I will not lie. I had a difficult time reading this book. I could only read a little bit at a time. The errors came so fast and so furious it was a discouraging read. There are many smaller points that I could argue with here, but instead, I want to focus on just two things: his theological foundation, and his practical application.
Let me first reproduce his thesis in full:
Jesus Christ said of Himself, "The Son can do nothing." In the Greek language that word
nothing has a unique meaning - it means NOTHING, just like it does in English! He had NO
supernatural capabilities whatsoever! While He is 100 percent God, He chose to live with the
same limitations that man would face once He was redeemed. He made that point over and
over again. Jesus became the model for all who would embrace the invitation to invade the
impossible in His name. He performed miracles, wonders, and signs, as a man in right
relationship to God...not as God. If He performed miracles because He was God, then they
would be unattainable for us. But if He did them as a man, I am responsible to pursue His
lifestyle. Recapturing this simple truth changes everything...and makes possible a full
restoration of the ministry of Jesus in His Church. (29, emphasis original)
The verse he quotes in part at the beginning of the paragraph is John 5:19: “So Jesus said to them, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise.’”
In this verse Jesus is saying almost the exact opposite of what Johnson wishes He was saying. It is simply not true that the Son can do nothing. Rather, Jesus is telling us that He can do nothing but obey the Father. More than this, Jesus is only doing what He sees God the Father do. In other words, the Son is doing what the Father does, and He can because He “and the Father are one,” (John 10:30). He can do what the Father does precisely because He is God. The writer to the Hebrews says:
How shall we escape if we neglect such a great salvation? It was declared at first by the Lord,
and it was attested to us by those who heard, while God also bore witness by signs and wonders
and various miracles and by gifts of the Holy Spirit distributed according to his will. (Hebrews
2:3-4)
Notice the subjects of these sentences. First, the Lord declares. Second, the apostles attest that these things are true. Third, God performed miracles, wonders, and signs. Fourth, the Holy Spirit distributes gifts. That third point again: God performed miracles, wonders, and signs. This most unambiguously refers to Jesus. If the author of the letter to the Hebrews can be trusted, Jesus performed miracles, wonders, and signs, not as a man in right relationship to God...but as God Himself.
On the surface, this is simply a case of Johnson making the text say what he wants to teach. Many teachers have done this throughout the life of the Church. So why make such a fuss now? Because, below the surface lies a much more dangerous notion. In an attempt to justify the clearly defined theology of this book, Johnson has inadvertently destroyed any basis for a sinner's hope of redemption. If Johnson is correct in saying that Jesus performed His miracles not as God, but as a simple man, what other ministries did He perform not as God, but as a simple man? The reason why this is a serious matter is this: If Jesus was not acting as God on the cross, “but as a man in right relationship to God,” then our sins are not paid for and we have no legal right to call on the name of God at all, let alone stand in His presence. For us to be redeemed, Jesus must have acted as both Man and God on the cross. Only Man could represent mankind. Only God could sufficiently atone for all of mankind’s sins. Therefore, Jesus performed miracles, wonders, signs because He was God.
Bad theology aside, the real problem with this book is the practicality of Johnson’s teaching. In truth, 'Signs and Wonders' theology takes so much more away from the Gospel than it brings. There is danger in this theology, to be sure. But that is not what maddened me when I read this book. The real danger comes when believers hear the words of this book and follow without critically thinking through the consequences. Johnson himself sees the danger in this. "While I have no time for critics, I do welcome the 'wounds of a friend,'" (116). In other words, if you disagree with Johnson, he will not listen to your critiques. On the other hand if you are a friend, and fellow co-patriate of his ministry, he will gladly listen to your suggestions. Furthermore, he encourages his readership to "Be childlike and read the works of those who have succeeded in the healing ministry. Stay away from the books and tapes of those who say it shouldn't or can't be done. If the author doesn't walk in power, don't listen, no matter how proficient they may be in another field," (115). So if someone, like myself, rebukes Johnson's teaching, you are to simply ignore me, and read only those from inside the camp. This is Cult Speech 101.
But please do not walk away. Understand the consequences of Bill Johnson's teaching in this book.
Guilt - The believers who follow the advice in this book will open themselves up to tremendous guilt. For Johnson, the believer who does not experience the life he describes is either too weak of faith to accomplish the will of God, or is disobeying in some significant way. Consider this: "Light is so superior to darkness that its triumph is immediate," (73). While this statement sounds true, it is misleading. God's own light certainly triumphs over darkness, but it is not immediate. If it were we would all be in glory as of the morning of the resurrection. But Johnson is convinced that if a certain present darkness persists, you are not demonstrating sufficient light. If a certain illness lingers, you are not praying hard enough, or in the right way. If someone is crippled, or disabled, your faith to heal them has failed significantly. This leads to substantial feelings of guilt.
But this is not true. 1 Peter 4:12-13 Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes
upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar
as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is
revealed.
Discontentment - Within the framework of Johnson's theology, the believer should not be content to submit to the effects of the fall. "When His rule collides with disease, people are healed. When it runs into the demonized, they are set free. The Kingdom message's nature provides salvation for the whole man - spirit, soul, and body," (62). If you suffer from longterm illness, you will be tempted to think that you have fallen out of the kingdom of God, or at least out of favor with God. According to Johnson, it is up to you to grab hold of that power and claim it for your own. When that fails, discontentment sets in.
But this is not true. 2 Corinthians 12:7-10 So to keep me from becoming conceited because of
the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of
Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord
about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my
power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my
weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am
content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak,
then I am strong.
Despair - In Johnson's mind, the sufferings of this world are unnatural, and outside of God's will. "If I believe that God allows sickness in order to build character, I'll not have confidence praying in most situations where healing is needed. But if I believe that sickness is to the body what sin is to the soul, then no disease will intimidate me. Faith is much more free to develop when we truly see the heart of God as good," (45). If the heart of God is good, then why am I sick? Was He not powerful enough to stop it in the first place? If He was, but I remain ill, then how is His heart good? If, on the other hand, He was not powerful enough to stop it, then I believe in a God who can be stymied by the common cold. I am suddenly lost in despair.
But this is not true. Romans 5:3-5 More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that
suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces
hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts
through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.
By equating sickness and sin, Johnson effectively places all human illness and disease outside of God's will. If this is so, what peace do I have when the illness does not go away through prayer? What hope do I have if my wife never gets pregnant? Where is our security in a world where God has no control over the weather, viruses, human development in the womb, or any cause, besides direct sin, that you could point to for our suffering? If God is not in control of one single molecule of this world, He is no longer God, for something exists outside of Him.
But Christian, say God is in control of my sickness. Say He has given me my seasons of illness or disappointment, my seasons of hardship and trial. Let us suppose for a minute that He indeed has given me a "sickness in order to build character." Let us say that He gives these seasons to build my faith. Let us say that He puts me in the fire of the forge to purify my faith, to make me shine like gold. Let us say this. Suddenly all my pain, all my suffering, all my griefs and tears have a meaning infinitely deep. And truly, this is so. The life of Jesus is being built up in me: both His triumph over death, and His patience in the pain.
Much more could be said in refuting Johnson’s theology. But that is not my goal here. The matrix of thought Johnson creates with his insistence on a modern life of 'signs and wonders' serves only to engender fear and despair. Fear that a lack of miraculous healing in my life means a lack of the Holy Spirit. Despair that my wholeness, both physical and spiritual, rests entirely in my own hands. Furthermore, the only foundation of all my hope, the fact that Jesus acted as God on the cross, and is now the God of my pain, disintegrates in the framework of Johnson’s thesis. Is it not better to swallow my pride and allow God to be God of all things, even my weakness? Yes it is. It must be. For only if God rules all things do I have the freedom to embrace the sufferings this world brings, and still know joy.
Friday, February 8, 2013
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Membership
I want to briefly sketch a picture-argument for the public installation service of new Church members. "Why, make it public? Why not just list the names in the bulletin?" you might ask, and that's a very valid question. There is no direct command to do so in the Bible. And there isn't really any pressing need to do so other than, perhaps, what I take to be a minor failure on the part of our culture. But I do think that a public service would make a powerful statement, impressing on our hearts and minds the importance of membership life in the midst of a fallen world.
First, quickly, what is it to be a member? Paul loves to use body parts as examples for God's idea of membership. I'm an arm, you're a leg, that other guy is an eye. All well and good. But the reason Paul does this is to bring out some rather startling implications. First, the head can't say to the foot, "I am better than you." The head is built differently than the foot and for a different purpose. So it's nonsense for a head to make such a value judgement. Second, the head can't tell the foot, "Not only am I better than you, I have no need of you." This betrays a gross misunderstanding of the utter dependance the head has on the foot. The head can make all the plans he wants, but won't get very far without the foot. Paul likes this metaphor because it shows instantly how interconnected we are, and therefore just how important our membership is to both our relationship to God and to one another.
If our membership to one another is this real, and we are really this interconnected, then the local Church can only be effective to the degree that its people both understand and seek to live this out. Paul says in Romans 12:4-6a: For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them... If I am called to be a member of a Church (and I am) then I am also called to be, as a member, united to the other people in the building. Furthermore, I am called to throw in my gifting to serve the rest of the body. Paul says again in Philippians 2 that we are to put the needs of others before our own. This means that the other folk with whom I worship are more important than myself, their needs more pressing than my own.
Ok, that said, what's all this about public installation? When an individual or family comes and joins a local Church, they are doing three things. First they are submitting themselves to God (James 4:7). They are acting in obedience to Him who desires for us to live in community, and to partake in the nature of His Triune Life (Hebrews 10:25; 2 Peter 1:3-4). Secondly, they are putting themselves under the authority of the elders (Hebrews 13:17). As God's appointed leadership team, they are responsible for the souls of their flock. Our job as members is to make their rule a joy by being submissive and cheerful in the process. The third thing new members are doing by joining a local Church is submitting to one another (Ephesians 5:17-21; Philippians 2:3-4). We are called to cast ourselves fully into the whole, to be used by God in whatever way He deems appropriate, given our talents and personalities. When the individual or family comes forward for membership, they are adding their hearty Amen! to what Paul lays out for us.
So, what would the installation service look like? It would be a simple question-and-answer dialogue between the Pastor and the new members, spoken in front of the congregation. Something like this:
Pastor: Have you, [Newbies], submitted yourselves to the Love of the Father, the Lordship of the Son, and the sanctifying work of the Spirit, trusting in Him alone for your salvation?
[Newbies]: We have
P: Do you willingly and without compulsion place yourself under the authority of the elders of this Church, recognizing that they are the fallible shepherds God Himself would have you submit to, not blindly, but in love and good hope?
[N]: We do
P: Furthermore do you commit yourselves to this congregation, to uphold the work of this Church as a whole, and to participate in its ministry by means of the talents and personalities our Maker has given you?
[N]: We do
P: Congregation of [name of Church], I turn to you and ask, do you willingly embrace [Newbies], and commit to love them by means of your giftings, putting their needs before your own, considering them more important than yourselves? If so, please respond by saying Amen.
Cong: AMEN!
This publicly enacted dialogue is powerful. It is a 'ritual' signifying something real: the weighty glory of membership in the body of Christ. And it speaks the story of Jesus: one Man sacrificing everything for me. It is the story we are supposed to live out toward one another. Furthermore, this drama lifts me outside of myself. It puts me in the context of something bigger, of which I am just a small part. It shows me the cathedral, and points to the individual stone that I am, some way up the south wall. I may be an integral part, but I rest on the shoulders of thousands of other stones, and millions more will come after I am gone.
The minor failure in our culture I mentioned at the beginning is our tendency to place the individual above the whole. We are constantly told to "Be your own person!" It's easy to swing the other direction, however, and find comfort in sameness. As long as we are part of the herd, no one will notice us, or require anything of us. But our God is Triune. He is both Individual and Community. And He desires us to partake in this Triune nature. In fact, by dwelling one with another and echoing this Divine relationship, we show the world what this balance looks like. When the local body publicly welcomes and affirms one another, it strongly Amen's the reality of our membership in Christ, and powerfully reflects the nature and love of the Triune God.
First, quickly, what is it to be a member? Paul loves to use body parts as examples for God's idea of membership. I'm an arm, you're a leg, that other guy is an eye. All well and good. But the reason Paul does this is to bring out some rather startling implications. First, the head can't say to the foot, "I am better than you." The head is built differently than the foot and for a different purpose. So it's nonsense for a head to make such a value judgement. Second, the head can't tell the foot, "Not only am I better than you, I have no need of you." This betrays a gross misunderstanding of the utter dependance the head has on the foot. The head can make all the plans he wants, but won't get very far without the foot. Paul likes this metaphor because it shows instantly how interconnected we are, and therefore just how important our membership is to both our relationship to God and to one another.
If our membership to one another is this real, and we are really this interconnected, then the local Church can only be effective to the degree that its people both understand and seek to live this out. Paul says in Romans 12:4-6a: For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them... If I am called to be a member of a Church (and I am) then I am also called to be, as a member, united to the other people in the building. Furthermore, I am called to throw in my gifting to serve the rest of the body. Paul says again in Philippians 2 that we are to put the needs of others before our own. This means that the other folk with whom I worship are more important than myself, their needs more pressing than my own.
Ok, that said, what's all this about public installation? When an individual or family comes and joins a local Church, they are doing three things. First they are submitting themselves to God (James 4:7). They are acting in obedience to Him who desires for us to live in community, and to partake in the nature of His Triune Life (Hebrews 10:25; 2 Peter 1:3-4). Secondly, they are putting themselves under the authority of the elders (Hebrews 13:17). As God's appointed leadership team, they are responsible for the souls of their flock. Our job as members is to make their rule a joy by being submissive and cheerful in the process. The third thing new members are doing by joining a local Church is submitting to one another (Ephesians 5:17-21; Philippians 2:3-4). We are called to cast ourselves fully into the whole, to be used by God in whatever way He deems appropriate, given our talents and personalities. When the individual or family comes forward for membership, they are adding their hearty Amen! to what Paul lays out for us.
So, what would the installation service look like? It would be a simple question-and-answer dialogue between the Pastor and the new members, spoken in front of the congregation. Something like this:
Pastor: Have you, [Newbies], submitted yourselves to the Love of the Father, the Lordship of the Son, and the sanctifying work of the Spirit, trusting in Him alone for your salvation?
[Newbies]: We have
P: Do you willingly and without compulsion place yourself under the authority of the elders of this Church, recognizing that they are the fallible shepherds God Himself would have you submit to, not blindly, but in love and good hope?
[N]: We do
P: Furthermore do you commit yourselves to this congregation, to uphold the work of this Church as a whole, and to participate in its ministry by means of the talents and personalities our Maker has given you?
[N]: We do
P: Congregation of [name of Church], I turn to you and ask, do you willingly embrace [Newbies], and commit to love them by means of your giftings, putting their needs before your own, considering them more important than yourselves? If so, please respond by saying Amen.
Cong: AMEN!
This publicly enacted dialogue is powerful. It is a 'ritual' signifying something real: the weighty glory of membership in the body of Christ. And it speaks the story of Jesus: one Man sacrificing everything for me. It is the story we are supposed to live out toward one another. Furthermore, this drama lifts me outside of myself. It puts me in the context of something bigger, of which I am just a small part. It shows me the cathedral, and points to the individual stone that I am, some way up the south wall. I may be an integral part, but I rest on the shoulders of thousands of other stones, and millions more will come after I am gone.
The minor failure in our culture I mentioned at the beginning is our tendency to place the individual above the whole. We are constantly told to "Be your own person!" It's easy to swing the other direction, however, and find comfort in sameness. As long as we are part of the herd, no one will notice us, or require anything of us. But our God is Triune. He is both Individual and Community. And He desires us to partake in this Triune nature. In fact, by dwelling one with another and echoing this Divine relationship, we show the world what this balance looks like. When the local body publicly welcomes and affirms one another, it strongly Amen's the reality of our membership in Christ, and powerfully reflects the nature and love of the Triune God.
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Musings on 1 Peter (5:12-14)
12-14: Peter has written a letter. A letter for a suffering Church. A letter of encouragement and hope. His aim has been to reveal the true grace of God, and to build us up in it. We too are pilgrims dispersed in a land that is not our home. We too know trials and hardships. As with the exiled Jews in Babylon, we are called to seek the welfare of our cities, to set roots down, to live, work and play in the homes and places God has given each of us. Our lives should be full and rich, with traditions of joy and long seasons of laughter. Our lives should always be pointing outward, seeking to engage others with the joy of our salvation. Our lives are no longer our own, and in this we find peace. Peace in every trial, peace in every shadowed valley. Peace because the One to whom our lives do belong is the Author of all things. In Him we rest. In Him we are being transformed, as a community, into a glorious citadel. We are the bricks and living stones that make up the walls, and battlements. At times this hurts. Especially as dirt and straw must be scraped off for the stone to fit. But we are in the hands of the Master mason. And we take comfort knowing that whatever it is He is doing, however long it takes, and however much it may hurt, the final product will be beautiful. This is our peace. This is what all our toasts and odes and stories point to. As a compass points north, so our lives point to beauty. Every aspect of our nature is being transformed into loveliness. Therefore stand firm, knowing the One whose hands you are in.
As Peter sends his final greetings, he sends peace. This should be the make up of all our final words as well. Peace. If God sits on His throne, then we can have peace. Justice is not an obscure maybe. There will be justice. Every wrong will be made right, every hurtful word will be reckoned for, every debt will be paid, every tear will be dried. We believe these things to be true. We show a desperately discouraged and despairing world that these things are indeed true, by our peace. This peace is beyond understanding. This peace guards our hearts and our minds. This peace is woven into the very structure of our home. For our home is found in the Prince of Peace. Our home is Jesus.
As Peter sends his final greetings, he sends peace. This should be the make up of all our final words as well. Peace. If God sits on His throne, then we can have peace. Justice is not an obscure maybe. There will be justice. Every wrong will be made right, every hurtful word will be reckoned for, every debt will be paid, every tear will be dried. We believe these things to be true. We show a desperately discouraged and despairing world that these things are indeed true, by our peace. This peace is beyond understanding. This peace guards our hearts and our minds. This peace is woven into the very structure of our home. For our home is found in the Prince of Peace. Our home is Jesus.
Musings on 1 Peter (5:10-11)
10-11: So if God is loving, why do we suffer? Why isn't our life a can of peaches? Hopefully the asking of the question puts things into perspective. The first answer is, of course, whoever said that's what life was supposed to be? Where is it written that everyday will be chocolate milk and ice cream? It seems to me that as fallen creatures living in a fallen world with fallen bodies surrounded by fallen sinners, we are bound to have our fur rubbed the wrong way sooner or later. A friend once said, its not a question of if you will suffer, but when and how much. Strife and friction lie at the very heart of what it means to be human. Lets back up. We were created perfect in a perfect Garden, given everything we could possibly need. God walked with us in the cool of the day. And in that very real utopia, we decided that it wasn't enough. We needed to have some say over what we did or did not do. We needed some autonomy. And so we threw away the perfect gift of life that was given us. The result has been pain. Our original duty was to be fruitful. To grow. Men tilling the ground, and women tilling their children. Now, all fruitfulness would be fraught with pain. Thorns and screams. Pain and frustration are the consequences of sin. One can't acknowledge the one, and be indignant at the other. It doesn't follow. And so if we are honest with ourselves, and if we take the fall seriously, we must acknowledge that suffering is a reality that is not to be wondered at.
When we sinned, we took the image of God, and we covered it with tar and pitch, rolled it in the dirt, and dusted it with fine bits of gravel. Then we mashed it all up so that the tar and dirt was evenly spread throughout the whole lump. So now, ever since the fall, God, whose kindness and mercy truly are everlasting, has set His mind on plucking out every bit of dirt. Its as if He made a perfectly clean lump of clay, and that lump decided to jump off the table and roll in the filth. Now, after picking the lump back up, He washes it, and proceeds with sharp tweezers to remove every grain of filth. Does the lump of clay really have anything to complain about? And yet that is exactly what we do. Stop it! we scream. Ouch, too deep! we whine. And still the Maker, in His kind patience continues to remove the dirt.
How kind is our God! How patient are the ways of the Almighty! He who sits enthroned in the Heavens, He gave the world to us His children, and we spat it back in His face. We, tiny specs of nothing, in the same breath defy the will of our Maker and demand our own wellbeing. Who are we? Who do we think we are? And how great is our God to smile at us and pour Himself out on the cross for us. To say to us, "Yes, within its first hours my perfect world has seen great evil. But I will make sure that I bear the brunt of it. I will take the ultimate consequence upon My own back, so that you, My children, may see My glory, and share in it with Me. Rejoice My people, therefore. You have acted foolishly. But come. Be undone by My grace."
Jesus is the answer. Jesus on the cross is the answer to every pain and every sorrow. Jesus on the cross not only bore our sins, but our griefs as well. He took upon Himself the worst of the pain so that everything we experience would be for our growth and not our destruction. This is our hope. Our suffering is the fire stoked to such a heat, that dross cannot help but rise and be scraped. And so we see that our God has turned even our punishment into grace, using the consequence of sin to sponge the sin away. It hurts, just as picking the dirt out of a fresh scrape on the knee hurts. But just as the knee heals, so do we.
Boot camp, I'm sure, is a horrible place, where horrible things happen. But they happen in a controlled space under close supervision with the purpose of training men for war, a horrific place where horrific things happen. The pain of boot camp pays off when the instincts that have been drilled into the brain, show themselves in the heat of battle, and lives are saved. Our 80 years on this groaning rock is our boot camp. Now the new heavens and the new earth are no war. Much the opposite. But we need to be prepared for it all the same. God is teaching us to trust Him, and to do so instinctively. He is tearing away the layers of self reliance and self worship. He is stripping us bare to where we have no false image of ourselves, where we can see ourselves for what we really are: jars of clay, created to carry glory.
So what is Peter's final encouragement to this crowd of suffering sinners, dispersed throughout the known world, far from their homeland? What words does he have for us, who pitched our tents in the midst of idolatrous living, but are called to be separate from it? What hope is there in this fallen world for fallen sinners such as us, redeemed though we may be? Peter's words are firm. And glorious. After we have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called us to His eternal glory in Christ Jesus, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen and establish us. Let those words sink in.
We will suffer for a little while. Its true. The word 'little' throws it into perspective. Compared to eternity, time on this earth is brief. And while we are here this side of the grave, we will suffer. It is the reason Paul called his suffering, 'momentary, light affliction.' Placed in the scales against the weight of glory that is ours in Christ, our own hardships might as well be as light as air for all the resistance they give. At the same time, suffering is not something we blow off, or simply disregard. We weep with those who weep. Our heart aches, with all of creation, to be free of this fallen shell, to be made whole once again. But only seen in the light of eternity does pain not turn into despair.
The God of all grace. Everything is grace. Everything is gift. All of life is God's present to us, wrapped in shiny paper with a bow. Every moment is given to us from the hand of a Father who has His glory and our good in mind at all times. Therefore every moment is a opportunity for us to say thank you. Every moment sees us either honor God as God, or lifting self up. Murphey's Law is God's humorous training ground for our gratitude. Do we acknowledge in our hearts that God is the one who tangled all those cords, forcing you to choose between being offended that this inanimate object does not recognize the importance of the one trying to untangle it, or laughing at the silliness of this world. The choice is ours. What does it mean to give thanks for all things?
Who has called us to glory in Jesus. We were created for glory. We fell. He sent His Son to bear the brunt of the punishment, so that in Him we might receive the glory after all. This is what we were purposed for, and what we now are repurposed for. It is our end. Paul calls us jars of clay. As clumsy, anything-but-special vessels, we hold the treasure of the gospel. Red wine in paper cups. And yet, the power of the wine is to transform our paper cup into bejeweled chalices, fit for the King.
Will Himself. He does not wait for us to do it. He knows we never could. Not only did He create us in the first place (completely unnecessary), but He proceeds to pay the ransom, after we go and screw things up. It is all a work of God. First to last. Even now as we work out our salvation, we only work out what He Himself is working in. We are the branch bearing the fruit of the Spirit. Not fruit we mustered up in our own strength. He is the Lord. He will surely do it.
Restore. He Himself will restore us. He restores us to the garden. But a garden in which He has sweat blood on our behalf. He does not bring us back to simple innocence. That was never the plan. The garden has become an urban garden, a great green city. We fell at a tree in a garden. Jesus redeemed us at a tree in a garden. He brought us back to Himself, with an eye to graduate us to maturity in Him.
Confirm. He will confirm that what we experience is not without purpose. Nor are we alone in our pain. We have both brothers and sisters, and a God who share in the weight of our woe. Our suffering is not without an end. It is the road we take to reach the garden. He will confirm that the source of our pain is the font of mercy and not simply the cruel hand of fate, or the evil designs of the devil. Our suffering is valid and real. This was confirmed on the cross.
Strengthen. Do not fear, Isaiah tells us. Do not be dismayed. For the Lord is our God. He will strengthen us, He will help us, He will uphold us by His righteous right hand. With God on our side, who can stand against us? This is the source of every encouragement. The gospel is true. The God of all things is our God. Therefore do not fear. Let your heart be strengthened. Let your soul find courage.
Establish. He will set our feet on solid ground. This world will be shaken. And the kingdoms of this world will crumble and fall. But our feet will be secure. For He Himself will establish us in truth. He has set His Anointed on His holy hill. Jesus is established forever as the sovereign ruler of all nations. In Him we are established forever as the heirs to this kingdom. We are like the oak planted by streams of living water. Our roots go deep. Our leaves will not whither. The wind may rise, but we will stand firm. Indeed, the birds of the nations will rest in our branches.
Us. He does this for us. The weak and sinful creatures that rebelled against Him. Us. We are the ones He wishes to make new. We are the ones He has chosen to bless as His people. Not from anything we have done. Not because were in any way special. Simply from the goodness of His heart, it was the pleasure of His will, to do all things for us. At this point Peter cannot help but break into doxology. The faithfulness and the mercy of Lord is from everlasting to everlasting. To Him be dominion and all glory forever and ever. May Jesus forever have the dominion and the glory. May we always be ready to give both in all areas of our lives.
This Gospel is ridiculous. The weak confound the strong. The way up is down. The humble are exalted. Life after death. By all human standards, this does not work. But then again, human standards are broken and have never worked themselves. But the Gospel is what makes life worth living. It is also what makes death worth dying. Daily picking up our cross, we share in the suffering of Jesus that remains for us. We find in this suffering our deepest joy for it unites us to Him. The more acute the hardship, the closer He draws near. The steeper the pain, the sweeter the grace.
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