Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Only For the Asking

"How much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!" Luke 11:13

In a sermon preached in 1740, Jonathan Edwards pointed out that we ask God for basically two kinds of things. We ask him for temporal blessings like health and jobs and family needs. We also ask him for spiritual blessings. But Edwards noted how much more frequently and fervently we ask for temporal blessings:

"They don't need any preaching to stir them up to take thorough care to obtain those outward things. . . . And if they begin to suffer for want of those things, how much do they make of their sufferings! . . . Had God nothing better to bestow upon you, when he had made you his children, than a little money or land, that you seem so much to behave yourselves as if you thought this was your chief good? . . . I am bold to say that God is now offering the blessing of his Holy Spirit to this town, and I am bold to say we may have it only for the asking."

From Christ is Deeper Still

Friday, September 25, 2009

From Redeemer Presbyterian's Twitter

We can't pick up the Bible and obey its will for our lives without belonging to a community of people who are doing the same thing.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Packer on Trials

In Knowing God (p. 97) J. I. Packer writes about how to understand the “unexpected and upsetting and discouraging things” that happen to us. What do they mean?

Simply that God in his wisdom means to make something of us which we have not attained yet, and he is dealing with us accordingly.

(Suggestion: resist the skimming temptation and read that line over again.)

Then Packer ponders the possible purposes God might have in mind for you:

Perhaps he means to strengthen us in patience, good humor, compassion, humility, or meekness, by giving us some extra practice in exercising these graces under especially difficult conditions.

Perhaps he has new lessons in self-denial and self-distrust to teach us.

Perhaps he wishes to break us of complacency, or unreality, or undetected forms of pride and conceit.

Perhaps his purpose is simply to draw us closer to himself in conscious communion with him; for it is often the case, as all the saints know, that fellowship with the Father and the Son is most vivid and sweet, and Christian joy is greatest, when the cross is heaviest. . . .

Or perhaps God is preparing us for forms of service of which at present we have no inkling.

He goes on:

We may be frankly bewildered at things that happen to us, but God knows exactly what he is doing, and what he is after, in his handling of our affairs. Always, and in everything, he is wise: we shall see that hereafter, even where we never saw it here. . . . Meanwhile, we ought not to hesitate to trust his wisdom, even when he leaves us in the dark.

But how should we respond to baffling and trying situations when cannot now see God’s purpose in them?

First, by taking them as from God, and asking ourselves what reactions to them, and in them, the gospel of God requires of us;

second, by seeking God’s face specifically about them.

“If we do these two things,” Packer writes, “we shall never find ourselves wholly in the dark as to God’s purpose in our troubles.”

From Between Two Worlds

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Falling in Love with the Church -- again (Derek Thomas)

“Love me, love my dog,” they say, and my poor dog has been sick all summer and continues to be in bad shape. But it is not dogs I am writing about here; it is the church. Jesus seems to say, again and again: “Love me, love my church.”
Something is terribly wrong when professing Christians do not identify with the church and love being a part of her. Something is wrong when professing Christians fail to be passionate about every aspect of the church and long to invest themselves in her, taking all that the church represents and does to heart. Listen, for example, to the way Paul instructs the Ephesians: “Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish” (Eph. 5:25-27).
I fell in love with the church the moment I was converted as a freshman in college in 1971. Having never attended any church until then, I discovered a community that was, to me, like a family: caring, loving, and nourishing. The church I found was able to tell me that I was wrong about some things without driving me away. I knew that I was loved. The church showed me acts of kindness and fellowship that I recall with affection to this day. I was introduced to expository preaching from the start - a style of preaching that puts the Bible above the personality and idiosyncrasies of the preacher. I discovered communal prayer times, and joyful singing, all of which have been the mainstay of my Christian life ever since. True, I have had my share of worship wars, when Christians disagree over important things and sometimes trivial things; but for all that, I have taken delight in her rituals of song and sacrament, prayer and proclamation, more times than I can relate. I love the church. I fully endorse Calvin’s way of putting it (and the shadow of Cyprian that lies behind it): “For there is no other way to enter into life unless this mother conceive us in her womb, give us birth, nourish us at her breast, and lastly, unless she keep us under her care and guidance until, putting off mortal flesh, we become like the angels” (Inst. 4.1.4). In the church, I have discovered saints and angels (though not, as far as I know, real angels). I have witnessed deeds of extraordinary kindness done to myself and to others, and I have been the beneficiary of kindnesses done to me by those who remained anonymous.
Yes, there is a dark side to the church as there is to all things in this fallen world. The church is not perfect. It has her share of malcontents and killjoys, her energy-sapping attention-getters and despondent hearts. Adullam’s cave has nothing on some churches I have seen, but none of this robs me of my love for the church. Even at her most eccentric - the King James Version’s rendition of 1 Peter 2:9 as “ye are … a peculiar people” is painfully accurate, if quaint — she is still Christ’s body. “Love me, love my church” is what Jesus seems to say in the Bible. I would not have it any other way. Would you?

Reformation21 Blog

Thursday, September 17, 2009

From Piper's Twitter

If you have not chosen the kingdom of God, it will make in the end no difference what you have chosen instead. William Law

Monday, September 14, 2009

The Love of God

I continue to be amazed, humbled, and convicted by Jim Packer's book, Knowing God. Chapter 12 is a great explanation of God's love, a chapter he begins by telling us that his love "is one of the most tremendous utterances in the Bible - and also one of the most misunderstood."

Packer concludes the chapter with these provoking statements and questions: "John wrote that 'God is love' in order to make an ethical point, 'Since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another' (I John 4:11). Could an observer learn from the quality and degree of love that I show to others - my wife? my husband? my family? my neighbors? people at church? people at work? - anything at all about the greatness of God's love to me?"

J.I.Packer, Knowing God

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

True Wisdom

"True wisdom, James instructs us, is not determined by our intellectual ability (James 3:13-18). The wisdom of God is demonstrated by our godly behavior. If we are motivated by selfish ambition, and consumed by envy and jealousy, then we are not wise. If, on the other hand, we are full of humility, gentleness, love, mercy, and patience, then wisdom genuinely resides in our hearts" (Thomas Schreiner, SBTS Theological Journal, Fall, 2000).

Saturday, September 5, 2009

From Redeemer Presbyterian on Twitter

"Be killing sin, or sin will be killing you." - John Owen

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Piper on Expository Preaching

God’s Word, Good Exposition, Great Joy, Much Strength

Here’s another reason I am joyfully committed to expository exultation, that is, preaching.

Look at this amazing statement of what biblical exposition is like when it’s done well—in the power of God’s Spirit and riveted on biblical texts.

Ezra opened the book in the sight of all the people.... [T]he Levites helped the people to understand the Law.... They read from the book, from the Law of God, clearly, and they gave the sense, so that the people understood the reading.... And all the people went their way...to make great rejoicing, because they had understood the words that were declared to them. (Nehemiah 8:5-8,12)

First, there was a reader of the word of God. Then there were those who explained the words. Then there was true understanding in the minds of the people. Then there was great rejoicing “because they had understood the words.”

It is astonishing to me how many pastors apparently don’t believe in pursuing the joy of their people in this way. Evidently they think it doesn’t work. I’m sure there are many reasons for this abandonment of biblical exposition.

But I simply want to wave the flag and say: There was joy then. And there is joy today when God’s people see real, divine meaning in texts that they had not seen before.

If you want to see a strong church, keep in mind that it is no accident that in this very context the writer says, “The joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10).

What joy? The joy of verse 12: “All the people went their way...to make great rejoicing, because they had understood the words that were declared to them.”

God’s truth followed by faithful, Spirit-anointed exposition, leads to great joy, which is the strength of God’s people. So give the sense, brothers. Give the sense!

From desiringgod.org

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Lloyd-Jones: Focusing on What Really Matters

D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, commenting on Phil. 1:10 ("that you may approve what is excellent," or "that you may have a sense of what is vital"):

The difficulty in life is to know on what we ought to concentrate. The whole art of life, I sometimes think, is the art of knowing what to leave out, what to ignore, what to put on one side. How prone we are to dissipate our energies and to waste our time by forgetting what is vital and giving ourselves to second and third rate issues. Now, says Paul, here you are in the Christian life, you are concerned about difficulties, about oppositions and about the contradictions of life. What you need is just this: the power to concentrate on that which is vital, to leave out everything else, and to keep steadily to the one thing that matters.

The Life of Joy: Philippians, vol. 1, pp. 54-55.

From Between Two Worlds Blog