The Quiet Protest

Some Random Thoughts about Doing Good while Doing Minimal Harm

2012-01-04T11:16:00.000-08:00

There has been a lot of healthy talk in Christian circles lately about how best to go about doing good in the name of Christ. Both Fikkert and Corbett's When Helping Hurts and Tim Keller's Generous Justice contribute much to this discussion. Some of this is distilled from them, and some from my own experiences. Some of it may not even be right! Just some thoughts.

1.) You have to be willing to be "taken," up to a point, without getting jaded. This is really difficult. The Christian should be wise --we don't want to help in a way that winds up hurting, but neither do we want to deny aid just because a person might be playing us.

2.) Sometimes, the best thing to offer is comfort, support and companionship. Some financial holes are simply too deep for most individuals (or even congregations) to fill. The apostles once said to a beggar, "Silver and gold have I none." Of course, they promptly offered healing that is beyond most of our spiritual gifting, but we can offer the same Jesus.

3.) When in doubt, ask for counsel. If you are faced with a decision as to how to help, or whether to help, get some quick counsel from like-minded brothers and sisters. They will help you avoid purely emotional or reactionary decisions.

4.) Don't be too cautious. God is with you and you have the Holy Spirit. Not all doing good is safe. Don't be foolish (I was once, and am glad I escaped), but don't be reticent. Don't let the possible worst case scenario, or all the potential contingencies, keep you from helping someone.

5.) Doing real and lasting good is very hard to do. Many people's problems are the result of factors far out of your control (relationship issues, health difficulties, lifestyle choices). You can often alleviate immediate needs, but more needs will present themselves because of poor choices or just the size of the predicament the person is in. Do what you can, but realize you can't do everything.

6.) If you don't know how to help a person in a particular situation, get to know some people who do.

7.) Be willing to say "no," while still offering support. Sometimes people will ask you to do things that are dangerous for them (like collecting an outstanding debt). Politely refuse and tell them why.

8.) Be careful what you pray for. Sunday night we had a prayer service. Since we are an urban church, I told the congregation we needed to ask God to bring us all sorts of people, and help us welcome them and meet whatever needs we can. Immediately afterwards (actually before!) an acute need became available.

9.) Expect unexpected blessings. Getting involved in peoples' messy lives is hard. You will probably get hurt and taken advantage of. But, you will also get some really awesome unexpected blessings, too. I've seen it --tangibly and really. I don't want to share details because of the potential for embarrassing some involved, but let's just say it can be spectacular to help people.

10.) Build relationships, don't just write checks. We are good at alleviating guilt by giving money. Money is necessary, to be sure. Look to build friendships. Ask for God to bring you friends who present particular challenges --who aren't from your walk of life, your race, your education level, your economic class. Take them out, invite them over (Jesus said to!). People are people. You will be surprised at the deep bonds that can be forged.

11.) It's not wrong to feel good about doing good. Kant told us that if a virtuous act made us feel good, it wasn't virtuous (or something like that). Nonsense. It's okay to feel satisfaction when you help somebody. It's part of the reward. You won't always feel it, and not feeling it is not a reason for not doing it, but when you do, enjoy it. "I did somebody some good today" is not a bad thing.

Some Thoughts on Christopher Hitchens

2011-12-17T07:35:00.000-08:00

I understand the truth of what the Scripture says, "The fool says in his heart 'there is no God.'" Yet, smart atheists serve a purpose in the life of the thinking believer, and Christopher Hitchens was a smart atheist. Doug Wilson, his sometime sparring partner has written a fitting tribute to him over at Christianity Today. Christians do themselves a disservice when they assume that the atheist (or any opponent of evangelical Christianity) is the product of some personality disorder or traumatic experience. It is true that some very smart people go stark raving mad when it comes to their opposition to the Christian faith (Richard Dawkins comes to mind). Even Hitchens went off the rails sometimes, but generally he presented smart, credible challenges to the too-easy answers with which we comfort ourselves. I find few people on the "other side" of whom this is true (Camille Paglia would be another, but she has largely and lamentably fallen silent of late).

Many people in my circles (and I chide myself here) are satisfied with very pat answers, and are unwilling to allow their faith to be challenged by the good arguments of the other side --this is true in terms of every aspect of the Christian world-view --politics as well as religion. So, we end up repeating mantras instead of thinking deeply. Scripture is altogether different. Ecclesiastes stares into the abyss and finds some discomforting things there. Job wrangles with pain and evil and finds his ultimate answer is no answer at all --simply a call to leave it to God, and a confident resolution that God will triumph in the end. That is faith --but we need to understand why it is not always intellectually satisfying.

The larger point is to find the best opponents of what you believe and read them or, if you have the chance, wrangle with them in person. If your faith is too brittle to withstand those sorts of onslaughts, it needs to be strengthened.

One of my mentors in the ministry is an incredibly smart man, intellectually curious across the field of human endeavor. A conversation with him is at once fascinating and intellectually daunting, as topics fly by in a flurry. During his ministry in one place, a mutual friend introduced him to the notable, vociferous atheist forty-year pastor of the downtown liberal church. Yes, I said atheist. This man was not a "pat answers" universalist liberal --he denied the existence of God, and told his free-thinking congregation as much. This group would meet regularly at the same spot, in an inklings-like friendship: my friend (pastor of a large, staunchly orthodox and Calvinistic church), the acquaintance (a notable Christian Reformed intellectual), the atheist pastor, and another liberal pastor (best described as a Calvinist turned Unitarian). I once had the temerity to ask my mentor why he did this. His answer was simple, "He keeps me honest."

I think the confessional Reformed tradition suffers today from an insularity --the same people saying the same things to friendly audiences, and it can create a stifling atmosphere. My answer is not, of course, that we become liberal --it's that we develop stronger answers for why we're not, and cordial relationships with those that are. We need to have our iron sharpened, and we can only do this as we learn to intersect with those with whom we disagree. Their arguments are stronger than we think, and sometimes ours are weaker than we think. We can only change that by interacting with them.

A Brief Quote on the Reformed Faith and Our Mission

2011-12-12T11:25:00.000-08:00

W. Robertson Nicoll was a well-regarded British pastor, Bible scholar and journalist in the nineteenth century. Throughout the years, he wrote a series of obituaries and brief tributes to British church notables that he had known. These are collected in the volume entitled Princes of the Church. Some were doubtless famous in their own day and are now forgotten. Some are remembered for their scholarly accomplishments (Lightfoot and Westcott). Some are remembered by their theological heirs (A. Maclaren, Alexander Whyte, Andrew Bonar). A few stand out as titans in their respective traditions: Cardinal John Henry Newman and the great Baptist Charles H. Spurgeon.

What Nicoll says about Spurgeon flies in the face of the popular myth that Calvinism can only flourish among educated, elite people (in fact the whole history of Dutch Calvinism flies in the face of that too --google Petronella Baltus, but I digress).

Nicoll writes: It may seem a hard saying, but it cannot be doubted that his theology was a main element in his lasting attraction. Why has Calvinism flourished exceedingly in the damp, low-lying, thickly peopled, struggling regions of South London(?)...Mr. Spurgeon's hearers had many of them missed all the prizes of life; but God did not choose them for the reasons that move man's preference, else their case were hopeless. Their election was of grace. And as He chose them, He would keep them. The perseverance of the saints is a doctrine witout meaning to the majority of Christians. But many a poor girl with the love of Christ and goodness in her heart, working her fingers to the bone for a pittance that just keeps her alive, with the temptations of the streets around her and the river beside her, listened with all her soul when she heard that Christ's sheep could never perish.

The very poor...are beginning to hope that councils and parliaments will do much for them. They may find it so, but Mr. Spurgeon made little of such things. He taught them...that now in the living communion of the soul with Christ, they might have all the joy they needed. A man too wise, too experienced, not to know how slowly the battles of the poor are won and how little their victories often yield --he insisted on the joy and peace in believing, which the world could neither give nor take away. Life might pursue its hard, monotonous way of obscure toil, scanty wages and a great weight of care, but over it all there might rest a soft and sacred light. The common people heard this gladly, and well they might, for it is so. Perhaps when they have had a little more experience of the politician they will hear it more gladly than ever.

I think sometimes we have a Reformed brain, but not Reformed hearts. Calvinism and affluence are strange bedfellows, sometimes, Max Weber notwithstanding. Calvinistic commitment, historically, has seemed to wane with increased prosperity (Religion begat prosperity, Mather said, and the daughter devoured the mother).

Do we, in the new Reformed movement, really believe we are the lowest of the low, and that God can reach other lowest of the low with his sovereign grace? Or, do we assume that the elect must have a certain educational level and financial means? Are we really in this for "whosoever will" or only for people like us? May God build his people from all races and income levels and walks of life!

Glory and Grit

2011-11-29T06:48:00.000-08:00

Psalm 96:9 Worship the LORD in the splendor of holiness; tremble before him, all the earth!

Matthew 11:19 The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, 'Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!' Yet wisdom is justified by her deeds."

Our church culture tends towards extremes and absolute divides. Perhaps that is just a characteristic of the American temperament. We have a hard time with "both/ands," and usually opt for the "either/or". An example: either a church is concerned about teaching the Word and doctrine, or it is concerned about the poor. The word and doctrine crowd think the poverty crowd are simpering social-gospelers. The poverty crowd thinks the word and doctrine crowd are the dead orthodox. Well, why not orthodox people who care about the poor? Why is it so hard for us to avoid what smart people call neo-Platonic dualism? Why can't we love doctrine and those for whom life is very hard?

I find the same thing true in terms of worship and ministry model. Churches tend either toward grit or glory. The gritty church assumes that everything has to be raw to be authentic. It is like NYPD Blue, a show of unparalleled brilliance in terms of grit. The police were as flawed and volatile as the perps. The lives of the heroes were as tragic as those of the villains. The camera took it all in with unblinking eye. The gritty church assumes that worship should be as raw (and sometimes as vulgar) as life itself can be. There is little beauty, and a lot of very straight talk. I am not offering a blanket condemnation of that --I think straight, pointed sermons that are as explicit as Scripture itself can be when circumstances warrant are part of real preaching.

The good of the gritty church (and Mars Hill Seattle would be a classic example, I think) is the sorts of people they are reaching --the great unwashed multitudes that would feel very uncomfortable in a church that operated on the "glory" model (more about which below). They see prostitutes and sinners come to Christ and be forever changed. Their pews are filled with the lost who are being saved.

The glory model is different. It isn't about a particular worship style (it could be contemporary or traditional) but about attracting a particular type of person --generally affluent suburbanites. Like Ravenhill (if memory serves) said, "Churches used to be about rescuing the perishing, now they are about recruiting the promising." We need great programs and great buildings in great locations. We need to be shiny and impressive. Production values are the name of the game in worship. We want to recruit people like us --people who are smart enough to get it, and successful enough to pay for it. The church locates where life is easy (at least on the surface), and aims all it does on serving the people. Though the church (like all churches) engages in service, the ethos is more about catering to the people, rather than pressing them into the gritty areas of life. The service core of such churches, one might suspect, is rather small.

The glory church is good in that it seems to recognize that God is pleased when we do what we do as well as we can, when we are dissatisfied with shabbiness or shoddiness in music, in preaching, in teaching, in our buildings, etc. Churches do not have to be dank, ugly and serve industrial grade coffee. We can put out nice brochures and have great instrumentalists and erudite and compelling messages. All this is good.

My argument is simple: we should have both. The church should be excellent, have great worship, do all that it does with an eye towards its Master, and it should be in the prisons, on the streets, in the undesirable neighborhoods, with the addicts and the refugees and the homeless.

Can a church do both of those things? I think it must. It is not optional. A church cannot be a church and fail to seek to serve the needs of the community around it as well as the world. In many ways, it is easier to reach the world than the community. The "undesirables" across the sea are far more palatable than the ones sitting in the pew next to you --this recalls a classic scene in "The Help" where the same ladies who won't let their domestic employees use their restrooms are collecting funds for the starving children of Africa. This does not mean worship should or must become gritty. We need glory too. We need to have our eyes lifted, if only for a few moments, off what is ugly in the world and focused on what is beautiful about God in Christ.

May the church not shun the grit even as it embraces the glory.

Update: A Prison Visit, at Last

2011-11-16T14:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, God granted me success in seeing my imprisoned friend.

He is doing well, away from the issues that claw at his heart and destroy his body. He looks good. He is his "old self," which is his new self in Christ.

He hopes to get out. I don't see that happening. He has not quite come to terms with the magnitude of what is facing him.

In the meanwhile, he has joy in Christ and is ministering to others, studying the Word with them and encouraging them. I have no doubt he will do this even if he never again sees the light of day.

Visiting the prison is interesting. As I was leaving, they were pulling a sad man out of the detox/holding room not 3 feet away. A foreboding deputy had found some sort of drug in the parking lot outside the prison. An older white biker-type was being frisked and his worldly possessions cataloged. I stood there with my friend, unacknowledged, waiting for him to be taken back, watching the sad panorama of lives unfold around me. There are stone-faced prison personnel who visages bereft of human kindness --perhaps the defense mechanism that comes from any small show of compassion being exploited, there are those still in the thrall of addiction, whose minds have been forever altered by the damage of drugs. It all looks like the sad wreckage of humanity.

Perhaps saddest of all is that, due to overcrowding, all Christian services have ceased, at least for now. I pray that won't continue. There are men and women in our prisons who are ripe for Christ. Pray that we can bring him to them.

More Prison Sadness and a Note of Hope

2011-11-13T06:45:00.001-08:00

I received another letter from my friend in prison today. The third letter. I have written him three times. His letter indicates he has not heard from me or anyone else. He must be in despair. I don't know what to do but to pray. I am going to call the warden tomorrow, but I doubt he will be able to tell me anything.

Pray for my friend.

The note of hope is that some people get this. Prison reform is hard, but it can happen. Ohio is an example. May Chuck Colson be granted an extraordinarily long life --I just don't see many other Christians doing this sort of work: http://www.breakpoint.org/bpcommentaries/entry/13/18186

Oh, and just an update. My last post was prophetic. I drove to the jail at the appointed time --and was turned away at the door. I will, DV, try again early this week.

The Forgotten Man

2011-11-09T12:33:00.001-08:00

I have a friend and congregant in jail. Why he is there is really immaterial, but let's just say it is not due to any official injustice. He and I had become very close when life was going well for him and then, when things fell apart, I did not know where he was. I would hear reports from those who had seen him, and the reports were not good. So I must confess I was a bit relieved to hear he was in a place where, while certainly not desirable, he would be clothed, fed, housed, get his insulin and be away from the demons he could not seem to escape.

Prisons are not pleasant places to visit. I have been to three, each of them quite different. We do not expect prisons to be pleasant. Yet, I wish they were better than they are, for a multitude of reasons. Not only this, but prisons are not easy places to visit. If you go to see a shut-in or a sick member in the hospital, by and large, you pick your time, or you arrange a time, and you go. A prison is the luck of the draw. You drive there. Some prisons allow you to arrange a time, but there is no guarantee you can actually the person at that time. If someone else is using the visiting room, you may be out of luck (and about 2 hours of your time, without having made a visit).

It was Charles Colson who opened my eyes to the horrible reality of imprisonment. We are "law and order" people. We want those who commit offenses to serve their time. Christians, other than Prison Fellowship, have not given much thought to what ought, and ought not, occur behind bars. We allow prisoners to be dehumanized --and wonder why animals are released. Prison Fellowship has had good success with rehabilitation --except where the courts have shut them down for being too "Christian," not realizing that the gospel is at the heart of why they are successful.

To me, it should not be hard for society to provide a decent prison environment --one that made a productive use of time, that was safe, where a man could earn his keep, and improve his mind. It should not be like a murderous cattle pen, where the strong can prey on the weak, and the murder and rape are ever-present fears. Decency demands this. These are men and women made in God's image --marred by sin and candidates for redemption. They ought to be treated with basic dignity and afforded basic protections and basic joys.

I have yet to see my friend. The jail was busy, you see. I could not go when I needed to go. I must wait till tomorrow. At 3 pm. To see a man with nothing but time on his hands. Even then, this is not an appointment but a hope. I will drive an hour round-trip on this hope, as I have before, and hope I am not disappointed in my effort to see him. If this is frustrating for me, what must it be for my friend? What is more, he can only be visited by his pastor and immediate family, and then only for twenty minutes, once a month. The man's family wants nothing to do with him. The church is his family, but he is beyond most of our reach.

My friend tells me that the man who has been behind bars for years is a broken man. He is not defiant like the young offenders. He has lost hope. He is ripe to hear the gospel --but it is hard to get the gospel to him. The system and its byzantine rules (and they are staggering) makes it very hard. My friend tells me the man who comes to the prison to do services has no gospel at all --all condemnation and no grace. All of this makes me very sad.

Prisoners, like the unborn, are out of sight and out of mind for most people. They are men and women. They have done wrong and been caught. They are paying a debt of sorts. Some of them are dangerous and never need to be let out. Some of them are self-destructive and need to be kept away from the substances that enslave them. Most of them are like looking in the mirror.

I hope someday, perhaps, to have a part in prison ministry. Until then, let's not forget the forgotten men and women behind bars in this country. Let's figure out the ways to get Christ to them.

Remembering a Friend

2011-10-25T07:58:00.000-07:00

I have thought for awhile that, since many of my chief influencers in ministry are older, I was in for some painful goodbyes in the coming days. Today, God called my friend and former senior pastor Cortez Cooper to be with himself. Corty was eighty years old, and always the portrait of robust health. He modeled that stanza in "How Firm a Foundation,"

E'en down to old age all your people shall prove,

Your sovereign, eternal unchangeable love.

Corty was a modest man, not given to talk much about himself, but every once in awhile, you'd find out interesting tidbits about him. Ronald Reagan used to come hear him preach during his days as pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Nashville. God used him to bring NASCAR legend Daryl Waltrip to faith, and Corty is the reason Daryl began to drive for Tide. He had pastored First Nashville for ten years. The declining fidelity of the Southern Presbyterian Church, and its impending merger with the far more liberal and larger PCUSA led the church to vote as to whether or not to leave. Though the congregation voted in the majority to leave the old denomination, the session (at Corty's suggestion) had insisted on a super-majority, which they did not give.

Corty resigned, and went to plant a church. First Church wanted to provide finances, and Corty refused their offer. He and several hundred (out of a church of several thousand) went and started Christ Presbyterian, which grew huge under his leadership.

Yet, for all of this, the size of a church mattered not at all to Corty. We first met Corty when I interviewed to become his assistant pastor at Draper's Valley Presbyterian in rural Southwestern Virginia. His wife, Pat, had deep roots in that church. Her father, Preston Sartelle, Sr., and her brother, Preston, Jr., had been pastors of the church. Corty retired from his position as coordinator for Mission to North America. He and Pat now occupied full-time the lovely antebellum home they had purchased while he worked in Atlanta.

When we visited, the Coopers insisted that we stay with them. At first, it might seem strange to spend several days living with the man who was evaluating you for a position, but he and his wife literally met us at the car door, hugging us both. We felt at home immediately.

Corty was planning to retire (again). He wanted a faithful assistant that might succeed him as the pastor of Draper's Valley. This is, in fact, what happened. Though he and I were wired very differently, there was never a moment's friction between us. We went through some very rough times together. He was like a patient grandfather, and I learned a lot from him about how to be a pastor.

His wife, Pat, was a true mentor to my wife. She was strong, and very firm in her opinions, and yet modeled a quiet graciousness. She did not speak much, but when she did, she could cut through a fog of opinion with a simple, poignant question. She was a true help meet to her husband. She is a model of comfortable hospitality --she taught my wife that the house did not need to be perfect in order for it to be welcoming (though hers was both!). She often told the story of phoning her pastor-father from Davidson College saying, "Daddy, I met a boy, but he's a Baptist!!" Well, in God's good providence, he did not stay a Baptist. She is very much in our thoughts today. It is hard for us to think about Pat without Corty, so joined were they.

That said, it would be impossible to measure up for him. He had such a zest for life and a zest for people. He could make you feel loved and at home in an instant --he was a people magnet. When Corty retired and the church called me, he immediately began a string of interim pastorates so that he would be "out of the way" (though I always wished he had stayed "in the way!" We missed them terribly when they left). He served churches in transition. Some of these churches were very small. One was a remnant group of just a few dozen. Others were some of the leading churches of our denomination (Kirk of the Hills St. Louis and Chapelgate Baltimore). He was still doing this when he died.

God brings people like this into our lives as a precious, fragile gift. I do not have a whole host of friends, but the friends I do have are deep wells. I praise God for the elder brothers he has given me along the journey. Part of friendship is pain --deep grief when a friend is called to glory. I lost a friend my age a few years ago --that was painful. I have now lost a friend 40 years my senior --this is painful too. Lord, in your grace let me be just a little like my friend Corty Cooper.

The Power of a Living Voice

2011-10-03T07:37:00.000-07:00

We had an incredible time on Broadway. Ever since I can remember, I have been a huge fan of the live theater. For a small city, Grand Rapids had a fairly live theater scene, and I was privileged, growing up, to see quite a few shows. Since then, Pittsburgh and its grand theaters have filled the bill on our visits there.

Though I had been to Broadway once before (in its seedy days), I had never gotten to see a show. Through the generosity of some friends, we were able to see not just one show, but three. It was an awesome experience. At one, somehow I managed to get front-row center seats --nothing quite like that. At another, I got to be in the same room with Brooke Shields --Brooke Shields! The third was a lark --we had finished dinner on Monday night, and decided to go to the TKTS booth to see what was available. Most shows are dark on Monday, and we got there about 7:35 (most curtains are at 8). Nonetheless, at that time, the tickets are cheap, and the seats were grand --just one look and I can hear a bell ring, one more look and I forget everything... Pretty fun show.

What is it about live performance that makes it so compelling? Yes, movies can be awesome and profound, but there is something magical about live actors on the stage. Actors develop a dynamic between them and their audience, something that is missing from a screen (and perhaps in acting in front of a camera). Feedback is instantaneous. There is laughter and applause. There is a sense that they are with you or they aren't.

Some have hypothesized that the great revivalist orator George Whitefield was a frustrated actor. There are some similarities between acting and preaching --the great allure of being the center of attention of a crowd. The feeling can be very much like this:

The costumes, the scenery, the makeup, the props
The audience that lifts you when you're down
The headaches, the heartaches, the backaches, the flops
The sheriff who escorts you out of town
The opening when your heart beats like a drum
The closing when the customers won't come...

There is a drama to good preaching, to be sure, and preachers are human and like some measure of notice and acclaim --though of course we shouldn't be in preaching for notice or acclaim.

God puts his word on a printed page for a reason --so it might be a fixed verity, a point of truth, a standard, like the official weights and measures kept under lock and key by the government so they will not be altered.

But, he gives his word a living human voice, in part because he wired us to find this compelling. Ours is not a day of great orators. There are no Bryans on the Platte or FDRs or Churchills on the wireless. Still and all, we love a living voice. Like Nipper sitting on the coffin listening to the phonograph, we recognize our master's voice. "My sheep know my voice and they follow me...another they will not follow."

God spoke through the prophets, and through his son. Now, he speaks through fallible, human spokesmen who are faithful to his word, who can embrace and be embraced, who bleed, who empathize, who fail and make mistakes just like their hearers. On the one hand, it seems so very foolish (1 Cor 1) --but on the other hand, it seems so very wise.

Let's Try This Again --NYC living redux.

2011-09-28T10:01:00.000-07:00

As we wandered around New York over those four glorious days, I pondered a bit what New York must be like for New Yorkers --not those going from one site to another, but rather those who spend their workaday lives there. We saw New York from the Circle Line boat (a fascinating tour, even though Irene kept us from circumnavigating the island), and from the Top of the Rock (with 8000 of our closest friends). But, what about the person who drops into a hole in the ground a few blocks from his apartment, and emerges a few blocks from his office, day in and day out, in blowing snow and soaking rain?

Our view of New York is one of a holiday weekend, with lovely weather, and diminished busyness (except, of course, for Times Square). Is New York as fascinating for New Yorkers as it is for out-of-towners? Is it as fun in January as September?

I think I would like to try living in a big city someday. The mix of ethnicities, the wonderful food, the atmosphere of life, the arts scene, the neighborhood feel would be all very enjoyable. If I never get to do that in this life, I know that I shall in the next. One of the great comforts for me about Heaven is knowing that the believer will never miss out. If I don’t make it to Salzburg or St. Petersburg or Paris in this life, I know that what awaits me is far more glorious. If I never complete my bucket list of places to visit and experiences to have, I will have an eternity of endless fascination to enjoy. I long for that day.

What Would It Be Like to Live in NYC?

2011-09-28T08:32:00.000-07:00

Our view of New York is one of tourists on a holiday weekend, with lovely weather, and diminished busyness (except, of course, for Times Square). Is New York as fascinating for New Yorkers as it is for out-of-towners? Is it as fun in January as September?

I have never lived in a big city, though I love them. I have remarked often to my wife that, if we lived in Pittsburgh, I would go to the Strip District (a wholesale multi-ethnic food extravaganza) every week to buy my groceries at the Italian grocers. But would I really? Wouldn't I just go to the local corner supermarket and the big box retailer? It’s hard to say. Big cities are fun places to visit, but then again, I don’t have the three hour round-trip commute our boat tour guide has.
I think I would like to try living in a big city someday. The mix of ethnicities, the wonderful food, the atmosphere of life, the arts scene, the neighborhood feel would be all very enjoyable. If I never get to do that in this life, I know that I shall in the next. One of the great comforts for me about Heaven is knowing that the believer will never miss out. If I don’t make it to Salzburg or St. Petersburg or Paris in this life, I know that what awaits me is far more glorious. If I never complete my bucket list of places to visit and experiences to have, I will have an eternity of endless fascination to enjoy. I long for that day.

Lunching on the Cathedral Steps...

2011-09-26T12:26:00.000-07:00

The Cathedral of St. John the Divine sits in a lovely neighborhood not far from Central Park. By happy accident on our way there we happened upon the famous Tom's Diner, known to the world as "Monk's," where Jerry and George often held court. Having heard my wife's plea not to plan our entire trip around eating, we found a wonderful Italian grocery, and got a roast beef sandwich to go.

We had the loveliest lunch resting on the capacious steps of St. John the Divine (hearafter SJD). SJD began its life as the world's largest vanity project --it remains the world's largest cathedral, unfinished and with no immediate plans to finish. I say it was a vanity project because New York's Episcopalians wanted a rival to Midtown's famous St. Patrick's. Now it stands there, in its awkward unfinished state, still massively impressive. Its North Transept was destroyed by fire, filling the rest of the sanctuary with soot and smoke. The main sanctuary was cleaned and reopened; the North transept was never re-built.

The Cathedral is impressive because of its tapestries, its landmark Aeolian-Skinner organ (the gold standard in church organs and one of two grand organs in New York I had the misfortune of not hearing played!), its art and its bizarre multi-culturalism. It is here that a woman performed an "Aids Mass" by drenching herself in cattle blood (where is PETA when you need them?). It is here that a female Christ figure is displayed, with jetliners crashing through her hands. The temporary exhibit was a circle of some sort of deer skulls from the West on poles. This is not something one would see in the average Presbyterian sanctuary.

New York is filled with grand edifices. I would have loved to see the famous Riverside Church, which John D. Rockefeller, liberal Christian philanthropist, built as a cathedral to progressivism, for his favorite pastor, Harry E. Fosdick, and where the famous organist Virgil Fox warred with a subsequent Mrs. Rockefeller for the right to play his magnificent Skinner at full volume for church preludes. The gospel is still heard in some of these grand edifices (Doug Webster, an evangelical PCUSA minister who now pastors Central Presbyterian in New York, was a guest at my church this last Sunday --his brother-in-law is my assistant). I doubt it is heard at SJD, at least not part of the regular diet.

I love beauty. I love cathedrals. Our current age finds them prohibitively expensive to build, and a misappropriation of resources that might be better directed at missions and mercy. I wonder, though, why so many massive, formerly faithful churches sit vacant or, alternately, those that remain don't tell men and women of the good news of the free grace of God abounding in Jesus Christ to the penitent sinner. I wonder why so many (or the few) go in for the poor substite of deer skulls or female Jesuses or cow's blood masses.

And then I rejoice that the gospel goes forth. Manhattan houses some fine church edifices, but it houses many fine churches that don't meet in those fine edifices --thou art within no walls confined, as an old hymn has it. I am glad the gospel is going forth in New York. I am glad it is finding stock brokers and homeless people. I am glad for Jim Cymbala in Brooklyn and the late David Wilkerson in Times Square and for Tim Keller and for a host of faithful others. God has his people in that great city and he doesn't need cathedrals, as beautiful as they are, to accomplish his work.

Brokenness Is No Fun

2011-09-26T08:35:00.000-07:00

It is doubtful whether God can bless a man greatly until He has hurt him deeply... A. W. Tozer

I refer to the last year or so of life around our house as "The Year of Things Breaking." The list is too long to recount: dishwasher, new dryer, freezer, coffee maker, computer, printer and my wife's engagement ring --I am sure there are other things too! Brokenness is no fun.

Though it is aggravating when it comes to our material possessions, it is far more painful when it happens to our selves. Those who would serve the Lord will, without exception, find themselves being broken --and it is no fun.

There are various ways that God does this. In my own experience, it has been through health issues for my wife and eldest daughter. God can do it through the stubborn resistance of a much-detested indwelling pet sin. He can do it with business reversals, rebellious children, or a challenging church situation. He does it, the Westminster Confession says, for his own good purposes, a reason that sounded hollow to Job and often sounds the same to us. It is no mystery that the Psalms are filled with the "Why me?" question.

Yet, there are reasons. First, if we are to be used of God, we need to be broken. To be broken means to be disabused of our neat and tidy view of life. We begin Christian adulthood with hopes and dreams --grand aspirations for our families, for our careers, for our ministries. We soon encounter cold, hard realities. The child we groomed to be a star student struggles and needs remedial help. The son upon whom we pinned athletic glory doesn't show much interest in anything. The church on which we pinned great hopes for ministry success struggles along a bumpy road. Our own bodies are felled and hindered by unexpected illness.

People who are not broken are insufferable. People with all the answers --with perfect families as the result of perfect methods, and perfect outcomes. People with perfect churches that go according to perfect plans, and attract perfect people. Such, really, do not exist. It is an illusion --a facade constructed for public show, a path to glory without pain. It is a false path; it does not exist.

God's strength is perfected in weakness. How slow we are to learn that. The treasure of the gospel is put in jars of clay so that we can claim no credit for helping it succeed. Speaking of my own experience, the paltry little bit of suffering I have experienced has made me far more empathetic with others than I would be otherwise.

You cannot be a minister or an elder without empathy, I don't think. You can't remain cold, distant and clinical and really minister to people. You have to hurt for them and with them. That means you have to open yourself up to hurt. This, in itself, is not pleasant. You cannot proceed with the "I have no need of friendship, friendship causes pain..." self-protection mentality. You have to open yourself up to public shame. You cannot love your own reputation. You have to be willing to empty yourself as Jesus did. You cannot hire others to do your dirty work; you are called to be a servant, and there is nothing beneath your doing. You have not risen too high to change a bedpan.

I have often felt very broken. It is perhaps the worst feeling in the world. It can feel like life is unraveling without much hope. As Psalm 42 says, our experience can be like that of drowning under all God's waves and breakers rolling over us. This hurts. We have two options: it can make us withdrawn, private, chilly individuals for whom self-protection trumps being useful to God or we can allow ourselves to be broken.

Christ was broken. He was not only crushed physically, but spiritually. He emptied himself of reputation. There was no grandeur and earthly glory in what he did. He was despised and rejected by men and, for a time, by his own Father. He did this, though, for the greater good of bringing many sons to glory. The pathway to glory is through suffering --there is simply no other way. If our chief goal in life is to serve God, then we have already made our choice. We have chosen to be broken and to bleed --but not for no purpose. We have chosen it so that we might be useful to God, and humble before others.

But It's My Opinion --How Do We Know When We're Right or Wrong?

2011-09-21T13:28:00.000-07:00

One of the hardest things in the life of the church is a difference of opinion. Far too often, minds are made up with few facts, and assessments are skewed by our life experiences, emotion and subjectivity. The clash results when opinions are closed to reason, or any thought that I might be wrong. Healthy self-doubt is good for the Christian --we can pretend we are as fair and objective, and really believe we are (far so than the other guy), and yet be miles away from God's will on any given subject.

Scripture, however, gives us some guidance in this. How do we know that we are rendering a wise, godly opinion? James tells us:

James 3:13-18 Who is wise and understanding among you? By his good conduct let him show his works in the meekness of wisdom. But if you have bitter jealousy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast and be false to the truth. This is not the wisdom that comes down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic. For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice. But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.

First, it is held in meekness. The anger of men generally does not serve the purposes of God. Yes, there are occasions for righteous anger, but they are few and far between, and usually not on matters of difference between believers. In matters where truth and righteousness are not at stake, being tentative is a virtue.

Second, it is pure. It does not act from selfish motive, concern about the opinions of others, or one's own standing or selfish advantage. It seeks the welfare of God and others above its own.

Third, it is peaceable It does not provoke or seek quarrels. It ratchets down the temperature of discussions. This is one reasons elders are to be men without hot tempers --a hot temper usually equals foolish decisions.

Fourth, it is gentle. The wisdom of God is not harsh, unyielding, demanding and performance-driven. These are not godly qualities.

Fifth, it is open to reason. How often have I seen in church debates where men have said "I have made up my mind and you aren't going to change it." That is an inherently godless position; it goes against what Scripture here says. God hears us out; he considers our cause; he even "changes his mind" (I know, that's anthropopathic language, but it proves my point. To our appearances, God changes his mind). God is reasonable and open to entreaty and his servants ought to be too.

Sixth, it is fraught with mercy. A Christian should be quick to forgive and quick to seek forgiveness. He cannot live comfortably at odds with another Christian. He needs to put himself in the position of his opponent, to try to see things from his perspective, to understand him.

Seventh it is impartial. It does not regard persons, does not favor anyone, but considers all facts. It is not done out of malice or prejudice against a person.

Eighth, it is sincere This is difficult. We may sometimes know when we are being insincere, but we are capable of being sincerely wrong and heinously so. Sincerity by itself is nothing; it must be joined to these other fruits, if we are to find assurance we are in the right.

Ninth, the result is peace. I have seen torn session rooms come together by wise counsel. Men who were greatly at odds calm down, reason through, and someone proposes a solution. It satisfies everyone, and everyone leaves smiling.

I reiterate: these things must hang together. Separately, each can delude and become dangerous. A smattering of them is not enough --they must hang together. They are qualities of character and they can only come from the Spirit. Without him, is no wisdom at all.

NYC -- the Delayed Effect

2011-09-19T11:34:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, it doesn't hit you till later...

I can't believe I've been home from New York for almost two weeks. Time flew while we were there and it continues to fly. That in itself makes me long for heaven where there is no separation of time from the high points of life, neither memory nor anticipation, but always present.

I expected to be overwhelmed by New York, intimidated by its bigness and bustle. I grew up in a small town, and have lived in moderately-sized metropolitan areas, whereas my wife is from the big city (not NYC). How pleasantly surprised I was because, though New York is massive, it is divided into unique and defined areas, each with its own distinct character (SoHo, Midtown, Upper West Side, Lower Manhattan, etc). Lower Manhattan feels very businesslike --large, imposing structures, perhaps not all that different from the business sectors of other major cities, except for its notable landmarks. The World Trade Center site did not move me as I expected it would --not initially. We were there before the barricades came down and the affecting memorial opened to the public. It felt very much like a construction zone.

It did move me very much, however, upon reflection. We visited the week before 9/11 --the tenth anniversary. As I watched the various commemorations, it dawned on me in a fresh way that I was there --I stood there, on the very scene of the horror. I cannot imagine what it was like, nor would I ever care to know. I think it is good both that the WTC is getting back to business (though some of its plan remains to be realized) and that there is such a fitting memorial in the midst of a place where space is so precious. The thing that affected me most was a special that featured phone messages and conversations from those trapped in the Twin Towers --some of which were their last words on earth. That I had been there made watching the commemorations all the more moving; it gave a point of identification. Standing at the WTC site did not feel different than any other place I have visited --which was precisely how the average WTC worker felt when they arrived at work that day. I imagine that all of them anticipated a normal commute home. Tragedy disrupts the norm and reminds us how broken the world is.

I was surprised how much my whole New York experience had a delayed effect --perhaps it was simply too much to process at the time, and it dawned on me later: standing in the large holding room where so many made their first arrival on these shores (including my great-great grandfather and possibly my great-grandfather), then thinking, if the trains were confusing to me, how it must have been for those who did not speak English.

One thing stuck with me from Ellis Island --a quote by the great former mayor Fiorello LaGuardia. As a very young man, LaGuardia was a multi-lingual translator, working as the mediator between would-be immigrants and US Immigration officials. LaGuardia said the heart of the translators was with the immigrants, and they would sometimes translate in ways that would be viewed favorably by immigration officials. Many of them were the children of immigrants and they knew the great risk these people took to get to our shores, and how devastating it was to be sent away. They were mediators who were on the side of those who stood before the government officials. That makes me think of Christ. The INS officials were the representatives of the Law --they ruled according to the code (even though the code now seems ridiculously arbitrary). The translator was an advocate, a mediator before the harsh fixed reality of the code, but he was not neutral. He was on the side of the immigrant. The analogy is not a perfect one, but Christ is not a neutral mediator, either. He is very much on the side of his people. He is biased towards us. He loves us and he wants us to gain entrance, so he did everything he could so that we might enter into God's kingdom. What is more, he prevailed.

It's Monday and words are difficult, so more to come another day...

Trying to Make Sense of a Sometimes Inscrutable God

2011-09-14T07:06:00.000-07:00

I need help figuring something out. I know pastors are often expected to have more questions than answers, but here's a question.

James 1:5 says "If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him."

I have had two profound occasions in the past several weeks where I have been presented with decisions, and prayed this prayer. Each time I have not received an answer. Moreover, once in the past, over a very profound and life-altering decision, I prayed that prayer over the course of several weeks. To this day, I do not think I made a wise decision.

Here are the two decisions I was faced with.

One of our children presents us with especially difficult parental decisions. I don't want you to misunderstand -- he is not an inordinately unruly child, he simply requires special handling. I find myself praying this prayer often over how to respond to the challenges we face in dealing with him. The decision is not simple because, if I made it the way I think his choices warrant, it would have a profound and sad effect on another group of people (namely a sports team which has an inadequate number of players and cannot sustain losing one). I don't so much want advice on the decision --there are a ton of factors I have not presented here.

I am just curious, though, how to make sense of the promise in James 1:5.

Then, yesterday, as a presbytery, we were presented with a momentous decision which has the most profound implications in the life of one of our members. We were not presented with this decision or the facts leading up to it until we walked in the door of the meeting, and we were expected to decide this individual's fate within the course of a few hours. Again, throughout the meeting, I prayed this prayer. I received no response. I didn't expect writing on the wall of the sanctuary, but merely to be swayed by arguments one way or another. Receiving no response I abstained from voting. I probably abstain more than any other presbyter, for this reason.

I know the "Job's friends" answer would be "Well, you must not have fulfilled the conditions of James 1:6." My response, "Lord, I believe. Help thou mine unbelief!"

I am curious, though, for some help and thoughts on this matter. The promise seems definite, but my experience is that the wisdom is not always forthcoming in the time frame that demands a decision.

New York Observations, Part I

2011-09-08T14:01:00.000-07:00

I took my beloved wife to New York to help compensate for fifteen years of keeping my life from falling apart. Our honeymoon was somewhat lackluster (read --the highlight was a visit to the Ephrata Cloister --google it), and so I've tried to do somewhat better with key anniversaries. 10 was Chicago, 15 was NYC --and what a trip it was. The brief report is --it could not have been more perfect. I can't remember ever having a better time on vacation. It will take weeks to process it all.

Part I does not necessarily imply a Part II or III, though it might. Other posts of lessons learned from New York may include things like, "Don't trust Google Maps and 3G Coverage to get you close to your hotel with your luggage via subway" or "Brooke Shields is holding up pretty well at 46, even with the deathly Morticia Addams makeup," or "Can anyone really finish one of those Woody Allen's at the Carnegie Deli?" or "Wow, the (Episcopal) Cathedral of St. John the Divine is one big, wacky place..what's with the deer skulls?"

Part I, however, is this --Lessons Learned at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. What I know about art could be written on the back of a Monet postcard. If I were to opine about art, it would be insignficant and foolish opining, to be sure. I know what I like. I like the way Rembrandt used light (thus my office is full of Rembrandt). I am fond of Renoir, of John Singer Sargent and Henry O. Tanner. That's my postcard, but not my point.

I've been to a few art museums. I am very fond of the Chicago Institute of Art and its iconic masterpieces but the Met set itself apart in my book. It is not because of its massive size and collection, merely, though that is surely impressive. It is not because it houses Gilbert Stuart's masterful George Washington and other works of like notoriety or because it houses a bona fide Egyptian temple --all of which is very cool. Much of the Met is like other art museums I have visited --portraits hung on walls, statuary in great naturally-lit halls, and collections of various trinketry. One thing distinguished it in my mind, and that is art in context. Some of the Met is given over to rooms taken from homes, and transported and erected in the museum. You might walk through a seventeenth century American parlor, an eighteenth century Italian bedroom, or a twentieth-century Frank Lloyd-Wright living room. In those rooms you find art on the walls --the way much art was originally hung. The room itself was art; the furnishing was art, and the paintings on the walls were art. The paintings were part of the overall effect, even as they stood out from it, and were enhanced by it. You see paintings not disembodied from their natural context, but in their natural context, and it helps make sense of things --the era, the fashion, the subjects and the like.

There is much to be said for a painting on a blank wall in the museum --the way it focuses the mind on the subject at hand, and so on. Yet, seeing art in a context brings out a whole new meaning. A tree standing by itself is notable, but a lush forest full of color can overwhelm the senses.

I suppose many lessons could be drawn from this; one I choose to take away is this. Our lives happen in the midst of contexts. Though, like the paintings in those rooms there may be singular moments of great beauty, and evidence of the exquisite artistry that stands behind all our lives, much of life forms the beautiful context for those things. Life is not all art. Not every moment is interesting and compelling. The drapes and the furniture are not as compelling as the paintings, but they form the context that brings meaning to those paintings, and makes them make sense.

I think I sometimes expect that life ought to be more exciting --more paintings and less drapes and rugs. We can expect church life to be like that too --grand and bold strokes that mystically combine into something that draws the eye and arrests the attention, evidence of a master at work. Yet, there is masterful artistry in the turning of the wood for the furniture, in the sewing of the drapes, in the weaving of the rug. The mastery may not be as immediately interesting as the painting, but it is no less evidence of skill.

My moments of ennui and the dullness of routine are the master's work no less than the moment of my wedding, or the birth of my children, graduations, ordination and the like. Lord, help me to see that! There is much artistry in the backdrop of the masterworks of life.

The Spectacular and the Ordinary

2011-08-30T11:59:00.001-07:00

A few years ago, I found out that MSG has a decidedly negative effect on the way I function. This ubiquitous food additive brings nothing to the flavor party, but it intensifies how existing flavors taste. It is often used to give inferior foods superior flavor --to blitz our buds with intense flavor satisfaction. And, I can tell when I eat something laden with it, unawares. My brain doesn't work well. My face flushes. I get exhausted but can't rest. It is like having too much caffeine, but far more unpleasant.

It's not hard to figure out why the food industry loves the stuff. If I can make my product taste more intense than the other guys, then he will prefer my food. Everyone tries to one-up the other guy, and that's how you go from Coke in a reasonable 8-ounce bottle to the gigantic Mega Big Gulp with a billion calories.

Blitzed senses. That pretty much sums up our world. Everything needs to be bigger, better, faster, brighter, louder, sexier, "now with more pizzazz." We want everything to be extraordinary, to stand out. By definition, however, not everything can be extraordinary. If it is, the extraordinary becomes ordinary. If everyone lives in Versailles, then nobody is wowed by Versailles any more. We become de-sensitized --we only have, it seems, so much capacity to be wowed and awed. Then, we become jaded. Our senses are blitzed. Nothing seems extraordinary; nothing can wow me anymore. We are tired and yet can't rest: like me on MSG.

We see this in human lives too. From our earliest days we are told to "Be extraordinary." The gospel preached to us from the tacky, ubiquitous motivational posters that adorn the industrial-chic hallways of the average high school urge everyone to stand out, to soar above the crowd, to seek notice and acclaim. Don't settle for the ordinary. But again, not everyone can be extraordinary. IF everyone gets the 4.0, the 4.0 loses its meaning. If everyone is the star quarterback, who is left to play third clarinet in the half-time show?

I am facing 40. This is hard for me. I was the youngest in my class in school, one of the youngest at the seminary, pretty young for a pastor (a game in which you are, sadly, either too young or too old for most of your career, except for a brief shining moment from 38-45). Now, I am staring down the traditionally-feared birthday. I am realizing how ordinary I am. I live in an ordinary house. In a suburb. On one of a maze of identical streets. I pastor a wonderful but very ordinary church in an ordinary city. I am ordinary. And I'm okay with this.

That is a bald-faced lie. I have an Ego and too often he runs the show. That self-seeking beast wants to stand out. He wants to be something, to make his mark, to break into some elite inner ring, to be the "go-to guy," to be significant, to be noticed. When Ego doesn't get his way, he sulks. He does what he does half-heartedly. He envies the significance of others and grumbles about how undeserved it is and if people just knew what a jerk that guy was, well, things would be different. Ego hates ordinary faithfulness --it bores him to death.

I need to realize how ordinary I am, and to be okay with that. I'm not there yet, but I preach most effectively when I preach to myself. Here goes:

God can do big things with ordinary. It is not "settling for ordinary," but working hard at ordinary --that is faithfulness. In 2 Corinthians 4:7, Paul says, "But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us." Paul faced defections, failures, opposition, imprisonment and beatings. Perhaps most painfully, he faced people who mocked him and questioned his message because of his failures and how ordinary he was. There were far more spectacular speakers than him. There were self-seeking superstars, wanna-be superstars and those whom God raised up to be of particular wide-ranging blessing in the church not twenty years after Christ. And then there were foot soldiers. Faithful men, faithfully plodding, on places like Crete! Hardly a place for monumental world impact, among the lazy sluggards and gluttons of that rocky isle. Yet, God had people there and they needed to be fed.

Is it really better to be a doorkeeper in God's house? My Ego screams, "No!" God, kill my ego, and help me to work hard at being ordinary.

Too Good To Be Made Up

2011-06-16T05:28:00.000-07:00

Recently, I've been reading and watching material on the clandestine activities around and after World War II, specifically A Man Called Intrepid and The Trials of J. Robert Oppenheimer. Intrepid was a man named Bill Stephenson, a Canadian airman who, like many involved in covert operations, was omni-talented --a walking treasurehouse of knowledge and intellect who existed in the small and probably-illegal group around Winston Churchill when he was Vice Lord of the Admiralty and then Prime Minister. Oppenheimer was the man behind the bomb who, though no-one could ever prove his disloyalty even after extensive wiretapping and bugging, had early communist associations, and was finally broken when his security clearance was revoked.

Many lessons could be learned from the lives of both men, but the chief lesson I take from both stories is that the truth is often stranger and more interesting than fiction. Fiction always has an artificial ring to it, at least in my ears. I love fiction, but it is not hard to tell that it is fiction, even if there are no fantastic events in the narrative.

Ian Fleming, spy himself and creator of James Bond said of Bill Stephenson, "James Bond is a highly romanticized version of a true spy. The real thing is ... William Stephenson." The events of Stephenson's life, and those of other WWII spies, show us that the truth is stranger than fiction, and more compelling too.

I think about this in regards to the great unfolding story of Scripture --it is simply too good to be made up. It has a lovely internal consistency that spans thousands of years, multiple cultures and authors. It centers on one singular, unique man. Its beginning is the beginning of the world and its end is the end of the world. Its middle is the middle of time --the time from which all other times are dated. It begins with one man and extends to the ends of the earth and ultimately fills the whole cosmos. It describes the world as it is: beautiful and orderly, but horribly broken. It describes us as we are --beings capable of mighty acts of creativity, but horrifically bent towards sin and self --this odd amalgam of great intellect and debased behavior. Oppenheimer himself was a living display of this: an intensely vain and difficult man, a profligate life, an enormous intellect combined with incredible naivete and knowledge that could ultimately end life on the planet. And, it holds out hope --it simply must be true. Humans are creatures imbued with hope --no matter how life is, our default setting is to long for something better. The truth is --something better is out there --a world infinitely better than this: beautiful and not at all broken. And it holds out for us the possibility of being who we were created to be: good, intelligent, lovers of beauty and compassion.

For that to happen, what is broken needs to be fixed. The wrong needs to be judged and destroyed. This happened at the cross, though the fullness of that reality waits the dawning of a new day. I, for one, cannot wait till the wrong in me is finally destroyed, and the wrong in the world is, too.

You Like Me, You Really Like Me....Or Do You?

2011-06-10T13:09:00.000-07:00

One of my friends and mentors suggested that the title was hardly scintillating, so I thought i'd give it another go....

I've been thinking about this lately, an observable phenomenon that helps us understand the ability of churches (or any conglomeration of hominids) to incorporate individuals, and bring them in to the circle of love.

I am talking about churches, but the principles really apply across the board to groups of human kinship, and can just as easily apply to circles of friends. This is theoretical, but I hope not boring.

Jesus tells us "do unto others as you would have them do unto you." The Golden Rule. Simple? yes. Difficult? yes. Let's see how.

A group may perceive itself to be friendly and welcoming, but the members of any group are in the worst position to evaluate themselves. The real judge of inclusion is the outsider who is coming in to the group. Sometimes, we set a relatively low bar for ourselves --as long as we allow someone in, we are fulfilling the law of love.

Many churches are very good at welcoming visitors, speaking with various levels of acceptance to newcomers --from at least acknowledging their existence (sadly lacking in many churches) to genuine and sincere questions about the visitor himself (better than simple acknowledgement).

The real test comes in inclusion. Many churches miss this. Inclusion goes beyond simple and even sincere interest. It involves relational depth, by which I mean something quite different than what is often meant in our age in which catharsis is practically elevated to an element of worship. Many churches see themselves as inclusive communities because they sincerely care about those who come in. This is a necessary thing, of course, but it isn't true community.

The inner sanctum of relational depth involves far more. Many churches sincerely want new people, and sincerely welcome them, but find new members drifting away after short periods of time. This can even be seen among various teams and groups within a church --always on the hunt for new blood. New members come in for a time, then fade out.

Many reasons for this, of course. One of the chief reasons I observe is investment. If a group shows itself, either by hostility or simple neglect, to be hostile to the contributions, ideas and thoughts of a new member, that member will quickly grow discouraged and leave. He senses that his acceptance is conditional upon his conforming to established ways of thinking and doing. Now, some of this is required in order to belong to a group. There has to be some sense of identity and his ideas have to be somewhat congruent with the group. The Founding Fathers should not have listened to a Communist (okay, I know, totally mixing my historic periods but I'm tired and sitting in the airport) merely because his ideas were new. He needs to go along a bit, to build some credibility. At the same time, he needs to be let in. Perhaps the Lord is using the new blood to bring in some new ideas, and try some new ways. This can be threatening to the existing power structure, even though their opposition is largely subconscious --simple resistance to the new.

Persons and their ideas are not easily separable. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Wouldn't you want your ideas heard? Wouldn't you want to contribute? If you were encouraged to participate in something new, and were trying to find your footing, would you not want to be valued and accepted?

Value leads to investment, investment leads to security. If we are valued, we invest in a community. If we invest in a community, our joy grows there. If we want our churches to be happy places of kingdom service --true families-- we need to work towards full inclusion of outsiders, and work very hard against being friendly, but ultimately closed, clubs. Cliques, you are officially on notice.

The second random thought is this: inclusion in a group means being given the benefit of the doubt, not being viewed with suspicion. It means that, when you fail and put your foot in your mouth, it's not really noticed because there is underlying love for you as a person. We often think we are inclusive, but we have made full inclusion contingent upon a person's acting and speaking in a particular way --embracing certain perspectives and avoiding others. We have a built in subconscious radar for this sort of thing. People sense very quickly whether or not they truly belong, or whether the "love" they are offered is conditioned on them meeting certain preconditions. When they mess up, or when they say something impolitic, is grace extended, understanding and acceptance, or are they jumped on with both feet.

When you are not given the benefit of the doubt, when you are judged, and when your words are used against you as some estimation of what is true in your heart, you become alienated, and you begin to look for groups where you might fit better.

This is most painful to observe in the church, and very painful to experience yourself, trust me. We all want to fit --most of us are still teenagers at heart, feeling the pain of rejection acutely whether or not we give voice to it. I find it is a reason many churches, even those who attract a visitor stream, fail to grow --we don't easily open the circle of our community, our entrenched identity and values are too fragile. We are sinful, prideful, and insecure. Me included. Lord help me not to be guilty of that which I so clearly see in others.

Grace, Faith, Works, Boast, unto Good Works....

2011-05-31T06:28:00.000-07:00

The Reformed churches, it seems, always have some sort of debate raging. The current debate, though it has many other features, largely concerns the place of obedience (or "works") in the Christian life. On one side, some are advocating that the believer's works are somehow included in their justification, not as fruit, but as grounds. This is legalism and needs to be expunged. Ephesians 2:8-9 says "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God, not of works, lest any man should boast."

Yet, as often happens, a response and overreaction by incautious pastors and professors arises on the other side, decrying any place for evangelical obedience in the Christian life. The commands of Scripture are disingenuous --they are only designed to show us that we cannot keep them. Application in preaching or any call to the Christian that he "ought, must, or should" is seen to be legalism. The only answer to any question in Scripture can only be "Jesus has done it all."

Now, we must admit from the first that this is a legitimate use of the commands of the Scripture. The Law is designed to show us our inability to keep it, convict us of sin, and cause us to look outside ourselves for our salvation, and to turn to Christ in faith, disabused of any foolish notion that we can contribute anything to our righteousness before God. This is the first use of the Law.

Yet, this fails to reckon with Ephesians 2:10. Indeed, it seems to me that both extremes of this debate avoid that verse. Both sides miss that the selfsame works that fail us in justification are the works that God expects of those he has regenerated. The New Perspective / Federal Vision side of the debate says the works that Paul eschews there are the ancient covenant boundary markers such as circumcision. We are saved by faith apart from boundary markers, but not apart from "Thou shalt not commit adultery," which is very much a part of our righteousness, they will say. This, of course, is denied us by the context. Paul uses the same word "works" to describe the same things that cannot save, but which are expected of those already saved.

You can see this by simply substituting the word "circumcision" for works. "It is by grace you have been saved, through faith...and that not of circumcision, lest any man should boast." Now, that is a true point, and the Jews probably needed to hear it --Galatians addresses such things. Yet, it is in 2:10 where the argument breaks down, "For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus, unto circumcision, which God ordained beforehand that we should walk in them." It simply doesn't wash.

The other side (we'll call it anti-nomian, or "anti-law") says works play no place in our lives as Christians. To say they do is to deny the gospel. Some will go so far as to say that preachers who preach commands or imperatives (oughts, musts, shoulds) are legalists and denying the gospel or not preaching grace. This is most grievous to the preacher, and I have counseled dear friends who have faced this charge, and I have faced it myself on occasion. Yet, again this fails the Ephesians 2:10 test. Paul's point is, and I repeat myself, that the same works that can never justify very much are expected of us as Christians. This does not mean we never sin, never fail, never make bad choices, never go headlong into sins and addictions with a high hand --certainly we do. It does not mean that even our best acts are not stained by sin and self --of course they are.

The truth is far more encouraging, and it is simply this: God accepts our imperfect obedience, merely by his grace, as a thank offering, well-pleasing in his sight. What freedom is found in those words. My works please my father. What could be better news than that? They don't make me right with him, they don't earn me his love. They are, rather, the product of the love that he has shed abroad in my heart.

A Singular Anonymous Letter

2011-05-04T11:19:00.000-07:00

John R. de Witt, former pastor of several large churches, is my friend and mentor in the ministry. Recently, he spoke at RTS Charlotte on the accrued wisdom of 50 years in the pastorate. He related an anonymous letter which caused him to reflect upon how he preached. I found it very helpful, and thought it would be helpful both to preachers and laypeople in understanding the challenge and task of the church:

I came to your church sun and brought a young couple with me who are struggling with living a Christian life and are being pulled by the world with drugs, sex and alcohol. Many of the young people you preach to on Sunday morning are sleeping together on Friday and Saturday nights in a drugged, drunken stupor. They don’t really want to live like that but are pressured from all directions and are seeking some alternatives. What an awesome responsibility the church has to reach and develop these intelligent well educated young people. If you and your wife had been this young couple, what would you have taken home with you that would help you to face the world they have to live in this week?

You live in a sheltered world. They’re coming in there Sunday morning crying out for help –if the church doesn’t help them who will? What you said was doctrinally correct: repetitious, but cold. They need to know that God is real and that he is alive and wants to live in them that he is far greater and more caring than any earthly father could ever be, that he hears them and will comfort when their little world is falling apart –that they don’t have to turn to the crutches this world offers them but that Jesus is always there with his big loving arms open ready to love them and listen to their problems –that they can cast their cares on him for he really cares.

There are some young people who listen to you every Sunday who have considered suicide: they’re not getting answers. I’ve worked with them for thirty years. When they learn who they are as God’s child, and as a joint heir with Jesus entitled to all he is and has, that he can supply their every need then he becomes real and they depend on him instead of some psychiatrist that is in worse shape than they are. Second Presbyterian Church draws the young people who will be leaders in this city. Most of them are not getting any help at home. Their homes are broken by the same problems they have. I believe you are the man God has put there. Don’t let them go away with some cold doctrinal truths each Sunday –you will gradually lose them. I agree they need this. But first they need his love guidance and acceptance –they need some answers.

Pondering Severe Mercies

2011-04-28T06:47:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was a day to note. After a delightful several hours interviewing prospective communicant young people, fellowshipping over a meal with the church, and going to our little prayer meeting, I stopped in my office for just a moment before I went home.

As I too often do, I checked Facebook. Two sad items greeted me. The first was the monster tornado that devastated Tuscaloosa. We lived south of Tuscaloosa for 3 years, and spent much happy time there. Sadly, it seems prone to devastating tornadoes --we lived through one the Saturday before Christmas. This one hit the very busy shopping district that straddles I-20/59, and stretches up around the University area. We pray all those we know and love are safe. This was just one of the record number of tornadoes in yesterday's outbreak.

Then, I saw that David Wilkerson, of The Cross and the Switchblade, founder of Times Square Church and Teen Challenge, was killed in a car accident and that his wife is in critical condition. Wilkerson was an incredible man albeit an exotic prophet --he picked up Life magazine one evening, and saw five boys charged with murdering another boy. He began driving from his rural Pennsylvania pastorate into the rough neighborhoods of NYC. He slept in his car. He put his life in danger. He bought an old house, and started a ministry of working troubled youth all day, and praying with them all night. Countless lives have been saved from temporal and eternal destruction because of his obedience to God's call. Now God called him home.

What a world. So beautiful and so broken. So uncertain. No rock but Jesus. So easy to say that when times are easy. Sometimes, though, it is like clinging with your fingernails while the flood tries to carry you away.

Any answers would be pat answers. There are no "answers" per se, at least not any that makes news like this easier to take. The only answer, ultimately, is Maranatha. And one day he will honor that cry, and fix all this stuff.

In Which He Tries to Talk about Pop Culture Without Mentioning Johnny Cash

2011-03-29T06:49:00.000-07:00

Except in the header, of course.

File this under "common grace." No theology here.

My contention is simple: what happens in high culture eventually filters down into folk culture.

Folk culture is a valuable thing. It is reflective of real life, and dictated by the democratic forces of what people actually like and consume. Through much of human history, folk culture celebrated, highlighted and explained the joys and sorrows of life in an uncertain world. Folk culture provides us with many artifacts that aid us in understanding people --we might call these "art".

For purposes of discussion, here's a simple definition of art: art is something that either celebrates beauty for its own sake (like a Beethoven Symphony) or has something important to say about life (like The Diary of Anne Frank).

Both Jacques Barzun and Nancy Pearcey have used art (among other things) to trace the declension of the culture of the Western World. I want to take their thoughts a bit further. Barzun starts with the Renaissance and ends in the decadence among the thinking classes of the West (much lamented in Paul Johnson's Intellectuals, as well). What he says is certainly true, but very few people, myself included, are out there reading Derrida or Foucault or James Joyce.

Ideas do have consequences, though, and what happens among the chattering classes filters down to where we live. High art in the mid twentieth century showed the moral devastation wrought by existentialism and nihilism: unwatchable plays, un-listenable atonalism in music, unreadable novels and art that celebrated the meaningless, random and inconsequential. If you enjoy any of the finer things, scan your shelves and see how much you have among your cd collections by Philip Glass or Arnold Schonberg. If you had to take a music appreciation class in college, you probably had the misfortune of hearing atonal music. By any standard, it is not beautiful or meaningful. Indeed, it was intended to be just the opposite. This sad course was followed by many among the artistic classes, be it in visual arts, literature, and so on.

At the same time, folk culture was morphing into popular culture. Early on in this transition, pop culture took what was good in the folk culture, elevated it and made it accessible to the masses. I would argue pop culture began about the time of the mass production of the phonograph and exploded with the advent of radio --ordinary people could have, in their homes, enjoyable and engaging folk art produced by others on a scale never before realized. Motion pictures brought drama before audiences that may never have seen such before.

The early efforts have their own particular beauty (think Chaplin), but quality only improved with techonology. The restraints of censorship (as silly as some of it was) actually seemed to serve the purpose of developing art, since what was base and low brow had to be avoided.

Lucille Ball and Dick Van Dyke, among others, were able to elevate the old physical comedy of the Vaudeville circuit and put it into American living rooms. It was a celebration both of meaning (the value of family and laughter) and beauty and poignance. Playhouse 90, The Waltons and Little House on the Prairie were simple, elegant popularization of drama for household audiences. Again, they meant something, and were often profound.

Norman Lear elevated the sitcom to moral art form. We may not like or agree with much of what he said, but in terms of sheer artistry, using humor to disarm and critique through such figures as Archie Bunker and George Jefferson. George Jefferson was a work of pure genius --he was no caricature, and not an entirely sympathetic character. Yet, he was a black man who made it, while his bigoted white neighbor stayed lower middle class. Lear had no saccharine, and few made the points as made as well as he made them.

Music, too, went through similar iterations. There has, of course, always been the product of the marketing machine. One wonders what the attractions of Connie Stevens ever was, for instance, beyond marketable beauty. Yet, alongside that were artifacts of real meaning and real beauty. This remained true in popular music through the 70's. A few examples:

The ink is black, the page is white, together we learn to read and write...and now a child can understand that this is the law of all the land --Three Dog Night

Down in the Delta where I was born, all we raised was cotton, potatoes and corn. Pickin that cotton till our fingers hurt, draggin' that sack through that Delta dirt. --Charley Pride

Even the negative experiences of life are art form, because they bespeak stark reality:

I'd smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playing with a can that he was kicking.
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.

On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.

Alright, so I broke my Johnny Cash vow, though the lyrics, like so many other meaningful ones, were written by Kris Kristofferson. Or consider these by Jim Steinman's "Paradise By The Dashboard Light," one of the best rock songs ever written, about the misery induced by promiscuity....

(The girl stops the advances of the boy):

Stop right there!I gotta know right now! Before we go any further!
Do you love me? Will you love me forever? Do you need me?
Will you never leave me? Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?
Will you take me away and will you make me your wife?

The boy responds:

Let me sleep on it....I'll give you an answer in the morning.

She demurs, and he advances:

I couldn't take it any longer Lord I was crazed
And when the feeling came upon me Like a tidal wave
I started swearing to my god and on my mother's grave
That I would love you to the end of time
I swore that I would love you to the end of time!

So now I'm praying for the end of time
To hurry up and arrive...praying for the end of time so I can end my time with you.

It was long ago and it was far away, and it was so much better than it is today.

More examples could be multiplied. The question is not whether pop culture used to produce forgettable junk. It always has. The question is rather whether it is producing anything of lasting value now. I contend that it is not. There is little profundity left in pop culture --not in television, not in popular music regardless of genre. There is, thankfully, a bit left in the movies, which lend themselves better to saying profound things. Movies like The King's Speech prove the point --there is still an audience for good stuff. Yet, the purveyors of pop culture, who produce via focus group and the lowest common denominator, do not seem much interested in profundity and beauty even when they sell. The reason why is: existentialism and nihilism are the cultural currency. Nobody listens to Schonberg, but millions will listen to Katy Perry. And, that is a crying shame.

Christians ought to see this vacuum as a great opportunity to advance. Our God does all things well. He speaks profound things about himself and all his creation. He celebrates beauty for its own sake, and so should we. We should engage in arts high and folk, and encourage and celebrate those who do. To the existential despair of much of art (which is a crying out for God), we can present the very God who alone gives meaning, purpose and moral beauty.

Another "Me" Generation in the Church, or Why Don Miller Thinks You Care What He Ate For Breakfast Eight Years Ago....

2011-03-22T07:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, I confess that I liked Don Miller's Blue Like Jazz. Currently, I am enjoying my colleague Jim Belcher's book Deep Church. Both of them could be broadly classed as the concerns of "emerging" Christianity (though not "Emergent" Christianity, an important distinction for those who are paying attention). I resonate with many of their concerns, and I agree with Jim Belcher that the Emergings are asking many of the right questions, particularly about the church as real community, against the modernistic assumptions of the "church growth" movement of the 70's-90's, and about concern for ministry to the poor contra the consumerism and materialism that have been baptized too often by the church. Belcher's use of Lewis's image of "deep church," I find very helpful, and a more generous orthodoxy than the counterfeit of it offered by Emergent gurus Rob Bell and Brian Maclaren.

My concern is somewhat tangential to the books themselves, and it is a concern because I see it in myself and others, and that is this --much of emerging Christianity seems obsessively concerned with self. Blue Like Jazz is a personal narrative of a journey of faith. I resonated with it, but I was left thinking, "There has to be something more than this." Deep Church is a picture of what the authentic church can be, but it is filled with extended personal narratives. Now, personal illustration is helpful --it can humanize what we are teaching, and put us in the pew as a fellow-struggler. Destructively, it can become "I am so deep. Be like me." Shades of the Colossian problem.

From my own experiences in the miry clay, I can say that, when I have felt bereft of God's presence, I have turned for help and solace to more subjective, heart-oriented writers like Tozer. From my vantage point now, though I love Tozer, I see the seductive danger of some of what he says --a questing for deep personal experience. The truth is --when I am trapped in the bottom of the wet well, I don't need to drive myself deeper into self-analysis, I need my eyes lifted up to see the great objective realities of the Christian faith. The fact that justification is something accomplished in real space and time, apart from me, means it is independent from how I feel about it. There is great security in that --the same security a child feels when he is at odds with his parent. Deep down, he knows his dad is still his dad, even though he is being punished. He knows that love is unconditional and irrevocable. The manger, the cross, the empty tomb, and my own justification are outside of myself, and they lift me out of myself.

There is always a tension between the objective realities of the Christian faith and my subjective appropriation of those realities. There is dead orthodoxy. There are those who presume upon the promises, and have no heart reality. Many who believe the facts will be lost at the last. Ryle was right and Tozer was right and Lloyd-Jones was right and Piper is right. One can fall off on both sides. The caution here is to get outside of ourselves and our own experiences. If we are bereft of joy and the light of God's face, the answer is not introspection. The answer is extro-spection --gazing upon the glories of all God has done for us in Christ. The answer is not doing more with Martha, but listening more with Mary. The answer is not shame over what we are leaving undone, but rejoicing in what God has done. The clouds will lift, comfort will come, and kingdom productivity will follow.

Things I Want to Blog About When I Find the Time

2011-03-08T06:38:00.000-08:00

1.) The spiritually abusive church. Why is it some pastors respond to criticism with abuse? What about the passive-aggressive pastor? What does this say about the church, as a whole? How do we recognize its signs? How do we respond in such situations? What do we do for its victims?

2.) America's great contribution to the world was meaningful folk (or pop) culture. American culture stopped producing meaningful artifacts about the time that Johnny Cash died. Why? How did we go from Sinatra, Cash and Norman Lear to Katy Perry, Lady Gaga and Two and Half Men? I contend that it is because what happened in high art about 1950 (dada-ism, Jackson Pollock, Schoenberg and Brecht, etc) has now filtered down into folk art --meaninglessness.

3.) Why all the talk about Hell all of a sudden? Why does Rob Bell raise questions and never answer them? Where does he buy those hip glasses?

4.) Depression. Massive topic, needs some more Christian light shed on it, I think.

Thoughts? Other things you might like to see addressed?

Tim Keller and the Power of the Gospels

2011-02-28T06:55:00.000-08:00

In this context, not the gospel, but the gospels.

For whatever reason, when I first began life as a solo pastor and had to pick my own Biblical books through which to preach, I have majored on the gospels.

Carl Robbins, a fellow PCA pastor in SC, did an informal but pretty thorough study and determined the gospels, of all things, were neglected in our preaching. One of the dangers of lectio continua preaching (preaching through whole books) is that a church might spend ten years in Ezekiel and never once encounter Jesus in the gospels.

Tim Keller was here Thursday night. I am glad I got to go. It reminded me of why I do what I do --try to introduce people to Jesus in all his awesome power. Many people are shocked when they are forced to ponder what Jesus actually said. I remember myself that experience in reading through Martyn Lloyd-Jones on the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus says incredibly offensive things, even as he extends his hand in compassion and love to all who will come to him. There is no other historical figure anything like him. He simply could not be "made up." No fictional character has ever proven to be as compelling.

One of Tim's points that stuck with me was just this:

Throughout history, many people have claimed to be God.

Throughout history, many people have poured their lives out in love and compassion for others.

Never, other than Jesus, have those two things coexisted in the same person.

Beautiful. I look forward to hearing Tim at General Assembly, and, DV, in NYC over Labor Day!

The Cultural Captivity of the Church

2011-02-22T07:07:00.000-08:00

With the ever-provocative Professor Anthony Bradley, I think the Presbyterian Church in America has a whole lot to learn from a man named Soong-Chan Rah. His book The Next Evangelicalism is a provocative read.

He challenges the whole cultural and racial assumption behind the church growth model. He quotes Bob Linthicum's book City of God, City of Satan..

I know of no instrument [church attendance statistics] that creates more guilt and sense of failure in my denomination than this instrument. That is because it favors any church located in a community of rapid growth and radically disfavors any church in a decaying, declining comunity. The first kind of community is found mostly in suburban areas of the United States, while the second is found primarily in inner cities.

Let's be honest. Suburban churches grow off the backs of city churches. To date, I have only received one phone call from any suburban pastor (who also happens to be a very dear friend) inquiring why someone might consider moving from our city congregation to his suburban one. One phone call. Many of the people who move from city church to suburban church have serious pastoral issues that ought to be addressed. The onus is not on me to make those things known, I don't think, but on the pastors who so gladly receive them into their flocks on a simple exchange of paper. But, hey, they are an addition to the membership rolls, and that is the extent of pastoral concern, apparently.

Why don't we start working for kingdom growth instead of church growth? The cities, tough places though they are, are the places where this can happen. There are a lot of lost people in the city, a lot of heartache, tons of need. It is there in the suburbs, too, but I am not so sure PCA churches are reaching them. It is, after all, very easy to catch fish when they are jumping.

God calls us to move away from comfort and towards pain. I need to keep telling myself that.

An Excerpt, with Commentary

2011-02-16T11:47:00.000-08:00

A Sermon about Sermons that Get Preachers into Trouble, which Got Its Preacher into Trouble.

No, not me, but it certainly got me thinking. This is excerpted from a sermon included in the fascinating book (long out of print) Agony at Galloway. If you are from Jackson, you will know that Galloway is the title of the large, socially-prominent United Methodist church in the center of our fair city. You may know too that, perhaps more than any other, Galloway tore itself apart during the Civil Rights Era. Her long-time minister, the legendary Dr. W. B. Selah, resigned his 18 year pastorate. Why? Because Galloway, like white churches throughout the South, decided to station guards at its doors to bar African-Americans from coming to worship.

His successor, W. Jeff Cunningham, wrote the book, and sacrificed his career, like many of his fellow Methodists, during that sad time.

I note from the top this is not an evangelical sermon. It doesn't have a whiff of evangel about it. It is not, in that way, the sort of sermon we should preach. Sad to say, in Cunningham's day, evangelicals were on the wrong side of this issue. It is, however, a heroic sermon about sermons, and thus merits our excerpting:

If We Sound No Trumpet: A Sermon Preached in the Crisis

Eze. 33:1-7

To look at these words in their historic setting, Ezekiel is in Babylon along with the flower of the Jewish people, carried there into exile by a military conqueror who had crushed his country and would leave Jerusalem the haunt of jackals...Here the Jewish people are surrounded by the allurements of the magnificent civilization that is Babylon, the world's capital, a pagan culture made glorious by everything wealth and military power can bestow....With all the freedom to come and go as they please, they are expected to become absorbed in the culture of Babylon, to forget the ideals of their own race and religion, to join in the worship of the gods of Babylon, and to increase the prosperity of the realm. The strong temptation every Jew feels in Babylon is to go native. And some go native with a vengeance. They forget their own country, they forsake their former faith and loyalties and lose themselves in the exotic culture of this luxurious land.

It was in this critical time that Ezekiel spoke the word of God and became one of the towering figures of all time...With the nation facing the threat of moral decline, the Lord says a watchman will be set up..."if this watchman sees danger coming and blows the trumpet and warns the people; then if any one hears the trumpet, but will not heed the warning, when he is destroyed, his blood shall be on his own head..."But if the watchman sees danger coming, and does not blow the trumpet, so that no warning is given, and the danger comes and destroys, then, says the Lord, "his blood I shall require at the watchman's hand."

Now if we take these words out of their setting in ancient Babylon, they have meaning that walks right up to the doorsill of our own consciences here in Jackson..He commands us to blow the trumpet and warn the people when there is danger.

One thing that makes this particularly important to consider this morning is the charge that the church ought to stay out of politics. "The church ought to stay out of economic and social questions," it is said. "The church has no business making pronouncements on this temporal matter or that."

But listen. The church cannot stay out of anything God wants in on. And God wants in on everything that concerns people --their moral habits, their social customs, their business practices, their handicaps, their day-by-day relationships...God has an absorbing concern for everything that affects the lives of people, whether it is politics or business or sport or education or any other human enterprise. And the church must be concerned with anything that concerns God.

Those who say the church ought to stay out of politics do not know their Bible, or have forgotten it...Amos is a collection of sermons by that fiery man who spoke for God to the people about the things they were doing. He was critical of the government. He talked about people who got drunk. he talked about social climbers. He talked about merchants who were dishonest in their business, using false scales in their buying and selling. He talked about people who lived in luxury while others around them were hungry. All this didn't go over very well.

The people glorified their religion in ornate observances. The priests wore gorgeous robes, the choir sang lovely anthems, and their altars were laden with choice offerings. But they did not want their religions questioned at the point of its moral quality. They did not like to be told of the relationship between religion and their daily practices in politics and business and society...They said to him, "Prophesy to us of pleasant things"...Men inveterately like to hear smooth things said to them, how right their attitudes are, how genteel their inherited traditions are; and if all this can be said in the name of God, so much the better...

When someone says preachers ought to stick to the Bible that's exactly what most preacher, I believe, want to do; but when they stick to the Bible, see what they find. They find prophets majoring in politics and measuring every exercise in government by the will of God....In the Bible we see a long line of prophets standing before kings and denouncing their policies because those policies were not righteous...These are men who sounded a trumpet, warning of danger, critical of monarchs for their unrighteousness in the affairs of state, and demanding that they order their affairs in line with God's purpose.

[relating a story of a minister in another city, supported by his board when under fire] "We stand for a free pulpit in a free church. We do not expect or desire a minister simply to echo the opinions of the congregation..." When we claim to be a church, a trumpet is placed in our hands. We are to sound this trumpet to warn the people when we see danger --and by danger is meant anything in our attitudes and practices which Christ cannot approve. If they do not heed the trumpet and die, their blood is on them. But if we see the danger and sound no trumpet and they die, then their blood is upon us...

...The church is not supposed to echo the opinions of the status quo. The church is supposed to stand above the status quo to challenge it, to hold before it a standard, to demand that every order of society conform to the ideas in the Sermon on the Mount. We are not supposed as Christians to bring in ideas from the outside and try to make the church conform to the ideas we have brought in from the outside; we are supposed to take the ideas of the Sermon on the Mount out of the church and into the organizations we belong to and measure those organizations by the way they obey Jesus' moral demands.

The preacher in the pulpit is not supposed to reflect the majority opinions in the pew and no good layman expects him to --he is supposed to hear the voice of God and make that voice heard in all the affairs of men whether it makes them comfortable and contented or not....

We Christians are not supposed to make religion over into what we want it to be until it fits our lives. We are supposed to change these lives of ours until they fit into Christ's way of love and service which He lived so beautifully and so simply.

...Some have said the church ought to stay out of controversial fields. But the church that never handles controversy never handles Christ. If the church tries to keep her hands clean, she will stand before the Lord with her hands empty. Id the church never expresses a conviction except where a unanimous vote has already been given, the church will never have a word for needy and dying men. If the church chooses her words so carefully that no one can object, she has missed the spirit of the prophets who were stoned because they spoke so clearly for God and the spirit of Jesus, whose truth led him to a cross.

I can hear objection to what I am saying, that in all this I am overlooking the gospel of personal religion, that religion is an affair between the individual soul and God...It is the root of religion, but it is just that..it is not the fruit. The fruit is seen in the way we practice our religion out in the world where we live....

The end of the sermon. Jeff Cunningham lost his job over this sermon. As he was leaving, Galloway rescinded its all-white policy, and opened its doors. He was sacrificed and the truth triumphed. Would that ministers today would be so bold.

Will Someone Shut that Man Up? Nevah! : Why Is Style More Offensive than Content?

2011-02-15T12:49:00.001-08:00

One of my favorite scenes of all time from the campy, cheesy and sometimes profound old musical 1776.

Many of my readers know that our denomination has been, for six or more years, embroiled in a debate over what has come to be called "The Federal Vision." Recently, the Missouri Presbytery dismissed allegations against one of its members, Jeffrey Meyers, on grounds that he holds this body of doctrines.

One of the matters the committee did address with Pastor Meyers was the manner in which he expressed his opinions, prompting him to write a letter of apology. I am not writing to critique Pastor Meyers's apology. I grant him the benefit of the doubt that it is perfectly sincere. Yet, I hasten to add I think it is an odd thing in our current day that we take issue more with how things are said, than the content of what is said.

Jeff Meyers states his opinions strongly. You can find them in many places all over the internet, chronicled by friend and foe alike. I don't Jeff at all for how he says what he says. IF he believes things strongly, he ought to state them strongly.

I, unlike the committee, however, take strong exception to the content of what he says, some of which you can find over at Johannes Weslianus.

Our age would have little patience for a Luther, a Churchill, or a John Adams. Frankly, I think we could use a little fire in our bellies, and a bit thicker skins. I am quite tired of people having to offer profuse apologies for having strong convictions and stating them strongly. For the life of me I don't see how strong convictions and love are incompatible. Paul called upon Judaizers to "go all the way and emasculate themselves." I wonder if his presbytery asked him to apologize for that? We seem to prefer the easy moderation of the waffling New York delegation to the 2nd Continental Congress and the limp-wristed Stanley Baldwin who would rather be liked than victorious, to the firm conviction of difficult, but heroic men.

This shows in so much preaching, which is hardly bold. It shows in our church courts, where we confuse niceness with love. We ought to be loving and courteous. We ought not to slander persons. Yet, give me a man who, wrong as he might be, deals in firm conviction. Him I can respect. I need no apology from anyone because they stated their opinions too firmly.

Gossip

2011-02-15T08:44:00.000-08:00

Gossip is relating news, true or false, about another person, with an implied or stated judgment about the person's character.

This is one of the most powerful scenes in cinema, from the movie Doubt. Watch it. If you've gossiped, consider repenting to the person against whom you've gossiped.

What answer would you give?

2011-02-07T11:28:00.001-08:00

When Empathy Isn't Enough

Coming to Terms with a "Bad" Demographic Hand

2011-02-07T09:04:00.000-08:00

We are an almost-all white church in the midst of a predominantly African-American City, in the weird position of being "Majority-Minorities" --18% in fact, by recently released census data. Jackson is 80% African-American, and I am as white as God made white folk. Our worship is as white, vanilla Presbyterian as one might expect from a fifty year old mostly-white congregation.

18% and not headed towards 19%, if you get my drift.

I am at two distinct disadvantages on the topic of race. First, it is really hard to be white and talk about race. Second, it is really hard to be Northern and talk about race in the Deep South.

Let me say from the first, from my white Yankee vantage point, racism in any meaningful sense is not an issue among our church. Trinity has been integrated in the past, and we have a few African-American members and visitors, and they have told me again and again how loved and accepted they have been by the congregation. One of them says, over and over again, "These people are my family." Another says, over and over, "I feel so loved at Trinity." These things warm the cockles of this pastor's heart.

The census data do not show, however, a larger troubling trend. It is not just that whites have largely left Jackson. African-American families that have the means to leave, are leaving too, to Rankin County, by and large, where schools are good and streets are safe. It's not wrong to want those things.

Our suburban congregations are burgeoning. First Presbyterian, the mother church of local Presbyterianism, remains several-thousand strong, with excellent preaching and teaching. A few of us are caught in between First Church and suburbia. Demographers would call this an undesirable thing. Praise God that Jesus is not a demographer.

Humanly speaking, we are at what demographers would call a "disadvantage." A white church in a black city. A wealthy church surrounded by poverty. An educated church in an area blighted by educational breakdown.

We are here by God's grace, and his plan. It would be an easy thing not to be here. Yet, as Piper says, God calls the Christian to move away from comfort and towards pain. But, I'm tired today, and I don't really want to move towards the pain all the time.

It is not always easy to see what this looks like. What does it require of us? Placing our children in failing schools? It is hard to see how that would be a good thing. We can work for a brighter day when people could live in the city and be involved in the schools in an incarnational way, but I just don't see it happening in the current mass bureaucracy of the Public Schools. We need parochial schools or charter schools or something that would serve as an option for parents of whatever income level who desire something better for their kids.

So, what do we do?

First, we are here, so we minister here. This may mean no growth, and even further diminishing. Some people will continue to move where life is (supposedly) easier. Churches in neater communities, closer to home, where community life is perceived to be easier. God bless them. I, for one, am glad to be part of a church where the homeless have been welcomed with open arms. I wish that had continued, and hope maybe God will bring us some again.

Second, many of us suburbanites will continue to feel guilty for living at some remove from the issues of Jackson. I do. If I didn't have kids, I would be in this city. Yet, our guilt should not stop us from caring for the city. As the city goes, so goes the metro.

Third, we can change what we do, but not who we are, at root. Churches have a DNA. Moreover, we have convictions about why we do what we do. We can change our approach to the outside world (and approach it more) but must never think that better music, downplaying convictions, or any sort of selling out will bring about real kingdom growth.

Fourth, we strive to show tangible acts of love and mercy in the name of Christ. We do not have the luxury of withdrawing in our walls. We need to be proactive in this city. We need to reach out to those who are lost, no matter how different we perceive them to be, or they perceive us to be. We must do this, not as superiors out of noblesse oblige but rather as ontological equals who have internalized Ephesians 2, "We are no better..." We are beggars telling where we have found bread.

Fifth, we must pray that God would flourish us as his kingdom is to flourish. No, scratch that. First, we must pray. First, we must pray. Ask and ye shall receive. Are you asking God to build his kingdom in this difficult place? God is glorified in doing impossible things. Let's ask him to do the hard thing through us here.

The Christian, Manly Discourse and the Democratization of Information

2011-02-02T13:32:00.000-08:00

"Your answer is now required Marcion, murderer of the truth...you utter scoundrel, who pronounce 'innocent' the assassins of God..." Tertullian @ Nicea

"O Praxeus, you heretic who has crucified the Father and driven away the Holy Spirit." Tertullian, Against Praxeus

A friend tells me that Duke University singled out the PCA for egregious offense in the internet civility department. I wish I could argue with that, but...

I find this article on civility and passion, from the other side of the politico-religious aisle, very interesting.

Here are a few scattered thoughts...

Quite frankly, I think we are living in a wimpish age. Instead of asserting ourselves strongly, and, when necessary, defending ourselves strongly, we duck and run for cover. Our fathers faced the flames singing, we wince and wail when our precious feelings get hurt. There's a lesson about American self-absorption in there somewhere.

We confuse persons and positions. Someone criticizes my positions or my words, and I take personal offense. This kills public discourse and makes correction impossible.

I am for free, full and vigorous discourse. I don't much like the Ninth Commandment flung around as a way of quashing dissension and debate. If someone mis-characterizes my position, I shouldn't cry"Foul!", which, after all, convinces nobody. Rather, I should man up and defend my position. That's what Paul did, after all, when he suffered at the hands of Corinthian super-apostles. He did it with sarcasm, too. Horrors! Paul, I wish you were nicer, like Jesus, except that time he called Herod a fox, and the time he took a whip and drove out the moneychangers. But, other than that!!

Niceness is not a Christian virtue; not when truth is at stake.

In the civic sphere, the great cultural gatekeepers do not much like the blogs. Who, after all, appointed these anonymous upstarts, often working for free, to decide what events are newsworthy? Isn't this the territory that belongs to the professionals? The big three information filters? The AP and the NY Times?

The truth is, if you control information, you effect how people think. How can they ponder alternatives they never hear? How can they process events of which they are not made aware? The major media love to decide what is important and what is not. Why do we hear about the wholesome blondes Natalee Holloway and Elizabeth Smart, but not the nameless, faceless minority youth who disappear every day? There are countless cases of gross injustice in our society: why do we hear only of a few, and these over and over, even from (gasp) Fox News? Networks cover the horror of war, but not the triumphs of war or vice-versa.

The good news is that the genie of democratized information will never go back into the bottle. Bloggers are here to stay. I think this is good, but not an unqualified good.

There seems to be a growing concern about the use of blogging within our own denominational context. This is worrisome to me.

A few random thoughts.

1.) If we are going to have free speech, we must put up with irresponsible speech. Much of what is said on the Internet is unfair, inaccurate and uncharitable. This is the price that we pay for the free flow of information. The alternative is far worse: if we restrict information, error, misunderstanding and ignorance will grow. Because of inaccuracy, each reader and writer should be careful to check his facts. In the church, we must hold people accountable for their words.

2.) Some, whose statements are singled out for scrutiny and critique, will find such scrutiny uncharitable. They will be right in some cases. In other cases, they will hind behind this defense in order to continue to propagate their errors. In some cases, they will be mad just because some people had the temerity to disagree with them.

3.) Sunlight remains the best disinfectant. The press, in the body politic, must be free to hold the government to account to the people. It is the "Fourth Estate," the ones who shine the hard light of truth on the actions of those in power, to ensure honesty and prevent against self-serving. In the context of the church, public information is crucial to hold pulpit and lectern accountable to pew, and more importantly, to Bible.

4.) Men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil. We, quite naturally, want to hide ourselves. Even when our deeds aren't evil, nobody wants to be critiqued or called out publicly. It is uncomfortable. We feel foolish. Our friends rush to our defense. Ranks close around us. We feel justified in our opinions. Rhetoric increases. Positions that were soft and fluid become hardened with opposition. We have staked our ground, uncertain as it might be, and now ego demands we must defend it.

5.) We must come to distinguish the difference between "You are an idiot" (the saying of which puts us in danger of hellfire), and "your positions are wrong." This is true on both the giving and receiving end. A person critiquing my beliefs or positions is not necessarily calling me an idiot. A person articulating false positions is not necessarily an idiot, either.

6.) Love doesn't demand being squishy in our thinking. Publicly advanced positions and arguments are rightly dealt with in public forum. If I launch a salvo into the public domain, I should expect, not a private phone call trying to work out some interpersonal issue that is really unrelated to the matter at hand. I should, rather, expect a public response. Matthew 18 is not in play, as long as I haven't impugned another's character. As someone once said to me, "If you are provocative, why are you surprised when people are provoked?"

7.) I don't care how virtuous we are, we need some alternate sources holding us accountable. We know ourselves to be good men. Our motives are noble. Our intentions are pure. Our positions are right. Yet, in our heart of hearts, we know we can be self-deceived. Denominations need more than an official news agency. The actions of church courts and the positions of teaching elders need to be known. Our people need to be Berean, holding us accountable to the Word of God. How can they do this, if we propagate what we propagate under the cover of darkness? Error and false teaching flourish if nobody engages in a little truth-telling now and then.

The PCA is not immune from error, false teaching, mistakes or underhanded dealing. History teaches us we ought to expect it. It happened in the apostolic church, and we are certainly no better than they were.

Bloggers are here to stay whether we like them or not. The fault does not lie with them, alone, if what is published is false or uncharitable. Readers are called upon to be discerning, too. The truth triumphs in the open marketplace of ideas. Of what do we have to be afraid?

The Church on a Mission

2011-01-25T07:19:00.000-08:00

Simple and straightforward. Certainly it is possible to critique how "missional" is often done, and certainly room to critique some of what those who coined the term went on to do, but to me what is presented here is simply Biblical...

The Social Network and Transformational Christianity

2011-01-24T06:48:00.001-08:00

First: thanks to one of my parishioners for asking me if I were going to blog about The Social Network. We also need to acknowledge, from the first, that The Social Network is an exaggerated account of the events surrounding the creation of Facebook and its founder Mark Zuckerberg. Yet, we hasten to add, it was not exaggerated enough to elicit any libel suits from Mr. Zuckerberg!

The Social Network is a fascinating study in human nature untethered to any sort of moral obligation, and casting about in the electronic equivalent of the lawless American frontier. Though he becomes the world's youngest billionaire, Zuckerberg is presented as a man unmotivated by money. According to the movie, Facebook has its beginnings in a drunken revenge stunt an obnoxious, eccentric Zuckerberg wreaks on his girlfriend. Utilizing Harvard's existing cyber social network, and using an algorithm developed by his friend Eduardo Savarin, he erects a site where people can compare the "hotness" of girls on campus.

This attracts the attention of Harvard blue blood twins Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss. They had hatched an idea for a social network limited to Harvard, and Zuckerberg agrees to help. Presumably using their idea and funding, Zuckerberg starts out to develop "The Facebook." As is common in such dorm room startups, he appoints his friends, including Savarin, to the key positions in marketing and development.

There is no question that Zuckerberg is an eccentric genius, and he quickly becomes a celebrity at Harvard. The network begins to spread to college campuses across the nation. He meets up with Napster founder and cyber bad boy Sean Parker, and, at his instigation, Zuckerberg relocates the operation to California, where the pool of talent is larger, and hedge fund managers are eager to invest in response to the pair's audacious antics.

At the heart of the story is a gaping moral vacuum. Zuckerberg seems absolutely free of any capacity for empathy. He is unrelentingly cruel to his girlfriend, and appears to have almost an autistic detachment from her. He blatantly lies to the Winklevoss brothers, whose value to him, at least in this telling of the story, eludes the watcher. The saddest thing of all is his deep betrayal of his one loyal friend, Eduardo Savarin, who, at Parker's instigation, he writes out of the company.

Yet, there is an even deeper moral abyss at the heart of the cyber world. Zuckerberg's theory is break things in order to fix them --smart business strategy, indeed. He hosts competitions for hackers to try and take down Facebook. His goal is to be the one site that never crashes. Yet, even here we see the amoral world of the cyber genius. The cyber genius, in this case, is not motivated by success, or rendering a service, or any larger moral good (though we need to note that Zuckerberg himself has either changed in this regard, or is better than he is portrayed in the movie). Sean Parker's goal with Napster was to take down the record industry, even as he protests this will make music better (if that is the case, it hasn't happened yet). We see this in the broader world, as global financial systems and missile defenses are subjected to relentless cyber-attacks, from the relative safety and anonymity of obscure cubicles.

The whole story is told through the eyes of the deposition as both Savarin and the Winklevosses sue him for their rightful share of the Facebook fortune. In this retelling, Zuckerberg remains the genius whose real motives are elusive. He claims not to care about money. He does care very much about reputation. He winds up sacrificing reputation to make money. His motivation for his betrayal of his friend and his early backers remains shrouded in the mystery of his detached character.

All of this has me thinking about how Christians function in relationship to the world. I have the honor of speaking at a conference on this very subject this weekend. There is a rising cry in our circles to remember that we are aliens and strangers in this evil world, and all that exists is destined for fire. I would certainly affirm that the Bible teaches we are pilgrims and aliens here. Yet, and at the same time, this is God's world, and he calls us to think and act as Christians in the broader culture. He brings glory to himself as his people seek to honor him in whatever their hands find to do. Locally, we have a stunning counter-example to Facebook, albeit on a smaller scale. This is the story:

To help pay his college tuition, Joel Bomgar began working as a field network engineer for a Jackson, Mississippi-based systems integrator in 2002. When not in class, he could be found driving around the Jackson area in his 1979 Buick LeSabre providing IT support to local businesses. Often, the non-billable drive time in the air condition-less LeSabre took longer than the actual service calls. It didn't take long for Joel to realize “there had to be a way” to spend less time driving in the Mississippi heat and more time solving his clients' problems.

Unable to find an existing solution that would allow him to access and manage his customers' computers over the internet, Joel decided to take matters into his own hands and develop his own technology.

Although he was still working his way through college, Joel spent many late nights coding and eating pizza to develop a functional remote support solution. Leveraging the solution he quickly doubled the number of customers he could support and cut his rather uncomfortable drive time in half. His new technology was paying off. The instant success led him to believe there might be a market for his creation, so he made up a product brochure, launched a static web site and waited.

Much to his surprise, his wait was short as he quickly began receiving calls and orders for the product. After making $24,000 in less than two months, Joel was convinced he had uncovered a significant market opportunity, but knew he could not capitalize on the opportunity alone. He soon enlisted the assistance of two friends and fellow Resident Assistants from school: Nathan McNeill and Patrick Norman – both of whom he knew were smart, hard working, dedicated problem solvers.

The trio knew little about starting a business but decided that they could, and would, make it work. Joel continued writing code and handling customer calls, Nathan focused on sales and support, leaving Patrick to focus on marketing. In the first six months after they graduated in 2003, these remote support pioneers used 90 lines of code, a one page web site and a simple keyword campaign to grow revenue from $0 to $100,000.

Determination and Innovation Pays-Off

Bomgar's founding trio has since successfully lead the company from a dorm room project to an industry leader. They credit the success to a discipline of focus and a set of core values based in Biblical principles. Bomgar is recognized

by industry analysts, professional associations and industry publications for its award-winning Enterprise Remote Support Solution – a solution which has fundamentally changed how companies around the world deliver remote IT support.

Could there be a deeper contrast between the ways of darkness and the ways of light than the difference between Zuckerberg and Bomgar? The story itself is one repeated countless times in the computer age. What makes it remarkable is the Christian men at the core, determined to live Christianly in a secular age, and in the midst of an industry noted for its moral inhibition.

Bomgar does not discriminate against non-Christians, and operates within the admittedly-restrictive boundaries of pluralistic law. Yet, it is unashamed of stating publicly how its corporate culture and values are shaped by Biblical precepts. You can see those principles here.

It strikes me as exceedingly strange that anyone would argue this is a bad thing. Yet theologues are notorious for taking obtuse and cantankerous positions. I, myself, am grateful for Christians endeavoring to do whatever they do to the glory of God. As Eric Liddell's colleague in Chariots of Fire told him, "It says in the Old Book, him that honoreth me, I will honor." Indeed.

Of Love For the Gospel and a Hatred of Controversy

2011-01-14T06:47:00.000-08:00

The last two posts were out of character for this blog. That is deliberate. I have an aversion to controversy, though I love a spirited debate as much as the next person. I have occasionally loved it too much --true confession time.

Yet, the New Testament tells us that Satan loves to provoke controversy in the church. Far too often, we lay the blame for the controversy at the feet of those who are defending the truth.

I try to pick my battles very selectively. I am not always successful at this. I have occasionally engaged in over-heated rhetoric. Sometimes I have tried to interject levity, and come across as a jerk.

Yet, this particular issue is one worth standing upon. The gospel of free grace must be clearly defined, and heralded forth. Any muddying of the waters, any confusion of law and gospel, any making the grace of God contingent upon something praiseworthy in man, must be called out.

Now, back to our regular programming....

Another Thought on the Federal Vision and the PCA: Despising a Confessional Birthright

2011-01-12T15:34:00.000-08:00

The Presbyterian Church in America is a confessional church. This does not mean that it has created a document it places on par with Scripture, which can never be improved upon or amended, nor does it mean that every minister and elder must submit to every particular of its creed.

It does, however, mean that every minister and elder agrees that the sum and substance of that confession is a faithful and accurate statement of the faith delivered to us in the Word of God.

In the history of the Reformed world, many ministers have found adherence to a confession to be a theological straightjacket. The history of denominations seems to indicate that, with time, confessions themselves become mere relics, without any sort of binding authority.

I can appreciate that some men would not want to be bound by our confession, particularly in the way we have chosen to make it binding. Our denomination is a voluntary association, and such men probably would rightly find a more amenable home in a less conservative denomination, of which there are many.

As it is, ministers in our denomination vow to uphold the Westminster Confession of Faith and its two Catechisms. One might hope that we do this because we love it, and esteem it, not because we deem it perfect in the way Scripture is perfect. I don't think a man has to own every aspect fleshed out in the Westminster Standards, but we do have to subscribe to them as containing the system of doctrine.

In my last post, I highlighted the case of a man who, in the estimation of myself, and at least 28 other PCA pastors, members, and elders, does not do that. The presbytery of which he is a member found differently --they have exonerated the man, and we await the full report. In the meanwhile, the same court, without any sort of process whatsoever, determined that we who signed the letter are all liars. I ask you to judge for yourself.

The aforementioned man, in 2008, publicly stated this:

When will modern Presbyterians admit that this 500-year-old document is no longer sufficient? Man, everybody in conservative Presbyterian circles talks as if Westminster was the high-point, and therefore the end-point of Reformation era creed-writing. But it often strikes me to be exactly the opposite—a sterile document that signaled the end of creative theological reflection in the Reformed churches. And what do we think? This 17th-century scholastic document will be enough for the next 100 years? 500 years? Silly. Just silly.

Notice the language: Not only does he think that our confession is sterile, and signaling the end of creative theological reflection in the Reformed churches.

Now, it did nothing of the kind, of course. There has been all sorts of creative theological expression in Reformed churches, much of it unfaithful to Scripture, but much of it within the bounds of orthodoxy. It is hard to see how any scholar of the history of the Reformed faith could read such a statement without laughing, if he considers for a moment names like Edwards, Warfield, Bavinck and Kuyper.

Yet, that is not the main issue. Let us grant that the Confession is as he says it is: sterile. Let us grant that the document will not be "enough" (enough for what is left unsaid) for the next 100 or 500 years. Let us grant that it is silly of us to think so.

How, then, could this man, in good faith, own this confession? Why, then, does he not find another voluntary association which is more open to theological development than he perceives his own to be? Why, instead, does he continue to say to certain groups of people that he loves the confession and is quite happy laboring under its dictates, and then, in open forums, goes on to deride not only the confession to which he has subscribed, but all who hold it dear?

I have been instructed by his court to treat his words charitably. That is, of course, a judgment call, and an implicit judgment that, in the past, I have not done so. Judge for yourselves. Put the most charitable interpretation on these words that you can. What is your thought?

Highlighting the Differences: What Is the Federal Vision, Any Way?

2011-01-11T06:38:00.001-08:00

I have tried to shy away from theologically controversial issues on this blog, figuring that most readers are unaware of them, and, in the grand scheme of things, many of them are relatively unimportant.

Since I did our December Sunday School on the conflict between historic Christianity and the liberal innovationin the 20th Century, particularly in the Presbyterian Church in the 1920's, several members asked me what I saw as some troubling signs on the horizon for our own conservative, evangelical denomination.

I highlighted three (I think!). Not all are of equal weight, but they are:

An increasing bureaucratization and centralization, which seems to be the way of all flesh in any organization involving human beings. With this comes increasing pressure not to speak against the tribe, as I will highlight in another post, D. V.

A loosening of the old moorings, yet again: the authority of God's Scripture, the immediate creation of Adam and Eve (and the subsequent effects of the Fall in introducing death into God's good world), the denial of the uniqueness of Christ and the possibility of salvation in other religions, etc.

A group of teachings loosely classed as "Federal Vision," namely, (and I shall attempt to demonstrate that this is an accurate understanding), that the believer is saved by his obedient faithfulness, and not by the free grace of God and the all-sufficiency of Christ.

It is the last of these that is the most worrisome to me. It is worrisome because in three cases, men who have publicly proclaimed that they hold to this line of teaching have been exonerated by their presbyteries.

Thus have church debates always been, which is a reason not to enter into them, unless something very precious is at stake. In this case, I think there is, and I want to demonstrate it from the well-known parable of the Pharisee and the Publican.

You know the story. Two men go to the temple to pray. One is a Pharisee --a devout, religious, and moral man. He says "God, I thank you that I am not like other men are --particularly like that tax collector over there." The tax collector (publican) can only beat his chest, and cry out to God, "God be merciful to me, a sinner." Jesus asks the question, "Which one went home justified (that is, received by God as righteous)?"

One of the most prominent self-proclaimed Federal Vision advocates (exonerated by his presbytery this past Saturday) interprets the parable this way:

Here in Luke 18 we learn that the Pharisee was not righteous (even though they thought he was) and the tax collector was righteous. The key is to understand what “righteous” means. It does not refer to moral purity or conformity to a legal standard... “Righteousness” in the Bible means covenant faithfulness. A person is righteous when he does what the covenant requires of him. The Pharisee thinks he’s righteous but in fact is not; the tax collector does not claim to be righteous, but in fact he is. The TC goes back to his house “justified” or “rectified,” which in context means, “shown to be righteous.”

Notice a few things:

He says to be righteous does not mean conformity to a legal standard (that is, the Law), but covenant faithfulness.
The tax collector, then, is shown to be righteous because he does what the covenant requires of him. He is not received as righteous out of the mercy of God.

Some might here allege that I am reading too much into the above words. Yet, the author of these words later says

All I’m saying is that the tax collector had humble faith. God requires humble faith. That’s what it means to be faithful to his covenant. The publican met that requirement. The Pharisee did not. He went home justified. The Pharisee did not. I’m not sure what is so controversial about that.

Follow carefully what is being said here. The tax collector was recognized by God as righteous, because he "met that requirement." The publican was righteous because he was "faithful to the covenant."

Therein lies the rub. Am I saved by God because I am faithful to his covenant, even if I view that faithfulness as something God helps me to do? Am I saved because my faith is sufficiently humble --humble enough to meet the righteous demands of God in his covenant?

Or, rather, am I one who breaks covenant with God each and every day? Speaking just for myself, if my salvation is dependent upon my faithfulness in keeping covenant with God, in being humble enough, or faithful enough, then I am in real trouble.

By that estimation, the Pharisee, not the Publican, was the one who was faithful. After all, he credits God with helping him be the man that he is --a man very much like Paul describes himself to have been, pre-conversion, in Philippians. 3:4-7:

though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness, under the lawblameless. But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.

The difference could not be more stark. The Federal Vision pastor says, "The tax collector was saved because he was faithful in keeping God's covenant." I think Scripture says, "The tax collector was saved despite his repeated, flagrant and continued violation of God's covenant." How was he saved? Because another (namely, Jesus, the one telling the story) was faithful to the covenant in his behalf.

Justification is not, as is said above, being "shown to be righteous." It is being regarded by God as righteous, though I am yet a sinner. It is being "justified freely by his grace, as a gift." It is, as Paul says:

ESV Philippians 3:9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith -

The danger in the PCA is not just this teaching, but that many, given the charge of discerning truth from falsehood, cannot seem to see the difference between the two, or think that they are both viable, Biblical choices. To me, whether I am saved by Christ's obedience, or by my obedience, seems to be a stark and irreconcilable difference. In the various reports coming out of the presbyteries exonerating this teaching, the difference is viewed as no big deal. I think the courts are wrong.

What is more, if I am saved by my covenant keeping, in all honesty, I am ready to give up. Each day, I resolve to be more faithful and obedient to God, and each day I fail. Who will deliver me from this body of death. As Paul said --Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. As a great hero of the faith said on his death bed, "Thank God for the active obedience of Christ. No hope without it."

I hope to write more on problems with this teaching --how it promotes externalism by stressing covenant keeping (whereas true righteousness comes from the heart), etc... Please feel free to ask questions!

Yearning...

2011-01-03T08:03:00.001-08:00

How many great Christians have said memorable things on the subject of yearning. We suspect (and in some cases know) that this was because of profound personal experience with it: at once wonderful and awful, sometimes overpowering longing for something beyond.

Augustine said it, "Lord, thou hast made us for thyself, and our hearts are restless till we rest in thee."

Luther spoke of sehnsucht --the intensity of longing.

Lewis said it in many ways, among them "“The experience is one of

intense longing ... this desire, even when there is no hope of possible

satisfaction, continues to be prized, and even to be preferred to anything else

in the world, by those who have once felt it.” One might argue that all of Narnia was the unfurling of this sentence.

No question that Augustine was talking about the soul coming to know God in this present world, but those of us who know God experience longing too. We long for the place where we finally fit, finally feel at home, finally have rest from our worries, happy fellowship with no tension, productive labor --when we finally and completely are able to fulfill that for which we are created.

As believers, we know that this longing is never fulfilled in this life. Yet, we keep looking for it here. We look for it in an irretrievable past --trying to "go home again." We look for it over the next hill of human notoriety or achievement, or the next geographic locale, or the next house, or the next amount added to our portfolio. We reach that particular place, and, like a mountain range, discover that there is another, higher peak beyond, the seeing of which creates even more longing.

Longing waxes and wanes, but its right target is the eternal kingdom of God. Our longing ought to cause us to cry out "Maranatha --come quickly, Lord Jesus." The whole creation longs for the revelation of the sons of God. We need consciously to target our longing in the right place, and work to cultivate contentment here in our present circumstances. When I figure out how that's done, I'll fill the rest of you in. The Puritans seemed to get it --they wrote some great and helpful little books. But, I am not yet where Paul was, content in every circumstances.

One of my chief sins, I think, is discontent. God help me. There is no pleasure in that particular sin, and yet I indulge it. Buddhism builds content by the destruction of yearning, and the acceptance of circumstance. To me, that is bleak beyond words. The Christian builds contentment by finding his joy in the source of all joy --communion with Christ. Yet, this is a cultivated discipline, and one which I need to pursue more diligently.

Those are my rambling Monday thoughts...

Our Legalistic Definition of Legalism

2010-12-21T12:01:00.001-08:00

First, a clarification. I am not among those who think that legalism is the worst bugbear out there in the culture or in the church. I think it's a pretty big one, but it's not the only one. I don't think every sermon we preach ought to be against legalism. There's a lot of antinomianism out there, too.

That said, legalism is fresh on my mind because I am preaching through Matthew 23 and 24.

So, the legalistic syllogism goes something like this: Legalists believe in salvation by works. I don't believe in salvation by works. Therefore, I am not a legalist.

I would argue that is a legalistically narrow definition of legalism. It appears to me to be a far narrower definition than Jesus himself gives.

And, I would argue, it is not an accurate understanding of the scribes and Pharisees at all. It is misleading. Almost nobody fits that definition precisely. Therefore, I am safe in my semi-legalism.

As Sinclair Ferguson once pointed out, the Pharisees were not Pelagians. They did not believe they were saved by unaided good works. They were, rather semi-Pelagians --the God helps those who help themselves crowd. Want proof? What does Jesus' parable Pharisee say? Lord, I thank you that I am not like other men are..." He credits God, then credits himself. How savvy of him. God made him who he was. It was God who spared him from being like that publican. There, but for the grace of God, go I. I know better. I obey, by the grace of God. You don't...

Jesus' definition of legalism is straining at gnats and swallowing camels. It is hypocrisy. It is tithing without mercy and faithfulness. It is loving long flowing robes and greeting in the marketplaces. It is long public prayers. It is the seat of honor at banquets. It is a love of titles. It is phylacteries and tassels.

It is putting burdens on people that are too heavy to be borne.

In short, legalism is robbing people of the joy of relationship with God by the imposing of rules. Rules that take Scripture's grand principles and convert them into minute expectations. Rules that convince me that I am doing a better job at living this Christian life than you are. Rules that show me how good I am, and, incidentally, how bad you are. Legalists did not so much add to Scripture whole new lists of requirements as they did take the spare Law of God and codify it into a bazillion provisos, caveats, whereases and heretofores. We can grant that they did it with the best of intentions --they were serious about obedience to God. They were so serious they couldn't keep their own rules, so they made loopholes to ease the burden of them.

Before long, the rules became stuff that, if I do, makes me one of the "in," and you, if you don't, one of the "out."

Conservative evangelicalism of the Reformed type seems rife with these sorts of well-intentioned unwritten rules. Rules about education, about holidays, about childrearing, etc etc. Often we confuse the wise choices with the iron-clad right choices. We deny mitigating circumstances; we deny Christian liberty. We substitute legislation for counsel. Wisdom, however, takes into account mitigating circumstances --that there is not always one "right" answer, for everyone at all times, about all matters. Wisdom skillfully takes God's truth and applies it to one's own life.

Let me give you an example. My children go to public school. At one time, I thought I would never send my children to public school. I knew there were good Christian teachers in public schools, but I wanted my children in fine Christian schools or home schooled. God gave us an eldest daughter with special needs. Christian schools can't meet all her needs. In our judgment, at this point in her life, home school couldn't meet all her needs.

Public schools here aren't hostile to Christianity. God broke my legalism about public school, and it has been a blessing. I still commend Christian schooling and home schooling to parents. They can be very wise choices, sometimes the wisest choices. But they aren't "Thou shalt" obedience issues. They are wisdom issues, and liberty issues. I don't feel superior to parents who make other choices. Yet, there are churches in our own denomination I could not pastor because I choose to let my children go to public school. There are people in our denomination that think I have made an evil choice; I've met some and they've told me.

Legalism kills joy. Legalism kills community. Legalism is excessively concerned with the business of other people. God, show us our lingering legalisms, and help us to put it to death.

Advent Thoughts

2010-12-01T07:17:00.001-08:00

It can be challenging to come up with fresh approaches to the Advent Season year after year. Yet, the Glorious Event is so significant that it bears a fresh sounding of every note. In previous years, I have done the songs of Advent (Zechariah's, Simeon's, the Angels', Mary's etc), and the prophecies of Advent.

This year, my series focuses on the various reactions to Advent by the affected parties. I am fascinated by those God chose to be witnesses to the obscure event. One can see God's plan of salvation clearly revealed in whom he chooses to witness and announce the birth of his Christ.

The shepherds, for instance --the unclean people of the land, beloved in Scripture but derided by the establishment of Jesus' day. God loves the outcast and came to cleanse the unclean through his Great Good Shepherd. Shepherds, like women, could not testify in court. They were considered unrealiable. God chooses shepherds to bear witness to his incarnation, and women to bear witness to the empty tomb. God values what man despises.

Then, the angels, who speak of God's dual, intertwined purpose in the Incarnation: Glory to God, and peace among humanity. In the incarnation, God will vindicate his glorious purposes by setting into motion the reclamation of both humanity and his creation. God's glory and his creation's good are intertwined purposes.

Then, Herod. The kings of the earth rise up, rulers take counsel together against the Lord and against his anointed. Yet, God in Christ came to displace the wicked reign of the powers that be with the peaceable reign of his son. This troubles all the Herods of the world in Christ's time and ours --and it should, because Christ will one day assert his crown rights....

Then, the Magi. The Gentiles shall come to thy light... Christ's saving purposes extend to the nations.

Then, Mary herself. Her soul magnifies the Lord and rejoices in God her savior --exaltation and humility, submission and contemplation. Who is she that God should choose her? She is no-one, yet she bears the Son of God. Like her, we "carry" the Son of God, despite our low status. We bring God's glory into the world by the power of the Spirit.

The Advent of Our Lord was one of the signal events in God's work of redemption, and indeed in all human history. Let us rejoice!

Good Stuff from Mark Driscoll

2010-11-09T10:34:00.001-08:00

This

On churches and how they ought to be like families, and why sometimes they don't feel that way.

This, of course, is one side of the story. There are other sides. Sometimes churches haven't quite learned to function like families, sometimes they have cliques that function like families whilst leaving others out, and sometimes they are a bunch of people collected around a particular style, set of doctrines or a personality.

There are things that can be done, both from the side of the individual and the side of the church, to bring about the family Christ intends, whether the church is small, medium or large.

How Heaven Is Like an Idealized City

2010-11-04T06:11:00.001-07:00

Okay, so Tim Keller's comment on my last post got me thinking....

In Revelation, the vision we are given of the eternal kingdom is that of a resplendent city. John, in recounting his vision, strains at the limits of his understanding and of human language to describe what he sees, "The wall was built of jasper, while the city was pure gold, clear as glass. The foundations of the wall of the city were adorned with every kind of jewel...and the twelve gates were twelve pearls, each of the gates made of a single pearl, and the street of the city was pure gold, transparent as glass...and the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light and its lamp is the Lamb...and there will be no night there. (Rev 21).

One wonders how a first century man, as John was, would describe a modern city. How would he describe the Chrysler Building or the Hancock Building in Chicago? What would he think of street lamps --ancient cities were dark, and today's cities are permanently alight? No night in the modern city. Concrete and asphalt would seem a wonder compared to streets of dust. I am not arguing that John saw twenty-first century Manhattan, I simply find the thought intriguing.

How is heaven like an idealized city? Not the modern, cookie cutter oversized inconvenient office park cities of recent vintage, but the grand old industrial and financial center cities. Think Chicago, Pittsburgh, New York, or Detroit in its glory days. How might heaven be like those, shorn of avarice, crime, sexual sin, and corruption?

Cities are beehives of productivity. In the same building, you will find CEO's who command multi-million dollar salaries and fast food workers making minimum wage, and all of them are busy, busy, busy, making the economy of a city hum. Heaven is not a place of indolence --my father works, and I work. Part of being in the image of God is being productive.
Cities are multi-cultural. Since the late nineteenth century, the nations have poured in to North American cities. The mix of languages and cultures at the same mingling together and retaining their distinctiveness, add zest to the city. Heaven will be the gathering place of the redeemed of all the nations.
Cities are built to impress. I love Chicago, because it got a chance to "do over" after a great fire, and they did it right. Chicago is built on a swamp. After the fire, the city fathers elevated the city, so now all utility and garbage collection happens on lower level streets, below the sidewalks. You don't share the street with garbage in Chicago. They reversed the flow of the Chicago River away from Lake Michigan out of sanitary concerns: they drank Lake Michigan water. Brilliant. City of Big Shoulders indeed. Steel girders and human ingenuity gave us the skyscraper, and skyscrapers convey wealth, beauty, and ingenuity. Many of them are iconic: Pittsburgh's Cathedral of Learning, the aforementioned Hancock and Chrysler buildings, etc. Heaven is clearly built to impress us with the ingenuity and wisdom of God.
Cities are cultural centers. They are repositories of the best of cultural artifacts. Go to Chicago and see their incredible Monet collection. The Guggenheim Museum in New York is itself a work of art. There are public art installations, and theaters on every corner. Great symphonies reside in great cities. Great temple-like building are built to house them. Everything is lavish and done well. Heaven is the abode of he who does all things well, the Author of beauty and music.
Cities are endlessly interesting. There are always new diverse neighborhoods to explore. My wife grew up in Pittsburgh, and yet we are still discovering new neighborhoods and new things to do --and Pittsburgh is certainly far from the largest of cities. Heaven will have an infinite number of fascinating things to explore.
Cities gather up impressive people. Imagine what it takes to build a building in a city, with its maze of regulations, unions and challenging property. Then, think of Donald Trump. The Donald is a master of self-promotion, and I am sure there are better real estate minds, but he is the one that everyone knows. The brain flow goes toward the cities --they are places of great universities, and great minds, and great things happen there on a massive scale. Heaven will be full of impressive people --not those that impressed the eyes of the world when they were here, but those through whom God did great things, often in secret, while they were here.
Cities provide for every human need. Imagine the massive amounts of water needed for a city. Imagine what is needed to eliminate rainwater from the streets of a city. Imagine the emergency services needed. Imagine the amount of food that must flow into a city, the amount of electricity and other forms of power. Imagine the information superstructure that flows through cables --the massive interconnection of computers and telephones. Transportation, sustenance, sanitation, rescue, entertainment are provided by the city in spades. Heaven will be the fulfillment of all our needs, and all our sanctified wants.

Much more could be said. We are looking for a celestial city, and I am longing to see it!

How Heaven Is Like a Small Town

2010-11-03T11:23:00.000-07:00

There is a tendency to idolize both one's upbringing and the small town, and it is not my intention to do that. I know full well the ugly side of small town life: the provincialism, the petty infighting, the divisions, etc. I also know that the small town itself is dead or dying in many places. It is the rare small town today that is a self-contained society, with a vibrant communal life and commercial and career opportunities.

When I was younger, I could not wait to get away from the small town. I grew up in a small town not too far from Grand Rapids, a mid-sized city. My parents had moved away from the city before I was born, seeking a smaller town in which to raise their family. My cousins and grandparents lived in Grand Rapids, and I was always curious about that life. Everything was so convenient. My cousin and I could ride our bikes to a convenience store. There were restaurants and movie theaters. As I got older, I discovered the cultural life there. I loved trips as a young child to the big downtown department stores, which have since perished.

Being from a small town, and now living in a suburb, I have discovered they are two very different things. Small towns are far enough from cities to have their own community life, while the suburb leeches off the city. No, heaven is not like a suburb. We live in one of the best suburbs I could ever imagine, and yet I profoundly hope that heaven is different than the suburb.

It is hard to imagine heaven being like a megalopolis either. We are told to look for the city that has foundations, which is a new Jerusalem...Jerusalem, like a city that is compact together. Even Rome, the largest city of the ancient era, was scarely larger than Grand Rapids. I'm with Jacques Ellul on this one --cities can dehumanize, as much as I love to visit them and experience them. Probably community used to happen in cities, but I sense that probably met its demise with the death of self-sufficient neighborhoods, which were like small towns within cities.

Being from a small town gives one a sense of place. You knew who you were in a small town, and other people did, too. You were somebody's child, who want to this or that church, and had this or that teacher. All the spheres of your life overlapped: some of the people you saw at church were those you saw at school, you worked for people who knew your parents, life centered on family, church, school and community events. You had a sense of place, a feeling of belonging. There was life there, and it was lived, not in isolation, but community.

My graduating class had about 65 people. We were not all friends. We did not all get along. There were pecking orders and popularity contests. It all seems so petty now --because it was. Yet, you knew everyone, for good and bad, you were bound together.

This is how heaven is like a small town, though shorn of sin and pettiness: everyone there stands in intimate, unbroken community forever. They all go to the same places. They all do things together. You know and are known. There is no anonymity, no isolation.

Lewis said heaven felt more like home than any earthly home. I'm looking forward to that.

In Which He Wades into the Sin / Sickness Debate, and Shows Why We Can't Just "Stop It."

2010-10-12T10:58:00.002-07:00

And Argues Not for Either/Or but Both/And

Okay, this is one funny clean sketch, but it does introduce a question...

When it comes to mental illness, compulsion and addiction, why can't a person just "stop it?"

The snarky side of me says, "Well, why don't you just stop sinning?" Stopping it isn't so simple, is it?

Let's be clear what is not under discussion. There is no suggestion that if a person is sick that he must of necessity be a worse sinner than anyone else. That is the bad theology of Job's comforters or those sorts that ask, "Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind..." We live in a fallen world, and people get all sorts of sicknesses for all sorts of reasons.

What is under the Biblical microscope today are the thorny issues of the mind and innate proclivities, both in terms of mental illness and addictive / compulsive behavior, things like: schizophrenia, bi-polar, depression etc., as well as homosexuality, sex obsession (or addiction), and substance addictions.

I have had some dealings with this, seen some particularly gut-wrenching tragedies up close and personal, and have a heart both for those who struggle with mental illness and addictions. Thus, my thoughts.

I know all these are not of one kind, certainly, and I approach them as the proverbial layman. I think it will be useful to group them together for one part of the consideration and separate them for another.

Some, in the scientific/medical or psychological community, would say that certain disorders of the mind and attendant behaviors are simply illness --the products of conditioning or physiological malfunction, with no moral component at all. An affliction like depression has no element of choice (which would imply some moral dimension and possibility of sin) --it simply is, and it needs to be treated.

Depending on the specialty of the practitioner sometimes is a predictor as to what treatment is viewed to be most effective: primarily medication or talk therapy. Medication may treat the underlying physiological issue, or it may simply suppress the issue. Talk therapy may give some sort of external perspective and tools for addressing the internal and external manifestations of whatever affliction or behavior.

Sometimes Christians, either without thinking or without the best of intention, based upon positive result, will buy this model without any reservation. If a pill makes the depression abate, then a pill must be the right answer; if 12 steps help the alcoholic stay sober, then 12 steps must be the way to sobriety; if talk therapy helps conquer post-traumatic stress disorder, then talk therapy must be the way to cure PTSD.

Some in the church have reacted strongly against this. The Scripture, they say, tells us not to allow ourselves to be mastered by anything --hence in this view addiction, quite simply, is sin. Even if substances are taken by way of self medication --to quell the lasting after-effects of trauma-- it is still a wrong moral choice to take those substances. At any point, the person who is taking those substances can simply choose to stop taking them. Every needle injected and every pill swallowed is a moral choice --simply a choice to sin-- which one could choose not to do, by simple act of will.

Perhaps the clearest picture we get of this is the attitude of many in the church towards homosexuality. It is interesting, as an aside, how quick we are to condemn sins which may hold no particular temptation for us, and how quick we are to excuse sins of which we are guilty. If I leer at a woman, then that is simply natural: men are supposed to be attracted to women; but, if a man leers at another man, then that is gross and disgusting. The truth is --all sin is gross and disgusting. Gossip is gross and disgusting, so is envy, strife, slander and vainglory. Sexual sin is not disgusting because of its physicality (which after all is created and observed by God) and is very good within moral boundaries) but because it is disobedient to him.

Many in the church treat homosexuality as if it were a simple choice --a young man or woman, in a simple act of rebellion, chooses to be sexually attracted to their same sex. This is absurd in the extreme. No choices of that magnitude are simple choices --there are a multitude of conditioning factors, some of which may be genetic predisposition and gender confusion early in life.

It is, however, important to add that genetic predisposition does not remove human sexual attraction from the realm of moral consideration. Human beings are broken by the effects of the fall --we are born with all sorts of baggage and proclivities, some of which we must resist with might and mien.

Understanding those factors helps us to be compassionate to the person struggling with gender identity, who may have given in to that attraction on occasion, or may have adopted it as a lifestyle. Yes, homosexual lust is sin. Yes, homosexual behavior is sin. Yes, a homosexual lifestyle is sin. It is a particularly powerful sin. It is particularly a mark of mankind's rebellion against God's order, even expressed in his general revelation. In that sense, it is a mark of the brokenness of our entire race, as much as it is an indictment on the individual who engages in it.

It also points us to the work of the church, which is not the sort of condemnation that leaves people in despair, but rather rescue. It is not moral people helping the immoral, but rather immoral people saved by grace helping other immoral people find the same grace that both restores them to God and rescues them from the particular manifestation sin has taken in their life, acknowledging that this particular sin does not easily die (and in fact, at the desire level, may not die till glorification). Sin is not a simple choice --it does not simply go away.

Addictions and compulsions are different. Yet, often these are not simple choices, either. It is possible that a young person may simply start using drugs recreationally out of peer pressure, rebellion or to have a good time, and this young person may find himself ensnared. Another person may live through a trauma, and "self-medicate" and be ensnared. Another may have a prescription narcotic and become ensnared. These are not morally equivalent.

Is the addiction disease or sin? Yes. Addiction works physiological changes in the body (at least according to my friends in the medical profession). A body begins to crave substances, and withdrawal itself can be a physically dangerous proposition. Yet, the choice to engage in the addiction or compulsion, even with the physiological "need" factor, involves moral consideration --namely, sin.

We need to say, however, that our idea of sin is flawed. People get very angry when a behavior is labeled "sin," as if that means the person who is engaging in the behavior is worthless, less of a person, or morally inferior to others who do not engage in that sin. That is not the image the Bible gives us of sin. Sin is a want of conformity unto or transgression of God's Law. That is a freeing thing. God is in the business of delivering us from sin, allowing us to repent of sin, and freeing us from the guilt and power of sin. To call something sin is to highlight the beauty of God's willingness to forgive sin, and his help in turning us away from sin (that is, repent).

None of this is easy or a simple choice --this cannot be reiterated enough. Turning away from sin may require years and much help. This is where I argue for a "both / and" approach. Depression has a physiological aspect. I know some of this up close and personal. I also know, however, that self-pity, which seems to be a feature of depression, involves a moral choice. On what battlefield do I fight this? The physiological or the spiritual? Well, why not both? The depressed person can be helped by medication. He may be helped by truth-based therapy. Yet, he can also be helped by hearing the good news that God forgives him of the sin of self-pity, and is willing to help him turn away from it.

Schizophrenia and bi-polar, and the combination thereof are probably the thorniest of these issues. A person loses his grip on reality. He sees and hears things that aren't there. He may see demonic manifestations ordering him to harm himself or others. He may take his own life. There is a physiological defect of a profound nature. Does that mean there is no moral choice involved? It is very difficult to say. I have known a fine, kind, gentle young man who was afflicted with schizo-affective disorder --the worst of both schizophrenia and bi-polar. He took his own life. What killed him --the disease or his own hand? The secrets are locked away in the dark recesses of the tormented mind. Yet, suicide is sin, but God forgives sin. Making a moral judgment on suicide does not mean there is no hope for forgiveness.

We are body-soul unities. These sorts of questions are impossible to separate out --what is sin and what is sickness? In fact, they are both. They are the products of the fall and affected by moral choice. Therefore, we ought to attack them on all fronts. Medication. Talk, Repentance. Grace. Hope. Love. Our weakness in dealing with these things is separating body from soul. One person only looks at the physiology, another only at the psychology, another only at the sin. Someday, we will learn to pull all these together, and maybe then gain more substantial victories over thorny sins, addictions and mental illness than we can today.

Sermons: Information or Encounter?

2010-10-10T05:22:00.000-07:00

Not a hard and fast line: encounters have information, of course! The beloved Doctor says:

The life of Christ is in us! It is not theory, it is a life-giving teaching, it is a life-imparting teaching. If I am preaching in the Spirit, as I pray God I am, I am not only uttering words to you, I am imparting life to you, I am being used of God as the channel of the Spirit and my words bring life and not merely knowledge. Do you accept that distinction? I am almost afraid sometimes for those of you who take notes, that you may just be getting the words and not the Spirit. I am not saying that you should not take notes, but I do warn you to be careful. Much more important than the words is the Spirit, the life; in Christ we are being taught, and built up in Him. So that in a sense, though you may forget the words, you will have received the life, and you go out aware of the life of God, as it were, pulsating within you. David Martyn. Lloyd-Jones, Christian Unity (Studies in Ephesians, Chapter 4, Verses 1 Through 16) (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1972), 114.

Some Words on Silence

2010-10-05T07:49:00.001-07:00

I spill verbiage for a living. I need to have something to say, at least enough to get through the various lessons and sermons of a week.

Lately, however, I've had little more to say or write than that. God bless the prolific bloggers, article writers and authors --I simply don't know how they do it. I have a book in process, but have not written on it in weeks --I simply lack the words.

Silence can be the result when life itself feels oppressive. Some people pour forth out of the difficulties of life --think of David or Job's many words. For others, it renders them mute.

Sometimes it feels as if God is not speaking to us. I know, the theologue will point out that God has spoken and has said all he needed to say. Yet, in our experience, it can appear that, however much we may speak to God in prayer, he has nothing to say to us in return.

I am hoping against hope, however, that God's silence is a way of his communicating to us, as maddening as it can be. And sometimes, we just need to be silent before him.

I do not like silence. I fill my silence with music to lift my spirits, and with the mindless blather of talk radio to quieten the solitariness that accompanies the pastorate (solitariness is different from loneliness, mind you --I have friends). Yet, I need to leave room for silence.

Maybe God is speaking to me about the importance of silence.

Good Old Basic Vanilla Bible Doctrine

2010-09-30T06:34:00.001-07:00

After hearing Rush Limbaugh opine that the Golden Rule was not part of the teachings of Jesus, and reading this article from USA Today on the beliefs (or lack thereof) of professing Christians, it becomes clear to me that the church has remedial work to do.

I remember when I got my first taste of Christians who hadn't been taught much doctrine. An acquaintance in college painted himself as something of a super Christian. He did not have much patience for struggling sinners --he, himself, didn't struggle at all. And, he didn't know that one of the great promises of the Christian faith is that we would be raised, bodily, from the dead just like Jesus was. He still resisted it even after I told him to go look up 1 Corinthians 15. This was a bright young man, raised in a Christian household, the product of a Christian school, and an evangelical church. In many respects, he was far more an upstanding model of the Christian life than I was at that point, but he didn't know a basic core belief, and, when shown it, resisted it.

Church instruction is not something we think of often. We spend relatively little time, inf light of our overall lives, being instructed out of the Word of God. Most churches no longer have evening services or midweek programs. Small groups may study Scripture, but systematic instruction is probably not something in which most small groups engage.

Christians are rightly concerned with acting out their faith through deeds of mercy. They are rightly concerned with how to apply their faith to the challenges of their lives. But, as sadly becomes clear here, many of them don't know the basic content of their faith. It is no wonder, then, that so many of us are so poor at living it out. We borrow our understanding of compassion from statism: namely, let others do it instead of doing it ourselves. Our understanding of God comes more from Oprah than from Scripture. Hence, Mark Driscoll's book Doctrine is a much needed tome.

Doctrine lights few fires among modern Christians. Even in the seminaries, Biblical studies faculty sometimes deride studying doctrine in systematic fashion. Churches resist anything beyond Biblical instruction. We spend a lot of our time on program and show. We spend some time on compassion and mercy. Yet, here we see we must make time for doctrine.

Doctrine means teaching the catechism, but it means far more than memorizing the catechism. It means fleshing out those truths, demonstrating them, helping children particularly to internalize them. It means making sure parents understand, value and love doctrine so they can talk about it with their children.

The Christian life is far more than doctrine, but neither is it less than doctrine. The danger in today's churches, even conservative and Reformed ones, is that we assume knowledge of doctrine. What is assumed by one generation is forgotten by the next. Our job, at least in part, is to pass on the content of the faith, and we need to do a better job at it.

Monday Morning Thoughts: Why Legalism Is Far More Dangerous than Licentiousness

2010-09-20T06:40:00.000-07:00

Among religiously conservative people, legalism is the respectable sin. We figure, I fear, that it is far better than license --a necessary corrective to the wanton rebelliousness of our age. Better to be a little scrupulously over-obedient than to dwell in the tents of wickedness with the prostitute and the addict and the tax collector.

Aren't we free to make up rules as we try to work out the thorny issue of obedience?

Admittedly a very difficult issue. Making up rules and expecting others to keep them seem to be evil twins, yet heartfelt obedience is important. How do we keep the Lord's Day without a few rules that govern how we keep it? How do we reign in lust without a few stipulations about what we will allow our daughters to wear, and what entertainment we will watch? No easy answers --it would be legalistic to give them!

Still and all, Jesus has far harsher words for those who are scrupulous about obedience (and, incidentally, often excuse a world of their own disobedience) than he does for the prostitute and the tax collectors, who indeed "go into the kingdom ahead of you." The scrupulous seem inevitably to "treat others with contempt." I know I do.

We make a tragic mistake when we restrict Pharasaism to a strict category, and write ourselves out of it. Our syllogism is simple:

Pharisees believe in justification by works

I believe in justification by faith.

Therefore I am not a Pharisee.

Phew! Glad I got that settled. Not so fast. First, Pharisees weren't (to paraphrase Sinclair Ferguson) Pelagians, they were semi-Pelagians. In plain speech, they didn't believe they were innately free from sin's corrupting influence, who could merit unaided eternal life. Rather, they believed that, with God's help, they could be good people who could lead lives that pleased God --"Lord, I thank thee that I am not as other men are...." They were not sinless, but they were not sinners either. They were good people who sinned. The difference between seeing ones' self as a good person who sins, and a sinner is the difference between winding up in Heaven or in Hell.

Jesus tells his disciples, "Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy." Christians can have Pharisee leaven in their dough. Peter acted the part in Galatia. I am a Pharisee every day, when I comment to a friend on the life choices of a congregant. I am not saying at all that we should never speak to anyone about their sin. I am saying, however, when I think or talk to another in passing judgment on a third party, I am pretty well convicted of being a Pharisee.

Pharisaism is dangerous. It is far more dangerous than lust or greed. It is dangerous precisely because it masquerades as righteousness, as surely as Satan masquerades as an Angel of Light. It is, however, the farthest thing from actual righteousness. Pharisee righteousness is self-derived --the product of God's work in me. True righteousness is derived only from God, by faith. I have no merit and standing with God based upon my obedience, either before my salvation or after. My only hope is God's patience and grace.

We ought to accord various sins the same weight Jesus did. The greatest church in the world would be the one where: a.) sinners were regularly coming to Christ and b.) alongside CEO's and politicians there were strippers and addicts. It would really be awesome to be the pastor of a church like that. I think I'll ask God and see if he'll make it happen.

Barometers of Church Health

2010-09-07T07:59:00.000-07:00

Yes, if you are a regular reader, you will notice this photo, one of my favorites of all time. The former home of the Woodward Avenue Presbyterian Church in Detroit, aka "St. Curvy's." It's my favorite picture of a church corpse.

My intrepid assistant pastor has a famously insightful and provocative father (who has written books about citizen soldiers and men in leather hats). Last week, the senior said to the junior something quite interesting, something along the lines of "A church's health is inversely proportional to the number of staff it has." He got that from Donald MacGavran.

Now, my purpose is certainly not to knock the large church. Bigger churches need more staff, and actually may have less staff, per capita, than smaller or mid-sized churches. What is meant, I think, is that the amount of staff is a barometer of church health. Are people invested in the ministry? Do they care enough to do the work? Or, do we need to hire it done?

Again, a qualification. Some positions require special skills, etc., or such copious amounts of time that they legitimate full time work. There is no fixed list of what these things are. That does not, however, negate the overall point. People need to come to church to do --to roll up their sleeves and engage in the work. Moreover, they need to feel so responsible for the work that, if they don't do it, it does not happen. The problem with having paid staff, in some cases in my own experience is: a.) we have someone to blame when things go wrong, and b.) we pay someone to do this, so we don't have to. Not healthy, not healthy at all.

That's one barometer, I think, of church health. The other is more troublesome to me. I have begged, pleaded, cajoled and scolded to get people (especially elders) to various prayer venues. My standard isn't high. We have several prayer venues in a given week. Just go to one, semi-regularly.

I have been positive, I have been negative. I have threatened to firebomb their houses. Okay, not really....

Then, I came across this when I was re-reading in one of my favorite little books, Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire, a quote from Spurgeon:

The condition of a church may be very accurately gauged by its prayer meetings. So is the prayer meeting a grace-ometer, and from it we may judge the amount of divine working among a people. If God be near a church, it must pray. And if he be not there, one of the first tokens of his absence will be a slothfulness in prayer.

There are other barometers to be sure. What are they?

Mark Driscoll, Legalism, and Your Average PCA Congregation

2010-08-26T09:38:00.000-07:00

Prophetic words from one of our cultural prophets. Driscoll sometimes makes me nervous. Yet, I give him props for speaking unvarnished, rugged truths to an urban audience.

And today I thank God for him for speaking unvarnished, rugged truths to me and my situation. He, like CJ Mahaney, uses doxological humor to great effect here.

I am becoming more and more aware and convinced that many, many people in the PCA do not understand the real nature of the Christian life, and it kills our kids, it kills our joy, it is pervasive among the leadership, and I hate it in myself.

The whole thing would bear watching. But, if you don't have the patience for an hour long sermon, start at 35 minutes.

Notable points at 50:50 and 57:50.

If you're in the PCA, especially listen at the 59 minute mark, where he expounds on "How to Become a Legalist:

1.) Make rules outside the Bible.

2.) PUsh yourself to try and keep your rules.

3.) Castigate yourself when you fail.

4.) Be proud when you do keep your rules.

5.) Appoint yourself as judge over people.

6.) Get angry with people who don't keep your rules or have other rules.

7.) Beat the losers.

Then he says, "If you parent like this, you will destroy your child."

Then he says, "If you are a boss like this, you will destroy your employees."

And if you lead like this, you will destroy your church. And if you lead like this, you will destroy your church. And if you lead like this, you will destroy your church....

Then he names the campuses of his own church most prone to legalism.

Then he says, "If you're sitting back, saying, "Yeah, I'm not a legalist. They don't drink, I drink. etc..." you're a reverse legalist, a libertine.

Both the legalist and the libertine are trying to do the same thing: please God by what they do or don't do.

Brilliant.

What's the answer? Resting in Christ.

Which is basically the point of every sermon I'm trying to preach of late. Too often we're missing it, folks. We are legalists and libertines, when we need to be loving Jesus.

Culture and Its Distinctions

2010-08-25T14:20:00.000-07:00

In my last post, I mentioned Christians, the church, and relationship to the culture. As I stopped to ponder it, I wonder if "the culture" is too broad a category to brand as friendly or hostile to the Christian view of the world.

Here's what I mean: Beethoven is not NARAL is not the Kinsey Report is not The Brothers Karamazov is not The Economist is not Joe Biden is not Lady Gaga. All are cultural icons. None are neutral. Some might be conceived of as friendly to the Christian worldview (go Ludwig, though Mahler is edging up on you in my estimation of composers and Fyodor!!), others might be a mixed bag (not Lady Gaga, but maybe The Economist), and others are downright opposed (Hey, Dr. Kinsey! and NARAL).

So, the Christian cannot be simply pro or anti culture. Like in most things, careful distinctions are required of us.

Like "Do not love the world or the things in the world. Friendship with the world is enmity towards God."

And "For God so loved the world that he gave..."

Distinctions. Nuance. Different senses. The very things with which so many Christians are so very impatient.

The Church, The Gospel, The Truth

2010-08-25T13:16:00.001-07:00

How the church is to relate to the culture is a matter of much debate, and has been for some time. Decades ago, sociologist of religions Richard Niebuhr released his classifications, ranging from churches held captive to the culture to those who argued for complete separation from the culture.

Most people in the Reformed world fall far to the middle, and yet even there how we are to relate to the culture makes for some strange bedfellows. For instance, both a conservative and a more progressive evangelical may argue for what is called a "spirituality of the church" or "radical two kingdoms" position.

The progressive might say that the church's sole interest is the gospel, not how its members cast their ballots. The church, they say, is in danger of getting between people and the gospel if it becomes the Sarah Palin campaign headquarters. Democrats need Jesus too. Usually, the progressive would not allow such a view to get in the way of clothing the poor or feeding the hungry; it rather issues forth in a concern that the church not appear too partisan, and be blind to the faults and failings of the predominant political persuasion of its membership.

The weakness of this position is that the Scriptures address far more than the gospel, and Christ is our Lord in the voting booth, too.

The conservative 2 kingdom type may proceed on different grounds. He, too, is concerned about the purity of the gospel, and is very wary of the "social gospel," the confusion of the ethical demands of Jesus with a liberal political agenda. He may argue that, liberal or conservative, the church is a redemptive institution, and its sphere of authority and influence relates to "first table of the Law" type issues --man's relationship with God. It has nothing to say to the broader culture, who aren't listening anyway, and it has no right to try to shape the public opinions of its members.

Both of these groups seem horrified at the thought of being identified with anything that might smack of Pat Robertson or Jerry Falwell.

The other side of the spectrum are those who make no real distinction between the world and the kingdom of God. Again, this takes both a liberal and a conservative form. The liberal form could be identified with Sojourners Magazine, the writings of Ron Sider, Jim Wallis and Tony Campolo. Christ told us we must care for the marginalized, the downtrodden, the "least of these," and had harsh things to say to the complacent, the wealthy and the powerful: therefore, vote Democrat and usher in the kingdom of God.

The conservative form is: America has forgotten God. Our heritage is a Christian country. We need to elect those who will appoint strict constructionist judges. Here's a voter's guide, which shows why the Republican candidate is always the best choice.

I want to hasten to add that, of these last two options, there is absolutely not moral equivalency. The reason there is not moral equivalency is abortion and associated life issues. If I have to pick between Jim Wallis and Jim Kennedy, it's Jim Kennedy every time, rest his productive soul. Besides, Jim Kennedy did lots of stuff for the poor too, and I don't see the progressive evangelicals doing much more than begrudgingly saying that while life is important, it is not as important as, well, you know, the minimum wage and stuff like that, um er...

Please don't fill the comment box with comments about liberalism and school lunches and poverty. I live in the midst of all that, and believe me, liberalism has done few favors for the poor. Whatever good one can point to, it is far outdone by the harm.

My own position, as you may have guessed, is none of the above. The church can't be quiet. It must be prophetic without being political. If it isn't, stuff like THIS happens, and people get the idea that it is perfectly legitimate to be a Christian and yet be free to form their own opinions about it. Yes, absolutely you can be a Christian and in favor of legalized murder. NO YOU CAN'T. Sorry. You can be a Christian who commits a murder and repents of it. But you absolutely cannot think it's okay. Woe to those who call good evil, and evil good.

You can be a Christian who struggles with homosexual temptation or sex outside marriage and repents of it, but you absolutely are not free to think those things are right. You can't be a Christian and think that it's okay for Mr. Civil Magistrate or Rev. Caspar Mainline Milquetoast to conduct homosexual weddings. Don't call good evil and evil good.

The danger of being political is obvious. First, politicians love to have the church as their patsy --just ask Thomas Beckett. Former friends make heads roll when the church sticks its neck out --sorry, couldn't resist. Conservative Christians elected presidents who gave us Sandra Day O'Connor and Anthony Kennedy and David Souter. Tell me the cause of life advanced with those appointments.

Second, it is very possible for Christians to be duped into thinking that a party with several correct moral positions has all the correct moral positions. Low taxes are equally as important as outlawing abortion. Just for the record: I think taxes should be low, but I would vote for a socialist who would end abortion. No moral equivalency there, either.

Christians have supported all sorts of bad stuff under the banner of the "spirituality of the church." Stuff like this: Dateline 2010, not 1965. That banner cannot continue to fly. Let's take it down and hide it in the closet. Better yet, let's take it out, stomp on it, and burn it for all the world to see.

The gospel sets people free, but not apart from the truth. Jesus spoke the whole truth, and was the embodiment of the gospel. He offended people all the time, yet his sheep heard his voice. Why should we be afraid that we might offend someone away from God by speaking his own truth? Who knows, they might just get convicted of sin, and seek the Savior.

Accountability, Christian Friendships, and Holiness that Transcends Behavior

2010-08-24T08:50:00.000-07:00

Perhaps fueled by the Sonship movement that was prevalent in the PCA in the 80's and 90's, for a long time it was stressed that Christian men needed accountable friendships --another man to whom they could confess anything, and who would hold them accountable for doing the right thing.

Let me state from the first that I think this is a good thing, albeit a difficult one. Men seem to have difficulty forming fast and intimate friendships, particularly in this age when people move about so much. My closest friends are men I rarely see face to face. I don't like this one bit, but it is the way it is.

Yet, as with everything else, we need to make sure we don't confuse a good thing with being the only thing. A man may successfully avoid the pitfalls of lust and greed and the destruction to which they might lead, may treat his wife and children self-sacrificingly well, and may be a generous tither and a devoted churchman and have regular times of study and prayer and still fall far short of godly manhood.

Far too often we have confused holiness with mere behavior: doing and not doing. Yet, Scripture is filled with warnings about doing without being. What do I mean? The fruits of the spirit are not concrete "doing" things --they can't be defined by an accountability list. How are you doing at the love thing? What about the kindness thing? These are matters of the heart. 1 Cor 13 says we can even give our body to be burned (doing in the extreme) and have it all be in vain because of lovelessness (a being thing).

The Christian life is not an easy thing, and accountability is certainly a useful tool towards holiness. It is not, however, the magic pill. No created thing is. This ought to cause us to rely more upon existential connection with the Holy Spirit, who alone can work his true fruits in our lives.

The Church as Community or Speaking God's Yes and No

2010-08-11T08:15:00.001-07:00

Christian community sounds very attractive in today's consumerist world, at least until you try to practice it. Many people would like Christian community to be like an affirmative therapy group, where only sympathy and support are ever given.

Truth be told, Christian community is more like a family. The arena is one of love, but true family love must also involve correction of thoughts and behaviors. The motive behind fatherly discipline of children, however imperfect, is always love. Every parent, however, will make selfish mistakes in discipline: disciplining a child because he has become an annoyance, or has made a public spectacle, rather than patient guiding of the heart. This can happen in the church, too.

When someone steps out on a limb, and attempts to offer some sort of course correction to us, we can have several responses. A common one is resentment: "Who does he think he is?" I know this because I have been there. People have dared to come to me, and offered helpful critique. I fumed. I fussed. I self-justified. I took it to God. They were right, and I was humbled, and set about correcting course. Not easy. Not fun.

The most common one in today's church is leaving. Find an easier place, where we can hide. Frankly, this is part of the appeal of the mega-churches. This is not just my inkling; I have heard many people voice this as just their reason for leaving a smaller church, where they had to shoulder some of the burden of leadership, or service, or "everyone being into my business." Biblical community is uncomfortable, and I want to hide from it.

Incidentally, this impulse is behind the failure of many marriages, and the pervasive lonesomeness many feel in our world. We don't want to be hurt; we figure solitariness is safety, and there we can always get our own way, so we cut ourselves off from anyplace where we might have to bend or yield our will to another, or be hurt. In our Wal-Mart culture, it is easy to do. We can go places and be surrounded by more people than ever before, and yet be lonely, because we do not connect.

This shows itself in the virtual world, too. Real relationships are too costly, too messy, and inconvenient, so we enter into a world of artificial reality, where we can project ourselves to be whoever we want, and "befriend" those who ask nothing of us, and who can be "un-friended" at will, and who, incidentally, are not their real selves, either.

I think many Bible-believing churches are succeeding today by speaking only the pleasant truths. When the unpleasant truths are brought to bear upon us personally, then we can assuage our consciences by going to other "Bible-believing" churches where the unpleasant truths are simply ignored, as if by doing so, we can escape God's all-searching gaze. This is a fool's errand. While we can escape scrutiny on our lives for awhile, and perhaps find some rest of conscience, or (worse) a passive acceptance of our self-destructive sinfulness, God always sees.

Life in community is no easy thing. God did not intend for it to be easy. The alternative is Hell --being left alone, with ones' self, to become one's worst self-indulgent, self-destructive self, with a worm that never dies, a fire that never goes out, and a thirst that is never quenched.

But, life in community here will often cause us to cry out for the perfection of the life of community in the world to come. Its very imperfection shows us it is a pale copy of the true. The father's house has not mansions, but rooms. Heaven is a place of dwelling together, shorn of all that makes dwelling together here difficult and painful. Yet, life together here can give us a warm foretaste of glory. Lewis said if we would have pleasure, we must have pain too. That's the deal. Those who cut themselves off from the pain, miss the pleasure. If I never connect to another living soul, I will never face the bereavement of death. If I am a faceless face in a crowd among the people of God, who will ever help me see my own sins and shortcomings, let alone show up with a casserole when I am sick?

God save us from our selfish selves....

Random Morning Thoughts

2010-08-11T06:24:00.001-07:00

When "Thou shouldst" or "Thou mayest" becomes "Thou must," Christian liberty gives way to legalism.

Another thought...

How many people are okay with the church being okay for "sinners," but worry that it will be polluted if it welcomes SINNERS...

Just a few thoughts. I might flesh out later....

The Doctrine of Intended Unintended Consequences

2010-08-09T07:14:00.000-07:00

I don't know who first said it, but it makes sense: Aim at happiness and you will miss it, but aim at virtue and you will quite possibly have happiness thrown in.

The Christian might say: Aim at happiness and you will miss it, but aim at loving submission to God and others, and you will certainly have joy thrown in. It is an intended unintended consequence. The goal really is joy, but the pathway is not selfish pleasure-seeking, but questing after God and following his way.

Church life is similar. Most every church longs to grow. Growth, we think, means health. Indeed, growth can mean health, but it doesn't always mean health. Some trees grow fast, but are structurally weak, and quick to blow over in a storm. Other trees grow slow, but grow strong. It is no accident that the life-cycle of many mega-churches appears to be one generation.

Far too often, churches think they grow by being attractional: having pretty people and offering every possible service: in short, being a "good" church. It is true: churches do grow that way, at least those that are the best at what they offer. The problem is: there can only be one best, by definition.

Yet , God has purposed that there be many churches. Not every church can be the "best." In fact, aiming to be the best is like aiming at happiness --probably the church will fail, because pride attaches itself to being best, like some voracious lamphrey sucking the life out of its host salmon.

The church should concern itself with "doing good" more than "being good." It should be more concerned about becoming a place that employs the saints with works of kingdom service than a place that exists to meet all their felt needs. If we are doing our job as parents, we are not meeting all our children's felt needs. In fact, the good parent knows that the worst thing he could do for his child is meet all his felt needs. The best thing he can do for his child is to love him, and to train him in the primary virtues --the most primary one being, if Calvin is right, self-denial. It goes without saying that this is done in the warm womb of love, support, encouragement, and loving correction. And, it goes without saying that people will have their needs met, even as they are encouraged to give, as well as receive.

If the church is to become even more a place of joy, then it must be about the way of taking up the cross: a place where the self is denied, and we lose ourselves in service. That sounds glorious, until we realize that service may be cleaning up after floods, or teaching elementary Sunday School. Too many people wait for some grand opportunity of heroic self-sacrifice, when "mundane" kingdom service is right in front of them waiting to be done. In fact, the heroic may be just another opportunity for self-indulgence, when the mundane and seeming unimportant task is the one that requires true self-sacrifice.

What is true for individuals is also true for the church. A church that wants to be noticed is seeking the wrong thing. The church should concern herself with doing good, and leave the results up to God. If the church is busy about kingdom activity --doing good to the least of these, proclaiming the gospel, extending the hand of mercy, and so on-- it may please God to grant her growth, or it may not. That is God's concern, not ours. Yet, there will be a sense of kingdom vitality about a church that does good, whereas the "good church" can all appear rather plastic and shallow.

In fact, the church doing good is just the church being the church. The truth is upheld. Works of mercy ratify the truth of the message. The love that grows in the hearts of the people shows they have been born from above. Their self-denial brings about a satisfaction for which they have sought and longed, but never been able to find in the world, and it pours over the edges of their lives and becomes attractive to others.

That is my prayer for my church.

Evening Worship and Why I Like It

2010-07-26T17:41:00.000-07:00

Ever since I was a child, I have enjoyed evening worship. Part of this is nostalgia, but this does not render it any less significant. Journeys with my father to old Fourth Reformed in Grand Rapids, perhaps stopping in to see my grandparents briefly before the "long" 20 minute ride home, conversations less important for their content than the fact they happened. Later in life, the sonorous Bronx accent of Charles W. Krahe, so striking to Midwestern ears, on the Seventh Reformed broadcast on the car radio on treks back to Hillsdale College after weekends at home.

Then, the delight of listening to John R. de Witt at the grand, long, full evening services at Seventh Reformed when I was privileged to serve under him: multiple weeks on the story of Blind Bartimaeus by the roadside begging, expositions of Genesis, chapter by chapter, and the singing of sturdy, old hymns.

In our present context, an informal setting, sometimes with heart-stirring spontaneous prayer, different hymn tunes and instruments than the morning, and folks lingering a good while afterwards in fine Christian fellowship and the cords of love.

I have pleasant associations with evening worship. Yet, that is not the only reason I like evening worship. I would greatly miss it if I served a church that did not worship, whether together, or in small groups in homes, on Sunday evenings.

1.) As many have noted, a Sunday without evening worship can, and often does, become the Lord's hour, not the Lord's Day. I notice this when I travel and stay with family. Our Sabbath evening ritual gives a nice balance to the day, keeps Christ in view, and prepares us for the week ahead.

2.) Evening worship has a different feel and flavor. Even if the format of worship is the same, the timbre of it has always differed at night. I have noticed this from my youth, to my days in seminary at First Presbyterian here, in Virginia, and our evening services at Trinity. Sunday morning has a majestic, rousing feel, and Sunday evenings have a softer, intimate feel.

3.) Compared to our ancestors, we sit under a paltry amount of preaching. Sermons have grown shorter and shorter, and services fewer and fewer. Most churches no longer have midweek prayer and preaching services (we don't either, though I often wish we did). Evening worship gives us another opportunity to hear from God.

I hope no-one will take this as necessarily an indictment against not having evening worship. It is more a plea for an old way that has fallen off in many quarters, and which I, for one, am sad to see go.

Standing Alone: More Lessons from Old Winnie

2010-07-23T17:08:00.000-07:00

I read a lot of biographies, and, take my word for it, Manchester's 2 completed volumes on Churchill (The Last Lion) are without peer. I look forward to the third, which another must complete, Manchester having met his demise.

Of course, he could hardly have had a more interesting subject. The second volume is entitled "Alone." Alone Churchill was. Reading a chronicle of British leadership in the 30's would be comical, if it weren't so sad, and if it hadn't cost millions of lives. The portrait of Churchill is of a titan of a man --greatly flawed, as great men often are. Yet, he was a man of his convictions. He was miraculously prescient in regards to Hitler, and what he would do, when many British weren't so much cowering in fear, but gaping with admiration. The latent anti-Semitism of Britain, coupled with its own sense of defeatism, led Baldwin and Chamberlain, and the vast majority of their elite countrymen not only to kowtow to Hitler, but to help his cause. The Times suppressed the accounts of Kristallnacht, and accounts of the persecution of the church. Anything that did not fit the overriding narrative of peace, and even alliance, with Germany, was suppressed. Edward the Abdicator frolicked with the Fuhrer. The "Dear Vicar," PM Stanley Baldwin, refused to rebuild the nation's defenses while Germany rebuilt the Ruhr, and reclaimed and fortified the Rhineland, all to public acclaim.

Churchill was dumbfounded. Was this the Britain that had won the Great War? The one that caused the Kaiser's government to fall and sue for peace? Churchill had opposed Versailles, and its draconian demands on the German populace. Yet, he saw the same Britain, so merciless at Versailles, now aiding and abetting a country of 70 million people in central Europe, preparing once again to menace its neighbors.

The lesson is this: the right thing is seldom the popular thing. Sometimes it requires being ostracized and standing alone. The difficulty is in knowing when one's opinions are, indeed, in the right. But, as was Churchill's case, sometimes it really isn't that difficult to know. The difficult thing is to stand fast, despite all ostracism and ridicule. The civilized world may not have survived if it hadn't been for Winston Churchill. Because of him, it did.

The Heidelberg and Subjective Religion

2010-07-23T14:55:00.000-07:00

One of the great things about the Reformed understanding of the Christian faith is its emphasis both on the objective (things as they are) and the subjective (what it means for me.) Sometimes, these poles cause friction against one another. Occasionally, people either operate out of reaction against one of the poles, or take one pole to an extreme. But, held together rightly, they are glorious, filled with both comfort and challenge.

Nothing short of Scripture holds the subjective and objective better than the old Heidelberg Catechism. Consider this:

Question 27. What do you understand by the providence of God?

The almighty and ever present power by which God upholds heaven and earth and all creatures, and so rules them that leaves and grass, rain and drought, fruitful and unfruitful years, food and drink, health and sickness, riches and poverty, and everything else, come to us not by chance but from God's sustaining hand.

Question 28. How does the knowledge of God's creation and providence help us?

Answer. We can be patient when things go against us, thankful when things go well, and for the future we can have good confidence in our faithful God and Father that nothing will separate us from God's love. All creatures are so completely in God's hand that without the divine will they can neither move nor be moved.

Positively Davidic. Not pollyannaish. Realistic. Life is hard. Things go wrong, even (and maybe even especially) for the children of God. We are not unmoved movers, but flesh-and-blood being, subject to the tumult of experience.

We act, we suffer, we are morally culpable, and somehow God is sovereign over it all. God is sovereign over suffering --a hard truth that is, but also comforting; how much worse would it be if certain things were out of God's control?

What Christ gives us is hope. Hope for the despairing melancholy. Hope for the person who has made shipwreck of his life. Hope for the one caught in the clutches of thorny rebellion. If we are his he has saved us from the just consequences of our lives, and will save us from all that currently plagues us. If we are not yet his, his hand is out to us to bring us this resilient hope: nothing can separate us from the love of God: peril, tribulation, nakedness, famine, or sword.

Good news.

Mercy, Justice, the Fourth Commandment and the Service Economy

2010-07-11T13:50:00.000-07:00

In which he asks, "Has Sunday morning become a white-collar affair?"

I am struck, in our 24-7 world, at how difficult it would be to bring those who make their living in the service economy into the life of the church. The decline of the concept of a day of rest in our society and among the people of God has created a problem I hear precious few Christians addressing, namely, when is the person who makes his living at Home Depot or Burlington Coat Factory allowed the luxury of a day of rest and worship?

I remember when we were living in VA, an ancient blue law, never enforced, being mocked and ridiculed. The law guaranteed the right of the laborer not to labor on Sunday. In all the rights guaranteed to workers in this day and age, this one is not, and I wonder why the church remains largely silent on it.

We often treat the Fourth Commandment as a private affair: we are not to work, but to rest and worship. It is a gift, not a burden. But, the Fourth Commandment is largely addressed not to the individual, but the one who has others in his employ. It is not just that he is to rest, but his servants, his animals (those whose labor he owns) and his guests.

So, let's say the church does its job and shares the gospel with those in the service economy. When can we incorporate them into worship, into the life of faith? When do they get their day of rest? It is a rather callous response from the church to tell them to find another job --most jobs in the service economy do not come with weekends.

I suggest we do three things. First, perhaps churches need to band together to offer other opportunities to worship than the Lord's Day. This is not making the Lord's Day optional. It is a provision to thos whose schedule is not their own, just as the Christian slaves used to gather after sundown, when their workday was done. It is accomodating a society that has abandoned a day of rest.

Second, we need to speak prophetically to the culture. Christian business owners used to close on Sunday: Truett Cathy is the one remaining example, JC Penney and Sam Walton in not-too-distant memory. Christian workers deserve the freedom to observe their day of rest and worship. In a world in which every accomodation is made to every sort of religious practice and scruple, the First Day observance, joining in the corporate life, worship, and fellowship of the people of God is fundamental to Christian community.

Third, we need to teach on the Lord's Day. We need to present it not primarily as a list of don'ts. It is for man, not man for it. It is for rest, and for worship. Yes, there are things we must do, and things we ought not. But, primarily, it is a day for families to gather in the Family, around the altar of God, call on his name and hear his voice. We have let this great gift be trampled upon by society, and are the poorer for it.

Part of justice for those who are less in command of the culture is just that the church cry out for them to be given a regular Christian Sabbath. Remember the soul of the person who waits on your table next Sunday....

The General Assembly and the Glorious All-Sufficiency of Jesus

2010-07-02T19:34:00.000-07:00

The tendency when one returns from a church meeting is to bewail those votes that did not go one's way, or to bewail the hijinx of one's opponents, etc.

Yet, as I reflected upon it, I am probably more grateful for the PCA now than I have been in awhile. Part of it was just being duly reminded of some great truths by Drs. Duncan and Keller in their presentation.

But, part of it is the glorious irrelevance of the GA. I do not mean that at all in the sense that we do not need each other, we ought not to be connected, etc. I mean it only this way: I will return home, love my family, repent of my sins, and try to minister in Jesus' name to my flock and those around. The man sitting in front of me who voted the opposite on everything will return home, love his family, repent of his sins, and try to minister in Jesus' name to his flock and those around.

And, maybe, just maybe, he learned something from me, and I from him.

That would not be true in many, many denominations. So, I am grateful for the PCA. Our denomination probably grates on all men in every camp from time to time. But, grating is not all bad. It is grating that smooths off rough edges.

I do have repenting to do. Skip Ryan gave a beautiful presentation on the effects of the bondage of sin in his life, and the root of those things being man-pleasing. I see so much of this in myself. I have this inherent desire to agree with whoever I am with at the time. I might agree on most things, but I need to be willing to disagree in love, on occasion, as well! Unity and uniformity are not the same thing. My fear for the PCA is that every group loses sight of this truth.

Jesus is all-sufficient. While I will not step the pulpit this Sunday, my brothers will. Many of them voted completely the opposite of the way I did this past week. Yet, the gospel was not at stake. It was not up for a vote. Policies, procedures, rules, and vision were. Those things are adiaphoral. Christ is pre-eminent. Oh, how I need him.

General Assembly Thus Far

2010-06-29T14:32:00.000-07:00

1.) The human brain has a very hard time processing all the detailed arguments of committee meetings, at least this one does.

2.) GA is a hard place for introverts. I see people I'd love to meet in person, not to schmooze, but inherent shyness makes this difficult.

3.) I think some people unfairly trade off their prominence. I do not think all prominent people do this. God gave some people prominence, and they are generally good stewards of it. Others, not so much. I mean, does the president of the seminary really have to be the first person at the microphone to nominate a chairman? C'mon! I wonder if his evil plan is to take over the PCA --once he is elected to the SJC, his hegemonic power will be complete. Okay, this is tongue in cheek. Sort of.

4.) I am grateful to God to be debating the issues we debate, and not the issues most other churches have to debate. Our big issues are small, unlike those in more mainline denominations.

5.) Good time with friends old and new is a good part of General Assembly. It seems tragic, however, to walk by the Ryman Auditorium every day, and not be going to an Opry...

Quite obviously, my brain is frizzled from long hours in committee. Who ever decided that windowless rooms work well for meetings ought to be shot then hung.

Tim Keller nails it

2010-06-28T05:37:00.001-07:00

If you are interested in the life and the story of the Presbyterian Church in America, you would do well to read this. It is 26 pages, and probably the best and most fair-minded analysis of the PCA, where it came from, and where it is.

At the very least, read from page 19 on.

I agree with Tim's historical analysis, and I am generally on board with this vision of each correcting the other. He says what I have tried to say for a long time, but not nearly as well.

And, I felt convicted.

And, I felt confused, because I feel like a meld of all 3 branches!

Marginalization and The Christ Party in Corinth (or of the PCA GA)

2010-06-26T13:51:00.000-07:00

You know Corinth. It was a very messy church. It reminds us that the church has always had BIG problems. One of the problems was factions, each of whom claimed to follow a man: the Cephas party, the Paul party, the Apollos party (he was such a splendid orator!). And then there was the "Christ" party. I don't know, but I am willing to bet they were the most annoying of all. Kind of like the Church of Christ, who says on the radio here, "Are you tired of man-made creeds? Do you want a church that just follows the Bible? Yes, we're the New Testament church." Every church claims to follow the Bible, which is why we need creeds --but I digress.

Anyway, I stand on the cusp of our annual denominational bacchanal, the General Assembly. And, being of a sociological bent, I always find what people say both regarding and during GA interesting, for it is human nature on display. It is not always what is intended that is most interesting, but the subtext of words that I find interesting. Each of us wants to think that our own motives are pure (the purest!), our own positions are most consistent and well-reasoned, and therefore the other guy stinks.

Perhaps that is even true of me as I write this blog.

What so frustrates me about the PCA, other than our overweening pride, is just the way we marginalize those who disagree with us. If you are a member of the PCA, go and watch this video here. Tell me if you catch him marginalizing those with whom he disagrees. Here's a hint; it's about @ 1:30.

Note well, I do not think President Chapell INTENDS to marginalize. He simply assumes certain things, and his assumptions sneak into his choice of words.

Another example would be found here, paragraph 3. Those who think we need a new strategic plan genuinely believe, as Pastor Robertson does, that it is a needed next step in denominational development. I disagree, and that disagreement is fine. At least it is to me. According to Pastor Robertson, it is not. He writes, " Some are threatened by it as they are by anything new, but over all it is something we must adopt if we will continue to be a leading denomination for biblically faithful churches." To be against the plan, you see, is to be "threatened...by anything new," (and yes, I've written George about this).

Other examples can be found across the blogosphere. Conservatives in the PCA fit Jim Hunter's definition of disaffected groups, but those who devised the plan, are spirit-led and prayerful (Vintage73.com). I have no doubt the planners are prayerful and spirit-led, but could this not be equally true of those who dissent? Why must we marginalize?

So, what's the problem? I want to note that my problem is not with the "hungry progressives" because they are progressive. Though my own convictions fall on the conservative side, I do not think that everyone must agree with me. What I detest is marginalizing someone for dissenting: the "I count, you don't count" statement. I would hasten to add that conservatives can be just as guilty of this. It is just that the conservatives are not in power.

The powers that be are presenting a plan that will "unify," but in the process, it becomes apparent that by "unity" they mean "uniformity," or, perhaps, "leaving behind those who disagree." Suppression of dissent is, to my mind, a mark of insecurity.

Even if you're not PCA, and have no idea about the issues, it makes an important point. We each want to cast ourselves as the "Christ" party --above the fray, looking down at those insular, short-sighted, fractious nincompoops who don't understand how to behave in a gospel way. We, the enlightened, are above all this, and if others could just see it our way, they would understand. We are, after all, good men, entrusted with positions of leadership.

As I often point out, whether one is a good man or not is important, but not determinative. I have no doubt that there are many good men with whom I disagree. Being good (and truly there is none good but God, I know a bit of my own heart) and being right are not the same thing. I can be wrong; they can be wrong.

All of this is why my main fear for the PCA is not liberalism or even cultural capitulation. My main fear is that we are a proud lot, and I put myself and my conservative brothers right in the midst of that indictment.

At the same time, I am grateful for our leaders, past and present, who are anything but proud. I had the honor of working for Cortez Cooper, and of counting him as a friend and mentor. Corty was one of the most prominent and visible men in the PCA in his day. To this day, at almost 80, though he is not as visible at the denominational level, he continues to pastor. He has done interim work at churches of over 2000, and of churches of 20. He has labored in places as diverse as Greenwood, MS, St. Louis and Narrows, VA. He goes where he is called, preaches to presidents, stock car drivers, sturdy mountain folk and catfish farmers. He is a humble, godly man. I pray that many of our more prominent men might manifest the spirit of a Corty Cooper, and not think of themselves more highly than they ought.

Me included.

Of Cultures

2010-06-01T09:31:00.001-07:00

This gem from James Davison Hunter's very intriguing latest title, To Change the World, p. 102:

Law increases as cultural consensus decreases.

True in society, but true in denominations too? Do we desire to tighten by means of verbiage what we cannot attain by means of consensus? And is such a project doomed to failure? Are we headed towards an ever more fragmented and litigious future in the PCA?

Thoughts?

I'm Writing a "Book"

2010-05-27T08:22:00.000-07:00

Book is in quotes because I don't know that it will be worthy of publication, or that any publisher will be interested in it. I'm doing because my session granted me a 3 month sabbatical, and it gives me purpose and a drive to learn.

The book doesn't have a title, but it does have an aspiration. It is a book that I would love to be helpful to the average person in the pew who asks, "What is covenant theology?" The Reformed world has tons of books on the so-called 5 points of Calvinism. But, it doesn't have a ton of books on this topic. There are a few, but I don't resonate with any of them.

Here are some lessons I'm learning:

1.) You must write a book for yourself only. What I mean is: you have to see it as valuable for its own sake, even if nobody else cares one thing about it, or reads it. I am writing to help my own thinking and devotional life. I am writing to learn, and writing, just like reading, helps you formulate, synthesize, and express ideas, which is the preacher's job.

2.) Writing a book shows you immediately how dumb you are. Writing a book means reading a lot of other people's books --people who are smarter than you are, and who write better. This is a good thing. I am learning a lot.

3.) Writing a book is hard work. It involves wrestling with ideas, and how to communicate them. It involves asking others to tear your work apart, which is akin to asking someone to shoot your favorite dog. You do this because you know what you mean, but other people may not, and the point is that you would express yourself clearly to others.

4.) Writing a book is lonely. I am an introvert, not a recluse. I am learning that about myself. An introvert needs some close friends who care about the things he cares about, with whom he can banter: think Lewis and his beloved Inklings. But, book writing means being somewhat sequestered, like a monk.

5.) Humanly speaking, writing a book is pointless. Writing a theological book won't bring you glory, most likely. When I was at T4G, the book room was overwhelming --just the sheer number of titles. I agree with old Solomon: many books are a wearing thing. Far too many of them say what has already been said better, by someone else, somewhere else. Even if you clear the publication hurdle, you become just one more book among thousands. You cannot write because you want to be noticed. You must write on the off chance that, should the book make it to market, it might be helpful to someone.

Triumphing Over Damaging Circumstances

2010-05-24T08:33:00.000-07:00

I am in the thick of reading Manchester's incredible biography of Winston Churchill. There are many life lessons in the book, not the least of which is the power of the human will to triumph over devastating circumstances.

It is hard to imagine a more difficult home life than that endured by young Churchill. His father, Randolph, was descended from nobility, and one of the most famous statesmen of his day. As a young man, he was drugged at a party, and awakened in the bed of a syphilitic prostitute. In that day, there were few treatments and no cure for that horrendous disease. Syphilis gnaws at the body, and then at the mind. It claimed Randolph's life at a young age, but not before it brought about his almost total public disgrace.

Not only was Randolph a somewhat pathetic public figure, he was as an awful father, who did little to disguise his open dislike for his son, even from his earliest days.

Many children with one antagonistic parent can take refuge in the arms of the other, but this too was denied young Winston. Winston's mother, Jennie, was a New York socialite, with a wanton sexual appetite. Even in Victorian England, there was open sexual promiscuity among the nobility, and Jennie made no pretense about hiding her numerous paramours from her husband, children, or society at large.

Neither Randolph nor Jennie had much interest in their son, and, even if they had, the norm for young gentlemen was miserable boarding school. Winston's plaintive letters home are pleas for visits and affections, neither of which he got.

Yet, as children in such families often do, he lionized his father, and worshipped his mother. It is a mark of the implantation of the divine on us that, even when we have no model for what family life ought to be like, there is something innate in us that recognizes when it is horribly wrong.

It would be foolish to argue that Winston was unaffected by his parents. In fact, the evidence shows quite the opposite. He was a worthless and pig-headed student, perennially in trouble with whatever schoolmaster or marm was in charge of him. And, the deep melancholy of his adulthood perhaps could be blamed on the relational frigidity of his upbringing.

But, this is Churchill we are talking about --one of the greatest men of history, the man of indomitable courage, the square-jawed opponent of Hitler, the one man whose eloquence and spirit could raise the weary heads of the beleaguered Brits during the blitz. We might say he transcended his upbringing --and doubtless there is truth to that. We might also say that his upbringing was inescapably part of him, that it actually helped to forge his character.

We often tend to treat people as if they are damaged goods --simply the victims of forces beyond their control, helpless, and incurably wounded by what they have done, and what has been done to them. I am not at all calloused to the wounds of others, but what I am saying is that God will not only help us transcend circumstances, but, in his sovereign control over every painful circumstance, he redeems the pain, to make us even more useful people.

David's young life was fraught with pain, but God redeemed his circumstances to build him into a man after God's own heart. Joseph, too. Jacob knew hurtful rejection by one parent. And, above all, Christ was rejected by his own Father on our behalf.

So, take a lesson from old Winnie. Chin up, good man. You are not the product of your experiences, but the child of the living God, and he will strengthen you to make you useful to him --the highest call of all.

To Preachers: Boring Your People Is a Sin, So Stop It.

2010-05-13T12:36:00.001-07:00

Good stuff from Russell Moore of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. It is a mystifying thing why something as exciting as the history of redemption is turned by many an orthodox preacher into something boring. It is also a mystifying thing why something on which all eternity for individuals hinges is so often preached as if nothing is at stake.

Maybe preachers need to think about sermons less, and think about preaching more, not in such a way to turn them into polished orators with affected methods of speaking, but rather a basic understanding of what preaching is.

Is preaching expositing a text? Yes, it is. Without a text, we have no message to bring to our people. But, there is much expositing that doesn't qualify as preaching.

I have the great privilege of meeting with several seminarians regularly. What I am trying to get them to see is the romance of preaching, the art of preaching, the joy of preaching --the sort of preaching touted by old liberal Fred B. Craddock in his book Preaching or by old conservative Willie Still in The Work of the Pastor or by Lloyd-Jones, or Fred Lybrand or others.

And that is this: not preaching that sounds one particular way, or follows one particular method, but is, at least in part, what Phillips Brooks called "Truth mediated through personality." It can take a myriad of different forms. Two of my favorites are Sinclair Ferguson and John Piper. Their styles could not be more different, but the ethos they show forth is the same. If I were to journey outside my own Reformed camp, I would cite the ethos of Tozer (the portrait above), or of Jim Cymbala or of David Wilkerson or of Len Ravenhill. The truth can be shouted, and it can be whispered. The cry of "sound the alarm" from the rooftops can rouse the sleeper to action, but so can the anguished whisper that comes in the middle of the night. We can be roused with a shout; we can be wooed in a whisper.

Ethos is a slippery thing upon which to get a grip, to be sure. But, preaching must manifest a sacred thirst, a holy desperation, the spirit of Psalm 42. It must have an urgency, and a vitality to it. I have come to think it is more about lifting a text off a page, than it is driving people into a text. It is heralding it forth before hearers --holding it up to their faces so they might see it, smell it, and taste it, as well as hear it.

The Scriptures are a fascinating story. The language is sensual: there is blood and illicit behaviors, and jarring grotesque imagery, as well as profound beauty, and affecting human drama. There are truths that confront us, and poetry that soothes us. There are warnings, and there is inestimable comfort. Most of all, there is a call: the call to stand in God's holy presence, clad in the righteous robe of his Son, to both come away from the world, and to be pressed back into the world, to serve the world in the name of its Creator. Is it a radical thing to say our sermons ought to be filled with the sound of Scripture, as well as the substance of Scripture?

And the worst thing we can do to a book like that is to make it boring. My friend and mentor J. R. de Witt often cited his own homiletics professor who said, "It is no sin to be interesting." May every preacher heed those words today.

Should We Hold All the Truth with Equal Tenacity?

2010-05-05T08:06:00.000-07:00

Short answer: We should not.

Long answer: Picture a man living in a city-state. This man is opposed to two things currently against the law: smoking in public buildings, and human trafficking.

There are several groups in the city, working for change. One group thinks it is wrong to ban smoking --that it ought to be up to the business owners, and not the city, to make that determination. The other group is working to make human trafficking legal.

The man who opposes both --should he equate the two issues? Should he be at every city council meeting arguing, "Smoking in public is a tantamount evil to human trafficking." Should he spend his fire on both issues?

To my fellow PCA conservatives: not all issues are created equal. Yesterday, at Presbytery, tearful arguments were made that the PCA was founded to stand against two things: alternate views of creation days, and prohibiting women deaconesses.

Really? Because if I thought those were the issues behind the PCA's founding, I would have stayed in the RCA, thank you very much. I thought the issues were, oh, I don't know, the inerrancy of Scripture, the resurrection, the doctrines of grace.

It is a sad character flaw to treat all issues as if they were equally ultimate. B.B. Warfield, the champion of inerrancy and doctrinal fidelity, believed in deaconesses. J. Gresham Machen, the champion of the fundamentals and truth of Scripture, was not a 6/24 man. Neither was Charles Hodge.

The truth is: we are losing the battles for what is important by fighting battles over what is unimportant. And, quite frankly, it is tearing at the fabric of the PCA.

I will fight battles. I am involved in one now, over an issue that I believe pertains to the gospel of free grace itself. But, that is an important battle. Far more important than these little ones that invite scorn and derision, and drive thoughtful men away from, and not towards, the conservative cause.

God help us all.

The Whole Work of Christ Apprehended by Faith Is the Gospel

2010-04-26T07:51:00.000-07:00

I fear that there is significant alteration and misunderstanding of the gospel being propagated in our day, from pulpits evangelical and non. The gospel is a simple, clear thing, and anyone who makes it complicated, denies it.

The complicating of the gospel centers upon what theologians call the imputed righteousness of Christ. One simply cannot deny the imputation of Christ's obedience and death and be saved. Do not be scared away from these words, because, if you are truly a Christian, you know precisely what they mean, though you might use different words. They simply mean this:

"God justifies the ungodly." (Romans 4:5)

And this:

Philippians 3:8-9 Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith -

Notice: God does not save the righteous, or the godly, but the ungodly and the un-righteous.

In short, if I am to be saved, I need someone else's righteousness, a righteousness from outside myself. I do not need someone to make up for my shortcomings, I do not need someone who simply pays for my failures. If I would come to God, I must give up every pretense of my own goodness, and reach up to Christ with empty, sin-stained hands, and grab hold of him and his righteousness, for he alone has the perfect righteousness that is worthy of God's acceptance and approval.

Some are saying we will be saved by our faithfulness. Some are saying we are saved by our own righteousness. Some are saying we are saved the same way Adam was --by faithful obedience. Brothers and sisters, sin renders this an impossibility. At my best, I am only an unprofitable servant. God does not save me based on my fidelity to his covenant --as Turretin says it, I am saved by obedience and faith: by Christ's obedience and through my faith. And, it must be stressed, that faith does not in any way render me worth saving. It is nothing but the outstretched hand to God to save me --and that not of myself, it is a gift of God.

Do not let go of this. It is the gospel. Sinclair Ferguson says it like no other.

The gospel and people who need it...

2010-04-21T08:50:00.000-07:00

.

Johnny keeps preaching, from the grave, as it were...

How Great Sinners can be Great Saints

2010-04-21T06:31:00.000-07:00

This is my son, Nathaniel, and, he is a great sinner. Of all of our children, he is the most challenging. When he is around, the house is a swirl of activity around him. Never one to self-occupy, he keeps everything stirred up, for the good, and for the bad.

He could not be wired more differently than I in terms of interests and abilities. Already, his athletic prowess outstrips mine. He is active and driven. In other ways, we are very similar: easily disappointed and frustrated, with a tendency to pout.

But, he is also one of the most natural evangelists I have ever seen. He goes to public school. He tells his friends about God. My wife overheard him in the car talking to his un-churched friend about how to pray. He strikes up conversations about creation with his friends. O God, may he not lose this when he becomes a teenager!

He is a great sinner. But, of all of our children, he seems most to realize his sin, be truly sorry for it, and struggle with it before God. He shows me the truth of simil iustus et peccator (Augustine's description of a Christian, "At the same time righteous and a sinner."). As exhausting as he can be, he is an example to me, too.

Conferences and Reality

2010-04-20T06:51:00.000-07:00

I have just returned from the biennial Together for the Gospel Conference. It was edifying and refreshing just to sing praise and sit under fine preaching, particularly John Piper on imputation as the heart of the gospel, Lig Duncan who has the singular ability to edify us out of the patristics, and C.J. Mahaney on the work of the ordinary pastor.

The last is significant. As I have confessed before, my constant temptation is to compare my work with others. I often feel like I labor as a pygmy in the land of giants in Jackson, and a man without a country in the PCA. These are not easy things for prideful, foolish, and melancholy flesh to endure. Yet, CJ, in his unique blend of poignancy, humor, and hard-hitting application, told me just what I needed to hear --both in way of correction and encouragement. May I own what he had to say.

Why? Because life in the church (in its local, and connectional aspects) is tough, wherever you are. There are burdens to be borne. The alluring temptation is to think that the titans have no struggles or shortcomings. But, I've worked for a few titans, and struggle they do and shortcomings they have! They are human, too. And they must bleed for their churches, too.

We must believe the church is glorious, because God tells us that it is. Occasionally, we glimpse that glory. We glimpse it when someone is kind to us, when someone prays with us, or speaks in an edifying way to us. But the church is not perfected yet. It stumbles about blindly in the darkness a lot, getting cut and torn and bruised. It is silly in its pridefulness. It is childish in its wants and needs.

Yet, Jesus loves it. And we should too.

I Wonder If Any Other Preachers Notice This

2010-04-08T08:57:00.000-07:00

The scary prospect of having to live out the reality of the struggle presented in an upcoming text.

True Confession time: I've been struggling with jealousy and discontentment when I relate the relative size and notoriety of my ministry to that of others. Probably most if not all ministers have struggled with this.

But, it particularly comes home in Matthew 19, where Jesus is telling his disciples not to worry about his reward to others, but to do their work, without looking over their shoulders at the work or rewards of others.

The difficulty with this is one feels hypocritical for preaching on such a text.

But, in God's plan, perhaps this is how it must be --that we empathize with our hearers, that the text works us over first (never a comfortable thing) so that we, like those who gather, sit under the text along with our people.

Thoughts, from clergy or laity?

He Turned the Water Into Wine.

2010-04-07T07:30:00.000-07:00

Mars Hill Church Seattle on Johnny Cash and Jesus...

What would it take to be a church for the likes of Johnny Cash?

I wish I could "preach" like Johnny, and reach the people Johnny reached.

Some clips from one of the most moving TV events of all time: Johnny Cash live at San Quentin. Listen to the prisoners. Do you see yourself looking back at you? I wonder how many of those who listened to Johnny that night are still alive?

Death Row, and Peace in the Valley...Interviewing both a death row inmate, and a guard. Poignant, moving stuff.

It's Too Easy

2010-04-04T06:59:00.000-07:00

To want to be loved and accepted by one's ministerial peers, so that we never speak the truth, in love, or do or say anything that might make us unpopular or get us labeled as a troublemaker...

And, conversely,

To want to stand above and critique our ministerial peers, to feel like a pariah, and take some measure of satisfaction and damning pride in the fact that I get it and they don't...

I love C. S. Lewis's "The Inner Ring." Great advice for ministers, and all of us.

But, it still doesn't solve the problem!

The Dutch Reformed Guy In Presbyterian Exile

2010-04-01T08:42:00.000-07:00

I hope it will not get me defrocked by the Mississippi Valley Presbytery, but I am at long last willing to come out and say "I prefer the Heidelberg Catechism to the Westminster Catechisms!" Whew. What a relief. Let the chips fall where they may.

Why do I prefer Heidelberg? Well, firstly, because it wasn't written by committee. Shakespeare could not have been written by committee, nor could Psalm 103. They would have had lots of provisos and wherefores. The Heidelberg was written primarily by one man --a pastor scholar. Westminster was written by committee.

Now, thankfully, there are some beautiful and affecting passages in Westminster, on adoption and (surprisingly) the power of sin.

But, mostly I like Heidelberg because it is personal and subjective. Among many other struggles we have in the Reformed community is the struggle between the subjective and the objective. It is quite possible to err on either side. But, I do fear that many who claim the name of Reformed Christian are afraid of anything subjective --over-reacting against the subjectivism of the age, and the evangelical church at large.

Heidelberg is subjective in all the right ways. It is subjective in that it begins with "What is your only comfort in life and in death?" and answers it, "That I am not my own, but belong body and soul, both in life and in death to my faithful savior, Jesus Christ..." It is beautifully subjective in its definition of saving faith --that is without peer. "not only certain knowledge but also a hearty trust not only unto others, but to me also forgiveness of sins...given freely by God, merely of grace, and only for the sake of Christ's merits.

What do I see missing in so many places and people? Just the "not only to others, but to me also" part of faith. We can own a lot of truth, and fall short of Jesus. Not only certain knowledge, but also hearty trust, not only to others, but to me also, merely of grace.

Repellent Sins

2010-04-01T06:28:00.001-07:00

Reservations for Doug and Wendy Whiner!!!

There can be no question that there are attractive sins, probably what the author of Hebrews had in mind when he talked about Moses forsaking "the pleasures of sin for a season." No need to list what these are!

But, there is another class of sin about which it is difficult to see the attraction, because misery seems to be at their very core, and, instead of attracting others, they repel them.

A bitter spirit. A lying tongue. Self-pity. Complaining and whining. Discontent.

Now, no doubt, these have their own twisted pleasure, but it is twisted indeed. Being the unfortunate inheritor of a very melancholy disposition, I see myself as particularly prone to the last three, and wrestle against them daily. I am not without significant sin in this regard.

In the church, there are often people who have a list of complaints. A lot of times, these complaints have some basis in fact. But, usually they are about matters of no consequence. Satisfy the complaints of such people, and they simply tack more on to the bottom of their list.

I have dealt with embittered people too --those who have been hurt or wronged, and lock themselves in the sarcastic prison-house of their own sense of having been greatly wronged. They are actually tortured and imprisoned by themselves, and take a perverse pleasure in having been wronged --as if their harbor of resentment against those who wronged them is somehow wreaking vengeance upon their tormentor. In truth, these are just sad folks, and end up repelling all around them.

What other sins are inherently repelling? And what can we do about them?

I've lost my muse

2010-03-31T12:05:00.000-07:00

Some have wondered why my blog has gone dark. The truth is, my muse has gone missing.

If anyone has seen him, tell him to get back to work. I want to write again!

But, alas. He comes and goes as he pleases. I only hope he's not dead!!

The High Cost of Doing Nothing

2010-03-08T09:29:00.001-08:00

I stumbled across an incredibly moving program on CNN Saturday Night. Christiane Amanpour was hosting a show entitled "Genocide" -- a survey of the mass ethnic slaughters that have taken place since the term was invented in the mid-twentieth century. Although I missed the first half, I take it she began with Pol Pot and the killing fields of Cambodia --about which I know very little.

Then she surveyed: the Iraqi Kurds, Bosnia, Rwanda, and Darfur, and interviewed those brave individuals who tried to intervene and help, by "crying bloody murder." Several did this at great personal cost. And, as so often is the case, the failure of other powers to intervene led to the wholesale slaughter of not just men, but women, children, infants, and unborn children. The scenes are gut-wrenching in the extreme, but important.

The most affecting scene was the head of UN "forces" in Rwanda, a Canadian. Before the slaughter of the Tutsi broke out, this man had asked for 4,500 troops. He was granted 2,600, and a very limited mandate. As the slaughter began to unfold, his troop force was cut to 260. It became impossible even to rescue women and children from the long knives of the Hutu, and entire families were slaughtered, something on the order of 300,000 souls in a matter of a few weeks. The UN ordered the general to decamp --and he refused. The order, he said, was legal, but immoral. He was bowing to a higher law --the law of all that is just and good and right, no matter how hopeless the cause. He had gone to Rwanda with high hopes, and returned a crushed, bitter and broken spirit --not just because of the carnage he saw, but because the nations of the world had turned a blind eye to the mass slaughter.

The most moving story was of a Tutsi woman. When the carnage broke out, Hutus in her village with whom she had lived her entire life, turned on her family and killed her husband and 5 of her children. When Amanpour asked her how she could cope with such brutality, she said "I am a Christian, and I pray a lot." Then, it showed how she welcomed the murderer of her husband into her house, forgave him, and broke bread with him. She had started a business enterprise with the wife of her family's murderer. The murderer spent time in jail, and came back, and pled for forgiveness for his crimes, and she forgave him. Grace at work.

All of this carnage brought home to me in a new way just how desperate and dark the world is. We hide from it in the western world, where only occasional bad things happen. We might be the victim of a random crime, but even the events of 9-11 pale in comparison with the horror of these genocides. Some Christians would have us turn in and away from the horrors of the world --the church's kingdom is "spiritual," and it has nothing whatever to say about injustice and evil in the world. I think such a position is craven and cowardly in the extreme, cloaked as it may be under the cover of orthodoxy and spirituality.

That Christians may disagree on what is an appropriate response (military, humanitarian, or some mingling of the two), the wrong response is to do what so many of the Orthodox German Lutherans did at the rise of Hitlerism, which is to fold their hands, pray, and do nothing, or, worse, to support unthinkingly the powers that be.

Love the world, pray for the world, and plead the cause of the helpless, pester leaders to do the right thing, rabble rouse for those who cannot take up for themselves, be they the unborn here, or the children of Darfur.

Jean Cauvin on Preachers Who Fuss and those Who Fuss at Them about Fussing

2010-02-22T06:25:00.000-08:00

That's Calvin to you Anglo-philes. Of course that's not Calvin in the photo --there were no cameras in the 1500's! Duh. That's J. Gresham Machen, a personal hero, and a preacher who was wont to fuss.

HT: Tim Bayly

Indeed it is appropriate to repeat here once again what I mentioned before, that fault must not always be found with the servants of Christ, if they are driven with violent force against professed enemies of sound doctrine, unless one is perhaps disposed to accuse the Holy Spirit of lack of moderation. ... the vehemence of holy zeal and of the Holy Spirit in the prophets was like that, and if soft, effeminate men think it stormy, they do not consider how dear and precious God's truth is to Him. (Calvin on Acts 13:10)

Church Hoppers --Quit Dating the Church!

2010-02-21T15:46:00.001-08:00

If you want to have the kind of a church
Like the kind of a church you like,
You needn't slip your clothes in a grip
And start on a long, long hike.
You'll only find what you left behind,
For there's nothing really new.
It's a knock at yourself when you knock your church;
It isn't the church--it's you.

When everything seems to be going wrong,
And trouble seems everywhere brewing;
Just take a look at yourself and say,
"What's the use of being blue?"
Are you doing your "bit" to make things "hit"?
It isn't the church--it's you.

It's really strange sometimes, don't you know,
That things go as well as they do,
When we think of the little--the very small mite--
We add to the work of the few.
We sit, and stand round, and complain of what's done,
And do very little but fuss.
Are we bearing our share of the burdens to bear?
It isn't the church--it's us.

So, if you want to have the kind of church
Like the kind of a church you like,
Put off your guile, and put on your best smile,
And hike, my brother, just hike,
To the work in hand that has to be done--
The work of saving a few.
It isn't the church that is wrong, my boy;
It isn't the church--it's you.

Legalist Preachers

2010-02-13T10:04:00.001-08:00

I do not like this one so well, all he does is yell yell yell. I will not have this one about --when he comes in I put him out!!!

It seems there is afoot in the land a rash of people being rough on preachers.

Nothing new there. But the front is an interesting one: the advance is coming from seminary profs and presidents.

From both the left and the right.

From the right, the disciples of the late MG Kline (who I am sure would be appalled). The tar is that to preach imperatives is to be a legalist who doesn't preach grace or Christ. These men have done good work, particularly against the overly objective, outward and quantifiable crowd (FV to those "in the know").

From the left, the "Christ centered" crowd. Good folk, and I am grateful for them, generally. They don't return the favor, however, I guess. Again, to preach imperatives or cultural mandate is to be tarred a legalist.

Surprising victims include Edwards and Lloyd-Jones.

My own view is that we ought to have apostolic balance: indicative drives imperative. But, imperative cannot be lacking.

I thought we all agreed on that. Apparently, I am wrong. And I am very sorry to be wrong.

What Can You Do for Haiti?

2010-01-25T14:12:00.000-08:00

Maybe just watch this and get some ideas:

With the Haiti earthquake and devastation still on all of our hearts, Bethany Christian Services is inviting you to attend a national webinar called "Haiti & Beyond" to learn more about what you can do to help the many children of Haiti and other countries around the world. We have been overwhelmed and are so appreciative for the thousands of people who have contacted us and are interested in donating, volunteering, taking children into their homes, and so much more to help the children in Haiti.

In response to all of this interest, we will be conducting a webinar from 3 to 4p.m. EST on Wednesday, January 27. There is no charge for this webinar and the login instructions are below. This webinar is open to the public and will be recorded and available to watch online at a later date. As our focus is on finding families to help children, please invite others who may be interested.

If you are unable to attend and would still like to donate to help make sure orphans in Haiti are having their basic needs met, please visit the above website to donate to the Haiti-Earthquake Recovery fund.

To login for the webinar please go here to view the instructions. It will be helpful for you to login by approximately 2:45 p.m. EST. We look forward to having you join us Wednesday afternoon!

What Gets In Front of Your Gospel? Or, the answer to the perennial question, "Who is buried in Grant's Tomb?"

2010-01-19T08:06:00.001-08:00

Question, "Who is buried in Grant's Tomb?"
Answer, "Who cares?'

I have lived in the South for 14 of the last 16 years, and in the deep South for 9 of those years. So, I know about, and have experienced a bit, the race issue. I know, for instance, that not all Southerners are racists, nor were they in the past. I know that all racism is not of one kind, either. And, I know that many, if not most, Southern white folk would love to leave the race issue far in the rear view mirror. It is an embarrassment, a blot on an otherwise fine region of the country.

But, then there is always the sad spectacle of what happens on and around Martin Luther King Day. And, I am trying to understand that. The news headlines inevitably and appropriately focus on the King day celebration. Flawed prophet that he was (as all prophets are flawed), he led a movement that ended segregation in the South, and elsewhere.

Living in an impoverished city that is majority African American, I know that post-desegregation history has not been all sweetness and light, for white or black. Officially desegregated whites often segregated themselves by income into suburbs and private education.

But, as a suburbanite, I rejoice that my children had an African American principal, and my son had a fine African-American teacher. It does my heart good to go to a school and see not only black children and white children, but Asians and Indians. And, this in Mississippi. This is good.

But, the jarring reality of life in the New South still includes the matter of race and history. How bizarre that, while many gather to celebrate the achievements of Dr. King and those who followed him, a small group of Southerners get misty eyed around the Confederate battle flag, and commemorate Robert E. Lee?

The South, more than any other region of the country, is a place captivated by wispy, romanticized myth --think Gone with the Wind, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, and almost anything written about New Orleans. Southerners romanticize the past. That is not to say that most people long for the days of manorial estates, hoop skirts, cotillions, and Negro spirituals wafting up from the slave quarters. No, we live in the twenty-first century, but southerners do look at the past under a romantic patina --glossing over the ugliness of slavery, and fire hoses, and murdered children without justice for decades.

Just as in our own lives, we need to look deep into our own hearts, and come to terms with our own sin, I think that each region of the country needs to look its past full in the face. We need to understand our presuppositions, our opinion-forming myths, and be able to look at these in the light of the gospel.

The Southerner immediately protests that the North was godless, Unitarian, heartless, and just as racist, and that the federal government grew tyrannical. The case can be made. What's the difference? The North doesn't celebrate U. S. Grant. Even the celebrations of Lincoln are not pseudo-religious in nature any more. He gets (rightful) credit for freeing the slaves. Nobody weeps at Grant's tomb.

And, they will also often protest that the Civil War was not about slavery. That claim is not completely without merit. The Civil War was the product of many influences and much history, and not about one thing. Mostly, it was about wounded honor, I think, as I hope to demonstrate below.

One of my college history professors explained the Late Unpleasantness in terms of the civil strife between the Cavaliers and Roundheads in Merry Olde England. England was not so merry in the seventeenth century. Kings and Queens rose up and slaughtered Protestants, Protestants beheaded kings. The Roundheads were the followers of Cromwell --Puritans, merchant and middle class, untitled rising wealth. They were, in short, Yankees. They settled Massachusetts, Connecticut, and all of New England. The kings were ready to be rid of them --let them have their Holy Commonwealth. The Puritans developed (or were heir to) a culture built on justice --it is not hard to see where John Adams got his sentiment "A republic of laws, and not of men."

The Cavaliers were the landed nobility, the warriors of the status quo. And, cavalier culture was built not on justice, but honor. Losing face was the cardinal sin. The loss of honor was a stain that lasted throughout generations. And, the Cavaliers shaped the cultural mythos of the South --though they themselves were soon outstripped in numbers by the Scots and others. People are at a loss to explain the contradiction that was Thomas Jefferson --against slavery, but holding and profiting from and likely fathering children with, slaves. Or to explain the contradiction that was Strom Thurmond --an outspoken segregationist who carried on a torrid love affair with an African American.

But, these are no strange things in an honor culture. Look at Italy and omerta, or the Middle East with its ancient grudges and self-immolating zeal for honor , and one will again see similarities. Justice societies think in terms of guilt or innocence, right or wrong. Honor societies think in terms of offense or shame --why Arab fathers will murder their own daughters for dressing too provocatively. Sin is not guilt measured by an impersonal standard so much as it is betrayal against a person.

All of this explains why the War of Northern Aggression still sits so heavily on the Southern heart. It is not just a matter of a lost war, but the overweening vengeance of the victor in the period after the war. Grant and Lincoln were far more favorably disposed towards rebuilding the South than the Radical Republicans were --and they did no Southerner, black or white, any good.

And, it also explains the Klan (which was despised by most patrician Southerners, and opposed heroically by some) and George Wallace (who, again patrician Southerners despised), and why Emmett Till and Medgar Evers didn't get justice for thirty years or more, and why a Detroit housewife named Viola Liuzzo was shot in the face.

So some Southerners nurse the wounded pride of the lost cause. But, let's be clear about what that cause was. It was a cause of building wealth off another man's labor. It was the cause of breeding humans like livestock, of stealing children from tribe and family, of splitting up families, of opposing evangelization of the slave population, of rape and beatings. And, in the twentieth century, it was the cause of bombing churches and murdering little girls in a church, and murdering anyone working for change, and barring entrance to universities because they had the temerity to eat at a lunch counter or not move to the back of the bus or enroll at Ole Miss, that halcyon and hallowed institution.

And, the question, after all this, is, "Christian, is Robert E. Lee worth putting in front of the gospel?" Lee was a man of sterling character, a person worthy of esteem in many regards, a true gentleman and a Christian. But, none of that matters now. If the white church holds him up as some sort of paragon of Christian virtue, what are our chances for reaching our African-American neighbors with the gospel?

Some will protest that this is "their" problem, if it offends "them." Scripture says we ought not to eat meat if by our eating we destroy our brother for whom Christ died. And, more pointedly, Scripture says that race pride is a practical denial of the gospel, and that those who practice it within the church may just forfeit the kingdom.

I love the South and its history. I labor to understand it. I think it needs to look its history square in the face, and by the power of the gospel, turn away from it.