Kevin DeYoung's Blog, page 87
January 17, 2014
John Calvin on Sleeping in Church
Last Sunday I preached on the story in Acts 20 of sleepy Eutyches falling out the window, as Paul had decided that the stroke of midnight was no reason to wrap up his sermon. For churchgoers, the moral of the story is obvious: long sermons can kill you. For pastors, the significance is also plain: stay awake during the sermon, or else.
During my preparation, I was very interested to see how John Calvin handled this fatal nap. Would he by sympathetic? Would he be full of chastisement?
Turns out, a little of both.
Calvin assumes Eutyches sat by the window because it was the only spot he could find. Otherwise it would have been “filthy licentiousness in despising the heavenly doctrine to depart aside into a window.” Likewise, Calvin has no patience for the person who comes to the word “loathsomely.” Among those “justly condemned for their drowsiness” are those “full of meat and wine” and those who “are vigilant enough in other matters,” but approach the hearing of God’s word with careless indifference.
On the gentler side, Calvin is prepared to give Eutyches the benefit of the doubt. He disagrees with those who sharply condemn the young boy and think God punished his drowsiness with death. What do you expect from a lad listening to preaching into the wee hours of the morning?
For what marvel is it, if, seeing the night was so far spent, having striven so long with sleep, he yielded at length? And whereas, against his will, and otherwise than he hoped for, he was taken and overcome with deep sleep, we may guess by this that he did not settle himself to sleep. To seek out a fit place wherein to sleep had been a sign of sluggishness, but to be overcome with sleep, sitting in a window, what other thing is it but fault to yield to nature?
So what would Calvin say to today’s parishoner who finds the pew a bit too comfortable? He’d probably say, “Look, nature is what nature is. You can’t stay awake forever. But if you are stuffing yourself with food and coming to church as an afterthought to the weekend’s festivities, don’t expect miracles every time your head bobs around during the sermon.”
And don’t sit by the window.
January 16, 2014
Is Theology Theoretical or Practical?
Partly for my doctoral study and partly for my own interest and edification, I’m trying to read through Francis Turretin’s Institutes of Elenctic Theology in 2014 (more likely in 2014-2015). I’ve read sections of Turretin before, but never the whole thing. So far, I’m going slow and loving it—the careful distinctions, the scholastic approach, the compact prose, the dense prolegomena. I can say without exaggeration that every Reformed pastor with a book budget should have these three volumes on his shelf. Turretin is more relevant and more influential than you think.
Early in the first volume, Turretin tackles a question first broached by the medieval Scholastics: is theology theoretical or practical? From our vantage point, the answer seems obvious. Theology must be practical. It must result in faith and obedience. It must bear fruit. The great problem in our day, we think, is that so much of our theological discourse has become theoretical–speculative, esoteric, good for nothing but puffing up smart guys with big brains.
But Turretin argues that theology cannot be simply one or the other. True theology is “mixed,” partly theoretical and partly practical (1:20-23).
We can understand the practical side of the equation. The mysteries of the faith “are impulsive to operation.” They are meant to incite us to love and worship. “A practical system is that which does not consist in the knowledge of a thing alone, but in its very nature and by itself goes forth into practice and has operation for its object.” Right doctrine counts for nothing if it does not sink into our hearts and find expression in our lives. Theology is chiefly practical.
But it is also theoretical. This is not a pejorative term for Turretin. Rather, “A theoretical system is that which is occupied in contemplation alone and has no other object than knowledge.” Here Turretin is affirming that we have something to learn from the Thomist emphasis on the beatific vision. Knowing the truth, beholding the truth, and reveling in the truth are objects in and of themselves (John 17:13; Jer. 31:34). A sermon without application can still be a biblical sermon if it causes us to see the glory of God in the face of Christ.
Turretin feared that the Socinians and Remonstrants were keen to make theology exclusively practical so as to minimize the doctrines of the Trinity and the incarnation and to pave the way for a common religion of good deeds whereby everyone could be saved. By contrast, Turretin insisted that knowledge of God and worship of God could not be separated, just like knowing what is right and doing what is right must be held together. Theology is theoretical in so far as it points us to God as the chief end in all our knowing and delighting, even as we must insist that this “beholding” produce a “becoming” more and more into the image of Christ.
January 14, 2014
Yes, We Are Judgmental (But Not In the Way Everyone Thinks)
Evangelical Christians are often told not to judge. If there is one verse non-Christians know (after, perhaps, some reference to the “least of these”) is that’s Jesus taught people, “Judge not, that you be not judged” (Matt. 7:1). Of course, what the casual Christian critic misses is that Jesus was not calling for a moratorium on moral discernment or spiritual evaluation. After all, he assumes five verses later that his followers will have the wherewithal to tell what sort of people in the world are dogs and pigs (Matt. 7:6). Believing in the sinfulness of sin, the exclusivity of Christ, and moral absolutes does not make one judgmental. Just look at Jesus.
But this doesn’t mean Matthew 7:1 has nothing to teach conservative Christians. Like everyone else on the planet, we have a propensity to assume the worst about people, to happily pass on bad reports, and to size up individuals and situations without knowing all the facts (or even half the facts). I’m not talking about disciplining wayward church members, or having hard conversations about people caught in sin, or refusing to ever take someone’s past behavior into account, or being hopelessly naive about the way the world works, or refraining from the public exchange of ideas, or suspending all our powers of discernment until we understand something or someone with omniscience. I’m talking about the all too natural tendency to shoot first and ask questions later (or not at all).
Is there a piece of biblical wisdom more routinely ignored on the internet, not to mention in our own hearts, than Proverbs 18:17?—”The one who states his case first seems right, until the other comes and examines him.” I’ve never been accused of serious misconduct that I knew to be patently false or horribly misunderstood. But if I am someday, I hope folks will remember the book of Proverbs. “”If one gives an answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame” (Prov. 18:13). Too often we are quick to speak and slow to listen. The world, the flesh, the devil, and the internet want us to rush to judgment, when the Bible urges us to suspend judgment until we’ve heard from both sides. It happens all the time: pastors sinfully judge parishoners based on hearsay, church members criticize pastors without knowing the whole story, citizen assume the worst about politicians whenever another Scandalgate emerges, kids attack their siblings at the first whiff of error.
Most of us go through life hearing dozens of reports and accusations about celebrities, athletes, pastors, and people we know, operating under the unwritten rule that where there’s smoke there must be a fire. And that’s often true. But arsonists also light fires. Sometimes the cloud of controversy conceals a raging inferno of wrongdoing. But sometimes the pungent smell of smoke turns out to be crumbs in the toaster. Best not to yell “Fire!” in a crowded building, only to find out later your neighbor likes crispy Eggos.
Some readers may wonder what has prompted this post. Nothing in particular. And everything. There is no fresh incident which inspired these thoughts. Rather, I’m writing because of the sin that I know lurks in my own heart and because of the way the blogosphere and twitterverse demand full scale denunciations the way rambunctious eight year-olds demand pixie sticks. Give them what they want and they will only ask for more.
As Christians we realize that sin deserves rebuke and the sinned against should have our deepest compassion. But we should also remember from the last days of our Lord that believing every accusation can be just as bad as making them. As long as there is Jesus, we have to allow that “controversial” and “accused” do not always mean “troublemaker” and “guilty.” We should use the same measure with others that we would want used with us, which means an open heart and an open mind. Do you want people assuming the worst about you? Do I want people passing along every bad report they hear about me? What if people talked about us the way we talk about others?
I’ve often been challenged in this regard by the Heidelberg Catechism’s explanation of the ninth commandment:
God’s will is that I never give false testimony against anyone, twist no one’s words, not gossip or slander, nor join in condemning anyone without a hearing or without a just cause.
Rather, in court and everywhere else, I should avoid lying and deceit of every kind; these are devices the devil himself uses, and they would call down on my God’s intense anger. I should love the truth, speak it candidly, and openly acknowledge it. And I should do what I can do guard and advance my neighbor’s good name. (Q/A 112)
Think of your tweets (as I think of mine). Think of your posts. Think of your conversation with friends. Think of what you talk about with your husband. Or how you talk about your wife. Think of your emails and texts. Think of the speech pouring out of your heart. Are we doing all we can to guard and advance our neighbor’s good name? Or are we ready to believe the worst, eager to pass out failure, and happy to pile on when the pile gets popular? If the mere assertion of wrongdoing can ruin someone’s life–if that’s the moral universe we want to sustain, one where guilt is presumed and innocence is only declared after it’s too late–then you and I are only a whisper away from seeing it all go down the drain.
“Judge not, that you be not judged.”
It may not say what everyone wants it to say. But it still says a lot. Much more than many of us want to hear.
January 13, 2014
January 10, 2014
Ministry Opporunities at URC
University Reformed Church is looking to hire an Associate Campus Ministry Director. The woman in this position will assist in the planning and implementation of the overall vision for our campus ministry, Spartan Christian Fellowship (SCF). In particular, she will oversee the student ministry among women. This is a fully funded, full-time staff position.
We are also accepting applications for our internship program. These full-time, fundraised positions allow for three different tracks: pastoral ministry, biblical counseling, or campus ministry.
Why Good Works Are Necessary for the Christian
Anthony Burgess (d. 1644) argued that while good works should never be construed as meritorious for our justification, they were still necessary as our duty on the way to final salvation. Here are 13 reasons why:
1. “They are the fruit and end of Christ’s death” (Titus 2:14).
2. “There is an analogical relation between good works and heaven insofar as God has appointed the way (good works” to the end (heaven).”
3. “There is a promise made to them” (1 Tim. 4:7-8).
4. “They are testimonies whereby our election is made sure” (2 Peter 1:10).
5. “They are a condition, without which a man cannot be saved. So that although a man cannot by the presence of them gather a cause of his salvation; yet by the absence of them he may conclude his damnation; so that is an inexcusable speech of the Antinomian, Good works do not profit us, nor bad hinder us.”
6. “They are in their own nature a defence against sin and corruption” (Eph. 6:14-16).
7. “They are necessary by a natural connexion with faith, and the Spirit of God.”
8. “They are necessary by debt and obligation. . . . We cannot merit at God’s hand, because the more good we are enabled to do, we are the more beholding to God. Hence it is, that we are his servants.”
9. “By the command of God” (1 Thess. 4:3).
10. “They are necessary by way of comfort to ourselves. And this opposes many Antinomian passages, who forbid us to take any peace by our holiness.”
11. “They are necessary in respect of God, both in that he is hereby pleased, and also glorified.”
12. “They are necessary in regard of others” (Matt. 5:16).
13. “Holiness and godliness inherent is the end of our faith and justification.” (Quoted in Jones, Antinomianism, 68).
January 9, 2014
Antinomianism: It’s Bigger than You Think
Let me commend to you again Mark Jones’ fine monograph Antinomianism: Reformed Theology’s Unwelcome Guest. This slim academic volume is not a quick read, but it is important, for Jones demonstrates convincingly from history that antinomianism is much more than saying “let us continue in sin that grace may abound.”
For example, in 1637 the Synod of Elders, with an eye toward refuting antinomianism in New England, declared a number of theological propositions “unsafe.” These statements from antinomian theologians were deemed by the Synod to be out of bound with the Reformed faith.
1. To say we are justified by faith is an unsafe speech; we must say we are justified by Christ.
2. To evidence justification by sanctification or graces savours of Rome.
3. If I be holy, I am never the better accepted by God; if I be unholy, I am never the worse.
4. If Christ will let me sin, let him look to it; upon his honour be it.
5. Here is a great stir about graces and looking to hearts; but give me Christ; I seek not for graces, but for Christ. . . .I seek not for sanctification, but for Christ; tell me not of meditation and duties, but tell me of Christ.
6. I may know I am Christ’s, not because I do crucify the lusts of the flesh, but because I do not crucify them, but believe in Christ that crucified my lusts for me.
7. If Christ be my sanctification, what need I look to anything in myself, to evidence my justification. (8-9)
Remember, these are the statements the Synod in New England considered unsafe, as in not good. Many have a familiar ring to them. People like John Cotton and Anne Hutchinson were arguing that we should not look for evidences of grace in our lives as confirmation of our election and justification. The antinomian impulse was one which maintained that good works were not necessary for salvation, that God delights in all Christians in the same way, that God does not see sin in the believer, that the moral law is no longer binding for Christians, that law and gospel are diametrically opposed in every way, that to strive after holiness smacks of legalistic effort, that we should not speak of spiritual duties or spiritual progress, that the subject of spiritual activity is not the believer but Christ. Clearly, antinomianism was much more complicated and went much deeper than a simple indifference to sin.
As we would expect, J.I. Packer does a masterful job of unraveling the errors of antinomianism.
Thus, with regard to justification, antinomians affirm that God never sees sin in believers; once we are in Christ, whatever our subsequent lapses, he sees at every moment only the flawless righteousness of the Savior’s life on earth, now reckoned to be ours.
Then, with regard to sanctification, there have been mystical antinomians who have affirmed that the indwelling Christ is the personal subject who obeys the law in our identity once we invoke his help in obedience situations, and there have been pneumatic antinomians who have affirmed that the Holy Spirit within us directly prompts us to discern and do the will of God, without our needing to look to the law to either prescribe or monitor our performance.
The common ground is that those who live in Christ are wholly separated from every aspect of the pedagogy of the law. The freedom with which Christ has set us free, and the entire source of our ongoing peace and assurance, are based upon our knowledge that what Christ, as we say, enables us to do he actually does in us for himself.
So now we live, not by being forgiven our constant shortcomings, but by being out of the law’s bailiwick altogether; not by imitating Christ, the archetypal practitioner of holy obedience to God’s law, but by burrowing ever deeper into the joy of our free justification, and of our knowledge that Christ himself actually does in us all that his and our Father wants us to do.
Thus the correlating of conscience with the Father’s coded commands and Christ’s own casuistry of compassion need not and indeed should not enter into the living of the Christian life, as antinomians understand it.
The bottom line of all this? The conclusion of the matter? Here, as elsewhere, the reaction of man does not lead to the righteousness of God, but rather obstructs holiness. In God’s family, as in human families, an antinomian attitude to parental law makes for pride and immaturity, misbehavior and folly. Our true model of wise godliness, as well as our true mediator of God’s grace, is Jesus Christ, our law-keeping Lord. (x-xi)
The reason for this post, the reason for Jones’ book, and the reason for Packer’s foreword is to show that antinomianism is not a phantom, a straw man, or an unheard of error in our day. Throughout history we see that the recovery of grace and the triumph of gospel-centrality are often accompanied by confusion surrounding sanctification and less than careful statements about the nature of obedience, the love of God, and human exertion. We need to know our Bibles better, our history, and our confessions. For then we would remember that the moral law is not “contrary to the grace of the gospel,” but does “sweetly comply with it” (WCF 19.7).
January 8, 2014
Top Ten Posts of 2013
I like lists–top ten lists, book lists, year end lists, new year lists, all kinds of lists. I’m always interested to see the list of best books put out by various magazines and bloggers at the end of the year. I also enjoy it when the blogs I frequent list their most trafficked posts of the year.
So, in case you were curious–or missed some of these the first time around–here are the most viewed posts from my blog in the past year.
10. Seven Thoughts on Pastors Writing Books
9. 10 Errors to Avoid When Talking About Sanctification and the Gospel
8. How to Pray Using Scripture?
7. Things People Should Never Say They Never Heard at Your Church
6. Advice for Raising Godly Children
5. What Are the Essentials of the Christian Faith
4. How Can I Tell If I’m Called to Pastoral Ministry?
3. Is John Piper Really Reformed?
2. The Scandal of the Semi-Churched
1. Why the Arguments for Gay Marriage are Persuasive
(Note: One guest post, “The Story You May Not Have Heard” by Jason Helopoulos, had enough hits to make the top ten.)
In looking over this list, I’m pleasantly surprised that only a few of these posts were generated by controversy (1 and 10, and to a lesser extent 9 and 3). I don’t know how to check my blogging stats, and I very rarely take the time to figure out which posts were popular (although you can make a good guess by tracking Facebook likes). I started this blog as an outlet for writing things I was interested in saying. And for the most part, that’s still what I do. I write about what I’m thinking, what I’m reading, and what seems to be affecting the people I know.
There is a strong temptation for bloggers to write mainly (or only) about pop culture and current events. I don’t fault Christian bloggers who write on these topics. I have before, and I’m sure I will again. But if all we aim to do is to spike our traffic by weighing in on the latest public spat, we will find that our posts get attention quickly and get forgotten even faster. Which is, I suppose, one reason that to my knowledge I’ve never written anything about Duck Dynasty or Miley Cyrus. For my part and my gifts and my calling, I’d rather look at my year-end top ten list and think five years from now “You know what, some of these are still helpful” as opposed to “Now what was that all about?”
January 7, 2014
The Ten Commandments of Twitter
And the Lord of Twitter spoke all these words saying, I am the Lord your God, who gave thee computers and tablets and smartphones, the Holy One of all social media who foreknew the internet before the foundation of the earth, yea even when the world of handles and hashtags was without form and void:
Thou shalt worship other gods before Twitter. Take heed lest ye waste your life 140 characters at a time. What shall it profit a man if he has 100,000 followers and forgets what it means to follow me?
Thou shalt not assume the worst about the tweets of others. Careful qualifications and robust explanations are not to be expected in two sentences. Cuttest thine enemies some slack.
Thou shalt not take the name of thine own person too seriously. If thou art prone to feeling offended at every turn and to feeling sorry for thyself publically before others, I beseech thee to gettest thou over it. To tweet like an eight-year-old is an abomination before me.
Remember thine hyperlinks, to keep them holy. Three things are a nuisance to others, four things are always to be avoided: broken links, trashy videos, rickrolling, and linking to thine own article 17 times in the same day.
Honor thy father and thy mother and all others to whom honor is due. Let thy tweets be full of encouragement and praise. Find what is commendable and commend it before others. Forgettest not that athletes and politicians are real people too. And rememberest thou that thy parents and pastors can read thy tweets.
Thou shalt not humblebrag. Better to be humble and say nothing or to brag and say everything, than to fool no one but thine own conscience.
Thou shalt not disguise self-congratulation in the form of lamentation. If thou shouldst mention before a multitude, and with conspicuous disappointment, that thou wast the only one white person who entered a float for Nelson Mandela Appreciation Day or that it breakest thine heart to think about the church’s responsibility for the Crusades, small shall be thy reward in heaven.
Thou shalt not make public demands of complete strangers. Calling upon others to respond to thy blog or denounce the evil thou refusest to put to rest is like unto social media terrorism. It is a constant dripping on a day of steady rain.
Thou shalt not retweet thine own awesomeness. The decree to “Let another praise you, and not thine own mouth” shall not be loosed all thy days. It is a perpetual statute, even unto the age of Twitter. Let it be a light unto thy path, to guard thy head from swelling and thy friends from cringing.
Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s klout; thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s retweets, or his followers, or his hip Instagram photos, or his travel complaints, or his mentions, or anything belonging to thy neighbor.
