paul: "Nothing shall separate me from the love of Christ." And in sadness I might have said with St. Peter: "Lord, save me, for I perish."
Twenty mood swings! Poor woman - give her some depakote. Clearly she had a chemical imbalance. A little alteration in the molecules of her synapses might have leveled the mental/spiritual roller coaster and set her on a steady emotional plane.
But there were no mood-stabilizing drugs in 1373, and afflicted persons simply had to make do with the alternating morose and ecstatic brains that God gave them. I suppose that trying to reason well while suffering from bipolar disorder might have been like trying to drive a car whose engine races then stalls. It can be done - but you need God's grace and Solomon's wisdom and Job's patience. Thankfully, the blessed Lady of Norwich had all three. She concluded:
The vision was shown me, as I understood it, because it is necessary to some souls to feel this way - sometimes to know comfort, and sometimes to fail and be left on their own. God wants us to know that he keeps us safe through good and ill.
For his soul's sake a man is sometimes left on his own, but his sin is not always the cause. For during this time I did not sin, so why should I have been forsaken, and so suddenly? Also, I did nothing to deserve this feeling of bliss.
But our Lord freely gives what it is his will to give, and sometimes lets us suffer woe - and both are part of one love. For bliss is lasting and pain is passing and shall come to nothing for those that shall be saved.
And therefore it is not God's will that we should linger over pain, but that we should pass quickly through it to joy without end.
I believe Lady Julian was right. I love her words "it is necessary" (in the original, "speedful") for some souls to feel alternating comfort and desolation. They remind me of Jesus' "it is proper" when John asked him why in the world he wanted to get baptized (Matthew 3:15). It was just the way it had to be. God's best purposes could not be fulfilled otherwise. Some people must suffer emotional woe - not so that they might live in that state permanently, or deliberately milk sympathy from others, or develop perverse pleasure in their own melancholy - but so that (among other things) they might pass through that sorrow to even greater joy in the presence of God.
There is also a place for the frenzied activity of the elated manic. Josh MacDowell wrote his influential bestseller "More Than A Carpenter" in a single sitting in 48 hours. That's something no balanced midpolar person could ever do. And certain elements of St. Paul's life sometimes suggest to me a manic-depressive who never went depressive.
Do not misunderstand me. I am not against mood-flattening drugs for those who need them. In some cases they are as necessary to sustain life as insulin is for a diabetic. I am just saying that there is a place in the will and providence of God for both despairing sorrow and lively exaltation. A friend of mine, who was medicated for a while, said, wisely, "I think I'd rather feel sad than feel nothing." C. S. Lewis would have agreed. In The Pilgrim's Regress, an angel explains to Pilgrim John that the unfulfilled longings of those who fall short of God's glory are not exactly a punishment, because "any liberal man would choose the pain of this desire, even for ever, rather than the peace of feeling it no longer: and that though the best thing is to have, the next best is to want, and the worst of all is not to want." John replies, "I see that. Even the wanting, though it is a pain too, is more precious than anything else we experience."
God bless all you bipolars, who don't quite have the brain that you want. Keep trusting Jesus Christ, and someday you will see fulfilled the lovely words of assurance given to Julian of Norwich: "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."
In 1373 Lady Julian of Norwich experienced a series of mystical impressions which she wrote about in Revelations of Divine Love. I think her "Seventh Shewing" indicates that she suffered from a bi-polar affliction:
And after this, he put a most high inward happiness in my soul. I was filled full of endless certainty and it was sustained so strongly that it left no room for doubts and fears. This feeling was so happy and so holy and put me in such peace and rest that there was nothing on earth that had the power to make me sad. This lasted only a while, and then my mood was changed and I was left on my own in sadness and weariness of life. I loathed myself so much that I could hardly bear to live. There was nothing to comfort me or give me any ease except for faith, hope and love. And although I knew them to be true, they gave me little joy.
And soon after this, our blessed Lord gave me again that comfort and rest of soul so blissful and mighty in its sureness and delight that no fear, no sorrow and no bodily pain that I might suffer could have taken away my peace. And then the sadness once more overcame my mind, and then the joy and gladness, and now the one, and now the other - I suppose about twenty times.
And in the time of joy I might have said with St. Paul: "Nothing shall separate me from the love of Christ." And in sadness I might have said with St. Peter: "Lord, save me, for I perish."
Twenty mood swings! Poor woman - give her some depakote. Clearly she had a chemical imbalance. A little alteration in the molecules of her synapses might have leveled the mental/spiritual roller coaster and set her on a steady emotional plane.
But there were no mood-stabilizing drugs in 1373, and afflicted persons simply had to make do with the alternating morose and ecstatic brains that God gave them. I suppose that trying to reason well while suffering from bipolar disorder might have been like trying to drive a car whose engine races then stalls. It can be done - but you need God's grace and Solomon's wisdom and Job's patience. Thankfully, the blessed Lady of Norwich had all three. She concluded:
The vision was shown me, as I understood it, because it is necessary to some souls to feel this way - sometimes to know comfort, and sometimes to fail and be left on their own. God wants us to know that he keeps us safe through good and ill.
For his soul's sake a man is sometimes left on his own, but his sin is not always the cause. For during this time I did not sin, so why should I have been forsaken, and so suddenly? Also, I did nothing to deserve this feeling of bliss.
But our Lord freely gives what it is his will to give, and sometimes lets us suffer woe - and both are part of one love. For bliss is lasting and pain is passing and shall come to nothing for those that shall be saved.
And therefore it is not God's will that we should linger over pain, but that we should pass quickly through it to joy without end.
I believe Lady Julian was right. I love her words "it is necessary" (in the original, "speedful") for some souls to feel alternating comfort and desolation. They remind me of Jesus' "it is proper" when John asked him why in the world he wanted to get baptized (Matthew 3:15). It was just the way it had to be. God's best purposes could not be fulfilled otherwise. Some people must suffer emotional woe - not so that they might live in that state permanently, or deliberately milk sympathy from others, or develop perverse pleasure in their own melancholy - but so that (among other things) they might pass through that sorrow to even greater joy in the presence of God.
There is also a place for the frenzied activity of the elated manic. Josh MacDowell wrote his influential bestseller "More Than A Carpenter" in a single sitting in 48 hours. That's something no balanced midpolar person could ever do. And certain elements of St. Paul's life sometimes suggest to me a manic-depressive who never went depressive.
Do not misunderstand me. I am not against mood-flattening drugs for those who need them. In some cases they are as necessary to sustain life as insulin is for a diabetic. I am just saying that there is a place in the will and providence of God for both despairing sorrow and lively exaltation. A friend of mine, who was medicated for a while, said, wisely, "I think I'd rather feel sad than feel nothing." C. S. Lewis would have agreed. In The Pilgrim's Regress, an angel explains to Pilgrim John that the unfulfilled longings of those who fall short of God's glory are not exactly a punishment, because "any liberal man would choose the pain of this desire, even for ever, rather than the peace of feeling it no longer: and that though the best thing is to have, the next best is to want, and the worst of all is not to want." John replies, "I see that. Even the wanting, though it is a pain too, is more precious than anything else we experience."
God bless all you bipolars, who don't quite have the brain that you want. Keep trusting Jesus Christ, and someday you will see fulfilled the lovely words of assurance given to Julian of Norwich: "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
October 5, 2010: A Small Comfort
Can I offer a small word of encouragement to you who lament that some part of your life is unfulfilling?
It is a small encouragement, I admit, not earth-shaking - but at least I think it is helping me this morning. It is simply this: your disappointments and sorrows may keep you from saying things that come across as arrogant, clueless, or unsympathetic.
Last night, for minimum wage, I paced the mattress department alone at Sears for four hours. No customer came. The shift did not begin well - my poor wife called to say she had locked her keys in the car in Cicero (I've done that at least four times myself - once with the car running!),and I was unable to go help her.
She got a service to jimmy the lock for $35 and arrived home late, and tired. We texted back and forth. I said my good news was that I hadn't experienced any challenges at Sears that I couldn't handle. She asked if that meant it was dead, and I said yes, but I was trying to put a positive spin on it. She wondered if working in mattresses at Sears could be an act of worship, and I said, "Yes, a very languid-paced, Puritan-style worship."
The single mom who trained me at Sears struggles to pay her last month's rent. Her wages are garnished, and her old shoes are falling off her feet. She worries about leaving her 8-year-old son to a babysitter who is recovering from heroin addiction. She also worries about the hours her son spends in the car with her drunk ex-husband on weekends.
That's all background. This morning I listened to a sermon by Mark Driscoll, and it was pretty good. But he sure made me wince when he mentioned that he owned 40 pairs of shoes, which, he said, were a lot fewer than his wife owned. (The odd thing is, he didn't say it in a spirit of self-condemnation, like, "What's the matter with me? I'm turning into Imelda Marcos!" - but was simply explaining that he had to spend a lot to make himself look good for his wife.) He spoke contemptuously of cheap wine: he will only drink the more expensive stuff. And he gets his hair cut every 2 weeks. (This last point made me think about how I stretch meager resources by spacing long intervals between haircuts. As I hand a coupon to a stylist at a national chain, I say, "Please cut my long hair very short so I don't have to come back here for 6 months.")
When poor people listen to Driscoll, do they say in their hearts, "Oh, blow it out your ear, you indulgent rich punk"? I don't know. I do know that a struggling single mom who owns one pair of bad shoes is unlikely to be much inspired by a man who commends himself for owning 40.
That is why I say that your current sorrows and lamentable experiences, whatever they are, may perform the good service of keeping you from saying stupid things, unintentionally hurtful things. When I was 24 I said aloud, in a mixed a group of missionaries and missionary-trainees, that I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life in North America. A wise older missionary simply asked me if I had ever actually lived overseas, and I said no. Later, when I arrived home after four and a half years in the (mostly hot and unpleasant) Third World, I was so grateful to be back in the wonderful U S of A that I felt like kissing the ground. Boy was I an arrogant jerk at 24. I just didn't know what life was like.
You are sick, perhaps? You have a bad spouse? Your house is facing foreclosure? Your children are no good? Salvage this small (I said it was small!) comfort: God has put a lock on your tongue that renders you incapable of uttering clueless inanities that only pour out of the mouths of people who haven't suffered much. He has equipped you with sympathies that you, being human, could learn no other way. Maybe someday you will use what you have learned to comfort the afflicted. In the meantime, at least you'll be kept from saying the kinds of things that make them wince.
Can I offer a small word of encouragement to you who lament that some part of your life is unfulfilling?
It is a small encouragement, I admit, not earth-shaking - but at least I think it is helping me this morning. It is simply this: your disappointments and sorrows may keep you from saying things that come across as arrogant, clueless, or unsympathetic.
Last night, for minimum wage, I paced the mattress department alone at Sears for four hours. No customer came. The shift did not begin well - my poor wife called to say she had locked her keys in the car in Cicero (I've done that at least four times myself - once with the car running!),and I was unable to go help her.
She got a service to jimmy the lock for $35 and arrived home late, and tired. We texted back and forth. I said my good news was that I hadn't experienced any challenges at Sears that I couldn't handle. She asked if that meant it was dead, and I said yes, but I was trying to put a positive spin on it. She wondered if working in mattresses at Sears could be an act of worship, and I said, "Yes, a very languid-paced, Puritan-style worship."
The single mom who trained me at Sears struggles to pay her last month's rent. Her wages are garnished, and her old shoes are falling off her feet. She worries about leaving her 8-year-old son to a babysitter who is recovering from heroin addiction. She also worries about the hours her son spends in the car with her drunk ex-husband on weekends.
That's all background. This morning I listened to a sermon by Mark Driscoll, and it was pretty good. But he sure made me wince when he mentioned that he owned 40 pairs of shoes, which, he said, were a lot fewer than his wife owned. (The odd thing is, he didn't say it in a spirit of self-condemnation, like, "What's the matter with me? I'm turning into Imelda Marcos!" - but was simply explaining that he had to spend a lot to make himself look good for his wife.) He spoke contemptuously of cheap wine: he will only drink the more expensive stuff. And he gets his hair cut every 2 weeks. (This last point made me think about how I stretch meager resources by spacing long intervals between haircuts. As I hand a coupon to a stylist at a national chain, I say, "Please cut my long hair very short so I don't have to come back here for 6 months.")
When poor people listen to Driscoll, do they say in their hearts, "Oh, blow it out your ear, you indulgent rich punk"? I don't know. I do know that a struggling single mom who owns one pair of bad shoes is unlikely to be much inspired by a man who commends himself for owning 40.
That is why I say that your current sorrows and lamentable experiences, whatever they are, may perform the good service of keeping you from saying stupid things, unintentionally hurtful things. When I was 24 I said aloud, in a mixed a group of missionaries and missionary-trainees, that I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life in North America. A wise older missionary simply asked me if I had ever actually lived overseas, and I said no. Later, when I arrived home after four and a half years in the (mostly hot and unpleasant) Third World, I was so grateful to be back in the wonderful U S of A that I felt like kissing the ground. Boy was I an arrogant jerk at 24. I just didn't know what life was like.
You are sick, perhaps? You have a bad spouse? Your house is facing foreclosure? Your children are no good? Salvage this small (I said it was small!) comfort: God has put a lock on your tongue that renders you incapable of uttering clueless inanities that only pour out of the mouths of people who haven't suffered much. He has equipped you with sympathies that you, being human, could learn no other way. Maybe someday you will use what you have learned to comfort the afflicted. In the meantime, at least you'll be kept from saying the kinds of things that make them wince.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
September 28, 2010: Remembering Your Sin
My lovely wife asked me how I would respond to the following post from "Paige" in the True Woman blog:
What's wrong when I've confessed my sin(s) to God and asked for forgiveness over and over but still have that nagging feeling that I still need to ask for forgiveness? I have prayed and prayed about this situation and I just can't seem to get past it. Sure, I am active in my church, I read my Bible daily, and I try to make the most of every day and give God the glory. Is this Satan attacking me or is this the Holy Spirit telling me I need to do more?
It's all so confusing to me. It was the worst thing I have ever done in my life and it happened 2 years ago. I just can't seem to "feel" like I have been forgiven. How do I allow this confessed sin to get out of my heart and mind. I am truly sorry for what I did and have completely distanced myself from the one I fell into sin with. What more can I do besides pray about it.
I want a clean slate with God. I want to "feel" like I have been forgiven so I can get completely past what I did.
My response:
God bless you for feeling guilt! Jesus said, "Blessed are they that mourn" (Matthew 5:4), not, "Blessed are they that feel good about themselves." The wretched sinners of Romans 1:18-32 don't feel bad at all about their behavior, past or present - but that is because they have been handed over to it. Saints, however, feel perpetually bad about their sin and perpetually good about Christ. Thus it was and ever will be.
You say that you want to "get completely past" what you did. Don't. Don't ever get past what you did. I mean, yes, get past it in the sense that you don't go back to committing it, but don't get past it in the sense that it ceases to be a horror for you. If you do, you will be tempted to forget how merciful God was to you, how kind he was to an undeserving wretch. If you forget your sin, you will be proud. If you forget your sin, you will give God less glory.
St. Paul never got past his sins. Read 1 Timothy 1:12-17, and see how his vivid recollection of former wickedness (30 years earlier!) caused him to celebrate God's goodness and glory in the present:
12. I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me faithful, appointing me to his service. 13. Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. 14. The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. 15. Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. 16. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life. 17. Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen.
The biblical way to think is, "I'm a terrible sinner. Glory to God for his willingness to stoop so low to me."
I'm afraid that a completely opposite mindset is recommended in some Christian circles. For example, in Battlefield Of The Mind, servant of mammon Joyce Meyer writes,
Don't think about how terrible you were before you came to Christ. Instead, think about how you have been made the righteousness of God in Him. Remember: thoughts turn into actions. If you ever want to behave any better, you have to change your thinking first. Keep thinking about how terrible you are, and you will only act worse. Every time a negative, condemning thought comes into your mind, remind yourself that God loves you, that you have been made the righteousness of God in Christ.
There is one statement in Meyer's Bible-hating counsel above that I agree with: thoughts do indeed turn into actions. But the thoughts she recommends are completely wrong! Her counsel "Keep thinking about how terrible you are, and you will only act worse" is ridiculous. St. Paul thought he was the worst of sinners - but he became more and more perfected in the image of Christ. The tax collector in Luke 18:13-14 thought he was so terrible he didn't deserve to go to church - but he went home justified. The thief on the cross next to Jesus in Luke 23:39-43 thought he deserved execution by torture - but he went to be with the Lord.
Jesus himself commanded us to contemplate our badness. Luke 17:10: "So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.'" If we are unworthy servants when we have done our duty, how much more despicable are we when we have disobeyed!
Paige, I'd advise you to let go of your goal of feeling forgiven, and just focus on the goal of doing right and pleasing Christ. It is possible you will keep feeling guilty and awful for a long time. It is also possible you will find yourself saying, "God, I'm sorry, I'm really really sorry!" much longer than you expected. That is not necessarily a bad thing. After David sinned with Bathsheba, he prayed, "Let me hear joy and gladness," and "Restore to me the joy of your salvation" (Psalm 51:8,12) - but maybe the Lord had a good reason for letting him stew in his remorse for a while. A long while.
Paige, did you know that the world's most guilty conscience produced the world's greatest hymn? I keep in my files a quote from Professor Mark McMinn about the ex slave-trading murderer John Newton: "As Newton's eyes opened more fully with each passing year, he became horrified at his sin. One of his friends later recalled that he never spent 30 minutes with Newton without hearing the former captain's remorse for trading slaves. It was always on his mind, nagging his conscience while reminding him of his utter dependence on God's forgiving grace."
Newton of course was the sinner who wrote,
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now am found
Was blind, but now I see.
My lovely wife asked me how I would respond to the following post from "Paige" in the True Woman blog:
What's wrong when I've confessed my sin(s) to God and asked for forgiveness over and over but still have that nagging feeling that I still need to ask for forgiveness? I have prayed and prayed about this situation and I just can't seem to get past it. Sure, I am active in my church, I read my Bible daily, and I try to make the most of every day and give God the glory. Is this Satan attacking me or is this the Holy Spirit telling me I need to do more?
It's all so confusing to me. It was the worst thing I have ever done in my life and it happened 2 years ago. I just can't seem to "feel" like I have been forgiven. How do I allow this confessed sin to get out of my heart and mind. I am truly sorry for what I did and have completely distanced myself from the one I fell into sin with. What more can I do besides pray about it.
I want a clean slate with God. I want to "feel" like I have been forgiven so I can get completely past what I did.
My response:
God bless you for feeling guilt! Jesus said, "Blessed are they that mourn" (Matthew 5:4), not, "Blessed are they that feel good about themselves." The wretched sinners of Romans 1:18-32 don't feel bad at all about their behavior, past or present - but that is because they have been handed over to it. Saints, however, feel perpetually bad about their sin and perpetually good about Christ. Thus it was and ever will be.
You say that you want to "get completely past" what you did. Don't. Don't ever get past what you did. I mean, yes, get past it in the sense that you don't go back to committing it, but don't get past it in the sense that it ceases to be a horror for you. If you do, you will be tempted to forget how merciful God was to you, how kind he was to an undeserving wretch. If you forget your sin, you will be proud. If you forget your sin, you will give God less glory.
St. Paul never got past his sins. Read 1 Timothy 1:12-17, and see how his vivid recollection of former wickedness (30 years earlier!) caused him to celebrate God's goodness and glory in the present:
12. I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me faithful, appointing me to his service. 13. Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. 14. The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. 15. Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. 16. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life. 17. Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen.
The biblical way to think is, "I'm a terrible sinner. Glory to God for his willingness to stoop so low to me."
I'm afraid that a completely opposite mindset is recommended in some Christian circles. For example, in Battlefield Of The Mind, servant of mammon Joyce Meyer writes,
Don't think about how terrible you were before you came to Christ. Instead, think about how you have been made the righteousness of God in Him. Remember: thoughts turn into actions. If you ever want to behave any better, you have to change your thinking first. Keep thinking about how terrible you are, and you will only act worse. Every time a negative, condemning thought comes into your mind, remind yourself that God loves you, that you have been made the righteousness of God in Christ.
There is one statement in Meyer's Bible-hating counsel above that I agree with: thoughts do indeed turn into actions. But the thoughts she recommends are completely wrong! Her counsel "Keep thinking about how terrible you are, and you will only act worse" is ridiculous. St. Paul thought he was the worst of sinners - but he became more and more perfected in the image of Christ. The tax collector in Luke 18:13-14 thought he was so terrible he didn't deserve to go to church - but he went home justified. The thief on the cross next to Jesus in Luke 23:39-43 thought he deserved execution by torture - but he went to be with the Lord.
Jesus himself commanded us to contemplate our badness. Luke 17:10: "So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.'" If we are unworthy servants when we have done our duty, how much more despicable are we when we have disobeyed!
Paige, I'd advise you to let go of your goal of feeling forgiven, and just focus on the goal of doing right and pleasing Christ. It is possible you will keep feeling guilty and awful for a long time. It is also possible you will find yourself saying, "God, I'm sorry, I'm really really sorry!" much longer than you expected. That is not necessarily a bad thing. After David sinned with Bathsheba, he prayed, "Let me hear joy and gladness," and "Restore to me the joy of your salvation" (Psalm 51:8,12) - but maybe the Lord had a good reason for letting him stew in his remorse for a while. A long while.
Paige, did you know that the world's most guilty conscience produced the world's greatest hymn? I keep in my files a quote from Professor Mark McMinn about the ex slave-trading murderer John Newton: "As Newton's eyes opened more fully with each passing year, he became horrified at his sin. One of his friends later recalled that he never spent 30 minutes with Newton without hearing the former captain's remorse for trading slaves. It was always on his mind, nagging his conscience while reminding him of his utter dependence on God's forgiving grace."
Newton of course was the sinner who wrote,
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now am found
Was blind, but now I see.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
September 17, 2010: Perseverance Of The Christian And The Analogy Of Marriage
Continuing the question from last week:
Your analogy of marriage seemed to me to indicate that we should not expect Christ to remain married to us if we are unfaithful to him, and yet aren't we often unfaithful to him when other things become more important to us than God?
No. I would not normally use the word "unfaithful" to describe the kind of lapses I think you are referring to.
If we say that a man has been unfaithful to his wife, we don't mean that he spent too much money on golf clubs, or that he has said something a little insensitive, or that he was watching football when he should have been leading family devotions. We mean something more serious - we mean he has been cheating, he has been sleeping with someone else. Similarly, when we say that a man is a faithful husband, we don't mean that he is perfect - who is? - but just that he is loyal and true.
That is the way the Bible itself (with few exceptions) uses the words that we translate "faithful" or "unfaithful." Faithfulness in the Bible does not imply sinless perfection, but loyalty. Here is a short list of men - all sinners! - whom the Bible calls faithful to God.
Abraham. "You found his heart [Abraham's] faithful to you, and you made a covenant with him to give to his descendants the land of the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Jebusites and Girgashites. You have kept your promise because you are righteous." (Nehemiah 9:8)
Moses. "But this is not true of my servant Moses; he is faithful in all my house." (Numbers 12:7; see Hebrews 3:2,5)
Samuel. "I will raise up for myself a faithful priest [Samuel], who will do according to what is in my heart and mind." (1 Samuel 2:35)
David. "Solomon answered, 'You have shown great kindness to your servant, my father David, because he was faithful to you and righteous and upright in heart.'" (1 Kings 3:6)
Hezekiah. "This is what Hezekiah did throughout Judah, doing what was good and right and faithful before the Lord his God." (2 Chronicles 31:20)
So the Bible regularly calls people "faithful" even though they're not perfect.
Unfaithfulness in Scripture is usually a matter of having a "sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God." (Hebrews 3:12). The writer of Hebrews assigns such unfaithfulness not to godly-but-imperfect men like Abraham, Moses, Samuel, David and Hezekiah, but to Israelite rebels and idolators who defied God. In the verses just before Hebrews 3:12 the writer says (quoting God), "That is why I was angry with that generation, and I said, 'Their hearts are always going astray, and they have not known my ways.' So I declared on oath in my anger, 'They shall never enter my rest.'" Just as bad Israelites did not enter God's rest, so people with "sinful unbelieving hearts" (elsewhere these people are called "the wicked") will not enter God's kingdom. The Bible affirms this many times. I believe that these are the people to whom it would be best to apply the word "unfaithful". Below are four descriptions of them and their destiny:
1 Corinthians 6:9-10: Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.
Galatians 5:19-21: The acts of the sinful nature are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.
Ephesians 5:5-6: For of this you can be sure: No immoral, impure or greedy person—such a man is an idolater—has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God. Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of such things God's wrath comes on those who are disobedient.
Revelation 21:8: But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and all liars—their place will be in the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death.
The person who wrote to me asking "aren't we often unfaithful to [God]?" is certainly not a greedy lying adulterous drunk, so she has nothing to fear from these passages. But truly rebellious sinners should read them and fear. As the Psalmist says to God, "Those who are far from you will perish; you destroy all who are unfaithful to you."(Psalm 73:27).
Now, would Christ "divorce" someone who is unfaithful to him in the sense outlined above?
Interestingly enough, divorce is in fact one of the symbols God uses to illustrate what he does to unfaithful people. See Jeremiah 3:8: "I gave faithless Israel her certificate of divorce and sent her away because of all her adulteries." See also Isaiah 50:1: "This is what the Lord says: 'Where is your mother's certificate of divorce with which I sent her away? Or to which of my creditors did I sell you? Because of your sins you were sold; because of your transgressions your mother was sent away.'"
I think that "divorce" is actually an appropriate, stunning, robust, and most important, biblical image to keep in mind concerning what the Lord does to those who are unfaithful to him. Persevering saints, of course, don't have to worry about that. 2 Timothy 2:12 says "If we endure, we will also reign with him" - not "be divorced by him." And Colossians 1:22-23 says, "But now he has reconciled you by Christ's physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation — if you continue in your faith, established and firm, not moved from the hope held out in the gospel." As I like to say, the "if" in those verses must be permitted to stand as written and not twisted by bad theology into "whether or not". We must endure. We must continue in our faith. We must be faithful. Faithfulness is not an option, but a biblical condition for blessedness in the presence of God. Someday Jesus will say to those who persevered, "Well done, good and faithful servant." (Matthew 25:21).
A final thought:
If a man proves unfaithful and God "divorces" him, does that mean that God himself has been unfaithful?
NO! No no no! A thousand times no! The Bible emphasizes that our sin never causes God to sin. For example, if we lie, even if every man on earth is a liar, God is still true. See Romans 3:4: "Let God be true, and every man a liar." If we are unjust toward God, he is never unjust toward us. And regarding faithfulness, "If we are faithless, he will remain faithful, for he cannot disown himself" (2 Timothy 2:13). That is, even if we are sneaky and underhanded and treat God like dirt, he cannot do the same to us. It is not in his nature. (Some interpret 2 Timothy 2:13 instead to mean that God will save apostates - but that interpretation is flatly contradicted by the verse before it: "If we disown him, he will also disown us." Apostates get disowned.)
Here is one way to look at it. Imagine a married man who sleeps around but defends himself by saying: "She cheated on me first! I'm only doing to her what she did to me!" I think we can say that though he is not as bad as a man who cheats on a faithful wife, he's still an adulterer. He is doing something that God would never do: letting another's unfaithfulness goad him into unfaithfulness.
Now imagine another man who has slept with only one woman in his entire life - his wife. (Let's go further and say that he has never kissed or held hands with anyone else either.) But his wife withdraws from him, treats him contemptuously, secretly joins a lesbian group and begins a series of relationships with other women. She leaves him and files for divorce against his will. Despite her behavior he remains faithful to her, refuses to cheat on her, tells her that she can stop the divorce proceedings, return to him, and he will surely take her back.
If she insists on renouncing him even then, the divorce will go through and the relationship will be broken irretrievably. But she has been the unfaithful one, not he. If we are ever similarly "divorced" from God, it will be all our doing, not his. We will not be sent away because of the sins that grieve us and for which we seek pardon, but for the kind of willful rebellion that wants nothing to do with God.
Continuing the question from last week:
Your analogy of marriage seemed to me to indicate that we should not expect Christ to remain married to us if we are unfaithful to him, and yet aren't we often unfaithful to him when other things become more important to us than God?
No. I would not normally use the word "unfaithful" to describe the kind of lapses I think you are referring to.
If we say that a man has been unfaithful to his wife, we don't mean that he spent too much money on golf clubs, or that he has said something a little insensitive, or that he was watching football when he should have been leading family devotions. We mean something more serious - we mean he has been cheating, he has been sleeping with someone else. Similarly, when we say that a man is a faithful husband, we don't mean that he is perfect - who is? - but just that he is loyal and true.
That is the way the Bible itself (with few exceptions) uses the words that we translate "faithful" or "unfaithful." Faithfulness in the Bible does not imply sinless perfection, but loyalty. Here is a short list of men - all sinners! - whom the Bible calls faithful to God.
Abraham. "You found his heart [Abraham's] faithful to you, and you made a covenant with him to give to his descendants the land of the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Jebusites and Girgashites. You have kept your promise because you are righteous." (Nehemiah 9:8)
Moses. "But this is not true of my servant Moses; he is faithful in all my house." (Numbers 12:7; see Hebrews 3:2,5)
Samuel. "I will raise up for myself a faithful priest [Samuel], who will do according to what is in my heart and mind." (1 Samuel 2:35)
David. "Solomon answered, 'You have shown great kindness to your servant, my father David, because he was faithful to you and righteous and upright in heart.'" (1 Kings 3:6)
Hezekiah. "This is what Hezekiah did throughout Judah, doing what was good and right and faithful before the Lord his God." (2 Chronicles 31:20)
So the Bible regularly calls people "faithful" even though they're not perfect.
Unfaithfulness in Scripture is usually a matter of having a "sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God." (Hebrews 3:12). The writer of Hebrews assigns such unfaithfulness not to godly-but-imperfect men like Abraham, Moses, Samuel, David and Hezekiah, but to Israelite rebels and idolators who defied God. In the verses just before Hebrews 3:12 the writer says (quoting God), "That is why I was angry with that generation, and I said, 'Their hearts are always going astray, and they have not known my ways.' So I declared on oath in my anger, 'They shall never enter my rest.'" Just as bad Israelites did not enter God's rest, so people with "sinful unbelieving hearts" (elsewhere these people are called "the wicked") will not enter God's kingdom. The Bible affirms this many times. I believe that these are the people to whom it would be best to apply the word "unfaithful". Below are four descriptions of them and their destiny:
1 Corinthians 6:9-10: Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.
Galatians 5:19-21: The acts of the sinful nature are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.
Ephesians 5:5-6: For of this you can be sure: No immoral, impure or greedy person—such a man is an idolater—has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God. Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of such things God's wrath comes on those who are disobedient.
Revelation 21:8: But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and all liars—their place will be in the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death.
The person who wrote to me asking "aren't we often unfaithful to [God]?" is certainly not a greedy lying adulterous drunk, so she has nothing to fear from these passages. But truly rebellious sinners should read them and fear. As the Psalmist says to God, "Those who are far from you will perish; you destroy all who are unfaithful to you."(Psalm 73:27).
Now, would Christ "divorce" someone who is unfaithful to him in the sense outlined above?
Interestingly enough, divorce is in fact one of the symbols God uses to illustrate what he does to unfaithful people. See Jeremiah 3:8: "I gave faithless Israel her certificate of divorce and sent her away because of all her adulteries." See also Isaiah 50:1: "This is what the Lord says: 'Where is your mother's certificate of divorce with which I sent her away? Or to which of my creditors did I sell you? Because of your sins you were sold; because of your transgressions your mother was sent away.'"
I think that "divorce" is actually an appropriate, stunning, robust, and most important, biblical image to keep in mind concerning what the Lord does to those who are unfaithful to him. Persevering saints, of course, don't have to worry about that. 2 Timothy 2:12 says "If we endure, we will also reign with him" - not "be divorced by him." And Colossians 1:22-23 says, "But now he has reconciled you by Christ's physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation — if you continue in your faith, established and firm, not moved from the hope held out in the gospel." As I like to say, the "if" in those verses must be permitted to stand as written and not twisted by bad theology into "whether or not". We must endure. We must continue in our faith. We must be faithful. Faithfulness is not an option, but a biblical condition for blessedness in the presence of God. Someday Jesus will say to those who persevered, "Well done, good and faithful servant." (Matthew 25:21).
A final thought:
If a man proves unfaithful and God "divorces" him, does that mean that God himself has been unfaithful?
NO! No no no! A thousand times no! The Bible emphasizes that our sin never causes God to sin. For example, if we lie, even if every man on earth is a liar, God is still true. See Romans 3:4: "Let God be true, and every man a liar." If we are unjust toward God, he is never unjust toward us. And regarding faithfulness, "If we are faithless, he will remain faithful, for he cannot disown himself" (2 Timothy 2:13). That is, even if we are sneaky and underhanded and treat God like dirt, he cannot do the same to us. It is not in his nature. (Some interpret 2 Timothy 2:13 instead to mean that God will save apostates - but that interpretation is flatly contradicted by the verse before it: "If we disown him, he will also disown us." Apostates get disowned.)
Here is one way to look at it. Imagine a married man who sleeps around but defends himself by saying: "She cheated on me first! I'm only doing to her what she did to me!" I think we can say that though he is not as bad as a man who cheats on a faithful wife, he's still an adulterer. He is doing something that God would never do: letting another's unfaithfulness goad him into unfaithfulness.
Now imagine another man who has slept with only one woman in his entire life - his wife. (Let's go further and say that he has never kissed or held hands with anyone else either.) But his wife withdraws from him, treats him contemptuously, secretly joins a lesbian group and begins a series of relationships with other women. She leaves him and files for divorce against his will. Despite her behavior he remains faithful to her, refuses to cheat on her, tells her that she can stop the divorce proceedings, return to him, and he will surely take her back.
If she insists on renouncing him even then, the divorce will go through and the relationship will be broken irretrievably. But she has been the unfaithful one, not he. If we are ever similarly "divorced" from God, it will be all our doing, not his. We will not be sent away because of the sins that grieve us and for which we seek pardon, but for the kind of willful rebellion that wants nothing to do with God.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
September 14, 2010: Questions On Perseverance
I received the following response to last week's post:
Your post mentioned the parable of the sower and the seed that was sown on rocky soil and the seed on good soil. Can you address the seed that fell among the thorns which choked the plant? Are they saints clothed with Christ's righteousness? Have they persevered in their trust in Christ though they live in sin and perhaps have no outward evidence of fruit? Are they repentant, are they trying? Your analogy of marriage seemed to me to indicate that we should not expect Christ to remain married to us if we are unfaithful to him, and yet aren't we often unfaithful to him when other things become more important to us than God?
My answers to each question:
Can you address the seed that fell among thorns which choked the plant?
Jesus said, "The seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by life's worries, riches and pleasures, and they do not mature" (Luke 8:14). I believe this picture represents people who ultimately love sin more than they love Christ. In contrast with the seed that fell on rocky soil, they do not fall away from the faith because of external pressure - the heat of persecution - but because of internal pressure - the lure of corruption. Like Demas, who deserted Paul "because he loved this world" (2 Timothy 4:10), they choose to conform to the world and to their own desires rather than to Christ.
Are they saints clothed with Christ's righteousness?
No. They don't want to be clothed with his righteousness. They find it an ill-fitting garment and cast it off.
In the parable of the seeds Jesus is contrasting those who stay with him and those who don't. The sheep who hear his voice follow him and abide (remain, stay) with him. Those who don't remain with him are of several types. Some don't even get started in the first place - the seed on the path that fails to germinate and is eaten by birds. Others leave because of persecution. Others leave to follow a life of sin.
Jesus never said, "Whoever would come after me may revert to his sinful lifestyle." Instead, he demanded a self-denial so strong that he compared it to carrying a cross to your own execution (Luke 9:23). When he showed mercy to the woman caught in adultery he did not say, "You may now go back to your whoring," but "Leave your life of sin" (John 8:11). When he healed the lame man at Bethesda he did not say, "Even if you keep sinning, you'll still be ok," but rather "Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you" (John 5:14). When a rich man wanted to follow Jesus while hanging on to his greed, Jesus turned him away (Matthew 19:22).
Have they persevered in their trust in Christ though they live in sin and perhaps have no outward evidence of fruit?
No outward evidence of fruit? When Jesus came across a fruitless tree, he cursed it! (Matthew 21:19). That was supposed to be a warning.
When a person lives in sin and gives no outward evidence of fruit, he has in effect denied the faith. Paul confirms this in Titus 1:15-16 when he speaks of those who "claim to know God, but by their actions they deny him." I believe it is very common to deny God with one's actions. Paul gives an example of such behavior in 1 Timothy 5:8: a man who refuses to provide for his family "has denied the faith, and is worse than an unbeliever." Such a man does not actually say "I reject Jesus Christ." He doesn't have to - his behavior does that for him. Words can lie; actions can't. That is why Jesus said, "By their fruit (not by their words) you shall know them" (Matthew 7:16).
Anyone who says "I know God, I've accepted Jesus," while his behavior proves he is "detestable, disobedient and unfit for doing anything good" (Titus 1:16) is simply lying about his faith. Jesus insisted that those who merely call him "Lord" but don't do the will of God will not get into the kingdom of heaven: "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven" (Matthew 7:21).
James concurs regarding the fate of those who "have no outward evidence of fruit." James 2:14: "What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him?" No. The answer to that rhetorical question is no. Faith without works is dead (James 2:17), and dead faith cannot save.
Are they repentant, are they trying?
Well, if they are repentant and trying, I believe that God will certainly show them grace. "A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise" (Psalm 51:17). No man is so good that he does not need to be in a constant state of bemoaning his sin and repenting of it. The good news is that "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9).
I think it is important though to distinguish between those who are "repentant and trying" and those who are "unrepentant and not trying at all." In my own pastoral ministry, for example, I have been happy to extend words of grace to those who have fallen into sexual sin and who seek the Lord's pardon and restoration. But those who refuse God's transforming grace will not receive it. I have written to two unrepentant (and formerly Christian) adulterers who were both dumping faithful wives in order to pursue sin, "It is important for you to understand that you are going to hell. If you died tonight, you would hear from Jesus the awful words, 'Depart from me. I never knew you.'" (See Matthew 7:23). To this day these men remain impenitent, and I fear their time is running out. I do not say (and would never say) that they are without hope. I do say, however, that they are not now in a state of grace.
Your analogy of marriage seemed to me to indicate that we should not expect Christ to remain married to us if we are unfaithful to him, and yet aren't we often unfaithful to him when other things become more important to us than God?
It all depends on what you mean by "unfaithful." That is a big enough topic to require a separate Pastor's Page, and Lord willing I'll deal with that next week.
I received the following response to last week's post:
Your post mentioned the parable of the sower and the seed that was sown on rocky soil and the seed on good soil. Can you address the seed that fell among the thorns which choked the plant? Are they saints clothed with Christ's righteousness? Have they persevered in their trust in Christ though they live in sin and perhaps have no outward evidence of fruit? Are they repentant, are they trying? Your analogy of marriage seemed to me to indicate that we should not expect Christ to remain married to us if we are unfaithful to him, and yet aren't we often unfaithful to him when other things become more important to us than God?
My answers to each question:
Can you address the seed that fell among thorns which choked the plant?
Jesus said, "The seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by life's worries, riches and pleasures, and they do not mature" (Luke 8:14). I believe this picture represents people who ultimately love sin more than they love Christ. In contrast with the seed that fell on rocky soil, they do not fall away from the faith because of external pressure - the heat of persecution - but because of internal pressure - the lure of corruption. Like Demas, who deserted Paul "because he loved this world" (2 Timothy 4:10), they choose to conform to the world and to their own desires rather than to Christ.
Are they saints clothed with Christ's righteousness?
No. They don't want to be clothed with his righteousness. They find it an ill-fitting garment and cast it off.
In the parable of the seeds Jesus is contrasting those who stay with him and those who don't. The sheep who hear his voice follow him and abide (remain, stay) with him. Those who don't remain with him are of several types. Some don't even get started in the first place - the seed on the path that fails to germinate and is eaten by birds. Others leave because of persecution. Others leave to follow a life of sin.
Jesus never said, "Whoever would come after me may revert to his sinful lifestyle." Instead, he demanded a self-denial so strong that he compared it to carrying a cross to your own execution (Luke 9:23). When he showed mercy to the woman caught in adultery he did not say, "You may now go back to your whoring," but "Leave your life of sin" (John 8:11). When he healed the lame man at Bethesda he did not say, "Even if you keep sinning, you'll still be ok," but rather "Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you" (John 5:14). When a rich man wanted to follow Jesus while hanging on to his greed, Jesus turned him away (Matthew 19:22).
Have they persevered in their trust in Christ though they live in sin and perhaps have no outward evidence of fruit?
No outward evidence of fruit? When Jesus came across a fruitless tree, he cursed it! (Matthew 21:19). That was supposed to be a warning.
When a person lives in sin and gives no outward evidence of fruit, he has in effect denied the faith. Paul confirms this in Titus 1:15-16 when he speaks of those who "claim to know God, but by their actions they deny him." I believe it is very common to deny God with one's actions. Paul gives an example of such behavior in 1 Timothy 5:8: a man who refuses to provide for his family "has denied the faith, and is worse than an unbeliever." Such a man does not actually say "I reject Jesus Christ." He doesn't have to - his behavior does that for him. Words can lie; actions can't. That is why Jesus said, "By their fruit (not by their words) you shall know them" (Matthew 7:16).
Anyone who says "I know God, I've accepted Jesus," while his behavior proves he is "detestable, disobedient and unfit for doing anything good" (Titus 1:16) is simply lying about his faith. Jesus insisted that those who merely call him "Lord" but don't do the will of God will not get into the kingdom of heaven: "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven" (Matthew 7:21).
James concurs regarding the fate of those who "have no outward evidence of fruit." James 2:14: "What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him?" No. The answer to that rhetorical question is no. Faith without works is dead (James 2:17), and dead faith cannot save.
Are they repentant, are they trying?
Well, if they are repentant and trying, I believe that God will certainly show them grace. "A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise" (Psalm 51:17). No man is so good that he does not need to be in a constant state of bemoaning his sin and repenting of it. The good news is that "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9).
I think it is important though to distinguish between those who are "repentant and trying" and those who are "unrepentant and not trying at all." In my own pastoral ministry, for example, I have been happy to extend words of grace to those who have fallen into sexual sin and who seek the Lord's pardon and restoration. But those who refuse God's transforming grace will not receive it. I have written to two unrepentant (and formerly Christian) adulterers who were both dumping faithful wives in order to pursue sin, "It is important for you to understand that you are going to hell. If you died tonight, you would hear from Jesus the awful words, 'Depart from me. I never knew you.'" (See Matthew 7:23). To this day these men remain impenitent, and I fear their time is running out. I do not say (and would never say) that they are without hope. I do say, however, that they are not now in a state of grace.
Your analogy of marriage seemed to me to indicate that we should not expect Christ to remain married to us if we are unfaithful to him, and yet aren't we often unfaithful to him when other things become more important to us than God?
It all depends on what you mean by "unfaithful." That is a big enough topic to require a separate Pastor's Page, and Lord willing I'll deal with that next week.
Monday, September 6, 2010
September 7, 2010: Perseverance Of The Saints
On three occasions in recent weeks I have found myself having to defend the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints against some energetic opposition. It seemed good to me to write out a defense of this doctrine and have it at the ready should the issue come up again.
Who are the saints? They are the holy ones of God who belong to him by faith and whom he has chosen to inherit eternal life. What does it mean that they persevere? It means that they continue, they endure, they persist in Christ all the way to heaven. None of them is lost. They don't "believe for a while but in time of testing turn away" (Luke 8:13); they endure to the end and are saved (Matthew 24:13). Each of them has a regenerated heart, not a "sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God" (Hebrews 3:12). They do not disown Christ, since the Bible promises "if we disown him, he will disown us" (2 Timothy 3:12) - and saints can never be disowned. They abide (remain, stay, live, persist) in Christ; they do not "go out from us," as John explains, "For if they had belonged to us, they would have remained with us; but their going showed that none of them belonged to us" (1 John 2:19). They are eternally secure. No one can pluck them out of the hand of the Father (John 10:29). Nothing can separate them from the love of Christ. (Romans 8:38-39).
The doctrine of the perseverance of the saints tends to be undermined today in one of two ways: (1) by denying that it is even necessary for believers to persevere in their faith, and (2) by applying the assurance of salvation not merely to persevering saints, but to unpersevering unbelievers! (Yes, I have seen that done.)
I was challenged the other day concerning whether I would actually tell a convert that he had to persevere, and the answer is "Of course! Yes!" Heaven forbid that instead of proclaiming perseverance we should say to a young Christian, "Just believe in Jesus for a week or so, then if you go back to your atheism or hedonism or whatever you'll still be ok." What a contemptuous disregard for Christ's admonition to endure to the end!
When I tell my son that he must be faithful to his wife, I am not saying, "Son, make sure you honor your vows for a period of time - a few months, maybe a few years - then you can sleep around." No! I'm telling him to be permanently faithful. Temporary fidelity is infidelity; temporary belief is unbelief. Would we earnestly tell men to persevere in their marriages, but shy away from telling them to persevere in Christ? Would we instruct our children on the meaning of "till death do us part," but neglect to teach our children of faith the meaning of "endure to the end"? Is Christ less worthy of our faithfulness than a spouse? Are we perhaps afraid we'll "lose the converts" if we tell them that Christianity is a life-long commitment? That's worse than fearing our sons won't marry if we tell them they must be faithful to their spouses for the rest of their lives!
The doctrine of perseverance, of course, does not depend on any such analogy. It is grounded in the Scriptures. Here are some of the many Bible verses that support it:
Hebrews 3:14: We have come to share in Christ if we hold firmly till the end the confidence we had at first.
Note the "if" in the verse above. It does not say that we have come to share in Christ whether or not we hold our confidence firmly till end, but if. If a person does not hold firmly to the end, then he has not "come to share in Christ." He is not a saint. Again, all saints persevere.
2 Timothy 2:12: If we endure, we will also reign with him. If we disown him, he will also disown us.
This verse does not promise, "If we fail to endure, we will nonetheless reign with him." Reigning with Christ is conditioned on endurance. Those who do not endure will not reign with him, and those disown him will be disowned by him. That is precisely what Jesus promised in Matthew 10:33: "Whoever disowns me before men, I will disown him before my Father in heaven." It will be pointed out that Peter disowned Christ three times and yet remained a saint. True - but it must also be mentioned that he lied about Christ only when he felt threatened with death by torture, that he felt anguished remorse within seconds, that he repented within days, and that he then persevered in Christ until his own crucifixion many years later. Peter's momentary "disowning" can hardly be compared with willful, public, repeated, consistent, to-the-deathbed disavowal of Christ like that shown by (for example) former Billy Graham colleague Charles Templeton.
Matthew 24:13 He who stands firm to the end will be saved.
Nowhere does the Bible promise salvation for those who do not stand firm to the end. This is not a problem for saints, however, because all of them do stand firm in Christ. Again (how many times do we have to say it?), the saints persevere.
But aren't there people who make a temporary commitment to Christ and then revoke it? Oh yes, there are lots of them, and the Bible talks about them in spades and warns us not to be like them. They are not saints, and we should not label them as such. Here are a few texts that speak of those who do not persevere in the Lord.
Luke 8:13: Those on the rock are the ones who receive the word with joy when they hear it, but they have no root. They believe for a while, but in the time of testing they fall away.
Here Jesus is talking about temporary converts. They "receive the word with joy" and "believe for a while," but fall away when things get hard. I know that some evangelicals teach it is not possible to believe in Christ temporarily, but both the words of Jesus and our most casual observations prove that false. Jesus was right. Some people do in fact "believe for a while." They aren't faking it. Their joy is real. But later they change their minds and renounce the faith they once embraced. They are not saints, of course, because saints persevere. The saints in Jesus' parable of the seeds in Luke 8 are those who continue to grow and produce a crop.
2 Peter 2:20-22: If they have escaped the corruption of the world by knowing our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and are again entangled in it and overcome, they are worse off at the end than they were at the beginning. It would have been better for them not to have known the way of righteousness, than to have known it and then to turn their backs on the sacred command that was passed on to them. Of them the proverbs are true: "A dog returns to its vomit," and, "A sow that is washed goes back to her wallowing in the mud."
Sobering, isn't it? It is a terrible thing to be a temporary Christian. Peter teaches that lapsed followers of Christ are worse off than those who have never known him. It is much better never to know Christ at all than to know him and turn away.
Hebrews 3:12: See to it, brothers, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God.
The writer of Hebrews is addressing people he calls "brothers." He has seen many former brothers turn away to sinful unbelief, and the whole book of Hebrews can be seen as the author's desperate plea to professing Christians that they persevere in the Lord and beware the apostasy that so many others have fallen into. In 2:1 he writes, "We must pay more careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away." What happens to those who drift away is described in 6:4-6 and 10:26-31:
Hebrews 6:4-6: It is impossible for those who have once been enlightened, who have tasted the heavenly gift, who have shared in the Holy Spirit, who have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the coming age, if they fall away, to be brought back to repentance, because to their loss they are crucifying the Son of God all over again and subjecting him to public disgrace.
Hebrews 10:26-31: If we deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth, no sacrifice for sins is left, but only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God. Anyone who rejected the law of Moses died without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses. How much more severely do you think a man deserves to be punished who has trampled the Son of God under foot, who has treated as an unholy thing the blood of the covenant that sanctified him, and who has insulted the Spirit of grace? For we know him who said, "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," and again, "The Lord will judge his people." It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.
In the Bible, we actually have the names of some people who "crucified the Son of God all over again," "trampled [Him] under foot," "treated as an unholy thing the blood of the covenant" after they had once professed faith in Christ. They are Judas, Alexander, Hymenaus, and Philetus. See below:
2 Timothy 2:17-18: Their teaching will spread like gangrene. Among them are Hymenaeus and Philetus, who have wandered away from the truth.
1 Timothy 1:19-20: ...holding on to faith and a good conscience. Some have rejected these and so have shipwrecked their faith. Among them are Hymenaeus and Alexander, whom I have handed over to Satan to be taught not to blaspheme.
2 Timothy 4:14-15: Alexander the metalworker did me a great deal of harm. The Lord will repay him for what he has done. You too should be on your guard against him, because he strongly opposed our message.
Matthew 26:24:
The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man [Judas] who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born."
I have found that those who maintain that such non-persevering apostates (or "temporary believers") are still saved despite their apostasy often appeal to John 10:27-29 and Romans 8:35-39. The passage in John quotes Jesus as saying, "No one can pluck them out of my hand," and Paul in Romans says that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. The full texts are below:
John 10:27-29: My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand.
Romans 8:35-39: Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: "For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered." No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
These texts are a great comfort to all believers. But applying them to apostate unbelievers is abominable! Please note, in John 10, who the people are who cannot be plucked from the hand of Jesus. They are identified in verse 27 as his sheep: "My sheep listen to my voice, and I know them, and they follow me." And they follow me. Repeat that phrase "and they follow me" a hundred times if necessary to get it stuck in your head. The promise is for sheep who follow Christ! It is not for wolves who abandon him. It is not for apostates who drift away and disown him. All sheep who follow Christ can rest assured that they will never be snatched out of his hand.
Romans 8 makes the same point. "Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ." Who are the "us" to whom this comfort is given? The persevering saints of verses 28 to 30:
Romans 8:28-30: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.
The "us" of verses 35 and 39 are the "those who love God" of verse 28. A lover of God, called according to his purpose, foreknown and predestined to be conformed to the image of Christ, can never be separated from his love. To qualify for the "no separation from Christ" promise in verse 35, a person must love God back in verse 28. Apostates, who hate God so much that they "believe for a while" (Luke 8:13) and then "return to their spiritual vomit" (2 Peter 2:22) and "trample the Son of God under foot" (Hebrews 10:29) and "subject him to public disgrace" (Hebrews 6:6) and "shipwreck their faith" (1 Timothy 1:19) are neither sheep who follow Christ nor lovers of God who can avail themselves of the promises in John 10 and Romans 8.
Someone texted me the question, "So does 'perseverance of the saints' doctrine mean that no one should feel eternally secure in their salvation?" I texted back, "Of course not. All those who persevere should feel eternally secure. Those who do not persevere should not feel secure."
Perhaps an analogy will help.
Do you feel secure in your marriage? I hope so. I hope that, if you are married, it is to someone who would never leave you nor forsake you.
Now let me ask you to imagine that you are married to someone who is perfect in every way. This mate would not, could not cheat on you. Unfaithfulness is not in his nature - it is completely unthinkable to him. In addition, he is kind. He is also strong and protective - you know that he would prevent any kidnapper or abuser from coming in and snatching you away. If you get sick he will care for you. If others insult you he will not join in their bullying but speak compassionately to you. If you become poor he will not ditch you; instead, he will be poor with you, and will labor to provide what you need. If you become terminally ill, and die, he will be at your bedside holding your hand. Neither life nor death nor sickness nor poverty nor persecution nor anything like that can separate you from his love.
Would you feel secure in such a marriage? Of course you would. Would you fear that your marriage to such a man would end in divorce? Of course not! You'd have every reason for confidence that your marriage to him would last a lifetime.
However, you would have no grounds for such confidence if you're cheating on him. Chronic adulteresses who treat their loving husbands with contempt have no right to an assurance that their marriages will endure. Wives who trample their husbands under foot may expect a divorce just as surely as sinners who "trample the Son of God under foot" may expect a "raging fire that will consume the enemies of God."
Saints persevere, and rest assured that their union with Christ will last forever in the same way that loving wives rest confident that their good husbands will be with them until parted by death. Apostates and adulteresses, however, have no such assurance. They should not rest easy. They should repent, if possible, while there is still time.
On three occasions in recent weeks I have found myself having to defend the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints against some energetic opposition. It seemed good to me to write out a defense of this doctrine and have it at the ready should the issue come up again.
Who are the saints? They are the holy ones of God who belong to him by faith and whom he has chosen to inherit eternal life. What does it mean that they persevere? It means that they continue, they endure, they persist in Christ all the way to heaven. None of them is lost. They don't "believe for a while but in time of testing turn away" (Luke 8:13); they endure to the end and are saved (Matthew 24:13). Each of them has a regenerated heart, not a "sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God" (Hebrews 3:12). They do not disown Christ, since the Bible promises "if we disown him, he will disown us" (2 Timothy 3:12) - and saints can never be disowned. They abide (remain, stay, live, persist) in Christ; they do not "go out from us," as John explains, "For if they had belonged to us, they would have remained with us; but their going showed that none of them belonged to us" (1 John 2:19). They are eternally secure. No one can pluck them out of the hand of the Father (John 10:29). Nothing can separate them from the love of Christ. (Romans 8:38-39).
The doctrine of the perseverance of the saints tends to be undermined today in one of two ways: (1) by denying that it is even necessary for believers to persevere in their faith, and (2) by applying the assurance of salvation not merely to persevering saints, but to unpersevering unbelievers! (Yes, I have seen that done.)
I was challenged the other day concerning whether I would actually tell a convert that he had to persevere, and the answer is "Of course! Yes!" Heaven forbid that instead of proclaiming perseverance we should say to a young Christian, "Just believe in Jesus for a week or so, then if you go back to your atheism or hedonism or whatever you'll still be ok." What a contemptuous disregard for Christ's admonition to endure to the end!
When I tell my son that he must be faithful to his wife, I am not saying, "Son, make sure you honor your vows for a period of time - a few months, maybe a few years - then you can sleep around." No! I'm telling him to be permanently faithful. Temporary fidelity is infidelity; temporary belief is unbelief. Would we earnestly tell men to persevere in their marriages, but shy away from telling them to persevere in Christ? Would we instruct our children on the meaning of "till death do us part," but neglect to teach our children of faith the meaning of "endure to the end"? Is Christ less worthy of our faithfulness than a spouse? Are we perhaps afraid we'll "lose the converts" if we tell them that Christianity is a life-long commitment? That's worse than fearing our sons won't marry if we tell them they must be faithful to their spouses for the rest of their lives!
The doctrine of perseverance, of course, does not depend on any such analogy. It is grounded in the Scriptures. Here are some of the many Bible verses that support it:
Hebrews 3:14: We have come to share in Christ if we hold firmly till the end the confidence we had at first.
Note the "if" in the verse above. It does not say that we have come to share in Christ whether or not we hold our confidence firmly till end, but if. If a person does not hold firmly to the end, then he has not "come to share in Christ." He is not a saint. Again, all saints persevere.
2 Timothy 2:12: If we endure, we will also reign with him. If we disown him, he will also disown us.
This verse does not promise, "If we fail to endure, we will nonetheless reign with him." Reigning with Christ is conditioned on endurance. Those who do not endure will not reign with him, and those disown him will be disowned by him. That is precisely what Jesus promised in Matthew 10:33: "Whoever disowns me before men, I will disown him before my Father in heaven." It will be pointed out that Peter disowned Christ three times and yet remained a saint. True - but it must also be mentioned that he lied about Christ only when he felt threatened with death by torture, that he felt anguished remorse within seconds, that he repented within days, and that he then persevered in Christ until his own crucifixion many years later. Peter's momentary "disowning" can hardly be compared with willful, public, repeated, consistent, to-the-deathbed disavowal of Christ like that shown by (for example) former Billy Graham colleague Charles Templeton.
Matthew 24:13 He who stands firm to the end will be saved.
Nowhere does the Bible promise salvation for those who do not stand firm to the end. This is not a problem for saints, however, because all of them do stand firm in Christ. Again (how many times do we have to say it?), the saints persevere.
But aren't there people who make a temporary commitment to Christ and then revoke it? Oh yes, there are lots of them, and the Bible talks about them in spades and warns us not to be like them. They are not saints, and we should not label them as such. Here are a few texts that speak of those who do not persevere in the Lord.
Luke 8:13: Those on the rock are the ones who receive the word with joy when they hear it, but they have no root. They believe for a while, but in the time of testing they fall away.
Here Jesus is talking about temporary converts. They "receive the word with joy" and "believe for a while," but fall away when things get hard. I know that some evangelicals teach it is not possible to believe in Christ temporarily, but both the words of Jesus and our most casual observations prove that false. Jesus was right. Some people do in fact "believe for a while." They aren't faking it. Their joy is real. But later they change their minds and renounce the faith they once embraced. They are not saints, of course, because saints persevere. The saints in Jesus' parable of the seeds in Luke 8 are those who continue to grow and produce a crop.
2 Peter 2:20-22: If they have escaped the corruption of the world by knowing our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and are again entangled in it and overcome, they are worse off at the end than they were at the beginning. It would have been better for them not to have known the way of righteousness, than to have known it and then to turn their backs on the sacred command that was passed on to them. Of them the proverbs are true: "A dog returns to its vomit," and, "A sow that is washed goes back to her wallowing in the mud."
Sobering, isn't it? It is a terrible thing to be a temporary Christian. Peter teaches that lapsed followers of Christ are worse off than those who have never known him. It is much better never to know Christ at all than to know him and turn away.
Hebrews 3:12: See to it, brothers, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God.
The writer of Hebrews is addressing people he calls "brothers." He has seen many former brothers turn away to sinful unbelief, and the whole book of Hebrews can be seen as the author's desperate plea to professing Christians that they persevere in the Lord and beware the apostasy that so many others have fallen into. In 2:1 he writes, "We must pay more careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away." What happens to those who drift away is described in 6:4-6 and 10:26-31:
Hebrews 6:4-6: It is impossible for those who have once been enlightened, who have tasted the heavenly gift, who have shared in the Holy Spirit, who have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the coming age, if they fall away, to be brought back to repentance, because to their loss they are crucifying the Son of God all over again and subjecting him to public disgrace.
Hebrews 10:26-31: If we deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth, no sacrifice for sins is left, but only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God. Anyone who rejected the law of Moses died without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses. How much more severely do you think a man deserves to be punished who has trampled the Son of God under foot, who has treated as an unholy thing the blood of the covenant that sanctified him, and who has insulted the Spirit of grace? For we know him who said, "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," and again, "The Lord will judge his people." It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.
In the Bible, we actually have the names of some people who "crucified the Son of God all over again," "trampled [Him] under foot," "treated as an unholy thing the blood of the covenant" after they had once professed faith in Christ. They are Judas, Alexander, Hymenaus, and Philetus. See below:
2 Timothy 2:17-18: Their teaching will spread like gangrene. Among them are Hymenaeus and Philetus, who have wandered away from the truth.
1 Timothy 1:19-20: ...holding on to faith and a good conscience. Some have rejected these and so have shipwrecked their faith. Among them are Hymenaeus and Alexander, whom I have handed over to Satan to be taught not to blaspheme.
2 Timothy 4:14-15: Alexander the metalworker did me a great deal of harm. The Lord will repay him for what he has done. You too should be on your guard against him, because he strongly opposed our message.
Matthew 26:24:
The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man [Judas] who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born."
I have found that those who maintain that such non-persevering apostates (or "temporary believers") are still saved despite their apostasy often appeal to John 10:27-29 and Romans 8:35-39. The passage in John quotes Jesus as saying, "No one can pluck them out of my hand," and Paul in Romans says that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. The full texts are below:
John 10:27-29: My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand.
Romans 8:35-39: Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: "For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered." No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
These texts are a great comfort to all believers. But applying them to apostate unbelievers is abominable! Please note, in John 10, who the people are who cannot be plucked from the hand of Jesus. They are identified in verse 27 as his sheep: "My sheep listen to my voice, and I know them, and they follow me." And they follow me. Repeat that phrase "and they follow me" a hundred times if necessary to get it stuck in your head. The promise is for sheep who follow Christ! It is not for wolves who abandon him. It is not for apostates who drift away and disown him. All sheep who follow Christ can rest assured that they will never be snatched out of his hand.
Romans 8 makes the same point. "Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ." Who are the "us" to whom this comfort is given? The persevering saints of verses 28 to 30:
Romans 8:28-30: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.
The "us" of verses 35 and 39 are the "those who love God" of verse 28. A lover of God, called according to his purpose, foreknown and predestined to be conformed to the image of Christ, can never be separated from his love. To qualify for the "no separation from Christ" promise in verse 35, a person must love God back in verse 28. Apostates, who hate God so much that they "believe for a while" (Luke 8:13) and then "return to their spiritual vomit" (2 Peter 2:22) and "trample the Son of God under foot" (Hebrews 10:29) and "subject him to public disgrace" (Hebrews 6:6) and "shipwreck their faith" (1 Timothy 1:19) are neither sheep who follow Christ nor lovers of God who can avail themselves of the promises in John 10 and Romans 8.
Someone texted me the question, "So does 'perseverance of the saints' doctrine mean that no one should feel eternally secure in their salvation?" I texted back, "Of course not. All those who persevere should feel eternally secure. Those who do not persevere should not feel secure."
Perhaps an analogy will help.
Do you feel secure in your marriage? I hope so. I hope that, if you are married, it is to someone who would never leave you nor forsake you.
Now let me ask you to imagine that you are married to someone who is perfect in every way. This mate would not, could not cheat on you. Unfaithfulness is not in his nature - it is completely unthinkable to him. In addition, he is kind. He is also strong and protective - you know that he would prevent any kidnapper or abuser from coming in and snatching you away. If you get sick he will care for you. If others insult you he will not join in their bullying but speak compassionately to you. If you become poor he will not ditch you; instead, he will be poor with you, and will labor to provide what you need. If you become terminally ill, and die, he will be at your bedside holding your hand. Neither life nor death nor sickness nor poverty nor persecution nor anything like that can separate you from his love.
Would you feel secure in such a marriage? Of course you would. Would you fear that your marriage to such a man would end in divorce? Of course not! You'd have every reason for confidence that your marriage to him would last a lifetime.
However, you would have no grounds for such confidence if you're cheating on him. Chronic adulteresses who treat their loving husbands with contempt have no right to an assurance that their marriages will endure. Wives who trample their husbands under foot may expect a divorce just as surely as sinners who "trample the Son of God under foot" may expect a "raging fire that will consume the enemies of God."
Saints persevere, and rest assured that their union with Christ will last forever in the same way that loving wives rest confident that their good husbands will be with them until parted by death. Apostates and adulteresses, however, have no such assurance. They should not rest easy. They should repent, if possible, while there is still time.
Friday, August 27, 2010
August 31, 2010: Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream
As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a den [that had a radio in it], and laid me down in that place to sleep [while listening to WMBI]; and as I slept, I dreamed a dream.
In my dream, I saw Jesus talking to a rich young man. I seemed to understand that I was viewing the scene recorded in Mark 10:17-27, except that a few things seemed different.
First, instead of the rich man approaching Jesus, it was Jesus who approached him. The rich man never asked, "Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" Instead, Jesus asked him, "Is there anything I can do to persuade you to have a personal relationship with me?"
"I'll need some assurances first," the man replied.
"I'm your servant," Jesus said. "Please tell me your concerns. I'll listen, and I'll try to do whatever I can to make this work."
"Ok. I'd like to know this: Are there a lot of do's and don'ts in your religion? Rules and regulations that I have to follow?"
"Rules!" Jesus cried. "Do's and Don'ts! Listen, young man: this is about relationship, not rules. The Pharisees are all about rules. The elder brother in my Prodigal Son story is all about rules. Oh those silly rule-keepers! I can't stand it when people think they can please me by obeying a bunch of rules. Why, just the other day I told my disciples, 'If you break all my rules, you will remain in my love' [John 15:10]. Thankfully my disciple John understood this right way - he was taking notes and I saw him write down, 'This is love for God: that we not trouble ourselves with obeying a bunch of rules' [1 John 5:3]. Ask the crowds who have heard me preach, and they can tell you how consistent I have been on this point. I boldly told them recently that my true mother and brothers are those who hear the Word of God and realize that they don't have to 'do' or 'perform' it in order to be part of my family. [Luke 8:21]. I'm about grace, not performance."
In my dream I saw the man turn to a friend, and I heard him whisper, "I like Jesus' religion! All other religions of the world are concerned about what I DO. They insist that I follow a set of rules in order to be in right relationship with Ultimate Reality and enjoy Its favor. What a relief to know that rules and regulations are not an issue here! Please remind me in case I forget: In Jesus' religion, there's no rule against sleeping with my kids' babysitter, or neglecting my parents, or taking bribes, or defrauding my clients, or oppressing races I don't like, or slandering all the innocent people who get in the way of my ambition."
Then the man turned back to Jesus and said, "Tell me this. Do I have to sacrifice anything?"
Jesus sighed. I perceived he was frustrated that the man still wasn't getting it. "Look," Jesus said. "Sacrificing yourself is a work. You're not saved by works. You're saved by grace. Stop trying to earn my favor! It really is all about rules and performance with you, isn't it? I mean, here you go again, thinking you could 'please' me or 'earn my favor' with your 'performance' of 'obeying the rule' of 'sacrificing yourself' to follow me. All the other religions of the world are about that kind of thing. They require sacrifice and self-denial; I don't. If any man would come after me, he must lay down his cross and stop thinking that he has to do all these burdensome things to please me" [Luke 9:23].
"Are my riches a problem?" the man asked.
"A problem? A problem??? Oh heavens no. It's easier for a rich man to get into heaven than it is for a camel to spit in the sand. I could take you to quite a few of my assemblies that are full of people with nice homes and expensive cars who don't even tithe! I'm so glad they understand that my love is unconditional - it has nothing to do with their generosity or lack thereof [2 Corinthians 9:7]. Just the other day my disciple Peter marveled, 'Lord, we have left nothing to follow you!' [Mark 10:28], and of course I just grinned at him. (Oh, and I should mention in passing that since this is your first time visiting me, I don't expect you to give anything. Just let the collection bucket pass. It's policy. I don't want you to feel threatened or pressured.)
"No, friend," Jesus continued. "Your money is no obstacle at all. Quite the opposite in fact. I find that having people like you around helps us be more attractive to the kind of people we want to draw in. And I may as well tell you now - an unwritten requirement for lay leadership in my community is financial success of the sort for which you obviously have a knack."
My dream began to fade. But just before it was fully gone, I thought I saw the man's face break into a broad smile. He seemed to place his hand on Jesus' shoulder. And as my eyes began to flutter open, I nevertheless distinctly heard him say, "Jesus, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a den [that had a radio in it], and laid me down in that place to sleep [while listening to WMBI]; and as I slept, I dreamed a dream.
In my dream, I saw Jesus talking to a rich young man. I seemed to understand that I was viewing the scene recorded in Mark 10:17-27, except that a few things seemed different.
First, instead of the rich man approaching Jesus, it was Jesus who approached him. The rich man never asked, "Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" Instead, Jesus asked him, "Is there anything I can do to persuade you to have a personal relationship with me?"
"I'll need some assurances first," the man replied.
"I'm your servant," Jesus said. "Please tell me your concerns. I'll listen, and I'll try to do whatever I can to make this work."
"Ok. I'd like to know this: Are there a lot of do's and don'ts in your religion? Rules and regulations that I have to follow?"
"Rules!" Jesus cried. "Do's and Don'ts! Listen, young man: this is about relationship, not rules. The Pharisees are all about rules. The elder brother in my Prodigal Son story is all about rules. Oh those silly rule-keepers! I can't stand it when people think they can please me by obeying a bunch of rules. Why, just the other day I told my disciples, 'If you break all my rules, you will remain in my love' [John 15:10]. Thankfully my disciple John understood this right way - he was taking notes and I saw him write down, 'This is love for God: that we not trouble ourselves with obeying a bunch of rules' [1 John 5:3]. Ask the crowds who have heard me preach, and they can tell you how consistent I have been on this point. I boldly told them recently that my true mother and brothers are those who hear the Word of God and realize that they don't have to 'do' or 'perform' it in order to be part of my family. [Luke 8:21]. I'm about grace, not performance."
In my dream I saw the man turn to a friend, and I heard him whisper, "I like Jesus' religion! All other religions of the world are concerned about what I DO. They insist that I follow a set of rules in order to be in right relationship with Ultimate Reality and enjoy Its favor. What a relief to know that rules and regulations are not an issue here! Please remind me in case I forget: In Jesus' religion, there's no rule against sleeping with my kids' babysitter, or neglecting my parents, or taking bribes, or defrauding my clients, or oppressing races I don't like, or slandering all the innocent people who get in the way of my ambition."
Then the man turned back to Jesus and said, "Tell me this. Do I have to sacrifice anything?"
Jesus sighed. I perceived he was frustrated that the man still wasn't getting it. "Look," Jesus said. "Sacrificing yourself is a work. You're not saved by works. You're saved by grace. Stop trying to earn my favor! It really is all about rules and performance with you, isn't it? I mean, here you go again, thinking you could 'please' me or 'earn my favor' with your 'performance' of 'obeying the rule' of 'sacrificing yourself' to follow me. All the other religions of the world are about that kind of thing. They require sacrifice and self-denial; I don't. If any man would come after me, he must lay down his cross and stop thinking that he has to do all these burdensome things to please me" [Luke 9:23].
"Are my riches a problem?" the man asked.
"A problem? A problem??? Oh heavens no. It's easier for a rich man to get into heaven than it is for a camel to spit in the sand. I could take you to quite a few of my assemblies that are full of people with nice homes and expensive cars who don't even tithe! I'm so glad they understand that my love is unconditional - it has nothing to do with their generosity or lack thereof [2 Corinthians 9:7]. Just the other day my disciple Peter marveled, 'Lord, we have left nothing to follow you!' [Mark 10:28], and of course I just grinned at him. (Oh, and I should mention in passing that since this is your first time visiting me, I don't expect you to give anything. Just let the collection bucket pass. It's policy. I don't want you to feel threatened or pressured.)
"No, friend," Jesus continued. "Your money is no obstacle at all. Quite the opposite in fact. I find that having people like you around helps us be more attractive to the kind of people we want to draw in. And I may as well tell you now - an unwritten requirement for lay leadership in my community is financial success of the sort for which you obviously have a knack."
My dream began to fade. But just before it was fully gone, I thought I saw the man's face break into a broad smile. He seemed to place his hand on Jesus' shoulder. And as my eyes began to flutter open, I nevertheless distinctly heard him say, "Jesus, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
August 24, 2010: Plan B
I honor people whose dreams get crushed, whose plans lie in ruins, whose life's work comes to nothing - and who still find some way to move forward. They are my heroes. If you are one of these people, God bless you. I will be looking to you, drawing inspiration from you, meditating on your virtue and doing my sorry best to imitate your ways. Thank you for being my example. Please take comfort in knowing that you are one of God's means - perhaps his primary means, certainly his most poignant means - of taking me through this season of bewildered melancholy. You have almost certainly inspired others too, but you may not have known it.
I will explain why I love you so much. A couple days ago I accepted a job offer with Sears to sell mattresses on commission. I start training tonight. It is good to have a job, and it's an abomination for an able-bodied man like me not to work. Ever since I got laid off from the pastorate a year ago (and have had only temporary jobs since), the Bible verses that most come to mind are not pleasant ones like "'I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future'" (Jeremiah 29:11), but rather stern ones like "If a man will not work, neither let him eat" (2 Thessalonians 3:10), and "If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for the members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever" (1 Timothy 5:8). The money I expect to earn from Sears won't be enough to provide for my "relatives and household members" - but at least I'll be contributing something toward my upkeep. Hooray job.
I am thankful to God for this work, and have told him so. But I confess that my gratitude does not keep me from feeling like my heart has been ripped out and now lies on the floor in a pulpy mess. You see, all this time I thought that I had a sacred calling. I first sensed - or thought I sensed - that God was calling me to a pulpit ministry when I was about 16 years old. For the sake of that call I went to Wheaton College and majored in Bible. God's call to preach - or again, what I thought was God's call to preach - was the reason why, on returning from missionary service, I went to Trinity and got an MDiv. I studied Greek and Hebrew and read Calvin and Edwards not so that I could equip myself to sell mattresses but so that I could honor God by proclaiming his Word in the pulpit to which he summoned me.
Oh well. Thirty years after first setting my face toward ministry I find myself surveying the wreckage of a broken dream. The leaders of the tribal group that I worked with in Colombia insisted that I not translate the Bible. My first wife left me. Deacons in both churches that I pastored abruptly informed me that my services were no longer wanted. And now I can find no prospects at all for paid work in the only thing I know how to do.
It seems to me that when a man reaches middle age, it is reasonable to expect, in this culture, that he be working in a career for which he has acquired a couple decades of experience and skill. He should own a home. He should have a pension or be saving money for retirement. He should have life and health insurance. He should be providing for his family and paying for his kids to go to college. Well, I have landed in middle age and have failed at every single thing on the list above. (Though I do have 300 dollars in a checking account.)
So now I have little choice but to go on to Plan B. Not a ministry, but a mattress; not a pulpit, but a bed frame; not a mission, but (hopefully) a commission. Part of me says, "Very well then - if this is the hand I am dealt, I will play it as well as I can and work hard to be the best mattress salesman Sears ever had. I will hawk bedding to the glory of God." Then another part of me answers, "Right. How spiritual of you. But just what makes you to think you will be any more successful at this than you have been at anything else?" Deep within I know that there is nothing in my understanding of God that precludes the possibility of cascading down a series of plans from C to D to E to F, each one less fulfilling and more humiliating than the previous. (Have you seen Ed Wood's Plan 9 From Outer Space? The first 8 plans didn't work.)
This is where I look to my heroes. Actually heroines, since the three that come to mind are all women. There's my mother, who, in her mid 50s, battled fragile health and the despair of sudden widowhood in order to find work and carry on both emotionally and financially. There's my sister Lois: pretty, bright, capable, funny - she kept a beautiful house and raised three kids until her crap scum of an adulterous husband dumped her the same year their son was murdered and her (and my) mother died. She picked up the pieces of a broken life and now, in her 50s, works harder than anybody I know in the back-breaking work of an elementary school janitor. And there's my wife Lisa. (My admiration of Lisa embarrasses her, I know, but I don't care - she is admirable, and I need to admire.) For five years after her husband died this widowed mother of three would not wear mascara because it ran every time she cried - and she cried all the time. But she pulled herself together and raised her kids and went to school and became a physical therapist assistant and blessed a thousand hearts and capped off all her kindnesses by loving a lonely single-dad pastor of a small church. (Yes, I'm part of her Plan B.)
Was anyone more deserving of having their Plan A work out than Jennie, Lois and Lisa? A life-long marriage to one good husband and relaxed retirement in sunset years - that's the way it was supposed to happen. But it didn't, and when it didn't, they all found ways to assemble a Plan B from scratch and carry it through with character and strength and good grace.
May God be merciful to me for all my whiny, auto-indulgent self-pity. If you would be so kind, please say a prayer that he will give me power to embrace Plan B with the grace and dignity of my heroines and betters. And say a prayer of thanks, too, for them and for all the Plan B role models you know who have bravely assembled workable realities from the shards and fragments of broken dreams.
I honor people whose dreams get crushed, whose plans lie in ruins, whose life's work comes to nothing - and who still find some way to move forward. They are my heroes. If you are one of these people, God bless you. I will be looking to you, drawing inspiration from you, meditating on your virtue and doing my sorry best to imitate your ways. Thank you for being my example. Please take comfort in knowing that you are one of God's means - perhaps his primary means, certainly his most poignant means - of taking me through this season of bewildered melancholy. You have almost certainly inspired others too, but you may not have known it.
I will explain why I love you so much. A couple days ago I accepted a job offer with Sears to sell mattresses on commission. I start training tonight. It is good to have a job, and it's an abomination for an able-bodied man like me not to work. Ever since I got laid off from the pastorate a year ago (and have had only temporary jobs since), the Bible verses that most come to mind are not pleasant ones like "'I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future'" (Jeremiah 29:11), but rather stern ones like "If a man will not work, neither let him eat" (2 Thessalonians 3:10), and "If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for the members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever" (1 Timothy 5:8). The money I expect to earn from Sears won't be enough to provide for my "relatives and household members" - but at least I'll be contributing something toward my upkeep. Hooray job.
I am thankful to God for this work, and have told him so. But I confess that my gratitude does not keep me from feeling like my heart has been ripped out and now lies on the floor in a pulpy mess. You see, all this time I thought that I had a sacred calling. I first sensed - or thought I sensed - that God was calling me to a pulpit ministry when I was about 16 years old. For the sake of that call I went to Wheaton College and majored in Bible. God's call to preach - or again, what I thought was God's call to preach - was the reason why, on returning from missionary service, I went to Trinity and got an MDiv. I studied Greek and Hebrew and read Calvin and Edwards not so that I could equip myself to sell mattresses but so that I could honor God by proclaiming his Word in the pulpit to which he summoned me.
Oh well. Thirty years after first setting my face toward ministry I find myself surveying the wreckage of a broken dream. The leaders of the tribal group that I worked with in Colombia insisted that I not translate the Bible. My first wife left me. Deacons in both churches that I pastored abruptly informed me that my services were no longer wanted. And now I can find no prospects at all for paid work in the only thing I know how to do.
It seems to me that when a man reaches middle age, it is reasonable to expect, in this culture, that he be working in a career for which he has acquired a couple decades of experience and skill. He should own a home. He should have a pension or be saving money for retirement. He should have life and health insurance. He should be providing for his family and paying for his kids to go to college. Well, I have landed in middle age and have failed at every single thing on the list above. (Though I do have 300 dollars in a checking account.)
So now I have little choice but to go on to Plan B. Not a ministry, but a mattress; not a pulpit, but a bed frame; not a mission, but (hopefully) a commission. Part of me says, "Very well then - if this is the hand I am dealt, I will play it as well as I can and work hard to be the best mattress salesman Sears ever had. I will hawk bedding to the glory of God." Then another part of me answers, "Right. How spiritual of you. But just what makes you to think you will be any more successful at this than you have been at anything else?" Deep within I know that there is nothing in my understanding of God that precludes the possibility of cascading down a series of plans from C to D to E to F, each one less fulfilling and more humiliating than the previous. (Have you seen Ed Wood's Plan 9 From Outer Space? The first 8 plans didn't work.)
This is where I look to my heroes. Actually heroines, since the three that come to mind are all women. There's my mother, who, in her mid 50s, battled fragile health and the despair of sudden widowhood in order to find work and carry on both emotionally and financially. There's my sister Lois: pretty, bright, capable, funny - she kept a beautiful house and raised three kids until her crap scum of an adulterous husband dumped her the same year their son was murdered and her (and my) mother died. She picked up the pieces of a broken life and now, in her 50s, works harder than anybody I know in the back-breaking work of an elementary school janitor. And there's my wife Lisa. (My admiration of Lisa embarrasses her, I know, but I don't care - she is admirable, and I need to admire.) For five years after her husband died this widowed mother of three would not wear mascara because it ran every time she cried - and she cried all the time. But she pulled herself together and raised her kids and went to school and became a physical therapist assistant and blessed a thousand hearts and capped off all her kindnesses by loving a lonely single-dad pastor of a small church. (Yes, I'm part of her Plan B.)
Was anyone more deserving of having their Plan A work out than Jennie, Lois and Lisa? A life-long marriage to one good husband and relaxed retirement in sunset years - that's the way it was supposed to happen. But it didn't, and when it didn't, they all found ways to assemble a Plan B from scratch and carry it through with character and strength and good grace.
May God be merciful to me for all my whiny, auto-indulgent self-pity. If you would be so kind, please say a prayer that he will give me power to embrace Plan B with the grace and dignity of my heroines and betters. And say a prayer of thanks, too, for them and for all the Plan B role models you know who have bravely assembled workable realities from the shards and fragments of broken dreams.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
August 17, 2010: "Look at Me! I Did A Good Thing!"
Don't you hate it when you do a good deed and don't get any credit? Or sacrifice yourself and no one notices? Or engage in some holy act of discipline just when everybody is looking the other way? Me too.
This is a bad thing, of course. We should never notice that no one is noticing, nor should we make even the smallest effort to adjust somebody's spotlight of moral perception so that it shines on us. Jesus commanded that we do our good work quietly: "Be careful not to do your 'acts of righteousness' before men, to be seen by them," he said (Matthew 6:1). When giving to the needy, don't let your left hand know what your right hand is doing (verse 3). Pray privately, behind closed doors (verses 5-6). And when you fast, do it so stealthily that, as you walk about town, you try hard not even to look hungry! (verses 17-18).
Recently on the radio I heard about a Christian leader who had fasted for 40 days. That's a violation right there. Evidently this leader not only told people that he was fasting, but for how long! You can't do that, Reverend. I recall hearing similar stories about "how long our leaders have been fasting" at a Promise Keepers rally in February 1996, and it was one of several things that turned me off to that conference. Publicizing our piety is wrong. Put a lid on it. I'm sure it's annoying to endure days of holy hunger and get no inspirational mileage out of it - but that's the way it has to be.
Some years ago when I was a guest speaker at a church the pastor introduced me to a woman in his congregation who had read the Bible 33 times. 33 times! Great. But you see the problem, don't you? She was keeping track. I'm all for reading the Bible, but I'm all against counting the number of times you've done it. Let not your left hemisphere know how many times your right hemisphere has read the Word.
It is best to do good simply because it is good, because it pleases God, and take no notice of whether you are being noticed. Many of us have been inspired by stories of those who became Christians - or who grew in their Christian maturity - by observing the behavior of stand-out believers and deciding "I want to be like that." Those accounts (I know several) indeed warm the heart. But in our corruption we are apt to misuse them by thinking, "If I behave really well in front of so-and-so, he'll be awfully impressed with me, and he'll ask me my secret, and I can tell him 'Jesus!'"
Hmmm. Here are some problems with making deliberate goodness a strategy for evangelism and discipleship:
1) You'll be surprised how seldom it works. A friend told me that the times in his life when he was most righteous in his Christian walk, no one noticed, no one was curious, no one said "My, what a great change has come over you!" Frustrating isn't it - how can they not notice? But maybe instead of being chagrined over the lack of attention we should be thankful for the lack of persecution. Jesus behaved perfectly and got crucified; the disciples behaved pretty well and mostly got martyred.
2) You'll be tempted to turn goodness into a mercenary endeavor. A patriot fights because he loves his country; a mercenary fights to get paid. When a person starts practicing discipline and virtue in order to receive wages in the coin of evangelical influence, he is likely to lose heart when he observes that nobody is "seeing his good work and glorifying his Father in heaven." Soon he finds himself without motive for righteous behavior. Remember that goodness is not a means to an end. It is an end. Be good for goodness' sake.
3) Boy will you get a comeuppance when you engage in a duel of virtue with an unbeliever - and lose! That has happened to me. I have known some non-religious people who excel so magnificently in several areas of moral life that all I can say to you is "Good luck trying to out-behave them." They are unlikely to be impressed with your generosity, your hospitality, your self-discipline. But even if you aren't as good as they are in some things, the fact remains that if you believe in Jesus, you still have the truth they need to hear.
Just be as good as you can no matter who is looking. Or isn't looking. God is always looking, and that should be enough for us.
Don't you hate it when you do a good deed and don't get any credit? Or sacrifice yourself and no one notices? Or engage in some holy act of discipline just when everybody is looking the other way? Me too.
This is a bad thing, of course. We should never notice that no one is noticing, nor should we make even the smallest effort to adjust somebody's spotlight of moral perception so that it shines on us. Jesus commanded that we do our good work quietly: "Be careful not to do your 'acts of righteousness' before men, to be seen by them," he said (Matthew 6:1). When giving to the needy, don't let your left hand know what your right hand is doing (verse 3). Pray privately, behind closed doors (verses 5-6). And when you fast, do it so stealthily that, as you walk about town, you try hard not even to look hungry! (verses 17-18).
Recently on the radio I heard about a Christian leader who had fasted for 40 days. That's a violation right there. Evidently this leader not only told people that he was fasting, but for how long! You can't do that, Reverend. I recall hearing similar stories about "how long our leaders have been fasting" at a Promise Keepers rally in February 1996, and it was one of several things that turned me off to that conference. Publicizing our piety is wrong. Put a lid on it. I'm sure it's annoying to endure days of holy hunger and get no inspirational mileage out of it - but that's the way it has to be.
Some years ago when I was a guest speaker at a church the pastor introduced me to a woman in his congregation who had read the Bible 33 times. 33 times! Great. But you see the problem, don't you? She was keeping track. I'm all for reading the Bible, but I'm all against counting the number of times you've done it. Let not your left hemisphere know how many times your right hemisphere has read the Word.
It is best to do good simply because it is good, because it pleases God, and take no notice of whether you are being noticed. Many of us have been inspired by stories of those who became Christians - or who grew in their Christian maturity - by observing the behavior of stand-out believers and deciding "I want to be like that." Those accounts (I know several) indeed warm the heart. But in our corruption we are apt to misuse them by thinking, "If I behave really well in front of so-and-so, he'll be awfully impressed with me, and he'll ask me my secret, and I can tell him 'Jesus!'"
Hmmm. Here are some problems with making deliberate goodness a strategy for evangelism and discipleship:
1) You'll be surprised how seldom it works. A friend told me that the times in his life when he was most righteous in his Christian walk, no one noticed, no one was curious, no one said "My, what a great change has come over you!" Frustrating isn't it - how can they not notice? But maybe instead of being chagrined over the lack of attention we should be thankful for the lack of persecution. Jesus behaved perfectly and got crucified; the disciples behaved pretty well and mostly got martyred.
2) You'll be tempted to turn goodness into a mercenary endeavor. A patriot fights because he loves his country; a mercenary fights to get paid. When a person starts practicing discipline and virtue in order to receive wages in the coin of evangelical influence, he is likely to lose heart when he observes that nobody is "seeing his good work and glorifying his Father in heaven." Soon he finds himself without motive for righteous behavior. Remember that goodness is not a means to an end. It is an end. Be good for goodness' sake.
3) Boy will you get a comeuppance when you engage in a duel of virtue with an unbeliever - and lose! That has happened to me. I have known some non-religious people who excel so magnificently in several areas of moral life that all I can say to you is "Good luck trying to out-behave them." They are unlikely to be impressed with your generosity, your hospitality, your self-discipline. But even if you aren't as good as they are in some things, the fact remains that if you believe in Jesus, you still have the truth they need to hear.
Just be as good as you can no matter who is looking. Or isn't looking. God is always looking, and that should be enough for us.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
August 10: 2010: The Passion Of The Christ Revisited
The disciples did not know which one of them would betray Jesus (Matthew 26:21-22). That is amazing, because it shows how well Judas blended in. If he had been the only disciple who couldn't heal or cast out demons, if he had always let someone else do the preaching, if he had disappeared during prayer meetings, or if he had got caught sneaking off to brothels, then when Jesus said, "One of you will betray me" the rest would have said, "Of course! We all know who that has to be." And Peter no doubt would have drawn his knife and tackled Judas and begged Jesus' permission to slit his throat.
Judas must have seemed like one of them, saying and doing most of the right things most of the time. There was only one warning sign that we know of. In John 12:6 we read that he used to steal from the money bag, and that he feigned a love for the poor so that he could skim contributions intended for them (Like many TV preachers today!). But I suspect most of the disciples didn't even know Judas was embezzling. Maybe only John saw him lift coins from the common purse (Matthew, Mark and Luke don't report it), and, being a young follower of Jesus - probably only in his teens or early 20s - John decided not to say anything at the time.
Judas came to mind as I contemplated the recent revelation of Mel Gibson. I mean "revelation" literally: the public revealing of the character of this devil in human form. The news concerning Gibson in the last few years - and especially the last few weeks - has shown us that it was an antichrist whose film about Jesus' crucifixion took over the ministry of many of our churches in the spring of 2004. We didn't know Gibson then. We do now.
The facts are these: Mel Gibson is a greedy, self-indulgent, foul-mouthed drunk. He is a fornicator and an adulterer. He is racist and anti-Semitic. He is a man of threats and violence who spews hatred in all directions. Have you listened to the tapes of his foul tirades against the whore for whom he dumped his wife? No? Good. Don't. They might educate, but they cannot edify your soul. When a child of hell gives voice to rage, the children of light should stop up their ears.
I think now it is possible to see The Passion Of The Christ in its true light. Gibson never loved Jesus Christ. He loved violence, and for him the holiest moment in history was simply an excuse to exhibit the torture porn for which he is celebrated. The other films Gibson directed, Braveheart and Apocalypto, are similarly riddled with bloody excess. Concerning Braveheart, one reviewer wrote, "The action sequences are gory and the final scene is not for the squeamish as Gibson directed the camera to hold for a rapturous moment of disembowelment." As for Apocalypto, a reviewer asked, "Does Gibson need to repeatedly show us lopped-off heads bouncing like coconuts down the towering stairs of a pyramid to prove that pre-Columbian Mayan society was a savage place?"
Charles Krauthammer made a good point about The Passion Of The Christ when he wrote in March of 2004, "Three of the Gospels have but a one-line reference to Jesus' scourging. The fourth has no reference at all. In Gibson's movie this becomes 10 minutes of the most unremitting sadism in the history of film. Why 10? Why not five? Why not two? Why not zero, as in Luke? Gibson chose 10."
Gibson chose 10 because he got a pathological thrill out of the graphic depiction of torture. Now it is true that Jesus suffered terribly, and it is also true that that suffering is meaningful to us Christians. "By his stripes we are healed." But does that mean we must have his cinematic blood splattered in our faces? Because it is likewise meaningful that Jesus is fully human and fully divine. So, to appreciate his humanity, do we need to watch explicit cinematic close-ups of him going to the bathroom? The virgin birth is important too: should we watch a filmed dramatization of baby Jesus' crowning head breaking Mary's hymen as she gives him birth?
My tone is angry - I know. I am angry. I get ticked off when wolves dupe lambs. Back in 2004 my congregation went to see The Passion, and I did not go with them. That got me a rebuke from one of my parishioners. I half-apologetically wrote a Pastor's Page explaining my objections to Hollywood treatments of Jesus, but I wish now in retrospect I had stated my case much more strongly, and advised my congregation not to go.
The Church universal is not wholly to blame for being so badly snookered by Gibson the Psychopath. Sometimes it is just very hard to tell who is for real. Again, Judas fooled everyone but Christ. In Acts 16, it apparently even took Paul several days before he realized that the girl who followed him around telling everybody that he was a God's servant proclaiming salvation was actually just a demon-possessed subversive.
Still, I would like to see a lot more spiritual discernment in the Church in North America. We demonstrate a disturbing knack for getting swayed by celebrity, spectacle, entertainment and extravaganza. We've proven ourselves capable of throwing spiritual caution (and spiritual reasoning) to the winds for the sake of a compelling flick.
Some time ago I was in a church men's group meeting that featured clips from another Gibson vehicle, The Patriot. These clips showed battlefield decapitations, bullets to the head, hatchets to the neck, knives to the chest - again and again and again and again, leaving a huge and gruesome body count. Even children participated in the violence onscreen. I left the church in sadness, wondering, "With the stunning lack of spiritual discernment here, am I in the right place?"
The disciples did not know which one of them would betray Jesus (Matthew 26:21-22). That is amazing, because it shows how well Judas blended in. If he had been the only disciple who couldn't heal or cast out demons, if he had always let someone else do the preaching, if he had disappeared during prayer meetings, or if he had got caught sneaking off to brothels, then when Jesus said, "One of you will betray me" the rest would have said, "Of course! We all know who that has to be." And Peter no doubt would have drawn his knife and tackled Judas and begged Jesus' permission to slit his throat.
Judas must have seemed like one of them, saying and doing most of the right things most of the time. There was only one warning sign that we know of. In John 12:6 we read that he used to steal from the money bag, and that he feigned a love for the poor so that he could skim contributions intended for them (Like many TV preachers today!). But I suspect most of the disciples didn't even know Judas was embezzling. Maybe only John saw him lift coins from the common purse (Matthew, Mark and Luke don't report it), and, being a young follower of Jesus - probably only in his teens or early 20s - John decided not to say anything at the time.
Judas came to mind as I contemplated the recent revelation of Mel Gibson. I mean "revelation" literally: the public revealing of the character of this devil in human form. The news concerning Gibson in the last few years - and especially the last few weeks - has shown us that it was an antichrist whose film about Jesus' crucifixion took over the ministry of many of our churches in the spring of 2004. We didn't know Gibson then. We do now.
The facts are these: Mel Gibson is a greedy, self-indulgent, foul-mouthed drunk. He is a fornicator and an adulterer. He is racist and anti-Semitic. He is a man of threats and violence who spews hatred in all directions. Have you listened to the tapes of his foul tirades against the whore for whom he dumped his wife? No? Good. Don't. They might educate, but they cannot edify your soul. When a child of hell gives voice to rage, the children of light should stop up their ears.
I think now it is possible to see The Passion Of The Christ in its true light. Gibson never loved Jesus Christ. He loved violence, and for him the holiest moment in history was simply an excuse to exhibit the torture porn for which he is celebrated. The other films Gibson directed, Braveheart and Apocalypto, are similarly riddled with bloody excess. Concerning Braveheart, one reviewer wrote, "The action sequences are gory and the final scene is not for the squeamish as Gibson directed the camera to hold for a rapturous moment of disembowelment." As for Apocalypto, a reviewer asked, "Does Gibson need to repeatedly show us lopped-off heads bouncing like coconuts down the towering stairs of a pyramid to prove that pre-Columbian Mayan society was a savage place?"
Charles Krauthammer made a good point about The Passion Of The Christ when he wrote in March of 2004, "Three of the Gospels have but a one-line reference to Jesus' scourging. The fourth has no reference at all. In Gibson's movie this becomes 10 minutes of the most unremitting sadism in the history of film. Why 10? Why not five? Why not two? Why not zero, as in Luke? Gibson chose 10."
Gibson chose 10 because he got a pathological thrill out of the graphic depiction of torture. Now it is true that Jesus suffered terribly, and it is also true that that suffering is meaningful to us Christians. "By his stripes we are healed." But does that mean we must have his cinematic blood splattered in our faces? Because it is likewise meaningful that Jesus is fully human and fully divine. So, to appreciate his humanity, do we need to watch explicit cinematic close-ups of him going to the bathroom? The virgin birth is important too: should we watch a filmed dramatization of baby Jesus' crowning head breaking Mary's hymen as she gives him birth?
My tone is angry - I know. I am angry. I get ticked off when wolves dupe lambs. Back in 2004 my congregation went to see The Passion, and I did not go with them. That got me a rebuke from one of my parishioners. I half-apologetically wrote a Pastor's Page explaining my objections to Hollywood treatments of Jesus, but I wish now in retrospect I had stated my case much more strongly, and advised my congregation not to go.
The Church universal is not wholly to blame for being so badly snookered by Gibson the Psychopath. Sometimes it is just very hard to tell who is for real. Again, Judas fooled everyone but Christ. In Acts 16, it apparently even took Paul several days before he realized that the girl who followed him around telling everybody that he was a God's servant proclaiming salvation was actually just a demon-possessed subversive.
Still, I would like to see a lot more spiritual discernment in the Church in North America. We demonstrate a disturbing knack for getting swayed by celebrity, spectacle, entertainment and extravaganza. We've proven ourselves capable of throwing spiritual caution (and spiritual reasoning) to the winds for the sake of a compelling flick.
Some time ago I was in a church men's group meeting that featured clips from another Gibson vehicle, The Patriot. These clips showed battlefield decapitations, bullets to the head, hatchets to the neck, knives to the chest - again and again and again and again, leaving a huge and gruesome body count. Even children participated in the violence onscreen. I left the church in sadness, wondering, "With the stunning lack of spiritual discernment here, am I in the right place?"
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