We tend to drink in destructive untruths and half-truths about God with the cultural water. A famous one is that God will not place on us more than we can bear. That is absolutely false, and the Bible nowhere says it. Throughout Scripture, we routinely see God placing more on people than they can bear, so they will learn to rely on him fully, deeply, and experientially. God's call to Abraham to sacrifice beloved Isaac, David's loss of an infant son, and then a grown rebellious one, Jacob's loss of Joseph --deep griefs all, and more than any human can bear.
A related destructive untruth is that God charts suffering on the course of believer's lives to "teach them lessons," as if God is some cosmic schoolmarm, with a huge ruler, just waiting to rap the knuckles of pupils that are dullards. This is an un-Biblical notion of God, and it is from the pit, designed to rob believers of the beautiful comfort that comes in belonging to God.
I certainly believe that nothing comes about by accident, and it is equally destructive to say of suffering, "God had nothing to do with this." The question is, then, what is God's purpose in charting suffering in the lives of those whom he loves?
God is at the bottom of the well of suffering. When all is stripped away, when life with its fleeting pleasures appears as the Vanity Fair that it is, when we are robbed of the comforts of the unpredictable plant, we discover that God is there, and that relationship with and to God is the all-engrossing thing. God plus nothing really is everything: everlasting joy and eternal comfort. Heaven would be grand if all it were was a big empty black room, with God and me in it. He is the all-entrancing, all-engrossing thing, the thing without which life is not worth living, and the One with whom even the hardest life is very heaven. God designs suffering to draw us close to his own breast.
It is true that God sometimes deals out suffering as a discipline for the sins of his people. In other words, sometimes my rebellion against God makes him withdraw his protection of me. But, even in this, God is not standing over and against me, wagging his finger. In fact, his discipline of me is a mark of his love --those whom the Lord loves, he chastens, and reproves every one he calls to be his child. God's discipline is not the discipline of the elementary principal, but of the loving father. It is done in the context of relationship. Even the extreme measures necessary to get the attention of some of his children --the handing over to Satan of the Corinthian offender, for instance-- is done out of love, "for the destruction of his body, and the salvation of his soul." God will bring his children back.
So, if you belong to God by faith in Christ, know that he loves you, and will never cast you off. You are his child, he is your father. That relationship is invincible, it is impossible to forfeit. Yet, if you stray from him, he will make life distinctly unpleasant for you until you return to his fold. And, if he charts suffering in your life, you need not fear, because he is pulling you to himself, and showing you that he is all-sufficient, and relationship to him, with everything else stripped away, is the fullness of joy.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
The Christian and Entertainment
We have come a long way. Abraham Kuyper was one of the most profound and influential Reformed thinkers on matters of faith and life about one hundred years ago. His Lectures on Calvinism served as an impetus for Francis Schaeffer, and through him (and Carl Henry and others), for the whole evangelical move towards forming a comprehensive world-and-life view.
In the Lectures, he writes (and I paraphrase from memory), "On these three things, Calvinism places a distinct veto: dancing, playing cards, and the theatre.")
Not one hundred years later, most Reformed Christians (and others), look back, and think "How quaint." IN a cultural blink, we go from a complete ban on such things, to complete acceptance of them.
Now, don't stop reading, or throw away your Monopoly board. My point is not that Biblically serious Christians cannot dance, play games, or watch shows (movies, televisions, and plays). My point is that we need to start thinking about what we watch. Somewhere, we have gotten the idea that we can dredge about in the muck and dreck of the world for hour after hour during the week, and still think and act and feel Christianly?
Some Christians have over-reacted, and, as is always predictable with overreaction, fallen short. Some Christians will only read Christian literature, watch Christian movies, or listen to Christian music --almost all of which is junk, by any definition. I don't think it is providential accident that most good art and literature has not been done by Christians. But, that is a post for another time.
The question for today is: what may a Christian enjoy, of the world's entertainments? Is it wrong to listen to Beethoven, to read Twain, or to watch Spielberg?
Because of common grace, no. In other words, the world has some comprehension of truth and beauty, and God has gifted some unbelievers the ability to reflect his truth and beauty in profound ways.
But, as Christians, we need to think. All things are lawful, but not all things are profitable.
So, to wit, a few humble guidelines:
1.) Does this skew my moral compass? Does it cause me, even if only during the duration of the show/movie to call evil good, and good evil? For instance, did I cheer for Jim and Pam on the Office when they found out she was pregnant?
The great danger today is the normalization of homosexuality in media, in both drama (House, now Heroes), and comedy (The Office, Arrested Development). How will this shape the thinking of young people who watch these shows? How is it affecting ours?
2.) Does the show cause me to have the appropriate response to sin and tragedy? In other words, like Schindler's List, does it cause revulsion at evil, or do I end up cheering for morally ambiguous characters?
3.) Does it draw me into the sin? Nudity and sexual scenes in movies actually involve us in lust in a way that a murder on screen does not involve us in that sin. We find actual sexual pleasure in lust, and ought to avoid all sensual nudity in our entertainment.
4.) Should we avoid any stories with immorality in them? The issue is too subtle. The question is what the obvious intent of the author was. Crime and Punishment powerfully illustrates human depravity, but in a way that appalls us, and makes us averse to it (as only Russian novelists can). Porky's (or more recent incarnations of the same teen sex comedy idea) shows depravity, but in a way that draws us into it.
5.) Should profanity itself be a consideration? This is more difficult. Gratuitous profanity, used simply for its own sake, or for comedic value is certainly out of bounds, "let no unwholesome talk come out of your mouth." Clark Gable's sole profanity in Gone With the Wind was uttered with devastating effect. It was the sentence of condemnation on the frivolity, triviality, self-absorbed and petty evil that was Scarlett O'Hara's life. An aside, we ought to be far more offended by the casual use of God's name ("O My God, Good Lord, Lordy, etc")than we are at scatalogic terms for bodily functions.
There are probably other considerations we can put into an entertainment matrix that will help us. The sad fact is that even these 4 principles will write off many, if not most, shows and movies.
I am being convicted of this in my own life, and thus I share it. Thoughts? There are certainly considerations I have missed, and I would like to know what they are.
In the Lectures, he writes (and I paraphrase from memory), "On these three things, Calvinism places a distinct veto: dancing, playing cards, and the theatre.")
Not one hundred years later, most Reformed Christians (and others), look back, and think "How quaint." IN a cultural blink, we go from a complete ban on such things, to complete acceptance of them.
Now, don't stop reading, or throw away your Monopoly board. My point is not that Biblically serious Christians cannot dance, play games, or watch shows (movies, televisions, and plays). My point is that we need to start thinking about what we watch. Somewhere, we have gotten the idea that we can dredge about in the muck and dreck of the world for hour after hour during the week, and still think and act and feel Christianly?
Some Christians have over-reacted, and, as is always predictable with overreaction, fallen short. Some Christians will only read Christian literature, watch Christian movies, or listen to Christian music --almost all of which is junk, by any definition. I don't think it is providential accident that most good art and literature has not been done by Christians. But, that is a post for another time.
The question for today is: what may a Christian enjoy, of the world's entertainments? Is it wrong to listen to Beethoven, to read Twain, or to watch Spielberg?
Because of common grace, no. In other words, the world has some comprehension of truth and beauty, and God has gifted some unbelievers the ability to reflect his truth and beauty in profound ways.
But, as Christians, we need to think. All things are lawful, but not all things are profitable.
So, to wit, a few humble guidelines:
1.) Does this skew my moral compass? Does it cause me, even if only during the duration of the show/movie to call evil good, and good evil? For instance, did I cheer for Jim and Pam on the Office when they found out she was pregnant?
The great danger today is the normalization of homosexuality in media, in both drama (House, now Heroes), and comedy (The Office, Arrested Development). How will this shape the thinking of young people who watch these shows? How is it affecting ours?
2.) Does the show cause me to have the appropriate response to sin and tragedy? In other words, like Schindler's List, does it cause revulsion at evil, or do I end up cheering for morally ambiguous characters?
3.) Does it draw me into the sin? Nudity and sexual scenes in movies actually involve us in lust in a way that a murder on screen does not involve us in that sin. We find actual sexual pleasure in lust, and ought to avoid all sensual nudity in our entertainment.
4.) Should we avoid any stories with immorality in them? The issue is too subtle. The question is what the obvious intent of the author was. Crime and Punishment powerfully illustrates human depravity, but in a way that appalls us, and makes us averse to it (as only Russian novelists can). Porky's (or more recent incarnations of the same teen sex comedy idea) shows depravity, but in a way that draws us into it.
5.) Should profanity itself be a consideration? This is more difficult. Gratuitous profanity, used simply for its own sake, or for comedic value is certainly out of bounds, "let no unwholesome talk come out of your mouth." Clark Gable's sole profanity in Gone With the Wind was uttered with devastating effect. It was the sentence of condemnation on the frivolity, triviality, self-absorbed and petty evil that was Scarlett O'Hara's life. An aside, we ought to be far more offended by the casual use of God's name ("O My God, Good Lord, Lordy, etc")than we are at scatalogic terms for bodily functions.
There are probably other considerations we can put into an entertainment matrix that will help us. The sad fact is that even these 4 principles will write off many, if not most, shows and movies.
I am being convicted of this in my own life, and thus I share it. Thoughts? There are certainly considerations I have missed, and I would like to know what they are.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Is David Wilkerson Right On?
Not always.
But I think he is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_M2AMGlrMs&feature=PlayList&p=F41380832CD637B1&index=4
Listen. It will do your heart good.
If you have an aversion to passion and tears in the pulpit, you might be put off. But, then I would urge you to examine your own heart.
This is decidedly unfashionable preaching: a sincere man who bares his heart with nothing to gain.
But I think he is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_M2AMGlrMs&feature=PlayList&p=F41380832CD637B1&index=4
Listen. It will do your heart good.
If you have an aversion to passion and tears in the pulpit, you might be put off. But, then I would urge you to examine your own heart.
This is decidedly unfashionable preaching: a sincere man who bares his heart with nothing to gain.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Music in the Worship Service
Some people are music snobs --and they won't sing anything low-brow.
Some people are music cretins --and they won't sing anything high-brow.
Some people are music curators --and they won't sing anything new.
Some people are music dilettantes --they will not sing anything old.
We ought to be none of these things. We ought to sing whatever we are given to sing (as long as it's Biblical) with full voice and heart. Does God deserve anything less than full-throated praise?
And, we ought to be a bit of all these things: we ought to sing high brow and low, old and new.
Some people are music cretins --and they won't sing anything high-brow.
Some people are music curators --and they won't sing anything new.
Some people are music dilettantes --they will not sing anything old.
We ought to be none of these things. We ought to sing whatever we are given to sing (as long as it's Biblical) with full voice and heart. Does God deserve anything less than full-throated praise?
And, we ought to be a bit of all these things: we ought to sing high brow and low, old and new.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Just As I Am...
I am pondering writing a book, and I covet the prayers of any who might read this. I have thought for some time that we in Reformed churches do not understand sin and how to handle it very well at all, and it might deserve a book.
Theologically, we understand sin, and its judicial guilt. What we seem to lack is a sense of sin as a hostage taker --who holds victims in bondage. Thus, when a sinner is caught in any of a small list of sins, we come down on him with both feet, and enact punitive church discipline. We depose from office or suspend from the sacraments.
Both of those things are sometimes necessary. We with-hold the sacraments for the same reason we might excommunicate --as a means of grace in reverse--to show an impenitent sinner what life is like outside the covering of Christ's blood. As Paul said, for the destruction of the body, and the salvation of the soul.
We ought never, therefore, suspend a penitent sinner, or a struggling addict, from the Lord's Supper. He needs that nourishment. We do not come to the Lord's Table to testify that we are without sin, Dordt's Liturgy says, but rather have daily to struggle with the lust of our eyes and the infirmities of our flesh.
But, even in the case of a sinner who initially appears protective of his sin, or, as we might call it, "hard," we ought to work long with him, to see if his heart is indeed hardened. Idolatry is a blinding thing --and it takes supernatural effort for the blind to be brought to sight. Remember the man in Corinth in an incestuous relationship with his step-mother --even he was brought to repentance and restored, with rejoicing.
A church officer becomes entangled in some sin. The first thought we have is the purity of the church: he has lost his fitness for office. I had a friend in another denomination who had a sin issue come to light. It almost cost him his ministry and his marriage. I say almost because the particular denomination he was in determined to rescue him, and restore him. Sounds like Paul in Galatians to me, "If a brother is overtaken in a fault, you who are spiritual should restore him gently, taking great care, lest you too be tempted." There, but for the grace of God, go I, indeed.
In our own denominational context, those who are wounded by Satan in the battle don't fare as well. And I maintain this is because we have too low a view of sin, not because we have too high a view of it, not to mention too low a view of the work of the Spirit, and the healing offered in the cross. We view sin primarily as judicial guilt --the necessary punishment for which is condemnation. But, and especially for the believer, sin is even more a matter of hostile power. The believer who sins, even boldly and repeatedly, is not condemned, but disciplined as a beloved son. Believers who sin cavalierly are denying the Lord who bought them. They are in danger of placing themselves under a yoke of bondage from which Christ has freed them.
Sadly, what begins with a high hand, often becomes a prison from which one longs to escape. If we view sin merely as guilt, then we say, "You made your bed. Now lie in it awhile," or worse, "There is no hope for you." This is doubly disastrous. Disastrous because we give our brother no hope, and disastrous because we have a very light view of our own sin.
The tragedy of this is it keeps sinners from seeking help in the light of day. Sin festers in the darkness. But shame and consequences keep sinners from seeking the very help the church supposedly exists to offer. The level of sin bondage in our churches is mind-numbing. I would encourage a cursory read of Mark Regnerus's fine Forbidden Fruit: Sex and Religion in the Lives of American Teenagers if you don't believe the bondage out there on just that one sin issue. Pornography and attendant evils remain unaddressed because of the great shame that is heaped upon those who are thus enticed --including, now, a large percentage of evangelical Christian men and boys (and, in alarmingly growing numbers, girls and women).
When sin becomes bondage, we call it addiction, and it has grown deep thorny roots in the heart, roots that do not disappear overnight. Simply telling the addict that he is sinning is Law --it does not contain within it the power of deliverance. Helping him sort out his addiction in the light of Christ, and with the help of the Spirit is gospel, and this is the work to which we are called. I would recommend Neil Plantinga's Not the Way It's Supposed to Be: A Breviary of Sin , particularly the chapter "The Tragedy of Addiction"
And, we can lament and condemn and denounce, but if we do that, we are being more righteous than Christ, who came not for the righteous, but sinners, not the well, but the sick. The sick need healing, the sinner needs forgiveness and restoration. He is already "bruised and broken by the Fall."
The sad thing is that our forebears understood this well. They have a full-blown hamartiology that we have abandoned. One thinks of Precious Remedies Against Satan's Devices, or John Owen's On the Mortification of Indwelling Sin.
Augustine, the fountain-head of Reformed Theology after the Apostle Paul, wrote of his own life and death struggle with lust:
The Westminster Confession, 5.5, acknowledges the fearsome power of indwelling sin:
But, we ourselves tend to have adopted the shallower view of sin promoted by Holiness and Keswick teachers --defeat of sin is a relatively easy thing, and if one hasn't accomplished it, it is a defect of faith. (Read J.I. Packer's Keep In Step with The Spirit for his own encounters with this destructive teaching as a young Christian man.
The added tragedy is that we have developed a list of sins that are less serious than others. I have written a lot here about sexual sin, because that is the sin that is first on every evangelical's radar. Sexual sin, and its attendants (such as unbiblical divorce) are at the top of our sin pyramid. In fact, I have never seen anyone disciplined for anything other than sexual sin or divorce. Sexual sin is serious --nobody who has become entangled in it would deny that. Because sex is intended to build relationships, its misuse destroys much. Because it is intended to open the heart, the misdirection of sexual desire callouses the heart.
The issue is not that sexual sin isn't serious. The issue is that other sins are equally (and sometimes more) serious. Pride, censoriousness, an unforgiving spirit, intemperance, gluttony, and lack of charity towards others are destructive interpersonal sins. But, for some reason, all of these are tolerated among the Christian populace, and church officers, too, to our own destruction. They aren't serious: not as serious as substance abuse, a gambling problem, an affair, or sex addiction. Those sins are icky, and we don't like to think about them. But, a lot of successful people (even in ministry) are proud, so it's okay.
But, given that sex sins and these others are serious and lethal. What then? Cancer is serious. Do we take a gun and shoot the cancer patient? No, we spend months and hundreds of thousands of dollars trying to save the person while killing his disease. Are we that devoted in love to those with sin diseases in the heart? Or, does it demand too much of us?
Why do we not acknowledge that God is sovereign over serious and spectacular sins, and can make even these redound to his own glory? Can't the hard fought battle with sin put us in a place of usefulness to help others who are where we once were? Is the church missing out because we shoot our wounded, rather than rehabilitating them?
O God, cleanse us from the guilt and power of sin.
Theologically, we understand sin, and its judicial guilt. What we seem to lack is a sense of sin as a hostage taker --who holds victims in bondage. Thus, when a sinner is caught in any of a small list of sins, we come down on him with both feet, and enact punitive church discipline. We depose from office or suspend from the sacraments.
Both of those things are sometimes necessary. We with-hold the sacraments for the same reason we might excommunicate --as a means of grace in reverse--to show an impenitent sinner what life is like outside the covering of Christ's blood. As Paul said, for the destruction of the body, and the salvation of the soul.
We ought never, therefore, suspend a penitent sinner, or a struggling addict, from the Lord's Supper. He needs that nourishment. We do not come to the Lord's Table to testify that we are without sin, Dordt's Liturgy says, but rather have daily to struggle with the lust of our eyes and the infirmities of our flesh.
But, even in the case of a sinner who initially appears protective of his sin, or, as we might call it, "hard," we ought to work long with him, to see if his heart is indeed hardened. Idolatry is a blinding thing --and it takes supernatural effort for the blind to be brought to sight. Remember the man in Corinth in an incestuous relationship with his step-mother --even he was brought to repentance and restored, with rejoicing.
A church officer becomes entangled in some sin. The first thought we have is the purity of the church: he has lost his fitness for office. I had a friend in another denomination who had a sin issue come to light. It almost cost him his ministry and his marriage. I say almost because the particular denomination he was in determined to rescue him, and restore him. Sounds like Paul in Galatians to me, "If a brother is overtaken in a fault, you who are spiritual should restore him gently, taking great care, lest you too be tempted." There, but for the grace of God, go I, indeed.
In our own denominational context, those who are wounded by Satan in the battle don't fare as well. And I maintain this is because we have too low a view of sin, not because we have too high a view of it, not to mention too low a view of the work of the Spirit, and the healing offered in the cross. We view sin primarily as judicial guilt --the necessary punishment for which is condemnation. But, and especially for the believer, sin is even more a matter of hostile power. The believer who sins, even boldly and repeatedly, is not condemned, but disciplined as a beloved son. Believers who sin cavalierly are denying the Lord who bought them. They are in danger of placing themselves under a yoke of bondage from which Christ has freed them.
Sadly, what begins with a high hand, often becomes a prison from which one longs to escape. If we view sin merely as guilt, then we say, "You made your bed. Now lie in it awhile," or worse, "There is no hope for you." This is doubly disastrous. Disastrous because we give our brother no hope, and disastrous because we have a very light view of our own sin.
The tragedy of this is it keeps sinners from seeking help in the light of day. Sin festers in the darkness. But shame and consequences keep sinners from seeking the very help the church supposedly exists to offer. The level of sin bondage in our churches is mind-numbing. I would encourage a cursory read of Mark Regnerus's fine Forbidden Fruit: Sex and Religion in the Lives of American Teenagers if you don't believe the bondage out there on just that one sin issue. Pornography and attendant evils remain unaddressed because of the great shame that is heaped upon those who are thus enticed --including, now, a large percentage of evangelical Christian men and boys (and, in alarmingly growing numbers, girls and women).
When sin becomes bondage, we call it addiction, and it has grown deep thorny roots in the heart, roots that do not disappear overnight. Simply telling the addict that he is sinning is Law --it does not contain within it the power of deliverance. Helping him sort out his addiction in the light of Christ, and with the help of the Spirit is gospel, and this is the work to which we are called. I would recommend Neil Plantinga's Not the Way It's Supposed to Be: A Breviary of Sin , particularly the chapter "The Tragedy of Addiction"
And, we can lament and condemn and denounce, but if we do that, we are being more righteous than Christ, who came not for the righteous, but sinners, not the well, but the sick. The sick need healing, the sinner needs forgiveness and restoration. He is already "bruised and broken by the Fall."
The sad thing is that our forebears understood this well. They have a full-blown hamartiology that we have abandoned. One thinks of Precious Remedies Against Satan's Devices, or John Owen's On the Mortification of Indwelling Sin.
Augustine, the fountain-head of Reformed Theology after the Apostle Paul, wrote of his own life and death struggle with lust:
I was bound not by an iron imposed by anyone else but by the iron of my own choice. The enemy had a grip on my will and so made a chain for me to hold me a prisoner. The consequence of a distorted will is passion. By servitude to passion, habit is formed, and habit to which there is no resistance becomes necessity. By these links...connected one to another...a harsh bondage held me under restraint.
The Westminster Confession, 5.5, acknowledges the fearsome power of indwelling sin:
5.5 The most wise, righteous, and gracious God doth oftentimes leave, for a season, His own children to manifold temptations, and the corruption of their own hearts, to chastise them for their former sins, or to discover unto them the hidden strength of corruption and deceitfulness of their hearts, that they may be humbled;(1) and, to raise them to a more close and constant dependence for their support upon Himself, and to make them more watchful against all future occasions of sin, and for sundry other just and holy ends.
But, we ourselves tend to have adopted the shallower view of sin promoted by Holiness and Keswick teachers --defeat of sin is a relatively easy thing, and if one hasn't accomplished it, it is a defect of faith. (Read J.I. Packer's Keep In Step with The Spirit for his own encounters with this destructive teaching as a young Christian man.
The added tragedy is that we have developed a list of sins that are less serious than others. I have written a lot here about sexual sin, because that is the sin that is first on every evangelical's radar. Sexual sin, and its attendants (such as unbiblical divorce) are at the top of our sin pyramid. In fact, I have never seen anyone disciplined for anything other than sexual sin or divorce. Sexual sin is serious --nobody who has become entangled in it would deny that. Because sex is intended to build relationships, its misuse destroys much. Because it is intended to open the heart, the misdirection of sexual desire callouses the heart.
The issue is not that sexual sin isn't serious. The issue is that other sins are equally (and sometimes more) serious. Pride, censoriousness, an unforgiving spirit, intemperance, gluttony, and lack of charity towards others are destructive interpersonal sins. But, for some reason, all of these are tolerated among the Christian populace, and church officers, too, to our own destruction. They aren't serious: not as serious as substance abuse, a gambling problem, an affair, or sex addiction. Those sins are icky, and we don't like to think about them. But, a lot of successful people (even in ministry) are proud, so it's okay.
But, given that sex sins and these others are serious and lethal. What then? Cancer is serious. Do we take a gun and shoot the cancer patient? No, we spend months and hundreds of thousands of dollars trying to save the person while killing his disease. Are we that devoted in love to those with sin diseases in the heart? Or, does it demand too much of us?
Why do we not acknowledge that God is sovereign over serious and spectacular sins, and can make even these redound to his own glory? Can't the hard fought battle with sin put us in a place of usefulness to help others who are where we once were? Is the church missing out because we shoot our wounded, rather than rehabilitating them?
O God, cleanse us from the guilt and power of sin.
Monday, April 20, 2009
A new (to me) thought on election.
It always strikes me as sad that the doctrine of election or predestination has become an issue of contention --primarily, a philosophical point of debate.
The Scriptures do not use election this way. They use it to affirm the Godness of God –his sovereignty. It is not meant to exclude anyone from coming to Christ, or to lead to speculation about who the chosen might be. There are three primary uses, the third of which came to me with clarity this last week. None of these uses, I suppose, is any more or less important than the others. The first use is that it is a doctrine of comfort for the hurting soul, struggling with sin, conviction and assurance. The second use is that it is a doctrine of challenge –allowing us to live boldly and fearlessly for the kingdom of God, knowing that nothing can truly harm us –no-one can separate us from God’s sovereign love. The third use is the one that dawned on me anew this week –the doctrine of election is encouragement for the disenfranchised and downtrodden of the world. “God chose the foolish things of the world to shame those that are wise, and the weak things of world to shame those that are strong…that no-one may glory in his sight.” (1 Cor 1 paraphrase). The early believers, confronted with the glorious reality of Christ, may have puzzled over their low estate in the world. We may still do this. Confronted with the wickedness of the powers that be in the halls of government, high finance, Hollywood, and the like, the ordinary believer may feel powerless and shunted aside. But, in God’s economy, not so. The believer has been chosen by the sovereign of the universe to accomplish his will –a treasure entrusted in a clay jar—to keep us humble, and to make sure the world, in the end, knows that all glory goes to Christ.
The Scriptures do not use election this way. They use it to affirm the Godness of God –his sovereignty. It is not meant to exclude anyone from coming to Christ, or to lead to speculation about who the chosen might be. There are three primary uses, the third of which came to me with clarity this last week. None of these uses, I suppose, is any more or less important than the others. The first use is that it is a doctrine of comfort for the hurting soul, struggling with sin, conviction and assurance. The second use is that it is a doctrine of challenge –allowing us to live boldly and fearlessly for the kingdom of God, knowing that nothing can truly harm us –no-one can separate us from God’s sovereign love. The third use is the one that dawned on me anew this week –the doctrine of election is encouragement for the disenfranchised and downtrodden of the world. “God chose the foolish things of the world to shame those that are wise, and the weak things of world to shame those that are strong…that no-one may glory in his sight.” (1 Cor 1 paraphrase). The early believers, confronted with the glorious reality of Christ, may have puzzled over their low estate in the world. We may still do this. Confronted with the wickedness of the powers that be in the halls of government, high finance, Hollywood, and the like, the ordinary believer may feel powerless and shunted aside. But, in God’s economy, not so. The believer has been chosen by the sovereign of the universe to accomplish his will –a treasure entrusted in a clay jar—to keep us humble, and to make sure the world, in the end, knows that all glory goes to Christ.
The Church a Business? Perish the Thought!
I know the church is not a business, but…. How often have I heard that phrase, and in nearly every church I have served. This is not an argument that the church should not operate on sound fiscal principles, and that many churches do not keep adequate watch over their spending priorities.
That said, the church is not a business in any sense of the word. To think about the church that way is to think about it backward. A business provides a product or service with the goal of making a profit, and therefore gears itself to that end: what will create more customers, a larger market. The business serves, but it expects benefit in return. When the church sees itself as a business, its goal becomes quantitative growth for itself. Success, then, is measured in numbers, nickels and noses. Subtly in some places, and blatantly in others, worship and messages then are judged by the crowds they draw.
The church is never to be measured in this way. It is not to be measured by the people it attracts, but by the message it preaches and the subsequent good it does. These are God’s criteria, and they fill every page of Scripture. The church’s goal, then, ought to be Biblical fidelity and acts of mercy. The love of Christ compels us to this work. And, it is here that the evangelical church has lost its way. When the evangelical church abandoned the city, the city began to rot. Sometimes, evangelical churches abandon the city even when they remain within its confines.
Hurting people are the harvest field. The gospel will bind up their wounds, and be heard by them as good news. If the church concentrates on Biblical truth combined with merciful action, then God will bless it with vitality, joy, contentment, and perhaps even growth.
That said, the church is not a business in any sense of the word. To think about the church that way is to think about it backward. A business provides a product or service with the goal of making a profit, and therefore gears itself to that end: what will create more customers, a larger market. The business serves, but it expects benefit in return. When the church sees itself as a business, its goal becomes quantitative growth for itself. Success, then, is measured in numbers, nickels and noses. Subtly in some places, and blatantly in others, worship and messages then are judged by the crowds they draw.
The church is never to be measured in this way. It is not to be measured by the people it attracts, but by the message it preaches and the subsequent good it does. These are God’s criteria, and they fill every page of Scripture. The church’s goal, then, ought to be Biblical fidelity and acts of mercy. The love of Christ compels us to this work. And, it is here that the evangelical church has lost its way. When the evangelical church abandoned the city, the city began to rot. Sometimes, evangelical churches abandon the city even when they remain within its confines.
Hurting people are the harvest field. The gospel will bind up their wounds, and be heard by them as good news. If the church concentrates on Biblical truth combined with merciful action, then God will bless it with vitality, joy, contentment, and perhaps even growth.
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