Jared C. Wilson's Blog, page 66

Union With Christ as Assurance of Life

“I grew up in a common form of American Christianity that basically treated anxiety like a fruit of the Spirit. If you were not worried about your own holiness, something was wrong. In relation to this, Reformed teaching on the double grace and the will’s bondage is very good news: rather than being ‘tossed back and forth without any certainty,’ with ‘our poor consciences . . . tormented constantly,’ as the Belgic Confession says, we come to rest in Jesus Christ, knowing that new life is a gift received in union with him. In this way, we are freed to actually love and delight in God and neighbor. Otherwise, our praying, our acts of mercy, our evangelism, all are done to build up our own holiness — which blocks God and neighbor from being our focus. When both our justification and our new life are found in Jesus Christ, then this burdensome, disingenuous Christianity is replaced by Spirit-empowered gratitude.”

– J. Todd Billings, Union With Christ: Reframing Theology and Ministry for the Church (Baker, 2011), 47.

The Fountain, The Ocean

“To go to heaven, fully to enjoy God, is infinitely better than the most pleasant accommodations here. Fathers and mothers, husbands, wives or children or the company of earthly friends are but shadows; but the enjoyment of God is the substance. These are but the scattered beams; but God is the sun. These are but the streams; but God is the fountain. These are but drops; but God is the ocean.”

– Jonathan Edwards, The Works of Jonathan Edwards (Edinburgh, 1979), II:244.

In Praise of the Low-Minded Christian

A long time ago in a blogosphere far, far away, a fellow named Judson Heartsill offered the following toast at the Boar’s Head Tavern. That post has been lost to the electronic aether, but I’m glad I archived it for safe keeping. I present to you “A Toast to the Low-Minded Christian”:

I’m talking about the low-minded Christian.

Everybody knows one. Or two.

They send you chain blessing emails. (Send this back to me and 5 other people, or you’re a mean pud who doesn’t like God). They send you emails PURPORTEDLY by Andy Rooney about how there’s pictures of the 10 commandments everywhere in Washington D.C. on buildings.

They probably believe the earth is 6,000 years old.

They’re Christians primarily because they don’t want to go to hell.

They want to go to heaven primarily to see their grandma.

They watch some TBN occasionally.

They gave you a copy of “The Purpose Driven Life”.

They’re threatening to give you a copy of “Your Best Life Now”.

If they even know what apologetics is, they probably think it’s demeaning to Christians.

They read certain portions of Ephesians and tell you “now, I just can’t believe that Paul really means what he’s saying here, on election.”

Know the type?

Here’s some other facts about some of them.

They believe Jesus Christ rose from the dead– something only God could have revealed to them.

They watch their tongues.

Singing hymns or praise songs makes their heart leap upwards.

They read their bible every morning at 5:00 AM.

God is using them, right now, to make his will be done on earth.

God bless them.

High-minded Christian: You know a lot. Are you putting all that knowledge to use to serve your Master and your fellow slaves? Or are you using it to stoke your ego? It pleases God to use the weak. Just how weak are you? As weak as your low-minded brethren? I sure hope so.

I loved that piece then, and I love it now. I also need it, as a reminder and rebuke of my frequent cooler-than-thou-ness.

I remember back when some church produced a video that went viral pitting “authentic Christ-followers” against nerdy “Christians.” The message was as clear as it was simplistic and stupid: “real” disciples of Jesus wear jeans and listen to U2. The kind of Christians we should distance ourselves from are those who wear ties and listen to CCM.

This pitting of “real” against “lame” ones is spiritually bankrupt dreck from the pit of hell. Really what most mean by “authentic” in these contexts is “cool.” And the entire enterprise of mocking the uncool Christians is a huge self-justification project. It is a smug fetishizing of cynicism and hipness that is idolatry.

It is reverse pharisaism. It is, “I thank you, God, that I’m not like that lame, religious guy over there,” which is anti-grace, anti-gospel, and anti-christ.

A good number of Christian culture’s self-appointed Statlers and Waldorfs have effectively answered the question “Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Gen. 4:9) with “I have no need of you” (1 Cor. 12:21). But anyone who identifies with the way of Christ ought to have nothing but love for all the saints (John 13:35), even the dorky ones.

Look, it’s possible Jesus needs new PR, but I seriously doubt those who’ve accepted Jesus in their snark are the ones who should be providing it.

So, here’s to you, cheesy, kitschy Christians! You are the real deal.

Wesley Hill: “It Gets Better for the Chaste Too”

Important stuff from Wesley Hill, author of Washed and Waiting: Reflections on Christian Faithfulness and Homosexuality:

There’s a lot in the book about my experience of loneliness, drawing on Henri Nouwen’s powerful writings on that theme, and those descriptions have caused Matthew Vines’ readers to wonder if my experience is typical of gay people who choose to pursue celibacy. Or, more precisely, I think, it’s caused them to wonder if I am baptizing a particular experience of shame- and guilt-induced loneliness and calling it “faithfulness.”

Two initial responses come to mind.

First, I intended the book to be a sort of travelogue or “report from the trenches,” not a generic “how-to.” I wrote the first draft of the book when I was in my mid-twenties, and it shows. If I were to rewrite it now, it would read much differently, given my different stage in life. But I thought there was value in offering a report in medias res, saying, “This is how I, and perhaps many others, are experiencing celibate gay Christian life now, even if we hope to move into a healthier, more hope-filled experience of it as we grow and change.” After reading the book, a friend sent me an email he’d received from a friend of his:

I suspect that it is common to feel a relative lack of joy and loneliness in the mid-twenties… I say that in part to encourage Mr. Hill that his book as-is is probably a very useful statement for people in that age range who encounter it and that they would not likely hear an account of the perspective of a 30-year-old-plus as effectively. No reason not to write the 30-plus book with more joy in it now, but it will probably speak to those people who have matured a bit and for whom the joyfulness resonates. The old book will probably still speak to the twentysomethings in relative misery. As a twentysomething, I would have had no interest in a book telling my how rich my life would be, for example, because of my children. I would have read a book that made sense of the loneliness I felt as adolescence gave way to nascent adulthood, even if by its nature it reflected my dire sense of mind and did not offer me a happier perspective “ten years on.”

(As an aside, I should say that I think there’s a danger in using my book, or a similar book, as a statement of “the traditional Christian view” on homosexuality, as the book has sometimes been used. There is certainly a place for defending the classic teaching, but my book doesn’t do that. Instead it offers a testimony of one person’s often-stumbling attempt to follow that teaching.)

But second, I think the book is, implicitly, a request for help. Describing my experience of loneliness was a way of saying to our churches that we need to work together so that gay young people who are just coming out and beginning to try to understand what their Christian faith means in the realm of sexuality don’t have to experience the same kind of difficulties I narrated—or at least, since loneliness isn’t something you can eradicate, don’t have to experience them in the same way.

Shortly after the book was published, a friend sent me an email saying that what I needed to hear at the time I was experiencing the hunger for close friendship I describe in the book was, “It gets better for the chaste, too.” And, I’m happy to say, it has gotten better. But it could be better still, and therefore there’s more work to be done. We can make our churches safer and more supportive for gay youth, so that the narratives of Christians who are pursuing celibacy ten or twenty years from now don’t sound like the one I wrote.

Why All My Converts Suck

You have perhaps heard the story of Spurgeon, the great pastor in the nineteenth-century London, who was walking down the street one day when a man who was drunken and leaning on the lamppost yelled out to him, “Hey, Mr. Spurgeon, do you remember me?” And Spurgeon replied, “No, why should I?” The man said, “Because I’m one of your converts.” To which Spurgeon responded, “Well, you must be one of mine; you’re certainly not one of the Lord’s.”

– Mark Dever, 9 Marks of a Healthy Church (Crossway, 2004), p.104.

Why I’m Not Overjoyed Our Town’s Adult Bookstore Closed

We had to pass it every time we drove into Rutland. There was really no way around it, unless you wanted to drive miles out of the way. It was our town’s only (as far as I know) adult video store. I remember the day I drove by and they had several large poster board signs taped to the front announcing that the DVD’s were buy one get one half off. I thought of the men and women who might be tempted by such an offer. I wondered if any of my church folks ever wandered into that store. I hoped it would one day disappear.

And then one day it did. A few weeks ago, the poster board signs announced a going out of business sale. And then the big sign on top was taken down, racy underthings removed from the window displays, and the shop closed. For good, I hope.

And yet, I am not overly pleased the store has closed. Not because I think our community ought to have an adult bookstore. I am glad this particular access to pornography is no longer available. But thinking logically, I understand that this is a hollow “win” because the store likely closed because people are no longer willing to buy in a store what they can get online for free. A few years ago, the news announced that Playboy Magazine enterprises had suffered record losses. This, despite making forays into reality television and the fashion world. Many Christians celebrated. Not me. I knew Playboy was doing worse these days not because people have lost a taste for pornography but because Playboy’s offerings are seen as quaint, ineffective. People’s tastes have gotten coarser, awfuller. People won’t pay big money to see nude women when they can see explicit videos of sex acts on their computer for free.

So my hunch is that the local adult bookstore didn’t close because the community lost its interest in pornography, but because their interest has gotten worse and more demanding.

Of course we should be glad when any purveyor of smut shuts down or suffers a setback. But we should not delude ourselves. The culture of porn is financially rich and dangerously addictive. And it is not flesh and blood we must fight this war against but the powers of darkness, the forces of wickedness, the principalities and the prince of the power of the air. No amount of letter writing and picketing and photo-shaming or Internet blocking — which might shut down some providers — can do what the gospel can with the sinful human heart. The Spirit has the power to shut down the flesh. Let’s preach the gospel always and help people change. As long as there is demand, there will be supply. And while we can and should curtail supply, the real win is Christ’s cure of the demand.

The Joy of Discipleship

But now I am coming to you, and these things I speak in the world, that they may have my joy fulfilled in themselves.

John 17:13

My friend Godwin Sathianathan preached at Middletown Church yesterday morning on Mark 12:28-34, and one particular thing he said in his introduction landed on me especially heavily. He was talking about an old friend of his who was very strong for many years in church activities, discipleship groups, Christian conferences, and the like, but who ultimately left the faith, deciding Christianity was no longer for him. Godwin said that one thing that stood out to him about his friend was that his faith always seemed so burdensome to him.

Should it always be so? We all usually agree that to follow Jesus is to take up one’s cross, to constantly be doing battle against the flesh, to constantly be denying one’s self and resisting temptation and pursuing repentance. This is all hard work. Cross-carrying is not “happy go lucky” stuff. And yet, the love of Christ — love for Christ — for the Christian is seen as a more delightful experience than all the world’s charms and flesh-feedings. The very reason we take up our cross is not because dutiful religion is more fun than no religion but because we have tasted and seen that the Lord is good, that taking up our cross is better; it’s more freeing, not less. The yoke and burden Christ offers is easy and light.

Discipleship to Christ is very difficult. But it is incomparably joyful. Or ought to be. And the more we walk with Christ, the more sin we find to repent of, but the more joy we experience too. There is fullness of joy in him. The Spirit actually grows joy in us! So if my Christian life has no joy in it — ever — perhaps it is not the Christian life I’m living.

In the Writing Pipeline

I try to keep promotion of my writing and speaking exploits to a minimum around here, so I hope you’ll excuse this rare post hyping some new projects.

First, my latest book, The Pastor’s Justification, released last week from Crossway. This work was a labor of love in ministering to myself and all the fellows in the pastoral fraternity, applying the gospel of Christ’s finished work to the heart of the minister and the ongoing work of church ministry. It is probably my most personal book in that it includes a fair amount of personal examples of my own failings and trustings. The first part of the book is an exultational exposition of Peter’s admonition to church elders in 1 Peter 5:1-11, and the second part is an application of the five solas of the Reformation to the work of pastoral ministry. Lots of books for ministers focus on leadership skills and ministry “tool kits,” and there’s plenty of practical stuff in this book too, but my aim was to supply a helpful entry in the burgeoning area of gospel-centered resources aimed at the pastor’s heart. You can read what some others are saying about the book here.

Secondly, I was privileged to once again assist Pastor Matt Chandler with his follow-up to The Explicit Gospel. Coming at the end of the summer from David C Cook is Matt’s new work, To Live is Christ, To Die is Gain. Based roughly on a previous short-length Bible study resource on Paul’s letter to the Philippians, this is a fresh exploration of that powerful and personal epistle through the incomparably powerful and gospel-rich perspective we’ve come to expect from Matt’s teaching. It was a great blessing to help shape Matt’s distinctive voice for the printed page, and while we Reformed folk aren’t too prone to throw around words like this, I have to say his teaching on the radical Christ-drunkenness of Philippians strikes me as nothing short of anointed. I’m sure you’ll want to pre-order this gem.

Third, I am so stoked to share that my first novel will be coming out this fall from David C Cook. Some folks know my efforts at breaking into the publishing field began with fiction writing. I wrote 2.5 novels before we began planting a church and my writing focus transitioned to sermons and thus non-fiction publishing work. But my first love was storytelling, and I am so happy that the very first book I wrote, that very first novel that came so close to publication fifteen years ago, is finally seeing the light of day. Otherworld will be released in Cook’s new Digital First campaign, available on every major e-book platform — Kindle, Nook, you name it — as well as print-on-demand. (If it sells a decent amount of copies, it could then be released as a trade paperback available in brick and mortar stores.) This novel is a supernatural thriller taking place in and around my hometown of Houston, Texas, and is sort of an Exorcist meets The X-Files meets The Master. I hope Otherworld scares and blesses you silly.

Lastly, you are probably aware of this already, but be on the lookout for the upcoming ESV Gospel Transformation Study Bible from Crossway. I was honored to write the study notes for the books of 1 and 2 Peter and Jude. All of us involved trust this will be a very helpful resource for Christ’s church in seeing the glory of Christ in every text of Scripture. Here is an introductory video sharing more about this work:

ESV Gospel Transformation Bible from Crossway on Vimeo.

Cigar Smoking and Grace For the Accountability-Holder

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.

– Galatians 6:2

I started smoking cigars the summer after I graduated high school. That would’ve been in 1994. I smoked cigars for nearly seventeen years. Smoking cigars was my favorite way to pass the time. It may sound silly to some, but some of my favorite moments in life involved sitting with friends and enjoying some good tobacco together, talking about important things and silly things, sharing and laughing and eating. Some of my favorite moments in life involved just me and a cigar and deep thoughts about the gospel. It’s something probably only serious cigar smokers might understand.

Then I stopped. I didn’t want to, but I did. I transitioned my family’s health care coverage from insurance to a Christian “health-share” program. Incredible insurance costs were the main reason. But one of the stipulations for participation in the new co-op is abstention from all tobacco use. Alcohol in moderation is okay, but there is no consideration for “tobacco in moderation,” which I assume my roughly one cigar a month might have qualified for. I won’t lie; it was tough. Again, this might seem odd for some to understand, but take one of your favorite hobbies, something “unnecessary” but that nevertheless brings you joy and satisfaction and is an exercise of a good gift that you’ve enjoyed for over a decade — ladies, maybe it’s crafting; fellas, maybe it’s golf — and imagine someone said you have to stop. Like, for good.

But I decided it would be worth it. So two years ago I agreed to abstain. It has not been easy. Joe Thorn’s Instagram is one particular sticky thorn in my flesh. When I go visit friends or attend after-hours hangouts at various conferences, I will be among friends who are enjoying fine cigars all around me. They always offer me one, not knowing about my pledge to abstain. I have been tempted to flout the rules. I can come up with all kinds of justifications. For instance, there is no rule against eating junk food or sitting in smoggy traffic all day every day, and surely I’m healthier smoking 13 cigars a year than some folks on the plan eating McDonald’s three times a week. The flesh is great at self-justification. I am great at self-justification.

So what has kept me from cheating? On the form you fill out every year to renew membership, which includes the pledge to abstain from tobacco, there is a place where a church officer must sign to vouch for the veracity of your statements. My friends Elder Dale and Deacon Neil have been signers of this document. I know that if I cheat on my pledge, it doesn’t just make me a liar, it will make them liars. It will make me a liar to them. So even though they are not asking me (ever, really) if I’m really keeping my promises in that form, they are signing with the assumption that I am, and therefore their vouching for me is my accountability-holder.

When we think of accountability relationships (or accountability “partners”), we often think of all the ways someone might keep a weaker brother responsible for his actions. We rarely talk about how the one being held accountable might live in such a way to not make his accountability-holder look like a jerk. This runs through issues of church discipline and the like, as well. The focus is so much on gentleness and directness and loving rebuke for those sinning — which is a necessary focus, of course — that we sometimes neglect to remind people that walking in repentance and integrity is a good gift to leaders (Hebrews 13:17) because it keeps them from having to enter conflict. Us folks under accountability can take real burdens off those holding us accountable by striving to act right.

Maybe your accountability partner receives your Internet logs each week to hold your online surfing habits under inspection. When you go where you shouldn’t online, you’re not just sinning against God, you’re sinning against your brother by putting him in the difficult, undesirable, burdensome position of figuring out how to confront you, rebuke you, and restore you in ways that bring glory to God and joy to you. He will do that, because he’s committed to do it (and you asked him to). But isn’t it better to work at making sure he’s not having to be in that position?

We are looking for grace from our accountability-holders. But we ought also to be looking to how we might give grace to our accountability-holders. Maybe we ought to strive for holiness and integrity in our lives not simply out of personal religious ambition but out of relational mercy, out of a desire to not make religious cuckolds of our friends.

Outdo one another in showing honor.

– Romans 12:10

What to Do When Despised or Lied About

This is from the July 21 entry in the Encounter With God devotional plan our church has been reading together this year. It ministered to me quite a bit.

The indignant tone of this psalm [Psalm 26] suggests that the psalmist has been accused of committing some offense of which he is innocent before God. Who exactly is confronting him isn’t clear, but we know that David lived through any number of difficult circumstances. From the effects of Saul’s jealousy not long after David’s anointing as the second king of Israel, right through to the end of his reign and the troubles he had with his son Absalom, David had to contend with the type of people described here. He is adamant that he’s never courted the company of such people; he vigorously defends the way he lives and the reality of his faith, using the ritual of hand-washing and a declaration of security in God to support himself. He also invites God to examine his thoughts and feelings, and prays to be saved from the situation he’s in.

Turning to God in the face of antagonism or opposition is exactly the right thing to do. When we experience criticism, or untrue things are said about us, or facts are manipulated against us, there’s a great temptation to defend ourselves, to justify ourselves to everyone, to refute the accusations, to expose the lies of those who slander us.

This wasn’t the psalmist’s way. He turned to God for vindication; he wanted God to bring about his redemption. Jumping up and down with self-righteous indignation in defense of our reputation (even when we’re in the right) doesn’t honor God, and our behavior should place God’s honor higher than our own.

Is it easier said than done? Yes. Is it difficult to live with adverse public opinion? Yes. Can and must we trust in the Lord? Always.