First: Taking over another sermon and preaching it as if it were yours is always and unequivocally wrong, and if you do it you should resign or be fired immediately. The wickedness is along at least three axes: (1) You are stealing. (2) You are deceiving the people to whom you are preaching. (3) Perhaps worst, you are not devoting yourself to the study of the Bible to the end that God’s truth captures you, molds you, makes you a man of God and equips you to speak for him. If preaching is God’s truth through human personality (so Phillips Brooks), then serving as nothing more than a kind of organic recording device in playback mode does not qualify. Incidentally, changing a few words here and there in someone else’s work does not let you off the hook; re-telling personal experiences as if they were yours when they were not makes the offense all the uglier. That this offense is easy to commit because of the availability of source material in the digital age does not lessen its wickedness, any more than the ready availability of porn in the digital age does not turn pornography into a virtue. (Occasionally preachers have preached a famous sermon from another preacher, carefully noting their source. That should be done, at most, only very occasionally, but there is no evil in it.)
Second: Taking over the structure, perhaps the outline in exact wording, and other significant chunks, while filling in the rest of the substance yourself, is not quite so grievous but still reprehensible. The temptation springs from the fact that writing a really good outline is often the most creative and challenging part of sermon preparation. Fair enough: if you “borrow” someone else’s outline, simply acknowledge it, and you have not sinned.
Third: In the course of diligent preparation, you are likely to come across clever snippets and ways of summarizing or formulating the truth of a passage that are creative and memorable. If you cite them, you should acknowledge that they are not yours, either with an “As so-and-so has said” or an “As someone has said.” This discipline keeps you honest and humble.
Fourth: If you read widely and have a good mind, that mind will inevitably become charged with good things whose source or origin you cannot recall. Often such sources can be tracked down fairly easily. On the other hand, do not become paranoid: a well-stocked mind is the result of decades of reading and learning, and ought to overflow easily and happily with gratitude toward God to the blessing of God’s people.
Johann Albrecht Bengel (1687-1752): “Apply yourself wholly to the text; apply the text wholly to yourself.”
http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tgc/2010/12/20/tgc-asks-don-carson-when-has-a-preacher-crossed-the-line-into-plagiarism-in-his-sermon/
Monday, December 20, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Tell Us Your Stories by Collin Hansen
Sometimes younger Christians give the impression that we have things figured out. We’re the future. We’ve found the old methods wanting, so we’ve developed new ones. We’re the generation that will strike the right balance where our forebears fell over to one side or the other. We’ve learned from your mistakes. And we don’t mind telling you.
Older believers recognize this youthful arrogance for what it is. You’ve been there, done that, grown out of it. You wait patiently for us to do likewise. But I want to encourage you not to let us younger believers off the hook so easily. Don’t berate us, for we excel at tuning out what we don’t want to hear. Don’t patronize us, as our pride will kick in and make us defensive. Still, there is one thing you can do: Tell us your stories.
Your stories give us the perspective we haven’t yet gained with experience. We don’t yet understand how much we don’t know. Our youthful bluster masks insecurity. We stand tall against withering attacks from our peers, but we’ve hardly been tested. We fear that when harder times come our faith will prove ephemeral. But your stories gird us against these doubts. So look underneath our confident exterior. You’ll find that younger Christians actually want to hear from older believers about how God demonstrated His faithfulness in their generation.
I’m worried, however, that these stories will be lost. Evangelicals suffer from self-inflicted amnesia. Our churches segregate age groups in order to foster relationships between peers. If you’re not deliberate about developing intergenerational friendships, they will not happen. Worse, our relentless effort to contextualize the gospel by chasing new cultural trends leads us to disparage the past. After all, what can the past teach us about spreading the gospel in the age of social media? Innovation is indeed necessary as we take the gospel into all the nations. And those committed to semper reformanda will always re-evaluate their practices by the standard of Scripture. But the line between innovation and fashion appears dangerously faint these days.
Exceptions give me hope that this unfortunate trend may be reversed. Lutheran theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, killed by the Nazi regime, continues to inspire young Christians to forsake cheap grace and follow the path of costly discipleship. The Ecuador martyrs’ courage has prodded many young believers to reach the unreached with the gospel. Their story gives remarkable power to Jim Elliot’s famous quote: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.” And I won’t soon forget sitting in Park Community Church on Chicago’s North Side in April 2009 as hundreds of trendy young evangelicals listened to D.A. Carson and John Piper for nearly four hours. Carson and Piper did little more than share their stories of God’s providence displayed over decades of faithful ministry.
There is consistently strong biblical warrant for encouraging one another by telling these stories of God’s grace. In his charge to Israel, Moses told God’s people: “Remember the days of old; consider the years of many generations; ask your father, and he will show you, your elders, and they will tell you” (Deut. 32:7). And oh, what a story the elders could tell of the God who heard the cries of His people, delivered them from Egypt, destroyed their pursuing enemies in the Red Sea, and sustained them in the wilderness. Yet Psalm 106 details the sad saga of how quickly and often the Israelites forgot what God had done. When still in Egypt, “they did not remember the abundance of your steadfast love” (Ps. 106:7). Even after the Red Sea miracle, “they soon forgot his works; they did not wait for his counsel” (v. 13). Then, when Moses ascended Mt. Sinai, they worshiped a golden calf. “They forgot their God, their Savior, who had done great things in Egypt” (v. 21).
We Christians live according to the new and better covenant ratified in the blood of Jesus Christ and sealed by the Holy Spirit. But we are similarly sinful. We need constant reminders that God is good no matter our circumstances. Scripture is the ultimate deposit of these faith-forming stories. So we mine the Scriptures, which were “written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31).
But our own testimonies to God’s persevering grace build up the body as well. I can attest to this effect while researching the history of revivals. As I read about the heaven-sent awakenings that broke out during president Timothy Dwight’s tenure at Yale University during the early 1800s, I was inspired to pray boldly that God would set college campuses aflame with revival today. I mourned over the darkness that has since enveloped North Korea but gave thanks for the Pyongyang revival that spread into China and eventually transformed South Korea.
Maybe God hasn’t used you to lead a revival. But he has revealed his sovereign goodness to you in countless ways both big and small. So tell us your stories. We’re listening.
www.ligonier.org/learn/articles/tell-us-your-stories/
Older believers recognize this youthful arrogance for what it is. You’ve been there, done that, grown out of it. You wait patiently for us to do likewise. But I want to encourage you not to let us younger believers off the hook so easily. Don’t berate us, for we excel at tuning out what we don’t want to hear. Don’t patronize us, as our pride will kick in and make us defensive. Still, there is one thing you can do: Tell us your stories.
Your stories give us the perspective we haven’t yet gained with experience. We don’t yet understand how much we don’t know. Our youthful bluster masks insecurity. We stand tall against withering attacks from our peers, but we’ve hardly been tested. We fear that when harder times come our faith will prove ephemeral. But your stories gird us against these doubts. So look underneath our confident exterior. You’ll find that younger Christians actually want to hear from older believers about how God demonstrated His faithfulness in their generation.
I’m worried, however, that these stories will be lost. Evangelicals suffer from self-inflicted amnesia. Our churches segregate age groups in order to foster relationships between peers. If you’re not deliberate about developing intergenerational friendships, they will not happen. Worse, our relentless effort to contextualize the gospel by chasing new cultural trends leads us to disparage the past. After all, what can the past teach us about spreading the gospel in the age of social media? Innovation is indeed necessary as we take the gospel into all the nations. And those committed to semper reformanda will always re-evaluate their practices by the standard of Scripture. But the line between innovation and fashion appears dangerously faint these days.
Exceptions give me hope that this unfortunate trend may be reversed. Lutheran theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, killed by the Nazi regime, continues to inspire young Christians to forsake cheap grace and follow the path of costly discipleship. The Ecuador martyrs’ courage has prodded many young believers to reach the unreached with the gospel. Their story gives remarkable power to Jim Elliot’s famous quote: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.” And I won’t soon forget sitting in Park Community Church on Chicago’s North Side in April 2009 as hundreds of trendy young evangelicals listened to D.A. Carson and John Piper for nearly four hours. Carson and Piper did little more than share their stories of God’s providence displayed over decades of faithful ministry.
There is consistently strong biblical warrant for encouraging one another by telling these stories of God’s grace. In his charge to Israel, Moses told God’s people: “Remember the days of old; consider the years of many generations; ask your father, and he will show you, your elders, and they will tell you” (Deut. 32:7). And oh, what a story the elders could tell of the God who heard the cries of His people, delivered them from Egypt, destroyed their pursuing enemies in the Red Sea, and sustained them in the wilderness. Yet Psalm 106 details the sad saga of how quickly and often the Israelites forgot what God had done. When still in Egypt, “they did not remember the abundance of your steadfast love” (Ps. 106:7). Even after the Red Sea miracle, “they soon forgot his works; they did not wait for his counsel” (v. 13). Then, when Moses ascended Mt. Sinai, they worshiped a golden calf. “They forgot their God, their Savior, who had done great things in Egypt” (v. 21).
We Christians live according to the new and better covenant ratified in the blood of Jesus Christ and sealed by the Holy Spirit. But we are similarly sinful. We need constant reminders that God is good no matter our circumstances. Scripture is the ultimate deposit of these faith-forming stories. So we mine the Scriptures, which were “written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31).
But our own testimonies to God’s persevering grace build up the body as well. I can attest to this effect while researching the history of revivals. As I read about the heaven-sent awakenings that broke out during president Timothy Dwight’s tenure at Yale University during the early 1800s, I was inspired to pray boldly that God would set college campuses aflame with revival today. I mourned over the darkness that has since enveloped North Korea but gave thanks for the Pyongyang revival that spread into China and eventually transformed South Korea.
Maybe God hasn’t used you to lead a revival. But he has revealed his sovereign goodness to you in countless ways both big and small. So tell us your stories. We’re listening.
www.ligonier.org/learn/articles/tell-us-your-stories/
Monday, December 13, 2010
Ten Reasons for Expository Preaching
Expository preaching
Fri, 2010-12-03 06:30 — Adrian Reynolds
I've not long finished reading a book for a review in Evangelicals Now. The book is called The Shepherd Leader by Timothy Z Witmer. You'll have to wait for EN to read the review, but one of the book's strengths is a top-ten list of why preachers should preach expository sermons. You can argue that one or two of the points are the same, but here it is anyway:
1. Expository preaching identifies exactly what is at the heart of the Christian message
2. Expository preaching requires that the shepherd concern himself with the intent of the Divine Author for every text.
3. Expository preaching respects the integrity of the textual units given through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit
4. Expository preaching keeps the pastor from riding his favourite hobby horses.
5. Expository preaching requires the preacher to preach the difficult or obscure texts and challenging truths of the Bible.
6. Expository preaching will encourage both pastor and students alike to become students of the Bible.
7. Expository preaching gives us boldness in preaching for we are not expounding our own fallible views but the Word of God.
8. Expository preaching gives confidence to the listener that what he is hearing is not the opinion of man but the Word of God.
9. Expository preaching is of great assistance in sermon planning.
10. Expository preaching provides the context for a long tenure in a particular place.
Enough said?
http://www.proctrust.org.uk/blog/2010-12-03/expository-preaching-948
Fri, 2010-12-03 06:30 — Adrian Reynolds
I've not long finished reading a book for a review in Evangelicals Now. The book is called The Shepherd Leader by Timothy Z Witmer. You'll have to wait for EN to read the review, but one of the book's strengths is a top-ten list of why preachers should preach expository sermons. You can argue that one or two of the points are the same, but here it is anyway:
1. Expository preaching identifies exactly what is at the heart of the Christian message
2. Expository preaching requires that the shepherd concern himself with the intent of the Divine Author for every text.
3. Expository preaching respects the integrity of the textual units given through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit
4. Expository preaching keeps the pastor from riding his favourite hobby horses.
5. Expository preaching requires the preacher to preach the difficult or obscure texts and challenging truths of the Bible.
6. Expository preaching will encourage both pastor and students alike to become students of the Bible.
7. Expository preaching gives us boldness in preaching for we are not expounding our own fallible views but the Word of God.
8. Expository preaching gives confidence to the listener that what he is hearing is not the opinion of man but the Word of God.
9. Expository preaching is of great assistance in sermon planning.
10. Expository preaching provides the context for a long tenure in a particular place.
Enough said?
http://www.proctrust.org.uk/blog/2010-12-03/expository-preaching-948
Monday, October 11, 2010
TRANSFORMATION by Nancy Leigh DeMoss
Recently I ran into a woman I had not seen for several weeks. I hardly recognized her. Her hair, normally blonde, had turned completely white. The transformation was dramatic. All it took was forty minutes and some bleach.
If only spiritual transformation were that easy. Just read a book, see a counselor, attend a conference, make a fresh commitment, shed a few tears at an altar, memorize a few verses … and, presto, out comes a mature, godly Christian.
To the contrary, the experience of many believers looks like this.
Commit. Fail. Confess.
Re-commit. Fail again. Confess again.
Re-re-commit. Fail again. Give up.
After all the struggle and effort, we tend to want a “quick fix”—a once-for-all victory—so we won’t have to keep wrestling with the same old issues.
In my own walk with God, I have discovered some helpful principles about how spiritual change takes place.
1. Deep, lasting spiritual change rarely happens overnight. It is a process that involves training, testing, and time. There are no shortcuts.
We hear of people being dramatically delivered from drug or alcohol addiction, and we may wonder, “Why doesn’t God do that for me? Why do I have to struggle with this food addiction, with lust, worry, and anger?”
Before the children of Israel could possess the Promised Land, they had to drive out the pagan nations that occupied Canaan. Ultimate victory was assured if they would “trust and obey,” but it would take time. “I will not drive them out in a single year,” God said. “Little by little, I will drive them out before you” (Exodus 23:29-30).
God is committed to winning the hearts and developing the character of His people. That requires a process.
2. Spiritual change requires desire. We must ask ourselves: Do I really want to change, or am I content to remain as I am? How important is it to me to be like Jesus? What price am I willing to pay to be godly?
Godly desires are nurtured by prayer and by meditation on Christ, who is the object of our desire. As I read the Scripture and gaze on the Lord Jesus, I find my heart longing to be like Him—humble, holy, compassionate, surrendered to the will of God, and sensitive to the promptings of the Spirit.
When our desire to be holy is greater than our willingness to stay where we are, we have taken a big step toward spiritual transformation.
3. Spiritual change flows out of an intimate relationship with Jesus. The more we love Him, the greater will be our motivation to obey Him and to make the choices that please Him.
The ultimate issue in life is who or what we worship. The process of true change takes place as we are weaned from our love and worship of self, pleasure, and this world, and our hearts become wholly devoted to Christ.
4. Spiritual change requires discipline. I can remember sitting in tiny, windowless practice rooms for hours on end as a college student, playing the same piece of music over and over again. I knew I would never reach my goal—to make beautiful music—without that rigorous discipline.
Discipline for the purpose of godliness is not the same as self-effort. Rather, it means consciously cooperating with the Holy Spirit—yielding to Him so He can conform us to the image of Christ.
The problem is, we want the outcome without the process. We want victory without the warfare.
It is futile to pray and hope for spiritual change, while sitting glued to a television set or neglecting the means God has provided for our growth in grace. Bible study, meditation, worship, prayer, fasting, accountability, and obedience are disciplines that produce a harvest of righteousness in our lives.
Spiritual change is brought about by the Holy Spirit, as we exercise faith and obedience. There were occasions when God promised to drive out Israel’s enemies for them. But sometimes He said, “You must drive out the enemy.” Sometimes God said, “I will fight for you.” At other times, He said, “You must fight.”
So which is it? Does God do the fighting, while we “rest in Him,” or do we have to fight against the enemies of our souls? According to Scripture, the answer is, Yes. “Work out your salvation … for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose” (Philippians 2:12-13).
True spiritual change is initiated and enabled by the indwelling Spirit of God; it is all of grace, which we receive as we persevere in humility, obedience, and faith.
5. Spiritual change is possible (and assured) because of the new life we received when we were born again. According to God’s Word, at the point of regeneration, we became “a new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17). For the believer, holy living is not a matter of trying harder, but of walking in the reality of a supernatural change that has already taken place.
Sanctification is the process by which the change God has wrought within us is worked out in our daily experience, as “we are being transformed into [Christ’s] likeness” (2 Corinthians 3:18). It is a life-long—and sometimes painful—process. But we have the confidence that one day the transformation will be complete and “we will be like him, for we shall see him as he is” (1 John 3:2).
www.challies.com/guest-bloggers/transformed
If only spiritual transformation were that easy. Just read a book, see a counselor, attend a conference, make a fresh commitment, shed a few tears at an altar, memorize a few verses … and, presto, out comes a mature, godly Christian.
To the contrary, the experience of many believers looks like this.
Commit. Fail. Confess.
Re-commit. Fail again. Confess again.
Re-re-commit. Fail again. Give up.
After all the struggle and effort, we tend to want a “quick fix”—a once-for-all victory—so we won’t have to keep wrestling with the same old issues.
In my own walk with God, I have discovered some helpful principles about how spiritual change takes place.
1. Deep, lasting spiritual change rarely happens overnight. It is a process that involves training, testing, and time. There are no shortcuts.
We hear of people being dramatically delivered from drug or alcohol addiction, and we may wonder, “Why doesn’t God do that for me? Why do I have to struggle with this food addiction, with lust, worry, and anger?”
Before the children of Israel could possess the Promised Land, they had to drive out the pagan nations that occupied Canaan. Ultimate victory was assured if they would “trust and obey,” but it would take time. “I will not drive them out in a single year,” God said. “Little by little, I will drive them out before you” (Exodus 23:29-30).
God is committed to winning the hearts and developing the character of His people. That requires a process.
2. Spiritual change requires desire. We must ask ourselves: Do I really want to change, or am I content to remain as I am? How important is it to me to be like Jesus? What price am I willing to pay to be godly?
Godly desires are nurtured by prayer and by meditation on Christ, who is the object of our desire. As I read the Scripture and gaze on the Lord Jesus, I find my heart longing to be like Him—humble, holy, compassionate, surrendered to the will of God, and sensitive to the promptings of the Spirit.
When our desire to be holy is greater than our willingness to stay where we are, we have taken a big step toward spiritual transformation.
3. Spiritual change flows out of an intimate relationship with Jesus. The more we love Him, the greater will be our motivation to obey Him and to make the choices that please Him.
The ultimate issue in life is who or what we worship. The process of true change takes place as we are weaned from our love and worship of self, pleasure, and this world, and our hearts become wholly devoted to Christ.
4. Spiritual change requires discipline. I can remember sitting in tiny, windowless practice rooms for hours on end as a college student, playing the same piece of music over and over again. I knew I would never reach my goal—to make beautiful music—without that rigorous discipline.
Discipline for the purpose of godliness is not the same as self-effort. Rather, it means consciously cooperating with the Holy Spirit—yielding to Him so He can conform us to the image of Christ.
The problem is, we want the outcome without the process. We want victory without the warfare.
It is futile to pray and hope for spiritual change, while sitting glued to a television set or neglecting the means God has provided for our growth in grace. Bible study, meditation, worship, prayer, fasting, accountability, and obedience are disciplines that produce a harvest of righteousness in our lives.
Spiritual change is brought about by the Holy Spirit, as we exercise faith and obedience. There were occasions when God promised to drive out Israel’s enemies for them. But sometimes He said, “You must drive out the enemy.” Sometimes God said, “I will fight for you.” At other times, He said, “You must fight.”
So which is it? Does God do the fighting, while we “rest in Him,” or do we have to fight against the enemies of our souls? According to Scripture, the answer is, Yes. “Work out your salvation … for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose” (Philippians 2:12-13).
True spiritual change is initiated and enabled by the indwelling Spirit of God; it is all of grace, which we receive as we persevere in humility, obedience, and faith.
5. Spiritual change is possible (and assured) because of the new life we received when we were born again. According to God’s Word, at the point of regeneration, we became “a new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17). For the believer, holy living is not a matter of trying harder, but of walking in the reality of a supernatural change that has already taken place.
Sanctification is the process by which the change God has wrought within us is worked out in our daily experience, as “we are being transformed into [Christ’s] likeness” (2 Corinthians 3:18). It is a life-long—and sometimes painful—process. But we have the confidence that one day the transformation will be complete and “we will be like him, for we shall see him as he is” (1 John 3:2).
www.challies.com/guest-bloggers/transformed
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Tom Nettles on the Importance of Building Life-giving Doctrine into the Ethos of Your Congregation
The conviction that doctrine is a transformative power must be present from the beginning. It cannot be a subsequent development. If piety and doctrine are developed separately, it becomes extremely difficult to put them back together from a pastoral standpoint. The effort will seem artificial, contrived, and as optional for the Christian life. The “practical” will always seem more manageable for the supposedly ordinary Christian, while doctrinal issues and discussion will be seen as the province of a few heady folks. The fostering of this perception is fatal to the health of the body and to the robust faith of each individual Christian. Pastoral counseling suffers in difficult situations from shallow doctrinal development. A worshiping body, convinced to the person of the divine insistence on his own glory as a right, good, and glorious thing, and the consequent joyful approval of divine sovereignty in creation, providence, and redemption can be a strong and mighty outpost of kingdom labor and worship. “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” will receive the sound and hearty “Amen” in the souls of the saints. Whining and perplexity over the difficulties of life will be minimized, courageous consistency in the face of sorrow and tragedy will grow as a witness that confounds the expectations of the world, and oneness develops in the entire congregation in genuine sympathy for each other as they experience together the multi-faceted grace of God. They will not think it strange at any fiery trial that comes to them but will consent that “this is the will of God concerning you.” Pastoral counseling builds naturally off the instruction, admonitions, exhortations of a proclamation ministry. A clear and forceful integration of the biblical doctrines of the Trinitarian existence of God, the intrinsic glory of the Godhead, Christ’s infinite condescension, humanity’s fall and consequent just condemnation and punitive corruption, divine sovereignty in election, reconciliation and redemption, calling, resurrection, and eternal occupation—all of these and others constitute the pastoral task from the very beginning of establishing a worshiping congregation.
www.joethorn.net/2010/07/05/theology-nettles/
www.joethorn.net/2010/07/05/theology-nettles/
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
The Glory of Plodding by Kevin DeYoung
It’s sexy among young people — my generation — to talk about ditching institutional religion and starting a revolution of real Christ-followers living in real community without the confines of church. Besides being unbiblical, such notions of churchless Christianity are unrealistic. It’s immaturity actually, like the newly engaged couple who think romance preserves the marriage, when the couple celebrating their golden anniversary know it’s the institution of marriage that preserves the romance. Without the God-given habit of corporate worship and the God-given mandate of corporate accountability, we will not prove faithful over the long haul.
What we need are fewer revolutionaries and a few more plodding visionaries. That’s my dream for the church — a multitude of faithful, risktaking plodders. The best churches are full of gospel-saturated people holding tenaciously to a vision of godly obedience and God’s glory, and pursuing that godliness and glory with relentless, often unnoticed, plodding consistency.
My generation in particular is prone to radicalism without followthrough. We have dreams of changing the world, and the world should take notice accordingly. But we’ve not proved faithful in much of anything yet. We haven’t held a steady job or raised godly kids or done our time in VBS or, in some cases, even moved off the parental dole. We want global change and expect a few more dollars to the ONE campaign or Habitat for Humanity chapter to just about wrap things up. What the church and the world needs, we imagine, is for us to be another Bono — Christian, but more spiritual than religious and more into social justice than the church. As great as it is that Bono is using his fame for some noble purpose, I just don’t believe that the happy future of the church, or the world for that matter, rests on our ability to raise up a million more Bonos (as at least one author suggests). With all due respect, what’s harder: to be an idolized rock star who travels around the world touting good causes and chiding governments for their lack of foreign aid, or to be a line worker at GM with four kids and a mortgage, who tithes to his church, sings in the choir every week, serves on the school board, and supports a Christian relief agency and a few missionaries from his disposable income?
Until we are content with being one of the million nameless, faceless church members and not the next globe-trotting rock star, we aren’t ready to be a part of the church. In the grand scheme of things, most of us are going to be more of an Ampliatus (Rom. 16:8) or Phlegon (v. 14) than an apostle Paul. And maybe that’s why so many Christians are getting tired of the church. We haven’t learned how to be part of the crowd. We haven’t learned to be ordinary. Our jobs are often mundane. Our devotional times often seem like a waste. Church services are often forgettable. That’s life. We drive to the same places, go through the same routines with the kids, buy the same groceries at the store, and share a bed with the same person every night. Church is often the same too — same doctrines, same basic order of worship, same preacher, same people. But in all the smallness and sameness, God works — like the smallest seed in the garden growing to unbelievable heights, like beloved Tychicus, that faithful minister, delivering the mail and apostolic greetings (Eph. 6:21). Life is usually pretty ordinary, just like following Jesus most days. Daily discipleship is not a new revolution each morning or an agent of global transformation every evening; it’s a long obedience in the same direction.
It’s possible the church needs to change. Certainly in some areas it does. But it’s also possible we’ve changed — and not for the better. It’s possible we no longer find joy in so great a salvation. It’s possible that our boredom has less to do with the church, its doctrines, or its poor leadership and more to do with our unwillingness to tolerate imperfection in others and our own coldness to the same old message about Christ’s death and resurrection. It’s possible we talk a lot about authentic community but we aren’t willing to live in it.
The church is not an incidental part of God’s plan. Jesus didn’t invite people to join an anti-religion, anti-doctrine, anti-institutional bandwagon of love, harmony, and re-integration. He showed people how to live, to be sure. But He also called them to repent, called them to faith, called them out of the world, and called them into the church. The Lord “didn’t add them to the church without saving them, and he didn’t save them without adding them to the church” (John Stott).
“Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Cor. 13:7). If we truly love the church, we will bear with her in her failings, endure her struggles, believe her to be the beloved bride of Christ, and hope for her final glorification. The church is the hope of the world — not because she gets it all right, but because she is a body with Christ for her Head.
Don’t give up on the church. The New Testament knows nothing of churchless Christianity. The invisible church is for invisible Christians. The visible church is for you and me. Put away the Che Guevara t-shirts, stop the revolution, and join the rest of the plodders. Fifty years from now you’ll be glad you did.
www.ligonier.org/learn/articles/glory-plodding/
What we need are fewer revolutionaries and a few more plodding visionaries. That’s my dream for the church — a multitude of faithful, risktaking plodders. The best churches are full of gospel-saturated people holding tenaciously to a vision of godly obedience and God’s glory, and pursuing that godliness and glory with relentless, often unnoticed, plodding consistency.
My generation in particular is prone to radicalism without followthrough. We have dreams of changing the world, and the world should take notice accordingly. But we’ve not proved faithful in much of anything yet. We haven’t held a steady job or raised godly kids or done our time in VBS or, in some cases, even moved off the parental dole. We want global change and expect a few more dollars to the ONE campaign or Habitat for Humanity chapter to just about wrap things up. What the church and the world needs, we imagine, is for us to be another Bono — Christian, but more spiritual than religious and more into social justice than the church. As great as it is that Bono is using his fame for some noble purpose, I just don’t believe that the happy future of the church, or the world for that matter, rests on our ability to raise up a million more Bonos (as at least one author suggests). With all due respect, what’s harder: to be an idolized rock star who travels around the world touting good causes and chiding governments for their lack of foreign aid, or to be a line worker at GM with four kids and a mortgage, who tithes to his church, sings in the choir every week, serves on the school board, and supports a Christian relief agency and a few missionaries from his disposable income?
Until we are content with being one of the million nameless, faceless church members and not the next globe-trotting rock star, we aren’t ready to be a part of the church. In the grand scheme of things, most of us are going to be more of an Ampliatus (Rom. 16:8) or Phlegon (v. 14) than an apostle Paul. And maybe that’s why so many Christians are getting tired of the church. We haven’t learned how to be part of the crowd. We haven’t learned to be ordinary. Our jobs are often mundane. Our devotional times often seem like a waste. Church services are often forgettable. That’s life. We drive to the same places, go through the same routines with the kids, buy the same groceries at the store, and share a bed with the same person every night. Church is often the same too — same doctrines, same basic order of worship, same preacher, same people. But in all the smallness and sameness, God works — like the smallest seed in the garden growing to unbelievable heights, like beloved Tychicus, that faithful minister, delivering the mail and apostolic greetings (Eph. 6:21). Life is usually pretty ordinary, just like following Jesus most days. Daily discipleship is not a new revolution each morning or an agent of global transformation every evening; it’s a long obedience in the same direction.
It’s possible the church needs to change. Certainly in some areas it does. But it’s also possible we’ve changed — and not for the better. It’s possible we no longer find joy in so great a salvation. It’s possible that our boredom has less to do with the church, its doctrines, or its poor leadership and more to do with our unwillingness to tolerate imperfection in others and our own coldness to the same old message about Christ’s death and resurrection. It’s possible we talk a lot about authentic community but we aren’t willing to live in it.
The church is not an incidental part of God’s plan. Jesus didn’t invite people to join an anti-religion, anti-doctrine, anti-institutional bandwagon of love, harmony, and re-integration. He showed people how to live, to be sure. But He also called them to repent, called them to faith, called them out of the world, and called them into the church. The Lord “didn’t add them to the church without saving them, and he didn’t save them without adding them to the church” (John Stott).
“Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Cor. 13:7). If we truly love the church, we will bear with her in her failings, endure her struggles, believe her to be the beloved bride of Christ, and hope for her final glorification. The church is the hope of the world — not because she gets it all right, but because she is a body with Christ for her Head.
Don’t give up on the church. The New Testament knows nothing of churchless Christianity. The invisible church is for invisible Christians. The visible church is for you and me. Put away the Che Guevara t-shirts, stop the revolution, and join the rest of the plodders. Fifty years from now you’ll be glad you did.
www.ligonier.org/learn/articles/glory-plodding/
Thursday, June 10, 2010
The Ten Commandments of Preaching - Josh Moody
I recently did a seminar on preaching for the European Leadership Forum in Hungary--http://euroleadership.org/. I used the pneumonic ‘E-X-P-O-S-I-T-O-R-Y’ for the ten commandments of preaching. These are some of the notes from which I spoke.
E—Evangelistic. Gospel preaching must have an evangelist edge. You might not have an altar call but you’ve got to call people to the altar.
X—Excellence. It’s hard work. You need sweat to make it sweet.
P—Proclamation. Certainly, all preaching is dialogic in mood though monologic formally. But there is an essential authority to the preaching of God’s Word. God’s Word need be preached winsomely but must not be preached wimpishly.
O—Organization. Structure and lack of it is the hidden failing of many an otherwise good sermon.
S—Scripture. Preaching is to bleed the Bible. If as JI Packer says the Bible is God preaching then preaching is re-preaching the Bible. All Scripture is God breathed and is useful for: not just the authority of Scripture but the sufficiency of Scripture is the mandate of the preacher (2 Tim. 3:16 etc.)
I—Inspiration. I mean here the inspiration in the sense of anointing, and in the sense of the work of the Holy Spirit. Great preaching has the sense that the Holy Spirit is at work, that God the Holy Spirit is speaking (“The sword of the Spirit is the Word of God”), and that the preacher – mysteriously – is talking about me with a word from God.
T—Teaching. The British preacher Dick Lucas makes the point that the difference between the seed that fell on the good soil and produced many times what was sown and the other soils was that the good soil “understood” the Word. Clarity, teaching, instruction. Preaching is not just a vision moment; it is instruction. Clarity. Crystal clarity. Preach not to be understood but so that you cannot be misunderstood.
O—Oratory. There is a false fake rhetoric, and there is a sublime biblical rhetoric, what the Puritans used to call “Plain Preaching.” Not boring preaching, but plain as in ‘straightforward.’ Paul describes the same thing at the beginning of 1 Corinthians 2 and 2 Corinthians 4.
R—Relational. Preaching as a pastor, and to some extent all preaching, has a relational subtext. Preaching is to be an expression of love (“Christ loves compels us”) not an expression of control. The counseling room informs the pulpit, and vice versa.
Y—You. Having written a book called ‘The God-Centered Life’ this might be a surprising point to finish on. But preaching if it is not merely truth mediated through personality, in the famous Haddon Robinson phrase, is at least a personal encounter. It is “live.” Lloyd-Jones used to say that his ambition was to be himself, or words to that effect. Don’t copy someone else; strive to be you in the pulpit, in the sanctified, Holy Spirit filled, godly sense of ‘you.’
drjoshmoody.com
E—Evangelistic. Gospel preaching must have an evangelist edge. You might not have an altar call but you’ve got to call people to the altar.
X—Excellence. It’s hard work. You need sweat to make it sweet.
P—Proclamation. Certainly, all preaching is dialogic in mood though monologic formally. But there is an essential authority to the preaching of God’s Word. God’s Word need be preached winsomely but must not be preached wimpishly.
O—Organization. Structure and lack of it is the hidden failing of many an otherwise good sermon.
S—Scripture. Preaching is to bleed the Bible. If as JI Packer says the Bible is God preaching then preaching is re-preaching the Bible. All Scripture is God breathed and is useful for: not just the authority of Scripture but the sufficiency of Scripture is the mandate of the preacher (2 Tim. 3:16 etc.)
I—Inspiration. I mean here the inspiration in the sense of anointing, and in the sense of the work of the Holy Spirit. Great preaching has the sense that the Holy Spirit is at work, that God the Holy Spirit is speaking (“The sword of the Spirit is the Word of God”), and that the preacher – mysteriously – is talking about me with a word from God.
T—Teaching. The British preacher Dick Lucas makes the point that the difference between the seed that fell on the good soil and produced many times what was sown and the other soils was that the good soil “understood” the Word. Clarity, teaching, instruction. Preaching is not just a vision moment; it is instruction. Clarity. Crystal clarity. Preach not to be understood but so that you cannot be misunderstood.
O—Oratory. There is a false fake rhetoric, and there is a sublime biblical rhetoric, what the Puritans used to call “Plain Preaching.” Not boring preaching, but plain as in ‘straightforward.’ Paul describes the same thing at the beginning of 1 Corinthians 2 and 2 Corinthians 4.
R—Relational. Preaching as a pastor, and to some extent all preaching, has a relational subtext. Preaching is to be an expression of love (“Christ loves compels us”) not an expression of control. The counseling room informs the pulpit, and vice versa.
Y—You. Having written a book called ‘The God-Centered Life’ this might be a surprising point to finish on. But preaching if it is not merely truth mediated through personality, in the famous Haddon Robinson phrase, is at least a personal encounter. It is “live.” Lloyd-Jones used to say that his ambition was to be himself, or words to that effect. Don’t copy someone else; strive to be you in the pulpit, in the sanctified, Holy Spirit filled, godly sense of ‘you.’
drjoshmoody.com
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
R.C. Sproul's Prayer for the Nation
Our Father and our God, indeed You are our God, and Your sovereignty extends over all things. That as God, Your relevance and Your dominion can never be restricted merely to the realm of the spiritual or the religious, but that your sovereignty extends over all creation, over every aspect of our life and of our culture, over our government, over our church, over our schools, over our health, over our wealth, over our thinking, our planning, and our crying. And so we, as your people, are pleading with you to have mercy upon us, to give us leaders who have a regard for You, who will regard Your name as holy, and who will understand that in whatever office they hold, they are to be your servants, for you have ordained them. And we ask that you would bring new life to your church and that we may begin our repentance at our own house and in our own churches as we plead with you to have mercy upon us as a nation, as a people, as a culture that the light of Christ may be rekindled with great glory and intense brightness in our land, and that there would be a revival of a knowledge of Thee without which our land will mourn and our people will perish. And we ask these things in the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
A Harvard Lesson in Humility
If you’ve not heard of William Stuntz before, I encourage you to get to know him. Stuntz, 52, is an accomplished, highly regarded professor at Harvard Law School. He is also a Christian (he attends Park Street Church) who speaks very honestly and winsomely about his Christian faith.
And one other thing about Stuntz: he is dying from cancer.
His reflections on death are poignant, thoughtful, and hope-filled (here’s one interview at Patheos; here’s an abbreviated version at WSJ; and here’s his testimony given at Park Street).
There’s a lot that can be said about Stuntz, but I was struck by “one of his famous phrases” as reported in a recent article about him. The phrase is this: “I hadn’t though of that.” One of Stuntz’s former students reflects on the power of these simple words: “Think of how much he accomplishes with that one phrase in the classroom…Somehow, his students managed to come out of of every conversation with him feeling like we were tenured Harvard professors, or could be, someday.”
I can’t recall when I’ve come across a more practical and challenging account of humility. Here’s a celebrated Harvard professor unafraid to admit to his young, inexperienced, less knowledgeable students that they could think of ideas he hadn’t thought of before. Count me convicted. How easily I can allow my congregation or my elders or my pastoral interns or my wife or my kids to keep on assuming that my knowledge of the Bible, of theology, of the Christian life in general is beyond tracing out.
Of course, they don’t really assume that. But any pastor or leader knows what I’m talking about. When you have a position of prestige or gifts of intellect, people make a habit of defaulting to your area of learning. And how comfortable we are to play the expert.
But if we’re honest (and why wouldn’t we be except for pride?), we don’t know it all. We aren’t models of everything. Even our youngest pupils will see things we haven’t seen before. So why not admit it?
What beautiful humility to utter that simple phrase: “I hadn’t thought of that.” It encourages others, may even inspire others, while also demonstrating a proper sense of our own finitude.
I’m grateful for William Stuntz, for his Christian faith, his vocation, and today, for his example of humility. I have much to learn and am glad to learn from others farther ahead in the race. I want to say “I hadn’t thought of that” more often, because, well, there are billions of things I’ve never thought of before. No sense in hiding the obvious. There’s only one Know-It-All in the universe, and he will not share his glory with another.
Kevin DeYoung
thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/kevindeyoung/
And one other thing about Stuntz: he is dying from cancer.
His reflections on death are poignant, thoughtful, and hope-filled (here’s one interview at Patheos; here’s an abbreviated version at WSJ; and here’s his testimony given at Park Street).
There’s a lot that can be said about Stuntz, but I was struck by “one of his famous phrases” as reported in a recent article about him. The phrase is this: “I hadn’t though of that.” One of Stuntz’s former students reflects on the power of these simple words: “Think of how much he accomplishes with that one phrase in the classroom…Somehow, his students managed to come out of of every conversation with him feeling like we were tenured Harvard professors, or could be, someday.”
I can’t recall when I’ve come across a more practical and challenging account of humility. Here’s a celebrated Harvard professor unafraid to admit to his young, inexperienced, less knowledgeable students that they could think of ideas he hadn’t thought of before. Count me convicted. How easily I can allow my congregation or my elders or my pastoral interns or my wife or my kids to keep on assuming that my knowledge of the Bible, of theology, of the Christian life in general is beyond tracing out.
Of course, they don’t really assume that. But any pastor or leader knows what I’m talking about. When you have a position of prestige or gifts of intellect, people make a habit of defaulting to your area of learning. And how comfortable we are to play the expert.
But if we’re honest (and why wouldn’t we be except for pride?), we don’t know it all. We aren’t models of everything. Even our youngest pupils will see things we haven’t seen before. So why not admit it?
What beautiful humility to utter that simple phrase: “I hadn’t thought of that.” It encourages others, may even inspire others, while also demonstrating a proper sense of our own finitude.
I’m grateful for William Stuntz, for his Christian faith, his vocation, and today, for his example of humility. I have much to learn and am glad to learn from others farther ahead in the race. I want to say “I hadn’t thought of that” more often, because, well, there are billions of things I’ve never thought of before. No sense in hiding the obvious. There’s only one Know-It-All in the universe, and he will not share his glory with another.
Kevin DeYoung
thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/kevindeyoung/
An Interview with Eric Metaxas on Bonhoeffer
Below are three questions I recently asked Eric Metaxas, author of the new major biography on Bonhoeffer, the Lutheran pastor-theologian in Germany who was hanged for conspiring to kill Hitler. Bonhoeffer’s popular works like Life Together and The Cost of Discipleship continue to be widely read, but few know the full story of his courageous, fascinating life. Metaxas tells the story and tells it well.
What drew you to write on Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and what effect did this research have on your own life?
There seems to me to be absolutely no one like Bonhoeffer. He seems extremely modern somehow. Greg Thornbury at Union University has called him a “Church Father for the Post-Modern Era.” Somehow that captures it for me. I think of him as a hero in the faith we desperately need to hear about right now, at this time in history. He shows us how to be Christians, with courage, in a unique way.
But this story is very personal for me, too. My mother grew up in Germany, and she lost her father at age nine during the war. I see Bonhoeffer as a voice for those who couldn’t speak out. First for the Jews, of course, but also for the Germans like my grandfather, who knew that Hitler was evil. My research into Bonhoeffer somehow connected me to my own family history and to German history in a way that has changed me forever. This is my history and my family’s history.
Do you think Bonhoeffer was justified in conspiring to kill Hitler?
In a word: yes. Bonhoeffer knew what was going on with the Jews. His family was well-connected, and he knew the worst stories of what was happening. He saw it as the plain duty of a Christian to protect the weak and the innocent. To sit back while this was going on, while he knew it was going on, was simply unthinkable. It would have been nothing less than cowardice. He felt that God Himself was calling him to act boldly, in faith. To step out and act. It was what his faith and his theology led him to do. That’s very important to understand, and if I’ve finally clarified that somewhat in my book I think I’ve done something very valuable.
Bonhoeffer once famously advocated “religionless Christianity.” What did he mean by that?
What he meant by that is completely and shockingly different from what people have said he meant! This is another reason I’m so excited about people reading my book. For decades this has been misunderstood, and it’s muddied his legacy. What Bonhoeffer meant was that the German church had failed. Hitler’s rise and the horrors that attended that rise—especially in the Holocaust—were proof of that. Bonhoeffer was saying that the Church must really be the Church, must be a bold and uncompromising witness to Jesus. But what they had mainly been up to that point was merely “religious” in the negative sense. The difference between the dead religion of the German churches and the “religionless Christianity” of real faith in Jesus Christ is the difference between fig leaves (“dead religion”) and the Blood of Jesus Christ. One was a sham that did nothing. It certainly didn’t fool God. The other was the only thing that could stand against evil. “Religionless Christianity” was true faith and obedience to the Lordship of Jesus Christ in every sphere—not just some circumscribed “religious” sphere, but in every sphere of life. People have gotten this so wrong it’s staggering. I hope that will change once and for all when they read my book.
You’ve written a major biography on Wilberforce, and now one on Bonhoeffer. Who’s next for you?
Merv Griffin. Just kidding! I have so much else I want to do, but writing another biography is not one of them. This book took so much out of me I simply cannot think about doing another one. But I know the Lord will use it to His glory for His purposes. And He’ll show me what to do next.
From Justin Taylor, thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/justintaylor/2010/04/26
What drew you to write on Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and what effect did this research have on your own life?
There seems to me to be absolutely no one like Bonhoeffer. He seems extremely modern somehow. Greg Thornbury at Union University has called him a “Church Father for the Post-Modern Era.” Somehow that captures it for me. I think of him as a hero in the faith we desperately need to hear about right now, at this time in history. He shows us how to be Christians, with courage, in a unique way.
But this story is very personal for me, too. My mother grew up in Germany, and she lost her father at age nine during the war. I see Bonhoeffer as a voice for those who couldn’t speak out. First for the Jews, of course, but also for the Germans like my grandfather, who knew that Hitler was evil. My research into Bonhoeffer somehow connected me to my own family history and to German history in a way that has changed me forever. This is my history and my family’s history.
Do you think Bonhoeffer was justified in conspiring to kill Hitler?
In a word: yes. Bonhoeffer knew what was going on with the Jews. His family was well-connected, and he knew the worst stories of what was happening. He saw it as the plain duty of a Christian to protect the weak and the innocent. To sit back while this was going on, while he knew it was going on, was simply unthinkable. It would have been nothing less than cowardice. He felt that God Himself was calling him to act boldly, in faith. To step out and act. It was what his faith and his theology led him to do. That’s very important to understand, and if I’ve finally clarified that somewhat in my book I think I’ve done something very valuable.
Bonhoeffer once famously advocated “religionless Christianity.” What did he mean by that?
What he meant by that is completely and shockingly different from what people have said he meant! This is another reason I’m so excited about people reading my book. For decades this has been misunderstood, and it’s muddied his legacy. What Bonhoeffer meant was that the German church had failed. Hitler’s rise and the horrors that attended that rise—especially in the Holocaust—were proof of that. Bonhoeffer was saying that the Church must really be the Church, must be a bold and uncompromising witness to Jesus. But what they had mainly been up to that point was merely “religious” in the negative sense. The difference between the dead religion of the German churches and the “religionless Christianity” of real faith in Jesus Christ is the difference between fig leaves (“dead religion”) and the Blood of Jesus Christ. One was a sham that did nothing. It certainly didn’t fool God. The other was the only thing that could stand against evil. “Religionless Christianity” was true faith and obedience to the Lordship of Jesus Christ in every sphere—not just some circumscribed “religious” sphere, but in every sphere of life. People have gotten this so wrong it’s staggering. I hope that will change once and for all when they read my book.
You’ve written a major biography on Wilberforce, and now one on Bonhoeffer. Who’s next for you?
Merv Griffin. Just kidding! I have so much else I want to do, but writing another biography is not one of them. This book took so much out of me I simply cannot think about doing another one. But I know the Lord will use it to His glory for His purposes. And He’ll show me what to do next.
From Justin Taylor, thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/justintaylor/2010/04/26
Monday, April 19, 2010
The Blessings of Consecutive Expository Preaching by John Starke
Christopher Ash’s new The Priority of Preaching (Christian Focus) is a short and punchy book on the significance of the Word preached every Sunday. One of the highlights of this excellent book is the Appendix “Give God the Microphone.” Ash gives seven blessings of consecutive expository preaching. They are insightful and should encourage us to rely on the wisdom of God Sunday after Sunday. Here is the list:
1. Consecutive expository preaching safeguards God’s agenda against being hijacked by ours.
2. Consecutive expository preaching makes it harder for us to abuse the Bible by reading it out of context.
3. Consecutive expository preaching dilutes the selectivity of the preacher.
4. Consecutive expository preaching keeps the content of the sermon fresh and surprising.
5. Consecutive expository preaching makes for variety in the style of the sermon.
6. Consecutive expository preaching models good nourishing Bible reading for the ordinary Christian.
7. Consecutive expository preaching helps us preach the whole Christ from the whole of Scripture.
John Starke is the managing editor of TGC Reviews. He and his wife Jena live with their three children in Louisville, KY where John is a Master of Divinity student at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. They are members of Clifton Baptist Church. John blogs regularly at John Ploughman.
1. Consecutive expository preaching safeguards God’s agenda against being hijacked by ours.
2. Consecutive expository preaching makes it harder for us to abuse the Bible by reading it out of context.
3. Consecutive expository preaching dilutes the selectivity of the preacher.
4. Consecutive expository preaching keeps the content of the sermon fresh and surprising.
5. Consecutive expository preaching makes for variety in the style of the sermon.
6. Consecutive expository preaching models good nourishing Bible reading for the ordinary Christian.
7. Consecutive expository preaching helps us preach the whole Christ from the whole of Scripture.
John Starke is the managing editor of TGC Reviews. He and his wife Jena live with their three children in Louisville, KY where John is a Master of Divinity student at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. They are members of Clifton Baptist Church. John blogs regularly at John Ploughman.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Luther on John 14:6
'I am the way.' --John 14:6
Christ is not only the Way on which we must begin our journey, but He is also the right and the safe Way we must walk to the end. We dare not be deflected from this. . . . Here Christ wants to say: 'When you have apprehended Me in faith, you are on the right way, which is reliable and does not mislead you. But only see that you remain and continue on it.' . . . Christ wants to tear and turn our hearts from all trust in anything else and pin them to Himself alone.
--Martin Luther, sermon on John 14:6, in Luther's Works, 24:47, 48, 50
Luther is teaching me that the Christian life can easily be boiled down into two simple steps.
1. Trust in Christ
2. See #1
Dane Ortlund, dogmadoxa.blogspot.com/2010/04/luther-on-john-146.html
Christ is not only the Way on which we must begin our journey, but He is also the right and the safe Way we must walk to the end. We dare not be deflected from this. . . . Here Christ wants to say: 'When you have apprehended Me in faith, you are on the right way, which is reliable and does not mislead you. But only see that you remain and continue on it.' . . . Christ wants to tear and turn our hearts from all trust in anything else and pin them to Himself alone.
--Martin Luther, sermon on John 14:6, in Luther's Works, 24:47, 48, 50
Luther is teaching me that the Christian life can easily be boiled down into two simple steps.
1. Trust in Christ
2. See #1
Dane Ortlund, dogmadoxa.blogspot.com/2010/04/luther-on-john-146.html
Monday, March 22, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
Two great quotes from Tullian on the church
The Church belongs to no man—it belongs to Christ. He bought her w/ his blood, therefore He alone has the right to be possessive over her.
Every pastor, regardless of his age, needs to be constantly reminded that the church he leads is not his church: it's Christ’s church.
twitter.com/PastorTullian
Every pastor, regardless of his age, needs to be constantly reminded that the church he leads is not his church: it's Christ’s church.
twitter.com/PastorTullian
Counterfeit Gospels by Tullian Tchividjian
In light of Paul Tripp coming to Coral Ridge this weekend, I’ve gone back through a lot of my Paul Tripp books–he’s such a huge gift to the church!
In one of his books (co-authored with Tim Lane), How People Change, he identifies seven counterfeit gospels—-”religious” ways we try and “justify” or “save” ourselves apart from the gospel of grace. I found these unbelievably helpful. Which one (or two, or three) of these do you tend to gravitate towards?
Formalism. “I participate in the regular meetings and ministries of the church, so I feel like my life is under control. I’m always in church, but it really has little impact on my heart or on how I live. I may become judgmental and impatient with those who do not have the same commitment as I do.”
Legalism. “I live by the rules—rules I create for myself and rules I create for others. I feel good if I can keep my own rules, and I become arrogant and full of contempt when others don’t meet the standards I set for them. There is no joy in my life because there is no grace to be celebrated.”
Mysticism. “I am engaged in the incessant pursuit of an emotional experience with God. I live for the moments when I feel close to him, and I often struggle with discouragement when I don’t feel that way. I may change churches often, too, looking for one that will give me what I’m looking for.”
Activism. “I recognize the missional nature of Christianity and am passionately involved in fixing this broken world. But at the end of the day, my life is more of a defense of what’s right than a joyful pursuit of Christ.”
Biblicism. “I know my Bible inside and out, but I do not let it master me. I have reduced the gospel to a mastery of biblical content and theology, so I am intolerant and critical of those with lesser knowledge.”
Therapism. “I talk a lot about the hurting people in our congregation, and how Christ is the only answer for their hurt. Yet even without realizing it, I have made Christ more Therapist than Savior. I view hurt as a greater problem than sin—and I subtly shift my greatest need from my moral failure to my unmet needs.”
Social-ism. “The deep fellowship and friendships I find at church have become their own idol. The body of Christ has replaced Christ himself, and the gospel is reduced to a network of fulfilling Christian relationships.”
As I said two weeks ago in my sermon, there are outside-the-church idols and there are inside-the-church idols. It’s the idols inside the church that ought to concern Christians most. It’s easier for Christians to identify worldly idols such as money, power, selfish ambition, sex, and so on. It’s the idols inside the church that we have a harder time identifying.
For instance, we know it’s wrong to bow to the god of power—but it’s also wrong to bow to the god of preferences. We know it’s wrong to worship immorality—but it’s also wrong to worship morality. We know it’s wrong to seek freedom by breaking the rules—but it’s also wrong to seek freedom by keeping them. We know God hates unrighteousness—but he also hates self-righteousness. We know crime is a sin—but so is control. If people outside the church try to save themselves by being bad; people inside the church try to save themselves by being good.
The good news of the gospel is that both inside and outside the church, there is only One Savior and Lord, namely Jesus. And he came, not to angrily strip away our freedom, but to affectionately strip away our slavery to lesser things so that we might become truly free!
www.crpc.org/public/blog/
In one of his books (co-authored with Tim Lane), How People Change, he identifies seven counterfeit gospels—-”religious” ways we try and “justify” or “save” ourselves apart from the gospel of grace. I found these unbelievably helpful. Which one (or two, or three) of these do you tend to gravitate towards?
Formalism. “I participate in the regular meetings and ministries of the church, so I feel like my life is under control. I’m always in church, but it really has little impact on my heart or on how I live. I may become judgmental and impatient with those who do not have the same commitment as I do.”
Legalism. “I live by the rules—rules I create for myself and rules I create for others. I feel good if I can keep my own rules, and I become arrogant and full of contempt when others don’t meet the standards I set for them. There is no joy in my life because there is no grace to be celebrated.”
Mysticism. “I am engaged in the incessant pursuit of an emotional experience with God. I live for the moments when I feel close to him, and I often struggle with discouragement when I don’t feel that way. I may change churches often, too, looking for one that will give me what I’m looking for.”
Activism. “I recognize the missional nature of Christianity and am passionately involved in fixing this broken world. But at the end of the day, my life is more of a defense of what’s right than a joyful pursuit of Christ.”
Biblicism. “I know my Bible inside and out, but I do not let it master me. I have reduced the gospel to a mastery of biblical content and theology, so I am intolerant and critical of those with lesser knowledge.”
Therapism. “I talk a lot about the hurting people in our congregation, and how Christ is the only answer for their hurt. Yet even without realizing it, I have made Christ more Therapist than Savior. I view hurt as a greater problem than sin—and I subtly shift my greatest need from my moral failure to my unmet needs.”
Social-ism. “The deep fellowship and friendships I find at church have become their own idol. The body of Christ has replaced Christ himself, and the gospel is reduced to a network of fulfilling Christian relationships.”
As I said two weeks ago in my sermon, there are outside-the-church idols and there are inside-the-church idols. It’s the idols inside the church that ought to concern Christians most. It’s easier for Christians to identify worldly idols such as money, power, selfish ambition, sex, and so on. It’s the idols inside the church that we have a harder time identifying.
For instance, we know it’s wrong to bow to the god of power—but it’s also wrong to bow to the god of preferences. We know it’s wrong to worship immorality—but it’s also wrong to worship morality. We know it’s wrong to seek freedom by breaking the rules—but it’s also wrong to seek freedom by keeping them. We know God hates unrighteousness—but he also hates self-righteousness. We know crime is a sin—but so is control. If people outside the church try to save themselves by being bad; people inside the church try to save themselves by being good.
The good news of the gospel is that both inside and outside the church, there is only One Savior and Lord, namely Jesus. And he came, not to angrily strip away our freedom, but to affectionately strip away our slavery to lesser things so that we might become truly free!
www.crpc.org/public/blog/
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Packer's Distinction Between Calvinism and Arminianism
In his introductory essay to John Owen’s The Death of Death in the Death of Christ, J. I. Packer writes that Calvinism and Arminianism are “two coherent interpretations of the biblical gospel, which stand in evident opposition to each other. The difference between them is not primarily one of emphasis, but of content.”
Packer continues, (paragraphing added)
One proclaims a God who saves; the other speaks of a God who enables man to save himself.
One view presents the three great acts of the Holy Trinity for the recovering of lost mankind—election by the Father, redemption by the Son, calling by the Spirit—as directed towards the same persons, and as securing their salvation infallibly.
The other view gives each act a different reference (the objects of redemption being all mankind, of calling, those who hear the gospel, and of election, those hearers who respond), and denies that any man’s salvation is secured by any of them.
The two theologies thus conceive the plan of salvation in quite different terms.
One makes salvation depend on the work of God, the other on a work of man; one regards faith as part of God’s gift of salvation, the other as man’s own contribution to salvation; one gives all the glory of saving believers to God, the other divides the praise between God, who, so to speak, built the machinery of salvation, and man, who by believing operated it.
Plainly these differences are important, and the permanent value of the “five points,” as a summary of Calvinism, is that they make clear the points at which, and the extent to which, these two conceptions are at variance.
From desiringgod.org, March 17, 2010
Packer continues, (paragraphing added)
One proclaims a God who saves; the other speaks of a God who enables man to save himself.
One view presents the three great acts of the Holy Trinity for the recovering of lost mankind—election by the Father, redemption by the Son, calling by the Spirit—as directed towards the same persons, and as securing their salvation infallibly.
The other view gives each act a different reference (the objects of redemption being all mankind, of calling, those who hear the gospel, and of election, those hearers who respond), and denies that any man’s salvation is secured by any of them.
The two theologies thus conceive the plan of salvation in quite different terms.
One makes salvation depend on the work of God, the other on a work of man; one regards faith as part of God’s gift of salvation, the other as man’s own contribution to salvation; one gives all the glory of saving believers to God, the other divides the praise between God, who, so to speak, built the machinery of salvation, and man, who by believing operated it.
Plainly these differences are important, and the permanent value of the “five points,” as a summary of Calvinism, is that they make clear the points at which, and the extent to which, these two conceptions are at variance.
From desiringgod.org, March 17, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Forgiveness
An unforgiving spirit demonstrates that one has completely failed to grasp the forgiveness of God in his or her own life, even at the most basic level. Such a spirit is a complete contradiction to the character of God.
The implications of this should cause us to ask some serious questions about our spiritual condition:
• Can an unforgiving spirit and the Holy Spirit co-exist in the life of a person?
• In light of Jesus’ statement in Matthew 6:14-15, For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses, what does this mean in terms of my own forgiveness?
The implications of this should cause us to ask some serious questions about our spiritual condition:
• Can an unforgiving spirit and the Holy Spirit co-exist in the life of a person?
• In light of Jesus’ statement in Matthew 6:14-15, For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses, what does this mean in terms of my own forgiveness?
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Al Mohler on Why We Hear So Little of the Bible
It is well and good for the preacher to base his sermon on the Bible, but he better get to something relevant pretty quickly, or we start mentally to check out." That stunningly clear sentence reflects one of the most amazing, tragic, and lamentable characteristics of contemporary Christianity -- an impatience with the Word of God.
The sentence above comes from Mark Galli, senior managing editor of Christianity Today in an essay entitled "Yawning at the Word." In just a few hundred words, he captures the tragedy of a church increasingly impatient with and resistant to the reading and preaching of the Bible. We may wince when we read him relate his recent experiences, but we also recognize the ring of truth.
Galli was told to cut down on the biblical references in his sermon. "You'll lose people," the staff member warned. In a Bible study session on creation, the teacher was requested to come back the next Sunday prepared to take questions at the expense of reading the relevant scriptural texts on the doctrine. Cutting down on the number of Bible verses "would save time and, it was strongly implied, would better hold people's interest."
As Galli reflected, "Anyone who's been in the preaching and teaching business knows these are not isolated examples but represent the larger reality."
Indeed, in many churches there is very little reading of the Bible in worship, and sermons are marked by attention to the congregation's concerns - not by an adequate attention to the biblical text. The exposition of the Bible has given way to the concerns, real or perceived, of the listeners. The authority of the Bible is swallowed up in the imposed authority of congregational concerns.
As Mark Galli notes:
It has been said to the point of boredom that we live in a narcissistic age, where we are wont to fixate on our needs, our wants, our wishes, and our hopes—at the expense of others and certainly at the expense of God. We do not like it when a teacher uses up the whole class time presenting her material, even if it is material from the Word of God. We want to be able to ask our questions about our concerns, otherwise we feel talked down to, or we feel the class is not relevant to our lives.
It is well and good for the preacher to base his sermon on the Bible, but he better get to something relevant pretty quickly, or we start mentally to check out. Don't spend a lot of time in the Bible, we tell our preachers, but be sure to get to personal illustrations, examples from daily life, and most importantly, an application that we can use.
The fixation on our own sense of need and interest looms as the most significant factor in this marginalization and silencing of the Word. Individually, each human being in the room is an amalgam of wants, needs, intuitions, interests, and distractions. Corporately, the congregation is a mass of expectations, desperate hopes, consuming fears, and impatient urges. All of this adds up, unless countered by the authentic reading and preaching of the Word of God, to a form of group therapy, entertainment, and wasted time -- if not worse.
Galli has this situation clearly in his sights when he asserts that many congregations expect the preacher to start from some text in the Bible, but then quickly move on "to things that really interest us." Like . . . ourselves?
One of the earliest examples of what we would call the preaching of the Bible may well be found in Nehemiah 8:1-8:
And all the people gathered as one man into the square before the Water Gate. And they told Ezra the scribe to bring the Book of the Law of Moses that the Lord had commanded Israel. So Ezra the priest brought the Law before the assembly, both men and women and all who could understand what they heard, on the first day of the seventh month. And he read from it facing the square before the Water Gate from early morning until midday, in the presence of the men and the women and those who could understand. And the ears of all the people were attentive to the Book of the Law. And Ezra the scribe stood on a wooden platform that they had made for the purpose. And beside him stood Mattithiah, Shema, Anaiah, Uriah, Hilkiah, and Maaseiah on his right hand, and Pedaiah, Mishael, Malchijah, Hashum, Hashbaddanah, Zechariah, and Meshullam on his left hand. And Ezra opened the book in the sight of all the people, for he was above all the people, and as he opened it all the people stood. And Ezra blessed the Lord, the great God, and all the people answered, “Amen, Amen,” lifting up their hands. And they bowed their heads and worshiped the Lord. Also Jeshua, Bani, Sherebiah, Jamin, Akkub, Shabbethai, Hodiah, Maaseiah, Kelita, Azariah, Jozabad, Hanan, Pelaiah, the Levites, helped the people to understand the Law, while the people remained in their places. They read from the book, from the Law of God, clearly, and they gave the sense, so that the people understood the reading with their faces to the ground. [English Standard Version]
Ezra and his companions stood on a platform before the congregation. They read the scriptural text clearly, and then explained the meaning of the Scripture to the people. The congregation received the Word humbly, while standing. The pattern is profoundly easy to understand -- the Bible was read and explained and received.
As Hughes Oliphant Old comments, "This account of the reading of the Law indicates that already at the time of the writing of this text there was a considerable amount of ceremonial framing of the public reading of Scripture. This ceremonial framing is a witness to the authority of the Bible." The reading and exposition took place in a context of worship as the people listened to the Word of God. The point of the sermon was simple -- "to make clear the reading of the Scriptures."
In many churches, there is almost no public reading of the Word of God. Worship is filled with music, but congregations seem disinterested in listening to the reading of the Bible. We are called to sing in worship, but the congregation cannot live only on the portions of Scripture that are woven into songs and hymns. Christians need the ministry of the Word as the Bible is read before the congregation and God's people -- young and old, rich and poor, married and unmarried, sick and well -- hear it together. The sermon is to consist of the exposition of the Word of God, powerfully and faithfully read, explained, and applied. It is not enough that the sermon take a biblical text as its starting point.
How can so many of today's churches demonstrate what can only be described as an impatience with the Word of God? The biblical formula is clear -- the neglect of the Word can only lead to disaster, disobedience, and death. God rescues his church from error, preserves his church in truth, and propels his church in witness only by his Word -- not by congregational self-study.
In the end, an impatience with the Word of God can be explained only by an impatience with God. We -- both individually and congregationally -- neglect God's Word to our own ruin.
As Jesus himself declared, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear."
__________________________________
Mark Galli, "Yawning at the Word," Christianity Today [online edition], posted November 5, 2009. http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2009/novemberweb-only/144-41.0.html
Hughes Oliphant Old, The Reading and Preaching of the Scriptures in the Worship of the Christian Church, vol. 1, "The Biblical Period" (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), pp. 98-99.
albertmohler.com
The sentence above comes from Mark Galli, senior managing editor of Christianity Today in an essay entitled "Yawning at the Word." In just a few hundred words, he captures the tragedy of a church increasingly impatient with and resistant to the reading and preaching of the Bible. We may wince when we read him relate his recent experiences, but we also recognize the ring of truth.
Galli was told to cut down on the biblical references in his sermon. "You'll lose people," the staff member warned. In a Bible study session on creation, the teacher was requested to come back the next Sunday prepared to take questions at the expense of reading the relevant scriptural texts on the doctrine. Cutting down on the number of Bible verses "would save time and, it was strongly implied, would better hold people's interest."
As Galli reflected, "Anyone who's been in the preaching and teaching business knows these are not isolated examples but represent the larger reality."
Indeed, in many churches there is very little reading of the Bible in worship, and sermons are marked by attention to the congregation's concerns - not by an adequate attention to the biblical text. The exposition of the Bible has given way to the concerns, real or perceived, of the listeners. The authority of the Bible is swallowed up in the imposed authority of congregational concerns.
As Mark Galli notes:
It has been said to the point of boredom that we live in a narcissistic age, where we are wont to fixate on our needs, our wants, our wishes, and our hopes—at the expense of others and certainly at the expense of God. We do not like it when a teacher uses up the whole class time presenting her material, even if it is material from the Word of God. We want to be able to ask our questions about our concerns, otherwise we feel talked down to, or we feel the class is not relevant to our lives.
It is well and good for the preacher to base his sermon on the Bible, but he better get to something relevant pretty quickly, or we start mentally to check out. Don't spend a lot of time in the Bible, we tell our preachers, but be sure to get to personal illustrations, examples from daily life, and most importantly, an application that we can use.
The fixation on our own sense of need and interest looms as the most significant factor in this marginalization and silencing of the Word. Individually, each human being in the room is an amalgam of wants, needs, intuitions, interests, and distractions. Corporately, the congregation is a mass of expectations, desperate hopes, consuming fears, and impatient urges. All of this adds up, unless countered by the authentic reading and preaching of the Word of God, to a form of group therapy, entertainment, and wasted time -- if not worse.
Galli has this situation clearly in his sights when he asserts that many congregations expect the preacher to start from some text in the Bible, but then quickly move on "to things that really interest us." Like . . . ourselves?
One of the earliest examples of what we would call the preaching of the Bible may well be found in Nehemiah 8:1-8:
And all the people gathered as one man into the square before the Water Gate. And they told Ezra the scribe to bring the Book of the Law of Moses that the Lord had commanded Israel. So Ezra the priest brought the Law before the assembly, both men and women and all who could understand what they heard, on the first day of the seventh month. And he read from it facing the square before the Water Gate from early morning until midday, in the presence of the men and the women and those who could understand. And the ears of all the people were attentive to the Book of the Law. And Ezra the scribe stood on a wooden platform that they had made for the purpose. And beside him stood Mattithiah, Shema, Anaiah, Uriah, Hilkiah, and Maaseiah on his right hand, and Pedaiah, Mishael, Malchijah, Hashum, Hashbaddanah, Zechariah, and Meshullam on his left hand. And Ezra opened the book in the sight of all the people, for he was above all the people, and as he opened it all the people stood. And Ezra blessed the Lord, the great God, and all the people answered, “Amen, Amen,” lifting up their hands. And they bowed their heads and worshiped the Lord. Also Jeshua, Bani, Sherebiah, Jamin, Akkub, Shabbethai, Hodiah, Maaseiah, Kelita, Azariah, Jozabad, Hanan, Pelaiah, the Levites, helped the people to understand the Law, while the people remained in their places. They read from the book, from the Law of God, clearly, and they gave the sense, so that the people understood the reading with their faces to the ground. [English Standard Version]
Ezra and his companions stood on a platform before the congregation. They read the scriptural text clearly, and then explained the meaning of the Scripture to the people. The congregation received the Word humbly, while standing. The pattern is profoundly easy to understand -- the Bible was read and explained and received.
As Hughes Oliphant Old comments, "This account of the reading of the Law indicates that already at the time of the writing of this text there was a considerable amount of ceremonial framing of the public reading of Scripture. This ceremonial framing is a witness to the authority of the Bible." The reading and exposition took place in a context of worship as the people listened to the Word of God. The point of the sermon was simple -- "to make clear the reading of the Scriptures."
In many churches, there is almost no public reading of the Word of God. Worship is filled with music, but congregations seem disinterested in listening to the reading of the Bible. We are called to sing in worship, but the congregation cannot live only on the portions of Scripture that are woven into songs and hymns. Christians need the ministry of the Word as the Bible is read before the congregation and God's people -- young and old, rich and poor, married and unmarried, sick and well -- hear it together. The sermon is to consist of the exposition of the Word of God, powerfully and faithfully read, explained, and applied. It is not enough that the sermon take a biblical text as its starting point.
How can so many of today's churches demonstrate what can only be described as an impatience with the Word of God? The biblical formula is clear -- the neglect of the Word can only lead to disaster, disobedience, and death. God rescues his church from error, preserves his church in truth, and propels his church in witness only by his Word -- not by congregational self-study.
In the end, an impatience with the Word of God can be explained only by an impatience with God. We -- both individually and congregationally -- neglect God's Word to our own ruin.
As Jesus himself declared, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear."
__________________________________
Mark Galli, "Yawning at the Word," Christianity Today [online edition], posted November 5, 2009. http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2009/novemberweb-only/144-41.0.html
Hughes Oliphant Old, The Reading and Preaching of the Scriptures in the Worship of the Christian Church, vol. 1, "The Biblical Period" (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), pp. 98-99.
albertmohler.com
Richard Baxter on Preaching
“I always preach as never sure to preach again, and as a dying man to dying men.”
Friday, February 19, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
A Peculiar Proposal
Adoniram Judson, the first Baptist missionary from America, married Ann Hasseltine on February 5, 1812. They boarded a boat 2 weeks later and headed to Burma, where they had a rich marriage and a fruitful ministry.
A month after he met her, Adoniram wrote Ann a letter asking for permission to be her suitor. This was close to what we would call a proposal. She did not answer it for several days. When she finally did, Ann evaded the question, saying he would need to ask her parents first. Here is the letter Adoniram promptly sent to her dad:
I have now to ask, whether you can consent to part with your daughter early next spring, to see her no more in this world; whether you can consent to her departure, and her subjection to the hardships and sufferings of a missionary life; whether you can consent to her exposure to the dangers of the ocean; to the fatal influence of the southern climate of India; to every kind of want and distress; to degradation, insult, persecution, and perhaps a violent death. Can you consent to all this, for the sake of him who left his heavenly home, and died for her and for you; for the sake of perishing, immortal souls; for the sake of Zion, and the glory of God? Can you consent to all this, in hope of soon meeting your daughter in the world of glory, with the crown of righteousness, brightened with the acclamations of praise which shall redound to her Saviour from heathens saved, through her means, from eternal woe and despair. (Quoted in Courtney Anderson, To The Golden Shore: The Life of Adoniram Judson [Valley Forge: Judson Press, 1987], 83.)
At least two things impress me about this letter:
1. Ann’s dad, John, impresses me. What a disturbing letter to receive! When I met with my wife’s Father, I can assure you I did not emphasize hardships, sufferings, dangers, fatal climates, or violent deaths. One of John Hasseltine’s friends said he would rather tie his daughter to the bedpost than let her go across the world. But John told Ann it was her decision. Anne married Adoniram. She died in Burma.
We need more parents who give their children to the service of Christ. How discouraging it is for a young man or woman to feel called to the mission field and have their Christian parents try to talk them out of it or forbid them to go. Will we raise our children and entrust them to God for His glory and the good of immortal souls?
2. I am impressed by the Judsons’ single-minded commitment to the cause of Christ. Adoniram was not exaggerating or being dramatic in his letter. Going to live in Burma was a very dangerous mission. They both knew they would probably die among strangers. Ann struggled with her decision but eventually decided to marry the man she loved. Soon after accepting the proposal, she wrote to her friend:
I feel willing, and expect, if nothing in providence prevents, to spend my days in this world in heathen lands. Yes, Lydia, I have about come to the determination to give up all my comforts and enjoyments here, sacrifice my affection to relatives and friends, and go where God, in his providence, shall see fit to place me. (Quoted in Anderson, To the Golden Shore, 84.)
Mark Rogers is a Ph.D. student in historical theology at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in Deerfield, IL. A former college pastor and associate pastor, Mark is the editor of "Glimpses of Christian History" and is writing his dissertation on evangelical missions between 1925 and 1945.
thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tgc/2010/02/16/a-peculiar-proposal/
A month after he met her, Adoniram wrote Ann a letter asking for permission to be her suitor. This was close to what we would call a proposal. She did not answer it for several days. When she finally did, Ann evaded the question, saying he would need to ask her parents first. Here is the letter Adoniram promptly sent to her dad:
I have now to ask, whether you can consent to part with your daughter early next spring, to see her no more in this world; whether you can consent to her departure, and her subjection to the hardships and sufferings of a missionary life; whether you can consent to her exposure to the dangers of the ocean; to the fatal influence of the southern climate of India; to every kind of want and distress; to degradation, insult, persecution, and perhaps a violent death. Can you consent to all this, for the sake of him who left his heavenly home, and died for her and for you; for the sake of perishing, immortal souls; for the sake of Zion, and the glory of God? Can you consent to all this, in hope of soon meeting your daughter in the world of glory, with the crown of righteousness, brightened with the acclamations of praise which shall redound to her Saviour from heathens saved, through her means, from eternal woe and despair. (Quoted in Courtney Anderson, To The Golden Shore: The Life of Adoniram Judson [Valley Forge: Judson Press, 1987], 83.)
At least two things impress me about this letter:
1. Ann’s dad, John, impresses me. What a disturbing letter to receive! When I met with my wife’s Father, I can assure you I did not emphasize hardships, sufferings, dangers, fatal climates, or violent deaths. One of John Hasseltine’s friends said he would rather tie his daughter to the bedpost than let her go across the world. But John told Ann it was her decision. Anne married Adoniram. She died in Burma.
We need more parents who give their children to the service of Christ. How discouraging it is for a young man or woman to feel called to the mission field and have their Christian parents try to talk them out of it or forbid them to go. Will we raise our children and entrust them to God for His glory and the good of immortal souls?
2. I am impressed by the Judsons’ single-minded commitment to the cause of Christ. Adoniram was not exaggerating or being dramatic in his letter. Going to live in Burma was a very dangerous mission. They both knew they would probably die among strangers. Ann struggled with her decision but eventually decided to marry the man she loved. Soon after accepting the proposal, she wrote to her friend:
I feel willing, and expect, if nothing in providence prevents, to spend my days in this world in heathen lands. Yes, Lydia, I have about come to the determination to give up all my comforts and enjoyments here, sacrifice my affection to relatives and friends, and go where God, in his providence, shall see fit to place me. (Quoted in Anderson, To the Golden Shore, 84.)
Mark Rogers is a Ph.D. student in historical theology at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in Deerfield, IL. A former college pastor and associate pastor, Mark is the editor of "Glimpses of Christian History" and is writing his dissertation on evangelical missions between 1925 and 1945.
thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tgc/2010/02/16/a-peculiar-proposal/
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
The Authority of Preaching by Thabiti Anyabwile
Those who love preaching, who believe in the centrality of preaching, and who live by the preached word have little quibble with the authority of preaching. We believe that a certain exercise of God's rule comes along with the proclamation of His word. We are to hear and to obey, to give careful attention to "what thus saith the Lord."
But sometimes, those who love preaching most may abuse its authority most. That is, we may abuse the authority of preaching by forgetting or failing to make clear where that authority comes from.
Wayne Grudem helps us correct this omission or tendency:
Throughout the history of the church the greatest preachers have been those who have recognized that they have no authority in themselves, and have seen their task as being to explain the words of Scripture and apply them clearly to the lives of their hearers. Their preaching has drawn its power not from the proclamation of their own Christian experiences or the experiences of others, nor from their own opinions, creative ideas, or rhetorical skills, but from God's powerful words. Essentially, they stood in the pulpit, pointed to the biblical text, and said in effect to the congregation, "This is what this verse means. Do you see that meaning here as well? Then you must believe it and obey it with all your heart, for God himself, your Creator and your Lord, is saying this to you today!" Only the written words of Scripture can give this kind of authority to preaching. (Bible Doctrine, p. 40)
Gentlemen, preach the word! In season and out of season. Preach as it really is, the word of God. Call your hearers to receive it as it really is, the word of God, not the word of man. Challenge them to obey it as obeying God Himself. And let the authority of God thunder as the word of God falls like a hammer!
blog.9marks.org/
But sometimes, those who love preaching most may abuse its authority most. That is, we may abuse the authority of preaching by forgetting or failing to make clear where that authority comes from.
Wayne Grudem helps us correct this omission or tendency:
Throughout the history of the church the greatest preachers have been those who have recognized that they have no authority in themselves, and have seen their task as being to explain the words of Scripture and apply them clearly to the lives of their hearers. Their preaching has drawn its power not from the proclamation of their own Christian experiences or the experiences of others, nor from their own opinions, creative ideas, or rhetorical skills, but from God's powerful words. Essentially, they stood in the pulpit, pointed to the biblical text, and said in effect to the congregation, "This is what this verse means. Do you see that meaning here as well? Then you must believe it and obey it with all your heart, for God himself, your Creator and your Lord, is saying this to you today!" Only the written words of Scripture can give this kind of authority to preaching. (Bible Doctrine, p. 40)
Gentlemen, preach the word! In season and out of season. Preach as it really is, the word of God. Call your hearers to receive it as it really is, the word of God, not the word of man. Challenge them to obey it as obeying God Himself. And let the authority of God thunder as the word of God falls like a hammer!
blog.9marks.org/
Thursday, February 4, 2010
The Body of Christ
Our union with Christ and with his body is so intrinsically tied together in Scripture that one simply cannot separate his or her relationship with Christ from a relationship with Christ’s body, the church.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
The Missing Motive by Eric Alexander
I am notoriously bad at remembering anniversaries, and last year it was quite a surprise to discover that 2008 marked the fiftieth anniversary of my ordination to the Christian ministry. Not that the occasion was other than memorable. Indeed it was a very special day for many reasons. But I am bound to say that the truly unforgettable part of a moving service was one of the statutory questions put to me by the presbytery: “Are not zeal for the glory of God, and a desire for the salvation of men, so far as you know your own heart, your great motives and chief inducements in seeking this ministry?” I had to answer, “They are.”
For the past fifty years that question has haunted me, especially as I have climbed the steps of various pulpits to preach, or attended the ordination service of others, or as I have reviewed the year each 31st of December. Abraham Kuyper, that extraordinary Dutch theologian who became the prime minister of his country, points out that the Reformation slogan is not just Deo gloria, but soli Deo gloria. It is a passion for the glory of God as the sole motive of everything.
Now in recent years I have been troubled by the tendency in the evangelical church to be more taken up with methods rather than motives. So I frequently hear of conferences where brethren meet to share insights into new and better methods by which we may fulfill our ministry. I’m sure they are very valuable, and I hope I am not so naïve as to think that methods are unimportant in God’s work. But I have almost never heard of a conference where brethren have met together before God to ask each other: “In all honesty, what are the compelling motives that determine the direction of my ministry?”
Yet Jesus laid great stress on motives: “I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me” (John 5:30). Looking back over His ministry He says, “I have glorified you by finishing the work you gave me to do” (John 17:4). The glory of the Father was the terminus of everything for Jesus. There was nothing beyond this. And He means it to be so for us.
That is why it is such a serious thing to rob God of His glory. He will not share that glory with another just because He cherishes His own glory above everything else and is jealous of it; it is the motive of everything He does (Isa. 48:11). Paul tells us that the Father’s motive in exalting Christ to the highest place and giving Him a name that is above every name is “the glory of God the Father” (Phil. 2:11). If we have any other end in view, then quite simply we will labor without the blessing of God.
Zeal for the glory of God as the controlling motive of our thinking and working will deeply affect at least four areas of our life in the evangelical church. They are worship, evangelism, unity, and church growth.
Worship
What makes worship in heaven so remarkable and so different is that there is only one desire among God’s people there, and that is to bring glory to God and to the Lamb (see Rev. 4:11; 5:11–14). Our worship here on earth is intended to be a preparation for that pure and perfect worship in the glory. Yet, I suspect that in our concern to make our worship acceptable to those who come to our churches, we are more interested in their acceptance than God’s pleasure. The one quality that equips us to worship God in spirit and in truth is a hunger for His glory.
Evangelism
If you ask members of an evangelical church what the motives for evangelism are, they will almost certainly respond with two accurate and acceptable answers. One would be the Great Commission, and the other would be the condition of the lost who are without Christ. But neither of these is the ultimate motive. The ultimate motive is that throughout the world there are places where God is being robbed of His glory: in our own street, at our place of work, in professions and governments — wherever we turn it is true that men and women have “worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever” (Rom. 1:18–32). ]
Unity
The reason Jesus brings together in John 17 the glory of the Father and the Son and the unity of the disciples in the church is that the motive deriving from the former is the only effective way of securing the latter. Unless our entire motivation is set on fire by an overwhelming desire for the glory of God — all wills bowing in the same direction, all hearts burning with the same flame, all minds united by the same obedience — we shall never know the unity for which Jesus prays.
Church Growth
How is God most glorified in the growth of the church? Not primarily by growth in numbers but by growth in depth and in quality — growth in the knowledge of God.
So we really do need to allow that question to haunt us: “Are not zeal for the glory of God and a desire for the salvation of men, so far as we know our own hearts, our great motives and chief inducements in seeking this ministry?” God help us in the last day to reply, “They were.”
www.ligonier.org/learn/articles/missing-motive/
For the past fifty years that question has haunted me, especially as I have climbed the steps of various pulpits to preach, or attended the ordination service of others, or as I have reviewed the year each 31st of December. Abraham Kuyper, that extraordinary Dutch theologian who became the prime minister of his country, points out that the Reformation slogan is not just Deo gloria, but soli Deo gloria. It is a passion for the glory of God as the sole motive of everything.
Now in recent years I have been troubled by the tendency in the evangelical church to be more taken up with methods rather than motives. So I frequently hear of conferences where brethren meet to share insights into new and better methods by which we may fulfill our ministry. I’m sure they are very valuable, and I hope I am not so naïve as to think that methods are unimportant in God’s work. But I have almost never heard of a conference where brethren have met together before God to ask each other: “In all honesty, what are the compelling motives that determine the direction of my ministry?”
Yet Jesus laid great stress on motives: “I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me” (John 5:30). Looking back over His ministry He says, “I have glorified you by finishing the work you gave me to do” (John 17:4). The glory of the Father was the terminus of everything for Jesus. There was nothing beyond this. And He means it to be so for us.
That is why it is such a serious thing to rob God of His glory. He will not share that glory with another just because He cherishes His own glory above everything else and is jealous of it; it is the motive of everything He does (Isa. 48:11). Paul tells us that the Father’s motive in exalting Christ to the highest place and giving Him a name that is above every name is “the glory of God the Father” (Phil. 2:11). If we have any other end in view, then quite simply we will labor without the blessing of God.
Zeal for the glory of God as the controlling motive of our thinking and working will deeply affect at least four areas of our life in the evangelical church. They are worship, evangelism, unity, and church growth.
Worship
What makes worship in heaven so remarkable and so different is that there is only one desire among God’s people there, and that is to bring glory to God and to the Lamb (see Rev. 4:11; 5:11–14). Our worship here on earth is intended to be a preparation for that pure and perfect worship in the glory. Yet, I suspect that in our concern to make our worship acceptable to those who come to our churches, we are more interested in their acceptance than God’s pleasure. The one quality that equips us to worship God in spirit and in truth is a hunger for His glory.
Evangelism
If you ask members of an evangelical church what the motives for evangelism are, they will almost certainly respond with two accurate and acceptable answers. One would be the Great Commission, and the other would be the condition of the lost who are without Christ. But neither of these is the ultimate motive. The ultimate motive is that throughout the world there are places where God is being robbed of His glory: in our own street, at our place of work, in professions and governments — wherever we turn it is true that men and women have “worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever” (Rom. 1:18–32). ]
Unity
The reason Jesus brings together in John 17 the glory of the Father and the Son and the unity of the disciples in the church is that the motive deriving from the former is the only effective way of securing the latter. Unless our entire motivation is set on fire by an overwhelming desire for the glory of God — all wills bowing in the same direction, all hearts burning with the same flame, all minds united by the same obedience — we shall never know the unity for which Jesus prays.
Church Growth
How is God most glorified in the growth of the church? Not primarily by growth in numbers but by growth in depth and in quality — growth in the knowledge of God.
So we really do need to allow that question to haunt us: “Are not zeal for the glory of God and a desire for the salvation of men, so far as we know our own hearts, our great motives and chief inducements in seeking this ministry?” God help us in the last day to reply, “They were.”
www.ligonier.org/learn/articles/missing-motive/
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Ain’t No Shame, Kevin DeYoung
Every once in awhile a little rant is called for. So here’s mine.
What ever happened to being called a Christian? Did I miss the ecumenical council that decreed the phrase “Christ follower” or “Jesus-disciple” be used for churchgoers under the age of 40? Of course, there’s nothing wrong with calling yourself a “Christ follower” or a “Jesus-disciple.” You can be a part of “Team Jesus” or walk in the “way of Rabbi Yeshua” if that floats your boat. There are plenty of justifiable phrases to go around.
Provided we don’t pick our phrases in order to avoid necessary unpleasantries.
I understand that “Christian” may feel stale, and that it carries baggage with some people. But the label is biblical (Acts 11:26). And the baggage is sometimes unavoidable. If you want to be a “follower of Jesus” instead of a “Christian” because the former implies only ethical emulation, while the latter suggests doctrinal and institutional commitment, then you need to check your motives not the baggage. Again, I don’t have a problem using “disciple of Jesus” to spice things up a bit. A phrase like that may even be prudent in extreme situations of persecution. But if we in North America are using it just to be trendy, or to gut Christianity of its theological center, or to simply avoid being one of those guys, we should really take a deep breath and learn to live with a term that’s been around since first century Antioch.
And while I’m at it, we should also be careful that we don’t make everything about “Jesus.” (Wait a second, did he just say that?!) Let me explain. I love Jesus. I love to pray to Jesus. I love to say the name “Jesus” in my sermons, a lot. I talk about following Jesus, worshiping Jesus, believing in Jesus, and having a big, glorious Jesus. No apologies necessary for saying “Jesus.” But then one time an older member of our congregation asked why I didn’t say “Christ” more often. I had never really thought about it before. I guess “Jesus” just packs a little more punch, has a little more edge, sounds a little fresher than Christ or Lord or the Son of God.
Again, there’s nothing wrong with referencing “Jesus.” The gospels do it a whole bunch. But we must not forget–and we must help our younger listeners remember–that we are not merely followers of a man named Jesus. We worship the Son of God, the Lord Jesus Christ. We are disciples of this man Jesus, but this man is also our Savior and God. He is, after all, more than a carpenter.
Following Jesus is a movement. Believing in Christ is a faith. Let’s make sure we don’t have the first sentence without the second.
Don’t ditch the name that marks us out as his. Ain’t no shame in being called a Christian.
thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/kevindeyoung/
What ever happened to being called a Christian? Did I miss the ecumenical council that decreed the phrase “Christ follower” or “Jesus-disciple” be used for churchgoers under the age of 40? Of course, there’s nothing wrong with calling yourself a “Christ follower” or a “Jesus-disciple.” You can be a part of “Team Jesus” or walk in the “way of Rabbi Yeshua” if that floats your boat. There are plenty of justifiable phrases to go around.
Provided we don’t pick our phrases in order to avoid necessary unpleasantries.
I understand that “Christian” may feel stale, and that it carries baggage with some people. But the label is biblical (Acts 11:26). And the baggage is sometimes unavoidable. If you want to be a “follower of Jesus” instead of a “Christian” because the former implies only ethical emulation, while the latter suggests doctrinal and institutional commitment, then you need to check your motives not the baggage. Again, I don’t have a problem using “disciple of Jesus” to spice things up a bit. A phrase like that may even be prudent in extreme situations of persecution. But if we in North America are using it just to be trendy, or to gut Christianity of its theological center, or to simply avoid being one of those guys, we should really take a deep breath and learn to live with a term that’s been around since first century Antioch.
And while I’m at it, we should also be careful that we don’t make everything about “Jesus.” (Wait a second, did he just say that?!) Let me explain. I love Jesus. I love to pray to Jesus. I love to say the name “Jesus” in my sermons, a lot. I talk about following Jesus, worshiping Jesus, believing in Jesus, and having a big, glorious Jesus. No apologies necessary for saying “Jesus.” But then one time an older member of our congregation asked why I didn’t say “Christ” more often. I had never really thought about it before. I guess “Jesus” just packs a little more punch, has a little more edge, sounds a little fresher than Christ or Lord or the Son of God.
Again, there’s nothing wrong with referencing “Jesus.” The gospels do it a whole bunch. But we must not forget–and we must help our younger listeners remember–that we are not merely followers of a man named Jesus. We worship the Son of God, the Lord Jesus Christ. We are disciples of this man Jesus, but this man is also our Savior and God. He is, after all, more than a carpenter.
Following Jesus is a movement. Believing in Christ is a faith. Let’s make sure we don’t have the first sentence without the second.
Don’t ditch the name that marks us out as his. Ain’t no shame in being called a Christian.
thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/kevindeyoung/
Friday, January 29, 2010
God Pursuing Us
Henry Ward Beecher once said that he found God when he realized that his mother would move heaven and earth to rescue him from trouble even if that trouble was of his own making. God can do no less than a holy mother. The truth is, we may want to shut God out of our lives, but he can't shut himself out of them, can't be content to be left out and just leave it at that. Robed in flesh, God the Son weeps over a city that is ruining itself by rejecting him (Luke 19:41-45). If any of us has tried in vain to bring home a sinning child or husband or wife, one we loved more than life itself, we know why God's chest was heaving and great sobs were bursting from him. He can't stay away from us.
Jim McGuiggan, Celebrating the Wrath of God: Reflections on the Agony and Ecstasy of His Relentless Love.
Jim McGuiggan, Celebrating the Wrath of God: Reflections on the Agony and Ecstasy of His Relentless Love.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Unction by Tullian Tchividjian
I’m a die-hard believer in unction. Unction is an old fashioned word which describes an effusion of power from the Holy Spirit as one preaches. It is the one thing preachers need above everything else. It is the accompanying power of the Spirit. This is what Charles Spurgeon dubbed “the sacred annointing.” It is power from on high.
In his book on the preaching of Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, The Sacred Annointing, Tony Sargent describes unction well. He writes:
'[Unction] is the afflatus of the Spirit resting on the speaker. It is the preacher gliding on eagles’ wings, soaring high, swooping low, carrying and being carried along by a dynamic other than his own. His consciousness of what is happening is not obliterated. He is not in a trance. He is being worked on but is aware that he is still working. He is being spoken through but he knows he is still speaking. The words are his but the facility with which they come compels him to realise that the source is beyond himself. The man is overwhelmed. He is on fire.
Oh how my heart burns for this sacred annointing, this unction! I hope and pray that preachers all over the world would spend much of their sermon preparation time begging God for this power on high. For, it is preachers who are borne along by the Holy Spirit that are used to effect a deep and sobering awareness of God and his truth that transforms.'
In his book Lloyd-Jones: Messenger of Grace, Iain Murray writes:
'Preaching under the annointing of the Holy Spirit is preaching which brings with it a consciousness of God. It produces an impression upon the hearer that is altogether stronger than anything belonging to the circumstances of the occasion. Visible things fall into the background; the surroundings, the fellow worshippers, even the speaker himself, all become secondary to an awareness of God himself. Instead of witnessing a public gathering, the hearer receives the conviction that he is being addressed personally, and with an authority greater than that of a human messenger.'
Given the fact that the ultimate factor in the church’s engagement with society is the church’s engagement with God, my earnest prayer is that, for the sake of the world, more preachers would come to know and understand what Andrew Bonar meant when he wrote: “It is one thing to bring truth from the Bible, and another to bring it from God himself through the Bible.”
Please pray, dear friends, that God would annoint my mind and mouth on Sunday as I preach so that God’s people would hear from God. Please pray that God’s Spirit would so inhabit my words that everyone would leave worship tomorrow being able to say, “God was surely in that place.”
I can’t manufacture unction regardless of how well crafted my sermon is and how well prepared I may be. The biggest work must come from God.
So, come thou fount of every blessing and do for your people what I cannot. Amen.
On Earth as it is in Heaven, January 15th, 2010
In his book on the preaching of Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, The Sacred Annointing, Tony Sargent describes unction well. He writes:
'[Unction] is the afflatus of the Spirit resting on the speaker. It is the preacher gliding on eagles’ wings, soaring high, swooping low, carrying and being carried along by a dynamic other than his own. His consciousness of what is happening is not obliterated. He is not in a trance. He is being worked on but is aware that he is still working. He is being spoken through but he knows he is still speaking. The words are his but the facility with which they come compels him to realise that the source is beyond himself. The man is overwhelmed. He is on fire.
Oh how my heart burns for this sacred annointing, this unction! I hope and pray that preachers all over the world would spend much of their sermon preparation time begging God for this power on high. For, it is preachers who are borne along by the Holy Spirit that are used to effect a deep and sobering awareness of God and his truth that transforms.'
In his book Lloyd-Jones: Messenger of Grace, Iain Murray writes:
'Preaching under the annointing of the Holy Spirit is preaching which brings with it a consciousness of God. It produces an impression upon the hearer that is altogether stronger than anything belonging to the circumstances of the occasion. Visible things fall into the background; the surroundings, the fellow worshippers, even the speaker himself, all become secondary to an awareness of God himself. Instead of witnessing a public gathering, the hearer receives the conviction that he is being addressed personally, and with an authority greater than that of a human messenger.'
Given the fact that the ultimate factor in the church’s engagement with society is the church’s engagement with God, my earnest prayer is that, for the sake of the world, more preachers would come to know and understand what Andrew Bonar meant when he wrote: “It is one thing to bring truth from the Bible, and another to bring it from God himself through the Bible.”
Please pray, dear friends, that God would annoint my mind and mouth on Sunday as I preach so that God’s people would hear from God. Please pray that God’s Spirit would so inhabit my words that everyone would leave worship tomorrow being able to say, “God was surely in that place.”
I can’t manufacture unction regardless of how well crafted my sermon is and how well prepared I may be. The biggest work must come from God.
So, come thou fount of every blessing and do for your people what I cannot. Amen.
On Earth as it is in Heaven, January 15th, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Piper on Natural Disasters
The point of every deadly calamity is this: Repent. Let our hearts be broken that God means so little to us. Grieve that he is a whipping boy to be blamed for pain, but not praised for pleasure. Lament that he makes headlines only when man mocks his power, but no headlines for ten thousand days of wrath withheld. Let us rend our hearts that we love life more than we love Jesus Christ. Let us cast ourselves on the mercy of our Maker. He offers it through the death and resurrection of his Son."
— John Piper after the 2004 Indonesian tsunami
— John Piper after the 2004 Indonesian tsunami
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Bad Luck or Divine Plan?
But the unpredictable exists because God created it. It suits his purposes that randomness exists; he wants it that way and insists that its reality be laid at his feet. He tells Job that he’s the one who sends the rain on desolate land where no people dwell (Job 38:25-27). What a waste of water, we might think. But God chose to do it, whether we think it wise or not, and it was God doing it even though we would speak of it as unpredictable and random.
Jim McGuiggan, Celebrating the Wrath of God: Reflections on the Agony and Ecstasy of His Relentless Love
Jim McGuiggan, Celebrating the Wrath of God: Reflections on the Agony and Ecstasy of His Relentless Love
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