Toby J. Sumpter's Blog, page 91

Babel Moment

So presumably, you’ve had a chance to see this video from the Family Policy Institute of Washington, but if not have a look above. Or refresh yourself.

This video is at turns funny, sad, and alarming. But it’s a wonderful case study in basic reasoning and logic skills. And this is the alarming part: not merely that people are saying ridiculous things, but this is a full blown Babel phenomenon. People are saying words, and we’re all familiar with them but the meaning is being systematically drained from all of them. Six foot? Chinese? Woman?

The gospel of liberalism is the promise of freedom from tyranny and oppression. And the great Satan of liberalism is objective truth because — the masses have been catechized to believe — objective truth is the slippery slope to tyranny. If you believe your truth trumps all other experiences, all other cultures, all other beliefs, you’re just a fundamentalist jackboot away from forcing your reality down my throat.

So the liberal gospel preaches the grace of tolerance, the grace of relativism with the goal of freedom and happiness. Be sure: the children growing up catechized in this gospel are being warned that religion (and Christianity in particular) is the cause of many (if not most) of the evils in the history of the world. From the crusades to the Inquisition to the conquistadors to American chattel slavery, the narrative is that Christian fundamentalism leads to violence, coercion, slavery, injustice all propped up with Bible verses and appeals to an invisible power in the sky (the same power which, by the way, sent the flood, ordered the massacre of Canaanite villages, and routinely struck down thousands of Israelites for fussing).

If, as a conservative Christian, you can’t feel the weight of this narrative, you’ll find yourself repeatedly stepping in it.

But meanwhile the apostles of this liberalism are destroying the very culture that allows them to object to violence and coercion in the first place. They are like vandals looting and pillaging in the streets who demand that the hospital still admit them when they get hurt. What does “six feet” even mean? What does “Chinese” mean? What is a “woman” anyway? What does “hurt” mean? What does “broken” mean? What does “help” mean? Is there a liberal dictionary that can help us with which words we’re supposed to interpret literally and which ones are just poetic idioms?

The problem is that the catechism of liberalism teaches that language is fundamentally coercive. Language is violent. Words demand definitions, and definitions are like prison cells. You cannot define me!, the popular rebel voice cries. Definitions are straightjackets. Words are the worst fundamentalists of all. Tyrants. Dictators. I will define myself. I will be my own language. I will create my own reality, my own truth, my own identity, my own meaning.

But the end result of this is not freedom and happiness. The end result is that you cannot be understood. The end result of this is that you cannot understand anyone else. The end result is isolation and confusion. It turns out that meaning requires communication and community. There must be a common tongue, a reasonable amount of overlap in meaning and understanding. You cannot demand that you be allowed to define yourself, create your own meaning, your own identity and then complain that no one understands you. You cannot invent a new language and then demand that the world be fluent. There is no Babel fluency. Will you insist that this lack of understanding is willful ignorance? Are you being oppressed by their lack of understanding you? But what if they were to begin to understand you? What if they suddenly spoke your language? Now are you being hemmed in by their understanding?

And now it’s no surprise that at the very moment when most kindergarteners are learning their ABCs, in at least one charter school in St. Paul, Minnesota they’re being told that pronouns can mean whatever an individual wants them to mean. A school used to be a place where young people were taught about the way the world is, but because of the widespread fear of the violence of words and language and meaning, we are reaching the point where public schools are actually working overtime to teach children that the world is not. Is not what, you ask? We can’t say. Because if we did, we might be creeping back toward a definition and that leads to the crusades and slavery.

But here’s the thing: in a Babel moment there are really only two possibilities before us and perhaps some of each will actually happen. The two options are tyranny or dissolution. In the first Babel in history, the result was dissolution. The language of the people was confused and they scattered. Presumably in the cultural chaos that followed, basic needs of survival trumped the pride and hubris of identity politics and various tribes emerged. Some of this is already happening in the West. The vast differences in laws emerging in the American states reflect different languages, different tribes, and with celebrities and big business getting into the action, it doesn’t seem likely to dissipate.

However, the other possibility is tyranny. When language is lost, there is no discussion to be had. You can’t have peace talks, coalitions, debates, or even compromise. And all suggestions for round table discussions seem disingenuous and condescending. While I’m no tribal scholar, language and culture differences surely played a significant role in the massive injustices done to Native American tribes that inhabited the states of western America. There were some wicked Natives and there were some wicked white men. But when the meaning of words and treaties breakdown and fear takes over, there is only fight or flight. And in the end all you’re left with is “might makes right.” Some people call it survival of the fittest. There are a few voices within liberalism noting that liberal rhetoric isn’t exactly inviting conversation (see recent discussion here and here) and of course there are plenty of conservative blowhards as well, but do any of them have the courage to examine why language itself is breaking down? It’s not just condescension and smugness; there’s an even deeper aversion to meaning, truth, and words in general.

And this can go both ways. There are no winners when words cease to mean. This is a plague on conservatives and liberals and moderates. It’s a plague on our common humanity. You cannot love without understanding. You cannot love without truth. You cannot help without meaning. And I mean this very literally, like when you show up at the hospital and it turns out you cannot pick and choose your identity without significant consequences. Do a quick search on “Gender and Medicine,” and you’ll find plenty to keep you busy for a while. Turns out that life and death are still real. And unless you’re willing to jettison that reality, you’ll need to check one of those boxes on the medical form — you know the ones that have an “M” next to one and an “F” next to the other. Some medicines effect men differently. Some diseases are treated differently in women. If you want treatment, if you want to be cared for, you’ll need to speak this language. You’ll need to accept an identity that was given to you. This is not oppression. Oppression is what would happen if your life was cut short by a refusal to define your gender accurately. This is the kind of truth that sets you free. It’s no accident that most Christian missions around the world have immediately started schools and hospitals.

At the end of the day, every last human being on the planet must choose to have faith in someone or something. No man or woman lives apart from faith. The only question is where that faith is put. Not one of us knows all things, understands all things, or can begin to comprehend all things. We use our senses, our minds, our reason, and our experience, and then we trust those tools, the data they provide, and the sources of that data to give us enough information to extrapolate some sense of reality outward. The world seems to be like this, we all think in one way or another. And we make value judgments: it seems to work better this way and not so great that way. But there we are using words and language. There we are assuming meaning and reality, and based on these interpretations, we act and speak and communicate with others.

In all the old myths, Chaos is the Mother of all things. And Chaos is violent and coercive, but she gives birth to a succession of realities that somehow calm down enough to sustain life. Evolution is one more scientific attempt at explaining this story. But in these visions, we put our faith in the chaos, in the struggle, in the forces of nature, in the forces of good intentions (whatever they may be). But there is another story, another “origin myth” if you will, and it says, In the beginning was the Word…

Get Low: An Easter Meditation

“But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ… that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead” (Phil. 3:7, 10-11).

Here, Paul tells us how he taps into the power of knowing Jesus and the power of his resurrection. He does it by counting any gain as loss for the sake of Christ, and by sharing in Christ’s suffering and death. In other words, Paul says that the way you tap into the power of knowing Christ and the power of His resurrection is by getting low. Get low. Humble yourself. Consider your gains loss, your suffering as sharing with Christ, becoming like him in his death. Get low.

There are ways for Christians to pretend to get low. Sometimes in the midst of craziness, you look at yourself and can’t imagine how it could get crazier. The kids cannot get more insane. Work cannot possibly get more intense. School cannot possibly get more difficult. My health could not get worse. You tell yourself that you are as low as you could possibly be. Sometimes you do this while you are subtly comparing yourself to others. Compared to her, I’m pretty low. Compared to him, I’m really low. Our family is a lot lower than their family. All our challenges, all our difficulties add up to a lot lower than theirs.

And because we value ourselves by ourselves, by how we feel, or by how we think we compare, we become frustrated, overwhelmed, anxious, and often despair. This is because you are not actually trying to get low. You’re trying to convince yourself that you are low enough. You are not trying to know Jesus and the power of His resurrection. You’re trying not to die. You’re trying to stay alive. You’re trying to keep your head above the water. But this means that you haven’t really counted everything loss for the sake of Christ. You’re worried that if you count it loss, if you count your children loss, if you count your education loss, if you count the organization of your house loss, your work loss, your yard loss, your neighbors loss, your ministry loss – you’re afraid you’ll lose it. You’re afraid Christ won’t notice.

This reveals what you are really doing, what you really believe. You believe that you are holding all of these things together. You believe that you are holding your children together, your house together, your work together, your sanity together, your friends together. But you aren’t. You are not God; you are not your Savior. And clearly, you have not actually gotten low at all. You are going insane. You are overwhelmed and stressing and getting frustrated and worried and angry, but you are not allowing those things to actually humble you. Ironically, the greater your problems, the more puffed up you are getting. You’re not thinking less of yourself; you’re actually thinking more of yourself. And the biblical name for this condition is pride. But Jesus died for that pride, the pride of looking at yourself in the mirror thinking that you must be very humble. There is no power in looking in the mirror at all the hard things you are carrying. There is only power in knowing Christ and His resurrection.

Because when you look to Christ, you see Christ crucified, Christ hung on a tree, you see Him there suffering and dying for you. You see Him there taking away your sin, taking away your shame, taking away your guilt. This is why there is power in considering all things loss for the sake of Christ. Because He holds all things. He sees all things. He knows all things. You cannot comprehend it all, but He can and He did. But in order to tap into that power, you must get low. You must become nothing and Christ must become everything. And the One who is Risen, the One who loves you, promises to raise you up.

In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Twelves

Luke XXXIII: Lk. 9:1-17

Introduction

The Kingdom of God is the Kingdom of the Risen King of Israel. In this Kingdom, God fills empty hands with plenty to share; He makes the weak His means of power.

The New Twelve

Notice that Luke has organized this section with a high concentration of “twelves” (8:42, 8:43, 9:1, 9:12, 9:17). Remember, we noted several indications that Luke wants us to think about Israel when we read about Jairus’s daughter and the woman with the flow of blood. She is like a barren Israel and Jairus and his wife laugh at the thought of receiving their child back from the dead (8:53, cf. Gen. 18:12-15, 21:6). If Jesus can make a barren woman fertile and call a child from the barren womb of the grave, then He is doing what God did for Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. What God did for Abraham and Israel, He is now doing through Jesus. Therefore Israel is being called to believe in Him just like Abraham did centuries before. This is how Israel will become good soil and bear abundant fruit (8:15). This is how she will weather the storms of empires and demons (8:22-39). This is how she will be cleansed and healed (8:40-56). So when Luke then immediately tells us how Jesus called the twelve and sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God, to cast out demons, and to heal the sick – the same point is being pressed (9:1-2). This new “twelve” is calling the rest of Israel to join them in believing in Jesus.

Twelve for Twelve

So it’s not an accident that word reaches Herod, and he is perplexed (9:7). On the one hand this demonstrates that the twelve really did have a significant impact on Israel – word got back to Herod. It also indicates the kind of impact they were having: it reminded people of John, Elijah, or one of the other prophets of old (9:8). And while Herod wants to see Jesus, do not miss the fact that it is the twelve who have caused this disturbance in the villages through their preaching and healing (9:6). Herod’s perplexity also has hints of fear. “He sought to see him” sounds a lot like how his dad (also “Herod”) had wanted to “see” the baby Jesus when the wise men showed up from the east looking for Him (Mt. 2:1-8). This is another indicator that the new Israel forming around Jesus is a true Israel. They are being mistaken for Elijah or one of the prophets of old, and Herod is acting like a Pharaoh, threatened by this new Israel. And if that were not enough, Luke takes us immediately to the twelve upon their return from their preaching trip, and Jesus feeds this new Israel with miraculous bread in the wilderness (9:10-17). In case, we are still wondering who Jesus is and what He is up to, Luke is laying out a meticulous case for why we should see Jesus as the founder of a new and renewed Israel, a nation that believes in God like Abraham their father, a nation delivered from tyrants and fed miraculously in the desert (like the Exodus). And this means that the twelve are new “patriarchs” – new fathers of a new Israel.

Twelve Baskets

One of the significant points of this section is how Jesus empowers the twelve. He gives them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and He sends them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal (9:1-2). He fills them with this power and authority, and at the same time sends them out with nothing (9:3). It doesn’t seem like an accident that in the same section when they return (somewhat weary, no doubt), they say that the crowds should be sent away to find food (9:12). The twelve certainly don’t have enough food for the multitude, but Jesus says, “You give them something to eat” (9:13). The disciples come up with five loaves and two fish, but there were about five thousand men, plus women and children (9:14). Jesus instructs the twelve to arrange the thousands of people in groups of fifty (9:15), and then He gives thanks, breaks the loaves, and gives them to the disciples to set before the crowd (9:16). And everyone ate and was satisfied, and they took up twelve baskets of leftovers (9:17). The twelve feed the thousands and have leftovers.

Conclusions & Applications

I think this miracle is often somewhat misnamed. The miracle isn’t merely “Jesus Feeds the Five Thousand” with five loaves of bread and two fish. No, Jesus told the twelve to feed the five thousand, and then Jesus enabled them to. The miracle was that the twelve apostles were able to feed the five thousand.

In the first instance, this is a story for the Church, the New Israel of Jesus. The twelve apostles were the twelve foundation stones of the Church (Rev. 21:14, Eph. 2:20). While that apostolic office was unique, all who embrace the faith and obedience of the apostles are members of that apostolic church. And the central elements of that Church are the proclaiming of the kingdom and the breaking of bread. This can often seem powerless and ineffective. How can we make a difference in a world that thinks we are backwards and foolish? And Jesus sends us out with nothing (it seems). And it often seems like we do not have the resources to help the people who do show up. But Jesus still says to the Church: You give them something to eat. How do we do that? We sit down together, and we give thanks and break this bread and share this wine. And the solemn promise of Jesus is that there will be more when we finish than when we began. Not only that, but Luke makes it clear that this proclamation and this meal really are powerful and really do collide with the powers of the world and every Herod. In fact, when Jesus has the disciples sit the people in groups of fifty, He is arranging them in the formation of the Exodus, when a nation of slaves marched out of Egypt a conquering army (Ex. 13:18).

There is also an extended application in this passage for all Christian leaders. It is a rare leader who looks at the demands and the resources to meet those demands and thinks everything is smooth sailing. Most leaders have high expectations, intense demands, and there never seems to be enough: not enough time, not enough sleep, not enough energy, not enough manpower, not enough results, etc. And yet as a Christian leader, Jesus sends you out with empty hands and says, “You give them something to eat.” But the command carries with it a promise. When you live by faith in Jesus, there will be more when you finish than when you began. Anger, despair, and fear are the responses of unbelief, but Christ is risen (Phil. 3:7-11).

A Tale of Two Daughters

Luke XXXII: Lk. 8:40-56

[Note: A recording of this sermon is available here.]

Introduction

Like the two episodes earlier in the chapter, these two are paired together intentionally: it’s a tale of two daughters and the power of faith in Jesus to save.

The Two Daughters

Notice all the similarities between the two stories: First, it does not seem at all accidental that while on his way to heal the only daughter of Jairus (8:42), Jesus stops and heals a woman that He calls “daughter” (Lk. 8:48). The daughter of Jairus is twelve years old (Lk. 8:42), and the woman has had a flow of blood for twelve years (Lk. 8:43). The ruler of the synagogue falls down at the feet of Jesus (Lk. 8:41), and the woman comes trembling and falls down before Jesus (Lk. 8:47). Related to these acts is the fact that both Jairus and the woman have come to Jesus in desperation: a dignitary of the synagogue falling down before an itinerant teacher suggests desperation and we know that the woman has spent all of her living on physicians (Lk. 8:43). This desperation is due to the fact that both face incurable sickness (Lk. 8:43, 49). Both the flow of blood and the dead body of the child ought to make Jesus ceremonially unclean (Lev. 15:19-30, Num. 5:2, 19:11ff), but once again (cf. Lk. 5:13), it is touching or being touched by Jesus that brings healing (Lk. 8:44, 54). Notice that Jesus says faith is instrumental in both stories as well: “Daughter, your faith has made you well…” (Lk. 8:48) and Jesus tells Jairus: “Do not fear; only believe, and she will be made well” (Lk. 8:50). This last similarity reminds us of the forgiven woman at the feast in Simon’s house (Lk. 7:50). Likewise, when Jesus calms the storm on the sea, He asks the disciples: “Where is your faith?” (Lk. 8:25) And it was persevering faith that was the difference between the good soil and the other soils (Lk. 8:12-15).

Unclean Israel

There are a number of indications that these two stories are meant to be understood not merely as interesting examples of healing, but also as a commentary on the nation of Israel. The number twelve immediately reminds us of the twelve tribes of Israel, but the fact that it is a ruler of the synagogue is also striking, since thus far, synagogues haven’t received Jesus very warmly (e.g. Lk. 4:16-37). Jairus represents Israel’s predicament and need. The other detail that suggests we think about Israel is the laughter (Lk. 8:53). In fact, the woman with the flow of blood is presumably a barren woman, and it’s hard not to think of Sarah and Abraham with these stories so closely linked together. When Sarah is told that she (a barren woman) will conceive a child in her old age she laughs (Gen. 18:12). And when she gave birth she named her son Isaac (which means ‘he laughs’), and she said: “God has made laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh over me” (Gen. 21:1-6). The point is that Israel is unclean and barren and will surely die, unless she is healed and raised by Jesus. But these stories also illustrate something of what it will take to be saved by Jesus. It will take faith in Jesus.

Your Faith Has Saved You

There are several striking elements of these stories that illustrate what faith in Jesus looks like. We already noted the desperation of Jairus falling publicly at the feet of Jesus (Lk. 8:41). But don’t miss the fact that it is while they are going to the Jairus’s house that the woman interrupts Jesus (Lk. 8:42). Not only is it a bit ludicrous for Jesus to ask who touched Him in the midst of a large crowd pressing around Him (Lk. 8:45), but it could have seemed inconceivably rude to Jairus who is there with him, desperately hoping that his daughter may be saved from death. And in fact it is while this scene unfolds that Jairus’s daughter does in fact die and moments later word reaches them that it is no use bothering Jesus anymore, “your daughter is dead” (Lk. 8:49). For Jairus this is the storm taking his ship down, but Jesus says, “Do not fear; only believe, and she will be well” (Lk. 8:50). Bfore following them to the house, don’t miss the fact that Jesus stopping to ask who touched Him was not only potentially a great disappointment to Jairus, but it was most certainly also an agonizing embarrassment to the woman. She is already cursed with a serious health problem which may have left her feeling weak, but constant bleeding would also create the massive inconvenience and shame of ceremonial uncleanness and social isolation. While some forms of uncleanness were relatively minor and temporary, this woman was in a constant state of uncleanness. And now, in her desperation, enters a crowd, hoping that she may just touch the One who has made others clean, and then just as she touches the tassels of His garment and begins to slip away, He stops the crowd and begins asking who has touched Him (Lk. 8:45-46).

While it was certainly faith that drove her to reach out and touch Jesus, it also took faith to come trembling and fall before Jesus and announce “in the presence of all the people why she had touched Him and how she had been immediately healed” (Lk. 8:47). But it is that very exposure to Jesus that is her full salvation. Jesus doesn’t merely want the blood to stop, He wants to know her and He wants all the people to know her. He isn’t merely interested in healing, He’s also interested in restoring. In a similar way, in this instance, Jesus might have said the word and healed Jairus’s daughter at the moment of the request (cf. Lk. 7:7-10), but Jesus is not merely interested in healing Jairus’s daughter, He’s interested in Jairus and his wife and giving them something more. And that something more is summed up in their exchange in the house: “she is not dead but sleeping,” Jesus says, and when they laugh, “knowing that she was dead,” He took her by the hand and called her, saying “Child, arise,” and her spirit returned and she got up (Lk. 8:52-55). And if we’re reading Luke’s gospel carefully, it seems He would have us look into the face of this Man with this little girl’s parents, wondering in amazement: “Who is this, who even commands the dead, and they obey Him?”

Conclusions

It’s worth noting that the woman had been bleeding for as long as the girl had been alive. And then almost at the same moment, the death inside the woman and the death that has seized the little girl is stopped, broken, and reversed. This is what Easter means. And this is what faith in Jesus means. It means that Jesus saves.

12 Principles for Pastors on the Internet

1. Be quick to listen; slow to tweet (Js. 1:19-20). And specifically, the warning is against becoming angry quickly. Sometimes a minister of the gospel must become angry, but godly anger is cultivated carefully and slowly (e.g. the slaughter of the unborn, the destruction of families, etc.). Godly anger is never contrary to love or gentleness or self-control. But the wrath of man is just another form of terrorism. Related to this: A minister of the gospel should not be surprised at the effect of His words. A minister is called by Jesus to be a herald of God’s Word, and therefore He must be a wise messenger and well-practiced wordsmith. If you write something and the mob comes for your head, a minister must not hide behind ignorance. That’s like a Marine accidentally discharging his weapon and claiming he didn’t know it could do that. This isn’t counsel not to speak or write, but rather a charge to listen carefully and learn to speak and write well.

2. Think about the Internet as the Holy Spirit’s wonderful gift to the Church so that our words may “go out to the ends of the earth” (Rom. 10:18). And how will they hear without a preacher? In other words, use the Internet by faith. Believe God for the gift of Facebook, Twitter, blogs, email lists, etc. Paul said that He would reach unbelievers by any lawful means: to the Jews, He would gladly embrace any lawful customs or tradition, and to Greeks, He would drop those same customs in a heartbeat if it would lead to their blessing and salvation (1 Cor. 9:19-23). If Paul were alive today, His Twitter account would be blowing up. There’s a certain cynicism about the Internet that is simply unbelief. Yes, there are people sinning on the Internet, but people have been sinning with God’s good gifts for millennia. The answer is not cynicism but rather repentance and embracing the good gifts of God. Hundreds of years from now, I suspect that the Church will look back at the Internet like we do the printing press or the invention of paper and see the gracious hand of God giving us something profoundly good for the advance of the gospel.

3. Let love cover a multitude of sins (1 Pet. 4:8). And let me remind you that in Greek “multitude” means a lot. Remember that love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all things (1 Cor. 13:7). If there is any charitable way to spin it, labor diligently to hope and believe that. A minister of the gospel should put this kind of love on display, patiently bearing much. The accusation should be (from those who can see) that a man is taking far more than he’s answering, just as Jesus endured accusations, like a lamb before its shearer is silent and opens not his mouth (Acts 8:32, 1 Pet. 2:23). Related to this, a minister must understand deep in his bones the difference between defending himself and defending the sheep. Love doesn’t retaliate but gladly gives water to thirsty enemies (Rom. 12:20).

4. Cultivate a high joy. Christians are to rejoice always (Phil. 4:4, 1 Thess. 5:16), and it is the glad duty of ministers of the gospel to lead this charge. This is the joy that only rests on those who know that Jesus reigns at the right hand of the Father and He is systematically conquering the world by His grace. When Picklebutt365 is saying outrageous things on the Internet, Christian ministers remember that God is on the throne laughing at those who conspire against Him and against His anointed (Ps. 2:2). Ministers should be quick to smile, quick to laugh, and have deep cellars full of the good wine of holy joy. At the same time, ministers should avoid being (or sounding) cynically sarcastic. Godly joy is simple, clean, and pure.

5. Do not announce your pieties on the Internet (Mt. 6:1-4). On the one hand, recognize the enormous gift it is to let needs be published broadly to the Body of Christ throughout the world. On the other hand, that means you can announce how much you gave to hurricane relief or how long you spent in prayer and Bible reading this morning, and the Internet has become your street corner and Facebook is your trumpet. Likewise, let Facebook fasting be between you and your Father in Heaven (Mt. 6:16-18). Don’t confess your private sins of being lazy and distracted and undisciplined to the world and announce your newly formed holiness of repenting and leaving Facebook, giving the distinct impression that the rest of the world must still be deeply entrenched in their slavery to sloth and if they were really extra, super duper holy (like you), they would join in your pious crusade. Lastly, let other men praise you and not your own posts (Prov. 27:2). Thou shalt not humble brag.

6. At the same time, use the Internet as a bull horn of gratitude and thankfulness for what God has done for you (Ps. 149:1). Thankfulness is cultivated outloud and in public. The key is clearly pointing the praise. Is this post about the fact that you’re insecure and need some attention or is this about God’s goodness and grace? Being a quick listener means being a quick study when it comes to the developing Internet etiquette and cultural cues. This may occasionally mean that your honest gratitude sounds like a humble brag or that you’re fishing for hugs and affirmation (when you weren’t really) – so learn from your rhetorical fumble and don’t do it again. But listen and learn so that you can clearly articulate praise and gratitude and others will be encouraged to join in.

7. Apologize as publicly as you sin, quickly, directly, and without excuses (Js. 5:16). Don’t use euphemisms or hide behind ambiguities. Take responsibility for what you said or wrote, and ask forgiveness of those you sinned against. The same goes for setting records straight, retracting false or inaccurate statements or claims or just being a stinker. Love the truth. Love the truth in public. There’s nothing quite as unseemly and embarrassing as a minister of the gospel who can’t or won’t apply that gospel to himself or his words. Remember that where sin abounds, grace abounds still more.

8. Don’t feed the trolls: Do not answer a fool (Prov. 26:4). Better mud wrestle an angry pig in a rainstorm than try to reason with a fool. Likewise, never apologize for sins you didn’t commit. That only encourages them. Christians are notoriously bad at this, but it really is a bad testimony to the watching world. Christian ministers do not speak on their own authority; they speak on behalf of Jesus. They are His messengers. You have no right to alter the message, and therefore you cannot apologize for things Jesus didn’t die for. Related: Don’t grab passing dogs by the ears (Prov. 26:17). And to be very clear, there are many passing dogs on the Internet. Yes, there are always people who are wrong on the Internet, but not every fight is your fight. And of course, occasionally you do have to answer fools (Prov. 26:5).

9. Don’t whine, complain, or be huffy or fussy. Don’t be pedantic, finicky, fastidious, or sophistic. If someone claims to not understand you, don’t assume they’re insulting you. In other words, a minister may not take offense and may not be the Internet equivalent of a briar patch. And this once again requires the development of an Internet ear. Cultivate an ear to hear what it sounds like out there. The man of God must be kind, gentle, patiently correcting those in error, honestly hoping for their repentance (2 Tim. 2:24-26). One additional point that could just as easily be filed under another heading is the fact that teachers and preachers repeat themselves a lot. This is our job. And it’s our job not to be bothered by that fact. Pastors must be thankful for the task of repeating themselves. And this is why it can often be just fine to repost old sermons or outlines or exhortations or articles. There’s a way of doing it that’s just tooting your own horn (see #5), but there’s also a way of loving truth and loving people that cheerfully reminds (2 Tim. 2:14).

10. Remember that you were not ordained by the Internet. You do not serve an amorphous congregation of likes and retweets. You serve a concrete body of believers in a local region; you must be under the authority of local elders. Pastoral ministry necessarily prioritizes some needs over others. Often this means letting Jesus rule the Internet without your help because you need to prepare your sermon, visit a widow, or go out and share the gospel with unbelievers. Bernice in Cincinnati may need pastoral care but not at the expense of the saints Jesus has assigned to you in Los Angeles. At the same time, don’t underestimate how significant the Internet has become in the lives of the people God has called you to serve. While there may have been a time when it was understandable for ministers not to have telephones, I believe we can officially note that time has passed. In other words, some pastors fail by being sucked into the Internet vortex, while others fail by refusing to see how Jesus is calling them to minister to their people in and through the Internet.

11. Do not confuse the Internet with the means of grace. Jesus calls men to minister to His sheep by feeding them face to face at least once a week in the same room with the Words of the Gospel and with the bread and wine of His Table. Jesus commanded the Church to make disciples of all nations through baptizing them and teaching them (Mt. 28:19-20). The Internet is an enormously useful tool for teaching, but you can’t use the Internet to baptize or share bread and wine. That requires proximity. Internet cannot become a substitute for personal, face to face, pastoral care, hospitality, and friendship. And yet, at the same time, rejoice the ability we now have through the Internet to comfort one another across great distances, continue conversations through busy stretches, and to cultivate broader friendships and community beyond the four walls of the local church.

12. Embrace the power and limitations of written words. God made the world with words, and He said it was good. And He created people in His image who speak like Him, with fire in their mouths and in their pens. Of course this means that all the warnings about the tongue apply, and teachers will be judged with greater severity (Js. 3:1). But Jesus (in His infinite wisdom) still sends men out to speak and write and proclaim. Some of those words will be incorrect. Some of those words will be sour. Some of those words will land like smooth stones in the foreheads of giants. Some of those words will bring down strongholds and fortified cities. Some of those words will be misunderstood. Some of those words will be taken out of context. Some of those words will set worlds ablaze. And some of those words will incite riots. And Jesus, knowing all of this, determined to remake the world through the means of fallible men announcing the infallible Word of the Gospel (1 Pet. 1:23-25).

A Tale of Two Storms

Luke XXXI: Lk. 8:22-39

Introduction

Luke has presented the advent of Jesus as the arrival of God’s Word. People respond to that word in various ways, but fundamentally they either believe and obey and are set free or they don’t and they aren’t (e.g. Mary, Zechariah, the shepherds, Pharisees, the centurion, the sinful woman). Despite all the doubts and objections, Luke is piling up exhibits that demonstrate Jesus’ claim: “He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives” (Lk. 4:18). When Jesus announces freedom, His announcement accomplishes freedom. He speaks to our storms and they cease.

Two Storms

It’s important to recognize that these two episodes stand side by side in all three synoptic gospels as a tale of two storms (Mt. 8:23ff, Mk. 4:35ff, Lk. 8:22ff), and they do so for somewhat obvious reasons. In both, there is a phenomenon beyond human control: in the first, a raging storm on the Sea of Galilee (Lk. 8:23); in the second, a demonic storm no man could tame (Lk. 8:29). In both stories, it is the word of Christ that commands the storms to cease (8:24, 8:29, 32). In both stories the result is a sudden calm (8:24, 8:35) and great fear (8:25, 8:37). Don’t miss the fact that the lake figures prominently in both stories as well (8:22, 8:33). In Biblical symbolism, the sea often represents chaos and evil powers, often because it is full of sea monsters (Job 41, Ps. 18:16, Is. 27:1, etc.). Unlike pagan mythology, the sea is not inherently evil since God created it and the sea monsters (Gen. 1:21), but the Lord alone perfectly rules it. In fact, taken together, these stories remind us of at least a couple famous Old Testament stories that display God’s sovereignty over the sea: the Exodus and Jonah. Jesus reminds us of Jonah sleeping in the middle of a storm (Jon. 1:5) along with the great calm that follows, and when he comes to shore, he comes to a gentile region also like Jonah (many pigs suggests a non-Jewish community). Likewise, Jesus speaks to the waves, and they obey him, like they obeyed Moses centuries before. Also, like the Egyptian armies, Jesus destroys the “legion” by drowning them in the sea (Ex. 14:28-30, Lk. 8:33). Jesus is enacting a new Exodus.

Old Man Adam

Remember the last couple of weeks of Easter, we’ve considered the horticultural image of the word as seed (Lk. 8:4-15) and Jesus our Gardener (Jn. 20:15). While the image has shifted, we see instances of the same thing going on: Jesus asks the disciples, “Where is your faith?” (Lk. 8:25) Which is like Jesus asking, don’t you have ears to hear (Lk. 8:15)? But even more clearly, the man with the demon clearly represents good soil. But of course you might have confused him with a hard-beaten path given his past. First, notice that he is an image of the old humanity in Adam. He is naked and lives among the tombs (Lk. 8:27). He is tormented by many demons, and has been driven into the wilderness by them (Lk. 8:29). This is the old man in Adam: tormented, isolated, lonely, ashamed, unclean, living among the dead. Mark’s gospel says that he was constantly crying out and cutting himself (Mk. 5:5). Of course most people find various kinds of fig leaves to try to cover their nakedness and shame; they find ways to try to hide their sin and torment in the shadows (cf. Gen. 3:7-8). But it’s still there. And we should point out that this slavery and torment really is demonic, but perhaps not always like popular mythology claims. “Satan” means “accuser” and he is the “father of lies” – while demons may sometimes torment people in what looks like split personalities and schizophrenia, they may just as easily appear as “angels of light” suggesting lies with sincerity, nursing guilt and shame beneath nice clothes, the torment of isolation beneath fake smiles. This is no less demonic and satanic, and Jesus came to crush it.

Now Is the Judgment

Who is this that he commands even winds and water and they obey him? The clear and unmistakable answer is that this is the Lord God of the Universe in human flesh. He commands the wind and the waves; he commands Leviathan and all the great sea creatures and they obey him (Job 41). He gives the command, and the demons would depart into the abyss (Lk. 8:31). It’s unclear whether drowning in the sea actually avoided that fate, but the point is that He rules it all. He holds the keys of Death and Hades (Rev. 1:18). How did He get those keys? He went down into the abyss; He went down into death and came back alive. He wrestled that Great Leviathan, that Dragon of Old, Satan our Accuser, and He broke his neck and threw him down into the abyss and sealed it over him (Rev. 20:2-3). Jesus said: “Now is the judgment of this world; now will the ruler of this world be cast out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (Jn. 12:31-32). And when the herdsmen came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed, and in his right mind (Lk. 8:35).

Conclusion: The Peace of the City

It’s worth noting the severity of the disaster that has occurred: a large herd of pigs (Mark says about 2000, Mk. 5:13) has drowned in the Sea of Galilee. This is an enormous economic loss. Perhaps some of the herdsman lost their jobs. Perhaps a businessman went into bankruptcy. This likely caused some disruption in the local pagan temples since pigs were often used as sacrificial animals in Greek and Roman worship, not to mention the ecological impact on the Sea of Galilee. No wonder the people from town asked Jesus to leave (Lk. 8:37). But Luke focuses their attention (and ours) on the healed man (Lk. 8:35-36). Apparently they are more afraid of the demoniac healed than they were of him tormented by demons. Unfortunately, the world has not entirely left this sentiment behind. The old world is fine with attempts at rehabilitation so long as it doesn’t disrupt the status quo, but in so far as the status quo enslaves, Jesus came to tear it all down. All too frequently, “gospel presence” and “seeking the peace of the city” are code phrases for cowardice and compromise. On the one hand, Jesus will warn his disciples against destroying men’s lives (Lk. 9:54-55), but on the other hand, the peace that Jesus brings upends the world (Acts 17:6-7). While the people of the city send Jesus away, Jesus has planted a seed that has sprung up with fruit almost immediately, and He sends the man home with pockets full of that same explosive, life-giving seed (Lk. 8:38-39).

Liturgical Patriarchy

If I were to write an article about the dangers of patriarchy, my blog hits would spike the way peoples’ hair stands on end in the cartoons when they get electrocuted. Start talking about the husband being the head of his wife or the wife’s sacred duty of submission to her own husband, and everybody and their sister shows up to point out all the dangers, potential pit falls, alternative interpretations, and so on. Even among those who unhesitatingly believe what Paul said in Ephesians 5 and Peter taught in 1 Peter 3, they’ve seen enough carnage done in the name of those passages, that they recognize the need to state clearly what headship is not and what submission is not. Headship is not biblical tyranny. Submission is not another word for “doormat.” If somebody stands up and gives a straightforward declaration that a Christian wife owes her husband obedience in the Lord, and that a Christian husband is responsible to lead and love his wife like Christ leads and loves the Church — nine times out of ten, even the conservative complementarians will wince just a touch and point out that without careful qualifiers the presentation may be twisted to suit the whims of chest thumping men who will use it as more ammo against brow beaten women.

But this article is not about the dangers of patriarchy.

It’s about the dangers of liturgy and sacraments.

But I want to write in much the same way that I would write an article about the dangers of patriarchy. I would write such an article as a committed patriarchalist. I believe whole-heartily in the goodness and blessing of father-rule. I recognize that there are some things in what Paul says “that are hard to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction, as they do the other Scriptures” (2 Pet. 3:16). But this doesn’t mean we stop saying what Paul says, or studying what Paul teaches, or receiving what Paul delivered as the very Word of God. Likewise, when Paul says that as many as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ (Gal. 3:27) or that we have been buried with Christ in baptism (Rom. 6:3-4) or that the cup of blessing that we bless is participation in the blood of Christ (1 Cor. 10:16) — I speak as a committed sacramentalist. And when Scripture says that we are to present our bodies as living sacrifices, holy and acceptable to God, which is our spiritual worship (Rom. 12:1), I assume that he wants us to understand how the Old Testament sacrifices inform our spiritual worship today. When the writer of Hebrews says that we have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and that we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and therefore we are to offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe for our God is a consuming fire (Heb. 12:22-29), I assume that means we are to understand Christian worship as a fulfillment of Israel’s great covenant making ceremony at Sinai, the giving of the law, the feast in the presence of God, and the ongoing renewal of that moment in the ministries of the tabernacle and temple. And don’t forget John’s vision in Revelation, a glimpse into the worship of heaven where we have ascended by faith and through the powerful working of the Spirit (cf. Eph. 2:6). In other words, I write convinced that Christian worship is and ought to be a biblically and historically informed formal liturgy with the Word of God read and preached, saturated with Psalms and psalm-like hymns and prayers, all gathered around the Table of the Lord. This gathering should be like a high festival, full of loud and glorious singing and instrumentation, artistically adorned, full of heartfelt praise and joy, while we plead with God for the salvation of the lost, comfort for the suffering, and justice for the oppressed.

But just as someone might write a similar paean to the glories of men and women, to the strength of fatherhood, to the beauty of motherhood, to the dance of a man leading and his bride following — and there is certainly plenty of room for such poetry — the fact remains that every true and good and beautiful thing has a way of attracting people for all the wrong reasons, people who see in the rhetoric a bit of shadow to hide in. An abusive man might hide in the language of “headship” and cow his wife into a pseudo-submission using verses from Paul and certain snatches of sermons taken out of context. And wise pastors work overtime to thwart these attempts and protect the flock from these kinds of wolves. But there are certain kinds of passive and lazy men who are attracted to liturgy and sacramentalism and try to find room to hide in words like mystery and ritual and symbolism. You see, if God is mysteriously at work in ways we can’t understand, if you move your hand this way and you bow and you kneel and you light candles and somehow God is working, it can seem like a clever cover for how you sit on the couch all night. It can seem like a deep theological cover for why you aren’t diligently disciplining your children. It can seem like a pious pretense for not addressing sin head on in your family. You haven’t confronted your wife for her bitterness because that would create a mess, and so you insist that your family suffer through another agonizing session of chanting an anglican psalm that your kids are making mental notes to never care about. And your wife sort of puts up with it because at least you’re not actually leading her.

And all of this can apply to pastors attracted (for all the wrong reasons) to leading their congregations into a more liturgical style of worship. Shorter sermons, more discussion about what liturgy and symbolism and sacraments mean, and pretty soon there’s just not as much room for addressing the pettiness on the deacon board or the bitterness in the women’s Bible study or actually going out and sharing the gospel with unbelievers. Ah, but we all feel a lot more holy, now that the pastor is wearing a robe.

As it turns out liturgy and sacraments and family life are not nearly as different as we might have thought. Biblical liturgy is drenched in the patriarchy of God. Jesus taught us to pray, “Our Father…,” and all Christian liturgy from call to worship to benediction is an invitation to know our Father, through the blood and righteousness of His Eternal Son, by the life-giving power of His Spirit. This liturgical patriarchy has many elements, many dimensions, but just one for now: biblical liturgy is Word and Sacrament together. If lecture-hall style worship is oppressive because there is no love, no symbolism, no sacrament, perhaps it represents a certain form a dry, heartless, and overbearing patriarchy. But gooey sacramental worship without the authoritative word of the Father teaching, training, correcting, rebuking, and affirming — that is the other kind of oppressive, the oppression of laziness and cowardice and abdication.

The point isn’t to correct what God has given us. The point is to embrace it gladly, cheerfully, and keep your eyes out for the ignorant and unstable elements in the world (and in our hearts) that are all too eager to twist the good gifts of God to their own destruction.

A Little Bit of the Sea

“Then the demons came out of the man and entered the pigs, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and drowned” (LK. 8:33)

In the old baptismal liturgies, there was often an exorcism; a person being baptized would renounce Satan and all his works. The idea was that when someone was welcomed into the kingdom of God, Satan was formally and officially banished. If you think about how Peter says that baptism is the fulfillment of the flood, and Paul says that baptism is the fulfillment of the Exodus, this instinct seems exactly right. Whether we explicitly renounce the devil or not, baptism is a mini-exorcism. But notice how it works. We take a little bit of water, a little bit of the sea, the place of the sea monsters and demons, the place of raging storms, in whose depths is the abyss, and we sprinkle it on those who trust in Christ and on their children. And Paul says that when we do this, by faith, we are joined to the death of Jesus. But what has the raging sea become? What has the great sea serpent become? He’s become a harmless handful of water. What has death become? An empty tomb. What might have destroyed Noah merely dripped on him. What might have destroyed Israel merely sprayed a bit of mist as they walked between the waters on dry ground. And meanwhile our enemies are drowned; sin, death, and Satan, we renounce and mock. So Dominic and Felicia, I charge you to remember this day as the day Jesus claimed your son. I charge you to hear Him speaking to you about His love for your son. And whatever comes in future days, whatever darkness, whatever storms, whatever demons threaten you or Isaiah, I charge you to remember this day as the day Jesus announced His jurisdiction over your son. Teach your son that as he resists the devil, he will always flee from him.

Hearing the Word & Bearing Fruit

Lk. XXX: Lk. 8:1-21

Introduction

This section of Luke is all about hearing the Word of God and bearing fruit. During the forty days following the resurrection, Jesus taught His disciples preparing them for their mission so it’s fitting for us to consider what it means to listen to Christ.

The Text:

Since the beginning of His ministry Jesus has been teaching and preaching the Kingdom of God (e.g. Lk. 4:18-21, 4:31, 5:1-3, 5:17, 6:6, 6:20ff), and He continues here (8:1). But here, He also begins to talk about the various responses to His Words that have begun to accumulate around Him. It may have been disconcerting at moments how small the band of disciples was; it may have been exhilarating how large the crowds could be. Some people walked away confused or offended, some stuck around for a little while and then trailed off (and some maybe eventually came back), and still others continued to follow Jesus wherever He went. Luke notes that in addition to the twelve, there were “many women” who followed Jesus, many of whom, like Mary Magdalene, had been healed by Jesus of “evil spirits and infirmities” (8:2-3).

Jesus describes these various responses to His teaching and preaching with the image of planting seed, giving four basic categories of people. The seed is the word of God (8:11), and some of it falls on the path, is trampled underfoot, and the birds devour it (8:5). These are the people who have heard the word of God but the devil comes and takes the word from their hearts (8:12). Jesus specifically says that this prevents the people from believing and being saved (8:12). Others are rocky ground who hear the word and receive it briefly with joy, but because they have no root and no moisture, it quickly withers away under testing (8:6, 8:13). The third category of people are those among the thorns (8:7). These also hear the word of God and apparently also believe for a time, but they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does mature (8:14). Finally, some seed falls on the good soil and grows and produces much fruit (8:8). These are the ones who hear the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience (8:15).

This whole section is about hearing the word (8:8), and hearing is connected to seeing and understanding and believing (8:10). This is how the next two pictures relate to the parable. The lamp that illuminates the house is another image for the word of God (8:16-17). But perhaps surprisingly, it’s a warning about how you hear (8:18). But the point is to be good soil by holding fast to the word with a good and honest heart, and bearing fruit with patience (8:15). Finally, His mother and brothers show up, and Jesus points to those who “hear the word of God and do it” as His family (8:19-21).

Applications

First, note that the exhortation of Jesus is: take care how you hear which means that the point of the different kinds of soil is not in the first instance a statement about what peoples’ permanent, eternal state is (though like your mother told you: be careful what kind face you make). The point is that depending on how you hear at any given time, you can be any one of these soils.

The warning here is about what you’re planting and how you are receiving the seed, particularly for those in the Church, those who often hear the word of God read, preached, and taught, perhaps especially in families or communities where there is much fruit. Jesus says for some the devil snatches the word from their hearts before they even have a chance to believe (Lk. 8:12). I suspect that this is indifference, apathy, boredom, doubt, fear, believing lies, and open animosity. Jesus also points to four things that can starve or choke His Word: testing, cares, riches, and pleasures (Lk. 8:13-14). The point is not that if you’re good soil, you won’t face these things. The point is that good soil endures, resists, and repents.

Second, the opening contextual notes from Luke are not accidental. As it turns out most of the twelve disciples are going to fall away when Jesus is arrested, and it will be the women who hold fast to Jesus to the end (Lk. 23:27, 49, 55, 24:1). Also, do not forget that it was Mary, the Mother of Jesus, who was the first to hear the word of God and obey: “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord, let it be to me according to your word” (Lk. 1:38). It was a long and tumultuous road as that soil bore its fruit.

Jesus says that holding fast to the word of God with an honest and good heart requires a family-like loyalty (Lk. 8:21), and this fits the agrarian image. You don’t plant seeds and expect an immediate harvest. You plant, water, weed, water, fertilize, weed, and water patiently, for a long time before harvest. The same is true of families and community. The deep joy and security of family and community takes time, patience, sowing, watering, and weeding. And the same is true of how the Word of God bears fruit in a believer’s life. You don’t do your morning Bible reading and then look around for spiritual watermelon to suddenly appear.

There also seems to be an implication here that being good soil requires a family-like community. Good soil is not an individualistic pursuit. It requires “mother and brothers,” who will read with you, pray with you, talk to you, and this includes physical, tangible support as well (8:3). While good fruit doesn’t just “rub off” on dead plants, good fruit can be an encouragement to saplings and those facing testing and temptation. Mature plants remind the younger, struggling plants to hold on, hold fast, be patient (8:15).

This task of holding fast to the word of God and waiting patiently to bear fruit is nothing short of death and resurrection: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life” (Jn. 12:24-25). Christ is risen: He is our gardener so we can listen.

On Letting the Bible Kick You in the Teeth

Below, if I did my cutting and pasting correctly, you should find some snatches of an interview I did recently on my new book Blood-Bought World.