Blog Theme Song?

This afternoon I was splitting duty between rocking my crying, fussy son and preparing for a class I'll be teaching at church next week about God's providence--his sustaining, governing, and directing of all things for the sake of his saving purposes.  Getting annoyed and frustrated, I thought, "Music soothes the savage beast; maybe Ephraim will chill out with some music ... and a bottle."  With providence on my mind, I put on--who else?--Caedmon's Call.  As I listened to "Before There Was Time" (on In the Company of Angels) I realized it sums up everything good this blog is about.  Not only is this song about how God set his affection on his chosen people from before creation in order to redeem them from the darkness of sin and how he works out his care in every detail of their lives.  The song also even mentions the Anastasis fresco in Istanbul that makes up the page backdrop (Jesus taking Abraham and Sarah or Adam and Eve by the hand from the grave).  The notes on this song from the Caedmon's Call website profess: "Simply awestruck by the depth and breadth of God's plan and provision, to know that we are in His grasp more tightly than we can possibly understand."

To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!

Before there was time, 
There were visions in Your mind. 
There was death in the fall of mankind, 
But there was life in salvation's design. 
Before there were days, 
There were nights I could not see Your face, 
But the night couldn't keep me from grace 
When You came and took my place. 

So I cry, "Holy, only begotten Son of God, 
Ancient of Days." 
I cry, "Holy, only begotten Son of God." 
And sing the praises 
Of the One who saved me, 
And the promises He made. 

Most Influential Books: Chosen in Christ, Richard D. Phillips

If it was John Piper who showed me that the Bible teaches an utterly sovereign God (Desiring God has a lengthy appendix about how God ordaining evil and sin to accomplish his purpose in creation), it was Rick Phillips who taught me that God's complete control is a doctrine that affords rest for our souls.  As the title implies, Chosen in Christ: The Glory of Grace in Ephesians 1 (Presbyterian & Reformed, 2004) is a book about the doctrines of grace or the "five points of Calvinism."  But far from attempting to analytically prove a cold, lifeless doctrine, this book was a warmhearted host offering a rich meal to his guests.  Phillips walks through every verse and phrase of the first chapter of Ephesians and unpacks Paul's teaching, along with help from the hymns of the church and preachers within the Reformed tradition.

Chosen in Christ helped me to see that predestination, election, and the sovereign plan of God in salvation are not the calculating schemes of a heavenly accountant nor a Macchiavellian despot, but the expression of the joy-securing love God bestows in grace upon his sinful people.

There is no debate raging within the Godhead concerning our place in salvation, no tension; there are no awkward silences or heated conversations.  Rather there is a grand and cohesive conspiracy of love originating in the eternal and sovereign grace of the Father.  (p. 33)

Most Influential Books: Desiring God, John Piper

Ask my wife: She's married to a bibliophile.  Perhaps more realistically, I like the idea of reading and being well-read more than the cost, time, and labor it actually takes to read a lot.  (My Amazon.com wish list has 146 books on it!)  But either way, I really enjoy reading.  (Olivia will add, "...nonfiction, that is!  When will you ever read The Hunger Games?).  I've long thought of posting about the books that have most influenced me, so in somewhat chronological order, I'll reveal a little bit about each one and how they've molded me.

After the Bible became to me a living book in the spring and summer of 2002, I began reading some Christian books--Lee Strobel, Bill Hybels, Brennan Manning, John Eldredge, as I recall.  But when I was on a Campus Crusade Summer Project in Ocean City, NJ, in 2003, I was introduced to John Piper's book Desiring God: Meditations of a Christian Hedonist (Multnomah).  It seemed like every Crusade staff member had read it, and lots of students were talking about it.  I borrowed someone's copy and read it every week while sitting at the laundromat.  And it blew me away.

It wasn't so much Piper's thesis of "Christian hedonism" that jolted me--that God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him, which is what he created us for and what he demands of us.  What really struck me was how Piper handled the Bible.  He took every word with dead-seriousness, digging for every drop of truth.  He let the text of Scripture speak for itself, never trying to gloss over anything.  He chained together each word into thoughts--grammar matters!--each thought into arguments, and each argument into a God-exalting, idol-crushing weapon in the fight for our souls.  Until that point I had never listened to or read anyone who took the Bible so seriously and so joyfully.  It was ultimately Piper's handling of Scripture that made me want to dive into every book of the Bible and let God speak plainly.

Cranky Calvinists Are Not Consistent Calvinists

I'm fortunate to belong to a Presbyterian church where Calvinism is the norm, not the exception.  But after hearing that some people at our old EFCA church in Illinois were raising a ruckus against those who aren't persuaded of Calvinism, the thought hit me: If you're really a Calvinist, your own theology dictates that no one can learn spiritual truth unless the Spirit reveals it to them.  That is, in essence, the implication of "total depravity" as well as God's sovereignty in all things (see 1 Cor. 2:14).  "When we know something, it is because God decided to let us know it, either by Scripture or by nature.  Our knowledge, then, is initiated by another.  Our knowledge is a result of grace."*

So if you're a Calvinist and you encounter others who aren't persuaded of the same doctrines you are, you have no choice but to be kind and gentle toward them.  You can respectfully explain from Scripture why you're convinced of its validity, and you can pray for them to be enlightened by God.  But to quarrel or demand their conversion to your perspective--however biblically accurate it might be--demonstrates that you don't live out the theology you preach.  "And the Lord's servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness.  God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth" (2 Tim. 2:25).

We would all do well to think and act this way.

_____________

*John M. Frame, The Doctrine of the Knowledge of God (Presbyterian & Reformed, 1987), p. 23.  Probably the most challenging and yet one of the most rewarding books I've ever read.  The first chapter about God's covenant lordship is utterly remarkable.  Thanks, Dr. Griffith.

Whose orthodoxy is it?

A recent issue of Christianity Today magazine examined the rise of Calvinism in an article titled, "Young, Restless, and Reformed." Rallying around the likes of John Piper and John MacArthur (at least as much as they can be considered confessionally Reformed), the theology of "Calvinism" has been growing in evangelical circles. But not everyone is pleased by this. Scot McKnight says this about the so-called "Neo-Reformed" in a few recent posts at the BeliefNet blog (part 1; part 2):

They think the only legitimate and the only faithful evangelicals are Reformed. Really Reformed. In other words, they are "confessing" evangelicals. The only true evangelical is a Reformed evangelical. They are more than happy to call into question the legitimacy and fidelity of any evangelical who doesn't believein classic Reformed doctrines, like double predestination.

Whether or not Reformed Protestants actually believe about "double predestination" what everyone else thinks they do--a gross caricature in my estimate--I find McKnight's criticisms a sharp rebuke to folks like me. You see, I would consider my theological understandings most in conformity with the Reformed tradition. What I think McKnight labels as "Reformed theology" is really the mislabeled "five points of Calvinism," better known as the "doctrines of grace." Granted, this has little to do with the meat of real Reformed theology, which is that all of God's dealings with humanity are subsumed under one of two overarching covenants: a covenant of works and a covenant of grace.

In trying to defend the gospel, though, do we really need the "doctrines of grace"? Are they themselves essential to the gospel--so much so that if someone doesn't adhere to them he has bastardized the message of Christ and is not a true "evangelical"?

In short--yes and no. For starters, it was Lutherans during the 16th-century Reformation who were first called "evangelical," coming from the Latin evangel, or "gospel." Oops. (Granted, Reformed theology during the 16th and 17th centuries looked a whole lot more like Lutheranism than it does now.) Without being too minimalist or vague, here is what I consider essential to the gospel. (I hope you will see that, unlike some versions that are merely propositions or "points," the gospel is really a story in history.)

1. God created the world "very good" and man--Adam and Eve--in his image, for the goal of wholehearted fellowship with and enjoyment of God himself.


2. Through the deceptive agency of Satan, Adam exercised distrust and rebellion and brought God's curse of death--both physical and spiritual--upon all his progeny, that is, all of mankind. All of humanity is covenantally represented "in Adam" and are therefore under sin's guilt, shame, and power. Though God still requires all persons to fully obey God's moral law, they cannot do so and under just condemnation.


3. God graciously promised to provide a Redeemer in whom man would be rescued from sin, and through whom God would reign in righteousness to bring blessing and life to a world dead in sin. (*Addition: These blessings were originally pledged in Eden and then to Abraham and his offspring, later to be given to all persons who shared in Abraham's faith.)


4. Because of man's inability to effect his own restoration through works, God himself lovingly and mercifully took on human flesh in the person of Jesus Christ to achieve the obedience he required from man and to become an unblemished substitute to bear in his own death God's holy and just punishment for man's sin. This loving sacrifice reconciled sinful man to God.


5. Christ's was vindicated by God at his resurrection, and he now reigns from heaven to give his Spirit to all who would repent of their works, futility, and pride, and turn to him for salvation. Such persons are now, by the Spirit, given new birth "in" or "into Christ," are forgiven and declared righteous in him, and receive as a free gift the life Christ himself earned by his obedience.


6. Spiritual fellowship with Christ now transforms believers into a truer image of God.


7. Christ will return physically and visibly before the sight of all the world, and all persons will be raised bodily. Christ will condemn unbelievers to eternal torment and to welcome believers into eternal bliss in the kingdom of God--a new world which is again "very good" where we will honor and enjoy God unendingly.

The Reformed "doctrines of grace" do help to clarify these points and add depth and meaning. But this gospel goes a long way even without such beneficial clarifications. This message is our center. What I think the Heidelberg Catechism or Westminster Confession or Canons of Dordrecht do for us (and why they're ultimately necessary) is that they teach us to place saving agency--and thus all boasting and thanksgiving and honor and praise--squarely with God himself and God alone. They unpack more fully the message that "God saves sinners." We still have much the same gospel. It's just that without the Reformed lens on Scripture we wouldn't know how much praise and credit to really ascribe to God for the salvation we now have. We wouldn't know as well the security with which we lie in God's love and power.

In one sense, the Reformation's theology could be summed up as "Salvation belongs to the Lord; damnation belongs to man." It's a story of two cities, two mediators, two destinies, two ways to be human. So what the church really needs right now is not so much explicit, confessional Reformed orthodoxy, but finely tuned Law-Gospel sensors. We need pastors who are able to rightly able to expose how futile is our merit and how great and continual is our need for justification and life. And such pastors will also be able to lead us to the One in whom this justification and life is freely given.

Why Are Calvinists So Negative?

Ted clued me in to a brief commentary by John Piper titled "Why Are Calvinists So Negative?" Piper, a pastor of Bethlehem Baptist Church in Minneapolis, is a self-declared "seven-point Calvinist" (!).

Read it here.

Although I think a better title would be, "Why are Calvinists Often Perceived as Negative?," I think that there's a lot of value in what he says. I think Piper's comments are apropos (yes, Olivia, there's that word again) and frank, given his own stance on soteriology. His three main reasons why Calvinists can be perceived as negative are:

1) The doctrines of grace have an intellectual coherence that attracts logic-oriented people, who tend to operater more in the realm of the mind than of the heart. Therefore they (we) can often be less people-sensitive and, consequently, argumentative.

2) Upon seeing the "doctrines of grace" in the Bible--which really are there, I believe--Calvinists can become upset that they were never taught this stuff their whole lives in the church. They're upset they missed out, and they can be angry that other pastors and churches failed to clearly set forth the wonders of dead people made alive.

3) They try to convince others of the truths they so cherish. The problem is, they're not always tactful and gentle about it, thinking that "converts" can be made by argumentation rather than by the Holy Spirit. (Piper does add, though, that others are just as sinful, that is, sinfully reluctant to acknowledge the teachings of Scripture.)

I that any way we cut it, anyone who takes a stand for his convictions--theological, political, economic, or whatever--will be unpopular. No one likes to be challenged, and ideas are easy to avoid if they're mere transient, flimsy opinions. But inasmuch as we are in fact able to know the Scriptures through the gracious breath of God's Holy Spirit interpreting his Word to us, the fact is--and it's difficult for me to admit this--we now see only "in a mirror dimly." We know the God of grace and the unveiling of his mystery only by incomplete, imperfect prophecies. Only when we are taken home to glory shall we know face to face. (See 1 Corinthians 13:8-13.) Until then, let us rest content with the tensions of Scripture--in hope!

The Canons of Dort and the Perseverance of the Saints

So it is not by their own merits or strength but by God’s undeserved mercy that they [those who are beloved before time; Romans 8:28-30] neither forfeit faith and grace totally nor remain in their downfalls to the end and are lost. With respect to themselves this not only could easily happen, but also undoubtedly would happen; but with respect to God it cannot possibly happen, since his plan cannot be changed, his promise cannot fail, the calling according to his purpose cannot be revoked, the merit of Christ as well as his interceding and preserving cannot be nullified, and the sealing of the Holy Spirit can neither be invalidated nor wiped out.

-- The Canons of Dort, point 5, article 8

Preserved for God's pleasure

If you read my previous post, you might mistakenly come to think that God cherishes and preserves us because of something inherently worthwhile within us. Perhaps you might think, “God longs for me so much; he needs me to be happy and whole.” There is a degree of truth to that. But the Bible will not allow us to think that salvation has to do with God’s delight in man. Rather, all of redemption happens because of God’s delight in himself. All of history unfolds from God and for God. His people were created, are being redeemed, and will be glorified for the sake of his own delight—just as others will be passed over and left in just judgment and perdition for the same reasons (though we cannot probe too deeply into such mysteries or wag a finger at God in blame).

The first description of mankind, indeed, the goal and purpose for his being, is to be the image of God (Gen. 1:26-27). The human race was created for the purpose of reflecting God back to himself, like a mirror. The image is not God himself; but in the image God sees himself. [1] Sadly, that image was marred and corrupted by Adam’s willing fall into sin.

We later learn of the true Man, the perfectly obedient human who shines with beauty everywhere that fallen Adam is dull: Jesus the Son. He is spoken of as the consummate image of God in all his glory.

The God of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. (2 Cor. 4:4)

He is the image of the invisible God. (Col. 1:15)

He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature. (Heb. 1:3)

How is it that Jesus bears his Father’s own image? It is because in Jesus, as the image (Greek eikon), God himself dwells and is manifested. “For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him [Christ]” (Col. 1:19 NIV). God sees his own reflection and nature stamped on his Son and rejoices—for there is no one more glorious or beautiful or admirable than God himself. Therefore, God cannot fail to take great pleasure in his beloved, image-bearing Son.

But the good news is that this image doesn’t dwell in some esoteric, disembodied, Gnostic Christ; it dwells in the Word made flesh. “For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily” (Col. 2:9). And in our union with Christ, we as humans are also definitively found in this bodily Eikon. “In him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him” (vv. 9-10). [2]

The great news of our sanctification and recreation is that in Christ, we come to see and know God truly. Thus we are transformed into his image from one degree of glory to another. “You . . . have put on the new self [literally “new man,” that is, Jesus], which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator” (Col. 3:10; cf. Rom. 8:29; 2 Cor. 3:18; Eph. 4:24). God has reclaimed us for himself so that we will reflect his glory back to him (Rom. 8:29). And that we shall do (1 John 3:2)!

Because we’re saved to bear God’s image, our progress in holiness in time, as well as our final sinless glorification in eternity, are absolutely assured. As God’s delight is, above all things, in himself, he cannot but find the consummate of all joys in his own image and nature. The letter to the Ephesians tells that we are blessed in Christ “according to the good pleasure of his [God’s] will” (1:5, 9) and that all might result in “the praise of his glory.” The chief aim in all God’s saving works is his own pleasure and joy—and there can be none greater than pleasure in himself. Because our glorification involves our complete re-imaging of God, it is as certain as God’s gladness in his own image. We have a sure hope! “Therefore do not throw away your confidence, which as a great reward” (Heb. 10:35).

____________________

[1] For a concise but helpful explanation of this, check out chapter 7 of John Frame’s introduction to systematic theology, Salvation Belongs to the Lord (Phillipsburg: P&R, 2006).

[2] In case you needed another reason to defend the true deity and true humanity of Jesus, here surely is one.

You have need of perseverance

“You have need of perseverance,” the author of the letter to the Hebrews urges his audience (10:36). But why?

This past weekend during the first week of class, we were talking about the truth that God saves sinners. (This teaching is put forth in what has somewhat unfortunately become called the Five Points of Calvinism.) When we were talking about the doctrine of the Preservation of the Elect (a.k.a. Perseverance of the Saints), Dr. Griffith asked us, “Why is perseverance in faith necessary? Why can’t we just be justified at some point upon making a ‘decision for Christ’ and then live as we please?”

The question stumped me somewhat. But then I realized this: The very nature of faith and salvation demands it. How so? Because God’s saving work—not only in what happens to us, but also the prize we receive—is fellowship (union; Greek koinonia) with Christ. “God . . . has called you into fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ our Lord” (1 Cor. 1:9). Salvation is, by its very nature, a relationship. And we exercise this relationship by a life of obedient faith in the Messiah’s sufficiency as Savior and Mediator and his supremacy as Lord and King. “Believers are called into the fellowship of Christ and fellowship means communion," explains John Murray. "The life of faith is one of living union and communion with the exalted and ever-present Redeemer” [1]. As long as we have salvation, we must have a humble, repentant faith; the presence of God’s gracious in-Christ redemption can never be divorced from trust in him. So if we are to inherit eternal life, we must have an eternal faith.

But this is glorious news, comforting news, filling me with a “joy unspeakable and full of glory." Left on our own, the demand for persevering faith would be but “dismay and Christless dread” [2]. But we forget: it is the Triune God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—with whom we have fellowship; it is to a Person we are united. Salvation does not exist as an abstraction or a philosophical construct; it is not a lofty idea or an mechanical process. It is a gracious covenantal bond between a Shepherd and the flock under his care, a Bridegroom and his bride, a Father and his son, a Lord and his servant. The word used throughout the Scriptures for this is chesed, a word so full of meaning that English translations fail to pin it down. Try as they might—“unfailing love” (NIV), “steadfast love” (ESV), “lovingkindness” (NASB), “loyal love” or “merciful love” (The Message)—they can but dance around it. Perhaps only the tongues of angels are fit for its expression.

So we’re not stuck to persevere on our own. We have the full backing and upholding and undying, self-binding love of the very heart of God himself. I cannot stress enough that salvation belongs a Person. His name is Everlasting Father, whose desires and commitments are never fickle and never revoked. His name is Almighty God and King of Kings, wielding omnipotent power and authority to crush all enemies and secure the future of his loved ones. His name is Compassionate Priest, who sympathizes with us, deals tenderly with us in our weaknesses, and who ever lives to make intercession for us (Rom. 8:34; Heb. 7:25). His name is Advocate, Counselor, and Pledge, an indwelling guarantee who keeps us secure and breathes into our hearts his very own life and glory.

"Our Lord Jesus Christ . . . will keep you strong to the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God, who has called you into fellowship with his Son Christ Jesus our Lord, is faithful." (1 Cor. 1:8-9)

____________________

[1] John Murray, Redemption Accomplished and Applied (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1955) 169. Murray continues beautifully: “The life of faith is the life of love, and the life of love is the life of fellowship, or mystic communion with him who ever lives to make intercession for his people and who can be touched with the feeling of our infirmities. It is a fellowship with him who has an inexhaustible reservoir of sympathy with his people’s temptations, afflictions, and infirmities because he was tempted in all points like as they were, yet without sin. The life of faith cannot be that of cold metallic assent. It must have the passion and warmth of love and communion because communion with God is the crown and apex of true religion. ‘Truly our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ’ (1 John 1:3)” (Ibid., 169-70). So much for calling Calvinists cold, dour, mechanical folk!

[2] Ibid., 165.

Baptism in the Reformed confessions

So far I have described baptism's function as a sign and seal of the new covenant promises. Perhaps a few relevant, if redundant, quotes from various Reformed confessions and catechisms would be helpful at this point.


From the Heidelberg Catechism:

Question 66: What are sacraments?
Sacraments are holy signs and seals for us to see. They were instituted by God so that by our use of them he might make us understand more clearly the promise of the gospel, and might put his seal on that promise. And this is God's gospel promise: to forgive us our sins and give us eternal life by grace alone because of Christ's one sacrifice finished on the cross.

Question 69: How does baptism remind you and assure you that Christ's one sacrifice on the cross is for you personally?
In this way: Christ instituted this outward washing and with it gave the promise that, as surely as water washes away the dirt from the body, so certainly his blood and his Spirit wash away my soul's impurity, in other words, all my sins.

From the Belgic Confession:

Article 33: The Sacraments
We believe that our good God, mindful of our crudeness and weakness, has ordained sacraments for us to seal his promises in us, to pledge his good will and grace toward us, and also to nourish and sustain our faith.

He has added these to the Word of the gospel to represent better to our external senses both what he enables us to understand by his Word and what he does inwardly in our hearts, confirming in us the salvation he imparts to us.

For they are visible signs and seals of something internal and invisible, by means of which God works in us through the power of the Holy Spirit. So they are not empty and hollow signs to fool and deceive us, for their truth is in Jesus Christ, without whom they would be nothing.

Article 34: The Sacrament of Baptism
. . . Having abolished circumcision, which was done with blood, [Jesus Christ] established in its place the sacrament of baptism. By it we are received into God's church and set apart from all other people and alien religions, that we may be dedicated entirely to him, bearing his mark and sign. It also witnesses to us that he will be our God forever, since he is our gracious Father. . . .

In this way [that is, water baptism] he signifies to us that just as water washes away the dirt of the body when it is poured on us and also is seen on the body of the baptized when it is sprinkled on him, so too the blood of Christ does the same thing internally, in the soul, by the Holy Spirit. It washes and cleanses it from its sins and transformed us from being the children of wrath into the children of God. . . .

So ministers, as far as their work is concerned, give us the sacraments and what is visible, but our Lord gives [to those whom he has foreknown] what the sacrament signifies--namely the invisible gifts and graces; washing, purifying, and cleansing our souls of all filth and unrighteousness; renewing our hearts and filling them with all comfort; giving us true assurance of his fatherly goodness; clothing us with the "new man" and stripping off the "old," with all its works.

From the Westminster Confession of Faith:

Sacraments are holy signs and seals of the covenant of grace, immediately instituted by God, to represent Christ, and his benefits; and to confirm our interest in him: as also, to put a visible difference between those that belong unto the church, and the rest of the world; and solemnly to engage them to the service of God in Christ, according to his Word. (27:1)

There is, in every sacrament, a spiritual relation, or sacramental union, between the sign and the thing signified: whence it comes to pass, that the names and effects of the one are attributed to the other. (27:2)

The grace which is exhibited in or by the sacraments rightly used, is not conferred by any power in them; neither doth the efficacy of a sacrament depend upon the piety or intention of him that doth administer it: but upon the work of the Spirit, and the word of institution, which contains . . . a promise of benefit to worthy receivers. (27:3)

Baptism is a sacrament of the new testament, ordained by Jesus Christ, not only for the solemn admission of the party baptized into the visible church; but also, to be unto him a sign and seal of the covenant of grace, of his ingrafting into Christ, of regeneration, of remission of sins, and of his giving up unto God, through Jesus Christ, to walk in newness of life. . . . (28:1)

Although it be a great sin to contemn or neglect this ordinance, yet grace and salvation are not so inseparably annexed unto it, as that no person can be regenerated, or saved, without it; or, that all that are baptized are undoubtedly regenerated. (28:5)

The efficacy of Baptism is not tied to that moment of time wherein it is administered; yet, notwithstanding, by the right use of this ordinance, the grace promised is not only offered, but really exhibited, and conferred, by the Holy Ghost, to such (whether of age or infants) as that grace belongeth unto, according to the counsel of God's own will, in his appointed time. (28:6)

Baptism V: A visible gospel "signed, sealed, and delivered" to the believer

Because these great blessings secured by Christ and offered through grace alone are signified in baptism—complete cleansing from unrighteousness, the renewal and fellowship of the Holy Spirit, access to God, and empowerment for service—we can say that baptism is a “visible gospel” illustrating the promises of God to all who believe. But this is the key point: just as OT Israel only received the promises and remained in God’s favor by faith that led to obedience, so too do only those undergo baptism receive the promises by faith. Circumcision represented a transformation of the heart that led one to love God and obey him (Deut. 10:16; 30:6; Ezek. 36:24-27). Those who received circumcision in their flesh alone were considered “uncircumcised” and rejected by God (Jer. 9:25-26; cf. Rom. 2:25-29), because this circumcision in body also pointed to the need for a circumcised heart. In the same way, we need to see baptism both pointing to our need for the renewal of our hearts and love for God, and also as a promise that he will graciously give us his Holy Spirit who will give us obedient love.

Just as the gospel message can be rejected in its verbal form—and this is certainly the fullest—it, too, can be rejected in its watery form. For those who are baptized but do not believe, baptism is a watery judgment like the flood in Noah’s day (1 Pet. 3:19-21). Likewise the Israelites were "baptized into Moses" at the Red Sea, yet many grumbled in discontent and fell into apostasy and sin and never reached the Promised Land (1 Cor. 10:1-5). This may be at root in the warnings in Hebrews 6 and 10; covenant members who were baptized and participated in the spiritual life of the church nonetheless took a path of disbelief and rejection of Christ, and so stand condemned. Like the foreskin of Israelites with uncircumcised hearts, so too unbelievers die in their own blood.

This ought to show clearly that reception of the covenant sign does not automatically ensure reception of the covenant promises; faith is always required by God. Those who trusted in their national heritage as Jews and circumcised “children of Abraham” but were filled with self-love and produced no fruit were shut out from the kingdom of heaven. So too will all baptized people who trust only in the sign of baptism and not the Person given therein will hear the words, “Away from me, you evildoers. I never knew you!”

But all that is to overlook the chief function of baptism in the NT. Peter’s main point is to emphasize the grace given to us, that “baptism now saves you . . . through the resurrection of Jesus Christ” (3:21). Jesus rose from the dead and secured eternal life for all who would trust in him and repent of their sins, seeking their righteousness in his fulfilled obedience alone and their forgiveness in his atoning death alone. In this way do all who “appeal to God for a good conscience” receive eternal life in his gracious favor.

Baptism thus ought to strengthen our faith by assuring us that we are in indeed washed clean from sin and made new in Christ. When the believer looks upon his baptism, he sees the gift of God in bringing him into his people as a “child of God” instead of leaving him out in the world as a “child of wrath” where Christ is not named, and he is thus assured of God’s fellowship. The believer sees that promised love and blessings came first, even when he was still a powerless infant or perhaps a new believer still weak in faith and strong in sin. Salvation is of God’s initiative and work, especially when viewed in terms of rebirth (no one gives birth to himself). And we see in baptism God’s gracious calling, to which we rightly respond with a clean conscience and full assurance of faith, having had our bodies washed with pure water (1 Pet. 3:21; Heb. 10:19-22). In baptism the believer sees and trusts the fact that the death of Christ was not withheld from him, but that he was plunged into this death, justified from sin, and consequently raised with him. The believer is assured that he has been reborn of the Holy Spirit, and that the Spirit makes him God’s son, secures his inheritance, and enables his sanctification. He is assured in baptism that he is set apart to God for priestly service—with priestly access! And, lest we forget that warnings are also blessings, we are guided by God in baptism to a knowledge both of sin we are to avoid and the faithful, rescuing Lord which we are to cling to.

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Of course, I've been continually referring to this assurance given to the believer. I'll ever stand by sola fide; and I trust you'll see the evidence of that here. The believer can know that God has given him all these blessings of purification from sin, forgiveness, access to his throne of grace, and the Counselor's fellowship and empowering for a life of love-and-holiness. How so? Because all of these are truly given to the believer. Everything pledged and portrayed in baptism is made good in the life of the believer--that is to say, in the lives of God's elect. Salvation is only for those whom he has foreknown, those who are beloved before time. (Do you get it now?) Hear these words of the Westminster Confession of Faith:

The efficacy of Baptism is not tied to that moment of time wherein it is administered; yet, notwithstanding, by the right use of this ordinance, the grace promised is not only offered, but really exhibited, and conferred, by the Holy Ghost, to such (whether of age or infants) as that grace belongeth unto [i.e., the elect], according to the counsel of God's own will, in his appointed time. (28.6, italics added)

God does demand faith for the reception of his promises. In fact, salvation (the future sense before Christ's judgment seat) is contingent upon a faith that perseveres. But the beauty of God's grace is that everything he requires of us, this he himself provides freely, even repentance and faith. As the old song goes:

Come ye sinners, come and welcome,
God's free bounty glorify:
True belief and true repentance,
Every grace that brings you nigh.

Let us praise him for his great grace and trust in it all the more!

Baptism IV: "Circumcision in the NT"

Following on the heels of last week's post III on circumcision in the OT, I'm going to keep on fleshing out my current beliefs about the Christian rite of water baptism. As you read, please consider that I am only hoping to clarify for myself and others what I believe and understand; I am not trying to develop a comprehensive theology of anything. And I hope to do this all without being like those who, according to St. Paul, "have wandered away into vain discussion, desiring to be teachers . . . without understanding either what they are saying or the things about which they make confident assertions" (1 Tim. 1:7).
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In Part III I hoped to show that circumcision in the Old Testament was a sign and seal of the Abrahamic covenant. Receiving circumcision also marked off those belonging to Israel and set them apart to a holy life.

The New Testament speaks much the same way about baptism and indicates that it replaces circumcision under the new covenant, which is for all peoples, Gentile and Jew alike. What did new converts do as soon as they heard the gospel of the God of Abraham and followed in his footsteps of faith? They were baptized (e.g., Acts 2:38-39; 8:12-13). What was the outward event that represented consecration to the Lord and a clean heart? Baptism. When the Ethiopian worshiper of the Lord (who read the Old Testament and considered himself among Israel by traveling to Jerusalem to observe the festivals) came to faith in Christ and realized the fulfillment of the new covenant promises, what happened? He was baptized (Acts 8:36-39)! Like foreigners in the past wishing to join themselves to God’s covenant community, who received circumcision, here and in Acts 10:45-48 Gentiles instead received the sign of baptism. Both circumcision and baptism signify God’s covenants, mark inclusion into his covenant people (the church, the body of Christ; 1 Cor. 12:13), and place persons under God’s authority and ownership (this ownership and authority is likely what is meant by being baptized “in [or into] the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit”; Matt. 28:19).

Why baptism with water? Why not circumcision any more? (1) Blood-shedding was now done with, finished. Jesus’ shed blood has sufficed, and no more does blood need to be shed to point us to God’s redemption. Jesus’ death was referred to as a “circumcision” (Col. 2:11; note the link between circumcision and baptism here). (2) Water is highly illustrative of new covenant realities. Water is an agent of cleansing, showing the work of Christ to purify us from our sins. Special bathing made both priests and others ritually clean to approach God. Water was used in consecration to priesthood, and we are all now a “kingdom of priests” (cf. 1 Pet. 2:9; Rev. 1:6) who all have access to God to offer works of service. Water is linked to the “outpouring” of the Holy Spirit, who creates life and renewal (Ezek. 36:24-27; Joel 2:28 [Acts 2:]; Isa. 44:3-5; Rom 5:5).

Baptism III: Cutting a covenant, entering Israel

As my friend Ryan wisely advises, “in any attempt to hammer out a theology of ‘whatever’ from the New Testament we have to listen for the Old Testament echoes.” We can’t understand what a band of Jewish men believed to be such wonderful News if we have no idea what they believed or what hope they were looking for—“hope in the promise made by God to our fathers” (Acts 26:6-7). And it must suffice for now to say that the summary of the Bible is the story of God’s covenant promise(s) to rescue a cursed and estranged world from sin and become the God of a redeemed people. Abraham received the promise that his seed would receive an inheritance and become a great nation of blessing for all nations. Being part of Israel, where God’s blessings lived and were promised (see Rom. 9:4-5; Eph. 2:12, 19; 3:6), meant being a “son of Abraham” (e.g., Luke 3:8).

Many biblical covenants between God and men have some sort of visual “sign” and “seal” accompanying them. The Noahic covenant was given the rainbow to show that God has made a promise not to curse the world through rain ever again; it is a sign pointing to a promise, and it is a seal guaranteeing its reality. It’s like God saying, “See that rainbow? I’ve put it in the sky both to remind you of my promise (sign) and to guarantee its fulfillment, because as surely as it is real and shown to you, so too is my promise real for you (a seal).”

In Genesis 17 Abraham is told to circumcise himself and his whole household: “You shall be circumcised in the flesh of your foreskins, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and you” (17:11). In other words, forgetful and fickle Abraham could look at his circumcised body and see in it God’s promise to bless him and make from his seed a great nation. In like fashion, today we give wedding rings to illustrate (as a sign) a covenant between a husband and wife. When a woman sees the ring on her finger, she is reminded of her husband’s vows that he will love her and be faithful to her at all times. Likewise, that ring is a seal in that when it’s put on the bride, the promises are not only pledged but enacted; the man now has become her husband, and the ring assures her of this.

Because this covenant was not with Abraham alone, but with all his offspring, God demanded that his whole household, including infants (Note this!) and foreigners, be circumcised (17:12). God’s promise was to bring about blessing through Abraham’s children—a blessing that would one day be for “all the families of the earth” (12:3). Even in later years, after the Exodus from slavery in Egypt, when a foreigner joined the people of Israel, he was to receive circumcision (Exod. 12:48). Circumcision was therefore both a sign of God’s covenant and a mark of inclusion into the covenant people of Israel.

But receiving the “sign of circumcision” and entering Israel also meant being consecrated to the Lord and living under his authority. It meant separating oneself from the unclean practices of the nations, trusting in the Lord’s character as the great I AM, and obediently following his Law. Belonging to God to inherit his promises also necessitated obedience; hence the circumcised people of Israel were a “covenant community” separated from the nations and sanctified unto him. They were thus called to trust in God and love him unreservedly. Because of this, cleansing and circumcision were often used synonymously (cf. Deut. 30:6), and “uncircumcised” and “unclean” were used the same way (cf. 1 Sam. 14:6; Isa. 52:1; Ezek. 44:9). Being both circumcised in heart and flesh were required of God (see Rom. 2:25-29); the former alone would not suffice. Rather, the former pointed to the need for the latter and encouraged the Israelite to live in faith.

In Romans 4:11, we also see that circumcision is also said to be a “sign” and a “seal,” guaranteeing to Abraham the reception of the promises given to him. “He received the sign of circumcision as a seal of the righteousness that he had by faith while he was still uncircumcised.” Paul’s point is that it isn’t circumcision or any ritual that justifies anyone; bearing the marks alone of inclusion into Israel did nothing (again an ex opera operato presumption). Rather, it was certainly faith that caused Abraham to be reckoned righteous before God (the argument of Romans 4). But he does teach that the reception of circumcision guaranteed to Abraham the righteousness credited to him on account of his faith (4:3; cf. Gen. 15:6).

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In the next posts, I will attempt to explain how baptism is the New Covenant replacement of circumcision, and what that means for our lives.

God saves sinners

In a few weeks' time I'll begin my first (and hopefully not only) seminary class, Introduction to Pastoral and Theological Studies (a.k.a. Reformed boot camp) at Reformed Theological Seminary. One of the course's themes is that God saves sinners. That is, that the Trinity wholly begins, achieves, and completes the deliverance and glorification of a hopelessly corrupt and wickedly vile people lovingly and freely chosen to exist by God, for God.

The first reading for our class is J. I. Packer's introductory essay to John Owen's The Death of Death in the Death of Christ (1648). Owen's treatise is considered one of the most complete works ever on the saving work of Christ and fully promotes the truth and excellency of what has unfortunately been called "limited atonement." I've been very on-again, off-again regarding this notion--that Jesus only effectively died for a finite and fixed number of people whom God has, in his ineffable wisdom, marked out for glory before the universe even began. But consider this paragraph from Packer's preface:

Calvinism that insists on taking seriously the biblical assertions that God saves, and that He saves those whom He has chosen to save, and that He saves them by grace without works, so that no man may boast, and that Christ is given to them as a perfect Saviour, and that their whole salvation flows to them from the Cross, and that the work of redeeming them was finished on the Cross. It is Calvinism that gives due honour to the Cross. When the Calvinist sings:

“There is a green hill far away, Without a city wall, Where the dear Lord was crucified, Who died to save us all; He died the we might be forgiven, He died to make us good; That we might go at last to Heaven, Saved by His precious blood.”

—he means it. He will not gloss the italicised statements by saying that God’s saving purpose in the death of His Son was a mere ineffectual wish, depending for its fulfilment on man’s willingness to believe, so that for all God could do Christ might have died and none been saved at all. He insists that the Bible sees the Cross as revealing God’s power to save, not His impotence. Christ did not win a hypothetical salvation for hypothetical believers, a mere possibility of salvation for any who might possibly believe, but a real salvation for His own chosen people. His precious blood really does “save us all”; the intended effects of His self-offering do in fact follow, just because the Cross was what it was. Its saving power does not depend on faith being added to it; its saving power is such that faith flows from it. The Cross secured the full salvation of all for whom Christ died. “God forbid,” therefore, “that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." (Emphasis added)

Amazing to think, eh? Not easy--but amazing grace indeed.

Happy Reformation Day!

In celebration of Reformation Day (October 31, 1517, was when Luther posted his Ninety-Five Theses to the cathedral door in Wittenberg), I thought a few quotes celebrating the greatness of justification by faith alone apart from works would be apropos.

Now when a man has learned through the commandments to recognize his helplessness and is distressed about how he might satisfy the law—since the law must be fulfilled so that not a jot or tittle shall be lost, otherwise man will be condemned without hope—then, being truly humbled and reduced to nothing in his own eyes, he finds in himself nothing whereby he may be justified or saved. Here the second part of Scripture comes to our aid, namely, the promises of God which declare the glory of God, saying, “If you wish to fulfill the law and not covet, as the law commands, come, believe in Christ in whom grace, righteousness, peace, liberty, and all things are promised you. If you believe, you shall have all things; if you do not believe, you shall lack all things.” That which is impossible for you to accomplish by trying to fulfill all the works of the law—many and useless as they all are—you will accomplish quickly and easily through faith.

– Martin Luther, On Christian Liberty

It is clear that the justification which is unto eternal life Paul regards as consisting in our being constituted righteous, in receiving righteousness as a free gift, and this righteousness is none other than the righteousness of the one man Jesus Christ; it is the righteousness of his obedience. . . . Justification is thereby a constitutive act whereby the righteousness of Christ is imputed to our account and we are accordingly accepted as righteous in God’s sight.

– John Murray, Redemption Accomplished and Applied

The specific quality of faith is that it receives and rests upon another, in this case Christ and his righteousness.

– Murray, Ibid.

Triune intercession

It never fails. Whether I pray or read my Bible in the evening, I almost invariably fall asleep in fatigue. The same happens in the morning before I get leave for school. In these stressful, needy times--and when isn't it the "time of need" (Hebrews 4:15)?--I feel like I need to pray even more than usual. I need God to guide me, support me, strengthen me every day, all day. Yet I can scarcely do so in prayer. Whenever I quiet down that much, I just fall asleep or I can't focus.

But in his goodness the Holy Spirit recently brought to my mind a vital and wondrous truth: the fullness of the triune Godhead is praying for me. In Romans 8 it says that in my times of weakness, exasperation, even coma, "the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words" (v. 26). How can the Spirit's prayers for those whom he breathes life ever fail? "And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God [the Father]" (v. 27). Not only does the Spirit himself pray to the Father, but the Father has gladly revealed his will to the Spirit, giving him what to pray for each of his adopted children!

What is more, the Anointed Son himself, approved and vindicated by God in his everlasting reign at the Father's right hand, also prays for us without end. "Christ Jesus is the one who died--more than that, who was raised--who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?" (vv.34-35a).

In a miracle of mercy, the whole Trinity is involved in unceasing prayer for me, upholding me. There is no worry, confusion, or disagreement among the three Persons. The Father has revealed his will, which is prayed by the Spirit and which was and is accomplished in the Son, who ever lives as our Advocate (parakletos, 1 John 2:1-2; used in John 14, 16 of the Spirit). I need not worry that I fall asleep in prayer; God himself prays for me!

You have been my help,
and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.
My soul clings to you;
your right hand upholds me.
(Psalm 63:7-8)

Grace and unconfessed sin

A recent episode of Michael Horton’s excellent, truth-saturated radio broadcast The White Horse Inn investigates the question “What happens if you die with unconfessed sin?” This question, perhaps more than anything else, tormented my heart for years and was the key thing that led me to rejoice in the work of Christ and his complete sufficiency during the winter of 2002.

Perhaps it came in part to spending every other Sunday of my youth attending Roman Catholic worship services. Maybe it was also in part from the yeast of the bastardized gospel taught by Charles Finney and later Wesleyan/Holiness tradition teaching—evangelicalism without the evangel. But I had this belief that on account of Jesus’ sacrifice upon the Cross I was forgiven of all my sins, that is to say, all the sins that I had confessed. I was plagued by the question, What if I died with unconfessed sin? Surely such transgressions would remain unblotted from my record, and therefore I would lack the perfection God demanded, left to an eternity of conscious agony! I trembled to think that I might die suddenly in a car accident and not have time to ask for God’s forgiveness. I asked God for a slow death, so that I would be mindful to be continually in prayer for all my transgressions. Can you imagine such “slavery to the fear of death” (Hebrews 2:15)? “Woe to you, because you load people down with burdens they can hardly carry, and you yourselves will not lift one finger to help them” (Luke 11:46).

But then God mercifully put in my path two real studs, Greg King and Bryan Kulczycki, who invited me to a Bible study in my dormitory. If it wasn’t the first study I attended, then it was shortly thereafter that we looked at Romans 5:6-8:

You see, just at the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Grace, true grace, suddenly clicked. I needed neither to be a “righteous man” already walking in holiness or even a charismatic “good man” who inspired valiant sacrifice in others. I needed only to be a powerless, ungodly sinner for God to love me. And if God loved me and all the world’s people so very much that he put forth his only beloved Son as a sufficient, wrath-bearing sacrifice while we were still sinners in deadness and rebellion, how then could unconfessed sin stand in his way? How could a few unconfessed sins or those known only to God’s all-perceiving eyes work against his love? Indeed, the truth became clear to me that “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,” once for all removing the curse of my sin in the grace of God that was “poured out on me abundantly” (1 Timothy 1:14-15).

I still didn’t quite get it—I still thought Christianity and the life of faith had a lot to do with being a good person and giving up a lot of stuff I enjoyed doing—but I found the peace of justification before God in his love (Rom. 5:1-11). Thus God’s Spirit opened my eyes to the Savior who effectively called me: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.
O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever. (Psalm 30:11-12)