In our modernized societies in the West, we are faced with an epidemic of lying, theft, abuse, rape, and other predatory behavior, but we are far more likely to blame it on bad self-image than on bad character. Even in the church, the story is not much different. We have seized upon the language of our therapeutic culture and insist that our preachers toe this line and speak to us in this language. What is often missed, however, is that this language comes out of a psychological world, not a moral world, and the chief consequence of this is that responsibility has vanished. We do not accept responsibility because we have no sense at all that we stand in the presence of a God of blazing, majestic purity. And when we lose this sense {of God} we lose all moral urgency. Indeed, we lose our gospel and the whole point of Christian faith.
David Wells
The Courage To Be Protestant
p. 239
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
What the resurrection of Christ does for the bone-aching reality of life
By D.A. Carson
THINGS ARE NEVER QUITE AS GOOD as they might be. Or if for a brief moment they are as good as you can imagine them, if for a while you seem to suck in the nectar of life itself with every breath you breathe, you know as well as I do that such highs cannot last.
Tomorrow you go back to work. You may enjoy your job, but it has its pressures. Your marriage may be well-nigh idyllic, but in a sour mood you may marvel at how much you cannot or will not share with your spouse. The warm west wind that tousles your hair metamorphoses into a tornado that destroys your home. One of your parents succumbs to Alzheimer’s; one of your children dies. There is so much around you to enjoy, yet just as you begin to chew on a filet mignon that your children have bought for you for your birthday, you remember the millions who starve every day.
There is no escape from the brute reality that, however wonderful your experiences in this broken world, others suffer experiences far more corrosive, and you yourself cannot ever believe that what you are experiencing is utterly ideal.
That restlessness is for our good. It is a design feature of our makeup, of our nature as creatures made in the image of God. We were made to inhabit eternity; by constitution we know that we belong to something better than a world (however beautiful at times) awash in sin.
Paul understands this point perfectly (2 Corinthians 5:1–5). He anticipates the time when “the earthly tent” (our present body) will be destroyed, and we will receive “an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands” (2 Cor. 5:1)—our resurrection body. “Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling” (2 Cor. 5:2). It is not that we wish to “shuffle off our mortal coil” and exist in naked immortality: that is not our ultimate hope, for “we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life” (2 Cor. 5:4).
Then Paul adds: “Now it is God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come” (2 Cor. 5:5). God made us for this purpose, i.e., for the purpose of resurrection life, secured for us by the death of his Son. Moreover, in anticipation of this glorious consummation of life, already God has given us his Spirit as a deposit, a kind of down payment on the ultimate inheritance.
Small wonder, then, that we groan in anticipation and find our souls restless in this temporary abode that is under sentence of death.
THINGS ARE NEVER QUITE AS GOOD as they might be. Or if for a brief moment they are as good as you can imagine them, if for a while you seem to suck in the nectar of life itself with every breath you breathe, you know as well as I do that such highs cannot last.
Tomorrow you go back to work. You may enjoy your job, but it has its pressures. Your marriage may be well-nigh idyllic, but in a sour mood you may marvel at how much you cannot or will not share with your spouse. The warm west wind that tousles your hair metamorphoses into a tornado that destroys your home. One of your parents succumbs to Alzheimer’s; one of your children dies. There is so much around you to enjoy, yet just as you begin to chew on a filet mignon that your children have bought for you for your birthday, you remember the millions who starve every day.
There is no escape from the brute reality that, however wonderful your experiences in this broken world, others suffer experiences far more corrosive, and you yourself cannot ever believe that what you are experiencing is utterly ideal.
That restlessness is for our good. It is a design feature of our makeup, of our nature as creatures made in the image of God. We were made to inhabit eternity; by constitution we know that we belong to something better than a world (however beautiful at times) awash in sin.
Paul understands this point perfectly (2 Corinthians 5:1–5). He anticipates the time when “the earthly tent” (our present body) will be destroyed, and we will receive “an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands” (2 Cor. 5:1)—our resurrection body. “Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling” (2 Cor. 5:2). It is not that we wish to “shuffle off our mortal coil” and exist in naked immortality: that is not our ultimate hope, for “we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life” (2 Cor. 5:4).
Then Paul adds: “Now it is God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come” (2 Cor. 5:5). God made us for this purpose, i.e., for the purpose of resurrection life, secured for us by the death of his Son. Moreover, in anticipation of this glorious consummation of life, already God has given us his Spirit as a deposit, a kind of down payment on the ultimate inheritance.
Small wonder, then, that we groan in anticipation and find our souls restless in this temporary abode that is under sentence of death.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
People Do Not Drift Toward Holiness
People do not drift toward holiness. Apart from grace-driven effort, people do not gravitate toward godliness, prayer, obedience to Scripture, faith, and delight in the Lord. We drift toward compromise and call it tolerance; we drift toward disobedience and call it freedom; we drift toward superstition and call it faith. We cherish the indiscipline of lost self-control and call it relaxation; we slouch toward prayerlessness and delude ourselves into thinking we have escaped legalism; we slide toward godlessness and convince ourselves we have been liberated. -- D.A. Carson
From his devotions on Nehemiah
From his devotions on Nehemiah
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
A prayer for the days you don't feel like praying
By Scotty Smith
Dear Father, this is one of those days when I could create a long prayer list and methodically go through it, but I’m not sure I would really be praying. I could go through the motions, but to be quite honest, it would be more ritual than reality… more about me, than the people and situations I’d bring before you. I’m feeling a bit distracted this morning, scattered and not very focused.
It’s one of those days I’m glad the gospel is much more about your grasp of me than my grip on you. It’s one of those days I’m grateful your delight in me is not contingent upon my delight in you. It’s one of those days I’m very thankful for the prayer ministry of the Holy Spirit.
Gracious Father, I have no problem or reluctance in acknowledging my weakness this morning. In fact it’s freeing to know your Spirit doesn’t abandon us when we’re weak, but helps us in our weakness. Just as Jesus constantly prays for us, the Holy Spirit faithfully prays in us with “wordless groans.” Though I don’t understand everything that means, I do get the part about you searching our hearts and you knowing the mind of the Spirit, and that brings me great comfort today.
No one knows our hearts better than you, Father. And you search our hearts to save us, not to shame us… to deliver us, not to demean us… to change us, not to chide us. You know my dignity and my depravity, my fears and my longings, my struggles with sin and my standing in Christ. No one but you knows how little or how much of the gospel I actually get.
And at this very moment your Spirit is praying inside of me… perfectly tuned into my needs and in total harmony with your will. I cannot measure the peace that brings. I surrender right now, Father. I will gladly groan to your glory. I know you are at work for my good in all things, including this season.
All I have to do is look at Jesus and know these things are true. You have called me to life in him and you will complete your purpose in me… and in each of your children… and in the entire cosmos. I do love you, I would love you more. So very Amen, I pray, in Jesus’ merciful and faithful name.
Dear Father, this is one of those days when I could create a long prayer list and methodically go through it, but I’m not sure I would really be praying. I could go through the motions, but to be quite honest, it would be more ritual than reality… more about me, than the people and situations I’d bring before you. I’m feeling a bit distracted this morning, scattered and not very focused.
It’s one of those days I’m glad the gospel is much more about your grasp of me than my grip on you. It’s one of those days I’m grateful your delight in me is not contingent upon my delight in you. It’s one of those days I’m very thankful for the prayer ministry of the Holy Spirit.
Gracious Father, I have no problem or reluctance in acknowledging my weakness this morning. In fact it’s freeing to know your Spirit doesn’t abandon us when we’re weak, but helps us in our weakness. Just as Jesus constantly prays for us, the Holy Spirit faithfully prays in us with “wordless groans.” Though I don’t understand everything that means, I do get the part about you searching our hearts and you knowing the mind of the Spirit, and that brings me great comfort today.
No one knows our hearts better than you, Father. And you search our hearts to save us, not to shame us… to deliver us, not to demean us… to change us, not to chide us. You know my dignity and my depravity, my fears and my longings, my struggles with sin and my standing in Christ. No one but you knows how little or how much of the gospel I actually get.
And at this very moment your Spirit is praying inside of me… perfectly tuned into my needs and in total harmony with your will. I cannot measure the peace that brings. I surrender right now, Father. I will gladly groan to your glory. I know you are at work for my good in all things, including this season.
All I have to do is look at Jesus and know these things are true. You have called me to life in him and you will complete your purpose in me… and in each of your children… and in the entire cosmos. I do love you, I would love you more. So very Amen, I pray, in Jesus’ merciful and faithful name.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Authority and capacity precede invitation
All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give rest for your souls. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you wil find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my load is light. -- Matthew 11:27-30
Jesus' invitation to come to him so that one can find rest for their soul is rooted in Christ's God-given authority and his unique capacity to make the eternal Father knowable (11:27). It is in knowing the Father where there is rest for our souls and Jesus has been given the exclusive right and means to reveal the Father. In that unique role Jesus invites people to come to him so that they may know the Father and there find rest.
There is no catch, no fine print, no hidden clause -- whosover will may come. However, coming requires yoking oneself with Christ and Christ alone.
How can bearing a yoke be 'easy'?
Jesus can assure us His yoke is easy because he alone reveals the Father -- in other words, He does all the work. Yoked to Christ does require going wherever he leads (no doubt we will stumble and even have to be dragged at times as we are yoked to him). However, he alone reveals the God who is life eternal. So where Christ is taking those united to him, in the end, is worth the yoke!
Jesus' invitation to come to him so that one can find rest for their soul is rooted in Christ's God-given authority and his unique capacity to make the eternal Father knowable (11:27). It is in knowing the Father where there is rest for our souls and Jesus has been given the exclusive right and means to reveal the Father. In that unique role Jesus invites people to come to him so that they may know the Father and there find rest.
There is no catch, no fine print, no hidden clause -- whosover will may come. However, coming requires yoking oneself with Christ and Christ alone.
How can bearing a yoke be 'easy'?
Jesus can assure us His yoke is easy because he alone reveals the Father -- in other words, He does all the work. Yoked to Christ does require going wherever he leads (no doubt we will stumble and even have to be dragged at times as we are yoked to him). However, he alone reveals the God who is life eternal. So where Christ is taking those united to him, in the end, is worth the yoke!
Monday, November 29, 2010
On the ceasing of eating grass and transforming culture
The gospel isn’t primarily about saving or transforming temporal culture, though salvation does have a positive impact on culture. Spiritual work makes material differences. Demoniacs clean up and go to town dressed and in their right minds. Nebuchadnezzars no longer eat grass like cattle, and return to sanity and responsible government. Zacchaeuses quit robbing the citizens and make restitution. But spiritual work isn’t mainly about improving the community. The redemption spiritual work does is far deeper, far bigger, and more long-lasting than the betterment of a temporal village or state. -- Sam Crabtree
Saturday, October 2, 2010
'Boys will be Boys' Not an Idea God Knows
When a man wanders into certain beds, he does not find peace there. In the sixties, that time of sexual infantalism, we were frequently urged to make love, not war. The assumption was that lovemaking was a peaceful activity, regardless of who you were in the hay with. But James tells us where war comes from -- warring desires.
What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you? Is it not this, that your passions are at war within you? You desire and do not have, so you murder. You covet and cannot obtain so you fight and quarrel. You do not have because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions. You adulterous people! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God. -- James 4:1-4
Sexual revolutions must necessarily end in blood. And to consider the truth of this we do not need to look off in the distance at all the trouble caused by Helen of Troy. James tell us that men war and fight because of lust. On whom they make war may vary, but the result is the same. The sexual laxity of our nation, to take an example close to home, has resulted to date in 38 million abortions. Considered from another angle, that means 38 million orgasms, 38 million temporarily satisfied men, 38 million good times in the sack that ended badly for the inconvenient by-product. In short, millions of men thought that someone else's life was a reasonable price to pay for the pleasure of getting off.
Friendship with the world is. . . contempt for God. And when we show contempt for God, we soon discover that he is not the frail deity many have assumed Him to be. It is not as though He does not know how to respond when we show contempt for Him. The God of the Bible, as one writer put it aptly, is not a buttercup. When we set ourselves against Him in enmity, He responds in judgment:
Now these things took place as examples for us, that we might not desire evil as they did. Do not be idolaters as some of the were, as it is written, 'The people sat down to eat and rose up to play.' We must not indulge in sexual immorality as some of them did and twenty-three thousand fell in a single day. I Cor. 10:6-8
The stories of the Bible are given to us so that might we might take warning. The God of the Bible judges the sin of fornication both within history and at the end of history. He visits a man with sexual diseases, conflict, guilt, turmoil, lack of peace and satisfaction, a miserable family, and death. At the culmination of history, He closes the gates of everlasting life in the face of those who did not repent of their fornications.
In short, we have to say that God does not take a 'boys will be boys' approach.
-- Douglas Wilson, Fidelity, pgs. 47,48
What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you? Is it not this, that your passions are at war within you? You desire and do not have, so you murder. You covet and cannot obtain so you fight and quarrel. You do not have because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions. You adulterous people! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God. -- James 4:1-4
Sexual revolutions must necessarily end in blood. And to consider the truth of this we do not need to look off in the distance at all the trouble caused by Helen of Troy. James tell us that men war and fight because of lust. On whom they make war may vary, but the result is the same. The sexual laxity of our nation, to take an example close to home, has resulted to date in 38 million abortions. Considered from another angle, that means 38 million orgasms, 38 million temporarily satisfied men, 38 million good times in the sack that ended badly for the inconvenient by-product. In short, millions of men thought that someone else's life was a reasonable price to pay for the pleasure of getting off.
Friendship with the world is. . . contempt for God. And when we show contempt for God, we soon discover that he is not the frail deity many have assumed Him to be. It is not as though He does not know how to respond when we show contempt for Him. The God of the Bible, as one writer put it aptly, is not a buttercup. When we set ourselves against Him in enmity, He responds in judgment:
Now these things took place as examples for us, that we might not desire evil as they did. Do not be idolaters as some of the were, as it is written, 'The people sat down to eat and rose up to play.' We must not indulge in sexual immorality as some of them did and twenty-three thousand fell in a single day. I Cor. 10:6-8
The stories of the Bible are given to us so that might we might take warning. The God of the Bible judges the sin of fornication both within history and at the end of history. He visits a man with sexual diseases, conflict, guilt, turmoil, lack of peace and satisfaction, a miserable family, and death. At the culmination of history, He closes the gates of everlasting life in the face of those who did not repent of their fornications.
In short, we have to say that God does not take a 'boys will be boys' approach.
-- Douglas Wilson, Fidelity, pgs. 47,48
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