Sunday, July 22, 2012

Musings on 2 Peter (1:3-4)

3-4: His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence, by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire.

These are some of the most amazing words in all of Scripture. Here is found the Gospel, the promise of the Gospel, the hope of the Gospel, and the glory of the Gospel all in one sentence. In seasons of doubt, these words are like warm water on cold hands, warm words to thaw shivering hearts. Indeed, these capsules of truth build us up and remind us that God is God. He is sovereign over all things. But He does not simply sit afar off governing history as a judge, presiding from a distant height, over the cases of men. Rather, He has come down from His chair, and has wrestled with us on our own soil. He has entered into the sphere of our lives and shown Himself not only to be God, but to be our God. He has given us Himself, and is immediately present with us at all times for He gave us both His very own book, and His very own Spirit. This is our God. In Him we live.

By the divine power of God we have been both justified and sanctified: all things that pertain to life and godliness. Both our life and our piety are gifts from the hand of divine power. These are not things we achieve in our own strength. As seen above, the dead man cannot learn to live by reading Grey's Anatomy, even if the book is read to him. And if he cannot learn to live by reading, then he certainly can't learn to live well by reading either. The strength is not in us to do this thing. This is not accomplished by any means we ourselves possess. In our own strength we lie dead. Deader than dead, for we were not simply victims of death, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. We were active servants of death, partaking in its unholy nature. To escape it was neither in our power nor in our desires. But here we see the kindness of our God. We have been pulled up out of the grave. The strongman has been bound and gagged, and sits against the wall waiting for his doom. As he sits he witnesses his own devilish house being plundered, goods not of his making, but only of his marring, being taken away. We were rescued and brought home. We chose death. Our great God chose us for life.

And this life is given to us. Life that can no longer live in filth. And so our piety is given to us as well. One confusion that plagues reformed churches in our day concerns our belief in total depravity. We understand well enough that every aspect of our humanness is touched by the fall, and therefore every aspect of our humanness must be redeemed by the blood of Jesus. The confusion comes when we start believing in continuing depravity. By His stripes we are healed. Our sins are forgiven, the old man has been put to death, and our inability to obey has been taken away. Furthermore an active desire to obey has been given to us. But we Calvinists sometimes like to pick at scabs. We sit in the corner, head buried in our chest, wanting so much to be like the publican and not the priest, we forget that he stood up, and walked home justified. Yes, you have sinned. Yes, you continue to sin. But it is forgiven. It is washed. Your God would have you know peace and joy. There is not one unforgiven sin you will commit. So rest, dear sinner. Allow the scabs to heal. The more you pick, the more you will scar.

We need the divine power to wash over us like a wave, breaking on the shores of our stubborn hearts. He has given to us everything, and everything we need for life and godliness has been given to us. We return to knowledge. Through the knowledge of Him who called us we were given these things. Through the gift of hearing His voice we were given even more. This knowledge we did not stumble upon, as one walking in the forest at night might trip over a fallen tree. Rather, in this word picture, we are the fallen tree, uprooted and dead. Christ came walking through the dark night of our soul and sang words of life into our limbs. What was the theme of His song? Glory and excellence. This is what we are called to. But praise our God and Father that He does not leave us to find this glory alone. We are not blindfolded, spun three times in a circle, and pointed in a line just left of the donkey. We are called to enter into His very own life and piety, His glory and His excellence. This is not a location we can find. It is destination He is bringing us to.

But Peter speaks in the past tense. So this must mean that even though we don't see glory and excellence with our fallen eyes, indeed, all we see is our own sin, it must remain true. And surely this is the beauty of the Gospel. The precious and very great promises that have been made to us are solid and can be taken to the bank. By means of these promises we partake in the divine nature of our God. Even though we remain in fallen flesh, and physically the check has yet to clear, simply possessing the promissory note propels us into the nature of God. This does not mean we become gods ourselves, nor does it mean that the Creator/Creature distinction somehow evaporates. We remain finite, and God infinite. But what it does mean is that we, by grace through faith, learn to have the same posture as God. How does He see this world? How does He view sin and rebellion? What does He love? How does He love? These questions get to the heart of His glory and His excellence. His posture towards all things is an outworking of who He is. As we are brought into His nature, we are made like Him, and so take on this same attitude toward others. As Paul says, we are to work out what He is working in. It becomes clear then that we cannot remain in our filth, nor can we remain in a perpetual state of contemplation over it. There is too much to be done. Yes, manure stinks. But our Farmer God has deemed it right and good to use the manure we are to fertilize His world. We are to be agents of growth and plenty. Once we were manure. Now we begin to bear fruit. But we cannot expect fruit to appear all at once, nor can we expect the oder of manure to immediately disappear. These things take time. And so the span of 70 years is given to man, and by reason of strength, 80. Our life here and now is the adolescent stage of an apple tree. We are growing toward something full and lovely. We are pruned and clipped and cut back. But in this training time we find purpose and meaning. The gold has no ground to resent the fire of the forge, nor the apple the gardener's knife. Rather than resent it, we rejoice in it, for we see with eyes of faith the life it brings us to.

We have escaped, we have been rescued from the decay that is in this world by means of lust. Again, we still sin. But no longer are we held captive, bound in chains, languishing in that house of corruption. The strongman himself was bound, past tense. His house plundered, past tense. We, the goods of the strongman, were rescued, past tense. Now, present tense, we are free. So what does this mean for us here and now? What the knowledge of Him whose glory and excellence we are being brought into gives us is the freedom to look past the sin in our lives and see the goodness and kindness of our God. It gives us the eyes to see our God using us as a farmer uses a scythe. It widens our perspective and gives us both assurance in our future glory, and confidence in our purpose here in this wide field, full of ripe, unharvested wheat.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Musings on 2 Peter (1:2)


2: May grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.

As one who confesses that Jesus is Lord and believes that God raised Him from the dead, Peter sends you grace and peace. But it is grace and peace that is rooted in something firm and specific. In the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord, may grace and peace be multiplied to you. Peter is asking that God would grant us wisdom. "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight" (Proverbs 9:10). But the true import of these words has been sorely forgotten. These terms have been hijacked and are currently in the hands of the kings from Psalm 2, who desire to cast off their cords and free themselves from the hand of the Anointed One. But they will not succeed. And we must be proactive in reclaiming the words which belong to us.

Knowledge is much praised in our day. It has itself become a savior in our secularist culture. Ignorance has been named the great demon of our age, and therefore knowledge is the only answer. Knowledge is power, we read on many bumpers across our land. Our schools are founded on the principle that kids who know more will make better choices. If they know about STD's they wont want to mess around. If they know about drugs, they wont want to take a hit. If they know the consequence, they will not step out of line. And when kids do, which they do, ignorance is the scapegoat. It makes sense, given a godless, evolutionary mindset. If there is no God, then we are all by ourselves, and must do all we can to better our position. The problem is that real life does not give this theory any credence. The more we know of what we shouldn't do, the more we want to do it. It is human nature. Every mother's son, coming out of the womb, wants what he wants without respect to consequences. True, we have become shrewd with age and have figured out ways to disguise the action, so that the consequence is legal, or turns to our favor. For the short run at least. But this way of thinking leads to death. Ignorance is not the problem. Defiance of a Holy God is. The Ancients had a word for this attitude of the heart: sin, they called it. And if a heart that is predisposed to hate a holy God is the problem, no amount of knowledge will fix it. If a man is dead, no amount of reading Grey's Anatomy to him will bring him to life. "But see, sir? All you have to do is inhale air into your lungs. We call that breathing. Let's try it on three..." Knowledge by itself will not fix a single soul. We need something far more radical than that.

Enter Jesus stage right. In Jesus the dead man not only breathes, but picks up his mat and goes home, glorifying God. In Jesus death has been defeated. In Jesus life has come. But again we are tempted to attribute salvation to a mere knowledge that 'In Jesus life has come.' We say we know about Jesus and therefore will be saved. If knowledge plays any part in our salvation its from the other end. Does Jesus know you? "Many in that day will say, 'Lord, Lord,' but I will say to them, 'Depart from me, for I never knew you.'" Therefore it is not our knowledge but His that counts. Does Jesus know you? As we saw earlier, if you confess with your mouth Jesus is Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. If you confess and believe, then, dear Christian, Jesus knows you. End of story. Our salvation is not based on how much we know Him. Because He is infinite and we are not, we cannot hope to know Him fully. Therefore rest.

But there is a ditch on both sides of the road, they say. If we come to the realization that knowledge of God does not in itself produce salvation, we are tempted to dismiss knowledge all together. "I believe in Jesus, what more do I need to know?" We grow lazy and complacent. Because we have no desire to read the Word, to grow in the knowledge of God, we miss the parable about the seeds falling among different soils, and the cares of the world quickly come and pluck the seed up and fly away. "Well, how can I rest now?" you might say. The answer to assurance is simple. An apple tree grows apples, not lemons. Do you confess and believe? Very well. Look for apples. If you are an apple tree, you will bear fruit. Your life will be defined by love, joy, peace, and patience. The Holy Spirit is the master gardner, and He will prune and trim and fertilize you so that you bear fruit abundantly, some thirty, some sixty, some a hundredfold. But if you are growing lemons, if your life is defined by anger, malice, lust, and immorality, then chances are you are not a apple tree. Check the box. You probably have the wrong plant.

Peter shows us the path between the two extremes. In the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord, may grace and peace be multiplied. It is not salvation that is multiplied, but rather the tools for living a saved life. A man may be declared a farmer, but if he is not given a shovel or hoe, tractor or combine, then precious small will be his farm. We may be saved, but if the Spirit does not multiply within us grace and peace, then precious small will be our hope. How does the Spirit do this then? Through knowledge. The more we know, the more we rest. Say there is a big math test coming up. If we know the formulas backwards and forwards, then we will not stress about the test. But if we refuse to study, and commit the formulas to memory, then we will freak out and worry. We are a math student either way. The amount of knowledge a student has does not affect that. What knowledge does do is produce peace.

Therefore, may grace and peace be multiplied to you, in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord. Strive to know more of God and of Jesus your Lord. Read the Word. Study it. Immerse yourself in the poetry, in the story, in the letter, in the history. Know the Gospel backwards and forwards. Then when life sends you pop quizzes, you will have peace.




Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Musings on 2 Peter (1:1)

Chapter One
1: Simeon Peter, a servant and apostle of Jesus Christ, To those who have obtained a faith of equal standing with ours by the righteousness of our God and Savior Jesus Christ...

Peter has written another letter. Here he styles himself not only an apostle, but also a servant, or slave. At first the two words might seem redundant. An apostle is someone that is sent out, and implies obedience to a sender, and therefore further implies a servant. But I think that Peter wants to communicate his own sense of perspective here. Yes I am an apostle, he says. But more than that I am a servant, a slave, in no way more special than you, dear reader. He emphasizes this point in the next sentence: You have obtained a faith of equal value to mine, dear reader, a faith equally precious to the faith of the apostles. Peter is concerned with those who would attribute to him and the other apostles more honor than their standing deserves. We do honor the apostles. In a similar vein we honor our own elders and teachers. But not in such a way that regards them as super-Christians, with a super-faith, unattainable by us Christians of a "lower order". To think this way falls into two errors simultaneously. First, it mistakingly assumes that God gives different qualities of faith to different people. A stronger faith He gives to one, and a weaker, more tenuous faith He gives to another. This is foolishness. There is one common faith, one common Lord, and one common baptism, Paul tells us in Ephesians. This does not mean there aren't stronger and weaker Christians. There are. God meets us all where we are, and some have heavier burdens than others. But the faith itself is the same faith as that of the apostles, and of every saint through the courses of time. Secondly, this assumption of different faiths for different people would seem to indicate that the faith-holder has done something in his own strength to merit a larger portion of faith, as if faith were a prize pie, and some got a bigger piece because they came in first place. This too is foolishness. Faith is binary. Faith is an on/off switch. Either you believe Jesus, or you don't. Either you love God or you don't. Do you love Jesus? Then you have a faith of equal standing with the apostles, honored though they may be.

Faith is a gift. Faith is all of grace. And this is why it cannot depend on us, in any fashion. It is only by the righteousness of Jesus that any of us can receive faith at all. Every last human being on this earth shares this in common: we are dead in the water of our sin. All of us lie on the bottom. There aren't some super humans floating closer to the surface, more fit in their own strength to receive the grace of God. That is just silly. Dead is dead. When God takes us out of our grave, and gives us new life in the life of Christ, then we are made alive. We have been given new eyes, and a new heart. This is faith. The assurance of things hoped for, and the conviction of things unseen. Do you believe the promises of God to be true with regard to you, based solely on the mercy of the Father, the blood of Jesus, and the working power of the Spirit? Then this letter is for you.