Growing Pains

¹Now there was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a member of the Jewish ruling council. ²He came to Jesus at night and said, "Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the miraculous signs you are doing if God were not with him."

³In reply Jesus declared, "I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.^a]"

⁴"How can a man be born when he is old?" Nicodemus asked. "Surely he cannot enter a second time into his mother's womb to be born!"

⁵Jesus answered, "I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit. ⁶Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. ⁷You should not be surprised at my saying, 'You must be born again.' ⁸The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit." (John 3:1-8)

For years I thought Nicodemus simply mistook Jesus for speaking of a literal rebirth. Sure enough, Jesus did say cryptic things like, "You need to eat my flesh and drink my blood." (See John 6:51-56.) How could he not expect people to misunderstand him? But Nicodemus was no idiot; of course he knew no one could climb back in the womb. Jesus knew this too.* Was Nico asking something different? Was he instead acknowledging the great difficulty of a grown man changing his ways? Perhaps this is implied when he asks not, "How can a person be born a second time?" but rather, "How can a [grown] man be born when he is old?"

This made me think: If we're reborn by the Spirit into the new creation** and the kingdom of God, then that means we must, like little babes, relearn how to live. As babies acquire knowledge which shapes their worldview, values, and loves, so too must all who trust in Christ. As Switchfoot sang, there's "a new way to be human" which every Christian must learn. And that's tough, because it means we never really knew how to live in the first place. Being "born of water" means cleansing out the old self, washing away its dirt, even burial in a death-dealing flood. The entire you, at your very core, needs to be killed and reborn. And being born into a life of the Spirit, not of the flesh, means learning wisdom and life and worship according to God's terms, not our own natural ways to which we've grown accustomed. Jesus' resurrection by the Spirit brought about a "new world order" which we must learn to live by.

When I began to get serious about my relationship with Olivia, especially now that we're married, I realized how much of my old ways had to go. I had no idea what measure of independence I lived in until I had to start giving it up to consider her needs as well! Sometimes I don't want to change. Learning new ways is hard. It betrays our comfort and confidence, humbles us when we think we are wise, and crosses the grain of our natural selfishness. Maybe that's why Jesus said we had to receive the kingdom like little children, not like grown adults. And maybe that's why so few, as Nicodemus confessed, give serious attention to following Jesus. I think a lot of professing Christians are like a number of my students. They give little to no effort to their schoolwork because at least that way (in their self-defending logic) when they receive a poor grade, it's because they didn't try, not because they tried and were found wanting. Following Jesus does that to us: it exposes us as failing sinners in need of rescue and grace. (See John 3:19-21.)

But we are not left hopeless. This new birth is "from above" according to God's free will and grace (John 3:8). For those of us willing to admit our need, God's grace toward us in Christ exceeds our sinfulness, and there is mercy to cover every mar (Romans 5:20-21; 1 John 1:5-10). Jesus took the final exam for us and passed with an A+++++. Neither are we left alone. In our baptismal calling to repent and learn a new life we are given Christ's own Spirit, who himself cleanses out our old life and fits us for life in God's kingdom. We have dwelling within us the very power which raised our Lord from the dead, animating and renewing us as well. For us who believe, the power of the old self has already been broken, and we're no longer in slavery to sin (Romans 6:1-14). Will we submit to Christ the Lord and allow that power to work within us to teach us how to live, to teach us true wisdom, and to make us not just washed up, nice people, but entirely new people?

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*We see here that this rebirth of which Jesus speaks is a human impossibility. He meant no less. It had to be a work of God. No human conceives himself in the womb, develops himself, or initiates his birth by his own actions and decisions.

**Notice that Jesus water-and-Spirit talk, while predominantly a reference to Ezekiel 36:25-27, echoes the creation account in which "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. . . . And the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters" (Genesis 1:1, 2). Jesus is speaking of a new creation that God's Spirit brings about and in which believers participate.

Big Answer to Prayer

"They will tell of the power of your awesome works,
and I will proclaim your great deeds.
They will celebrate your abundant goodness
and joyfully sing of your righteousness."
(Psalm 145:6-7)

In this spirit I want to make public a big answer to prayer for which my wife Olivia and I are really thankful.

Since moving to Richmond Olivia had not been able to find a full-time teaching job. She has begun working part-time at a local Christian preschool--a job which she enjoys a lot. But that wasn't elementary school teaching, what she really wants to do. Two months of job searching yielded no real fruit. But then a week ago she had interviewed for and was offered two jobs: (1) The first was a special education aide job for thirty hours per week all year long in Henrico County. The hourly pay wasn't stupendous, and Olivia wouldn't really be teaching per se, but it would be a consistent paycheck all year long. (2) The second was a two-week-long substitute teaching job for a friend of ours in Hanover County. This job was high paying daily and offered the possibility of find more work later in the year, but it was only two weeks' worth of guaranteed work. It would also allow Olivia to actually teach.

For us it seemed like a really difficult choice. Olivia had to make a decision by the next morning (Tuesday, Oct. 6). We were pretty stressed over it, but we knew we really needed to be thanking God for even having a stressful choice between two jobs in the first place! She had gone from total unemployment to a fun part-time job and two viable job offers in just a few weeks.

As we talked and prayed late into the night last Monday, what became increasingly clear to me was not that we should ask God for something to tip the scales in favor of one job over the other. Rather, we needed to pray in the knowledge that no job is a "guarantee," and having a stable budget is not what brings us security (Luke 12:1-34). God our Father is our sovereign provider, not any job or school. We decided to scrap praying for clarity regarding the job choice and rather for greater trust in God to be with us and to uphold us, for faith in and dependence upon him each day and week for our vitality. We asked God also that no matter which job we chose, that Olivia would work wholeheartedly and that I would support her as best as I can.

As we prayed this--which wasn't easy, but it's what we needed and what honored God the most--it also seemed clearer to me that God has given us our work as a vocation to enjoy. I wanted Olivia to have the freedom to do what she thrives at, which in this case we thought would be the long-term sub job. Plus taking this two-week job would both allow and demand that God open more doors for future jobs, rather than leaving us in a "secure" but inflexible position. So in the end this is what we decided upon.

On Tuesday morning Olivia accepted that job and then had another interview for a second long-term sub job in Hanover County: and this time a three-month-long one. She got offered that job, too! This is a huge gift from God, a big boost to our income, and a relieving confirmation to Olivia that she is a good teacher. God met our prayers and honored our desire to put trust in him to lead us through the dark instead of wanting to have all our circumstances organized and clear.

Thanks be to God for his lovingkindness toward us and his bereket in our lives!*

Our fascination with the will of God often betrays our lack of trust in God's promises and provision. We don't just want his word that he will be with us; we want him to show us the end from the beginning and prove to us that he can be trusted.

. . . 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.

~ Kevin DeYoung, pastor of University Reformed Church,
East Lansing, Michigan

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*Bereket is one of my favorite words. It's Turkish for "blessing," "fullness," or "abundance."

How To Avoid Jesus

"[T]he way to avoid Jesus was to avoid sin."

~ Flannery O'Connor, Wise Blood

Faith as a Gift

Some of you may have noticed in my previous post that I said faith itself--God opening our "clenched fist" to receive His gift--is itself a gift from God. This sounds crazy and controversial, because in the Bible we are clearly held accountable for disbelief. Here are a few straightforward examples from the Fourth Gospel.

"Whoever believes in him [Jesus the Son] is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because he has not believed in the name of God's one and only Son." (John 3:18)

"Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life, but whoever rejects the Son will not see life, for God's wrath remains on him." (John 3:36)

"I [Jesus] told you that you would die in your sins; if you do not believe that I am the one I claim to be, you will indeed die in your sins." (John 8:24)

However, there is good evidence to believe that Scripture also teaches that faith itself is a work of God in a person, a gracious gift.

"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast" (Ephesians 2:8-9 NIV). What is the antecedent of "this" in verse 8? Well, there is only one noun in the preceding clause: faith. One way of rendering this passage is "and this faith through which you are saved is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God."

In the immediate context, Paul is teaching the Ephesians (Laodiceans?) how God, because of his great love and mercy, gave them life in Christ when they were spiritually dead toward God. Their salvation was a gracious work of God, not the result of their own efforts. But, as the ESV renders, this whole salvation-through-faith is a gift of God: "and this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God . . ." Those who are spiritually dead and by nature children of wrath (2:3-5) do not exercise trust in God, love for him, and repentance. This salvation-through-faith is a gift of God.

"For it has been granted to you that for the sake of Christ you should not only believe in him but also suffer for his sake" (Philippians 1:29). Paul says--and takes for granted that the Philippians already knew this--that "it has been granted to you [by God] that . . . you should . . . believe in him." The idea of a grant is that of a gift given to someone. This faith is a gift from God.

"Simon Peter, a servant and apostle of Jesus Christ,
To those who through the righteousness of our God and Savior Jesus Christ have received a faith as precious as ours:" (2 Peter 1:1). "Faith" here is not "the faith," the apostolic doctrinal deposit. It is trust in God's saving work through Jesus the Messiah, and the recipients of this letter, like Peter and the apostles, had also obtained such a faith. Notice that this faith is (a) received from without, not conjured up from within; and (b) it is procured solely through the righteousness of Jesus Christ. Faith itself seems to be a gift obtained by Christ for his people through his atoning work on the cross.

"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, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will" (2 Timothy 2:24-26). Here we see that not only faith, but also repentance is a gift from God. Paul says that Timothy ought to be gentle, and not quarrelsome, with his opponents because God might graciously give ("grant") them repentance and escape from Satan's snares.

"When they heard this, they had no further objections and praised God, saying, 'So then, God has granted even the Gentiles repentance unto life' " (Acts 11:18). Here again, repentance is a gift granted by God.

This is the reality of the grace of God, expressed so boldly in the words of John Owen: "To suppose that whatever God requireth of us we have power of ourselves to do, is to make the cross and grace of Jesus Christ of none effect." Even the faith which God requires of us for justification and life is a gift from his gracious hand. The apostle Paul knew this, that the whole of his salvation was of grace, and not just the offering to him of Christ. Its reality burned in his heart, and it turned his life into a life of gratitude.

"For who makes you different from anyone else? What do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as though you did not?" (1 Corinthians 4:7 NIV). Everything we have is a gift received from without, coming down from heaven (James 1:17). On this basis, Paul admonishes the Corinthians, who boasted of their spiritual superiority over others, because even their very own Christian spirituality itself was an undeserved blessing.

Later in this same letter, Paul expresses that only by God's grace is he a faithful apostle: "But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them, though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me" (1 Corinthians 15:10). Paul knew that he didn't deserve to be a saved sinner who knew and cherished (believed in) Jesus; but he was such "by the grace of God." And this same grace is what turned him into the bold missionary he had become.

I know I haven't addressed how such a God-given faith can be required of us, nor how faith is still our own faith and an act of our own will and volition. These are tricky questions, but I believe the Bible gives an answer to both of them. But I hope you see that the very fact that you ever "made a decision for Christ" or "accepted Jesus as your Savior" or "committed yourself to Jesus as Lord" is itself a work of God's goodness and love in your life when you were dead in sin and alienated from him. It was God's arms reaching out to embrace you long before you ever reached out to embrace him. And because of such--because salvation rests not on the strength of your decisions and commitments but on the grace and saving purposes of God--you can rest secure in his love.

What Wondrous Love Is This?

"For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you through His poverty might become rich." (2 Corinthians 8:9)

I was listening to this early 19th-century hymn, "What Wondrous Love Is This?" by Alexander Means on my drive home tonight. I must have sung it five times. I love it because it captures the gospel of God so well.

What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul!
What wondrous love is this, O my soul!
What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul, for my soul,
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul.

When I was sinking down, sinking down, sinking down,
When I was sinking down, sinking down,
When I was sinking down beneath God’s righteous frown,
Christ laid aside His crown for my soul, for my soul,
Christ laid aside His crown for my soul.

To God and to the Lamb, I will sing, I will sing;
To God and to the Lamb, I will sing.
To God and to the Lamb Who is the great “I Am”;
While millions join the theme, I will sing, I will sing;
While millions join the theme, I will sing.

And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing on, I’ll sing on;
And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing on.
And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing and joyful be;
And through eternity, I’ll sing on, I’ll sing on;
And through eternity, I’ll sing on.

In the arrangement to which I was listening, between the third and fourth stanzas was added this bridge, which is what really gave me the chills:

What wondrous love is this!
Though I raised my clen-ched fist,
He opened up my hand to receive His gift!
And what wondrous love is here!
The God immortal has drawn near
And shed His blood to close the rift.

Now that is real grace! That even though we were hostile toward God and shook our fists at him in defiance and spit on the face of his Son, he still gave his life so that we would be forgiven and reconciled. And if that weren't enough, God even himself granted us the faith he requires of us in order to receive the gift of Christ!

"And you, who were once alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him." (Colossians 1:21-22)

"For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast." (Ephesians 2:8-9)

Spurgeon on Faith

"Faith is believing that Christ is what He is said to be, and that He will do what He has promised to do, and then to expect this of Him."

-- Charles H. Spurgeon, All of Grace

I find this quote to be very encouraging. So often in moments of doubt or decision I've had to take God's Word--what he has revealed about himself and what he declares he has done and will do for us in the new covenant in Christ (2 Corinthians 1:20)--and take it right back to him and hold him to it. And that gives me strength, because God is unshakeable, faithful, and true.

Jesus' Baptism and Ours: A Two-Way Act?

As I've continued thinking and studying what the Scriptures say about baptism, an interesting thought occurred to me: Is there a difference between what we do and what God does in this rite? In general, the Reformation churches (i.e., Reformed, Anglican, Lutheran) and some Methodists focus on baptism as an act of God. Conversely, other evangelicals (e.g., Baptists) see baptism as an act in which repentant sinners confess their sin and "appeal to God for a good conscience" (1 Peter 3:21). Consider the oft-neglected story of Jesus' baptism:

"John appeared, baptizing in the wilderness and proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And all the country of Judea were going out to him and were being baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. . . .

"In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And when he came up out of the water, immediately he saw the heavens opening and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, 'You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.'" (Mark 1:4-5, 9-11)

On one hand, Baptists would probably point out that in this baptism sinners who wished to repent of their sins and inaugurate a new way of life came to the river and confessed their sins as they underwent baptism (vv. 4-5). On the other hand, Reformed folk (such as I) would point out that when Jesus is baptized, the heavens open and the Father declares to Jesus the reality of his identity (vv. 9-11). Both realities are present here--and elsewhere in the Bible as well.

Baptism as a human act. Every single reference to baptism in the New Testament is a passive act. That is, converts are called to "be baptized," not to baptize themselves. It is always an act done by someone else upon the baptisand.* (If you can find an exception to this, please do point it out!) For this reason, I find it very difficult to believe that baptism is a symbolic rite in which a new convert signifies his own faith. The Scriptures never say that. What action is present upon the baptisand's part in the NT is this: Acknowledging one's sinfulness and calling on God for mercy in the name of Jesus the Messiah-Savior. (See Matthew 3:13-16; Mark 1:4-5; Luke 3:3; Acts 2:21, 36-41; 22:16; 1 Peter 3:21). Even in his own baptism, though himself sinless, Jesus identifies with sinful humanity and "repents," in order to "fulfill all righteousness" (Matthew 3:15). He acknowledged his need for cleansing and came to the waters, appealing for mercy.

Baptism as a divine act. If the baptisand is always passive, then who is the real actor? It is no less than all three persons of the Triune God in action. Here we see easily enough that God spoke to Jesus, his Word confirming to Jesus his identity as the beloved Son. He also confirmed to Jesus his calling as the Messiah who would undergo another "baptism" on the cross (John 1:31; Luke 12:50). The Spirit also descends on Jesus--and we often see the Spirit in Scripture active in bringing God's Word in light and power to our hearts (1 Corinthians 2:10-16). But above all things, Jesus is the real Baptizer in the Bible. John repeatedly testified that while he baptized with water, Jesus would baptize with the Holy Spirit (Mark 1:8 and parallels). So as Jesus has ascended, he (along with the Father) pours out his Spirit into men to give them new birth and to bring God's Word home to their hearts.**

In baptism believers are divinely joined to Jesus' death and raised to newness of life (Romans 6:3-4). They are ingrafted into the church, the body of Christ (1 Corinthians 12:13). They are clothed with Christ and also identified as "sons of God" (Galatians 3:26-27). God confirms to believers in baptism the righteousness that they possess by faith (Romans 4:11) and that he is cleansed and renewed within (Acts 22:16; Titus 3:5).

Instead of signifying the convert's faith, we see in baptism the visible Word--the testimony of the Spirit--that the believer who repents and embraces Christ in faith, he is confirmed as a child of God, cleansed and washed from sin within, reborn in righteousness, joined to Jesus' body, and sealed by the Spirit for the kingdom's possession. Or, perhaps more accurately, the New Covenant promises which are "Yes" in Christ (2 Corinthians 1:20) are not only confirmed by God in general, but their reality for and upon the believer is confirmed in baptism.

The two acts together. If we put the two together, we could see God, in baptism, shaking hands on promises he has made. On one hand, from the human viewpoint baptism is an act in which a repentant believer accepts his judgment-and-cleansing in Christ and submits to live under Christ in his kingdom (Matthew 28:19; 1 Peter 3:19-21). On the other hand, from the divine viewpoint God confirms to him who believes that he truly has a new identity in Christ as "my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased." He confirms the believer's rebirth and cleansing by Spiritual union with Christ and his body. And in baptism the believer has a new destiny and calling as well--one of God-exalting, cross-bearing, Spirit-fueled discipleship and pilgrimage on the way toward future glory.

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What do you think? I'm not 100% sure about this yet, but it seems biblically consistent to me right now. I'm continually astounded at the potency of salvation-realities ascribed to the baptized in the NT, which is leading me away from a Reformed covenantal view into this version of credobaptism--or at least a greater measure of ambivalence. (I say "leading away" because I'm not yet fully convinced of it.) I am having an increasingly difficult time figuring out how to apply NT texts concerning baptism's effects to those who are baptized yet don't exhibit the marks of new birth (e.g., some infants as well as those who merely profess faith but do not possess it). Yet at the same time, I'm not willing to embrace the overly subjective idea that baptism is simply a public profession of faith or a mirror of one's conversion experience. To do so would deny the way the NT points to baptism in an admonishing or encouraging manner, since faith is nothing--it's merely the hand that receives Christ and his benefits. And this distorts the point of faith anyway, that is, to look away from oneself and one's own decisions, commitments, and merits to those of Christ alone on our behalf.
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*One could argue that Acts 22:16 provides a contradictory example: "And now why do you [Saul] wait? Rise and be baptized and wash away your sins, calling on his name." Saul here is said to wash away his own sins--active on his part. (I'm not sure what to make of this yet or how to reconcile it with the rest of the NT.) But the point is that he is still passively baptized.

**Consider that Luke wrote his Gospel to record what Jesus "began to do and teach, until the day he was taken up" (Acts 1:1-2), implying that Jesus is everywhere active in the book of Acts by his Spirit and church.

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!

______________
* "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)

____________________
*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.

_______________________
*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.