Kevin DeYoung's Blog, page 160

Monday Morning Humor

Is The Reformation Over?

As many Protestants remember the unofficial start of the Reformation back on this date in 1517, you may want to read this excellent Themelios article by Scott Manetsch. The focus is on "John Calvin, Roman Catholicism, and Contemporary Ecumenical Conversations." What I find most helpful is Manetsch's evaluation of recent ecumenical attempts to bridge the Catholic-Protestant divide on justification.

Manetsch sets the table:

In 2005, evangelical historian Mark Noll and free-lance Christian author Carolyn Nystrom addressed these issues in a book entitled (appropriately enough) Is the Reformation Over? In this highly acclaimed work, Noll and Nystrom survey the history of Catholic-Protestant controversies in North America over the past three centuries. The authors call particular attention to the seismic shift in evangelical attitudes toward Roman Catholics since the Second Vatican Council. In recent years, they note, much of the historic mistrust and antagonism between evangelicals and Catholics has been set aside for a new spirit of cooperation and mutual support. Today evangelical Protestants in the United States make common cause with their Catholic neighbors on a variety of important political and social issues. At the same time, a sizeable number of evangelicals admire Catholic leaders such as Pope John Paul II and Mother Theresa, and they look to traditional works of Catholic spirituality and modern Catholic devotional literature for inspiration and spiritual nourishment. In addition to these shifting popular attitudes, Noll and Nystrom point to the sustained ecumenical dialogues between Catholic and evangelical scholars over the past fifteen years—known collectively as Evangelicals and Catholics Together (ECT)—as evidence of substantive theological rapprochement between the two religious camps. The most impressive fruit of these unofficial dialogues, the authors believe, is the agreement on the Protestant doctrine of justification by faith alone as formulated at ECT II.

Should we conclude, then, that the Reformation is over? For Noll and Nystrom, the answer is "No" and "Yes." No, the Reformation is not over in the sense that important theological differences continue to divide American evangelicals and Roman Catholics—most notably their conflicting understandings of the Church, the primacy of the Pope, and the Marian doctrines. On the other hand, Noll and Nystrom believe that ecumenical accords such as ECT II and JDDJ signal that the Reformation divide over justification has been successfully bridged. The authors, thus, conclude, "If it is true . . . that iustificatio articulis stantis vel cadentis ecclesiae (justification is the article on which the church stands or falls), then the Reformation is over.

Toward the end of the article, Manetsch returns to these developments, arguing that even if some Catholics use the phrases "by grace alone" and "by faith alone" this does not, by itself, mean we have come to agreement on justification.

We should be grateful that Catholics are willing to affirm these central biblical truths while at the same time remaining both cautious and realistic. Calvin reminds us that the so-called Protestant "solas" cannot be treated as discrete or independent doctrines. Rather, they cohere with, inform, and require other important biblical truths. Thus, as we have seen, Calvin was quick to point out the theological inconsistency of affirming the doctrine of justification by faith alone, on the one hand, while remaining committed to the Catholic sacrament of penance, with its distinction between guilt and punishment, and its requirement of works of satisfaction, on the other. So also Calvin recognized that whatever authority the Catholic Church ascribed to Scripture in theory, Rome undermined Scripture's authority in practice by commanding the exclusive right of interpreting the biblical text. Evangelicals engaged in ecumenical conversations with Roman Catholics should demonstrate this same kind of realism.

Moreover, the accent that a particular theological tradition gives to a doctrine is important. For the Protestant reformers, justification was a first-order doctrinal concern. Not so with many contemporary Catholics. The most recent edition of the Catholic Catechism gives only brief attention to the doctrine of justification. Clearly, sacramental grace, not justification, occupies the central position in Catholic conceptions of salvation. American Cardinal Avery Dulles admits as much: "Justification is rarely discussed at length except in polemics against, or dialogue with, Protestants." Lutheran scholar James Preuss once stated the problem even more baldly: "The doctrine [of justification] is at best at the fringe of their corpus doctrinae, like a fingernail, or like the planet Pluto at the edge of our solar system." In discussions with Roman Catholics, evangelical Protestants need to be attentive to the priority given core Christian doctrines. Defending slogans is important, but not enough.

In his conclusion, Manetsch draws out the pastoral implications of getting the doctrine of justification right (or wrong):

When reading Calvin's treatises against Roman Catholic opponents during the 1540s, I have been impressed how often he reminds his readers of the practical entailments of their theological commitments. What we confess affects how we live.

Calvin believed that religious legalism tortures the consciences of men and women. Merit theology plunges God's people into the "gulf of despair." The Catholic sacrament of penance "rob[s] all consciences of calm and placid confidence"; indeed, mandatory annual confession is nothing but "an executioner to torture and excruciate consciences."

By contrast, the Protestant doctrine of justification by faith alone offers the believer a safe refuge of assurance that brings with it "peace of conscience." Calvin is concerned, in other words, not simply with articulating biblical doctrine, but demonstrating how it impacts the spiritual experience of ordinary Christians. Calvin the theologian was also Calvin the pastor. For those of us who have been called to serve Christ's church as pastors or professors, we would do well to follow Calvin's example in this. For our vocation is not simply to uphold biblical orthodoxy, but to edify, instruct, and protect God's people entrusted to our care. It is our task, our awesome responsibility, to present God's timeless truth in a manner that assists everyday Christians to live their lives in faithful, joyful obedience to Christ. May this be true of all of us, for Christ's glory and for the edification of his Church!

Read the whole thing. Scott Manetsch is a fine scholar and one of TEDS most well respected professors. Get acquainted with his stuff. Better yet, get acquainted the biblical doctrine of justification, especially on Reformation Day.

The Starting Point for Christian Unity

Martyn Lloyd-Jones, in his address to the Westminster Ministers' Fellowship in June 1962:

The starting point in considering the question of unity must always be regeneration and belief of the truth. Nothing else produces unity, and, as we have seen clearly, it is impossible apart from this.

An appearance or a facade of unity based on anything else, and at the expense of these two criteria, or which ignores them, is clearly a fraud and a lie. People are not one, nor in a state of unity, who disagree about fundamental questions such as:

(a) whether we submit ourselves utterly to revealed truth or rely ultimately upon our reason and human thinking;

(b) the historic fall, and man's present state and condition in sin, under the wrath of God, and in complete helplessness and hopelessness as regards salvation; and

(c) the person of our Lord Jesus Christ and the utter, absolute necessity, and sole sufficiency, of His substitutionary atoning work for sinners.

To give the impression that they are one simply because of a common outward organization is not only to mislead the world which is outside the church but to be guilty of a lie. (Knowing the Times, 160-61).

Brothers, We Are Not Gate Agents

It is the danger of every parent, elder, Bible study leader, and especially preacher. I am wary of its snare. I pray against it regularly. I hope to avoid it this coming Sunday. Brothers, we are not gate agents.

I have been flying a lot over the past 6 weeks, and thus have had the opportunity to watch gate agents at the airport. You probably know what these gate agents do. They make announcements, take tickets, and get people loaded on the plane in a timely manner. They administrate and facilitate. Most importantly (if you are traveling), they exhort you to get on the plane before it is too late. The gate agent is like the train conductor yelling "All aboard!" The gate agent tells you about this plane going to St. Louis, this one to Chicago, and that one to Omaha. He proclaims and provokes. He calls and consoles. He summons and sends off. The gate agents have an important job. They make announcements all day about places you want to go to.

And places to which they've never been.

As a pastor, I'm scared of becoming nothing more than an earnest gate agent. I'm afraid of calling people to places I've never been. Of course, pastors are humans too. None of us have arrived. There must be room for aspiration and inspiring ourselves (so to speak) even as we try to inspire others. But my fear is that I would keep preaching about God, without really communing with Him. That I would stir people to obedience I don't really take seriously. That I would speak earnestly of an affection for Christ that I am not earnestly pursuing. I give so many sermons and talk about God so often, I fear that I may end up exhorting people with exhortations I've learned to ignore.

Lord help me. I don't want to round people up for holiness and never go there myself. I don't want to talk so much about St. Louis and Omaha and Chicago that I convince myself I've been to places I haven't. I don't want to preach about the glories of knowing Christ if I haven't made an effort to know that glory too. I don't want to be a gate agent on this heavenly journey. I want to someone working in the cockpit.

Or a flight attendant–just as well.

When You Feel Like Death (Part 2)

Deliverance Now or Later

Now, it just so happens, that in Paul's case there was a miraculous deliverance.  He got better, or he got set free, or he was rescued.  That's verse 10: "He delivered us from such a deadly peril and he will deliver us."  Part of Paul wants to convey to the Corinthians is that nothing is too hard for God.  God does set the prisoner free.  God does heal the sick.  God does miraculous things to deliver us from persecutors and diseases and anxiety and depression and closed doors to the gospel.

That's why verse 11 tells us to pray.  I just love Paul's logic.  "You pray for us, because God will bless us through your prayers.  And then when people see the blessings, when they see that we are rescued and aided and helped, they will give thanks to God for such a deliverance."  Do you pray or ask people to pray with the thought that the chief end of prayer is thanksgiving to God?  Yes, you want to be helped.  Yes, you want to be healed or you deliverance from whatever or whomever is troubling you.  But the ultimate reason why you want this great rescue, this assistance, this great salvation, is so that people will be impressed with God.

You realize that's why God ordained prayer.  He doesn't need us to pray.  It's not as if we are telling him something he doesn't know.  It's not as though we can change his mind.  In the ultimate sense, all our days have already been written in God's book.  Your days have already been decreed.  So why pray?  Two reasons: (1) Because God has ordained the ends and the means, and prayer is one of those means by which he intends to do his work.  (2) Because prayer results in more thanksgiving.  God gets more glory and is seen as more powerful and more precious when his people ask him for things and he delivers.  He could easily deliver us without us asking (he does that sometimes).  But when many people first ask him, they are more likely, when he answers, to recognize that God did this great deed and God is worthy to praised.

This leads to a question, however.  Does this passage teach that though we have affliction, we will always be delivered from that affliction when we pray?  After all, Paul says in verse 10 "He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us."  So is the encouragement for the Corinthians and for us: "Don't sweat it.  God's got your back.  He will take care of things.  You'll get better.  You'll be rescued."  Is that the message?

Not exactly.  We know from the rest of the Bible that faith does not mean we get rescued from every trial.  We know this from Paul himself.  His thorn in the flesh was not removed, even though he prayed three times for it to be removed.  Paul died as a martyr.  He had a sentence of death, and that time, he died.  So, yes, this passage teaches that God is able to do amazing things in your life to save you from your affliction.  But this passage does not teach that God's deliverance always comes in this life.  Paul's words are intentionally ambiguous in verse 10.  He delivered us.  He will deliver us.  He will deliver us again.  He doesn't say what these will be like.  He simply say, "We will be delivered."  It's left open-ended.  The deliverance may be physical healing.  It may be an angelic prison break.  Or it may be resurrection from the dead.

Resurrection Hope

The white hot center of this passage is the one sentence we haven't talked about yet, the end of verse 9.  After talking about his crushing burdens and the death sentence he felt, Paul says, "But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead."  The resurrection of Jesus changes everything.  God brought a dead man back to life.  This gives us two pillars of comfort in suffering: (1) A God who raises the dead can deliver you from the severest affliction.  He can rescue you right now, as he did for Paul.  He can heal you.  He can give you a good marriage, a good relationship with your kids.  He can break the addiction.  A God who brings dead people to life can do anything he wants.  (2) The other comfort is to know that the God who brought back Jesus from the dead will raise you and me and all those who love Jesus.

This means God can answer your prayers and deliver you in this life, or he can answer your prayers and give you eternal life and new body in the age to come.  Either way, comfort!  Our only comfort in life and in death, as a matter of fact. So long as we rely on God.  John Calvin comments that self-confidence must be exceedingly displeasing in God's eyes if he goes to such great lengths—making us feel a sentence of death–just to rid us of it.

It's an amazing statement Paul makes.  When most of us start to suffer we doubt God more.  We question his goodness.  We wonder what in the world he's doing.  But Paul says, "No, no.  We've got it backwards.  Affliction is supposed to make us doubt ourselves.  We are supposed to be questioning our strength.  We are meant to wonder, what in the world can I do about this?"  And the answer is nothing.  When you are utterly burdened beyond strength, what can you do?  You could put a 500 pound crate in front of me and tell me to pick it up and bring it outside, and I won't be able to do it.  I don't care how I maneuver the thing, I am not strong enough to carry that weight.  Most of us don't think, or care to think, that one of the things God is up to when he sends crushing affliction, is breaking our mean streak of independence.

We think we can do great things.  We are so terribly strong.  We are so super smart.  We have degrees.  We have a good attitude.  We know how to get things done.  We help others. We aren't the ones who need help.  We don't bother people.  We don't bug God with our problems.  We can take care of things.  Just another week and I'll be on top of it.  This year, I'll get it figured out.  If I had a little more money, I wouldn't be in this fix.  I just need a little more time.  We are hardwired to rely on ourselves and the wires get supercharged by living in America, and by having some success, and by being intelligent, and being liked.

We learn to rely on ourselves.  Self-confidence and independence are among the best virtues in our eyes, when divine-reliance and dependence are what God wants to see in us.  The verb in the beginning of verse 9 is in the perfect tense instead of the past tense, which may indicate an ongoing sense of desperation in Paul.  True, he was delivered, but the experience of feeling that death sentence was still with him.  Just like you hear people who get in some major accident and almost die talk about how their whole perspective on life changed.  That's what was going on in Paul.  He knew he was a mortal man.  Even though he had been rescued from peril, he knew that more would come and that eventually, unless the Lord returned, he would die.  He felt the death sentence.  He saw death not as abstract reality that happens to people, but as his sentence.  He considered his death to be fixed and sure.  He knew what it was to be desperate, to be crushed with burdens, to be discouraged, to be anxious, to look death square in the eye.

And what did he learn from it all?  That he was not in control.  That he could not save himself.  That he could not make himself better.  That he could not carry on in his own strength.  That from here on out, he would rely on God and not on himself.  If you can't feel any personal application at this point then you probably don't know God or you don't really know affliction.

Some of you refuse to be broken, refuse to admit that there are ten thousand more things outside of your control than under your control, refuse to confess "I'm weak.  I'm clueless sometimes.  I'm helpless.  Some days I don't know how to get through another day."  And some of you refuse to consider your own mortality.  Once I was having lunch with one of my college professors.  And he was telling me about a new class he does on death and dying.  He really sees the class as a way to get students more serious about their faith.  He said, "If I can get students to face their own mortality, then a bunch of the other questions and answers start to line up and make sense."

One morning I will not wake up.  Or one evening I will not go back to sleep.  I'll die.  You'll die.  You will be at the moment as helpless as you were when you were born.  Will you and I learn before that point that it is folly to rely on ourselves?  Will we be able to say like the Psalmist, "It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes"?  We will also suffer.  We will all die.  We will all watch others die.  But, I pray, we will not grieve like those who have no hope.  We confess and we sing and gather to remember that Jesus rose from the dead.  A new body.  New life.  No more death.  As it was for Jesus, so it will be for us.  Encourage each other with these words.

We can have hope in the midst of affliction because our God raises the dead.

When You Feel Like Death (Part 1)

The following is a revised version of a sermon I gave awhile back on 2 Corinthians 1:8-11. Today is Part 1 and tomorrow is Part 2.

*******

We can have hope in the midst of affliction because our God raises the dead.

We are going to read from 2 Corinthians 1 in just a moment, but I want to start with 1 Thessalonians 4 to set the tone.

1 Thessalonians 4:13 But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others who have no hope.

Everyone has affliction.  Both Christians and non-Christian mourn.  They hurt.  They suffer.  Loved ones die.  Tragedy happens.  Everyone grieves.  Christians too.  We are not immune to suffering.  We are not somehow above it all, as if we were promised in this life nothing but success and ease and happiness.  We grieve, as much or more than anyone.

But not as those who have no hope.

The Christian cries differently.  Our tears are not tears of hopelessness.  Death is not the end.  There is a hope we have that the world does not have.  To be sure, there will be fine sounding platitudes at any funeral you attend.  And sadly, the empty, content-less cliches and platitudes show up at Christian funerals too.  But we have something more than inspiring words or some vague notion about a place in the clouds or singing with the angels or looking up to grandpa as he watches down over us.  We have a firm hope that is grounded in the work of Christ.

1 Thessalonians 4:14 For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep.

There's the difference.  We do not grieve as those who have no hope, because Jesus died and yet he lives. There is no more important event in the history of the world than the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  And if you believe that Jesus (Son of God and Son of Man) died for sins and rose again on the third day–if you truly believe that to the depths of your being, it will change everything.

The churches get packed out on Easter because, at least ostensibly, all these people believe in the resurrection.  We love magnificent hymns like "See What a Morning" and "Christ the Lord is Risen Today," where we sing out our faith in the resurrection of Jesus.  We recite the Apostles' Creed and the Nicene Creed, where we confess that on the third day Jesus rose again from the dead.  We gather for worship on Sunday as a reminder that the stone was rolled away and the women discovered the empty tomb on the first day of the week.  When we truly believe all of this, it changes everything.

1 Thessalonians 4:15-18 For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep.  For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God.  And the dead in Christ will rise first.  Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord.  Therefore encourage one another with these words.

When we are hurting, when we lose a husband or daughter or grandmother, when we face our own mortality–whether in a month or a year or a decade or seven decades–when we gather around the hospital bed to pray with the sick and dying, when we comfort the afflicted, do we talk about the resurrection?  Do we talk about Jesus?  Do we talk about the empty tomb?  Or do we offer empty platitudes and nothing more than the well-meaning sympathy that says, "I've suffered too," or worse, that God suffers with them? Do you tell them in a casual sort of way that everything's going to be alright?  Do you rebuke them for their doubts?  Or do we encourage one another with our faith in the resurrection?

We can have hope in the midst of affliction, because our God raises the dead.

2 Corinthians 1:8-11 For we do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia.  For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself.  Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death.  But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.  He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us.  On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again.  You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessings granted us through the prayers of many.

Burden and Despair

Corinth was a posh city.  Certainly many people were poor, but there was lots of prosperity.  One of the things it seemed the Corinthians struggled with was accepting suffering as a part of Christian discipleship.  The mystery cults, Emperor worship, the whole context of Corinth encouraged a spirituality of triumphalism and pleasure and success.  We have many of the same dynamics in this country.  We have great prosperity around us (although less than it once was), plus a self-help therapeutic worldview that says we can manage our happiness, not to mention all the voices telling us to dream it and do it, name and claim it, believe and receive.

Yet, into this world of ours speaks the word of God, just like it spoke to the Corinthians.  Paul says, "I don't want to hide anything.  I don't want to sugar coat this.  You need to know what following Jesus entails.  Count the cost. You can't be a Christian and be ashamed of suffering.  I'm not ashamed.  I do not want you to be ignorant of the rough time I've been having."

We often hide our afflictions.  Maybe we think real Christians shouldn't feel the way we do.  Or maybe we want to seem stronger than we are.  Or maybe we sense that missionary letters about our struggles won't keep the support checks coming.  Or maybe we just don't want to discourage others.  For whatever reason, we are not real with very many people.  Where I'm from there's a saying that everyone has a Dutch front.  If you go to these little Dutch burgs in America, you'll see a lot of stores on main street with these nice looking fronts that resemble what you might see in the Netherlands.  Unfortunately, many people in these towns put the same sort of nice looking fronts on their lives too.  We are not any different.

But look at Paul.  "I am struggling in Asia," he says.  No one knows for sure what he's talking about.  Paul might be referring to the riot that happened in Ephesus in Acts 19.  He might be talking about an illness that's flared up.  Or he might be referring to an imprisonment or some other persecution we just don't know about.  Whatever is was, it was bad.  He says, "We"–and I think this is the royal "we" although he could be talking others who have suffered with him–"were so utterly burdened beyond our strength."  The RSV says "utterly, unbearably crushed.

Did you know the great Apostle Paul felt that way at times?  Psalm 44 says "Our soul is bowed down to the dust; our belly clings to the ground."  Psalm 88 ends by saying "my companions have become darkness" or "darkness has become my only companion."  Job says very pointedly in Job 10:1 "I loathe my life."

Do you ever feel that way?  I'm not talking about suicide.  There's never any sense that Job or Paul or David thought about taking their own lives-that's wrong, and if you feel that way get some help immediately. But we do see people in the Bible who felt utterly, unbearably crushed.  You can think of reasons why people feel like this as well as I can: depression, chronic illness, death of a friend, abuse, hurt, disappointment.  There are a hundred ways in which we can feel burdened beyond our own strength.

And they aren't always the big ways: cancer, dying, infertility.  Those are burdens for sure, bigger than most, but sleeplessness is a burden.  Aging parents can be a burden.  Feeling overwhelmed with your housework is a burden.  Feeling like you have the squirreliest, most disobedient kids on the planet is a burden.  Feeling like you are behind in every area of your life and you will never have time to catch up is a burden.  Feeling like you have too many responsibilities and you do all of them at a level between mediocre and poor is a burden.  Does this resonate with you?

I feel like I have lived to this point an incredibly blessed life.  There are a lot of griefs and struggles and bad circumstances that I have been spared.  And yet, I'll tell you there are days where verse 8 resonates with me. I get hurt.  I get weary.  I get discouraged.  I waste my time.  I don't pray enough.  I don't feel like I am doing much of anything the way I'd like to. On some Mondays (though this is less frequent than it used to be) I get post-preaching mini-depression and feel like another Sunday came and nothing changed, nobody was helped, people probably got upset, I don't know what I'm doing or how to do it.  I take off my glasses and rub my eyes and pull at my hair.

I hear the Apostle Paul loud and clear.  And so do many of you.  You have days, maybe weeks or years, where you are burdened beyond your strength, like a boat weighed with too much cargo, like a traveler whose backpack is overloaded and he can't take another step.  That's how all of us feel at times and how some of you feel right now.

Paul says he despaired of life itself.  This may mean he didn't think he could go on any more.  He wanted to go home to be the Lord.  That may be part of Paul's point. But I think the main idea is that Paul thought this was the end for him. He felt like he had received a death sentence.  Whether he was in a riot of persecution and he was sure he was a goner, or he was in prison and actually had been sentenced to death, or perhaps he got sick and was convinced he was not going to better—whatever the situation, Paul didn't think he was going to live.  He didn't think he was going to make it.  He was on death row as far as he was concerned. What hope was there for the future?

It's All Your Fault

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Theodore Dalrymple is not a Christian. I don't find much in his writing that demonstrates an understanding of redemption. But I do find a lot that shows a keen understanding of sin.

The Bible uses the word "bitterness." Others refer to it as "holding a grudge." Some label it "baggage," or even more laconically, "issues." Dalrymple calls it resentment.

For him, this means blaming his parents: "When I review my failings and incompetence, of a kind that I am too ashamed or embarrassed to admit in public, but which life itself often forced me to do, I explain them by reference to my childhood–parental neglect, for example" (Anything Goes, 209). For others, it means blaming friends, spouses, partners in ministry, former bosses, Wall Street, the government, the church, or the man. However we get there, we are masters at resentment, what Dalrymple calls "pre-eminently the emotion or mode of feeling and thought of our time. When the social historians of the future, if there are any, come to characterize our era they will not call it the age of the atomic bomb, or the financial derivative age, or even that of the 100 per cent mortgage, they will call it the Age of Resentment" (211).

The wonderful thing about resentment is that it never lets you down.

For example, if someone points out to a resentful person reasons why he should not be resentful, he will immediately come up with reason why he should be. I have observed that when someone says 'Yes, but…' there is little purpose in continuing by providing reasons, evidence or arguments as to why that person should change his mind about the thing in question. Deeply unimaginative as that person might be in all other circumstances, when it comes to preserving his original standpoint from attack by people who want to argue him out of it, his imagination is infinitely fertile. (210)

Resentment is that "friend" that sticks closer than a brother. It allows you to dream of all you could have been and all your might have done if things had gone better for you (though, as Dalrymple points out, we never dream of all we wouldn't have accomplished if things had gone worse). Resentment provides the comfort of an all-encompassing worldview. Every failure is attributable to some harm done to us. Everyone who disagrees with us is but another example of the hardship we must face. There is no unknown for the resentful person–everything has been decided in advance.

Resentment even changes the polarities of success and failure.

The fact that I am a failure in a certain regard shows that I am not only more sensitive than a vulgar success in that same regard, but really I am morally superior to him. To become a success, he has not had to contend with all that I have had to contend with to become a failure. Really, I am better than he, if only the world would recognize it. (210)

Of course, Dalrymple goes on to say, the world does not recognize failures. But this doesn't matter in the economy of resentment. It doesn't matter if people continue to disregard us, ignore us, or admonish us for our bitterness. Each new rebuke fits nicely into the recurring pattern and interpretive grid we've made for ourselves. "My original resentment can become a meta-resentment when the world refuses to recognize the justice of my complaints" (211).

There is no escaping the snare of resentment, save for the sovereign grace of God. Once you let the seed of bitterness get planted and take root, the flower only blooms what is bitter. No matter how much you reason, no matter how much you listen, no matter how much you care or critique, the matter is as clear to the resentful one as it ever was: it's all your fault.

If You Got It, Flaunt It

HT: JJ

Monday Morning Humor

How To Articulate a Christian Worldview in Four Easy Steps

One God. We worship one, personal, knowable, holy God. There are not two gods or ten gods or ten million gods, only one. He has always been and will always be. He is not a product of our mind or imagination. He really exists and we can know him because he has spoken to us in his word.

Two kinds of being. We are not gods. God is not found in the trees or the wind or in us. He created the universe and cares for all that he has made, but he is distinct from his creation. The story of the world is not about being released from the illusion of our existence or discovering the god within. The story is about God, the people he made, and how the creatures can learn to delight in, trust in, and obey their Creator.

Three persons. The one God exists eternally in three persons. The Father is God. The Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, is God. The Holy Spirit, the Spirit of the Father and the Son, is also God. And yet these three—equal in glory, rank, and power—are three persons. The doctrine of the Trinity helps explain how there can be true unity and diversity in our world. It also shows that our God is a relational God.

For us. Something happened in history that changed the world. The Son of God came into the world as a man, perfectly obeyed his Father, fulfilled Israel's purpose, succeeded where Adam failed, and began the process of reversing the curse. Jesus Christ died for the sins of the world. He rose again from the dead on the third day. By faith in him our sins can be forgiven and we can be assured of living forever with God and one day being raised from the dead like Christ.

Obviously, this doesn't say everything that needs to be said about the Bible or Christianity. But I find it to be a helpful way to get a handle on some of the most important distinctives of a Christian worldview. Feel free to steal it and use it for yourself. It's as easy as 1, 2, 3, 4.