No one has ever seen God, but . . .

Yesterday I was pleased to find a timely article in Christianity Today about, of all things, my most recent post's topic--how church architecture can teach about God and guide us into worship. (Well, really, it's about how the mystery of God guides us into a true knowledge of him.)

Westminster Abbey in London is one of the few places in the world that doesn't disappoint. The main part of Westminster is the cathedral: an enormous, basilica-style monastery of Gothic architecture that leaves one with a breathtaking vision of the height and depth of, if not God, at least of the worshipers' concept of God.

With the sheer amount of space between the floor and soaring vaults, from the back of the nave to the altar, as well as the complicated artistry on every wall and window, you find yourself awed by everything that speaks of the unimaginable greatness of God. You have a peculiar sense that God is very present and yet not altogether accessible. This is not an unpleasant experience; on the contrary, you realize that your idea of God has probably been domesticated and confined.

The author goes on to explain how we as Christians live in the tension of God's immanence (that he is present and accessible) and his transcendance (that he is infinitely beyond us). On one hand, God is our Creator; it is we who are finite and within his grasp, not the other way around. He remains a mystery beyond us, and at best we can only learn about him what he has himself, in his lordship over us, deigned to reveal.*

"God, the blessed and only Ruler, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone is immortal and who lives in unapproachable light, whom no one has seen or can see. To him be honor and might forever. Amen." (1 Timothy 6:15-16)

"Do you know how God controls the clouds
and makes his lightning flash?
Do you know how the clouds hang poised,
those wonders of him who is perfect in knowledge?
You who swelter in your clothes
when the land lies hushed under the south wind,
can you join him in spreading out the skies,
hard as a mirror of cast bronze?

"Tell us what we should say to him;
we cannot draw up our case because of our darkness.
Should he be told that I want to speak?
Would any man ask to be swallowed up?
Now no one can look at the sun,
bright as it is in the skies
after the wind has swept them clean.
Out of the north he comes in golden splendor;
God comes in awesome majesty.
The Almighty is beyond our reach and exalted in power;
in his justice and great righteousness, he does not oppress.
Therefore, men revere him,
for he does not have regard for any who think they are wise."
(Job 37:15-24)

On the other hand, God has in fact revealed himself. He spoke to Moses and the Patriarchs, revealed his Law, and manifested himself in storms and visions. He later spoke through his prophets. But mostly God spoke through his actions; he's known by what he does. And then there's Jesus, God-in-the-flesh.

"No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only, who is at the Father's side, has made him known." (John 1:18)

"Jesus answered: 'Don't you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, 'Show us the Father'? Don't you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you are not just my own. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work. Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me.' " (John 14:9-11)

Beyond that, God has given us his Word and the sacraments, his "visible words" to speak to us and guide us. God isn't always entirely a mystery. But then again, when we think we know his Word, we keep on finding more and more about God and his story there, never to be fully probed.

How do we capture both of these realities in our worship--not only in our church buildings, but even more so in our songs, actions, liturgy, sacraments, preaching, and the like? What would it look like to honor both of these realities and embody them in our corporate worship so that both of these aspects of God are communicated and entered into? I'd appreciate your feedback.

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*For an amazing, eye-opening discussion of God's "immanence" and "transcendance" and how it relates to our knowlege of God, see the first chapter of John Frame's book The Doctrine of the Knowledge of God.

Sacred Space

In his book Reversed Thunder: The Revelation of John and the Praying Imagination, Eugene Peterson points out that Revelation chapters 4 and 5 give us the "last word on worship." We see here that when the curtain is pulled back, and the saints are seen for who they really are. They aren't just the mundane, a bunch of folks gathered on a Sunday. They're the redeemed of the Lamb, whose real songs are in heaven, whose prayers rise like incense before the very throne of God Most High. The weekly worship services between Pentecost and Advent may be in "Ordinary Time," but they're anything but ordinary.

I am reminded too of how throughout the centuries, Christian worship often begins with a Scripture that proclaims God's majesty and who he is as the saving Triune Creator. He's no mere Deist god. And Jesus ain't our homeboy, either. We're people gathered in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit--an invocation that lets us know we're called to worship by a God not of our own making. "Thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire" (Hebrews 12:28-29).

When I lived in Istanbul I saw the remnants of Byzantine churches once glorious in splendor. Their yawning domes towered overhead, bedecked in glittering golden mosaics of the exalted, judging, reigning Christ (Christos Pantokrator). Angels fluttered up the walls toward the heavens. Myriad mosaics of Jesus' earthly ministry preached the gospel in many-colored images. Did these tell more of the glory of Constantine, Theodosius, and Justinian than of the splendor of God? Perhaps. But as I stood in their now-silent halls with the sunlight trickling in through their portals, I was reminded that I was in a holy place, and that worship is an otherworldly thing.

I know that the God of the heavens is also the God of the burning bush and of the manger. He comes to meet us in the stuff of our lives, in hiddenness and meekness. He is the God of the cross, found in poverty and suffering and meanness. Maybe Byzantium and Rome after her put the cart before the horse: the kingdom hasn't come yet. But when I found myself in these sacred spaces (which have also at times included the beauty of the forest and stream) I am transported in mystery and awe. I am reminded that there is more to God and his ways than just the brick walls and wooden paneling of my experiences and felt needs and concerns of the moment. There is a clandestine kingdom that is coming in which we worship and for which we long. There is a God whose Word and ways are above my own, and whose delights I have only begun to know (1 Corinthians 13:12). I am seated with Christ in the heavenly realms at the right hand of God (Ephesians 1:3, 20-23; 2:4-7).

I love church buildings that seek to evoke God's beauty and God's story in their design for all the reasons listed above. Many evangelical churches have too quickly cast off visual adornments as mere trappings, even idols, the form of religion without its power. How many of the beautiful church buildings are devoid of life, love, and orthodoxy? Yet the beauty is really a good thing only misused in the hands of sinners, not the culprit itself. But I'm still torn. The church is a body, a people, an organism, not an address. Its money would, I believe, more glorify God by feeding the hungry and fighting injustice and and making disciples of those in darkness than by paying for stained glass and incense. But until we recover more of a sense of awe and wonder in our worship, we'll be the ones who remain impoverished, left to feed on Jesus our Homeboy or God our Life Coach rather than on the one who "for us and for our salvation came down from heaven."

Queen of Cities

Those of you who know me know that I fell in love with a city--the city of Istanbul, Turkey, an ages-old gem whose watery beauty and mystical intrigue straddle two continents.

My friend Mark's band, Luna Roslyn, recently finished up an EP called Queen of Cities. It's sort of a musical tribute to Istanbul. You can listen to a few tracks on MySpace or download the whole EP for free at NoiseTrade. Their music is beautiful--a bit reminiscent at points of my favorite band, Anathallo--and bears a heart akin with mine: a desire for Istanbul (once Constantinople) and Turkey to shine not with bright sun on its minarets, but with the glory of God's love in Jesus Christ.

Brothers and Sisters in Christ

As we search for a church, I have actually been quite encouraged by the fact that no church is perfect, and it's okay if I don't fit in or click with people immediately. Real Christian growth in community, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer incisively points out in Life Together, means to acknowledge that I am related to others as brothers and sisters in Christ. It's important to break this down. It's more than just a cliche or terminology.

We are brothers and sisters in Christ, part of the "family of believers" (Galatians 6:10). Just as we may choose our friends but not our family, so too do we not choose with whom we will and will not have fellowship. That's God's choice, not ours. He is our Father, and we don't get a say in family membership. And what family is perfect, without awkwardness or strain? If we want a church or fellowship without these, then what we desire is something other than the church God is building by his Spirit and calling his own.

Second, we are brothers and sisters in Christ. This means that we our family and fellowship exists not because we're in a social club, but because we're members of one body--Jesus's. With his blood he has purchased us for himself and to be one with himself in glory (Acts 20:28; Revelation 5:9-10). Therefore as Christians we mysteriously find our deepest fellowship not at a concert or playing ultimate frisbee, but at the Communion table. If I'm going to find a brother, it will only be as mutual recipients of God's grace and forgiveness. If God has accepted him, who am I to look down my nose at him? The church body exists solely on account of Christ's grace and for his purposes: the glory of God in the salvation of the world. And because living for God's glory in the world, fed and sustained by the gospel, is only done through the Word and prayer, my fellowship in Christ demands that I care more about building up someone in the Word and praying for and with him.

It's easy to seek out fellowship on the basis of shared interests. And it's not bad at all to have friends who like the same music, television shows, careers, etc. But this can lead to superficial relationships, which Satan loves. Being part of the body of Christ means something else, something deeper. The grace of God and the deceit of the the world demand that, in searching for a church and in cultivating new relationships, I need to be about more than just "fitting in" or feeling comfortable. It's even okay if I don't. Because what we need aren't more buddies or pals who never rub us the wrong way, but real brothers and sisters in Christ.

From One Degree of Glory to Another

Today at Redemption Hill, pastor Rob Greene preached used the following quote from Martin Luther in a sermon about the gospel riches of our sanctification, a work of God which he is bringing to completion (2 Corinthians 3:18; 1 John 3:1-3).

This life, therefore, is not righteousness, but growth in righteousness; not health, but healing; not being, but becoming; not rest, but exercise. We are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it. The process is not yet finished, but it is going on. This is not the end, but it is the road. All does not yet gleam in glory, but all is being purified.

This made me think of Olivia's and my recent lesson about sanctification (see my earlier post "Puzzled by Sanctifiction?"). Even though it may be slow and piecemeal, it is a progressive work that has both its origin and culmination in the promised word and work of our faithful God.

* * *

No, we haven't decided upon a church yet, in case you were wondering. We know it's unrealistic to expect another University Reformed Church or New Song Church--not because those churches were perfect, but because all churches are different. We've seen both good things as well as caveats in all the churches we've visited, and the task before us is finding which body will allow us best to grow through God's Word as well as allow us to serve and build up others with the gifts we have. We're able to rest knowing that in the end it's not engaging expository preaching nor enthralling worship music which will build us up in Christ, but rather it is the Holy Spirit, who is present and at work in even the less-than-ideal churches.

Brothers of the Same Family

This morning as I read Hebrews 2:5-18, I was struck by how Jesus, the Son of God, who is the effulgence of God's own eternal glory, so gladly emptied himself to take up our cause before his Father. In a true familial solidarity far surpassing the utopian ideals imagined by Marx and others, in his incarnation and baptism Jesus bound up himself with sinful, enslaved, derelict mankind, even calling us "brothers," and suffered the agonies of temptation, rejection, shame, and death so that we might be set free from fear, death, deception, and futility and share in his place of glory and love as co-sons and co-regents before the Father.

A beautiful 15th-century Latin hymn, "O Love, How Deep" (author unknown, translated by Benjamin Webb), captures this story well.

O love, how deep, how broad, how high,
It fills the heart with ecstasy,
That God, the Son of God, should take
Our mortal form for mortals’ sake!

He sent no angel to our race
Of higher or of lower place,
But wore the robe of human frame
Himself, and to this lost world came.

For us baptized, for us He bore
His holy fast and hungered sore,
For us temptation sharp He knew;
For us the tempter overthrew.

For us He prayed; for us He taught;
For us His daily works He wrought;
By words and signs and actions thus
Still seeking not Himself, but us.

For us to wicked men betrayed,
Scourged, mocked, in purple robe arrayed,
He bore the shameful cross and death,
For us gave up His dying breath.

For us He rose from death again;
For us He went on high to reign;
For us He sent His Spirit here,
To guide, to strengthen, and to cheer.

To Him Whose boundless love has won
Salvation for us through His Son,
To God the Father, glory be
Both now and through eternity.

Imitating God

Being a high school science teacher demands a lot of patience. I mean a lot. Many students come into my room sometimes two or three years behind in math, have difficulty finding main ideas when reading, and don't know what a complete sentence is. On top of that, they're often raised in households with only one parent, who probably works two jobs and leaves the child-rearing to their teenager. Even if a steady male figure (live-in boyfriend or stepdad) is around, it's not uncommon for anger to be the sole disciplinary tool.

Yet when I ought to have compassion and patience, instead I find myself exasperated by minimal efforts, lack of prior knowledge and skills, and torpid progress. Some of my students are honestly just plain lazy. A few are even, yes, stupid. On top of that, they often want every day in class to be like an episode of CSI, yet my school lacks the funding to obtain much lab equipment which is considered pretty basic. And then--the lack of respect teens have for others and their sense of entitlement can really put me over the top.

But the gospel addresses me to live differently, to bear with my students as God has borne with us in Christ. I immediately thought of my students when I was reading Paul's letter to Titus yesterday.

Remind the people to be subject to rulers and authorities, to be obedient, to be ready to do whatever is good, to slander no one, to be peaceable and considerate, and to show true humility toward all men.
At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit. (Titus 3:1-5)

I was reminded that if it weren't for God's merciful re-creation by his Holy Spirit, I too would be in the same mess: foolish, disobedient, and ruled by self-centeredness. God didn't wait until I cleaned up my life and paid respectful attention to him before pouring out his kindness and love.

In the same way, then, I need to live out this gospel with my students. I need to encourage them and build them up instead of belittling them in exasperation. I need to be patient and considerate of their needs instead of giving up, dumbfounded. I need to be gentle and gracious with them when they disappoint me or anger me, persisting to be for them and on their side. After all, it's only when "kindness and love" appear that change happens.

"Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ forgave you. Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God" (Ephesians 4:32 - 5:2).

Cleaning House

Taking my previous post one step further, my wife brought up another sanctification analogy today. We recently moved to a new home in Richmond, Virginia; and though the house is a huge blessing, the kitchen was really dirty. Olivia has spent hours laboriously peeling back layers of film and grime. Yuck.

"As I kept cleaning," she said, "it just seemed like there was still more grime!" She made the connection that, like Christian growth, it's not like our kitchen wasn't getting cleaner; it was just that bad to begin with. As more and more of the dirt and corruption of our sin is uncovered and brought to our attention, it's not necessarily that we aren't getting "cleaner." It's just that we were even more sinful and rotten to begin with than we had ever realized. Like a bad mold, the grime of Adam's rebellion--and ours--goes so deep and fills every corner and crevice of our being--our thoughts, perceptions, attitudes, emotions, desires, words, and actions--that we need much more than just a spring cleaning (see Jesus' teaching in Matthew 12:43-45). We need the whole house to be torn down and built anew.

But thankfully we have a Savior who was a carpenter, and even more than a carpenter. "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come" (2 Corinthians 5:17).

Puzzled by sanctification?

As Olivia and I were putting together a puzzle last night, we grew frustrated by how much slower and more challenging its completion became once we had moved past putting together the straight edges, corner pieces, and areas of apparent contrast and design. In our puzzle of a beautiful Greek coastal town, large swaths of bone and azure dominated the scene. And while not as immediately striking as the shorelines, church domes, and other brightly colored structures, these areas were vital toward fleshing in the whole picture. As we found and fit in the more obvious pieces, the more obscure and less evident ones became harder and slower.

This seems so much like my own growth and maturation in Christ. God has designed that through faith and the work of the Holy Spirit (which are one and the same), Jesus Christ is to be formed within us (Galatians 4:19), and we are to be conformed to his glorious image (Romans 8:29; 2 Corinthians 3:18). In my life (and in countless others' as well, I'm sure), the basic framework of a godly life developed fairly quickly, within a few years. Just as the frame of a puzzle is the first step and gives place and order to the rest, so did the basic shape of Christlikeness form in me as I put aside my old ways of life and learned to live under the gospel.

Then other pieces of the image started coming together, but this time a little more slowly and deliberately. At first the puzzle was exciting to assemble; we were fresh and eager. But now it was starting to take more work, and even after a few hours of work, instead of seeing how much we had accomplished, we starting seeing just how many pieces still remained. Rather than being glad at how much had been finished, we were instead exasperated.

As I grow in Christ, I seem to see more and more pieces of Christ that still remain on the floor and not in my puzzle. I get more and more frustrated at how slowly they find their way into me. When a whole box full of pieces was there, I rejoiced that I had a framework and didn't care too much about everything else. But now I'm starting to see the pieces that still remain, and I get upset.

The beautiful truth is, though, that I can only see them because so many more of the others have already been cleared away. The formation of Christ in my life is perhaps slower and more piecemeal now, but this is because more of his image has already been formed in me. The image is coming together even if I don't see it, focused on what it still lacks. But of this I can be confident: "that he who began a good work in [me] will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ" (Philippians 1:6). And just as God rejoices in all his works, we ought also to look at what God has already done within us, and rest and rejoice.

Lead On, O Shepherd

"The sheep hear his [the shepherd's] voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice." (John 10:3-4)

If you've been around the church long enough, it will come as no surprise to hear that Jesus is our Shepherd. He says he is the Shepherd and Overseer of our souls (John 10:14; 21:15-19; 1 Peter 2:25; 5:4). But what is remarkable is that our shepherd is also himself a lamb (John 1:29: Revelation 5:5), a human who meekly came and bore our low estate. He "wore the robe of human frame / Himself, and to this lost world came."* Jesus came in the flesh, took up our cause, battled against sin, death, and the devil, and triumphed over them all. Having suffered and been vindicated, he is now "the source of eternal salvation to all who obey him" (Hebrews 5:9).

How astounding it is that now this Lamb is our Shepherd! But instead of some restful pastoral scene--as true as this is sometimes--we need to know that we are also enlisted into his army. The biblical imagery of a shepherd referred to a general-king who led his people out to battle and back in to worship and rest. And though our final rest is secured, we aren't there yet. This life is still a "struggle against sin" (Hebrews 12:4). We live between two ages in the tension where we have the Holy Spirit and are justified, yet we still sin (simul justus et peccator).


The two earliest forms of the Anastasis (Resurrection) icons depict this reality and give us good cheer and hope. The first (above) shows Christ, the Victor over death and sin's enslaving powers, drawing Adam (symbolic of all humans) from the grave toward himself. Salvation has been won and is now being offered. But to come to Christ, Adam must first pass under and embrace the Cross. He must trust in Jesus' finished work and have his old life put to death in submission to Jesus' lordship. This portrayal is decidedly baptismal. (I find it of note that even though Adam must embrace the cross is faith, the work in drawing him there belongs entirely to Jesus. Calvinism in the eight century!)


The second form (above) is quite different. Jesus is still holding the Cross and drawing Adam from the grave over the ruins of hell. But here Jesus is walking, even marching, forward. He's leading Adam out of death and into glory in "triumphal procession" (2 Corinthians 2:14).** As the "founder of [our] salvation," Jesus is "bringing many sons to glory" (Hebrews 2:10). This word translated "founder" is archegos, one who leads from the front, a "pioneer" or "captain." Jesus himself lived under sin, died our death, and now has risen in victory into life everlasting as King. He now conscripts us to share in his reign and follow him into all he has secured for us. We live now in tension: Will we endure in faith, or will we succumb to worldly pressures? Will sin ever be put to death within us? Will evil and sickness and malice and selfishness and unlove ever cease within and without?

Yes. Amen and Yes--in and through Jesus Christ alone, the Alpha and the Omega, who holds the keys to Death and Hades (2 Corinthians 1:20; Revelation 1:17-18). Our hope is sure and steadfast, because with Christ as our Shepherd, we're not left to wander aimlessly in the dark. He doesn't sit on the sidelines to cheer us on. He calls us, takes us by the hand, and leads us as he battles at the forefront, taking us where he has already gone. Lead on, O King eternal!

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* "O Love, How Deep"; attributed perhaps to Thomas a Kempis.

** The idea of being led in a triumphal procession, however, is not all glory and honor. Roman military generals led their captives in a victory parade toward the Coliseum, where they would be put to death. Only we who have allowed ourselves to be conquered and put to death in Christ in this life will find life now and in the age to come.

Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead!

"Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life!" -- the Troparion of Pascha, an Orthodox hymn chanted at Easter ("Pascha")

As I've been reading the Gospel of John, I see a God who is personally and intimately involved in bringing men and women out of death and into life. This makes me think of the ancient Christian Anastasis (Resurrection) icons, which depict the victorious Christ overcoming death and raising Adam (and sometimes Eve) from Hades. While there are four main thematic variants of the Anastasis, each designed to emphasize different features about the Resurrection, the most famous rendition looks like this:


I love this image because it shows Jesus victorious in splendor, mighty to save: "But God raised him from the dead, freeing him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him" (Acts 2:24). Technically Jesus is enveloped in a dazzling white mandorla, which depicts his deity.

Jesus is standing victorious over Death, having broken down the gates of Hades to build his church (Matthew 16:18). He has "bound the strong man" (usually Hades personified, but also Satan in Western icons) and is now able to plunder the grave (Matthew 12:29; Isaiah 53:12; Jude 1:6). Jesus has loosed the cords of Sheol and rendered its chains asunder, shattering them to bits below (Psalms 18:4, 5; 107:14; 116:3).

Best of all--what most touches my heart--is that a dynamic Jesus is taking Adam and Eve each by the hand and lifting them out of the grave and upward toward himself. He is personally and intimately involved in their salvation. (This particular rendition implies lifting them into the life of the Trinity.) "As recorded in John 5:24-30 Jesus teaches that it is his voice which will call the dead to life. "I tell you the truth, a time is coming and has now come when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God and live. . . . Do not be amazed at this, for a time is coming when all who are in their graves will hear his voice and come out--those who have done good will rise to live, and those who have done evil will rise to be condemned" (vv. 25, 28-29). Jesus is teaching that one day in the future, all who are physically dead will be called by him to rise; but today Jesus calls to the spiritually dead, and those who hear his voice and come to him for life are not only quickened spiritually, but also will rise to life everlasting and not be condemned.

"My Father's will," Jesus teaches, "is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day" (6:40). There will be no generic resurrection in which the dead simply "rise up." Crossing over from death to life (5:24) is never a merely mechanistic consequence of some predetermined plan of God. Rather, our Savior himself comes today to speak into out hearts his call to life: "Come to me, Andrew, that you may have life!" (5:40; Matthew 11:28). And one day, even as he has done already, so he will complete the work he came for, crying, "Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead!" (Ephesians 5:14). He will reach his hand deep into the grave to rescue my body from death, just as he once did for my spirit.

I imagine that when we hear Jesus' voice it will be as the edict of a great and magnanimous king, knighting his valorous, faithful servant and bestowing upon him a crown. "Well done, good and faithful servant! Enter into the joy of your master" (Matthew 25:21). The whole world will be hushed in awe. Perhaps he will have a different call, different words for each one of us: "Little girl, I say to you, get up!" (Mark 5:41; note here that Jesus took her by the hand as he called her back to life). "Lazarus, come out!" (John 11:43). And for those who rise to be condemned for their self-love, evil deeds, and lack of faith--well, I cannot imagine what terror and shame the King's decree will bequeath upon them.

The King, He comes to claim His own,

To raise His fallen, flesh and bone.

The blood they’ve spilled is not for naught:

His blood their resurrection bought.
--from "The Kingdom Comes" by Ryan Tinetti

Death and Victory: for Oma

Mathilde Margarethe Monika (Steinkohl) Bork, my maternal grandmother, died on Sunday, July 19th--her eighty-fourth birthday. After losing her husband of sixty-one years and in near-blindness and ailing health, "Oma" simply gave up her will to live. She died a peaceful, dignified death, surrounded in her last days by her family and loved ones.

I didn't cry.

After receiving the dreaded phone call from my younger brother Jordan, Olivia and I drove over to the hospital to be with my mom and uncle. We prayed for a while as I stroked Oma's hair and kissed her forehead goodbye.

Staring in the face the reality of death, the only thing I could think about was this: Jesus really rose from the grave. To this day I have no explanation why; even the best apologetics cannot stand. But all I know and am convinced of, without any explanation, is that Jesus is truly living and has triumphed over death itself, making a mockery of it. In what is one of the greatest Easter homilies of all time, John Chrysostom wrote thus:

Let no one fear death, for the Death of our Savior has set us free.
He has destroyed it by enduring it.
He destroyed Hell* when He descended into it.
He put it into an uproar even as it tasted of His flesh.

Isaiah foretold this when he said,
"You, O Hell, have been troubled by encountering Him below."
Hell was in an uproar because it was done away with.
It was in an uproar because it is mocked.
It was in an uproar, for it is destroyed.
It is in an uproar, for it is annihilated.
It is in an uproar, for it is now made captive.

Hell took a body, and discovered God.
It took earth, and encountered Heaven.
It took what it saw, and was overcome by what it did not see.

O death, where is thy sting?
O Hell, where is thy victory?

Christ is Risen, and you, o death, are annihilated!
Christ is Risen, and the evil ones are cast down!
Christ is Risen, and the angels rejoice!
Christ is Risen, and life is liberated!

Christ is Risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead;
for Christ having risen from the dead,
is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep.

To Him be Glory and Power forever and ever. Amen!

* * *

This Sunday, which will be our last gathered with the saints at New Song, is Communion Sunday. How fitting! For we will feast when God wipes out death (see Isaiah 25:6-9). Death, which once swallowed men in its insatiable appetite (Isaiah 5:14), is now itself swallowed in Christ's victory! I rejoice that what is fed to us by Jesus in this Meal, his broken body and poured-out blood for our forgiveness and life, is what (or rather who) will bring us into the Wedding Feast of life everlasting, where death is abolished. Right now I feel a craving for this meal as the comforting promise of life beyond death--the promise of my life in Christ.

"I thank You for the body and the blood of Your Son, Jesus Christ, my Lord. I go to His holy Supper as though I were going to my own death, so that I might go to my death as though going to His holy Supper. Surely, my cup overflows with mercy, and I can depart in peace, according to Your Word." ("Devotion at the Approach of Death," from The Lutheran Book of Prayer)

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*Other translations of Chrysostom's sermon render "Hell" as "Hades," which is probably more correct. (Chrysostom spoke Greek.) Hades represented not only the dark realm of the dead separated from the joys of life, but also Death itself as a consuming power. To those who think of this as a Greek abstraction foisted upon Christianity from without, you will note that the ancient Hebrew concepts of Sheol (death as a realm) and Abbadon (death as a destructive power) were very similar.

Light for the Journey

As Olivia and I prepare for our move to Richmond, Virginia, at the end of July, we've had to reckon with the fact that we'll need to find a new church--together. Which church will be not only the place for me, but the place for us? Of course, being somewhat fearful and prone to worry, this causes me all kinds of consternation: All churches are not alike; how shall we choose? Being a matter of contention and difference (though an important and practical one, I believe), baptism has occupied a lot of my thoughts, studies, and worries lately. What does it mean? What does baptism do? How should it be conducted? Who are the proper recipients? It's enough to drive even a person crazy! And all the more for me because, as a "J" on the Myers-Briggs type inventory, I have to have closure on something conceptual before I can confidently live it out. "It is not good to have zeal without knowledge!" is often my theme (Proverbs 19:2).*

But amid all the madness, my wise wife has had the guts and grace to keep me on the right track. She lovingly reminded me that to discern God's "will of direction" for our lives--including which church to join--is simply a matter of loving God with all our hearts and minds and being obedient to what light he has clearly given us already (cf. Deuteronomy 29:29; Philippians 3:15-16).** Included in the New Covenant is the promise that because God is for us, he guides us. We will hear his Spirit saying, "This is the way; walk in it" (Isaiah 30:21). This passage in Isaiah doesn't show some magic, mystical path like a labyrinthian British garden. Rather, it's a path of wisdom and worship, that is, fear-of-the-Lord (see v. 22). To know God's direction for our lives is simply to know what it means to love and serve him and our neighbors wholeheartedly.

The tricky thing is that this walking on this "way" of discipleship requires faith. The well-worn psalm lauds God's written Word as "a lamp to my feet and a light for my path" (Psalm 119:105). Of course, walking with a lamp to my feet doesn't illuminate a whole lot. I know where to place my foot next, but that's about it. Should I be afraid of what I cannot see? of a future which is uncertain? No. For though it is unknown and uncertain to us, it is known and certain to our loving Father who holds our lives in his hands. What he desires of us is to love him and walk in obedience to what we already know; and the rest he will reveal to us and teach us in his due time as is needed. "And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you. Only let us live up to what we have already attained" (Philippians 3:15b-16).

I want to have all things certain and known; I want them comfortable. In other words, I do not want to live as a servant under God's lordship, with him in control. But as God's good pleasure and purpose is "to bring about the obedience of faith," he is fully committed to teaching his people what they need to know in order to do his will--even if he may choose to do so only on the spot, just a step ahead of time.

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*I previously wrote on this here.
**"Will of direction" is a term I heard from Kevin DeYoung. His new book Just Do Something is an excellent place to start for anyone wanting to know what it means to "find God's will for your life." I haven't read all of it, but the sermon series from which it sprang has been a big influence in my life.

Piper vs. Wright on Justification

Many of you who frequent my blog (if "many" can be said of such a small plurality!) or have ties to it are probably becoming aware of the differences emerging within Protestantism over the traditional view on justification and that of the so-called "New Perspective on Paul" espoused by James Dunn, E. P. Sanders, and, most notably, N. T. Wright. There has been much controversy over this, because it appears that Wright challenges traditional theology in two ways: (1) He sees references to the "law" in Romans and Galatians as exclusively referring to God's covenant with Israel at Sinai and not also a universal moral law given to all nations. (2) He denies the imputation of Christ's righteousness to the believer, instead saying that though present justification is by faith, there will be a future justification upon the basis of our Spirit-wrought works. Many evangelicals claim this is a slip back into Rome, but I'm not so sure that that's really at stake (or at least not the degree some people think it is). In fact, I think there are ways that both perspectives fit together.

Christianity Today magazine has put together a very helpful table comparing Wright's view and the traditional Reformed view of John Piper (although I think Michael Horton or Douglas Moo would have been a much better representative of the confessional Reformed position than John Piper). The accompanying essay about pastoral implications quotes Kevin DeYoung, my former pastor at University Reformed Church in East Lansing, Michigan.

Questions on Romans 1:16-17

Our small group at New Song Church (EFCA) has begun studying the letter of St. Paul to the Romans. After reading the book some 20 times, I figured I had a pretty good understanding of what it was about. But reading some differing perspectives on the overall theme and argument of Romans always challenges me to go back to Word itself.

Perhaps the best "thesis statement" in Romans is 1:16-17: "For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, 'The righteous shall live by faith.' " (ESV)

If you have insight into a few questions, that would be great!

(1) Is "the power of God for salvation" the effect of the gospel message or the content of the gospel message?

If it is the effect, this would mean that as the gospel is preached, God's Spirit works to create faith in the message. It's God's powerful, mighty Word through which he brings life. (See 1 Thessalonians 1:4-5.)

If it is the content of the gospel, then the gospel is about the power which God has exerted in Christ upon the cross to justify sinners and break the power of sin and in the resurrection-defeat of death and decay. (See Romans 1:4; Ephesians 1:19 ff.; Philippians 3:21; Colossians 2:12.)

(2) How are we to understand "the righteousness of God" revealed in the gospel? Does it mean "the righteousness God bestows" or "God's own righteousness"?

If it means "the righteousness God bestows" or "a righteousness from God" (NIV), then the gospel reveals that, in the face of unrighteous mankind's dire need in the face of God's wrath (1:18), God has provided a justifying righteousness for us. The argument stretching from 1:18 to 3:20 seems to point in this direction, especially since the Greek links 1:18 to 1:16-17: "For (gar) the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men."

If it means "God's own righteousness," then the gospel is about how God turns out to be and faithful and just. One question put forth in Romans is whether or not God would punish sin and, if he did, how he could still bring his promised life and salvation to a universally sinful world. The answer is the propitiating work of Christ which "shows God's righteousness" (3:21-26). He upholds both his justice in punishing transgression as well as having devised a way to justify (vindicate or declare righteous) sinful people so that they could inherit eternal life. God's faithfulness is also "on trial" in Romans, since the very people to whom he promised salvation, the Jews, are rejecting the Savior (3:3-4; chapters 9-11). If God promised the Jews salvation and yet they're not actually entering into his kingdom, is God impotent and/or a liar?

I suppose it's possible that these ambiguous phrases contain both meanings simultaneously, though that seems to contradict general theories about how language works. Are either of these examples of double entendre? Any helpful thoughts?

Malatya

I recently found out that a documentary DVD has been made about the slayings of the first Turkish Christian martyrs. Ugur Yuksel and Necati Aydin, along with a German believer named Tilmann Geske, were killed by an organized group of five teenagers in the city of Malatya in east-central Turkey on April 18, 2007. (See my related posts from 4/18/07, 4/28/07, 8/8/07, 4/18/08.) You can check out the film's website at www.malatyafilm.org. The website includes a 30-day prayer guide for the nation of Turkey put on by The Austin Stone Community Church in Austin, Texas.

Being myself a Christian living in Turkey at that time and committed to spreading the news that Jesus Christ was the Redeemer of the world, I remember how strongly I felt the news of their deaths. Several of my housemates had actually met these men a few months earlier. Just two days after the killings I traveled to the city of Adana on the southern coast of Turkey and worshiped at the church where Geske was a member for six years. It was powerful. I remember the strength of the Turkish church and their determination: determination to persevere unswervingly in the face of opposition, given the faithfulness of God and the hope of the resurrection; determination to continue their love for their nation; and determination to forgive the killers and embody the power of the cross and the message of a God who loves those hostile to him. The martyrs' family publicly forgave the killers--news which made the front page of the newspapers and shocked many.

But what I think I remember most was this: As an expatriate, I had often thought of "us" expats and "them," the Turkish church. I loved the Turks and prayed for them daily--as I still do often--but I always prayed for "them." But on April 18 I remember reading Psalms 58 and 59 and unthinkingly found myself praying "we" and "us"--a prayer which, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, opened to my eyes that I was one with them. I hurt with them. As a Christian in Turkey, I was now caught up in this, too. Would my turn come soon? I had already endured a notable degree of mocking, derision, mistrust, and verbal abuse there for telling others about God's salvation. I am one with the Turkish church was the word burning in my heart. It was a moment I will not forget.

Lord Jesus, the Father has begun to pour out your Spirit and vitalize your servants. Would your redeemed saints in Turkey spread news of you through their bold faith, their self-sacrificing service to their family and friends, and through persistent hope in the Resurrection--both yours and theirs.

"Dirilis ve yasam benim. Bana iman eden kisi olsede yasayacaktin." ("I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live, even if he dies." John 11:25 -- from Tilmann Geske's gravestone)

"Necati Aydin: 1972 - infinity" -- from Aydin's gravestone

Self-justification versus God's justification

A money matter this past weekend revealed just how selfish, hurtful, conniving, and distrusting of God I really can be. Just a day before, I was talking with some of my students about how their innate response to any wrongdoing of theirs is to defend themselves and proclaim themselves innocent. Ha! Now I too was doing the exact same thing. It's funny how that works, eh?

As sad as it is that such things happen, God has been teaching me a very important lesson through it. I realized that as long as I was trying to find excuses and explanations for my behavior, I was trying to create my own circumstances for vindication--a self-justification. But on what basis would that stand before God? To do such is to fall from grace (Galatians 5:4). Yet in God's faithful persistence, the Spirit whispered to me the truth: Christ the Son has made full atonement for all my sins, and by faith in him I stand fully and forever vindicated before God the Father. But such faith in him means that I no longer lean on any edifice of my own works, logic, or vindication, and instead rely wholly on him. In Christ I was (and am) free to be a sinner, to say I'm sorry, to admit my wrongs in every gruesome detail, and to ask for forgiveness. And such forgiveness did I find, both from the offended party at hand and from God as well.

When were you saved?

"It happened one afternoon in A.D. 34 when Jesus died on the cross."

-- Karl Barth, upon being asked in 1962 exactly when he "got saved"

I think this quote--this mindset, this reality--is wonderful and wonderfully clarifying. It's true that the redemption accomplished by Christ is applied to us in the here and now by the Holy Spirit. But we can never let our first moments of light and faith (if known) overshadow the fact that it is Jesus Christ who is our Savior. It was his self-emptying and curse-bearing death and his glorious, aeon-flipping resurrection which accomplished our salvation, not some moment we "accepted Christ" or "committed my life to Christ" or anything else like that. Jesus' final words? "It is accomplished" (John 19:30).

Angels in our midst

Reading the Revelation of St. John is always a mind-stretching experience. I used to get really perplexed by it because I thought it mostly had to do with hidden secrets about some far-off "end times." Then I realized two things core to its message: (1) We are now living in the "last times" (Hebrews 1:2; 1 Peter 1:20). (2) It is literally "the revelation of Jesus Christ" (1:1). "Revelation" (Greek apokalupsos) means "unveiling" or taking away a covering so that we can see the truth. In this book we do not see Jesus as a dead historical figure, nor the church as an impotent amalgamation of rejects, nor the powers of the world as ultimate. We are given a glimpse behind the veil of our eyes to embrace reality in faith: Christ is a living King, the church is God's dwelling place on Earth, the saints are a victorious, conquering army, and the forces of evil are the real losers.

One thing that struck me is this: Jesus gives a message through St. John to the "angel" of each of the seven churches in Asia Minor (present-day western Turkey). It occurred to me that these angels are not the "heavenly host" as I once thought they were. After all, it would be very strange for the Son of Man to use a mortal human to mediate his words to the heavenly beings who serve him at his throne. The word "angel" can also just as easily be translated "messenger." To whom, then, is Jesus speaking through John? It is the pastors of the local church bodies! The Chief Shepherd is giving counsel to his designated vice-shepherds (see 1 Peter 5:2, 5).

What importance this has for us! As Protestants we toss about the Reformation doctrine of "the priesthood of all believers" as license to seek our own paths to God or, more likely, simply include our pastor's preaching and counsel as simply one course in the spiritual smorgasbord by which we grow in knowledge and faith. But if these are are, as Christ himself reveals through his Spirit, his very angels and messengers, how much more important do these men become! How much more attentively ought we to heed their preaching as the very voice of Christ to us!* How much more authority do these seemingly weak, worldly men actually wield upon the earth!

So easily do I stuff my sermon notes into the back of my journal, leave them on the desk, or toss them out. It's my daily, personal "quiet time" that counts most, I think. That's where God really speaks to me. Personal study of the Scriptures is invalulable, it's true; but Christ promises his presence in the church. "Where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them." Even in the Revelation of Jesus as exalted and in holy splendor (1:12-20), he is found nowhere other than standing among his churches.

But there is more: "In his right hand he held seven stars, and out of his mouth came a double-edged sword" (Revelation 1:16). Jesus then tells the apostle, "The mystery of the seven stars that you saw in my right hand and of the seven lampstands is this: The seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven lampstands are the seven churches" (v. 20). In his book Reversed Thunder Eugene Peterson points out that to the ancient Greco-Roman world, the constellations and the seven known planets (or "unfixed stars") were of supreme importance. The constellations represented the pantheon, and the movement of the planets among the Zodiac was believed to determine one's destiny.

Yet Christ holds the stars in his hand! It is not mere stars or planets nor some fickle soap opera of deities which rules the outcome of history. Neither is it Rome nor the Third Reich nor the U.S.A. nor any other political power. It is Jesus Christ who is Lord! And it is his stars--his messengers--which influence the world. It is his lampstands--the churches--which bring light and truth. The work of the church and her pastors cannot be unceremoniously scraped into a pile of impotent failures, all apparent realities to the contrary. It is through the church which Jesus acts: He wields his sword, as Peterson points out, not through the mouth of a gun, but though the mouth of his people bearing his Word to the world.

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*Romans 10:14 highlights that when the message of Christ is preached, we do not merely hear about Christ; we hear Christ himself. "How will they believe in Him whom they have not heard? And how will they hear without a preacher?" (NASB).

Freedom of and for faith

I'm sorry, but this kind of obtuse legalism makes me ill.

It's one thing to forbid dancing, hand-holding, and the like at their own school. But to forbid a student to attend prom at another school is ludicrous; that's no threat to the school. It is upsetting that this MSN writer chose not to provide the Baptist school's explanation for not allowing dancing, etc., and how this student's' perceived moral compromise could spread to his classmates. At least that much should be allowed to be said. But nonetheless, I cannot see at all how any "fundamental," "Bible-believing" Christian can outright forbid our freedom in Christ to follow the Spirit in matters allowed in Christian liberty. Neither dancing, nor hand-holding, nor consumption of alcohol is forbidden in the Bible (see 2 Samuel 6:14-16; Psalm 104:14-15). On the contrary, drinking wine is itself commanded and assumed in the observation of the Lord's Supper, and our Lord himself drank wine (Matthew 26:27-29). Jesus even compared the Christian life to the joy of new wine (Luke 5:33-39).

More than just making Christians look like a bunch of total idiots, I'm afraid that this unbiblical legalism turns people in on themselves and away from Christ and his "alien righteousness." The Pharisees thought the kingdom would come by their own efforts in the Law and thereby failed to learn what mercy is. We need to make room for people to have faith in Christ and his deeds, not their own. Martin Luther counseled thus to all legalists who forget we are justified before God by faith alone and not by adhering to religious rites and customs and laws:

[The Christian] will meet first the unyielding, stubborn ceremonialists who like deaf adders are not willing to hear the truth of Christian liberty [Ps. 58:4] but, having no faith, boast of, prescribe, and insist upon their ceremonies as means of justification. Such were the Jews of old, who were unwilling to learn how to do good. These we must resist, do the very opposite, and offend them boldly lest by their impious views they drag many with them into their error. In the presence of such men it is good to eat meat, break the fasts, and for the sake of the liberty of faith do other things which they regard as the greatest of sins. Of them we must say, "Let them alone; they are blind guides." (On Christian Liberty)

Heirs by grace

Now that I'm wrapping up several months of study in the Pentateuch, I was looking foward to spending some time again reading the Psalms. Well, lo and behold, the first psalm I read this morning, 105, was essentially a retelling of the Pentateuch's story. One interpretive feature of many psalms is that the meat of their content in the middle is framed by "bookends" that provide the main theme. In the case of Psalm 105, a retelling of Israel's deliverance from Egypt and entry into Canaan, the bookends are about God's righteousness in upholding his covenant with Abraham.

7 He is the LORD our God;
his judgments are in all the earth.
8 He remembers his covenant forever,
the word he commanded, for a thousand generations,
9 the covenant he made with Abraham,
the oath he swore to Isaac.
10 He confirmed it to Jacob as a decree,
to Israel as an everlasting covenant:
11 "To you I will give the land of Canaan
as the portion you will inherit." (vv. 7-11)

42 For he remembered his holy promise
given to his servant Abraham.
43 He brought out his people with rejoicing,
his chosen ones with shouts of joy;
44 he gave them the lands of the nations,
and they fell heir to what others had toiled for-
45 that they might keep his precepts
and observe his laws.
Praise the LORD. (vv. 42-45)

We learn here that God's treaty with Abraham is a promise sworn "forever" by God (v. 8) and is an "everlasting covenant" (berith olam, v. 10). But wait a second--wasn't it fulfilled already? Didn't Israel inherit the land? Well, not quite.

Centuries later the priest Zechariah (whose name means "the LORD remembers") extolled the Lord's righteousness at the Messiah's advent (Luke 1:67-79): With the coming of the Messiah has God now remembered "the oath he swore to our father Abraham." What had God done? He had raised up the true Davidic king, Jesus Christ. Psalm 105 points us ahead to the One who would "fulfill all righteousness" on our behalf. Jesus, Abraham's true Seed (Galatians 3:15-22), has now by his own faith and righteousness inherited the true "promised land," the kingdom of heaven. He earned it by his own merit and righteousness, doing his Father's will even unto death. And by another covenant (diatheke) what he earned he now freely gives us by grace (Hebrews 9:15-17). Through no toil or merit of our own, we've "fallen heir to what others [or Another] had toiled for" (Psalm 105:44). We share in Christ the Son's own everlasting inheritance by open-handed faith.*

National Israel may have been given provisional access to a small plot of hotly-contested land. But now we see that in the Messiah God's promise to Abraham means so much more. His descendants--the Israel of faith--are nothing short of all peoples, tongues, and tribes**; his land is nothing short of the entire earth now, and "the new heavens and the new earth" in the age to come.

Not only do I think it's cool to see foreshadows of the gospel in the Old Testament. What is much, much better is our tenaciously faithful and furiously loving Father; our self-emptying Savior who suffered that we might become sons; and the Spirit who breathes the life of faith into us by which we grasp hold of Christ and life in his kingdom.
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*See Romans 8:14-17; Galatians 3:26. Being "adopted as sons" in Roman times involved conferring a right to an inheritance.
**According to the Bible, Israel is no longer a plot of land or limited to Jewish people; the entire global church is Israel. "If you belong to Christ, you are Abraham's seed, and heirs according to the promise" (Galatians 3:29; cf 6:16 and Romans 4).

Freedom under Providence

News flash: Olivia and I are moving back to Richmond, Virginia! Few viable job leads had materialized in Plainfield or anywhere else in nearby Chicagoland, so I contacted my old district in Richmond, Henrico County Public Schools, and within a week I had three interviews lined up. I was eventually offered a biology/chemistry teaching position at Henrico High School, and I was able to negotiate for an extended, higher-paying contract.

As the reality of a move to VA drew near, we trembled at the thought of leaving behind Olivia's home of eleven years. I've become more comfortable living here, too, and yet another major move is certainly less than ideal. But we realized that in the absence of a compelling reason to stay in Illinois, this was clear provision from God in answer to prayers for employment. We knew that neither option--staying in IL or moving to VA--would be sin. We had good, God-fearing motives for each. But we knew we had to quickly make a decision, so we trusted God and went for it, believing that even in a big move such as this, God would be with us.

I felt the freedom to make this decision because I know that "finding God's will" is not about reading a fortune in tea leaves, gazing in a crystal ball for each move, or wanting to see the whole future laid out before we step out in faith. That's condemned as abominable sin, in fact (Deuteronomy 18:9-14). It's easy to get plagued by wanting to know God's secret will for our lives, all the particulars and plans, when those mysteries are never for our knowledge anyway (Deuteronomy 29:29). As servants under God's covenant lordship, all that matters is living by what he has revealed, that is, trusting him and being guided by his law. As we trust and obey his revealed will or "will of command" we can be sure that he will uphold us and carry out his exact plan for our lives, his "hidden will" or "will of decree." My former pastor Kevin DeYoung once preached,

We must renounce our sinful desire to know the future and be in control. We are not gods. We walk by faith, not by sight. We risk because God does not risk. We walk into the future in God-glorifying confidence, not because the future is known to us, but because it is known to God. And that's all we need to know.*

Here I think only a historic Augustinian/Reformed view of God's sovereignty and providence can give us humans true, meaningful freedom.* In an Arminian/open theistic view, even in "middle knowledge," God does not control all that happens in the future. He merely knows all that is possible, but human choice directs its course. If "God's will for my life" were really some sort of secret string of pearls I must continue to discover--specific choices and actions I may miss or stray from--then unless God controls me like a puppet, I could inadvertantly thwart his will. "Dang, God wanted me to do that, but I guess I missed it and ended up doing this instead. How was I to know? Both seemed like good options at the time. Can I still get back on track with his plan for me?"

In the biblical truth, however, everything is secured by God. I may fail to follow his revealed will--his law--but I cannot thwart his true purposes for me (his "hidden will" or "will of decree"). "Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails" (Proverbs 19:21; see also 16:9, 33; Ephesians 1:11). I can rest in knowing that when I'm faced with two or more choices, neither of which is sinful, then I'm free to really choose and know that all that follows is in God's hands and is according to his plan. I don't have to fear ruining God's will for my life. Only in this way are my choices truly free. And I can rest assured that even when I fail in sin, the Potter does not throw out rebellious, deformed clay. He rather reshapes it again in patience and grace (Jeremiah 18).

In addition, because God has the sovereign power to actually bring the consequences and fruit of my decisions to pass and to make them stick, only a Reformed view makes my choices truly meaningful, more than just vain hopes thrown cast to the winds of chance. God has the ability to "establish the work of our hands for us" (Psalm 90:17), giving lasting weight to our choices and actions. Otherwise I would have no confidence that my decisions to follow God would not be corrupted by someone else; the world would be ruled by existentialist Angst. But it is not so, for "the earth is the LORD's, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it" (Psalm 24:1).
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*DeYoung, pastor at University Reformed Church (RCA) in East Lansing, MI, has now put his excellent sermon series "Wisdom and the Will of God" into a new book format titled Just Do Something. I'm really looking forward to reading it.
** This is not to say that others outside the Reformed tradition do not hold similar views, but they've largely been influenced by Augustine or the reformers.

Herein Is Love

Confessing Evangelical, a Lutheran blogger across the pond, has written about Dr. Tim Keller's relationship between love and self-sacrifice/self-substitution, that is, true love is substitutionary. Check it out here; it's definititely worth reading.

A Greater Hope, part 2

This is it: My first post since marrying Olivia. Now two-plus weeks past, I'm getting used to having a ring on my finger, and I'm finding it one of the sweetest blessings--more than I could've imagined--to kneel to pray with Olivia at night before bed and then wake up right next to her, snuggled up close. Sure, it has been pretty crazy trying to move her into my, er, our apartment and figure out our new life together. But I wouldn't ever want to trade it.

On the day before our wedding ceremony, I spent time in prayer thanking God for how he had fashioned Olivia and me with his own specific intentions for our lives (Psalm 139:15-16); I also prayed for God to establish this new marriage and household (Psalm 90:17). My thoughts turned to Jesus' admonition against divorce:

Some Pharisees came to him to test him. They asked, "Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife for any and every reason?"
"Haven't you read," he replied, "that at the beginning the Creator 'made them male and female,' and said, 'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh'? So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate." (Matthew 19:3-6)

Yes, this passage can be cliche. But what struck me wasn't the warning against breaking faith with one's wife. It was that when a man and a woman are united in marriage, it is God's act; he is the one who joins them together.

This filled me with incredible hope. If marriage were merely a worldly doing--its purpose a human purpose and its ends derived from the heart of fallen man--then it would fail. It would be as fragile and transient as the morning dew, which is consumed in the heat of the day. But it's not. And that's a marvelous thing. Marriage was intended by God, who created man in his image, "male and female he created them," first to bring to fuller expression the unity and diversity of his own nature and the dance of love between the Three Persons of the Trinity.* And as the story of fallen man's redemption plays out, God also shows that the marriage bond is the matrix for knowing and showing off the depths of his unfailing love-and-faithfulness (Hebrew chesed). Finally, the promises God has given to his chosen people under the new covenant is that they will know him in the joy and intimacy of a husband and his wife (see Isaiah 62:5; Jeremiah 31:34; Hosea 2:20). (Yes, that kind of knowing, too!)

And as it is God's desire to fill the earth with his images, spreading his dominion and filling its span with his reflected glory, so too does God desire the raising up of children who know and cherish him and his work of salvation on their behalf. Malachi 2:10-16 says that God made husband and wife "one in flesh and spirit" (NRSV; see also NIV) because he is seeking "godly offspring," followers of Christ formed by their parents in a home of God-glorifying love and fidelity. God even goes so far as to say, "I hate divorce!" (2:16).

This goes to show that God has a lot more interest in preserving and beautifying marriages than any human couple does. It is his doing for his renown and pleasure. So Olivia and I can move forward and press through any test that comes our way, knowing that if we humble ourselves before God, fear him, and rely on him always, we can have full confidence that God will deepen and strengthen our marriage.
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*See my previous post about this from last spring.

A Greater Hope

In less than one short week, my beloved Olivia and I will begin the exciting journey of life together as a married couple. I cannot begin to relay how excited I am! I mean, seriously, she is such a wonderful blessing in my life. For example, only she could make me want to swallow my pride and say "I was wrong."

Someone asked recently if we had a prenuptial agreement, to which I replied: "No, there will be no prenuptial agreement. We actually trust each other and endeavor to follow Jesus Christ in love for one another, which means we'll never divorce. No divorce = no prenup. It's as simple as that. Prenup agreements are an advance warning that you don't trust the other person and/or you don't plan on being faithful to them. But that's not us."

Now, how can I be so sure of that? you might wonder. It's a question I often ask myself. How can I know that my own selfishness and pride will not foster bitterness and divisiveness between us and ultimately lead to a divorce? Current statistics, if they are to be believed, claim that over one third of "born again" Christians' marriages end in separation.

It's because I know that my hope for living in love does not depend solely on myself; my hope is in God's great promises to purify my desires and make me increasingly more loving and selfless:

"They will be my people, and I will be their God.* I will give them singleness of heart and action, so that they will always fear me for their own good and the good of their children after them. I will make an everlasting covenant with them: I will never stop doing good to them, and I will inspire them to fear me, so that they will never turn away from me. I will rejoice in doing them good and will assuredly plant them in this land with all my heart and soul." (Jeremiah 32:38-41)

"I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws." (Ezekiel 36:24-27)

"And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit." (2 Corinthians 3:18)

When by faith we have communion with Christ, we have Christ in us, "the hope of glory" (Colossians 1:27). Yes, our greatest hope, sharing in Jesus' bodily glorification and complete freedom from sin, will not be our possession until after his return. But even now we possess his Spirit and are being renewed. This is no mere wishful thinking, for if it is, then God is a liar. These promises of God have been my courage and my comfort since this past fall concerning a lasting marriage with Olivia. I have brought these promises of God's before his throne in prayer many times, claiming his faithfulness to his word and reminding him that his Name would be defaced if he doesn't hold true to this.

In short, Olivia and I, sinners that we are, can boldly go forth into marriage because God's purposes and grace are more powerful than any evil. It is the Lord Christ who is the Omega; he gets the last word in our lives and in all of history. And it is his promise that his own loving heart and fear of God will be wrought within us, bit by bit, day by day, as by faith we go under those waters of our baptism--letting our old desires and ways be put to death in Christ that a new self might be born within us.**

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*I am aware that the passages from Jeremiah and Ezekiel were first spoken to Israel in her exile. But these promises are certainly not for Jews alone; they belong to the "everlasting covenant" of grace into which the entire worldwide church has been engrafted through faith in Christ and his gospel. In a nutshell, the apostolic message of the New Testament is that the promises of deliverance and kingdom given to Israel were now being fulfilled through the Messiah, and they have been opened up to all nations, that they too might share in Messiah's benefits. Hence Paul can call the Gentile Galatian church "the Israel of God" (Galatians 6:15-16; cf. Ephesians 2:12-13; 3:6).

** See Romans 6:3-4; Galatians 3:26-27; Colossians 2:11-13.

Colson on Catechesis

Chuck Colson has written an engaging article about the need for re-instructing the church in the fundamental tenets of the Christian faith. Just this morning I read in my BSF notes about the primacy of knowledge in saving faith, that is, faith in Christ rests in a true understanding of his Person and work. Amen!

I was actually a little surprised to find that such a stalwart of modern American evangelicalism as Colson says that contextualization--culturally packaging Christian doctrine in a way that can more readily be grasped--is "radically different from changing the definitive, concise summary of Christian truth the early church fathers accomplished in their councils." What? The Religious Right upholding the Seven Ecumenical Councils? I'm glad to see it. I think this could be an up-side of many evangelicals' desire for a more "authentic" (read: ancient) faith. Of course, most just want medieval spiritual practices, candles, and "spirituality"; others seeking an authentic faith are stressing "following Jesus" (orthopraxy) over confessing truth about him (orthodoxy). (I specifically think of Emergent movement here.) But if a desire to discover an authentic faith leads to embracing the historical doctrines of Christianity, then that's awesome!

I am also glad to read that Colson says that "personal faith is of course vital, but it is not sufficient." Faith, in itself, is nothing. It's merely, as the reformers put it, the "open hand" that receives Christ and all his benefits. Our faith--our knowledge, assent, and trust--must be in "him who is true" (1 John 5:20).

Is Loss a Gain?

Ha. Life is funny. Or perhaps it's God who's funny, always wanting to keep me on my proverbial toes. You see, on March 5 I had a very positive evaluation by my department chairman and the head principal and they wrote a written recommendation to the school board for my rehire. All was well, right? I felt very grateful to God for knowing that I was filling my role as a teacher with success.

But then came March 12 and another fiat from the school board to cut more employees. (Our district is about $12M in the red.) Guess what? Against his wishes, my principal called me down to tell me the news that I would have to get let go and would not be rehired for next year. For real? I guess the recession isn't just "in the news" anymore.

At first I was pretty upset. But then I realized--with some help from some God-conscious friends--that this may just be God's way of guiding his plan for me. So what if I don't teach in Plainfield again next year? I get to work and/or live somewhere else, and I need to be open to that. The more I thought about it, I realized it wasn't that big of a deal. Maybe it's time to move back to Richmond; Olivia and I are certainly open to the idea of living in the "Promised Land." Maybe something better is in store. Who knows? (God does--and he's always good.)

Armed with that thought, I've been able to be pretty upbeat and hopeful this week. Sure, it'll get tougher after the wedding (April fourth!) and I really get serious about job applications. But right now I am resting in God's care, knowing that with God and with an awesome wife, I can pretty much go anywhere and do anything.

Bonhoeffer on "Cheap Grace"

Reflecting further on this passage in Numbers and people's presumption upon God's graciousness, I thought a few words from Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Cost of Discipleship would be helpful here.

The essence of grace, we suppose, is that the account has been paid in advance [at the Cross]; and, because it has been paid, everything can be had for nothing. Since the cost [of Christ's death] was infinite, the possibilities of using and spending it are infinite. What would grace be if it were not cheap?

He also goes on to define this "cheap grace":

[Cheap grace is] the grace which amounts to the justification of sin without the justification of the sinner who departs from sin and from whom sin departs. Cheap grace is not the kind of forgiveness of sin which frees us from the toils of sin. Cheap grace is the grace we bestow on ourselves.

Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.

I think that viewing justification as God's acceptance of sin instead of the acceptance of the sinner is so insightful. It's so easy for me to think, "Oh, I'm covered by grace; I'm forgiven; I'm set right with God." That's true--I am right before God through faith in Jesus Christ. But my sins never were nor ever will be right. Salvation is eminently personal: I am in fellowship with Christ. But my sins never are. My sins may be expiated, expunged, or propitiated; but they are never justified.

Postponed Grace

In the previous post I wrote about--believe it or not--how God is gracious to hold us to the consequences of our sin. But just because God is gracious and our sins are wiped away in Christ doesn't mean all can be had from God's hand so easily. When Israel refused to enter the Promised Land and God judged them, Moses interceded for them. He pleaded God's grace (Numbers 14:17-19). But many others presumed upon it (14:39-45). They thought that with a glib acknowledgement of their sin, all would be okay. They thought all was immediately amended and that God's favor could be had for nothing. Instead of showing a true, mature faith by humbly accepting the severity of their sin and the necessity of repenting from it, they chose instead to try to conquer their enemies in Canaan. Consequently they were duly routed.

It's not to say that the "promised land" isn't for forgiven, redeemed sinners. It is. But it's precisely that; it's a land that can only be enjoyed by redeemed sinners, those who are freed from sin. Those who still love sin much will love God's gifts least (Numbers 16:13-14). Perhaps God is looking for a certain kind of person to enjoy his gifts, someone who will really be grateful and accept them with gladness, someone who will cherish the things God chooses to give. "Not as the world gives do I give to you," says our Lord (John 14:27). He doesn't give us the same type of crap we can buy off the shelf for pennies but which fails to satisfy--the same junk we crave out of sinful desires. ("Oh, the leeks and onions and garlic we had in Egypt!" Israel moaned.) God gives "good and perfect" blessings (James 1:17), and perhaps for many people he chooses to wait until they will see them as good things. And isn't it all the sweeter to receive a gift if you've had to wait for it?
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Do I err in thinking this? For now it's only a thought, a rumination. Am I confusing Law and Gospel? I don't think so. God's gifts are always gracious--free, undeserved favors upon sinners. But he is free also to give or withhold in the way he so pleases.

Consequences

Can there still be consequences for forgiven sin? That's a question I had to ask myself as I was reading through an account of Israel's greatest national failure, their refusal to occupy the Promised Land (Numbers 13-14). Because many said they would rather die in the desert than trust the Lord and boldly march into the land to do battle with its occupants, the Lord gave them exactly what they wanted: he condemned them to four decades of trackless wandering in the desert until every adult had finally collapsed in death. Not one of the rebels would inherit the land.

It says in Numbers 14:20 that God did indeed forgive their sin; he didn't wipe them out entirely. Their posterity would still go on inherit the Promised Land. But can there still be consequences for forgiven sin? Or, better yet, can God still hold us to the consequences of sin which he has forgiven and canceled? If they're truly forgiven and atoned for, shouldn't any lingering effects be removed? If God is not unjust, then how can he forgive and yet not relieve sin's effects?

If our sins are forgiven in Christ, is he still punishing us? No. In Hebrews 12:6 (quoting Provers 3:11-12) it says that "the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son." Those whom he accepts are accepted on account of having been forgiven of their sins through faith in Jesus Christ (John 1:12). God's wrath no longer remains upon them (John 3:36). So this punishment cannot be a punitive one; rather, it's disciplinary. A father spanks his child to train his child to obey and choose the right way ahead of time. God often chooses to let the results of sin unfold in his children's lives in order to teach us the death and fruitlessness of violating his created order, that is, his law. In the ensuing pain of sin God is mercifully weening us from our vain idolatries and is forming in us a glorious love for him alone. Hebrews 12:10 says that God "disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness"--and "without holiness no one will see the Lord" (v. 14). God's consequences are part of how he strengthens his children to endure until the end and not set our hearts on evil , by which we would fall short of the kingdom (1 Corinthians 10:1-11).

Furthermore, the painful results of sin can never be punishment--for that would be far too small to offset the grievous nature of our sin. Do we really think that losing a job, rocking a marriage, or bearing some measure of public humiliation for our sin is really enough to make full satisfaction for it before God? Absolutely not! Only there at the Cross is justice and satisfaction and reconciliation all in one. Only in the disfigured Man of Sorrows who cried in the shadows, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" is enough punishment for sin. Everything else can only be at best a mild "slap on the wrist" in comparison.

In a strange way, I believe that willing submission to sin's effects shows not little, but great, faith in God's grace, mercy, goodness, and lovingkindness. We don't think, "Dang, God is punishing me for this sin." We know that would mock the Crucified Redeemer and neglect that our reconcilation in him. Humbly submitting to God's rod of discipline is full of faith because it's believing that accounts were in fact settled in full upon Golgotha. God has justified us in Christ and will never condemn us (Romans 8:1, 32-39). So we know what now comes our way must be corrective, not vindictive. It is for our good.

So we ought to rejoice that God our Father is chastising us. It proves us his sons, forms in us "the holiness without which no one will see the Lord" (Hebrews 12:10, 14), and validates our genuine faith so that we will be uplifted in praise and honor (1 Peter 1:6-7).

Maybe the question to ask isn't "Can God justly give temporal consequences for eternally forgiven sin?" The answer is, Yes, he can, and he does. Who am I to question God? But rather we should be glad that he does do so--for he does it as even a merciful act of his favor toward wayward sinners.

Gratitude

Today was The Day. That is, today is when non-tenured teachers were supposed to find out if they weren't going to be rehired for next year. I anxiously dared to open my e-mail inbox, wondering if I was going to have The Meeting today.

No news is good news, I guess.

As the day went on, I found out that two other hard-working science teachers got let go (and one was a two-sport coach, at that!). It was really a numbers game. The district is in debt, the curriculum is changing, and enrollment actually dropped. I'm not entirely in the clear yet, but I heard that today would be "the day" for anyone getting let go.

I hate turning on the news anymore, and the atmosphere is equally paranoid every day in public schools. I heard that a large local district released all of their first-year teachers. But it makes me ever so thankful that God has graciously answered my near-daily prayers for continued employment. (On top of this, two of my students even brought me some of the scrumptious cake they made last night during a "study party"!)

As Olivia has so often reminded me, "The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 4:5-7). Thank you, Father, for your kindness toward me through your Son, Jesus Christ.

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.