The preface to idolatry

James K.A. Smith:

While we all purport to be praying to Jesus the Christ, risen and ascended and seated at the right hand of the Father, instead we end up praying to whatever domesticated version of Jesus suits our tastes and preferences. So everyone around the table starts to share: "I like to picture Jesus as . . . " This is the preface to all of our idolatries. And it functions as a debilitating filter when we read the Bible. The Scriptures are no longer revelation; they are simply a mirror. Instead of encountering Jesus there, we simply see ourselves.

Lord, save us from this. Lord, save me from this!

BTW this quote comes from the Foreword to what looks like a very worthwhile book.

Chris Broussard makes a defense

Tuesday I posted on the controversy surrounding reporter Chris Broussard's comments on ESPN's "Outside the Lines" about NBA player Jason Collins coming out as a gay man -- the first male athlete in a major American sports league to do so. Yesterday Broussard went on NYC's Power 105.1 FM morning show to defend his views. It's apparent that the hosts are trying to bait Broussard into saying something scandalous and/or back-track on his beliefs. Broussard doesn't take the bait and beautifully demonstrates how to put 1 Peter 3:14-16 into practice.

Give this a listen.


 

Not slow. Patient.

This is a lightly edited post from 2008


As I drove the same route I drive every Friday afternoon I was struck by how unremarkable today seemed. It didn't feel right. This sense of normalcy. Shouldn't we all be on our knees mourning? There were the same angry aggressive drivers. The same cool cats hungrily eyeing luxury cars at the Jaguar dealership. The homeless man panhandling in the intersection of Palm Beach Lakes and Australian. Hard-hat workers pouring concrete. Mothers with strollers waiting at the bus stop. All seemingly heedless of the fact that today is incomparable -- perhaps aware that today is some kind of religious day -- but in many cases dead to the fact that their eternal destiny is bound up with the event remembered.

Today is Good Friday, but so is every day. It's no more tragic that millions pay scant attention to the Crucified and Risen Christ on this day as any other. I'm reminded of Peter's words in chapter 3 verse 9 of his second letter, "The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance."

By this time tomorrow another Good Friday will have come and gone (unless verse 10 happens) and he will be patient still.

Wednesday Wendell: reserving the right to disagree

I've been involved in a lively debate at the Wendell Berry Society Facebook page about Berry's recent talk expanding on previous comments supporting same-sex marriage.  Much of what he said to a gathering of Baptist ministers I agree with, but I can't follow his argument to the conclusion that individual Christians and churches that refuse to affirm "gay marriage" are continuing, in Berry's words, "the history of Christian war, torture, terror, slavery and annihilation against Jews, Muslims, black Africans, American Indians and others." I also disagree with his seeming acceptance of the modern construct of sexual orientation:  a concept the Bible -- which Berry often cites as a source of wisdom and guidance -- knows nothing of.

Berry reminds us that the Bible says much more about adultery and fornication than it does about homosexuality, and he's right to point out the hypocrisy when Christians single out one sort of behavior as "perversion" while ignoring wide swathes of scripture. I for one am dismayed at the easy acceptance of divorce among evangelicals, and as I've written before, the cheerleading of some defenders of traditional marriage for an economic system that undermines the values they claim to uphold. Berry is absolutely right that heterosexual marriage needs less to be defended and more to be practiced.

Nevertheless, I believe scripture and the overwhelming consensus of the church around the world, and down thru the ages, is that same-sex behavior is sin and that God's design for marriage is one man, one woman, for life. This design isn't rooted in any man-made tradition or law, but in His creation -- a creation that Wendell Berry movingly celebrates in his writings. Yes, the Bible has a lot more to say about loving our neighbor than homosexuality, but it doesn't follow that Christian are free to ignore what it has to say about the latter.

I'm sad that my hero has taking this position -- and there's a lot more that could be said -- but I'll let Mr. Berry have the last word.

Kindness from readers is something that no essayist (and no writer of any other kind) has a right to expect. The kindness I have received from readers I count as the only profit from my work that is entirely net. I am always grateful for it and often am deeply moved by it. 

But kindness is not—is never—the same as complete agreement. An essayist not only has no right to expect complete agreement but has a certain responsibility to ward it off. If you tell me, dear reader, that you agree with me completely, then I must suspect one or both of us of dishonesty. I must reserve the right, after all, to disagree with myself. 

But however much I may change my mind, I will never agree with those saleswomen and salesmen who suggest that if I will only do as they say, all will be fine. All, dear reader, is not going to be fine. Even if we all agreed with all the saints and prophets, all would not be fine. For we would still be mortal, partial, suffering poor creatures, not very intelligent and never the authors of our best hope.

Quote from the Preface to Sex, Economy, Freedom & Community (pp. xix-xx)

Napoleon and the sovereignty of God

Charles Spurgeon -- from his sermon "God's Providence". . .

Napoleon once heard it said, that man proposes and God disposes. "Ah," said Napoleon, "but I propose and dispose too." How do you think he proposed and disposed. He proposed to go and take Russia; he proposed to make all Europe his. He proposed to destroy that power, and how did he come back again? How had he disposed of it? He came back solitary and alone, his mighty army perished and wasted, having well-nigh eaten and devoured one another through hunger. Man proposes and God disposes.

Quoted by Jerry Bridges in Trusting God: Even When Life Hurts, Chapter 5 "God's Rule over the Nations" (NavPress, 2008)

See also 2 Chronicles 20:6, Daniel 4:17, Isaiah 40:23-24, Acts 4:27-28, Romans 13:1, etc.

Unconditional Grace?

Here's a thought provoking quote from Tim Keller (Ministries of Mercy: The Call of the Jericho Road, pp. 226-7).

Grace is not unconditional acceptance, but it is undeserved. That is a very difficult balance to strike! God's grace comes to us without prerequisites, finding us as we are. God's grace does not come to the "deserving" (there is no such person), and it does not discriminate. Rather, initially it comes to us freely. But once it enters into our lives, God's grace demands changes; it holds us accountable. Why? Grace demands our holiness and growth for our sake as well as for God's glory. Grace intercepts destructive behavior, protects us from the ravages of sin, sanctifies us so we can be "holy and happy," two inseparable qualities.

In summary, grace is undeserved caring that intercepts destructive behavior. It is not unconditional acceptance, nor is it a legalism that says, "Shape us or I will stop loving you." Rather, it says, "Your sin cannot separate you from me," and then, in addition, says, "I won't let your sin destroy you." Grace comes to the unlovely person, but refuses to let him remain ugly. Grace begins as "justification," a free act of God alone, but it becomes "sanctification," a process by which the person cooperates with God in spiritual growth.

I find that a helpful distinction because it challenges my tendency to make grace cheap. Bonhoeffer's classic definition of "cheap grace" is worth repeating -- "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."

In other words, it's the grace we gladly extend to ourselves, with no strings attached. But the grace of God is different. We see it modeled in the earthly ministry of Jesus: the perfect balance of grace and truth. He healed and forgave the undeserving, but he didn't leave it at that. His free grace was accompanied by a message of repentance. "Go and sin no more." Divine grace shakes things up.

For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works.  (Titus 2:11-14)

Harmony not unison

Ned Stonehouse (1902 - 1962) was one of the foremost New Testament scholars of his day. Stonehouse was an associate of J. Gresham Machen and succeeded Machen as Professor of New Testament at Westminster Theological Seminary Philadelphia. Stonehouse's area of special interest was the Synoptic gospels, and among his books on the subject is Origins of the Synoptic Gospels published in 1963. I suppose some of this material has been overtaken by subsequent developments, but this is a solid treatment of questions that continue to come up in debates over the reliability of the gospels -- you know, the kind of thing you're likely to hear from NT debunkers like Bart Ehrman and Bill Maher.

Matthew, Mark and Luke present us with some challenging problems, not least in the area of harmonization. Details differ in the reporting of events in Jesus' life, and perhaps more challenging are the divergences in Jesus' words as reported by the evangelists. Stonehouse tackles this head on using the story of The Rich Young Ruler as an example (see Matthew 19:16-30, Mark 10:17-31 and Luke 18:18-30). The basic outline of the story and the fundamental thrust of Jesus' teaching are the same, but there are some key differences as well. Matthew (assuming Mark came first and that Matthew relied on the Marcan text) changes Jesus' reply to the young man from "Why do you call me good?" to "Why do you ask me about what is good?" Also, Matthew changes by addition and subtraction Mark's account of Jesus' response to Peter's statement ("See, we have left everything and followed you.") in such a way to put the stress on the eschatological rewards for those who leave all to follow him.

There are two ways scholars have approached the differences in the gospel accounts. Those who want to defend the canonical gospels often flatten out the differences by minimizing them or insisting the writers must be reporting different events or different sayings. In the opposite camp are those like Ehrman who see discrepancies everywhere and use them as evidence that the gospels can't be trusted. Here Stonehouse describes how Christians can defend the trustworthiness of the gospels without obliterating the human factor.

There is, in my judgment, a sounder attitude to most problems of harmonization than that which was characterized above as conservative and simple. It is marked by the exercise of greater care in determining what the Gospels as a whole and in detail actually say as well as greater restraint in arriving at conclusions where the available evidence does not justify ready answers. In particular, there is the possibility of genuine progress if one does not maintain that the trustworthiness of the Gospels allows the evangelists no liberty of composition whatsoever, and does not insist that in reporting the words of Jesus, for example, they must have been characterized by a kind of notarial exactitude or what Professor John Murray has called "pedantic precision." Inasmuch as this point seems constantly to be overlooked or disregarded in the modern situation it may be well to stress again that orthodox expositors and defenders of the infallibility of Scripture have consistently made the point that infallibility is not properly understood if it is supposed that it carries with it the implication that the words of Jesus as reported in the Gospels are necessarily the ipsissima verba ["the very words"]. What is involved rather is that the Holy Spirit guided the human authors in such a way as to insure that their records give an accurate and trustworthy impression of the Lord's teachings.

Quote from pp. 109-110 of Origins of the Synoptic Gospels [bold emphasis mine]

What the Ascension made possible

And when he had said these things, as they were looking on, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. And while they were gazing into heaven as he went, behold, two men stood by them in white robes, and said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.” - Acts 1:9-11

In the minds of the apostles the ascension of Jesus was as important as his life, death, and resurrection. It was the same for the early church fathers. Both the Apostles' and Nicene Creeds confess that Jesus ascended into Heaven, to a place of honor at the right hand of the Father, from which he will return to judge the living and the dead. A contemporary expression is found in the popular praise chorus: "From the cross to the grave/From the grave to the sky/Lord, I lift Your name on high."

Though the disciples couldn't comprehend it at the time, it was better for them that Jesus returned to the Father. "Do not cling to me," the risen Jesus says to Mary Magdalene (John 20:17). The ascension unleashed a multitude of benefits, not least of which was the sending of the Holy Spirit. The ascension was the crowning achievement of Christ's work. It was like a detonator that unleashed the power of Christmas, Good Friday and Easter beyond the bounds of time and space.

In being taken up Jesus was once again taking on all the attributes of glory he enjoyed since before the world began. It marked the end of the temporary "emptying" that the Apostle Paul writes about in Philippians 2. But there's more. In a real sense the ascension was a taking up into glory of human nature in an entirely new way. Jesus didn't cast off his human nature when he returned to the Father. This is why the New Testament writers can make such astonishing claims about the believer's present union with Christ. Paul goes so far as to say that we are seated with Christ in the heavenly places (Eph. 2:6, see also Col. 3:3-4). I think he means that more literally than we are apt to take it.

The Reformation Study Bible (Ligonier, 2005) summarizes three facts established by The Ascension.

Christ's personal ascendancy. Ascension means accession. To sit at the Father's right hand is to occupy the position of ruler on God's behalf (Matt. 28:18; 1 Cor. 15:27; Eph. 1:20-22; 1 Peter 3:22).

Christ's spiritual omnipresence. In the heavenly sanctuary of the heavenly Zion (Heb. 9:24; 12:22-24), Jesus is accessible to all who invoke His name (Heb. 4:14), and powerful to help them, anywhere in the world (Heb. 4:16; 7:25; 13:6-8).

Christ's heavenly ministry. The reigning Lord intercedes for His people (Rom. 8:34; Heb. 7:25). Though requesting from the Father is part of what He does (John 14:16), the essence of Christ's intercession is intervention in our interest rather than supplication on our behalf (as if His position were one of sympathy without status or authority). In sovereignty He now lavishes upon us the benefits that His suffering won for us. From his throne He sends the Holy Spirit constantly to enrich His people (John 16:7-14: Acts 2:33) and equip them for service (Eph. 4:8-12).

Further Reading: Was Jesus the first spaceman?

Tim Keller Q & A

Recently Tim Keller fielded some very tough questions at Oxford University. Now more than ever these are the types of questions Christians need to be equipped to answer.

Watch and listen here

And a hat tip to the blogger who edited these videos!

Goodness and Mercy

Goodness and mercy are of the essence of God. They are foundational to his character as revealed to us thru the witness of scripture, and the incarnate Word, Jesus Christ: "the exact imprint of his [God's] nature" (Heb. 1:3). The Psalmist artfully personifies, and makes personal, God's goodness and mercy in the closing of Psalm 23.

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever."

Here David expresses a confident belief (surely!) that he's hemmed in by goodness and mercy. Douglas MacMillan illustrates this with a story he once heard told by a Scottish Highland preacher. I love this!

I remember listening to an old Highland shepherd, an elder, preaching on this verse. He was only an old shepherd, not a fancy theologian, but he was wonderful. He said, 'What do I think of when I think of goodness and mercy? I think of the fellows taking the sheep home, walking down the road there with their sticks. The sheep are coming behind them, and behind the sheep are the two dogs, and one is called Goodness and the other is called Mercy.' He said, 'You watch them; sheep being what they are, when the shepherd's back is turned, they'll try and sneak off the road. You see a sheep on one side, and off it goes trying to get back to the pasture and the mountains. Without even the shepherd whistling, what happens? Goodness runs out and circles the sheep and turns it back into the flock and into the path of God. Then, a little further along the road,' he said, 'another one will do the same, or two or three will do it, and there you will see Mercy running out and turning the sheep back too. Ah!', he said, 'they are two lovely dogs, Goodness and Mercy.' I think if I was still shepherding, and I still had two dogs, I would call one Goodness and I would call the other Mercy, because it's a very true picture. . . . We deserve nothing but His wrath, and yet daily His goodness and His mercy are following us. David says that they follow us 'all the days of our lives'.

Where would we be if not for divine goodness and mercy?


Quote from The Lord Our Shepherd (pp. 82-3)

I shall not want

There are only two negatives in the Twenty-Third Psalm. "I shall not want" and "I will fear no evil". Yet, we're prone to doing just those things the Psalmist says he won't do -- living in fear, and wanting what we don't have. If we are the Lord's sheep we have all we need to live confident contented lives.

What exactly does it mean to "not want"? Certainly part of the meaning is that we'll lack for nothing, but it's more than that. It's easy to miss the plain meaning of the word "want". Here's more from Douglas MacMillan's exposition of Psalm 23 . . .

. . . this word means more than mere lack: it means just what the word 'want' originally meant. It means that I will not be discontented with my lot; I will not be hungering and craving after things that God has forbidden me, because I will find my all, my fulness, in the One who is my Shepherd. My knowledge that I shall suffer no lack will give me contentment . . . . One of the things which is fundamental to the whole business and profession of a shepherd is this: enough passion to see that his sheep will have all that they need, and enough sense to see that they will not get what will harm or destroy them. That is the kind of shepherd, and that is the kind of satisfaction, that the Christian believer finds in Christ. 'I shall not want.'

MacMillan suggests that when we find contentment and satisfaction in Christ lacking -- when we find ourselves wanting -- it's because our eyes have been drawn away from the promises of God's Word. He encourages the reader to "use your Scripture, allow God to fortress and garrison your heart with the great strength of His promises and of His logical grace."

Another way to stay close to our shepherd is to stay close to his flock. Christian fellowship and regular attention to the ordinary means of grace (the reading and preaching of the word, prayer, and the sacraments) are the things that keep us anchored to our hope in Christ (Heb. 6:19).


Quotes from J. Douglas MacMillan, The Lord Our Shepherd (pp. 50-1)

Have you begun to follow?

More than once Christians have been scoffed at as "poor, ignorant, and easily led." Christianity, indeed all religion -- so the argument goes -- is for weak-minded folks who don't want to think for themselves. It creates followers not independent thinkers and doers. My Dylanesque rejoinder to the man who prides himself on his autonomy and independent thought is. . . you gotta serve somebody.

The critics are partly right. The essence of being a Christian is to be led. It's to be a follower. That's what a disciple of Jesus Christ does. He follows his master. One of the most common biblical pictures of this is that of a sheep following a shepherd. Not very flattering is it?

Jesus: "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me." (John 10:27)

Douglas MacMillan (The Lord Our Shepherd) unpacks some of the implications that "hearing" and "following" have for the Lord's sheep -- those who can say with David: "The LORD is MY shepherd." In this post I shared some of MacMillan's insights on hearing. Now here is Scotsman MacMillan on following.

I suppose if you asked everyone here what a Christian is, they could give you a different definition and still be within the framework of Scripture. But here is a very simple definition. A Christian is a person who follows Jesus. Do you remember the story of blind Bartimaeus? He was healed, and the last thing that we read of him is this: 'he . . . followed Jesus in the way' (Mark 10:52). This phrase 'following Jesus' is so descriptive of what a Christian really is that on the west coast of Scotland, the Gaelic-speaking regions, we use it to denominate a Christian. If you were on the Isle of Lewis, for example, and somebody was gloriously converted, you would say, 'So and so has begun to follow', and nobody in Lewis would misunderstand you. . . . Often when we are asked to say what a Christian is we do so in completely unbiblical terms. 'A Christian is someone who goes to chapel or church; or they are Baptists or Presbyterians; or they wear certain clothes or do their hair a certain way; or they don't smoke or drink; or they don't dress like this or listen to that kind of music.' You know, an awful lot of it is sheer rubbish! A Christian is a follower of Jesus. . .

If you are following it means that you are being led. It's like a rowboat being pulled by a large yacht. Suddenly, the tow-rope goes taut, and you're moving out of the harbour. This "simple definition" of what a Christian is assuages our doubts and strengthens our assurance that we are indeed a child of God.

No matter how you feel or what else is true of you, if God in His grace has brought your life under direction and made you follow Christ, then that is one of the best signs you can have. If that is true of you, then you have nothing to be afraid of.

That's great stuff, and this is a great book!

Quotes from J. Douglas MacMillan, The Lord Our Shepherd (pp. 39-41)

Comfort for a New Year

Since New Year's Day fell on Sunday this year it was beautifully appropriate to be reminded of Heidelberg Catechism, Lord's Day 1. This isn't exactly a New Year's resolution, but living one's life in light of these truths is transformative.

Q. 1. What is thy only comfort in life and death?

A. That I with body and soul, both in life and death, am not my own, but belong unto my faithful Saviour Jesus Christ; who, with his precious blood, has fully satisfied for all my sins, and delivered me from all the power of the devil; and so preserves me that without the will of my heavenly Father, not a hair can fall from my head; yea, that all things must be subservient to my salvation, and therefore, by his Holy Spirit, He also assures me of eternal life, and makes me sincerely willing and ready, henceforth, to live unto him.


Q. 2. How many things are necessary for thee to know, that thou, enjoying this comfort, mayest live and die happily?

A. Three; the first, how great my sins and miseries are; the second, how I may be delivered from all my sins and miseries; the third, how I shall express my gratitude to God for such deliverance.


I'm not one to make resolutions, but if I was Psalm 34:1 would be a good one.

I will bless the LORD at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth.

In other words: I'll bless God even when I'm not feeling "blessed" -- which in American Christian parlance often means "my life is going so great right now." The Psalms turn the language of blessing upside down, where it's more about God's people blessing him by loving and fearing him, than about God blessing us.

Happy New Year, dear readers!

The Lord's sheep hear his voice (MacMillan)

Jesus said that hearing him and following him were distinguishing marks of his sheep. Commenting on John 10:27 -- "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me" -- Charles Spurgeon said that Christians "have a mark in their ear and a mark in their foot." Douglas MacMillan, who spent years tending sheep before he became a minister, explains that hearing the Good Shepherd's voice is more than an aural experience.

With every sheep that I brought home to take into the flock, the first thing I had to do was to take a big, long, sharp, killing knife. I was not going to cut their throats, but I was going to mark their ears. In Scotland we call it a 'lug mark'. It was my particular mark and it marked that sheep out as mine. Now that is not the kind of mark that Spurgeon meant when he said that the Christian has a mark in his ear. The kind of thing he was talking about was what Jesus had in mind here—'they hear my voice'. There are two words in Greek for hearing, and it is interesting to note that the one that is used here means not simply 'to hear a sound' but 'to hear and to understand'—hearing with understanding. (Gaelic has two words for hearing, as well, and makes exactly the same distinction.)

Now that is a perfect illustration of what happens when God's Spirit begins to work in the life of a sinner. They begin to hear. . . .

Often it's hard to distinguish the voice of Jesus from the other voices competing for our attention. How can one know that the Holy Spirit is at work calling us to repentance and faith? In short, when the gospel begins to have meaning and validity you are hearing the Shepherd's voice. When your thoughts and desires bend toward righteousness and holiness you are hearing the voice of Christ.

MacMillan tells how this happened in his own life. He grew up in a Christian home hearing the gospel from parents and pastors, but for 21 years he didn't have a clue what it was about. Then one day something changed.

The gospel was just jargon to me, and words like 'Come to Christ—trust in Christ—be born again' didn't mean a thing. Then all of a sudden the gospel began to have meaning for me. When a preacher said 'Come to Christ,' I knew exactly what he meant. When he said 'Trust your soul to the Lord Jesus,' I knew what he meant. When he said 'Christ died for your sins,' I thought that was wonderful. What was happening? I was not only hearing with the ear, I was understanding and I was listening, and I was drawing life into my soul. What had happened? I had become a sheep, and I understood the Shepherd's language and I knew the Shepherd's voice.

In theological terms what MacMillan experienced was regeneration, or the new birth. What was dead had been raised to life by the power of the Spirit. Spiritual blindness was replaced by spiritual sight. Of course, hearing the voice of Jesus necessarily leads to following him. More on that later.


Quotes from J. Douglas MacMillan, The Lord Our Shepherd (pp. 35-7)

The gateway to Psalm 23

There are many wonderful things in The Lord our Shepherd: an exposition of Psalm 23 by Free Church of Scotland minister J. Douglas MacMillan (1933 - 1991). The book is taken from a series of talks MacMillan gave in 1979, which gives it a warm conversational tone. According to those who sat under his ministry MacMillan was a giant in the pulpit. Before becoming a minister of the gospel he tended sheep in the hills of Scotland. Yes. He was a shepherd. Throughout the talks are stories from MacMillan's personal experience, and insights that those with no experience of sheep or shepherding would never see. I'll share some of those in later posts.

MacMillan begins by drawing out the shepherd theme from the Old Testament and then identifying the Shepherd of Psalm 23. Of course, to David, the Shepherd is Jehovah, the covenant God of Israel. Moving to the New Testament we see Jesus identifying himself as "the Good Shepherd" (John 10), which to a Jewish listener meant nothing less than calling himself God. They knew very well that the only Good Shepherd was the one revealed in the Hebrew Scriptures as the Shepherd of Israel. No wonder then that this affirmation is quickly followed by charges of blasphemy!

Later, the apostles call the risen Christ "the Great Shepherd" (Heb. 13:20) and "the Chief Shepherd" (1 Peter 5:4). In these NT uses of the shepherd theme the shepherd is linked to the atoning work of Jesus on the cross and the promise of his second coming in judgment.

By training the light of the New Testament on this most familiar of Psalms (so familiar that we miss its full import?) the author is able to draw out some amazing connections. Here is one.

What is the setting of Psalm 23? What do I mean by that? Well, where in your Bible do you find Psalm 23? You say, ‘Well, preacher, that's very easy. Psalm 23 comes after Psalm 22.’ That is absolutely right. But now I want to ask you another question: What is Psalm 22? Well, listen to it! Listen to its opening words: ‘My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?’ Where are we when we enter into Psalm 22? We are at a place called Calvary. Go through this psalm, and you are closer to Calvary than any of the Gospels can take you, because you are not merely looking at the One who is offering His life, but you are in His mind and you are in His heart. You are sharing and seeing His suffering, in a way that the history of the Gospels cannot allow you to see and share His suffering. You are listening to His heartbeat as He says, ‘They laugh me to scorn . . . saying, He trusted in the Lord . . . let him deliver him . . . strong bulls of Bashan have beset me round [Bashan was famous for its breeding bulls—strong terrifying animals] . . . I am poured out like water . . . they pierced my hands and feet.’

Where are we? We are at a place called Calvary, and we are seeing the Good Shepherd laying down His life for the sheep. We are seeing what it cost for Jesus to suffer and to offer. We are seeing what it cost this Shepherd (if I can put it like that) to get into Psalm 23. There was only one gateway for the Son of God to become the Shepherd of the sheep, and that was by the gateway of Psalm 22 and His suffering on the cross. . . . Much more so, my friend, before you and I can get into Psalm 23, we have to go by the pathway of Psalm 22 as well.

Quote from The Lord our Shepherd (p. 19)

Moses' story. . . and mine

Psalm 90 is the only psalm attributed to Moses. It is a confession of faith and a prayer. The foundational truth is expressed at the beginning.

Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.

Bible scholars surmise that this prayer of Moses comes from the time when the Israelites were wandering the wilderness because of their unbelief. The psalm alternates between exalted affirmations of God's transcendent eternal characteristics, and plaintive descriptions of man's transitory finite existence. It's full of sublime poetry and rich theology.

Before the mountains were brought forth,
or ever you had formed the earth and the world,
from everlasting to everlasting you are God.

Importantly, this psalm arises out of the story of Moses and his generation. They had seen God's mighty hand of salvation in ways you and I probably never will. When's the last time God parted a large body of water for you, or led you on a journey with a pillar of fire and cloud? Moses had seen that, and much more. Indeed, he had come as close to Yahweh as any mortal ever had and lived to tell about it. Moses' expression of God's faithfulness arose out of his (and Israel's) history.

Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.

If this is Moses' story then what connection do I have to this ancient text, other than to admire it from afar? Can I -- a Gentile living thousands of years later -- make the same confession of faith as Moses? Can my generation be included in that "our"?

Moses himself predicted that a prophet like himself would come from Israel (Deuteronomy 18:15). After Moses came other great prophets, but they all pointed forward to one even greater. Jesus of Nazareth clearly saw himself as this one. After delivering his first recorded sermon in the Nazareth synagogue he sat down in the seat of Moses. He exposed the unbelief of the Jewish leaders by saying that if they truly believed Moses they would believe in him. After his resurrection he explained to the Emmaus disciples that everything in the Scriptures from Moses to the prophets was about him.

Later, the Apostles would make explicit what the Hebrew prophets hinted at -- Jesus, the Messiah of Israel, came to bring salvation to the nations. By his blood he destroyed the dividing wall of hostility between Jew and Gentile and brought near those who before were far off. Now we are being made a "dwelling place for God by the Spirit" (Ephesians 2:11-22).

Jesus is both the culmination and continuation of Israel's story. That story continues in the church, built on the foundation of the prophets and apostles. It continues in families who love and fear the God that Moses loved and feared, and it continues in the hearts of individual Christians. This grand story of redemption is brought into sharper focus during the season of Advent.

In Christ, my story and Moses' story merge into one. That's why I can say. . .

Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.

Once more on adoption

Jesus said to her, "Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them, 'I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'" John 20:17

This is a pivotal statement. The risen Jesus announces to Mary Magdalene the astonishing new relationship that's been created by his atoning death and resurrection. The disciples -- that bedraggled band of fearful misfits who abandoned their master at the hour of his greatest need -- Jesus now calls, "my brothers." His Father has now become their Father. This isn't a natural-born family relationship. It's adoption. An act of unmerited kindness toward those who by nature are enemies of God.

But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. John 1:12-13

Bible translators at work

Did you ever wonder how Bible translation happens? Here's a 4-minute video that shows just that. Other than the notebook computers and clothing styles not a lot has changed since that august group of 17th century Englishmen gave us the King James Version. In this example the English Standard Version (ESV) translation committee is debating how to translate the Hebrew word ebed and the Greek word doulos -- words often translated slave even though the original words can have various renderings depending on the context. This video demonstrates that translations of the Bible don't fall from the sky with a divine imprimatur, but are the result of diligent and prayerful scholarship. Whatever our preferred translation we should be thankful for the men and women who do the hard work of making it possible to read God's Word as accurately as possible in our own language.





via Justin Taylor

Adoption!

O how shall I the goodness tell,
Father, which Thou to me hast showed?
That I, a child of wrath and hell,
I should be called a child of God.
Charles Wesley wrote those ecstatic words in the grip of wonder at being adopted in Christ as a child of God. J.I. Packer argues that the truth of adoption is the key to unlocking the deepest insights into the gospel and the New Testament's teaching on the Christian life. This is true, he says, even though the word "adoption" appears only five times in the NT. I think Packer is absolutely right. Adoption is the crowning blessing of Christ's saving work, and when Scripture invites us to address God as Father, or think of ourselves as his children, adoption is in the background. It's because of adoption that we can pray, "Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name."

One of the few texts that explicitly mentions adoption is Galatians 4:4-7. Previous to this the Apostle Paul has been making the case that faith in Christ, not law-keeping, is what makes Jew and Gentile right with God and true children of Abraham, the exemplar of faith. Flowing out of justification is the blessing of adoption. Through faith we are made "heirs according to promise" and are no longer slaves under the guardianship of the law. The implications are enormous. Here's the key text.

But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, "Abba! Father!" So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God.

To get the full import of Paul's use of the language of adoption and sonship we need to know a bit about the 1st-century Greco-Roman context. In this society females had no inheritance rights so wealthy men without a son would often adopt a boy from the lower castes to be groomed as an heir. When this boy came of age he would have all the rights that a biological son would have had in that household. Paul announces that in Christ male and female have become one (see Gal. 3:28) and received the full rights of sonship. Further, that we receive the Spirit of adoption who gives us assurance that God our Judge has become God our "Abba" -- the same Aramaic word for father used by Jesus to address his, and now our, Heavenly Father. Justification gives us peace with God, adoption gives us a Father.

In another respect our adoption in Christ is far different from the adoption practiced in Paul's day, or for that matter in our day. It's this aspect that reveals to us the greatness of God's love, and that left Wesley grasping for words. Packer explains in his essential chapter on adoption in Knowing God.

In the ancient world, adoption was a practice ordinarily confined to the childless well-to-do. Its subjects, as we said earlier, were not normally infants, as today, but young adults who had shown themselves fit and able to carry on a family name in a worthy way. In this case, however, God adopts us out of free love, not because our character and record show us worthy to bear his name, but despite the fact that they show the very opposite. We are not fit for a place in God's family; the idea of his loving and exalting us sinners as he loves and has exalted the Lord Jesus sounds ludicrous and wild—yet that, and nothing less than that, is what our adoption means.

Adoption, by its very nature, is an act of free kindness to the person adopted. If you become a father by adopting a son or daughter, you do so because you choose to, not because you are bound to. Similarly, God adopts because he chooses to. He had no duty to do so. He need not have done anything about our sins except punish us as we deserved. But he loves us; so he redeemed us, forgave us, took us as his sons and daughters and gave himself to us as our Father.

Of course God's love doesn't stop there, just as an earthly adoptive parent's love doesn't stop when the legal process is complete. It remains to establish a genuine filial relationship with your son or daughter. You do this by loving the child with the goal of winning the child's love in return. This is exactly what God does. Packer states that the prospect facing the adopted child of God is an eternity of love. Christian, do you see your relationship with God through the lens of adoption? What a difference it makes!

Another implication of adoption is that as children of God we'll want to please our Father by showing forth the family likeness. The Sermon on the Mount gives the fullest picture of what that looks like. Yet even when we mess up God won't cast us out of the family. Only bad fathers do that. He may discipline us as an all-wise father who sees our lives from an eternal perspective, but that's further confirmation of our adoption (see Heb. 12:7, etc).

Discipline, yes. Disinheritance, no. Remember. You are no longer slaves. You are sons. You are heirs.

See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.


Quote from Knowing God, p. 215

The greatest mercy of Providence

I will cry unto God most high; unto God that performeth all things for me. Psalm 57:2 (KJV)

With typical Puritan thoroughness John Flavel mines that text in The Mystery of Providence. Here David is declaring under perilous duress his faith in a God who is intimately involved in his affairs. Another translation renders the second phrase as "God the transactor of my affairs" and the ESV helpfully translates it "God who fulfills his purpose for me." God is not a dispassionate puppet-master pulling the strings. His providential ordering of the lives of those like David who set him apart as "God most high" is motivated by steadfast love and faithfulness. That's why David can confess in Psalm 16: I say to Yahweh, "You are my Lord; I have no good apart from you."

That's quite a statement! No good apart from you, Lord.

Flavel's exposition of the various performances of Providence in the lives of the saints crescendos with a chapter on conversion. Were you born into a Christian home and can't remember a time when you didn't know Christ? This was Providence. Did you respond to the preaching of the gospel as an adult? This too was Providence. Many there are who have heard and not responded. Were you led to Christ by the witness of a roommate in college? Again, this was orchestrated by Providence. Salvation is the greatest blessing that Providence has to give.

Flavel writes:

There are mercies of all sizes and kinds in the hands of Providence to dispense to the sons of men. Its left hand is full of blessings as well as its right. It has health and riches, honours and pleasures, as well as Christ and salvation to dispense. The world is full of its left hand favours, but the blessings of its right hand are invaluably precious and few there be that receive them. It performs thousands of kind offices for men; but among them all, this is the chiefest, to lead and direct them to Christ.

Flavel's distinction between "left hand" and "right hand" blessings mirrors the distinction often made by Reformed theologians between "common grace" and "saving grace". An example of common grace is the rain that God sends on the "just" and the "unjust" (see Matt. 5:45). The most virulent atheist benefits in hundreds of ways from the common grace gifts of God, but absent the mercy of saving grace those good gifts have an expiration date. All the good things once enjoyed will be taken away, just as they were taken away from Jesus on the cross.

Another writer has said that God is kind to all in some ways, and kind to some in all ways. If you're in the second group you can say with Paul: And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.


Quote from The Mystery of Providence, pp. 73-4