Kevin DeYoung's Blog, page 26

Are We Keeping the Main Thing the Main Thing?

I recognize that Holy Week, as an annual set of services, is not spelled out in Scripture. It is a tradition of the church. But a good, gospel tradition, and one that still has deep resonances in the rhythms of American life. So let’s use this week as best we can for outreach, for evangelism, and for apologetic engagement.

And for keeping the main thing the main thing.

The cross is what saves (1 Cor. 1:18). The cross is what we preach (1 Cor. 2:2). The cross, and all that it stands for, is our first priority (1 Cor. 15:3). Don’t make this week–of all weeks–about anything else.

This is not the week for being savvy and sophisticated. This is the week for being simple. Sin and salvation. Death and resurrection. Let every preacher preach this gospel and every congregation hold fast to this word (1 Cor. 15:1-2).

Holy Week is a check-up for the Church. To use a tag line that’s already overused, if your core message for this week is something other than “Christ died for our sins,” you’re doing Christianity wrong. If you want to preach about gender equality or social justice or progressive dispensationalism or the extra Calvinisticum, do it a different week. This week is about a substitute for our sin and an empty tomb for our justification.

This week is about the passion of the Christ–about his suffering, his betrayal, his humiliation, his death, his burial, and his resurrection from the grave three days later. If we are celebrating something else, our gospel boat has lost track of its North Star.

Think of what we’ll sing this week:

Man of sorrows! what a name for the Son of God, who came ruined sinners to reclaim: Hallelujah! what a Savior!

What thou, my Lord, hast suffered was all for sinners’ gain: mine, mine was the transgression, but thine the deadly pain. Lo, here I fall, my Savior! Tis I deserve thy place; look on me with thy favor, vouchsafe to me thy grace.

For me, kind Jesus, was thine incarnation, thy mortal sorrow, and thy life’s oblation: thy death of anguish and thy bitter passion, for my salvation.

Alas! and did my Savior bleed, and did my Sovereign die! Would he devote that sacred head for such a worm as I!

Tell me, ye who hear him groaning, was there every grief like his? Friend thro fear his cause disowning, foes insulting his distress; many hands were raised to wound him, none would interpose to save; but the deepest stroke that pierced him was the stroke that Justice gave.

And then on Sunday morning:

Lives again our glorious King; Alleluia! where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia! Once he died, our souls to save; Alleluia! where thy victory, O grace? Alleluia!

Despite the busyness, this should be every preacher’s favorite week of the church year. And the best week for every church choir, every organist, every worship band, and every congregation. What a somber week filled with happy news!

Let’s not trade the glories of the cross for a mess of religious niceties, spiritual ambiguities, and moral uplift. It’s time to tell the old, old story once again–the story of sin atoned for, wrath appeased, heaven secured, and death conquered. No gimmicks, no trinkets, no goofy skits and video clips. The story is good enough all by itself.

Let’s just make sure we haven’t lost the plot.

View more on Kevin DeYoung's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on April 10, 2017 17:43

Our Whole Salvation Comprehended in Christ

John Calvin at his God-glorifying best:

We see that our whole salvation and all its parts are comprehended in Christ. We should therefore take care not to derive the least portion of it from anywhere else.

If we seek salvation, we are taught by the very name of Jesus that it is “of him.”

If we seek any other gifts of the Spirit, they will be found in his anointing.

If we seek strength, it lies in his dominion;

if purity, in his conception;

if gentleness, it appears in his birth. For by his birth he was made like us in all respects that he might learn to feel our pain.

If we see redemption, it lies in his passion;

if acquittal, in his condemnation;

if remission of the curse, in his cross;

if satisfaction, in his sacrifice;

if purification, in his blood;

if reconciliation, in his descent into hell;

if mortification of the flesh, in his tomb;

if newness of life, in his resurrection;

if immortality, in the same;

if inheritance of the Heavenly Kingdom, in his entrance into heaven;

if protection, if security, if abundant supply of all blessings, in his Kingdom;

if untroubled expectation of judgment, in the power given him to judge.

In short, since rich store of every kind of good abounds in him, let us drink our fill from this fountain, and from no other. (Inst., II.xvi.19)

Amen and amen.

View more on Kevin DeYoung's website »

1 like · Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on April 06, 2017 17:40

15 Lessons from Calvinâs Biography

The title is all the introduction you need. Here we go. The 15 points are mine. All quotations are from Bruce Gordon’s Calvin.

1. If you want to make an impact beyond your little lifespan, teach people the Bible. “What made Calvin Calvin, and not another sixteenth-century writer was his brilliance as a thinker and writer, and, above all, his ability to interpret the Bible” (viii).

2. The big public personalities are often privately awkward. “In the public arena Calvin walked and spoke with stunning confidence. In private he was, by his own admission, shy and awkward” (x).

3. The best friendships are forged in fire. “All his life Calvin would define friendship in terms of a commitment to a common cause; it was within that framework that he was able to express fraternity and intimacy” (29).

4. True strength is knowing your weakness. “However, one of his greatest strengths in his later career was an acute awareness that despite remarkable confidence in his calling and intellect he remained dangerously prone to moments of poor judgment on account of anger” (91).

5. If you want to impact your city, be prepared to work hard and consistently. “And here was a formula that would serve Calvin well throughout his time in the city: extremely hard work on his part combined with the disorganization and failings of his opponents” (133).

6. Beware the temptation to want to be proved right in everything. “From the pulpit, before the Consistory and Council, and from the printing press, issued forth a single-minded determination to have the last word and to be proved right. This was not simply for the sake of ego: he was absolutely certain that he was right” (145).

7. Not every kind of accommodation is sinful people pleasing. Calvin wrote to the obstinate and fiery William Farel: “We only earnestly desire that insofar as your duty permits you will accommodate yourself more to the people. There are, as you know, two kinds of popularity: the one, when we seek favour from motives of ambition and the desire of pleasing; the other, when, by fairness and moderation, we gain their esteem so as to make them teachable by us” (151).

8. The Church needs good deacons. “The deacons of the Genevan church did just about anything and everything. They purchased clothing and firewood, provided medical care, and not infrequently were present at births. They arranged guardians for the children of the sick. Essentially, they attempted to meet any need. Their task was thankless” (201).

9. Endurance is a neglected virtue. “If one were to admire Calvin for nothing else, his ability to sustain the relentless onslaught of the 1550s is astonishing” (233).

10. Preaching has always been difficult. “Far from the solemn quiet of modern churches, preaching in the sixteenth century was somewhat akin to speaking in a tavern. Preachers had to compete with barking dogs, crying babies, general chatter and constant movements, even fist-fights. They required presence to command respect and their most important tool was their voice” (291).

11. Some traditions must change. “He argued for the freedom of the marriage contract and mutual consent of man and woman, a fundamental point he continually defended in his sermons. Consensual engagements were essential; children were not to be forced into unions by their parents” (295).

12. Every hero (except for Jesus) is a divided hero. “This was Calvin’s divided self: the confidence in his calling as a prophet and apostle set against his ever present sense of unworthiness and dissatisfaction. . . .It was his acute sensitivity to the gap between what was and what should be that distressed him” (334-35).

13. Biography is particularly strategic and can be used to build up the church or lead it astray. “Calvin’s friends had good reason for proceeding to publish [a biography] with haste. There were others who wanted to tell a very different story. Calvin’s nemesis Jerome Bolsec lived to have the last word, and penned two accounts ten years after the reformer’s death. Like many Catholics, he feared that the Protestant reformers were being accorded the status of saints, and he sought to destroy the reputation of Calvin and Geneva. In this, as Irena Backus has shown, he was extraordinarily successful” (338).

14. Work hard, but don’t neglect the body. “Calvin’s punishing routine and recurring illnesses aged him and put him in an early grave” (339).

15. Pray that your fruitfulness outlives you in expressions of gratitude you will not see. “For a man who lived his life in exile, the most fitting memorial came from a land he never saw. In 1583 Geneva was under military threat from the Duke of Savoy, and Beza sent a delegation to England to seek financial assistance. Despite Elizabeth’s frostiness towards Calvin, the collection raised was extraordinarily generous, reflecting the gratitude of a nation for a city and a man that had once offered refuge and Christian teaching” (340).

View more on Kevin DeYoung's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on April 03, 2017 17:36

Our National Pastime

This has made an appearance on my blog before, but Opening Day deserves a few traditions. So here we go again.

I have always been a big sports fan. I got that from my dad, saw it in my grandfathers, and found it in all my friends. Now I’m passing it on to my sons. Chicago-born, I’ve been a lifelong Bears, Bulls, Blackhawks, and Sox fan. The rest of the extended DeYoung clan roots for the Cubs (and I was happy for them last season), but my dad had the good sense to switch loyalties with the Go-Go Sox of ’59, and now I’ll be a Sox fan for life. Likely my boys will be too, though they’ve grown up exclusively in Michigan and never lived a day in Illinois. I feel for them, taking the same road I did: living in Michigan and rooting for Chicago. I hated the Bad Boys, and my sons are learning to be righteously annoyed with the Tigers. Enmity is unspiritual in the rest of life, but not in sports. It’s a sign of respect reserved for perennial powerhouses. Nobody hates the Jacksonville Jaguars.

This week marks the beginning of baseball, for 150 years, our national pastime. Football may be the king of revenue and ratings, March Madness may be the most enjoyable three weeks of sports, the NHL may be the obsession north of the border, and the NBA may have bigger star power, but there is still no sport in this country better than baseball. I will never forget the ’85 Bears or MJ and the Bulls during the 90s. It’s been fun to watch the Blackhawks succeed in the last few seasons, and having lived in East Lansing for 13 years I now bleed green and white. But if I had just one sporting event to watch in person sometime in my life it would be a World Series game with the White Sox. Preferably a Game Seven winner, but I don’t want to be picky.

I know the many knocks on baseball: The games are too slow. The season is too long. The contracts are too big. I know about steroids and strike-shortened seasons. I know the players chew and spit and adjust themselves too much. I know every pitcher (except for the now retired Mark Buehrle) takes too much time in between pitches. I know that purists hate the DH rule and almost everyone hates the Yankees. I understand if baseball is not your thing. You don’t have to like our national pastime.

But you should.

I’ve taken my older kids to basketball games and football games–terrific experiences. But it’s not like your first baseball game: the wide open and immaculately kept spaces of green, the sharp diamond perfectly groomed, the organ bellowing out a kitschy tune. People sing the national anthem louder at baseball games. The hot dogs are better too. At most parks you can find seats cheap enough for families. And when you’re there, you’ll see an old man sitting by himself with a scorecard, just like he’s done for 40 years.

Baseball is unique in the pantheon of professional American sports. It’s the only one where time doesn’t end your game. It’s the only one where offense and defense are totally compartmentalized. And it’s the only sport that actually works on radio. Have you ever tried listening to football on the radio. It’s better than nothing, but you can’t picture the action. You only get updates as the action unfolds. It’s the same with basketball and hockey. There’s a lot of energy, but it’s too much to see in your head. Baseball, on the other hand, is the perfect sport for radio. It’s slow and it’s routine. You can picture a backdoor slider in your head. You know what a sharp single to right looks like. You can see the ball sailing deep into center field in a way you could never see a run up the middle on radio.

I love football, but I love baseball more because it’s football’s complete opposite. It’s pastoral instead of militant. You can get your first chance at 27, instead of being finished at 26. Every game doesn’t matter. The season stretches across three seasons instead of just one. Its pace is deliberate. The drama is subtle. The celebrations are understated. In football, every play is punctuated with some choreographed gesticulation. In baseball, the players honor the shortstop’s diving catch by throwing the ball to each other.

Baseball is the only sport where the players are not only doing things normal people can’t do nearly as well, they’re doing things normal people can’t do at all. I can make a basket. I can throw and catch a football. I can kick a soccer ball. I can’t hit a major league fast ball (let alone a filthy curve). Baseball is more like real life where you fail more than you succeed. Two made shots a night in basketball means your terrible. Two hits per night in baseball makes you a legend.

Baseball has the best stats, the best trading cards, the best box scores, and the best announcers. Of the four major sports in America it’s the one with the smallest gap between the best teams and the worst teams. It’s the one where the regular season matters most. It’s the one sport that has the best season of the year all to itself. They’re not called the Boys of Summer for nothing.

Baseball lends itself to the best sports writing and the best sports movies. It has the richest history and the most romantic mythology. It’s the only sport that allows the fans the pleasure of seeing the umpires publicly berated. It has the most prestigious hall of fame. It has the most grueling minor leagues, where you can chase your dreams for ten years after school if you are willing to ride the bus. It has the best stadiums, where the dimensions are always different and the speed of the grass and the size of the foul territory determines the type of team you build.

More than any other sport, baseball is a companion. That’s why fans grow to love their announcers. For the past few years, I’ve listened to the majority of Sox games over the summer. I don’t often listen or watch an entire game, and I certainly can’t catch all 162 of them. But if I’m driving or mowing the lawn , paying the bills, or puttzing around the house, I’ll find a way to tune in. And if they lose, it’s no big deal. It’s not like the college football playoff is on the line every game. The Sox can lose five in a row or stink up the place for two months and still end up on top. It’s a long season. It’s a slow season. It’s a game of strategy and finely-honed skill more than brute force and raw athleticism. It’s everything fans aren’t supposed to want in their sports anymore.

Which makes it just perfect.

View more on Kevin DeYoung's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on April 02, 2017 22:26

Theological Primer: Divine Infinity

From time to time I make new entries into this continuing series called “Theological Primer.” The idea is to present big theological concepts in around 500 words. Today we look at the divine attribute of infinity.

*******

Lightstock

There are a number of ways to categorize the attributes of God, but the most common way is to divide them into God’s incommunicable and communicable attributes. Infinity is one of the incommunicable attributes, meaning this characteristic of God finds no analogy in the human person.

Most of us know the word “infinity.” Even kids love to use the word (“To infinity and beyond!” “I promise times infinity!”). We understand “infinity” to mean something like “going on forever and ever.” But what does the word mean when applied to God?

We can understand divine infinity in three ways.

First, God is infinite in relation to himself. We can call this God’s absolute perfection. All that God has he is, and all that God is he is ad infinitum. He possesses love and grace and sovereignty not largely or mostly or partially, but in infinite measure. His greatness is unsearchable (Psalm 145:3). His power and perfection know no limit. God does whatever he pleases, and no one can thwart his plans or purposes. “O Lord, God of our Fathers, are you not the God who is in heaven? You rule over all the kingdoms of the nations. Power and might are in your hand, and no one can withstand you” (2 Chron. 20:6). The nations are as a drop in the bucket (Isa. 40:15). Psalm 115:3 “Our God is in heaven; he does whatever pleases him” (Psalm 115:3).

Second, God is infinite in relation to time. We can call this God’s eternity. He is without beginning and without end (Psalm 90:2; 1 Tim. 1:17). Unlike all created things, God has no origin and no starting point. There never was when God was not. God has always been God and has always been, even before there was matter or a universe or time as we understand time. Our God is Jehovan El Olam, the Everlasting God (Gen. 21:33).

Third, God is infinite in relation to space. We can call this God’s immensity. He is not constrained by physicality or geographic location. The God who made everything in heaven and earth does not live in temples made by human hands (Acts 17:24). “Am I only a God nearby, declares the Lord, and not a God far away? Can anyone hide in secret places so that I cannot see him? Declares the Lord. Do not I fill heaven and earth?” (Jer. 23:23-24). Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain God (1 Kings 8:27). Whereas omnipresence suggests God fills every part of space with his being (Eph. 1:23, the attribute of immensity stresses that God’s being is not subject to any limitations. The latter emphasizes God’s immanence, while the latter emphasizes his transcendence. There is nowhere where God is not and no way God can be contained–by imperfection, by time, or by space.

View more on Kevin DeYoung's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on March 30, 2017 17:20

Four Thoughts on Persecution in America

With the release of Rod Dreher’s The Benedict Option and the rescinding of Tim Keller’s Princeton prize, conservative Christians are once again going back and forth about how much we are or are not persecuted in this country.

Here are four thoughts:

1. However Christians might be persecuted in America (see below), let’s be clear that most of us still have it pretty good most of the time. We are not getting beheaded. We are not being thrown to the lions. We are not being thrown into prison. There are more than 300,000 churches in this country. The overwhelming majority of Americans still call themselves Christians. It’s legal to be a Christian. It’s legal to proclaim Christ. It’s legal to convert to Christianity. We don’t want to miss all the things we have to be thankful for or pretend that everyone is out to get us.

2. When we face trials or experience opposition because of our faith, let’s not throw a public pity party. I’ve never been a fan of retweeting public praise or public criticism. This doesn’t mean we can’t respond to criticism or defend ourselves (more on that in a moment), but there is something distasteful about the Christian who can only talk about how bad things have gotten or how much he has suffered. Christians are meant to carry a cross, but we are not meant to be complainers.

3. Having said all this, let’s not minimize the extent to which traditional Christianity and traditional Christians are facing increasing intolerance in this country. The fines, the lawsuits, the jobs lost, the public disdain—these are not figments of the imagination. No amount of PR work is going to rescue the church from being thought by some as backwards and bigoted. You can’t out-nice your way and out-justice your way your way into cultural acceptance, not if you hold traditional biblical views on gender and sexuality. And it does not help the church or our fellow Christians to insist that we kindly acquiesce to the culture’s demands. We have an opportunity to defend the faith as we defend each other.

4. While we are right to downplay American persecution in light of what so many other Christians face, let’s not make the word mean less than what it means in the New Testament. Like most Greek words, the word translated “persecution” in our English Bibles (dioko) has a wide semantic range. According to the standard lexicon for the New Testament (BDAG), dioko can mean “to harass someone, esp. because of beliefs, persecute.” In many places in the New Testament, persecution refers to violence toward Christians. Matthew 10:21-23 speaks of family members killing other family members. Luke 11:49 references killing and persecution in the same breath. And in Acts persecution is linked with arrest, murder, and physical violence (Acts 7:52; 9:4; 22:4, 7; 26:11, 14; see also Gal. 1:13).

But there is reason to think dioko is not limited to these extreme acts of oppression. In Matthew 5:10, Jesus promises that those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake will be blessed. Then in v. 11 he further explains what this persecution is like: “Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.” It’s possible that reviling and persecuting and uttering evil are three distinct acts, but considering verse 11 flows out of verse 10, it’s better to see these as overlapping categories. When verse 12 says “for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you,” Jesus does not mean every prophet was killed, but rather that all the prophets were reviled and spoken against, and in this manner (or worse) they were persecuted. Persecution may mean being put to death (Matt. 10:21), but it can also refer to being “hated by all for my name’s sake” (Matt. 10:22).

We are confirmed in this broader understanding of persecution by two other passages:

John 15:20 “Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.”

2 Timothy 3:13 “Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.”

Persecution is not something that befalls only a few Christians. While it’s possible to read Jesus’s words in John 15:20 as a unique promise for the apostles, the passage from 2 Timothy cannot be read so narrowly. The point is plain: while martyrdom is a special category set aside for a select number of Christians (Rev. 6:8-11), persecution is the normal experience of every Christian everywhere. From stiff fines, to family shame, to being kicked off college campuses, to laws against sharing our faith, to unjust trials, to public mockery and scorn, to arrest and brutality, if we faithfully follow Jesus in this world we all will face persecution at some point in our Christian discipleship. Even American Christians—if they are really Christians—will have crosses to carry.

View more on Kevin DeYoung's website »

1 like · Like • 1 comment • flag

Published on March 28, 2017 17:12

Book Briefs

I have a growing stack of books I haven’t found time to read. But here are some of the ones I’ve tackled in the last several weeks.

Cornelis Van Dam, The Elder: Today’s Ministry Rooted in All of Scripture (P&R, 2009). There are a number of good books on eldership that I’ve taken our men through over the years (e.g., Biblical Eldership, The Elder and His Work, The Shepherd Leader). I’ll definitely be adding this one to the list. It’s well ordered, comprehensive without being dense, and provides good summaries throughout the book. I’ll be using this book in the future and will recommend it often.

Daniel Taylor, Death Comes for the Deconstructionist (Slant, 2014). I don’t read much fiction, but I picked this up at John Piper’s recommendation. After 30 pages, I was hooked. This is a unique book—a murder mystery, a satire on the academy, and spiritual exploration of why we are the way we are. Parts of the storyline are dark, but that’s because human existence is sometimes dark. Enjoy the protagonist’s sister-sidekick; she’s a delight. This book will get you thinking and keep you reading. That’s pretty high praise.

Murray Pittock, Great Battles: Culloden (Oxford, 2016). This is a great little book (less than 160 pages before the end notes) about the defeat of the Highlander army of Jacobite sympathizers at the hands of the British Regulars. What makes Pittock’s work stand out is how he looks as much at the reception of Culloden lore as he does at the battle itself. While he certainly understands the intricacies of regiments and troop movements, Pittock’s primary interest is in showing how Culloden—seen as the triumph of modern Enlightenment over backwater barbarism—came to shape British identity, even though many aspects of the traditional historiography are mistaken.

Ron Citlau, Hope for the Same-Sex Attracted (Bethany House, 2017). Ron is an pastor in the RCA, a courageous spokesman for biblical truth, and a good friend. He didn’t ask me to recommend this book, but I’m happy to do so. Let me mention a couple caveats first. One, Ron is more sympathetic to elements of the charismatic movement than I am. This shows up in a couple places in the book. Two, the chapter on the gift of Christian therapy raised some questions in my mind. If Ron and I were talking together, I’d ask him more questions about some of the ministries and approaches he recommends. Those caveats aside, this is an important book and a needed book. Ron writes as a pastor and as one who has struggled with same-sex attraction. His aim in this book is not to explore the biblical passages about homosexuality (he’s done that before and is thoroughly orthodox), but to help the honest struggler. To that end, he identifies three obstacles: gay Christian identity, gay marriage, and the spiritual friendship movement. Then, he identifies five gifts for these same brothers and sisters: the gift of the church, the gift of healing communities and Christian therapy, the gift of singleness, the gift of marriage, and the gift of prayerful lament. The chapters are short, accessible, and down to earth. Ron is to be commended for tackling so many thorny topics in one short, simple (in a good way) book.

Stephen J. Wellum, God the Son Incarnate: The Doctrine of Christ (Crossway, 2016). An outstanding work of exegetical, historical, and theological exploration. For my part, I wouldn’t have framed the book with the philosophical category of “warranted” Christology, but this approach didn’t affect the book’s quality or its conclusions, both of which are excellent. Wellum is impressively conversant with exegetical nuances, patristic debates, and contemporary controversies (though I wonder if Wellum will reconsider his view of monogenes in light of Lee Irons’s new research). Wellum’s discussion of the extra calvinisticum and his trenchant critique of various kenotic theories were especially helpful. I also appreciated how he appropriated insights from David Wells’s neglected work. Most importantly, Wellum winsomely and persuasively defends a Christology “from above” that exalts Christ and builds upon the best aspects of the orthodox tradition. This is a terrific volume that will be read by pastors and students for many years—a great example of scholarship serving the church.

Save

View more on Kevin DeYoung's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on March 22, 2017 21:02

Who Are âThe Least of Theseâ?

Matthew 25:31-46 is a beautiful statement of Jesus’s concern for the weak and the vulnerable. It’s also a challenging exhortation for Christians to model the same concern.

But what exactly does Jesus mean by “the least of these”?

It’s often assumed that “the least of these” are society’s poor and downtrodden, and that, by implication, Jesus would have us support any program (church, government, or otherwise) that aims to help hurting people. While it is certainly good to care for those outside the church (Gal. 6:10), we must be careful not to make Matthew 25 say more than it means to say. How the government spends our tax dollars is a question that sincere Christians can disagree on. It’s not my place as a pastor to make definitive statements on proposed federal budgets.

What’s more important to me is that we handle the Bible carefully, both from the pulpit and in our public pronouncements. Which is why we should try to understand “the least of these” in its proper context. What Jesus says in Matthew 25 is not “conservative” or “liberal.” It’s Christian, and has everything to do with how we treat other Christians.

“The least of these” refers to other believers in need—specifically, itinerant Christian teachers dependent on other Christians for hospitality and support. That’s my answer to the title of this blog post.

Let me offer four points in support of this interpretation.

Supporting Points

1. In verse 45 Jesus uses the phrase “the least of these,” but in verse 40 he uses a more exact phrase: “the least of these of my brothers.” The two phrases refer to the same group. So the more complete phrase in verse 40 should be used to explain the shorter phrase in verse 45. Whatever “the least of these” is about, it’s about “the least of these” who are brothers.

The reference to “my brothers” cannot be a reference to all of suffering humanity. “Brother” is never used this way in the New Testament. The word always refers to a physical/blood brother or to the spiritual family of God. With regard to the first category, Jesus is clearly not asking us only to care for his brother James. He must be speaking from the second category, insisting that whatever we do for believers in need we do for him.

This interpretation is confirmed when we look at the last time before chapter 25 where Jesus talks about “brothers.” In Matthew 23, Jesus tells the crowds and his disciples (v. 1) that they are all brothers (v. 8). The group of “brothers” is narrowed in the following verses to those who have one Father, who is in heaven (v. 9) and have one instructor, Christ (v. 10). “Brother” is a narrower category than all suffering people or all people everywhere. Those who belong to Christ and do his will are his brothers (Mark 3:35).

2. Likewise, it makes more sense to think Jesus is comparing service to fellow believers with service to him, rather than to hear him saying, “You should see my image in the faces of the poor.” Granted, Jesus was a “man of sorrows,” so other sufferers may be able to identify with Jesus in a special way. But in the rest of the New Testament it’s not the poor but the body of Christ (the church) that represents Christ on earth. Christ “in us” is the promise of the gospel for those who believe, not an assumed reality for those living in a certain economic condition.

Matthew 25 equates caring for Jesus’s spiritual family with caring for Jesus. The passage does not offer the generic message: “care for the poor and you’re caring for me.” This doesn’t mean God is indifferent to the concerns of the poor or that we should be either. It simply means that “the least of these” is not a blanket statement about physical deprivation.

3. The word “least” is the superlative from of mikroi (little ones), and mikroi always refers to the disciples in Matthew’s gospel (10:42; 18:6, 10, 14; see also 11:11).

4. The similarity between Matthew 10 and 25 is not accidental. In Matthew 10:40-42, Jesus tells the disciples, “Whoever receives you receives me, and whoever receives me receives him who sent me. The one who receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and the one who receives a righteous person because he is a righteous person will receive a righteous person’s reward. And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward.” The context for these remarks is Jesus sending out his disciples to minister throughout the towns of Israel (vv. 5-15). The disciples were to take no bag or staff for the journey. Instead, they were to seek a “worthy” house that would welcome them in. Their success as preachers would depend upon the kindness of others. In the face of persecution and a hostile world (10:16-39), Jesus exhorts his followers to care for the traveling minister, no matter the cost. The disciples would depend upon the good will of others to welcome them, feed them, and support them in their itinerant ministry. So Jesus explains that to show love in this way to his ambassadors is actually to show love to him.

One of the first post-canon documents, The Didache, demonstrates that caring for traveling ministers was a pressing issue in the first centuries of the church’s history. The Didache—essentially, an early church constitution—contains 15 short chapters, three of which deal with the protocol for welcoming itinerant teachers, apostles, and prophets. Some so-called ministers, the document concludes, are cheats looking for a handout. But as for the true teacher: “welcome him as you would the Lord” (11:2). This was a pressing issue in the early church and the crux of Jesus’s concern in Matthew 10 and 25.

Conclusion

Matthew 25 is about social justice in the sense that it is about caring for the needy. But the needy in view are fellow Christians, especially those who depend on our hospitality and generosity for their ministry. “The least of these” is not a blanket statement about the church’s responsibility to meet the needs of all the poor, let alone a definitive statement about federal budgets.

Again, this is no excuse to be indifferent toward the poor or unconcerned about hurting people. Christians can argue for any number of programs based on other texts and other principles. But as an exegetical point about Matthew 25, we must try our best to say what the text means to say. And in this case, Jesus says we are big trouble if we are too embarrassed, too lazy, or too cowardly to support fellow Christians who depend on our assistance and suffer for the sake of the gospel.

Save

View more on Kevin DeYoung's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on March 20, 2017 17:08

Who Are âthe Least of Theseâ?