Justin Taylor's Blog, page 304

A Prayer about Suicide by Resentment

Resentment kills a fool. Job 5:2

Lord Jesus, it's been entirely too hot in our city this summer, and I've registered that protest entirely too many times—so often, I can now see that my complaining has been morphing into resenting. It came to a head yesterday when I walked out my front door yesterday for a jog, only to find myself cursing the humidity, the temperature, even the sun. That led to a thirty-minute pout and deep conviction by your Holy Spirit. You made it clear the weather isn't the only thing I've been resenting lately. Have mercy on me, the sinner, have mercy on me, gracious Savior.

I resent crazy-making in the Body of Christ—obnoxious pettiness and drive-by-shooting criticisms. I resent roads that are always being repaired; drivers that delay moving four seconds after the red light turns green; birds that do their business on my windshield right after I exit the car wash.

I resent resentful people. Why can't they stop their whining and be more content with what they have? I resent good grass dying and crabgrass thriving. I resent the recent political madness of our government. I especially resent inequitable suffering. People I love suffer too much, too soon, too often in life. It just doesn't seem right or fair, Jesus.

I resent having to explain and repeat myself. Why can't everybody instantly intuit what I'm thinking? I resent grocery stores running out of my favorite cereal. Who does their stocking, anyway? I resent gossips, so much that I gossip to others about their gossip. I resent change and transition. Why can't everything stay the same, or at least disrupt my plans minimally?

Jesus, my resentment will either kill me as a fool or drive me to you for life. Today, I choose the second option. Forgive me for fertilizing a spirit of entitlement. Forgive me for not pulling up the roots of bitterness sooner. Forgive me for being better at resenting than repenting of late. Forgive me for demanding life in the "not yet" before the "already" is over. Forgive me for preaching the gospel to others but not to myself. Forgive me for telling others about the sufficiency of your grace while looking for some other balm for myself.

I make no excuses or promises. Right now, I simply collapse upon you afresh, Jesus—as my wisdom, my righteousness, my holiness, and my redemption (1 Cor. 1:30). I hope no hope for change apart from the gospel. I praise you I'm not feeling condemnation, for there is none. I praise you I am feeling conviction, for there is plenty. So very Amen I pray in your patient and loving name.

"Can This Really Be Possible and True?"

Guest Post by Dane Ortlund

"But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God." -John 1:12

On August 25, 1537, Martin Luther entered a pulpit in Denmark to fill in for a friend. He preached on this text.

At one point he stopped to exult in the inexpressible privilege of being "the dear children of a gracious Father in heaven." He said–

No man, no matter who he may be, can ponder the magnificence sufficiently or express it adequately in words. We poor mortals, who are condemned and miserable sinners through our first birth from Adam, are singled out for such great honor and nobility that the eternal and almighty God is our Father and we are His children. Christ is our Brother, and we are His fellow heirs (Rom 8:17). And the dear angels, such as Michael and Gabriel, are not to be our masters but our brothers and servants. . . .

This is a grand and overpowering thought! Whoever really reflects on it–the children of the world will not, but Christians will, although not all of them either–will be so startled and frightened by the thought that he will be prompted to ask: 'My dear, can this really be possible and true?'

. . . [T]he world rates it a much higher honor and privilege to be the son and heir of a prince, a king, or a count than to be the possessor of God's spiritual goods, although by comparison all these are nothing but poor bags of worms and their glory sheer stench. Just compare all this with the ineffable dignity and nobility of which the evangelist speaks. . . . If we really believed with all our heart, firmly and unflinchingly, that the eternal God, Creator and Ruler of the world, is our Father, with whom we have an everlasting abode as children and heirs, not of this transitory wicked world but of all God's imperishable, heavenly, and inexpressible treasures, then we would, indeed, concern ourselves but little with all that the world prizes so highly; much less would we covet it and strive after it.

Indeed, we would regard the world's riches, treasures, glories, splendor, and might–compared with the dignity and honor due us as the children and heirs, not of a mortal emperor but of the eternal and almighty God–as trifling, paltry, vile, leprous, yes, as stinking filth and poison.

–Luther's Works, 22:87-89

Tepid acknowledgement is not an optional response to this.

The Kingdom and the Church

Guest Post by Robert Sagers

Pastor-theologian on the relationship between the church and the kingdom:

What is the relationship of the church to the kingdom? On the one hand, the church is a "pilot plant" of the kingdom of God. It is not simply a collection of individuals who are forgiven. It is a "royal nation" (1 Peter 2:9), in other words, a counterculture. The church is to be a new society in which the world can see what family dynamics, business practices, race relations, and all of life can be under the kingship of Jesus Christ. God is out to heal all the effects of sin: psychological, social, and physical.

On the other hand, the church is to be an agent of the kingdom. It is not only to model the healing of God's rule but it is to spread it. "You are . . . a royal priesthood, a holy nation . . . that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light" (1 Peter 2:9). Christians go into the world as witnesses of the kingdom (Acts 1:6-8). To spread the kingdom of God is more than simply winning people to Christ. It is also working for the healing of persons, families, relationships, and nations; it is doing deeds of mercy and seeking justice. It is ordering lives and relationships and institutions and communities according to God's authority to bring in the blessedness of the kingdom.

—Timothy J. Keller, Ministries of Mercy: The Call of the Jericho Road, 2nd ed. (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R), 54.

Smokin' Hot Pastors

Guest post by Jared Wilson.

Forget the wives. How hot are the pastors?

From Christopher Ash, The Priority of Preaching:

We must not equate passion with style. But we must have hearts aflame with passion. Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones famously defined preaching as, "Logic on fire! Eloquent reason! . . . Preaching is theology coming through a man who is on fire."

The story is told that when W.E. Sangster was interviewing a candidate for the ministry, the nervous young man explained that he was quite shy and not the sort of person ever to set the River Thames on fire. "My dear young brother," responded Sangster, "I'm not interested to know if you could set the Thames on fire. What I want to know is this: if I picked you up by the scruff of your neck and dropped you into the Thames, would it sizzle?"

Never mind his eloquence; was he himself on fire? (p.67)

And from John Updike's Rabbit, Run:

When on Sunday morning, then, when you go out before their faces, we must walk up not worn out with misery but full of Christ, hot with Christ, on fire: burn them with the force of our belief.

Blessed Biblicism

Guest Post by Dane Ortlund

Kevin DeYoung reviews Christian Smith's The Bible Made Impossible: Why Biblicism Is Not a Truly Evangelical Reading of Scripture, identifying several problems:

1. Straw men

2. Ignorance of mainstream evangelical theology

3. False dichotomies

4. Backtracking (denigrating a conviction, then replacing it with his own which is different in form but not in substance)

5. Selective application of his arguments (what Kevin deems "the Achilles heel of Smith's argument")

6. An unbalanced focus on American evangelicalism

7. A defective view of biblical authority

8. Psychological explaining away of "biblicism" that sees it rooted in emotional and mental insecurity

An excerpt from Kevin's conclusion:

In the end, I wonder what pastors are left with after they lose their "biblicism." I am all for gaining a Christocentric hermeneutic and keeping the main thing the main thing. But in Smith's mind the big problem with "expository preaching" today is that it "proceeds on the assumption that a minister can select virtually any passage of scripture and adduce from the text an authoritative, relevant, 'applicable' teaching to be believed and applied" by the congregation (12). I'm not sure what the alternative is—proceeding on the assumption that most passages of Scripture yield interesting stories that are more or less irrelevant to what we believe and do? I agree that evangelicals sometimes make Scripture speak definitively on matters it doesn't mean to address. But Smith's radical ambiguity about most doctrinal matters doesn't work in the real world. It is, to borrow a phrase, "the Bible made impossible."

An outstanding review, well worth a careful reading for those who have read Smith's book.

Ryle: Zeal

Guest Post by Dane Ortlund

Zeal is dangerous (Rom. 10:2; Phil 3:6). It is also crucial (Titus 2:14; Rev. 3:19).

Defibrillating words on the right kind of zeal from J. C. Ryle, preaching on Gal. 4:18–

A zealous man in religion is pre-eminently a man of one thing.

It is not enough to say that he is earnest, hearty, uncompromising, thorough-going, whole-hearted, fervent in spirit. He sees only one thing, he cares for one thing, he lives for one thing, he is swallowed up in one thing; and that one thing is to please God.

Whether he lives, or whether he dies–whether he has health, or whether he has sickness–whether he is rich, or whether he is poor–whether he pleases man, or whether he gives offense–whether he is thought wise, or whether he is thought foolish–whether he gets blame, or whether he gets praise–whether he gets honor, or whether he gets shame–for all this the zealous man cares nothing at all. He burns for one thing; and that one thing is to please God, and to advance God's glory.

If he is consumed in the very burning, he cares not for it–he is content. He feels that, like a lamp, he is made to burn; and if he is consumed in burning, he has but done the work for which God appointed him.

–J. C. Ryle, Home Truths (4th ed.; London: Wertheim, MacIntosh, & Hunt, 1859), 227-28; italics original

"One thing have I asked of the LORD . . ." -Ps. 27:4

". . . but one thing is necessary." -Luke 10:42

"But one thing I do . . ." -Phil. 3:13

Don't Waste Your Calvinism

Guest post by Jared Wilson.

I have discussed with other Calvinists just where the (well-earned) stereotype of the graceless Calvinist comes from. Shouldn't belief in total depravity necessitate profound humility? Shouldn't belief in unconditional election preclude a spirit of superiority? And yet there is a doctrinal arrogance infecting Calvinist Christianity. This culture then produces doctrinaires like Baum's man of tin: squeaky and heartless.

Cold-hearted rigidity is not limited to those of the Reformed persuasion, of course. You can find it in Christian churches and traditions and cultures of all kinds. In fact, to be fair, I have found that those most enthralled with the idea of gospel-wakefulness, those who seem most prone to champion the centrality of the gospel for life and ministry, happen to be of the Reformed persuasion. So there's that. But gracelessness is never as big a disappointment, to me anyway, as when it's found among those who call themselves Calvinists, because it's such a big waste of Calvinism.

Why? Because it's a depressing irony and a disgrace that many who hold to the so-called "doctrines of grace" are some of the most graceless people around. The extent to which your soteriology is monergistic—most Calvinistic nerds know what I'm talking about here—is the extent to which you ought to know that your pride is a vomitous affront to God. The hypocrisy is incongruous. Some attribute this phenomenon to the rise of militant fundamentalism in the late nineteenth century or the rise of Internet tribes in the late twentieth, but it goes back further than that. Here is John Newton, writing in the eighteenth century:

And I am afraid there are Calvinists, who, while they account it a proof of their humility that they are willing in words to debase the creature, and to all the glory of salvation to the Lord, yet know not what manner of spirit they are of. . . . Self righteousness can feed upon doctrines, as well as upon works; and a man may have the heart of a Pharisee, while his head is stored with orthodox notions of the unworthiness of the creature and the riches of free grace. ("On Controversy," in The Works of John Newton (New York: Williams & Whiting, 1810), 1:245.)

The problem goes further back than even Newton, however, back even before the allegedly "puritanical" Puritans of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. It goes all the way to the fall, in which the desire to know things like God knows them (Gen. 3:6) resulted not in glory to God but worship of self. Knowledge puffs up (1 Cor. 8:1).

Here's the deal, I think: the problem is not the Reformed theology, as many of my Arminian friends will charge; it's not the Calvinism. No, the problem is gospel wakefulness (which crosses theological systems and traditions), or the lack thereof. A joyless Calvinist knows the mechanics of salvation (probably). But he is like a guy who knows the ins and outs of a car engine and how the car runs. He can take it apart and put it back together. He knows what each part does and how it does it. A graceless Calvinist is like a guy who knows how a car works but has never driven through the countryside in the warm spring air with the top down and the wind blowing through his hair.

Gospel wakefulness changes theological pursuit. It reorients knowledge to become the means to knowing God, not knowing stuff. It exults in God, not merely in thoughts about God.

- (This is an excerpt from my forthcoming book, Gospel Wakefulness.)

Gregg R. Allison on the Church

Guest Post by Robert Sagers

Theologian Gregg R. Allison, coming off the publication of his Historical Theology, is in the final stages of writing a major volume on the doctrine of the church, forthcoming from Crossway. Dr. Allison was kind to take the time to answer a few questions on ecclesiology.

Robert Sagers: Do you think it's possible to formulate an "evangelical" doctrine of the church?

Gregg R. Allison: Howard Snyder has remarked, "I will argue that while there is such a thing as evangelical ecclesiology, we might more appropriately speak of evangelical ecclesiologies, in the plural, and ask what each variety might contribute to the whole" (Howard A. Snyder, "The Marks of Evangelical Ecclesiology," in John G. Stackhouse, ed., Evangelical Ecclesiology: Reality or Illusion? [Grand Rapids: Baker, 2004], 77). In one sense, I concur: I do not believe that Scripture is characterized by contradictory ecclesiologies that render any attempt to amalgamate those diverse strands into a unified ecclesiology both naïve and impossible. At the same time, any such evangelical doctrine of the church will be at best a generic discussion, treating the church's nature, attributes, ministries, government, and ordinances with broad strokes only. Such a generic doctrinal formulation represents neither the church as presented in Scripture nor the reality of the church experienced.

Specifically, an ecclesiology must be derived from either a theological conviction that there is more continuity between the covenants—the Abrahamic, old, and new covenants—or less continuity. One's position on this issue of continuity or discontinuity affects what Scripture enters into consideration in the formulation of one's ecclesiology; how one views the relationship between Israel and the church; the extent to which one allows the rules and regulations governing circumcision to pertain to the church's practice of baptism; the degree to which one permits the Old Testament priesthood to influence one's view of the church's ministry; and so forth.

Furthermore, an ecclesiology must embrace either infant baptism—as saving them from original sin through regeneration; as incorporating them into the covenant community—or believer's baptism. Additionally, an ecclesiology must advocate for a particular church polity or government—episcopalian, presbyterian, congregational, or some other structure. Moreover, an ecclesiology must represent either complementarianism or egalitarianism on the issue of women in ministry—either women are prohibited from the office of pastor/elder, or they are permitted to hold that office. Finally, an ecclesiology must advocate for a specific view of the Lord's Supper—either transubstantiation, consubstantiation, memorial view, spiritual presence view, or some combination of (non-incommensurate) views. To suspend judgment on these and other issues may strike some people as encouraging unity and furthering dialog between opposing ecclesiological persuasions, but what is sacrificed in the process is the specificity of the church as presented in Scripture and experienced in reality. Any ecclesiology worth its salt must be faithful to Scripture—all that it affirms about the church—and oriented toward reality rather than merely theoretical.

RES: Which aspect, or aspects, of ecclesiology do you think Christians neglect to their own detriment? Why?

GRA: Let me answer by focusing on what aspects have been commonly neglected or underdeveloped in evangelical ecclesiologies (the following aspects are not necessarily in any particular order).

First, for the last several decades evangelical ecclesiologies have for the most part concentrated on the functions of the church, and thus neglected to their bane the identity—the nature and attributes—of the church. For me, it is not possible to consider what the church should do until a prior matter—what the church is—has been settled.

Second, the issue of church discipline has been neglected; thus, ecclesiology has failed to urge local churches, which for the most part have abandoned the practice of church discipline, to initiate or rehabilitate this essential element for the purity of the church.

Third, the unity of the church, which is the subject of Jesus' high priestly prayer (John 17) and Paul's instructions (Eph 4), to mention just two treatments of the topic in Scripture, has been sorely neglected, resulting in a failure of ecclesiology to spur local churches toward greater oneness among their own members and greater interdependence among themselves.

Fourth, the headship of Jesus Christ over the church, while often given a nod in evangelical ecclesiologies, is rarely emphasized, resulting in local churches continuing to set their own agendas and following their own priorities instead of constantly asking themselves what the mind of the Lord is for their mission.

Speaking of mission, neglect of the missional characteristic of the church by ecclesiologies has led to confusion over what the gospel is; how the church's mission relates to broader matters such social justice and the kingdom of God; why evangelism and missions are not just matters for a church committee to handle; and how the church is to engage in missional endeavors in the midst of cultures that are becoming increasingly post-Christian or violently anti-Christian. At the same time, I'm encouraged by some recent ecclesiologies that are addressing these and other commonly neglected aspects.

RES: In your research, which books were most helpful to you in thinking through the doctrine of the church?

GRA: I rarely came across a book that failed to provide some help for me, and this pattern was true whether I was consulting books coming from my own basic orientation to ecclesiology or books from a completely different perspective. Those in the former category reminded me of the key issues to treat and reinforced my thinking; those in the latter category challenged me to consider key issues from a different perspective and prompted me to address matters that I had never contemplated. For all this help, I am very grateful!

Specific books included:

—P. T. Forsyth, The Church, The Gospel, and Society (London: Independent Press, 1962), though first published over a century ago, anticipated a surprising number of contemporary issues and addressed them in a prescient manner, paving the way for some of my comments and encouraging a passionate boldness in treating certain issues.

—Simon Chan, Liturgical Theology: The Church As Worshiping Community (Downers Grove: IVP, 2006) reinforced my basic sense that an ecclesiology needs to begin with a discussion of the ontology of the church—its nature and attributes—followed by a treatment of the church's functions—its ministries.

—John Webster, Word and Church: Essays in Church Dogmatics (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 2001) and Michael Horton, People and Place: A Covenant Ecclesiology (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2008), in different yet complementary ways, critiqued the far too common notion that the church somehow takes the place of Jesus Christ—it becomes his hands, his feet, his heart—and underscored the fact that our Lord's ministerial acts to gather, protect, and preserve his church are not transferable to human ministers. That the Son through the Spirit freely decides to give gifts to his followers and empower them to be his servants for preaching, leading, praying, shepherding, and nourishing the church is a wonderful privilege, not a prerogative they take to themselves. It both warns them not to imagine that they as leaders and members of the church somehow act as vicars of Christ in his stead, and to live their reality as servants of Christ with great humility and complete dependence on their Head.

(Image Credit.)

A Prayer for Gospel Snobs and Scribes, Like Me

And the Pharisees and the scribes asked him, "Why do your disciples not walk according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with defiled hands?" And he said to them, "Well did Isaiah prophesy of you hypocrites, as it is written, "'This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrines the commandments of men.' You leave the commandment of God and hold to the tradition of men." Mark 7:5-8

Dear Jesus, we tremble at the thought of you speaking these words to us. What could be more sobering and painful than to hear you say, "You talk about me a lot—using multiple Scriptures and well crafted theological language. You're quick to recognize and correct false teaching, and you're quite zealous to apply what you know to others. But your heart is far from me."

It would be one thing to garner such a rebuke for mimicking the worse Pharisees and the Galatian Judaizers (Gal. 2:11-21)—putting people under the yoke of performance-based spirituality, and failing to acknowledge your work as the sole and sufficient basis for our salvation. But it would be an altogether different thing to be chided for being a gospel snob and scribe. Have mercy on us, Jesus, have mercy on me.

Forgive us when our love for the truth of the gospel and the doctrines of grace is more obvious than our love for you… as impossible as that may seem.

Forgive us when we enjoy exposing legalistic, pragmatic and moralistic teaching more than we crave spending time with you in fellowship and prayer.

Forgive us when we invest great energy in defending the imputation of your righteousness but have very little concern for the impartation of your transforming life.

Forgive us when we are quick to tell people what obedience is not, but fail to demonstrate what the obedience of faith actually is.

Forgive us when we call ourselves "recovering Pharisees" or "recovering legalists," but in reality, we're not really recovering from anything.

Forgive us when talk more about "getting the gospel" than we're actually "gotten" by the gospel.

Forgive us for being just as arrogant about grace theology as we were obnoxious about legalistic theology.

Forgive us when our multiplied uses of the word "gospel" in our conversations does not translated into multiplied evidences of the power of the gospel in our lives.

Forgive us when we don't use our gospel freedom to serve one another in love, but rather use it to put our consciences to sleep.

Forgive us for creating gospel-fraternities and gospel-posses which taste to outsiders like ingrown tribes or "clubish" elitism.

Forgive us for having a PhD in the indicatives yet only a kindergarten certificate in the imperatives of the gospel.

Forgive us when our passion for the gospel does not translate into a passion for holiness and world evangelism, and caring for widows and orphans.

Lord Jesus, with convicted and humbled hearts, we ask you to change us, by your grace and for your glory. So very Amen, we pray, in your magnificent and merciful name.

What is Spiritual Authority?

Guest Post by Dane Ortlund

Packer:

Spiritual authority is hard to pin down in words, but we recognize it when we meet it.

It is a product compounded of conscientious faithfulness to the Bible; vivid perception of God's reality and greatness; inflexible desire to honor and please him; deep self-searching and radical self-denial; adoring intimacy with Christ; generous compassion manward; and forthright simplicity, God-taught and God-wrought, adult in knowingness while childlike in its directness.

The man of God has authority as he bows to divine authority, and the pattern of God's power in him is the baptismal pattern of being supernaturally raised from under burdens that feel like death.

–J. I. Packer, A Quest for Godliness: The Puritan Vision of the Christian Life (Crossway, 2010; repr.), 77

"Exhort and rebuke with all authority." -Titus 2:15