Q. 30. Does God leave all mankind to perish in the estate of sin and misery?
A. God does not leave all men to perish in the estate of sin and misery,into which they fell by the breach of the first covenant, commonly called the covenant of works; but of his mere love and mercy delivers his elect out of it, and brings them into an estate of salvation by the second covenant, commonly called the covenant of grace.
But the free gift is not like the transgression. For if by the transgression of the one the many died, much more did the grace of God and the gift by the grace of the one Man, Jesus Christ, abound to the many. The gift is not like that which came through the one who sinned; for on the one hand the judgment arose from one transgression resulting in condemnation, but on the other hand the free gift arose from many transgressions resulting in justification. For if by the transgression of the one, death reigned through the one, much more those who receive the abundance of grace and of the gift of righteousness will reign in life through the One, Jesus Christ.
So then as through one transgression there resulted condemnation to all men, even so through one act of righteousness there resulted justification of life to all men. For as through the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, even so through the obedience of the One the many will be made righteous. The Law came in so that the transgression would increase; but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more, so that, as sin reigned in death, even so grace would reign through righteousness to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.
—Romans 5:15–21
In the previous verses (Romans 5:12–14), Question 22 was answered in the affirmative: all mankind fell with Adam in the first transgression. We were left hopelessly fallen, waiting for Question 30 to pick us up out of our “estate of sin and misery.” Verses 12–14 connected us to Adam. Verses 15–21 connect us to Christ, exploring the one man/one act analogy of Adam and Christ.
But the free gift is not like the transgression. . . . The free gift — “having now been justified by His blood” — is like the transgression — through which “death spread to all men” — in only one way: it came through one man. In effect, it is the polar opposite. Through Adam’s sin, “the many died”; through the free gift, grace was poured out to many, and not in equal proportions to the transgression, but abounding “much more.” Calvin wrote,
It may indeed be justly inferred, that since the fall of Adam had such an effect as to produce the ruin of many, much more efficacious is the grace of God to the benefit of many; inasmuch as it is admitted, that Christ is much more powerful to save, than Adam was to destroy.
—John Calvin, Calvin’s Commentaries Volume XIX, Commentaries on the Epistle of Paul to the Romans (Baker Books, 2009), 206.
The gift is not like that which came through the one who sinned . . . The condemnation of Adam's sin is unlike grace in that it rose from one transgression, whereas, for those who believe, grace rises from every transgression, resulting in justification. We see two great truths in these verses: first, that God hates sin so much that one was enough to damn all of humanity; second, God loves mankind so much that he offers forgiveness to all men for all sins.
For if by the transgression of the one, death reigned through the one . . . Now we have another of these “as that, so this, only moreso” statements. As the one sin of one man brought the reign of death over all men, “much more” will the elect (“those who receive the abundance of grace”) reign in life through Christ. Why “much more”? I believe Calvin’s comments (above) apply, but I also tend to think in terms of intent and efficacy. If the unthinking act of a finite man produced these unintended consequences, how much more efficacious is the intentional corrective act of an infinite God? If Adam stumbled into disaster, God’s calculated response — planned well in advance — is much more certain. In fact, “much more” is an understatement.
So then as through one transgression . . . through one act of righteousness . . . through the one man’s disobedience . . . through the obedience of the One . . . Verses 18–19 set Adam and Christ in opposite categories: obedient, and disobedient. The essence of Adam’s sin is that he was disobedient. The necessary antidote was an act of supreme obedience. We, as Adam’s heirs, are unrighteous, disobedient. Those who are in Christ are, by virtue of his obedience, declared righteous and justified before God. His obedience is our obedience.
. . . where sin increased, grace abounded all the more . . . Those whom God has delivered out of their “estate of sin and misery . . . into an estate of salvation” are not merely sinners, but great sinners. We have known the Law, and through it have known God, and have yet fallen short of his holiness. Our sin, in the light of the Law, has increased. But, praise God, as sin increased, grace abounded. Just as sin reigns in death — those who are spiritually dead are slaves to sin — grace reigns “through righteousness to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” And we cannot overemphasize the point that the righteousness through which grace reigns is not our own, but Christ’s.
If you are in Christ, you are no longer in “an estate of sin and misery.” Sin does not reign in you. Therefore, you can take your rest in Christ, through whose righteousness you have received abundant grace. Grace rules.
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In 2 Corinthians 13:5, Paul exhorts his readers to “test yourselves to see if you are in the faith.” Previously (2 Corinthians 6:14), he had instructed them to judge the faith of others. In spite of this clear teaching, it is virtually unthinkable in today’s church to question anyone’s profession of faith. To do so is deemed judgmental and uncharitable. Everyone must be given the benefit of the doubt, as though they can in some way take credit for their salvation.
I suppose this may be a byproduct of the synergistic gospel embraced by most of the church in which God provides salvation, but man has to go get it (i.e., accept Christ, ask Jesus into his heart, make a decision for Christ). But that isn’t how it works. We can only give the benefit of the doubt (or not) in relation to things done or not done. Spiritual status (saved or unsaved) is not achieved by any work of man. It could be compared to physical stature. If a man is of short stature, it is no insult to admit it is so. On the other hand, the height of a tall man is no cause for praise. Neither man can take any credit for his height.
Unlike physical stature, whether or not one is saved matters. We should waste no time praying for a short man to grow taller, or for an awkwardly tall man to shrink. We need not think of it at all. Discerning our spiritual state, and that of those around us, is eternally vital. Love demands it. Toward that end, Mike McKinley has written Am I Really a Christian?, in which he lists “five things Christians have,” indicators by which we can judge our profession of faith.
Belief in true doctrine. You’re not a Christian just because you like Jesus.
Hatred for sin in your life. You’re not a Christian if you enjoy sin.
Perseverance over time. You’re not a Christian if you don’t persist in the faith.
Love for other people. You’re not a Christian if you don’t have care and concern for other people.
Freedom from love of the world. You’re not a Christian if the things of this world are more valuable to you than God.
In short, what you believe, that is, the object of your faith, matters. Intellectual assent to biblical theology, however, is not by itself proof of genuine faith. Genuine faith bears specific fruits. And to the predictable objection to perfectionism, we admit that the fruit will not be perfect. Some apples are sour, others are mealy, and a few might contain a worm here and there. But a live apple tree produces apples.
Suppose you asked someone if they believed in me. Suppose he answered, “Sure, I know him. He’s the starting center for the Los Angeles Lakers. He’s a vegetarian and drinks light beer. During the off-season, he sells used cars.” If none of those things are true of me, can that person really say he believes in me? He’s used my name, but has been misinformed about who I am, or has willfully made me into someone he wishes I was. No, he does not know me, and does not believe in me. He believes a fiction.
Sadly, that is the situation for a great many who claim to be Christians. They believe in either a popular but fictional notion of Jesus, or a Jesus tailored to their own personal likes. They do not believe in Jesus any more than the character introduced above believes in me. If that person wants to know me, he’ll have to come to me and get the facts first hand. If he wants to know Jesus, he’ll have to do the same. He’ll have to go to the source and find the biblical Jesus.
However, it is possible to have all the right information, believe all the right facts, and yet be unsaved. Correct belief is surely a part of faith, but it is not the whole. Theologians divide faith into three elements: notitia (knowledge), assensus (assent), and fiducia (trust). If knowledge does not lead to assent, and assent to trust, real faith is not present. Mike McKinley writes,
[A] true Christian must believe in the factual truth of certain propositions. But . . . biblical belief or faith is more than intellectual assent to a set of truth propositions. Biblical belief or faith is a personal, heartfelt trust in a person.
The difference between these two kinds of belief isn’t too hard to see. Intellectual assent is like a sideways nod of the head to someone passing by while you continue on your merry way. A personal, heartfelt trust, however, means changing the direction in which you’re walking. Someone you love and trust has asked you to follow, and so you do. Heartfelt trust yields a happy obedience.
Knowing and assenting to the truth about Jesus can only lead to trust if we understand our needy condition. Trust is moot until we find ourselves in need of someone to trust.
You are not a Christian just because you like Jesus. You must believe things about Jesus. You must believe that you need a Savior, and that he is that Savior. You must believe that you need a Lord, and that he is that Lord.
Our confidence must not merely be in things that once happened, but in the person who accomplished them. When we come to Jesus in trust for the forgiveness and healing that we so desperately need, we find that he is willing and able to help us.
The story of the Prodigal Son illustrates the fact that “you are not a Christian if you enjoy sin.” Mike McKinley writes,
The son’s turnaround began when he saw the reality of his sin clearly. He realized what a fool he had been, how offensive behavior and attitudes were, and how ratty the pleasures of sin were in comparison to the joys of his father’s home. In Jesus’s words, “He came to himself”—he came to his senses.
Since a Christian is dead to sin and alive to Christ, when he does sin, he finds that it doesn’t suit him. He cannot be comfortable living in it. Although sin may provide him with a moment of pleasure and enjoyment, he is later plagued with feelings of regret, disappointment, and shame. If a true follower of Jesus is snared in sin, he will eventually have a moment like the Prodigal son, had in the pigsty where he comes to hate his sin. He does not grow in an ever-increasing love for sin, but as time goes by, he hates it.
I admit it: this is not a cutting edge blog, and I am in general anything but cutting edge. I prefer to wait until an author is dead before quoting him, and the few young (under 50) writers I have quoted lately make me a little uneasy. I enjoy movies, but have never been one to run to the theatre to see the latest film. When there is a new release that interests me, I am perfectly content to wait until it comes out on DVD. It is a rare film that is better on the big screen (Jaws comes to mind).
Last night, the family and I watched the 2010 remake of True Grit. For those who maintain an even longer cultural lag-time than I, this review will contain no spoilers.
Like most, my introduction to True Grit was the first screenplay starring John Wayne, Kim Darby, and Glen Campell. Being but four years old in 1969, I also did not run to the theatre to see John Wayne as Rooster Cogburn. I saw it a few years later, no doubt edited for television in an age when nothing worse than “damn” and “hell” were heard, and even those much less frequently.
As a kid, I saw True Grit as a great western. As an adult, I came to appreciate its humor. While True Grit is not really a comedy (except in the classical sense), it really is very funny. Almost every exchange involving the protagonist, fourteen-year-old Mattie Ross, cracks me up.
Westerns of that age have an appeal that is largely lost today. They are realistically violent, with realistically despicable villains, without being graphically bloody and gruesome or gratuitously profane and obscene. When I heard of plans to remake True Grit, particularly by the Coen brothers, I was so sure that would be lost that I resolved not to see it. I was not going to watch Rooster Cogburn spouting obscenities and blowing big gaping holes in the bad guys, or the desultory Mattie Ross bathing in the river with LaBoeuf peering through the trees scene.
A couple of things happened to change my mind. First, a couple of friends saw the remake, liked it, and assured me that my fears were unnecessary (this proved correct). Second, I learned, to my embarrassment, that True Grit was not born in a studio in 1969, but as a Charles Portis novel in ’68. So now, if I was to see the new version, I had to read the book first so I could judge the movie by the correct standard.
This was a fortunate necessity. Portis’s True Grit is a delightful story, filled with a dry humor that I fear is largely lost on today’s consumers of crass stand-up intellect assassins and sitcom stupidity. I give my unreserved recommendation that you read his book. Unless you’ve been inoculated against real humor by the previously mentioned artless arts, or are a humorless curmudgeon, you’ll smile all the way through, and you’ll be smarter to boot.
So, how did I like the 2010 remake, and how does it compare to the 1969 classic, and how does it (and its predecessor) compare to the original source?
True Grit (1969) follows the Portis novel so closely that, having seen it several times over the years, reading the novel was like listening to the movie without video. This is no exaggeration. The scripted dialogue really follows the book that accurately. The 2010 remake is pretty good in that way as well, but contains less of the dialogue. The remake’s story-line is somewhat more faithful and complete. Both are excellent representations of the novel, much more so than almost any other book-based movies I have seen. The lead character actors in both play their characters well, so well, in fact, that in a few scenes the 1969 and 2010 characters could be interchanged. Most notable in that way are Strother Martin/Dakin Matthews as Colonel Stonehill and Robert Duvall/Barry Pepper as Lucky Ned Pepper. There are also glimpses of Kim Darby’s Mattie Ross in Hailee Steinfeld. Jeff Bridges’s Rooster and Matt Damon’s Laboeuf bear much less resemblance to their 1969 counterparts, but are possibly more accurate representations of Portis’s characters.
The 2010 remake is technically more accurate, and the actors do a fine job, but in the end, I still think the John Wayne film is the best. The dialogue, which is the most charming part of the novel, is more complete, and the personalities, also vital to the mood of the story, are brought to life better in the earlier film. That is why 1969’s True Grit is in my library, to be watched many more times in years to come, while 2010’s, while enjoyable enough, is most likely a one-time rental.
Finally, a note about the soundtrack. The instrumental hymns throughout were nice, but not as appropriate to the story as the 1969 soundtrack. Besides, I hate it when the gospel is hijacked for secular use. Having done that, though, I wish they had kept it all instrumental. I’ll take Glen Campell’s cheesy True Grit theme over the caterwauling that concluded this production any day.
Here’s another one that I don’t remember singing, but it’s in the book, and I like it.
340 Abide with Me, Fast Falls the Eventide
Abide with me; fast falls the eventide; The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me.
Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day; Earth’s joys grow dim; its glories pass away; Change and decay in all around I see; O Thou who changest not, abide with me.
I need Thy presence every passing hour. What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s power? Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be? Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.
I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless; Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness. Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory? I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.
Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes; Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies. Heaven’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee; In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.
I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”
Tune Me, O Lord Christina Rossetti (1830–1894)
Tune me, O Lord, into one harmony With Thee, one full responsive vibrant chord; Unto Thy praise all love and melody, Tune me, O Lord.
Thus need I flee nor death, nor fire, nor sword. A little while these be, then cease to be, And sent by Thee not these should be abhorred.
Devil and world, gird me with strength, To flee the flesh, and arm me with Thy word: As Thy Heart is to my heart, unto Thee Tune me, O Lord.
—Christina Rossetti, Poems (Alfred A. Knopf, 1993).
through whom also we have obtained our introduction by faith into this grace in which we stand; and we exult in hope of the glory of God.
—Romans 5:2
Let us note here—(1) The grace; (2) The introduction into it; (3) The abiding, or standing; (4) The rejoicing.
I. The grace.—It is here called “this grace,”—a well known, most suitable, and sufficient grace, or free love; the free love of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. This is “the true grace of God”; free love in the heart of God to the ungodly, to the unloving and unloveable. This grace, or free love, is absolute and unconditional; considering not our deservings or qualifications, but simply our need. It looks at us not as good, but as evil; not as sensible, but insensible; not as penitent, but impenitent; not as good in any sense or degree, but as wholly evil. It is not created or awakened by our amendments, or good feelings, or love, or prayers, or regeneration. It regards us simply as sinners, ungodly, needing God’s favor and help. It is this free love that begins, carries on, and consummates a sinner’s deliverance. The knowledge of this divine free love is life eternal. Out of this fountain, ever full and flowing, there comes to us pardon, and joy, and health, and consolation, and light. He that knows that free love, knows that which saves him, and draws him into happy fellowship with God. He that knows it not, is still afar off; the child of darkness, and the worshipper of an unknown God. We can neither be happy nor holy till we know it. It is the good news of God’s free love that we preach. This is “the ministry of the reconciliation”; this is our mission and commission, “to testify the gospel of the grace of God,” and to tell that it is “by his mercy that he saves us”; to speak of “the exceeding riches of the grace of God.”
II. The access, or introduction.—We do not create or awaken this free love by any goodness or qualification of our own. It exists independent of these. Nor did Christ, by His coming and death, create that love. This love existed before; it was this that sent Christ. “God so loved the world, that He gave his Son.” Yet, without Christ, this love could never have reached us. It would have been a distant and inaccessible well, a spring shut up, a fountain sealed. It is through Him that this free love has found its way to us. He brings it to us, and us to it. He gives access, and entrance, and introduction; for the word implies all these, and is used elsewhere to signify the bringing or introducing one person to another (Luke 9:41; Acts 16:20); and is employed not simply in reference to the grace of God, but to God himself (1 Peter 3:18; Ephesians 2:18, 3:12).
Our outward or objective Introducer and introduction is Christ himself; our inward or subjective introduction and introducer is faith. Jesus brings us to time Father and the Father’s grace, but He does so by producing faith in us. Without, or apart from Christ, the grace cannot come to us; and without faith, Christ and we are kept at a distance from each other. God has given us His true testimony, both as to His grace and as to His Son; and we, in believing that testimony, become connected with both. The grace is deposited in Christ for us; and we, in coming to Him, get the grace that is in Him. The grace that is in Him, He has received for men, even for the rebellious; and this was the grace which He manifested when here on earth, both in his words and deeds. He was the gracious One, and, as such, the representative of the Father. We go to Him to get His own and the Father’s grace, the free love of Godhead.
III. The standing, or abiding.—In this grace, or free love, we have stood since we were introduced into it; and in it we are standing, and shall stand. “We stand in it!” This is a believing man’s true position. He takes his stand on the free love of God. This raises him up and holds him up; keeps him from fainting, or falling, or sliding. This free love is to him—(1) abiding peace, (2) abiding strength, (3) abiding security. This free love is to him—(1) sunshine, (2) rain, (3) food, (4) water, (5) medicine, (6) wine. At this well he stands and drinks, in this sun he basks, to this storehouse he comes for everything. Have we used this free love as we ought? Are we using it constantly? Do we use it for strengthening our faith, for quickening our daily life, for increasing our holiness, for dispelling our doubts, for ministering consolation? In the constant recognition of this love, there is provision for a close walk with God, and for a useful, zealous life. Are we thus employing it? Are we using it pure and undiluted; love—true, free, unmingled, unmerited love? Or are we diluting it,—polluting it, by mingling something of our own with it; making it less pure, and heavenly, and generous ; less absolutely, and unconditionally, and entirely free? Let us remember how much our steadfastness and progress depend on our constant recognizing of, and living on, this free love. Apart from it, all is weakness, bondage, darkness, and instability. O free love of God, what a fountain of life and strength thou art to the weary, helpless sinner!
IV. The rejoicing.—This grace is not merely stability for us, but joy, and hope, and glory. Standing in this grace, we are filled with joy. This joy comes not merely from the past and present, but from the future; not merely from the knowledge that we are beloved of God, but from the knowledge of what that love is to do for us hereafter. We rejoice because our future is filled with hope,—the hope of the glory of God. Joy comes, then, from hope; hope from the God of love; hope sure and steadfast; hope that maketh not ashamed; everlasting hope. Glory is ours in prospect,—the glory of God; and so great is it, that we reckon that the sufferings of this life are not worthy to be compared with the glory to be revealed,—the “exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” It is the glory of the new heavens and earth, the glory of resurrection, the glory of the kingdom, the very glory of Christ. And it is all ours, simply as those who have known and believed this free love of God. Hence the apostle’s prayer, “The God of (the) hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing.” Take these lessons:
1. Be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus.—It is on this we plant our feet; it is this that makes us strong. This love is our strength.
2. Rejoice in the Lord.—Ours should be a full and constant gladness; for, both before and behind, we are compassed about with that which gladdens.
3. Abound in hope.—It is bright, blessed, and glorious. It is the hope of reigning with Christ. It will sustain and sanctify. It will animate and cheer. Thus do we glorify the God of hope.
4. Realize the glory. Keep the eye steadfastly fixed upon it, till its brightness fills our whole being.
Chapter 5 of Am I Really a Christian? deals with perseverance in the faith as an evidence of genuine faith. Answering the question of why people appear to fall away, McKinley turns to Mark 4:3–9, The Parable of the Sower.
“Listen to this! Behold, the sower went out to sow; as he was sowing, some seed fell beside the road, and the birds came and ate it up. Other seed fell on the rocky ground where it did not have much soil; and immediately it sprang up because it had no depth of soil. And after the sun had risen, it was scorched; and because it had no root, it withered away. Other seed fell among the thorns, and the thorns came up and choked it, and it yielded no crop. Other seeds fell into the good soil, and as they grew up and increased, they yielded a crop and produced thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold.” And He was saying, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”
There are four categories of hearers in this parable:
The first category of people hears God’s word and has no interest in it. Nothing happens because Satan lets nothing happen: “When they hear, Satan immediately comes and takes away the word that is sown in them” (Mark 4:15).
The second category hears the Word of God and initially seems to accept it. They seem like Christians, but it doesn’t last: “When tribulation or persecution arises on account of the word, immediately they fall away” (Mark 4:16–17).
The third category of people hears the Word, but whatever positive response springs up, again, does not last: “The cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches and the desires for other things enter in and choke the word, and it proves unfruitful” (Mark 4:18–19).
The final category of people hears the Word, and it sticks. It saves. The growth springs up and endures: they “hear the word and accept it and bear fruit, thirtyfold and sixtyfold and a hundredfold” (Mark 4:20).
The conditions of those in the first and fourth categories is clear. The former never pretended to believe, and their faith is proven by the fruit it bears. The second and third are those who appeared to believe, but whose failure to persevere proved the superficiality of their faith.
People in the second category hear the good news about Jesus and receive it with joy. They are excited about Jesus and enjoy the company of new Christian friends. Maybe they are baptized, join the church, and begin to wear Christian T-shirts.
But then persecution sets in. Maybe it’s subtle—their families and old friends make fun of their T-shirts. Maybe it’s violent—the government threatens to throw them in jail or worse. Whatever it is, they begin to pay a price for their association with Jesus, just as Jesus promised them they would: “If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you” (John 15:20). Apparently, there is no way to follow after a messiah who was crucified by the world’s powers that doesn’t involve suffering. And, sadly, Christians often fail to encourage people to “count the cost” before deciding to follow Jesus.
Whether or not the members of this second group were told to count the cost (please do when you share the gospel!) the idea of following Jesus quickly loses its gleam under adverse circumstances. And there comes a point when it feels like more trouble than it’s worth. Slowly but surely, these fair-weather followers distance themselves from the Christian community. Eventually, what they begin to call their “Christian phase” is a distant memory.
Preaching the gospel while omitting the cost of discipleship is, in my estimation, equal to preaching a prosperity gospel. It leaves people with the possible expectation of “the good life,” while Scripture promises that following Christ will always cost something, and in some cases, everything.
The third category demonstrates the fact that, rich or poor, preoccupation with material wealth is idolatry (Matthew 6:24, cf. Luke 16:23) and creates a barrier to saving faith.
Members of the third category, like those in the second category, also receive the Word but eventually walk away from it. What distracts them is the cares of the world, whether that means they’re poor and weighed down with anxiety over paying the rent, or they’re rich and always looking for bigger and better homes.
The faith of some people is waylaid by poverty and suffering. The faith of others is choked out by too much success. Deprivation tempts some to abandon Christ for the hope of greener pastures. Prosperity causes others to lose sight of him. In other words, it’s not about how much you have. It’s about what you’re after.
Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God; and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love.
—1 John 4:7–8
Love for Other Christians*
A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.”
—John 13:34–35
The one who says he is in the Light and yet hates his brother is in the darkness until now. The one who loves his brother abides in the Light and there is no cause for stumbling in him. But the one who hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going because the darkness has blinded his eyes.
—1 John 2:9–11
Love for Those in Need
“But when the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the angels with Him, then He will sit on His glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered before Him; and He will separate them from one another, as the shepherd separates the sheep from the goats; and He will put the sheep on His right, and the goats on the left.
“Then the King will say to those on His right, ‘Come, you who are blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me.’ Then the righteous will answer Him, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink? And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You? When did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ The King will answer and say to them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.’
“Then He will also say to those on His left, ‘Depart from Me, accursed ones, into the eternal fire which has been prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry, and you gave Me nothing to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me nothing to drink; I was a stranger, and you did not invite Me in; naked, and you did not clothe Me; sick, and in prison, and you did not visit Me.’ Then they themselves also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry, or thirsty, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not take care of You?’ Then He will answer them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me.’ These will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”
—Matthew 25:31–46
Love for Your Enemies
“But I say to you who hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. Whoever hits you on the cheek, offer him the other also; and whoever takes away your coat, do not withhold your shirt from him either. Give to everyone who asks of you, and whoever takes away what is yours, do not demand it back. Treat others the same way you want them to treat you. If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners in order to receive back the same amount. But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for He Himself is kind to ungrateful and evil men. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.
Having been asked to explain my objection to the covenant language in Questions 31–36 of the Westminster Larger Catechism, this is my attempt to do so. But first, I want to make one thing clear: I understand the importance of covenant in redemptive history. I have read Hebrews, and I know what Jesus did in the upper room. My only objection is to covenantal language applied to the pre-Fall command of God in Eden (the so-called “covenant of works”), and the post-Fall curse on Satan with the redemptive promise (the so-called “covenant of grace”). This will be explained below.
In preparing this post, I have referred to Berkhof’s Systematic Theology. I trust Berkhof will be an acceptable representative of Covenant theology.
Berkhof admits “that the term ‘covenant’ is not found in the first three chapters of Genesis,” but counters with the assertion “that this is not tantamount to saying that they do not contain the necessary data for the construction of a doctrine of the covenant.” He then cites the trinity as an example of an obvious biblical doctrine that stands without the word itself, or any equivalent, appearing anywhere in Scripture. I agree with Berkhof that the absence of a word does not necessarily equal the absence of a doctrine. However, I don’t think his comparison to the Trinity fits as well as he thinks it does, for these reasons:
Though the word is never used, the doctrine of the Trinity is explicit. The covenant of works is, at best, only implicit. The covenant of grace is somewhat more readily derived, but seems to me to be dependent on a previous covenant being in force.
The word “trinity” is never used, nor is any equivalent term. That is, God chose not to give his three-in-oneness a convenient theological title. “Covenant” is used many times in Scripture. It is, I think (correct me if I’m wrong), used in conjunction with every post-Edenic covenant. It seems odd that the word is omitted from the first covenants, especially in the case of the “covenant of grace,” which would presumably lay the foundation for every covenant to come.
You could argue that those reasons do not disprove the Edenic covenants, and you would be correct. I would answer that I am under no obligation to prove a negative. You must prove the positive. And if your proof depends upon the a priori assumption of a theological construct unknown (says Berkhof) to Calvin, Luther, and the Fathers, you should consider your question-begging ways.
Addressing each “covenant” individually, let’s look at the Scriptural foundation for each.
The covenant of works, Genesis 2:16–17
The Lord God commanded the man, saying, “From any tree of the garden you may eat freely; but from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat from it you will surely die.”
In the explicit covenants, God offers something to be fulfilled in the future that the second party does not already possess. He does not merely promise what is already given. In this case, nothing new is promised. A command is given, along with the threat of death for disobedience. Berkhof claims that eternal life as a reward for obedience “is clearly implied” in the threat of death for disobedience, but the threat of death is meaningless to someone who is already facing death. Life without the threat of death is eternal life. Adam already had life, without the threat of death, in perfect fellowship with God. In opposition to this view, Berkhof makes this rather odd assertion:
It has been objected that this would only mean a continuation of Adam’s natural life, and not what Scripture calls life eternal. But the Scriptural idea of life is life in communion with God; and this is the life which Adam possessed, though in this case it was still amissible [liable to be lost]. If Adam stood the test, this life would be retained not only, but would cease to be amissible, and would therefore be lifted to a higher plane.
Now, if that isn’t an answer looking for a question, I don’t know what is. Prior to the tree test, Adam’s life was liable to be lost. If he passed the test, the life he had would no longer be liable to be lost. This, of course, assumes that the test would, at some point in time, end. God would have to uproot, chop down, or render fruitless the tree. As long as the tree stands and produces, the situation continues in which Adam lives as long as he doesn’t eat the fruit. At what point has he obeyed long enough to be “lifted to a higher plane”? This is the invention of a theologian desperate to validate a shaky doctrine.
The covenant of grace, Genesis 3:15
I will put enmity Between you and the woman, And between your seed and her seed; He shall bruise you on the head, And you shall bruise him on the heel.
I have, you’ll be happy to know, much less to say about this. You would think that, in a covenant, the first party would address the second. If this is a covenant with Adam, it is oddly formulated, addressed to Satan in the form of a curse. Contained therein is a cryptic messianic prophesy, a promise of redemption, but no word of a covenant. But even aside from the absence of the word, the language is unlike any of the other covenants.
I call this the promise of redemption, and am satisfied with that. If you want to call it a covenant of grace, that’s fine with me. Berkhof states that “the covenant of grace is simply the execution of the original agreement by Christ as our surety.” That is, Christ was obedient where Adam was disobedient, and he did it for us. Take away the covenant language, and I’ll agree with that to the letter.
You’ll have to excuse me, though, while I vehemently object to anything like a covenant of works. Some very non-Reformed folks I have known have held to a doctrine of “saved by grace, kept by works.” If this is any other than that, I’d like to know how. As I see it, life has been all of grace from the very beginning.
The next six questions in the catechism deal with the covenant of grace. How will I approach them? At first, I thought I would just sit them out and watch my covenantal brothers play with them. But looking closer, I saw that while Question 31 is on the covenant of grace, its answer clearly looks to the Abrahamic covenant. So it’s no sweat; I’ve even got a handy commentary on that, called Galatians.
Get your own copy of The Westminster Confession of Faith and Catechismshere.
A. The covenant of grace was made with Christ as the second Adam, and in him with all the elect as his seed.
Now the promises were spoken to Abraham and to his seed. He does not say, “And to seeds,” as referring to many, but rather to one, “And to your seed,” that is, Christ.
—Galatians 3:16
Nineteen centuries (according to Ussher) before Christ, a covenant was made with Christ, and through Christ, with all who were chosen in him. There are two (that I see) directions we could go with this discussion. One is union with Christ, or what it means to be in Christ. The other is the unusual unilateral nature of the covenant. The latter will be the focus of this post. Look with me to Genesis 15:
9 [God] said to[Abram], “Bring Me a three year old heifer, and a three year old female goat, and a three year old ram, and a turtledove, and a young pigeon.” 10 Then he brought all these to Him and cut them in two, and laid each half opposite the other; but he did not cut the birds. . . . 17 It came about when the sun had set, that it was very dark, and behold, there appeared a smoking oven and a flaming torch which passed between these pieces. 18 On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram . . .
Did you see what happened there? Under normal circumstances, both parties to a covenant would have bound themselves in the covenant by passing between the bifurcated beasts. In this case, however, only one party made a promise and made the symbolic gesture binding himself to his oath. God, in the form of a smoking oven and a flaming torch, passed between the pieces. Abram stood by and watched.
This was a unilateral covenant, a promise made by God alone. God was not working together with Abram. And this is the pattern for all of redemptive history. God makes the promises, and he keeps them, and we are the undeserving recipients of his grace. So it has always been, and so it will always be. Like Abram, we hear God’s promises, and we stand and watch him work. From the beginning, monergism has been at the core of God’s redemptive plan.
Get your own copy of The Westminster Confession of Faith and Catechismshere.
Then the kingdom of heaven will be comparable to ten virgins, who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were prudent. For when the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, but the prudent took oil in flasks along with their lamps. Now while the bridegroom was delaying, they all got drowsy and began to sleep. But at midnight there was a shout, “Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.” Then all those virgins rose and trimmed their lamps. The foolish said to the prudent, “Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.” But the prudent answered, “No, there will not be enough for us and you too; go instead to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.” And while they were going away to make the purchase, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the wedding feast; and the door was shut. Later the other virgins also came, saying, “Lord, lord, open up for us.” But he answered, “Truly I say to you, I do not know you.” Be on the alert then, for you do not know the day nor the hour.
—Matthew 25:1–13
A beautiful eschatological hymn:
426 Wake, Awake, for Night Is Flying
Wake, awake, for night is flying: The watchmen on the heights are crying; Awake, Jerusalem, arise! Midnight’s solemn hour is tolling, His chariot wheels are nearer rolling; He comes, prepare, ye virgins wise. Rise up with willing feet Go forth, the bridegroom meet; Hallelujah! Bear thro’ the night your well-trimmed light, Speed forth to join the marriage rite.
Zion hears the watchmen singing, Her heart with deep delight is springing, At once she wakes, she hastes away: Forth her Bridegroom hastens glorious, In grace arrayed, in truth victorious; Her grief is joy, her night is day: All hail, incarnate Lord, Our crown, and our reward! Hallelujah! We haste along, in pomp and song, And gladsome join the marriage throng.
Hear Thy praise, O Lord, ascending From tongues of men and angels blending With harp and flute and psaltery. By Thy pearly gates in wonder We stand, and swell the voice of thunder, In bursts of choral melody: To mortal eyes and ears What glory now appears! Hallelujah! We raise the song, we swell the throng, To praise Thee ages all along.
I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”
Confession and Petition
Holy Lord,
I have sinned times without number, and been guilty of pride and unbelief, of failure to find thy mind in thy Word, of neglect to seek thee in my daily life.
My transgressions and short-comings present me with a list of accusations,
But I bless thee that they will not stand against me, for all have been laid on Christ.
Go on to subdue my corruptions, and grant me grace to live above them.
Let not the passions of the flesh nor lustings of the mind bring my spirit into subjection, but do thou rule over me in liberty and power.
I thank thee that many of my prayers have been refused — I have asked amiss and do not have, I have prayed from lusts and been rejected, I have longed for Egypt and been given a wilderness.
Go on with thy patient work, answering ‘no’ to my wrongful prayers, and fitting me to accept it.
Purge me from every false desire, every base aspiration, everything contrary to thy rule.
I thank thee for thy wisdom and thy love, for all the acts of discipline to which I am subject, for sometimes putting me into the furnace to refine my gold and remove my dross.
No trial is so hard to bear as a sense of sin.
If thou shouldst give me choice to live in pleasure and keep my sins, or to have them burnt away with trial, give me sanctified affliction.
Deliver me from every evil habit, every accretion of former sins, everything that dims the brightness of thy grace in me,
Everything that prevents me taking delight in thee.
Then I shall bless thee, God of Jeshurun, for helping me to be upright.
2 through whom also we have obtained our introduction by faith into this grace in which we stand; and we exult in hope of the glory of God. 3 And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; 4 and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope;
—Romans 5:2–4
How simply does the apostle put the “good news” in the conclusion of the previous chapter! “It was not written for his (Abraham’s) sake alone, that it was imputed to him; but for us also, to whom it shall be imputed, if we believe on Him that raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead; who was delivered because we had sinned, and was raised because we were justified.” Then in the fifth chapter he thus continues,—”Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ; by whom we have access (introduction) by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only so, but we even glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation worketh patience, and patience experience (δοχιμή, approval after trial,—approval by God; perhaps here “a sense of approval”), and experience hope, and hope maketh not ashamed (will not disappoint), because the love of God is shed abroad (poured out of one vessel into another) in our hearts by the Holy Ghost.”
Thus, then, all true religion begins with our being justified; this justification is immediate,—by believing; then follows inseparably, peace with God; and this peace is through Jesus Christ, who is our peace, and who has made peace by the blood of His cross. This Jesus who has effected the peace has brought us at the same time into a state of favor, and placed us on a new footing, namely, of grace or free love, so that all our intercourse and transactions with God henceforth proceed on this new footing; God deals with us in free love, and we count on being dealt with at all times in free love; we expect nothing save from free love, and from it we expect everything. This fountain of God’s free love, thus opened for us, and to which, we are brought by Jesus Christ, is all we need for the fullest supply of our innumerable wants. Let us give all credit to the divine testimony concerning it; and act upon it continually; so shall we be kept in peace, and strength, and liberty.
But let us look at the second verse a little more closely.
The two things which the apostle brings before us in connection with our justified condition, are the grace and the glory. Let us take up these two subjects.
I. The grace. This means, of course, the state of favor with God; as when we read, “Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord.” It is that state in which we are dealt with by God in free love, and in free love alone; that state in which not law but free love regulates everything, gives everything; so that keeping this in mind, we may live, and act, and pray as those who are entitled to feel themselves absolutely sure of everything that free love can bestow. The apostle refers to two things in our connection with this state, our introduction or access into it, and our abiding in it.
(1.) Access or introduction. It is Christ that introduces us into it, places us in it,—Christ himself; for “through Him we have access by one Spirit unto the Father.” Christ is the revealer of the Father, the embodiment of the Father’s free love. Christ takes us by the hand, and leads us in to the Father’s presence; and thus led in by Him, we find there nothing but grace, favor, love. There is no other Introducer but He; there is no other introduction or recommendation but His blood. He leads us in, saying, Father, here is one who is willing to be indebted to me for everything, to my blood for cleansing, to my righteousness for covering, to my merit for acceptance, receive him graciously, love him freely. Thus by Christ we are introduced into the favor of God.
(2.) Abiding in it. It is a state of permanence, unchanging permanence. It is not free love today and law tomorrow, but free love perpetually henceforth; we are not under the law but under grace; where sin abounded, grace has much more abounded. We are not in favor one hour, and out of favor the next, according to our frames; but always in favor, through Him who has introduced us into a state, out of which we can never be cast. There may be much inconsistency, much conscious evil, much that is in itself fitted to separate us from God, or draw His frown upon us; but we are now in a state of favor,—and God deals with us now only in free love. This free love faith realizes; keeping us ever under a sense of it, “rooted and grounded in love.” Out of the happy consciousness of this, nothing but unbelief can drive us or keep us. Let us, then, know our privilege as believing men, and stand in this free love; let “us be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus.” It is often hard so to abide; to realize God’s free love in the midst of much conscious evil; but that is the condition of every one who has believed in Jesus; and on this free love he ever falls back when Satan would prompt him to despond, or lead him to self-righteousness. The remembrance of this free love will alone keep him in perfect peace. Nothing else will avail.
II. The glory. It is “the glory of God”; not the essential glory of the divine character, but the glory conferred on us by God; the glory of His kingdom; the glory of His glorious heaven; the glory of resurrection, when that which is sown in dishonour shall be raised in glory; the glory of the inheritance of the saints in light.
Connected with this glory there is first joy, and then hope.
(1.) Joy. The word is more properly to triumph, or boast, or exult. It is the expression of the soul’s exuberant fullness at the tidings of such a glory. It is joy more than sufficient to counterbalance all earthly sorrows, as well as to eclipse all earthly joys. We glory in the glory. We triumph every time we think of what God has promised to us, and will ere long bring to pass.
(2.) Hope. This glory is expressly given us as a hope, as something for hope to feed upon; an object large enough and bright enough to gladden the hoping eye, and fill the hoping soul. It is preeminently the thing hoped for, the “blessed hope.” We are men of hope. We are saved by hope. We love by hope. We are comforted by hope. We are sustained and sanctified by hope. It is a hope that maketh not ashamed. It will not fail nor disappoint. It will, when realized, prove itself to be worthy of the joy which it gave us here; worthy of that God who prepared it for us, of that Christ who bought it for us.
The root of all this is faith,—faith beginning at the cross and stretching forward to the throne; faith which brings us into the possession of the divine favor, and keeps us in perfect peace, looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of God.
Let us live the lives of believing men; at peace with God; rooted and grounded in love; free, happy, earnest, self-denied; never losing hold of the free love of God, and never losing sight of the glory to be revealed; walking not only in the love of God, but in the law of God, which is holy, and just, and good, keeping our eye continually on the “statutes,” and “judgments,” and “testimonies,” and “commandments” of the Lord our God, knowing that “great peace have they that love this law,” and that it is to this that we are called,—”that the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us who walk not after the flesh but after the Spirit.”
Do you think that, if no one prays for you, God will abandon you?
I ask because of the large number of “unspoken” prayer requests I’ve heard over the years. I don’t really think that those requests usually indicate an affirmative answer to my question. I just think that those who make those requests haven’t thought through the implications of the unspoken request, and I’m writing to ask them to think about it and, having thought about it, to stop making unspoken prayer requests.
If you want me to pray for you, tell me what you need. I don’t need the details. I understand that the details may be embarrassing and that public disclosure of everything might be inappropriate. (Tangential note to over-sharers: if you’re having surgery, I don’t need to know on what. This especially applies to anything reproductive or digestive. Unless you are a close friend, I don’t want to know. Tangent to the tangent, to recipients of prayer requests: don’t ask for details not offered unless you’re sure the petitioner will want to tell you. Your curiosity might be the reason some people don’t ask for prayer.) I will pray for a general need, just give me something general for which to pray. But surely there is someone whom you can trust with your personal requests. If not, you should consider 1) your own responsibility to build such relationships, and 2) whether or not your church is what it ought to be in terms of fellowship.
Getting back to my opening question, I acknowledge that you might find yourself in the tragic situation in which you have no one to bear your burdens. If that is the case, why bother telling those whom you do not trust with your heart? Because what I hear in your unspoken request is, “I don’t trust you, but I want you to pray for me.” Or is it because you think your own prayers are inadequate? If so, you need to trust God to be true to his word. James tells us to “pray for one another so that you may be healed. The effective prayer of a righteous man can accomplish much” (5:16). Will not the prayer of a righteous man [or woman, or child] for himself accomplish much, as well? And let us not forget the opening exhortation in that verse: “confess your sins to one another.” Could it be that your unspoken request comes from an unwillingness to confess your sin? Our Lord assures us that “Whatever you ask in My name, that will I do, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask Me anything in My name, I will do it” (John 14:13–14), and “if you ask the Father for anything in My name, He will give it to you. . . . ask and you will receive, so that your joy may be made full” (16:23–24). Peter exhorts us to cast “all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7).
He cares for you. If you have no one to trust, you have him. He does not ignore the lone petition. He will not abandon you. He will answer the prayer of one just as he would answer the prayers of many, because he cares for you.
Outside of a tremendous mustache, there is not much to like about Friedrich Nietzsche. I only half agree with his most famous statement, which titles this post. That half is illustrated in real life by the persecuted church.
John MacArthur shares lessons learned from ministry in the former Soviet Union:
Over the years I have ministered quite a lot in Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, and other parts of the former Soviet Union. The church in those countries, repressed by Communism for so many decades, is nonetheless vibrant and dynamic today. One of the significant things that struck me when I first began to minister there was the terminology that virtually all Russian-speaking believers us to describe conversion. They do not speak of accepting Christ as one’s personal Savior. They would never say merely that someone ‘made a decision for Christ’ or that the person ‘invited Jesus into his or her life’. The language they use is simple and entirely biblical: the new believer is someone who has repented. If a person shows no evidence of repentance, he or she would not be embraced as a Christian, no matter what sort of verbal profession of faith was made . . . by contrast, we live in a culture of such shallow religion that most o what goes by the name ‘Christian’ in Western society has little or no emphasis on repentance of any kind. The call to repentance has been deliberately omitted from the most popular gospel presentations of our generation.
Observing the vibrant spiritual life of the church “repressed by Communism for so many decades,” he wrote,
Your church’s greatest enemy isn’t the government, the culture, Hollywood producers, or the liberal media. Scripture states and history confirms that churches are strengthened under persecution and adversity. If our churches are to be destroyed, or rendered ineffective and stagnant, that will happen at the hands of her own people . . . One of my greatest fears for the church I pastor is that we would unwittingly abandon the vital principles that keep us healthy, growing, and strong. The day we cease clinging to those principles is the day we grow cold and dishonor God before a watching world. —Ibid., 153.
On the American penchant for turning faith into a means of “getting more from God”:
As I have studied God’s word and experienced both the exhilaration of spiritual victory and the discouragement of failure, I’m convinced the key to powerful living is not on getting more from God. The key is just the opposite. The moment we stop making demands on Him and offer ourselves as a living sacrifice is the moment we begin to please Him . . . From my own experience I know that being a living sacrifice is not an easy path. But sacrifice is absolutely necessary if we are ever to know the fullness of God’s blessing and render to Him the service He is due. —Ibid.
I like beer, too. What gourmet coffees and teas are to some folks, beer is to me. I enjoy tasting as many varieties as I can, and I collect the bottles. And, since there just isn’t enough variety in the world, I’ve recently taken up home brewing. How was my first batch? Not bad; thanks for asking.
The point of my “confession” is not to irritate or provoke. I tell you these things because I think knowing my perspective will be relevant to what I am about to write. I’m not a tea-totaler, nor do I think abstention is best, not even for church elders. But I’m also the guy (singular, it seems) who read John MacArthur’s post on Beer, Bohemianism, and True Christian Liberty, likes beer, and didn’t miss the point.
I do admit that I rolled my eyes a bit at his contention that
In biblical times, wine was necessary for health reasons. The risk of amoebae and parasites in drinking water could be significantly reduced or eliminated by mixing the water with a little wine (1 Timothy 5:23). The result was a greatly diluted wine that had virtually no potential for making anyone drunk. Purified tap water and refrigeration make even that use of wine unnecessary today.
This idea is no doubt the baggage of residual fundamentalism. I’ve never heard it supported in any substantive way, and don’t expect to. I don’t really know how to deal with this personally, except to admit that there are probably things I believe just because I’ve always believed them, because that’s what I’ve been taught to believe. It’s a frustrating thing to see in others, especially someone of MacArthur’s stature, but not so surprising. Publicly, I’ll just keep telling the truth about it when I have a positive reason to do so. I won’t (I hope) respond disrespectfully to my betters just because they get this wrong.
To the many who did, take heart. The generation that tends to hold this view is getting old, and soon will trouble us no more. Of course, we’ll lose the benefit of their wisdom then, but at least we’ll be able to drink to their memories, unencumbered by their scruples. It’s a fair trade, don’t you think? End sarcasm.
I do think it is unfortunate that MacArthur brought that into the discussion; it did distract from his point. Still, when I read the follow-up post, The Brouhaha over the Brew, I thought, “Yeah, I get it. I understand. It wasn’t that difficult. Can we move on now?”
So, moving on, this beer-lover didn’t miss the point: “It’s irresponsible and wrong for YRR leaders to make beer/wine-drinking one of the badges of the YRR movement.” In fact, I agree. Along with your tattoos, slovenly hair and dress, and “restless” affectation, many of you “young, restless, and Reformed” have elevated alcohol consumption to the level of a virtue. I am not calling you drunkards. You say you practice moderation (as every overweight Baptist at the pot-luck should), and I believe you. And I’m glad you are free to enjoy “wine which makes man’s heart glad” (Psalm 104:15). But I have, from reading several blogs, gotten the impression I might not fit in if I didn’t drink. I might not be cool enough to hang out with the boys if I don’t raise a pint. (By the way, in my opinion, all this “pub” and “pint” language in 21st century America only increases the evidence that your drinking is an affectation of wannabe coolness.) You might protest that that’s not you at all, but if I, lover of beer, has gotten that impression, what do you expect non-drinkers to think?
You object to this characterization. I think you protest too much. In any case, if MacArthur — and I — have got you all wrong on this, you have no one to blame but yourselves. If you talk enough about one thing, people will get the impression that it’s really important to you. At that point, crying “You don’t understand me!” only sounds like adolescent whining.
A couple of weeks ago, I commented that “Pentecostal/charismatic theology in all its shades is dangerous, and inherently non-Protestant.” Since I and many others have demonstrated that universally inclusive words like “all” (or exclusive words like “none”) are seldom meant absolutely universally, but rather, should be interpreted within their contexts, I want to specify that, in this case, I mean it universally. While I appreciate the sincere attempts of many so-called Reformed charismatics to be more biblical than their crazy uncles, and readily accept them as genuine spiritual siblings, the charismatic elements of their theology remain troublesome and inevitably nullify any attempts to separate themselves from outright charlatans like Benny Hinn and Todd Bentley.
Take, for example, Mark Driscoll (insert a Henny Youngman “. . . please” here). You have probably already have seen the video below, as posted by Phil Johnson. If not, you should go to the Pyromaniacs blog and read Phil’s analysis.
Warning: the verbal images Driscoll paints are, true to character, rated R.
I’ve addressed Driscoll’s offenses obliquely in The Parable of the Bookstores, but if I’m not forgetful, I think this is the first time I’ve mentioned him by name on this blog. Driscoll has been a troublesome character from the beginning. With his penchant for perverse talk, even pornifying Song of Songs under the pretense of preaching, his appeal has always been a mystery to me.
The video clip above is not new (February, 2008), nor is it the first time Driscoll has claimed to have received direct revelation from God. The legitimacy of his position as pastor of Mars Hill Church in Seattle is dependent on his claim that God spoke to him audibly. “God told me to move back home, start up a family and plant a church in Seattle,” he claims.
When I hear such claims, I think two things: the individual is either deceived, or lying. In the cases of Hinn, Bentley, and the like, I most often suspect simple fraud. In many other cases, I suspect it’s just wild imaginations, spiritualized by charismania. That is what I’ve thought of Driscoll, until now. Now I think he’s flat out making things up. If he had stopped with stories of his visions, I could have chalked it up to his well-documented dirty mind combined with a wild imagination. But when he added the “proof” of the confessions of his imaginary offenders, that was too much. No one, confronted with such accusations, accusations of things that could never be proven, simply says, “Yeah, I did that.” They lie. They deny it. Not one of Driscoll’s stories involved a denial. When I hear a story about a child molester who doesn’t lie about it, I know the story-teller is lying.
Albert N. Martin has written what looks like an excellent book for those who grieve (and who will not, at some time?). The following excerpt brings biblical perspective to the inevitable emotions of the bereaved.
Our emotions need objective truth to guide them, and the subjective power of the Holy Spirit must harness and channel them in a godly way. Our current cultural climate affords little help to think biblically about this, so consider three texts of Scripture that prove this point.
Ezekiel 24:15–18. God taught the people of Israel a vital lesson through the death of Ezekiel’s wife, by giving Ezekiel what might seem like a strange command not to mourn her loss: “Son of man, behold, I am about to take the delight of your eyes away from you at a stroke; yet you shall not mourn or weep, nor shall your tears run down. Sigh, but not aloud; make no mourning for the dead” (24:15-17a). Ezekiel responds in an amazing way: “So I spoke to the people in the morning, and at evening my wife died. And on the next morning I did as I was commanded.” (24:18). I cite this text not to suggest that we are not to mourn when we lose a dearly loved one. Rather, I cite it to demonstrate that it is possible for our emotions to be brought under the control of the Word of God. Ezekiel was able to say, “I did as I was commanded” because he did not regard his natural emotions as having ultimate authority over his.
1 Thessalonians 4:13. “But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have not hope.” In light of the death of their loved ones, Paul informs the minds of the Thessalonians so that what they know and believe will regulate and take precedence over their emotions. Paul obviously expects that the Thessalonians will grieve, yet he wants them to grieve in a distinctly Christian manner—one that will be patiently different form the way non-Christians grieve. Again, we see that we must not regard our emotions as ultimate. Rather, the objective truth of the Word of God informing the mind regulates the activity of the emotions through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Romans 12:15. “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” In giving this directive to all God’s people, the Holy Spirit does not insert parenthesis, saying “rejoice, (if you happen to be in a rejoicing mood)” or “Weep (if you happen to be in a weeping mood).” You may find yourself in a very exuberant mood, but when you come in contact with a brother of sister who is legitimately in a state of mourning, what should you do? You should recognize that your own present personal emotional state does not have ultimate authority over you. Rather, in Spirit-empowered self control, you can and should direct your mind to the concerns that brought your brother or sister into a weeping state, and you “weep” with them. The same is true with prospect to the mandate to “Rejoice with those who rejoice.”
Without question, if we will grieve to the glory of God, we must understand this second foundational principle from the Scriptures: Our emotions were not created by God to have ultimate authority over us. Where we fail in this area, as in any other, our guilt and sin are covered by the sacrifice of Christ on the cross. Yet the difficulty of his command, and our frequent failure in seeking to obey it, does not alter our calling. We must use the power of the indwelling Spirit to make an ongoing, scripturally directed effort to reign in our emotions.
Cruciform Press publishes one new book each month, and offers subscriptions in print or ebook formats for a very reasonable price. Books may also be purchased individually. For more information, visit www.cruciformpress.com.
I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”
Hymn 62.(c. m.) Christ Jesus, the Lamb of God, worshipped by all the creation. Rev. v. 11–13.
Come, let us join with cheerful songs With angels round the throne; Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, But all their joys are one.
“Worthy the Lamb that died,” they cry, “To be exalted thus:” “Worthy the Lamb,” our lips reply, “For he was slain for us.”
Jesus is worthy to receive Honor and power divine; And blessings more than we can give, Be, Lord, for ever thine.
Let all that dwell above the sky, And air, and earth, and seas, Conspire to lift thy glories high, And speak thine endless praise.
The whole creation join in one, To bless the sacred name Of him that sits upon the throne, And to adore the Lamb.
—from The Psalms & Hymns of Isaac Watts. Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book I: Collected from the Holy Scriptures (Soli Deo Gloria, 1997).
10 For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son, much more, having been reconciled, we shall be saved by His life.
—Romans 5
There are four distinct facts or events given us here, on which the argument of the passage builds itself. Two of these have reference to the history of the sinner, and two of them to tile history of the sinner’s deliverer. The first two are, man’s enmity and man’s reconciliation; the last two are, the Saviour’s death and the Saviour’s life. Out of these four facts the apostle’s argument is constructed—an argument as profound as it is simple, as convincing as it is natural. It is apparently but one argument, and yet it divides itself very easily into three quite separate parts, rising out of these two classes of facts. The first argument is—“If God did so much for us when enemies, what will He do for us when friends?” The second is—“If Christ’s death has done so much for us, what will His life do?” The third argument is—“If Christ’s death did so much for us when enemies, what will his life do for us when friends?”
Such is the argument of our text,—threefold in its construction, and yet each part not merely linked to the other, but most naturally and simply rising out of the other, so that a person in possession of the facts could not help following time steps of his reasoning, and acquiescing in his triumphant conclusions. But before proceeding to consider these, there is a truth which may be brought out here, and kept in mind as we pass along, being implied in and illustrative of time argument. It is this— “If God’s thoughts were gracious before sending His Son, they cannot be supposed to be less ‘so after He has been sent.” Now, we know that His thoughts were thoughts of peace and grace from all eternity. Had they not been so, He never would have sent His Son. And we know that it is written: “God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son;” “God commendeth His love towards us, in that, while ye were yet sinners, Christ died for us;” “Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us, and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins.” There having been in His infinite bosom this exceeding love before He gave His Son, it is wholly incredible that He should be less gracious now, less compassionate, less loving, less willing to bestow all needed gifts. For (1) that gift did not exhaust His love. It did not empty the heart of God, nor dry up the fountain of His grace. God’s love is not like man’s love, ebbing and flowing, bursting forth and then subsiding.’ No. The gift, though unspeakable, was not the exhaustion but the manifestation of the love, demonstrating it to be an infinite love, and shewing the infinite lengths to which it is willing to go. So far from having made God unwilling to do more for us, it has proved that there are no limits to His willingness to do for us exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think. (2.) That gift has not thrown any hindrance in the way of God’s love. It is not now a more difficult thing for God to love us; nay, if we can say so, it is easier than ever. All hindrances have now melted away. That gift which displayed the love, contained in it provision for the removal of all barriers that stood in its way. There are now no breaks nor barriers to stay its course. It is at liberty to roll on unhindered in its amplest fullness. It is now a righteous thing in God to love, to pardon, and to bless. And will He love less now that there exist no longer any obstacles to check the course of love? Will He love less when His love is no longer pent up, but has free course; when He is free to love; nay, to give vent to it, even to the uttermost;—nay, when in doing so, He magnifies His law, glorifies Himself, and puts honour on His Son? Instead, then, of God’s loving us less, we should be led to conclude, that, if that were possible, He must love us immeasurably more!
Having thus briefly noticed this important truth, we now pass on to consider time three special heads of argument.
1. If God did so much for us when enemies, what will he do, or rather, what will He not do, for us now that we are friends? He is speaking, of course, in the name of those who have entered into reconciliation over time blood of the great sacrifice—who, in believing, have found peace with God, and have exchanged enmity for friendship, hatred for love. Speaking in their name, he reasons “If, when we were enemies, He reconciled us to Himself, much more now, when reconciled, will He bless us. Our enmity did not hinder His blessing us, much less surely will our reconciliation. Our enmity, great as it was, did not hinder His bestowing such an unspeakable gift; what is there, then, within the whole circle of the universe, which we may not count upon, now that that enmity has been removed, and we have entered into eternal friendship with Him? Nothing was too costly for us when we were enemies; can anything be too costly now that we are friends. The great difficulty of our enmity being surmounted, what is there that remains to hinder the fullest outflow of His hove? Nay, what is there that will not tend to draw out that love in larger and larger measures?”
He loved and blessed us when enemies; will He not much more love us when friends? He loved us when we hated Him; will He not love us more when we return His love? He loved us when aliens, strangers, prodigals; will He not love us more when we have become sons, and, as sons, have returned to the parental home, and have received the spirit of adoption, whereby we cry “Abba, Father”? He loved us when unrighteous,—when we had not even so much as a creature’s righteousness,—will He not love us unspeakably more when we stand before Him in righteousness, and that the righteousness of His only-begotten Son? He loved us when unholy; will He not love us now when His Spirit has taken old timings away, and made all things new? He loved us when there dwelt in us only the spirit of the world, nay, the very god of this world himself; will He not love us when His own Spirit dwells in us, making us temples of the living God? He loved us when we were heirs of wrath; will He not love and bless us more when we are heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ?
There may be said to be three stages in this love, at each of which it rises and increases:—First, He loved us when enemies. Secondly, He loves us more when friends, even in this imperfect state of still-remaining sin. Thirdly, He will love us yet more when imperfection has been shaken off, and we are presented without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing. The first stage of this love is, when we were heirs of perdition; the second is, when we become heirs of the kingdom; the third is, when we actually get possession of the kingdom, and are seated with Christ upon His throne.
Here, then, is love in which we may assuredly triumph. It was love which expressed itself by an infinite gift. It did so when we were afar off when we were enemies; what expression, then, will it give, or rather, what expression will it not give to itself now when we have been brought nigh to God, and have entered into covenant with Him? Nay, more, what a portion must be ours hereafter, what a sum of blessedness, what an exceeding and eternal weight of glory! Especially when, in giving vent to His love to us, He is getting vent to His love towards His Son; when, in honouring and glorifying us, He is honouring and glorifying His Son! Being, then, justified by faith, not only have we peace with God, not only have we access into this grace wherein we stand, but we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. We reason thus: If God has lavished on us such a love when we knew Him not, what will He not do for us now that we know Him? If He is loving us and blessing us here, oh! will He not love us and bless us in the day when we take possession of the provided inheritance?
II. If Christ’s death did so much for us, what will not His life do? If a dying Saviour did so much for us, what will not a living Saviour be able to do?
The expression “saved” used here, denotes the whole blessing which God has in store for us—complete deliverance in every sense of that word—a complete undoing of our lost estate—the full possession of every blessing. Salvation, in God’s sense of it, takes in the very widest compass of blessing, from the forgiveness of the first sin to the possession of the eternal glory. Of this salvation, reconciliation was the commencement. In being brought nigh to God through the blood of the cross, our salvation began. Its consummation is, when Jesus comes the second time without sin unto salvation.
The apostle’s argument rests on the fact of the existence of these two opposite states of being—the two opposite extremities of being, death and life. Death is the lowest pitch of helplessness, lower even than the feebleness of infancy. It is the extremity of weakness. It is the utter cessation of all strength. Life is the opposite of this. It is the full possession of being, with all its faculties and powers. It is the guarantee for the forth putting of all the vigor and strength which belongs to the individual in whom it dwells. And it is thus that the apostle reasons: If Christ in His lowest state of weakness accomplished such marvels for us, what will He not be able to do for us now that He is in the full exercise of His almighty strength? If when reduced to the very extremity of helplessness, He did so much for us, what will He not do for us now when He can say, All power is given to me in heaven and in earth? If, when going down into the tomb, He yet wrought such achievements for us, what will He not do when rising from the tomb, nay, ascending on high? If when under the power of His enemies, and nailed in helpless agony on the tree, He yet prevailed in our behalf how will He not prevail now that He has triumphed over all? If when made a little lower than the angels, He did so much for us, what will He not do when raised far above principalities and powers, and every name that is named? If, when subjected to the dominion of him who had the power of death, He yet conquered for us, and won such glorious spoils, what will He not do now when He has led captivity captive, and completed His mighty victory? If the cross and the tomb have done so much for us, what will not the throne secure?
How perfect the reasoning! How blessed the conclusion! Resting on such an argument, we may stand unshaken and unruffled. Using this as our shield, what fiery darts of the wicked one may we not repel? And shall we not ply it to the utmost in dispelling our darkness, in banishing our doubts, in making us thoroughly ashamed of our fears? Using it as time apostle does, and reasoning with ourselves—“If a dying Saviour did so much for us, what will not a living Saviour do?” let us say, “Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? still trust in God; for I shall yet praise Him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.”
III. If Christ’s death did so much for us when enemies, what will not His life do for us when friends? In other words, If a dying Saviour did so much for us when enemies, what will not a living Saviour do for us when friends? This is the conjunction of the two previous conclusions. It completes the whole argument by thus putting the two into one. It is a double argument; double in its structure, and double in its strength. It is an argument of resistless power, making us feel the perfect and absolute security which we have for everything included in that word salvation. If enemies have tasted such love, and received such blessings, at the hands of a dying Saviour, what may not friends receive at the hands of Him who is not only alive, but liveth for evermore? If, in the extremity of His weakness, and in the extremity of our alienation, such wonders were wrought for us—in spite of that weakness on His part, and that alienation on ours—what may we not expect now that He is invested with the perfection of all power, and when we have not simply been reconciled, but have been made friends and sons, nay, taken to His bosom as His chosen bride? If a father, in the midst of poverty and weakness, will do much for a prodigal child, what will he not, in the day of his riches, and power, and honour, do for a reconciled son?
Here, then, are two truths which, in assuring us of pardon, assure us of everything. “Jesus died, and Jesus liveth,”—these are the truths which contain everything for us. “Jesus died!”—that contains everything that we need for reconciliation and peace: “Jesus liveth!”—that contains everything pertaining to the promised inheritance. In knowing the former, I enter into friendship with God; in knowing the latter, I get hold of a security for all heavenly blessing, which takes away the possibility of a suspicion arising in my soul, even in my most troubled hours, as to my joy and glory for eternity. “Jesus died—Jesus liveth!” The simple knowledge of these simple truths is salvation, forgiveness, peace, eternal life. All that the death and life of Christ combined can accomplish is ours! All that can come forth from His grave, or down from His throne,— all that a dying and a living Saviour can do, is ours! All that is embraced in the wide compass between the lowest depths of the tomb of Jesus and the infinite heights of His eternal crown, all is ours! Many were the wonders which His death achieved for enemies; many more will be the wonders yet to be accomplished for His friends!
Hear how Scripture speaks of His life. “When He who is our life shall appear, then shall we also appear with Him in glory.” His appearing as our life shall bring with it all that blessedness and glory which pertain to Him as the living One—as our life. “Because I live ye shall live also.” He cannot die; He liveth forever. He is the resurrection and the life; therefore life, and all that life comprises, shall be ours. “He ever liveth to make intercession for us.” He lives as if just on purpose to intercede for us; and oh, what will not the intercession of this ever living One secure for us! “Fear not,” He says, “I am He that liveth and was dead; and am alive for evermore; and have the keys of hell and death.” What more can we need, not simply to dissipate all fear, but to call up in us the most assured hope—nay, to fill us with the joy unspeakable and full of glory?
Of what, then, is it that this life of Christ gives us the assurance? Of salvation says the apostle: “We shall be saved by His life.” Reconciliation is the result of His death; salvation, of His life!
But what does this salvation include? It is, as we have already seen, the entire reversal of our lost estate. And this includes much. It is, in the very largest sense, a “manifold salvation.” It is deliverance from the wrath to come, from the horrors of an eternal hell. Of this, His death gives us the assurance; His life, much more; for hell itself, with all its powers and potentates, cannot prevail against Him who has subdued its prince. It is deliverance from guilt. However infinite that guilt may be, there is entire salvation from it all, salvation sure and irreversible. It is deliverance from sin. It assails sin in its very citadel, the inmost soul, and casts it out. No amount of corruption can withstand it. Self gives way, the flesh is crucified; the old man dies; the inward man is renewed day by day. It is deliverance from death,—the death both of body and soul, the first and second death. The Saviour has shaken the grave, and flung open its gates. Life,—life beyond the tomb, life in resurrection,—is what He has secured for us. “I am the resurrection and the life”; “Because I live ye shall live also”; “I have the keys of hell and death.” Thus he speaks to us assuring us of redemption from the power of the grave. It is deliverance from want. His fullness takes away the possibility of any want, from the moment that our connection with Him began. Want from that time became impossible; for all His riches became ours. His fullness was always at command. It is deliverance from enemies and perils. Many and mighty as these might be, they could not affect us. We were beyond their reach. They might aim at us, but they could not harm. Our victory over them was sure.
And as we are thus assured not only of reconciliation but of salvation from all evil in every form, so are we put in possession of every good. “All things” become ours: for He who saves us makes full provision for His saved ones. All that a dying Saviour could secure for us is freely given; nay more, all that a living Saviour possesses for Himself becomes also ours. Joy, glory, dominion, royalty, priesthood, and a boundless inheritance,—all these are ours, and all of them made irreversibly sure to us from the fact that “Jesus liveth.” He was dead and is alive; yea, and He liveth for evermore. This is our pledge for the perpetuity of our possession. He lives; and all that a living Saviour can do for us shall be done. He ever liveth to make intercession for us: what more do we need to assure us that “things present, things to come, life and death,” all are ours; for we are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s? If His death made such a glorious commencement for us when we were enemies, what will not His life carry out and consummate for us now that we are friends?
Here, then, let us rest, for surely the resting place is a sufficient one. With arguments such as those of the apostle, let us confront Satan, breaking all his snares, overthrowing all his might; and disentangling ourselves from his subtlest sophistries. On grounds such as these, let us cast aside the various processes of doubting through which so many seem to think it necessary to pass; not listening to the whispers of unbelief, but meeting them all with the resistless argument of our text.
Here, too, let us greatly rejoice, turning this argument into a song of triumph; for surely it is both. It is as much the latter as it is the former. And more especially let us do so in these last days, when we are looking for the return of this same living Saviour. The prospect of His speedy arrival seems to impart to it double edge and force. Carrying out the argument we can say, If an absent Saviour has done so much for us, what will not a present Saviour do? If, when afar off, He has done such things for us, what will He not do when He is nigh? If the Man of Sorrows did so much for us, what will not the mighty Conqueror do? If, when put to shame, He did such great things for us, what will He not do when He is glorified? If, upon the cross, He so blessed and befriended us, what may we not expect when He sits upon His throne? If when He appeared on earth without form or comeliness, He wrought such wonders for us, what may we not look for when He comes in His beauty as the Church’s Bridegroom? If, when He came as the son of the carpenter,—the despised son of Mary,—He achieved such victories and won such honours for us, what may we not anticipate when He comes in glory as the King of kings and Lord of lords.
Albert Martin cites two passages that should be memorized by “every Christian who wishes to grieve and die well.”
Second Corinthians 5:6–8. Paul declares to the church at Corinth his conviction that while he is “at home in the body” he is at the same time “away from the Lord.” He also declares his preference to “be away from the body and at home with the Lord.” Paul is absolutely confident that the moment his spirit leaves the body, he will instantly be in the presence of the Lord. And this is true for all who believe in the Lord Jesus:
So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.
In every instance, Paul uses “we,” not “I.” Whether his subject is being at home in the body and absent from the Lord, being absent from the body and at home with the Lord, Paul constantly uses the first-person plural. The wonder of being instantly with Christ after death is not something reserved for saints of Paul’s stature. We will all know the same extraordinary joy.
. . .
Philippians 1:21–23. in this second passage, Paul affirms his confidence that death will be gain for him, but he also discloses his internal spiritual tug-of-war:
For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better.
On the one hand, he longs to be in the immediate presence of his Savior. On the other hand, he recognizes the Philippians’ need for his ongoing apostolic and pastoral labors. In the midst of conveying these thoughts he makes a simple and uncomplicated statement: “My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better.”
Paul clearly does not think of death as ushering in some kind of “soul sleep” or “spirit anesthesia” until the day of resurrection. . . .
Dear child of God, have you faced the fact that you have both a right and a duty to know what is the immediate sequel to death for your dearest loved ones who die in Christ? On the basis of these two texts of Scripture, you have a right and a duty to believe and confidently expect that those who die in Christ are, in the full consciousness of their existence, immediately ushered into the very presence of the glorified lord Jesus Christ. You can know and rejoice through your tears that their death is gain, and that their gain is nothing less than ravishing face-to-face communion and fellowship with the Savior who has won their trust and captured the supreme affection of their hearts.
Cruciform Press publishes one new book each month, and offers subscriptions in print or ebook formats for a very reasonable price. Books may also be purchased individually. For more information, visit www.cruciformpress.com.
A lot can be implied in a simple question like that, depending on who is asking and who is being asked, so you shouldn’t jump to conclusions about the individuals involved. However, lacking some deeper understanding, that’s a really bad question. It makes the choice of a church subjective, dependent on personal preferences. Ask, instead, “Have you found a biblical church?”
When you are looking for a church, don’t look for one that makes you comfortable. (This is not a call to intentionally go “outside your ‘comfort zone,’” or any other trendy pseudo-spiritual cliché.) Look for a body that is biblical in doctrine and practice, and then love that church. If you can’t be comfortable among brothers and sisters who are thinking and doing biblically, the problem is yours.
And a man of understanding will acquire wise counsel,
To understand a proverb and a figure,
The words of the wise and their riddles.
The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge;
Fools despise wisdom and instruction.
You’ve no doubt heard it: a piece of advice prefaced by the phrase, “A word to the wise . . .” Maybe you’ve said it yourself, or hearing it, like me have thought, “That doesn’t make sense. The ‘wise’ don’t need your advice. Shouldn’t it be ‘a word from the wise?” But as the proverb teaches us, only the wise will take advice. “Fools despise wisdom and instruction.” Good counsel, heard and received, is indeed “a word to the wise.”
Questions 33–35 itemize the differences between the old and new covenants. These differences are important to our understanding of redemptive history, and the catechism offers valuable instruction in them. However, while we frequently talk about the distinctions between the covenants, we less often think of the continuity of God’s redemptive plan that runs through them. While we cannot deny the new covenant language of the New Testament, and should rejoice that we now have a “better covenant,” we should not lose sight of the fact that “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever,” and so is his gospel. Old Testament saints were saved by the very same grace through the very same faith as we are. So, while not denying the newness of the new covenant, I prefer to think of it as completing the old, rather than replacing it.
When the hour had come, He reclined at the table, and the apostles with Him. And He said to them, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer; for I say to you, I shall never again eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.” And when He had taken a cup and given thanks, He said, “Take this and share it among yourselves; for I say to you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine from now on until the kingdom of God comes.” And when He had taken some bread and given thanks, He broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.” And in the same way He took the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in My blood.
—Luke 22:14–20
Since the Exodus, every generation of God’s people had commemorated their release from the bondage of Egypt by repeating the sacrifice of a Passover lamb. On that first Passover, the Lord had gone through the land of Egypt and killed every firstborn of man and beast. But at every home where the blood of the lamb was on the door, he passed over, sparing the lives within. By the blood of the lamb, they were spared, and they were set free. And every year following, God’s people were commanded to repeat the sacrifice as a memorial to the day.
Now Jesus gathers his disciples with him in the upper room to celebrate another Passover, but this one will be different. This Passover will be the transitioning point from the old to the new covenant.
This will be the last time God requires a death. When Jesus institutes the new covenant, he doesn’t slice off a hunk of lamb and declare, “this is my body,” even though that lamb was a type of Christ, and as much a symbol of a saving sacrifice as the bread and wine of the new covenant. That lamb has no place in the new covenant; a new lamb has come, a perfect lamb, this one truly without blemish, not only physically, but spiritually. The blood of this lamb, unlike the countless Passover lambs slaughtered by generations of Israelites, can atone for sins, once and for all. So we kill nothing and eat no flesh, yet a symbol of flesh is present in the bread. And since we kill nothing, there is also no blood, yet the symbol of the blood remains in the cup.
Now I join old and new. As the blood of the lamb sprinkled around the doors of Israel caused death to pass over, so the blood of the Lamb applied to our hearts causes death to pass over us. It is the same thing. As we gather on the Lord’s Day and take the bread and wine together, we also share communion with all the Old Testament saints in a new Passover. We sprinkle the blood of the Lamb on our posts and lintels and are not separated by old and new covenants, but joined together in Christ in a fulfilled covenant.
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There was an article, and there was a response, and I thought to myself, “No, ‘gay marriage’ will not change the behavior that causes HIV and other STDs.”
If homosexual men really wanted permanent monogamous relationships, the story would be different. But homosexual men want the same thing heterosexual men want: as much sex as possible with as many partners as possible. Heterosexual men are limited by the natural fact that women, in general, don’t share that desire. Furthermore, most cultures (until recently) have always said, “You can’t do that. You have to pick one.” Homosexual men have no such limits. Potential partners sharing a common lust, successful “scoring” increases exponentially. Furthermore, monogamy has never been an ideal of homosexual culture. Promiscuity has always been the norm. Therefore, “gay” culture is what it is: men having as much sex as possible with as many other men as possible. Surely, there will be a relative few homosexual couples settling down together, and the newsbots will fuss and fawn over them, but ignored by the pro-gay media and politicians will be the vast majority, still having as much . . . well, you know. So it has always been, so it will always be.
Two weeks ago, I completed my pass through the The Concordia Hymnal, concluding the Hymns of My Youth series. Or so I thought. Then it occurred to me that, while Concordia had been the primary hymnal of the churches in which I was raised, each of those churches had secondary hymnals (“. . . turn to Number 238 in the red hymnal . . .”). I happen to have a couple of them, and having wanted something similar with which to fill Saturdays, I’m starting this second series in the hymnal Great Hymns of the Faith. It’s a Baptist hymnal, full of those cheesy gospel songs that Baptists love (Concordia has its share of bad songs, too), but it has a lot of good hymns, too.
Today’s hymn isn’t a hymn, but a liturgical piece. Back in the old days, before we learned that Jesus is our boyfriend and wants us to sing songs about falling in love with him, a Sunday School in a small town in South Dakota opened each Lord's Day with this call to worship from Habakkuk 2:20.
What profit is the idol when its maker has carved it,
Or an image, a teacher of falsehood?
For its maker trusts in his own handiwork
When he fashions speechless idols.
Woe to him who says to a piece of wood, “Awake!”
To a mute stone, “Arise!”
And that is your teacher?
Behold, it is overlaid with gold and silver,
And there is no breath at all inside it.
But the Lord is in His holy temple.
Let all the earth be silent before Him.
—Habakkuk 2:15–20
The Lord Is in His Holy Temple
The Lord is in His holy temple, The Lord is in His holy temple: Let all the earth keep silence, Let all the earth keep silence before Him— Keep silence, keep silence before Him.
Come from on high, my King and God, My confidence thou art; Display the virtue of thy blood, And circumcise my heart.
From heav’n, thy holy place, on me Descend in mercy down; Water of life, I thirst for thee, To know thee for my own.
Rend, O rend the guilty veil, That keeps me from my God; Remove the bar, and let me feel That I am thine abode.
O might this worthless heart of mine The Saviour’s temple be! Empty’d of ev’ry love but thine, And shut to all but thee!
—The Complete Works of Augustus Toplady (Sprinkle Publications, 1987).
19 . . . the revealing of the sons of God.
—Romans 8
The name, sons of God, is not exclusively applicable to the church. Angels are called sons (Job 38:7); so is Adam (Luke 3:38); so is Israel (Hosea 1:10). Yet the redeemed get that name in a deeper, fuller sense, by reason of their higher standing and their closer connection with the Son of God (1 John 3:1; Romans 8:17, 29; Revelation 21:7). There are thus outer and inner, higher and lower, circles of sonship; Christ the one center; and His redeemed occupying the innermost circle or region nearest to Himself, and nearest to the Father.
The history of these “sons,”—these heirs of God and joint-heirs with Christ, the redeemed from among men,—divides itself into the following parts or epochs:
I. Their past eternity. They had a history ere they were born; not conscious to themselves, but truly in the eye and purpose of God. (Roman 8:29; Ephesians 1:3, 5; 2 Timothy 1:9; Revelation 17:8.) In these passages the history of each saint and of the church of God is traced to that eternity in which God only existed. Even then they were sons of God by anticipation; sons of God in the Father’s purpose, and in the everlasting covenant. How marvelous, how glorious their history!
II. Their unregenerate life on earth. They were born no better than others; shapen in iniquity; children of wrath; able to claim kindred only with the first Adam, only with the flesh and with earth; not a vestige of the second Adam about them; no trace of heavenly sonship; no lineament of their Father in heaven; walking according to the course of this world; hateful and hating one another; their hearts “enmity against God.”
III. Their adoption. In God’s purpose this adoption stood from eternity; but it was seen when they actually passed out of the family of the evil one into that of God. When they were begotten again they became sons, receiving the name, privileges, legal rights of Sons. Let us note the different statements of Scripture as to these things:
(1.) They are begotten again. (1 Peter 1:3.) They are born of time Spirit (John 3:3), born from above. (2.) They believe. (Galatians 3:26.) They pass out of the region of unbelief into that of faith. In believing they become sons. (3.) They receive Christ. (John 1:12.) They accept the Father’s testimony to Him as the Son of God, and the Christ of God.
(4.) They get the name of sons. (1 John 3:1) They are now “called” sons of God. This is their new name, given by God himself.
(5.) They receive the spirit of adoption. (Galatians 4:5,6.) A new spirit fills them; the spirit of sonship; and, “Abba, Father,” is their cry.
(6.) They are led by the Spirit. (Roman 8:14.) They are not their own guides; nor do they trust in human guidance; but are led by Him.
(7.) They are chastened. (Hebrew 12:7.) Discipline is their lot; and chastisement is the badge of sonship.
(8.) They are brought to glory. (Hebrew 2:10.) To this are they redeemed and called. “Whom He justified, them He also glorified.”
(9.) They are made like Christ himself. (Romans 8:29; 1 John 3:2.) Conformity to the Son of God is their destiny and their privilege: “We shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.”
IV. Their time of obscurity. For a season they are hidden; men’s eyes are holden so that they do not recognize them; they are in disguise; the world does not believe that they are what they claim to be, or that their prospects are so very glorious. Their life is hid with Christ in God. It doth not yet appear what they shall be. They do not wear the raiment either of kings or of sons. They are strangers and pilgrims. This is the day of their obscurity and non-acknowledgment by men. As it was with their Lord, so with them. He was unknown and unrecognized; nay, despised and rejected. This is the discipline through which they are passing; this the manner in which they glorify the Father upon earth; this the trial of their faith, and this the touchstone of the world’s willingness to own their Lord. Are we content with obscurity?
V. The manifestation. The obscurity does not last always; nay, not long. The day is coming when the disguise shall drop off, and their royal robes display themselves; when He who is their life shall appear, they shall appear with Him. Then shall they be like Him to whom they adhered in the day of sorrow and gloom. But let us see, (1.) What this manifestation is. (The word is the same as in 1 Corinthians 1:7; 2 Thessalonians 1:7; 1 Peter 1:7, 13; 4:13.) It is revelation, or outshining, or transfiguration. They are in this conformed to their Lord. They were like Him in their obscurity; they shall be like Him in their manifestation. It shall be transfiguration glory; resurrection glory; royal glory; bridal glory; priestly glory. What a contrast between the obscurity and the manifestation will be presented in that day of unveiling, when they shall shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father. What a future is ours! how unlike our present!
(2.) When shall the manifestation be? In the day of Christ’s appearing; not in the day of death. The soul of the saint is blessed when he dies; he is with Christ in Paradise; but still the glory is not full, and the body is still in the grave; the grave is part of our obscurity. But when time Lord descends from heaven, then the dead in Christ shall rise; then this corruptible shall put on incorruption, and death be swallowed up in victory.
(3.) How long shall the manifestation be? Forever. A whole eternity of glory. Our obscurity was but a day; our glory is everlasting. We are to shine as the brightness of the firmament, and as the stars forever and ever. What a blaze of splendor will break forth from the glorified church, in the day of manifestation! What, in comparison with this, is the brightness of the sun or stars?
Let us walk worthy of our prospects; content with present obscurity and shame; “passing the time of our sojourning here in fear.”
John MacArthur has lately been criticized for claiming never to have suffered from depression. It is thought that that can’t possibly be true, or if it is, it exposes some great defect. I believe it is an evidence of grace in his life, and not difficult to believe at all. The source of that emotional stability, I believe, can be seen in the following excerpt from Iain Murray.
The greatest privilege of my ministry that I have, is not the time I spend with people, it is the time I get to spend with Him. And the cultivation of the knowledge of Him in the study of the Word of God, and prayer and meditation, is the heart and soul of my life and the greatest joy of the ministry for me. Whatever may happen out there, or might not happen out there, whatever changes or doesn’t change, whatever disappoints or encourages, the Lord never changes; and it is in His love that I find the constancy for my life, the strength for ministry, and the joy as well.
How much more spiritually, mentally, and emotionally stable might we all be if our thoughts were more focused on our Lord and his Word, and our expectations invested wholly in him?
Sitting at the table after lunch today, discussing the flaws of continuationism, I was trying to conclude with a summary statement: “Charismatic theology is . . .” I paused to search for a word, when my thirteen year old son broke in, “Hoo-ha!”
“Yes,” I replied, “‘hoo-ha.’ That’s a great theological term.” I think I will turn the morning Bible teaching over to him.
A few years ago, while reading Iain Murray’s Revival & Revivalism, I became interested in some of the major players in that time in American history, most notably, Asahel Nettleton. Looking to the footnotes for Murray’s sources, I found The Life and Labours of Asahel Nettleton. I promptly went looking for a used hardcover (it is now available in paperback only). I began reading it, but for some reason didn’t finish. I intend to repent of that failure now. While I get started, I leave you with the following, originally posted in June 2007.
The book contains an account of Nettleton’s conversion, as it was published in the Connecticut Evangelical Magazine. Nettleton was apparently raised in a religious home, but it appears doubtful that his parents were genuine believers. That atmosphere gave rise to a moralistic, self-righteous view of salvation. He wrote, “From my earliest age I endeavored to lead a moral life, being often taught that God would punish sinners; but I did not believe that I should suffer for the few offences of which I had been guilty.” when he was eighteen years old, he heard sermons on two separate occasions which caused him to “think of the need of a change of heart” and that he might have “quenched the Spirit, which occasioned me the most alarming fears, that should for ever be left to eat the fruit of my own ways.” Nettleton continues,
Supposing I was alone in the thoughts of eternity, I separated myself from all company, and determined to seek an interest in Christ. I concluded something must be done to appease God’s anger. I read, and prayed, and strove in this selfish way, the more anxious I was; and hope was given. Soon I began to murmur and repine, and accused God of the greatest injustice in requiring me to return to him; and while I was striving with all my might, as I supposed, he appeared not to regard me. I considered God obligated to love me, because I had done so much for Him; and finding no relief, I wished that He might not be, and began really to doubt the truths of His Holy Word, and to disbelieve His existence; for if there was a God, I perfectly hated Him. I searched the Scriptures daily, hoping to find inconsistencies in them, to condemn the Bible, because it was against me; and while I was diligently pursuing my purpose, everything I read, and every sermon I heard, condemned me. Christian conversation gave me the most painful sensations.
Nettleton was apparently not receiving a very seeker-sensitive message. In an age in which the most popular “preachers” in the largest “churches” assiduously avoid any speech that might cause sinners to feel “condemned” or experience “painful sensations,” there is much we can learn from Nettleton’s testimony; for it was that condemnation and pain that drove him to the conviction that there was something in himself from which he needed to be saved, and nothing in himself that could accomplish that salvation.
I tried to repent, but I could not feel the least sorrow for my innumerable sins. By endeavoring to repent, I saw my heart still remained impenitent. Although I knew I hated everything serious, yet I determined to habituate myself to the duties which God required, and see if I could not, by that means, be made to love Him; and I continued in this state some months. The fear of having committed the unpardonable sin, now began to rise in my mind, and I could find no rest day nor night. When my weary limbs demanded sleep, the fear of awaking in a miserable eternity prevented the closing of my eyes; and nothing gave me ease. No voice of mirth, of sound whatever, was heard, but what reminded me of the awful day when God shall bring every word into judgment. All self-righteousness failed me; and, having no confidence in God, I was left in deep despondency.
After awhile, a surprising tremor seized all my limbs, and death appeared to have taken hold upon me. Eternity—the word Eternity—sounded louder than any voice I ever heard; and every moment of time seemed more valuable than all the wealth of the world. Not long after this, an unusual calmness pervaded my soul, which I thought little of at first, except that I was freed from my awful convictions; and this sometimes grieved me, fearing I had lost all conviction. Soon after, hearing the feelings of a Christian described, I took courage, and thought I knew, by experience, what they were. The character of God, and the doctrines of the Bible, which I could not meditate upon before without hatred, especially those of election and free grace, now appear delightful, and the only means by which, through grace, dead sinners can be made the living sons of God. My heart feels its sinfulness. To confess my sins to God, gives me that peace which before I knew nothing of. To sorrow for it, affords that joy which my tongue cannot express. Were I sensible that, at death, my hope would perish, yet it seemeth to me now, that I could not willing quit the service of God, nor the company of Christians. But my unfaithfulness often makes me fear my sincerity; and should I at last be raised to glory, all the praise will be to God for the exhibition of His sovereign grace.
Nettleton’s testimony resembles my own in many ways. I am so thankful that I was raised, just barely, before “self-esteem” became the new gospel. I am grateful that no one tried to convince me of my own self-worth. As I have stated previously in my testimony, I was raised with some rather mixed-up theology. However, the doctrine of sin, and my own sinfulness and need for a Savior, was taught quite clearly and correctly. While my inherited theology did not quite lead me to a settled assurance of salvation, it did give me the necessary starting point—conviction of sin—so that I can echo these words of Asahel Nettleton: “To confess my sins to God, gives me that peace which before I knew nothing of. To sorrow for it, affords that joy which my tongue cannot express.”
“Listen 
