Walking in the Spirit: a pre-response

by Dan Phillips

I've more or less promised to write specifically on what it (actually) means to walk in/be led by the Spirit. Aaaand I've not done it. Aaaand I'm not doing it today.

But in the meanwhile, I just crammed two or three sermons about the Holy Spirit into one, which includes exposition of the Bible's teaching on His person and work, through both Old and New Testament, including His work in the Christian life.

The sermon and outline are here:

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Gurnall on avoiding the inception of temptation

by Dan Phillips

As I continue to read through Gurnall, this section on an occasion Satan finds a good season to press temptation home was too good, too meaty, too important not to share:

When he hath the presence of some object to enforce his temptation. Thus he takes Eve when she is near the tree, and had it in her eye while he should make the motion, that assaulting two ports at once, it might be the harder for her to hinder the landing of his temptation; and if Eve’s eyes did so soon affect her heart with an inordinate desire, then much more now is it easy for him by the presence of the object to excite and actuate that lust which lies dormant in the heart. As Naomi sent her daughter to lie at Boaz’s feet, knowing well, if he endured her there, there was hope that he might take her into his bed at last: if the Christian can let the object come so near, Satan will promise himself his suit may in time be granted. Therefore it should be our care, if we would not yield to the sin, not to walk by, or sit at the door of the occasion: look not on the beauty with wandering eye, by which thou wouldest not be taken prisoner; parley not with that in thy thoughts, which thou meanest not to let into thy heart; conversation begets affection; some by this have been brought to marry those, whom at first they thought they could not have liked.

[William Gurnall and John Campbell, The Christian in Complete Armour (London: Thomas Tegg, 1845), 47–48.]

This really is being a wonderful read as part of my devotions. Anyone might find it daunting at a glance; it's like 47000 pages long, give or take 40K. But his style is lively, practical, witty, pithy, penetrating, meaty, and always and in all ways richly edifying. I am really enjoying it.

The book is also available in a paperback set.

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Pitting Holiness against Holiness

by The Late Frank Turk

As most of you know, I spent most of my childhood reading comic books in the peace and quiet of my room.  On one of those days, my youngest brother came in looking for some affection from his older brother who had his head in a comic book, and the lad innocently asked, "Frank: Who would win in a fight - the Hulk, or Captain America?"

Now: of course Cap would win in a fight, but that is not the point of this brief blog post.  The point is to look with some bewilderment at the question "Which is better: Justification or Sanctification?"

Some of you right now are recognizing that this post is reworked from another one which can't be found anymore on the internet, but I thought the matter was good enough to bring it back from oblivion.  Why? Because the point of theology is not to pit holinesss against holiness to see which one will win -- or whether one or the other is made less for its lack of victory.

Paul, to avoid that sort of untoward dismay, put it this way to good Timothy: "As I besought thee to abide still at Ephesus, when I went into Macedonia, that thou mightest charge some that they teach no other doctrine, Neither give heed to fables and endless genealogies, which minister questions, rather than godly edifying which is in faith: so do. Now the end of the commandment is charity out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned: From which some having swerved have turned aside unto vain jangling; Desiring to be teachers of the law; understanding neither what they say, nor whereof they affirm."  In Paul's view, it was not a question of whether justification was better than sanctification: rather, it was that justification created sanctification, and those who were teaching and doing otherwise were jangling in vain.

Of course Jesus comes first; of course we are nothing but sinful wretches without him; of course good works do not save us and we have no confidence in them for that.  But for us to say that the good works are therefore not "better" than that which makes them possible seems to forget that we are justified for the sake of doing good works, or as Paul also said, "For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them."

When my brother asked me if a Gamma-Ray mutant could smash the Sentinel of Liberty, he was asking me a question to show how much he knew about something I definitely loved.  He was trying to connect with me over something which should be some common ground -- and at 5 years old, he didn't realize it wasn't the smashing which we both enjoyed most of all.  There's something like that going on here.  I think those of us who are in various stages of reformed intoxication ought to be careful of it. We should be much more worried that we have idolized one kind of holiness in such a way that it has dismantled and buried another kind of holiness which God says is part of the total package.  It leads us to say things like, "my sanctification is more imaged than real," which is an explicit denial of WCF XVI.2 and XVI.3 -- not to mention the letter of James and the last half of the letter to the Galatians.

While we may affectionately ask the question which is "better" in order to establish our bona fides amongst ourselves, the truth is that somehow the thing which ought to be caused is the way we do the things God expects us to do -- and it causes the ordinary grace God has ordained in this world which shows the lost who God really is.

We certainly have an invisible and invincible holiness, but if it doesn't cause a holiness which the world sees and is conflicted over -- that is, one with a beauty it cannot deny, but also it cannot resist hating -- what kind of holiness is that?

This brings to mind another personal anecdote.  When my son was a baby, he was of course the most precious and fantastic child ever born (until his sister was born, at which time I was overcome by the number of perfect children God had given me and my wife) -- but he was also quite perplexed by vocabulary.  For example, every kind of non-vegetable was called "chicken".  And in this state of minimalistic linguistic development, he was frequently out of words for what he meant to say or what he wanted to say -- so much so that he quickly mastered one phrase with gusto: "I! CAN'T! DO! IT!"

This occurred to me recently as he went on a ministry trip with his youth pastor and some of his guys to the local juvenile detention center to share the Gospel with some of the fellows there.  As we debriefed on the way home, my dear lad was telling me of this young fellow he spoke with who said he accepted Jesus, but wasn't sure that he was ready to turn away from sin.  This young fellow confided to my son, "I guess I just have to do better."

My boy had been waiting for more than 15 years to say this to a person for a theological reason, and he was quite proud to tell me that his response to this incarcerated fellow was, "But you! can't! do it!"

Which, of course, sounds a lot like reformed theology -- or at least one kind of reformed theology.  Of course nobody over here affirms that we do anything for justification, or denies that even the regeneration necessary to receive justification is God's work.  But sometimes (as we visited above) we get it in our heads that because we cannot earn justification, justification is better than sanctification, and that somehow being holy ought to cause us to be unburdened by actually being holy.  Because that fellow in prison thought that his participation in the holiness God gives to those who are in Christ is optional, or some kind of hobby, he sounds suspiciously like someone who says something like, "I am so thankful for my right standing with God because, after all, my sanctification is more imagined than real. But my justification is more real than imagined."

Compare that to Spurgeon's recent tweet in the same vein:

The nearer a man lives to God the more intensely has he to mourn over his own evil heart.
— SPURGEON (@SPURGEONdotUS) November 12, 2014

Spurgeon doesn't say his sanctification is mostly imaginary: he says that sin becomes more obvious and our grief over it increases as we draw nearer to God.  Paul, the greatest of sinners (he says), doesn't for a moment doubt he is not yet perfect -- but he also doesn't see that as a ground for saying that his justification is somehow better than his sanctification (or vice versa).  It seems to me that the same fellow who wrote 1Tim 1:15 also wrote 1Cor 11:1a.  For Paul, it's not a question of which is better -- one adorns the other, and one causes or draws out the other.  They are both necessary, and one is not a Christian without both.

So as my boy and I discussed this fellow in prison who is not ready to "try harder," we didn't discuss the fantastic irony and religious metaphor he found.  We discussed the idea that while we don't do a thing to be saved by God -- the saving is all of God -- saved people have something right now to show for this salvation.  We aren't pitting an eternal decree of holiness against an immediate inclination toward holy deeds, or shouldn't be anyway.  We are glorifying God, and enjoying him for ever, starting right now.

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Encouragement from Gurnall: God's strength for me

by Dan Phillips

As part of my morning devotional reading I'm going through William Gurnall's The Christian in Complete Armour. Though I have the hard-copy, I'm using the Logos edition.

I've just started preaching through Ephesians. My fourth sermon got me partway through verse 1a. So I figure that, given my rate of preaching and Gurnall's weigh-in of 1240 pages, I ought to be mostly through it by the time I get to the armor of God in chapter 6, DV.

You know that Gurnall is a Puritan writer, and perhaps some acquaintaince with Owen prepares you for difficult, turgid prose. That's what makes reading him such a delight. He so often uses quaint, everyday, homely turns of phrase. He's Puritanism at its best, mulling and chewing over the morsels of Scripture until we get the whole sweetness.

So that said, let me give you an extended excerpt that just encouraged and strengthened me. He's in his fourth chapter dwelling on "be strong in the Lord" and developing the implications of that charge. I'll add some paragraph-breaks to make it a bit more readable, and I'll bold a few particularly-notables.

Hear Gurnall and be encouraged:

First, In agonies of conscience that arise from the greatness of thy sins, fly for refuge into the almighty power of God. Truly, sirs, when a man’s sins are displayed in all their bloody colours, and spread forth in their killing aggravations, and the eye of conscience awakened to behold them through the multiplying or magnifying glass of a temptation, they must needs surprise the creature with horror and amazement, till the soul can say with the prophet, for all this huge host, ‘There is yet more with me than against me.’ One Almighty is more than many mighties. All these mighty sins and devils make not any almighty sin, or an almighty devil. Oppose to all the hideous charges brought against thee by them, this only attribute. As the French ambassador once silenced the Spaniard’s pride in repeating his master’s many titles, with one that drowned them all.

...The very consideringas none can bind God but himself, so none can break the bond himself makes; and are they not his own words, that ‘he will abundantly pardon?’ Isa. 55. He will multiply to pardon; as if he had said, I will drop mercy with your sin, and spend all I have, rather than let it be said my good is overcome of your evil.
God to be God, supposeth him to be almighty to pardon, as well as to avenge, and this is some relief; but then to consider it is almighty power in bond and covenant to pardon, this is more: 

...Thou mayest, poor soul, when accused by Satan, molested by his terrors, say, It is God that justifies; I have his hand to it, that I should have my life given me as soon as I laid down my arms and submitted to him, which I desire to do; behold the gates of my heart are open to let the Prince of Peace in, and is not the Almighty able to perform his promise? I commit myself to him as unto a faithful Creator.

Secondly, Improve this alstands in sight of thee while thou art in the valley fighting, and stays [refrains from helping] but for a call from thee when distressed in battle, and then he will come to thy rescue. Jehoshaphat cried, when in the throng of his enemies, and the Lord helped him; much more mayest thou promise thyself his succour in thy soul-combats.

mighty power of God and thy interest therein, in temptations to sin; when thou art overpowered, and fleest before the face of thy strong corruption, or fearest thou shalt one day fall by it, make bold to take hold of this attribute, and reinforce thyself from it; again to resist, and in resisting, to believe a timely victory over it. The Almighty God 

Betake thyself to the throne of grace with that promise, ‘Sin shall not have dominion over you;’ and before thou urgest it, the more to help thy faith, comfort thyself with this, that though this word Almighty is not expressed, yet it is implied in this and every promise; and thou mayest, without adding a tittle to the word of God, read it in thy soul; ‘Sin shall not have dominion over you,’ saith the Almighty God; for this and all his attributes are the constant seal to all his promises. Now, soul, put the bond in suit, fear not the recovery, it is debt, and so due. He is able whom thou suest, and so there is no fear of losing the charge of the suit; and he that was so gracious to bind himself when he was free, will be so faithful, being able, to perform now he is bound; only while thou expectest the performance of the promise, and the assistance of this almighty power against thy corruptions, take heed that thou keep under the shadow of this attribute, and condition of this promise, Psa. 91:1.

The shadow will not cool, except in it. What good to have the shadow, though of a mighty rock, when we sit in the open sun? To have almighty power engaged for us, and we to throw ourselves out of the protection thereof, by bold sallies into the mouth of temptation? The saints’ falls have been when they run out of their trench and hold; for, like the conies, they are a weak people in themselves, and their strength lies in the rock of God’s almightiness which is their habitation.

Thirdly, Christian, improve this, when oppressed with the weight of any duty and service, which in thy place and calling lies upon thee. Perhaps thou findest the duty of thy calling too heavy for thy weak shoulders; make bold by faith to lay the heaviest end of thy burden on God’s shoulder, which is thine, if a believer, as sure as God can make it by promise. When at any time thou art sick of thy work, and ready to think with Jonas to run from it, encourage thyself with that of God to Gideon, whom he called from the flail to thresh the mountains: Go in this thy might; hath not God called thee? Fall to the work God sets thee about, and thou engagest his strength for thee. ‘The way of the Lord is strength.’ Run from thy work, and thou engagest God’s strength against thee; he will send some storm or other after thee to bring home his runaway servant. How oft hath the coward been killed in a ditch, or under some hedge, when the valiant soldier that stood his ground and kept his place, got off with safety and honour?

...He can give thee so much comfort in hand, as thou shalt acknowledge God is aforehand with thee, for all the shame and pain thou canst endure for him. And if it should not amount to this, yet so much as will bear all thy charges thou canst be put to in the way, lies ready told in that promise, 1 Cor. 10:13. Thou shalt have it at sight; and this may satisfy a Christian; especially if he considers, though he doth not carry so much of heaven’s joy about him to heaven as others, yet he shall meet it as soon as he comes to his Father’s house, where it is reserved for him.

In a word, Christian, rely upon thy God, and make thy daily applications to the throne of grace, for continual supplies of strength; you little think how kindly he takes it, that you will make use of him, the oftener the better; and the more you come for, the more welcome; else why would Christ have told his disciples, ‘Hitherto ye have asked nothing,’ but to express his large heart in giving, loath to put his hand to his purse for a little, and therefore by a familiar kind of rhetoric puts them to rise higher in asking, as Naaman, when Gehazi asked one talent, entreats him to take two. Such a bountiful heart thy God hath, while thou art asking a little peace and joy, he bids thee open thy mouth wide, and he will fill it.

Go and ransack thy heart, Christian, from one end to the other; find out thy wants, acquaint thyself with all thy weaknesses, and set them before the Almighty, as the widow her empty vessel before the prophet; hadst thou more than thou canst bring, thou mayest have them all filled. God hath strength enough to give, but he hath no strength to deny: here the Almighty himself, with reverence be it spoken, is weak; even a child, the weakest in grace of his family that can but say Father, is able to overcome him, and therefore let not the weakness of thy faith discourage thee. No greater motive to the bowels of mercy to stir up almighty power to relieve thee, than thy weakness, when pleaded in the sense of it. The pale face and thin cheeks, I hope, move more with us, than the canting language of a stout sturdy beggar. Thus that soul that comes laden in the sense of his weak faith, love, patience, the very weakness of them carries an argument along with them for succour.

[William Gurnall and John Campbell, The Christian in Complete Armour (London: Thomas Tegg, 1845), 19–21.]

Isn't that good? Better still, the truth Gurnall relished.

Be encouraged, Christian friend; and be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might.

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When "I tried that" is a problem

by Dan Phillips

[NOTE: to avoid having to fiddle with pronouns, I'll use the standard generic "he"/"his"/"him" throughout.]

Hearing a person in a troubled marriage say "I tried _____" raises a red flag of concern to me.

Why? Surely all the person is doing is sharing his frustration, his disappointment, his hurt. It isn't necessarily a claim of self-righteousness, or an attempt to build a case against his wife. He isn't necessarily trying to make me think he's the good guy, and she's the bad evil vixen. Oh, it can be any or all of those things; but not necessarily.


So I will of course start talking about ways to implement what Scripture says to do, and he will say, "I tried that."

And that's a problem.

How? How can "I tried X" a problem? If a doctor said "Take two ibuprofen" or "Have a hot bath," and the patient had already done so without any relief, wouldn't "I tried that" be the perfect answer? Isn't it both honest and diagnostically helpful?

In this case, no. It is helpful, but it is not a good sign. It is helpful, in that I've come to see it often as a clue to how the person approaches marriage, and his role in it.

Here's the reality: as I remarked more times than I can count when teaching on the Biblical doctrine of marriage,

"Marriage is like being a Christian
 — only more so." 

In other words, everything I am called to be as a Christian, I am called to be in my marriage. I am called as a Christian to love, to be patient and longsuffering, to be gracious and kind, to be ready to forgive, to be devoted to serve the other for his good. I'm called to seek to embody these graces towards all.

But in just about every relationship I have, if tension arises, I can walk away. I can go home, I can go to bed, I can get distance from the locus of the tension. For that matter, I could move to the other side of the globe from it. And I'm not called by God to be everyone's close friend. It isn't a moral obligation.

None of which is true with marriage.

With marriage, I have all the same obligations, and more — and it's 24/7/365, it's right up there in my face, and I can't simply walk away if it gets rough.

But go back to other relationships. What is God's command to us, for those relationships? Are we called to "try" loving each other? Then, if it doesn't work, we stop, complain, do something else instead? Are we called to "try" being patient, kind, devoted to their good? How about our relationship with God? Are we to "try" holiness, see if it works for us or not? Righteousness? Faith?

You all know the answer: "Of course not." These aren't methods offered to us on a trial-basis, for us to test-drive and evaluate, then reject or embrace depending on outcome. It's not a negotiation. These attitudes and actions are our lives, as Christians. We're called to grow this fruit, period (Gal. 5:22-23). If Paul could say there is no law against such graces (Gal. 5:23b), he could not say there is no law calling for them. This is what we are called to be, not to "try."

So: God doesn't call me to "try" loving my wife as Christ loved the church as a tactic. He doesn't call me to run it up the flagpole and see if anyone salutes. He doesn't invite me to see how that whole love-my-wife-like-Christ business works out, then to keep it up or drop it, depending on whether it "works." He doesn't call spouses to try not gossiping and complaining about each other. He doesn't call wives to try being respectful and submissive, any more than He calls children to try honoring their parents — or believing in Christ.

And so I say it is a red flag, because I've found that it often is a symptom. It may indicate that the spouse holds as the paramount value — not glorifying God and enjoying Him forever, but — being treated as he believes he deserves. That is the first and great unwritten commandment. So when his wife doesn't treat him as he deserves, that's wrong. She needs to change. But she doesn't want to. How to get her to change?

Well, he could try various things. He might yell at her. Or he might freeze her out. Or he might ignore her. Or he might talk her down to others.

Or, if he's really pious, he might "try" loving her.

See what I did there? The objective is to get her to behave right. (And, for the record, she should: she should love him and honor him, and do her best to make him glad he's married to her.) In pursuit of that objective, he tries various things. This tactic, that tactic... God's commands might even be among those things he tries — in pursuit of his objective: getting her to treat him right.

So here comes the obvious rub. What if it "doesn't work"? What if she's still a merciless shrew? Well, he tried, you see? It didn't work. So he has to try something else. Like complaining about her to everyone who will listen. Like self-pity. Like growing increasingly bitter and resentful. Like wearing the martyr's robes for everyone to see. Like trying to get kids and friends to see her as he does, see how bad she is and how nobly he suffers.

Suppose, though, he realized that being a Christian who actually practices what he professes — which is, after all, what we're talking about, right? — isn't something you "try." It's something you do, come what may, and God helping you, you don't let all the powers of Hell stop you. Much less a grumpy, sharp-tongued, ungrateful spouse.

What then, when his wife responds to his love with contempt, scorn, or even abuse? What if his coming close to love and serve her just gives her a better and crueller shot at him? What then?

Let me ask you: Does the Bible say anything about how Christians should respond to verbal abuse? To ingratitude? To false accusations? Anything in there at all? Anything? Bueller?

I'll wait for the light-bulbs to finish flashing on.

See, marriage in that regard is not  a different category of life, as if I need to treat other people by unchanging standards, but my wife is different. It isn't as if I have 66 books of direction for all my relationships, but only a few chapters that apply to relating to my wife. She's only different in that she will always be there for me to practice these graces, and I can't walk away if it gets rough.

Because being married is like being a Christian.

Only more so.

And in that life, what gets "tried" is us and our faith (1 Peter 1:7) — not God's commands.

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The relation of grace to sanctification

by Dan Phillips

With the Tullian Tchividjian/TGC controversy, the topic of the relationship of grace to works has come up for fresh discussion and wheel-reinventions. However, you regular readers were kept ahead of the curve by many posts, including this and this. Additionally, The World-Tilting Gospel anticipated the issue with extended treatment of the Biblical teaching relating justification and grace to sanctification and obedience.

Discussing positions "that are barriers to genuine Christian growth," the book looks at a the teaching of folks called "Gutless Gracers." In this use, "gutless" refers to "grace," not the advocates. That is, the term doesn't at all mean that those who promote it have no courage, but that their teaching gives the impression that grace has no real transformative or sanctifying power — no "guts."

The following is a sample passage, from pp. 199-201:

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In spite of the PR that Gutless Grace advocates give themselves, the problem with this position is not that it makes too much of grace, and that their critics just hate grace. Rather, the problem is that gutless grace makes far too little of grace. It is those who biblically condemn the gutless-grace position who love the true grace of God in Christ. Listen closely to what God moves Paul to say in Titus 2:11–14:

For the grace of God that brings salvation to all men has appeared, instructing us that, by renouncing irreverence and worldly desires, we should come to live level-headedly and righteously and reverently in the present age, as we eagerly await the blessed hope and appearance of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave Himself for us, in order that He might redeem us from all lawlessness, and might cleanse for Himself a people for His own possession, zealous for good works. (DJP)

This passage, then, is about grace (v. 11). What’s more, it is written by the apostle Paul, whom God assigned a special position of managing the message of His grace (Eph. 3:2). So we must pay close heed if we are to get the “real scoop” about what God means by “grace.”

Is grace, in this passage, God’s way of making it “okay” that we live on under the authority of sin? Is “grace” how God makes peace with the idea of sin? Does “grace” mean that God accepts our giving no thought to His revealed will, floating along with the currents of our own desires on the waves of the world’s trends?

Is grace a passive thing in God, and a “Get-Out-Of-Hell(-But-Still-Live-Like-It)-Free” card for us?

Hardly.

If Paul meant anything like that, he should have written that “the grace of God that brings salvation to all men” appeared in order to “instruct” us that we can live crazily, unrighteously, and godlessly, and that we shouldn’t give a gnat’s toenail about what pleases God.

But Paul wrote nothing of the kind. By contrast, the apostle says that the saving grace of God is a dynamic thing, a transformative, supernatural power. The woman or man touched by the grace Paul speaks of will never remain the same. That person will be revolutionized, created anew. Focus on Paul’s wording:

• Grace brings us salvation. It effects rescue, deliverance. Grace gives us new life and saving faith. Grace imputes Christ’s righteousness. But it doesn't stop there; grace sees to it that we are really delivered, really rescued—saved. If we have been left where we were found, we haven’t been saved!
• Grace instructs us. The word translated “instructing” is paideuousa (pie-DEW-oo-sah), which is a word that carries the idea of “education with a pow.” It is discipline, pointed and powerful instruction, training. This verb and the related noun are used in Hebrews 12:5–11, of God the Father’s discipline of His children, a discipline that may be like a whipping (v. 6), and which is far from fun to receive (v. 11), but which has the actual effect of bringing us to righteousness of life (v. 11). Paul’s uses of the verb have plenty of “pow” as well (1 Cor. 11:32; 2 Cor. 6:9; 1 Tim. 1:20; 2 Tim. 2:25).
• Grace instructs us to renounce ungodliness. Renouncing is the “negative” lesson of grace—what it teaches us to put to death. It means “saying‘no’ to” these desires, showing them the door (or the shotgun). Not coddling or “gracing over” or shrugging off. This is a necessity for godly living (“by renouncing”; that is, “renouncing” is how it is done). It is something that grace instructs us to do, not something that automatically happens to us.
• Grace instructs us to live levelheadedly and righteously and reverently in the present age. That means that grace teaches us to live in a way that respects God’s lordship, and thus His revealed law-word for us. It describes a life of heartfelt striving to conform to God’s Word. That’s what God’s real, dynamic grace teaches! A life unconcerned with the Word is a life that hasn't known the touch of this grace.
  
• Grace redeems us from all lawlessness. Paul in Titus 2:14 views “lawlessness” as a slave owner or captor, and Jesus as the one who paid the price to liberate us from that bondage. But “lawlessness” is just what Gutless Gracers end up enabling—a mind-frame that doesn’t view itself as obliged to any standard, including God’s. With the Gutless Gracer, “to hear” is not “to obey.” This has nothing to do with adding works to the Gospel; it has everything to do with the Gospel liberating us to be God’s slaves.
• Grace makes us zealous for good works. Paul surely cannot be saying “zealous to explain how good works are optional.” This zeal is an assured effect of Christ’s saving grace, Paul says. “Good works” are behaviors that God’s Word identifies as pleasing to Him. According to Paul, then, the person who knows grace will be eager and enthusiastic about finding out what God wants of and for him, and about plunging into it with all he’s got. 

Put it all together, and what do we have? Grace with guts, with transformative power.

(Part of a much fuller discussion in The World-Tilting Gospel [pp. 199-201].)

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Don't "try"

by Dan Phillips

I imagine that every pastor (and most Christians) runs into this. Someone is dealing with a significant, longterm issue — depression, marital friction, scary children, what-have-you. The person sketches out his woes in moving, saddening detail, with great feeling and emotion. You listen with compassion.

Then you interact, sharing your concern and care, and communicating God's word. Let's say for the sake of a post's length (which, after all, is not a doctoral dissertation) that the issues involved are fairly clearcut, and directly addressed by Scripture. You bring the Scripture out, you discuss it, you discuss implementation and application.

And either at that moment, or at the next conversation, you hear it: "I tried that."

If you're geek enough, perhaps you silently think...

Of course the green Muppet has a point. I liked the story I heard of the psychologist who, confronted with the "I'll try" response, would throw a $20 bill on the floor and say "Try to pick that up." Point made.

Except that isn't my point.

Here's my point: in a situation such as I've described — and remember, this is my situation; I created it for illustration purposes — the "I've tried" response is very revealing, and not in a happy way.

Walking with God isn't something you try. Loving the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and might is not something you try. Loving your neighbor as yourself isn't something you try. The fear of Yahweh, living in the fear of Yahweh all day, living as in the presence of God, continuing in the word of Christ, abiding in Christ — these aren't things we try.

These are the calls of God on us. They reflect the way the world really is. To have a relationship with God is to go in those directions; not to do so is to live a doomed lie. All of these are facets of the life to which God calls us. They are descriptions of where we are going, where we must be going, if we are in Christ.

What I am afraid the "I tried that" response often reveals is a fundamental misunderstanding of all that. I am afraid it reveals that the person thinks of Christian living as a technique, a means to achieve an end. Particularly, in many of the specifics I have in mind, it is a means to achieve the end of making others treat me in a certain way.

So take the husband with the shrewish, emasculating wife. Say you counsel with him to love his wife as Christ loves the church, regardless of her behavior. Say you open up in Biblical depth and breadth all that means, and you relate it to the Gospel as you should.

Sometime later, he once again begins listing off to you a long and lurid narrative of his wife's crimes and misdemeanors. He goes on and on. The subtext seems to be: she's so awful, I'm so mistreated.

You stop him, and remind him of the call of Scripture on him. The conversation you already had.

"Oh, yeah. I tried that," he says.

Well then. There you go. You see? He thought you were giving him a way to make his wife behave, to make her treat him the way she should. He tried it. She didn't. What now?

That's the misunderstanding, and it's a deep one. As I read the Gospels, as I read 1 Peter, as I read the whole Bible, a Gospel-grounded, Christ-centered life is what we're called to live no matter what anyone else does.

Specifically, as a pastor, preaching the Word is definitional and non-negotiable for me, in fair weather and foul, open ears or itching ears, crowds flooding in or crowds bailing out. It isn't something I "try," and then if my church doesn't get big quickly, I reach around for something else. As a husband, loving my wife as Christ loves the church is definitional and non-negotiable. It isn't something I "try." Ditto my calling as a father, a church-member, a friend.

So, the next time you hear (or say) "I tried that," don't shrug it off. It may be a telling symptom of a major maladjustment in orientation.

We're not called to try. We're called to die, and to live again.

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Acting unwisely that "grace" may abound?

by Dan Phillips

At CBC the Sunday School class has been a series titled The Bible, Marriage and You. Having Biblically laid the foundation of the meaning of marriage, we turned to focus for several lessons on how singles should approach marriage. As long-time Pyro readers would expect, I made a very impassioned case that Christians should not even toy with becoming romantically involved with non-believers.

Last Sunday we capped that portion of the series, and turned to address marrieds. But before we left our focus on singles, I wanted to deal with one last issue. A great believer in prevention, I wanted to head off a pernicious thought: the person who might say, "But ______ dated an unbeliever, and he got saved!" or even "But ____ married an unbeliever, and she got saved/was a great lady/whatever." In other words, "Sure, maybe it's foolish, maybe it's even sinful, but other people did it and it worked out okay... so what's the big deal, Pastor?"

This is course-charting by anecdote, and it is (to say the very least) a foolish way to live.

As you can imagine, I had some thoughts about this, and I shared them with characteristic daintiness and nuance. Which is to say I fired up the grill and barbecued away, driven by passion and conviction and a lot of care and concern for my dear ones here, as well as intrawebbers. My conclusion was that this whole line of thinking amounted to asking "Why not just continue in sin, that grace might abound?"

And then Monday, I read this, and its (at present) unanimously positive, emotional accolades. Ah, me.

Tullian Tchividjian, now a pastor, admits to having been such an incorrigible 16yo that his father actually booted him out of the house. But Tchividjian continued on a rebellious, ruinous path... and his father fully subsidized it. At one point, after Tchividjian had screwed up a job and lied to his father about what had happened, dad gave him a blank check, no questions asked. Though Tchividjian took advantage of that check, it didn't stop there. Tullian snuck into the family home and committed repeated acts of theft and felony, stealing dad's checks and forging his signature. Dad (a clinical psychologist, or so I read) was aware of his son's crimes, and let him go on (you'll pardon me) unchecked and unconfronted.

But see: it had a happy ending. By all accounts, Tchividjian's now converted, is a good guy and a celebrated and well-positioned preacher of wide renown. So we know it was the right thing to do. Right?

In proof and as a capper, Tchividjian quotes a bunch of directly-relevant Scriptures counseling Christian parents to handle rebellious, criminal dependents in just exactly this manner.

No, I'm kidding. Tchividjian doesn't do anything like that. What he does instead is quote Steve Brown, whose rather appalling teachings about "grace" I've examined at great length elsewhere (here, here, and here).

But it's a feel-good story, and anyone who disagrees can only be cast as a legalist and anti-grace and a hater and a good-story-spoiler and all those awful things. Besides, it's at The Gospel Coalition, so it has to be all right, right? They're all sound there. Right?

Tchividjian's book Jesus + Nothing = Everything received a fair bit of friendly critical pushback, most of which centered around accusations that it fell short of Biblically relating the indicative to the imperative.

Unfortunately, none of the critics I read seemed to know of a single book that presents the Gospel Biblically, highlighting God's saving grace in such a way as to frame the place of God's commands within a grace-fueled walk — a book that does some kind of justice both to both indicative and imperative. It sounded as if they really, really wished that some book Biblically preached up God's sovereign, saving grace, and equally clearly set forth the distinctively sanctifying power of grace. Some book that dealt extensively with Scripture, exalted God and His word, and was broadly accessible. But none of the critics I read could really recommend a single book that did all that. Sadder still, none of the commenters on those reviews seemed to know of such a book, either. Alas.

It is tough critiquing an article like this, as the critics of Tchividjian's book clearly struggled in their criticisms. How do you criticize such a piece, without sounding as if you're criticizing grace — even though it may be a "you keep using that word" situation. If writers or speakers can just say words like "grace" and "love," and let our imaginations roam free, this is what we're likely to come up with. Then particularly if we append the uniquely modern modifier unconditional, and the uniquely modern equation of such love with unconditional enabling and approval, we're well on our way. Add a few heart-tugging anecdotes and a lot of sentiment, and the deal's sealed and on its way to the publisher/conference circuit.

So then when someone tries to point out that the book of Proverbs is still in the Bible, is still breathed out by the God who knows everything about grace and love, and is still profitable for teaching, reproof, correction, and training in righteousness; and that Proverbs (to say the least) doesn't lend itself to such amorphous sentimentality and funding of folly and crime... well, he's really asking for it.

And yet.

The call to us is, "If you love Me, you will keep My commandments" (John 14:15) — not "you will figure out what strikes you as the most gracious, loving thing to do, then pray for it all to work out." Love for God is still, in this church age, to keep His commandments (1 Jn 5:3) — not to pursue what we hope will work, especially if it suits our standards of grace and love, and leave it to God to bring on the happy ending.

And it falls to us who are elders to keep speaking things that befit sound doctrine (Titus 2:1), and insistently to urge our hearers to be eager to do them (Titus 2:15).

Not to do what fits the content our imaginations supply to a Bibley theme, bereft of the Bible's own working out of that theme.

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Marriage: a tale of paired assertions

by Dan Phillips

First: "Husbands should not force their wives to submit to their lawful authority."

Second: "Wives should not force their husbands to be sexually faithful to them."

Let's try two more, slightly different:

Third: "Husbands should not demand that their wives respect them."

Fourth: "Wives should not demand that their husbands love them."

And:

Fifth: "The Bible says that wives should subordinate themselves to and respect their husbands, but..."

Sixth: "The Bible says that husbands should love their wives as themselves, but..."

Then finally:

Seventh: "A husband's authority should never be exercised in an arbitrary or abusive way."

Eighth: "A wife's expectation of love should never be shrewish, excessively demanding, or insatiable."

Now, discuss.

Suggested questions:

• Is each pair of statements equally Biblical? If not, how not?
• Is each element within each pair of statements heard equally frequently? If not, why not?
• Are answers to any of the previous questions diagnostically helpful as to the spirit of the age?

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A. W. Pink: glorifying God by disobeying Him?

by Dan Phillips

I realize that A. W. Pink is a hero and beloved saint to many. His books, particularly The Sovereignty of God, have been very helpful for decades.

For my part, I've never been a huge fan. I've tried reading him, and generally been defeated by his verbosity or his fanciful exegesis. I've other books that do a better job of what he tries to do, so they take up my time instead of Pink.

HSAT, I'm reading through a book called Bible Interpreters of the Twentieth Century: A Selection of Evangelical Voices, edited by Elwell and Weaver. The chapter I just finished was devoted to A. W. Pink.

From a whole-Bible, sufficient-Scripture perspective, it's not a particularly happy story after the opening bits. Pink had been a Theosophist, but was soundly converted whilst in the middle of his activities, and instantly preached Christ in a Theosophical meeting at which he was to be a speaker.

But after that, Pink's life goes south in a number of ways. He eschews any kind of apprenticeship or training, too devoted to himself and his own endeavors. This will yield mixed fruit: the intensity of his studies will indeed give Pink some good material to give away. However, this isolation is constantly and roundly warned against in Scripture, which commends instead humble exposure to the reproof and counsel of others (e.g. Prov. 10:17; 12:1; 13:18; 15:5, 10, 31-32; 18:1-2; etc.). As anyone who reads and believes the Bible could have predicted, baleful effects followed foolish choices.

Pink attempts to pastor, but ends up careening from location to location to location. Pink prefers talking to people from a great distance (i.e. writing), and ends up devoted to that activity solely, in complete isolation from any personal contact with Christ's church or the means of grace. Which brings me to set these two passages in contrast.

First:

He labored faithfully for his remaining twelve years of life, writing and producing the periodical while he lived in virtual isolation, not even attending a local church. He justified this behavior by explaining that the admonition not to neglect the assembling of ourselves together does not mean that the sheep of Christ should attend a place where the goats predominate or where their attendance would sanction that which is dishonoring to Christ. On Sundays he spent his time pastoring his flock of faithful readers by writing letters answering their questions concerning the Bible and theology. Would-be visitors who had traveled great distances to Stornoway were discouraged as they were usually turned away, not being allowed to see him. The townspeople knew little about him, except that each day at a certain hour he took a walk through the town. 

[Elwell, W. A., & Weaver, J. D. (1999). Bible interpreters of the twentieth century: A selection of evangelical voices (138). Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books.]

Second:

Pink also believed in, practiced, and preached holiness of life, including sacrificial living for his Lord. He longed to do the will of God, whatever it might be. He searched and searched, prayed and prayed, waited and waited to learn the will of God, and finally surrendered to do what was unmistakably God’s will—the use of his pen. [Ibid., 140.]

These passages in juxtaposition give us an opportunity to consider what I've hammered on again and again, just about every place I have a chance.

Consider:

The second passage tells us Pink was holy, and committed to "sacrificial living for his Lord," doing the will of God heroically, surrendering to "what was unmistakably God’s will—the use of his pen." But the first passage had told us that Pink had no time for pursuing the second most important thing in the universe according to Jesus: love your neighbor as yourself (Matt. 22:36-40).

Now, like all religious people, Pink worked out what the biographer calls a "justification," which as always is nothing but a rationalization. And the biographer gives Pink a pass, because he was such a splendid writer. So because of Pink's (and the biographer's) writing, Christians are once again urged to the fiction that one can seek and do the "will of God" in direct and continued disobedience to the Word of God.

Because the second passage is utter nonsense, to a Biblical Christian. Disobeying God's direct, unambiguous and insistent commands to be personally in community, under the oversight of elders, is not "holiness of life," and it is not "sacrificial living for the Lord." It is indulgent and arrogant living for oneself. It is someone who didn't seem, in any way, to "get" what it means to live and think like a slave.

In fact, mark the first passage. Not only was Pink too good to associate with imperfect saints (where he is not in charge and running things his way); he would not even accept visitors. Pink must have imagined that he had some mystical exemption from Romans 12:13, Hebrews 13:2, and 1 Peter 4:9 as well as the previously-noted commands. And while he wrote very critically and insistently upon evangelism, and how everyone else was doing it wrong, "The townspeople knew little about him, except that each day at a certain hour he took a walk through the town." So according to this, Pink "practiced holiness" by neither actually obeying the Word of God, nor even through practicing what he literarily preached.

Instead, here once again this ugly specter of a mystical, individual will of God that in fact trumps the written Word of God rears its devastating head. The writer is content that God had a will for Pink that trumped the revealed will He inscripturated for all saints at all times and in all places. God's inerrant and unchanging and living Word is packed with "one-anothers" to be lived in the fellowship of the local church; but to A. W. Pink, we are given to think that He whispered, "Not you, Arthur. I want you to disobey what I told everyone else to do and stay at home, isolated and distant, practicing none of the graces of the Spirit, lecturing others about their responsibility. You just write; and in your writings, urge others to the obedience and holiness from which I am hereby excusing you."

So you see, like many who have tried to ply their wares in our metas, Pink imagined he had a "note from God" excusing him for actually obeying those commands God addressed to lesser beings. And the biographer apparently confirms that note.

You want to say Pink wrote some helpful things? If you say so. You want to tell me he's a model of Christian holiness and sacrificial living and integrity?

Yeah, I don't think so. In walking after Christ I constantly struggle (cf. Gal. 5:17ff.), I too frequently fail, I am at unceasing war with my own inconsistencies and inadequacies. The human knack for rationalization is an ever-present risk and fear.

The last thing I need held up for emulation is a man who found a way to avoid that whole struggle by pious-sounding excuses.

How about you?

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Notes from God

by Dan Phillips

When I was a child, I had a pretty prodigious case of asthma. During the days when doctors made house calls, my parents would have to call the doctor occasionally to come and give blue-lipped gasping young me a shot of adrenalin to open up my lungs, so I could breathe again.

So later on in school I had a note from Mom, excusing me from physical activities such as track and the like. Running meant wheezing, and that wasn't good. So that note from Mom meant I didn't have to do what all the other kids had to do. Them, yes. Me, no.

That was a real note, a literal note, for a real reason. I didn't write it; my mother did. Behind her was the doctor. It had oomph. It was legit.

Throughout the 400 or so years of my Christian life, I have been astonished over and over at how many Christians imagine they have "a note from God." Unlike my mother's note, it isn't visible, it isn't readable by others, and it won't stand inspection. The oomph it has is supplied by their own imagination, and a complex series of accompanying diversions and rationalizations.

This phantom note excuses them from having to do what every other Christian in every other age and every other location on the globe (other than their little 2X2 spot) has been morally obliged to do.

Them, perhaps. Me, no. I have this note.

Such notes, and usually for such transparently flimsy reasons!

Here is a representative, non-exhaustive list:

• Scripture says that God calls me to involve myself in a local church, but I'm excused because no church leaders measure up to Biblical standards.
• Scripture says that God calls me to involve myself in a local church, but I'm excused because I haven't found a church that _____ (insert non-essential requirement of perfect adherence to personal demands).
• Scripture says that God calls me to involve myself in a local church, but I'm excused because ______ (insert sad story of bad past experience).
• Scripture calls me to love my wife as Christ loved the church, to nourish and cherish her, to assign her honor and live with her in an understanding way, but I am excused because she _____ (insert non-divorce-warranting litany of complaints here).
• Scripture calls me to subordinate myself to my husband in all respects as the church subordinates itself to Christ, to help him and respect him from my very heart, to win him by godly and respectful behavior and not a barrage of verbal abuse, but I am excused because he _____ (insert non-divorce-warranting litany of complaints here).
• Scripture calls me never ever even to think of abuse, threats, or divorce as marital aids or ways to resolve marital conflict,* but I am excused because _____ (that isn't my calling / I wouldn't be lauded as being nuanced and helpful and thoughtful / the Club will rescind my membership).
• Scripture calls me to honor my father and mother and make them glad I'm their child and not ashamed, but I am excused because they _____ (insert irrelevant personal issue here).

• Scripture calls me to devote myself to giving and serving in a local church that puts the preaching and doing of Christ's Word central, rather than shopping churches as if they were my personal Walmarts, stressing my convenience and my comfort-level and my desire to be served and coddled rather than called to serve and love, but I am excused because ______ (rationalization; or "my wife ___").
• Scripture calls me to study and learn and grow in my understanding of the word of God, but I am excused because it's hard / I can't concentrate / I'm just not a student (which = "I'm just not a Christian").
• Scripture calls me as a pastor to put the Gospel and the preaching of the whole counsel of God, including both the positive ministry of exhortation and the negative ministry of rebuking error, and to do it heartily, boldly, and without compromise wherever I go, but I am excused because _____ (that isn't my calling / I wouldn't be lauded as being nuanced and helpful and thoughtful / the Club will rescind my membership).
• Scripture calls me as a pastor to warn the folks in my congregation against serious sin and error regardless of how they will respond to me, but I am excused because _____ (it'd split the church / I'd lose too many members / that isn't my ministry).
• Scripture calls me to own and repent of the sin isolated and nailed by one or more of the previous bullet-points, no matter what anyone else does or does not do, but ____ (insert rationalization that will not stand up to the Judgment Seat of Christ here).

To make any personal use of the list, we must understand an axiom of human nature. It is the characteristic of each note-holder is that he will insist that his note is legitimate. He really does have a note from God, excusing him. He is the exception. Anyone not convinced by his rationalization "just doesn't understand," or worse.

But such note-holders need to remember: every unrepentant sinner is convinced that his sin is different. (See #15 here.) No exceptions. It's axiomatic.

Every one of us sinners insists that what we're doing is right — until we repent of it. So the person who refuses to get involved in a local church, refuses to treat his/her spouse as Christ commands, commits rape or murder or theft, refuses to love/respect his/her spouse, indulges homosexual desires, gossips, gripes, mopes as if he had no grounds for hope — they're all the same; and they're all the same in that each imagines he's different.

Repentance changes all that. Repentance puts God's finger on me, stops me dead, isolates me from everything, changes the issue to God and His Word and me, shatters all pretenses, and requires death and resurrection.

See, we tend to forget that the Gospel is radical and transformative. We tend to forget: when Jesus calls us to Himself, He calls us to deny ourselves, pick up our cross, and follow him. To deny myself is radical and transformative. It is to unseat myself as lord. To take up my cross is radical and transformative. It is to die to that life of rationalizations and excuses designed to cushion the pursuit of my own wants, needs and desires. To follow Jesus is radical and transformative. It calls on me to take my internal Canaan, city by city, and subject all of it to the Lordship of Jesus.

And we'll never make headway in any of that until we learn to shred every last one of our imagined "notes from God." 

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* Note that this is carefully worded. I am not speaking of those areas where God does expressly permit divorce as an option — and, even then, not a requirement.

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Not a Trade School or a Book Club

by Frank Turk

For those interested, the whole sunday morning lesson this series is based on can be found here.

We have been talking about this passage in 1Thes:

But we were gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children. 8 So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us.  

9 For you remember, brothers, our labor and toil: we worked night and day, that we might not be a burden to any of you, while we proclaimed to you the gospel of God. 10 You are witnesses, and God also, how holy and righteous and blameless was our conduct toward you believers. 11 For you know how, like a father with his children, 12 we exhorted each one of you and encouraged you and charged you to walk in a manner worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.

And we have discussed that, in this passage, in Paul's view, the normal life of the local church has at least 3 components: Pastoral Care, Personal Affection, and Preaching the Gospel.  But there is a fourth component: Perfecting the Gospel.

4. Perfecting the Gospel

“walk in a manner worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory,” Paul said to the Thessalonians.

When Paul said this same thing to Titus at the end of his life, he said it this way, in Titus 2:

For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works.

He means that there are necessary consequences of the Gospel.  He says right above that section that they must “adorn the doctrine of God our Savior.”  That’s what “adorn” means: your wife may be beautiful in her own right, but there is something you can do for her which prefects her beauty.  You may “adorn” her with praise, or “adorn” her with honor, or better yet: “adorn” her with love.  You make what is already there perfect, complete, by doing the things which are necessary in order to show that they are true.

This is also what Paul sees as the ordinary life of the local church.  The fruit of the Spirit is there.  There’s a sense there that somehow, Jesus is coming and we must be ready for him, and that when we behave as if what we believe is actually true, being called to God’s Kingdom and Glory are worth it.  We must walk in a manner which is worthy of God, worthy of the calling into God’s Kingdom and God’s Glory.

So this is Paul’s ordinary instruction to the church:

For you remember, brothers, our labor and toil: we worked night and day, that we might not be a burden to any of you, while we proclaimed to you the gospel of God. 10 You are witnesses, and God also, how holy and righteous and blameless was our conduct toward you believers. 11 For you know how, like a father with his children, 12 we exhorted each one of you and encouraged you and charged you to walk in a manner worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.

It’s funny how Paul can pull the cover off the ordinary so quickly to reveal the extraordinary that is underneath it.  We get ourselves wrapped up in the idea that somehow, the big issues of the Christian life are wrapped up in big words and systematic theology.  We think that somehow God has decided that to follow him you need to get a whole new vocabulary which might not even be complete or adequate if you don’t know Greek and Hebrew and Latin.  But here, in this letter to people in a persecuted church, Paul doesn’t use any of those words at all.  He doesn’t resort to extraordinary language.  And he doesn’t appeal to an extraordinary experience – but he makes the point that somehow the Gospel makes us zealous for an ordinary life which is worthy of Himself, and His Kingdom.

This letter is written after Paul’s first visit to Thessalonica, yes?  But what Paul is describing here is what happened when he was in Thessalonica.  When he was done teaching, this is how Acts 17 describes the outcome:

But the Jews were jealous, and taking some wicked men of the rabble, they formed a mob, set the city in an uproar, and attacked the house of Jason, seeking to bring them out to the crowd. And when they could not find them, they dragged Jason and some of the brothers before the city authorities, shouting, “These men who have turned the world upside down have come here also, and Jason has received them, and they are all acting against the decrees of Caesar, saying that there is another king, Jesus.”

After the Thessalonians were taught by Paul, their whole city knew there was something different about them – and described it as turning the whole world upside down.  Yet somehow when we look at this letter, and Paul’s description of what he taught these people, somehow it looks utterly harmless.  It looks simple – maybe too simple, too obvious or boring.  But when it was first demonstrated, it was an event that changed the world.

• Pastoral Care.
• Personal Affection and concern.
• Proclamation of the Gospel.
• Perfecting the Gospel.

It’s a completely-ordinary thing – or it seems that way.  We are prone to take it for granted, to forget that this is not a social club or a trade school or a book club.  This is the place where the Kingdom of God is breaking into the world, and the victory of Jesus over sin and death is doing something that is not of this world.

I’m going to tell a story here to close up our time about my brother-in-law, David.  He tells a story about the first time he visited Boston. David's ex-military, and He says that he can remember all through school people told him about American history -- about the events that happened that caused us to be a country, the list of facts. But in Boston, he found himself out in the harbor looking down into the water, and when he looked into the water and out at the harbor he realized: "Wow. This is were they dropped the tea into the harbor." And at that moment, all those men and all the stories about them weren't just facts or true statements anymore: the real people became obvious to him, and it changed the way he thought about our country and his part in it.

It seems ridiculous – he lived his whole life in the United States, and walked around in it receiving all kinds of benefits from being a citizen.  But for him to really get it, to really understand that something happened to change the whole course of history, he had to do something as mundane as stand in front of the body of water where they threw some cargo into the ocean for the light bulb to go off.

But that’s what it seems to be about the local church – about Paul’s ordinary message to the Thessalonians.  In the same way that David finally got it, that THIS is where they threw the tea into the Harbor, Paul is telling us: show them the real Jesus.  Show them the Gospel of God not as a metaphor, not as a seminar on ancient literature.  Don’t just show them a nice time.  Show them that Jesus died for sin, and now the Glory of God and his Kingdom are coming into this world here, in the local church.  Show them the Gospel of God, the extraordinary thing under the ordinary life of the church.

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When the Lord seems harsh

by Dan Phillips

The story that opens Matthew 11 is intriguing and instructive from many angles.

First, we shouldn't miss how Matthew frames it in verse 2 — "Now when John heard in prison about the deeds of the Christ, he sent word by his disciples." It is unique for Matthew to say so baldly "the Christ." He uses the title sixteen times in total, usually on the lips of persons whom he quotes (i.e. 2:4; 16:16, 20; 22:42; 23:10; 24:5, 23, 63, 68; 27:17, 22). He himself (i.e. not in quotation) uses only five times: four times in the genealogy/birth narrative (1:1, 16, 17, 18), and here. It is found without "Jesus" only in 1:17; 2:4; 16:16, 20; 22:42; 23:10; 24:5, 23; 26:63, 28, and of those several are spoken to Jesus or by Jesus.

So Matthew is stressing the point to us that the miracles Jesus was doing are miracles of Messiah, they are Messianic deeds, they are Messianic in character and serve to identify Jesus as the one foretold throughout the pages of the Old Testament. Matthew wants us to have that firmly in mind as we read what follows.

John the Immerser, however — the Messianic forerunner, the Messianic announcer, the King-maker who had identified Messiah to Israel — is languishing in prison. Whether he looks to the right, to the left, upward or downward, no glorious kingdom is in sigh.

Not for the first time, John calls to our mind Elijah, who after a terrific victory (1 Kings 18) knew bitter discouragement and frustration (1 Kings 19; do not fail to hear Ligon Duncan open this up to devastating and glorious effect).

So John sends Jesus some messengers (v. 3) to ask: given that nothing (that, to John's expectation, should happen) is in fact happening, is Jesus really the Messiah? Or is Messiah still to come?

How deep did John's doubt go? We can't know. He may have truly wondered if he had been mistaken in identifying Jesus as the Messiah. Or he may have been wanting to prod Jesus into action. Or he may just have wanted an explanation, a word of encouragement, as he awaited what would be his death, a death that apparently would come before the least glimmer of Messianic kingdom glory.

The key, again, is in verse 2. Where did John hear about "the deeds of the Messiah." Matthew tells us: "in prison." John expected (rightly!) that Messiah would bring political deliverance and victory and vindication, a golden age and an earthly kingdom. But John saw no deliverance for Israel, and no deliverance for himself. So he sent his students to ask the question.

How does Jesus respond?

Not as we'd expect, were we encountering this for the first time.

You have to say that our Lord's response is pretty brusque, even falls a bit harshly on our ears (vv. 4-6). It isn't cruel, but it isn't what some might call gentle and edifying and thoughtful and nuanced and careful and all that.

I mean, honestly, wouldn't you have said something different? I think I would have. I might have said, "Tell John to hang in there. Tell him I feel his suffering and pain, I know and I care. Tell him that the Messianic kingdom will come in all its glory, and he will live and rejoice as a great name in that kingdom. Tell him that he will see that all his suffering was not in vain, but brought great glory to God. Tell him that the present sufferings are not worth comparing to the glory to follow. Tell him that, for that kingdom ever to happen, I must first make atonement for sin, and win the crown through the Cross. Tell him that, if he endures, he will eventually understand everything, and will rejoice."

I think that's what I would have said.

And, evidently (as I've noted before), I would have been wrong.

Jesus sees that John needs something different, and of course He is right. As I said, His answer isn't cruel, but it isn't soft, either. He says in effect, "Remind John of what he already knows, but is forgetting in his discouragement. Remind him that he already knows the answer to that question. And remind him that sticking with me solidly and faithfully guarantees blessing."

In no way did He tell John what John wanted to hear. Instead, He told John what John needed to hear.

And then, before I bring this home, note that it even gets worse, in a way. The second John's students leave, Jesus waxes eloquent about what a great man John was! I mean, He goes on and on about it (vv. 7-19). Now, seriously — couldn't He have said a little of that to John? Couldn't He have thrown him a wee little bone? I mean, come on; John's in prison awaiting death for his faithful service to Jesus. Jesus couldn't show a little love in that way?

Again, evidently not. Apparently John himself would never hear those kind words in this life. Evidently, what I think John needed is not what John actually needed.

Perhaps we get another peek in verse 7, where Jesus asks "concerning John: 'What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken by the wind?'" Even given this question, which the crowds evidently overheard, Jesus does not see John as "shaken." Oh, you'd think so, and I'd think so. But Jesus doesn't need anyone to tell Him the heart of man, because He knows what's in there (Jn. 2:25; Rev. 2:23).

So what Jesus sees John as needing (and what John actually did need), evidently, is a good, bracing shaking. He sees John as needing a splash of cold water in his face. Jesus is less concerned about John's feelings and his emotions and his mood than He is about his faith and his faithfulness.

I bring this up for your reflection, as I've reflected on it myself. Just ask yourself:  if Jesus was this"harsh" (as it seems to us) with such a favored and faithful servant, can it really be that shocking if He at times seems harsh in dealing with us lesser lights? Have there been times when you've thought Him a poor friend because He hasn't "shown up" as you would have done for one of your friends, because He didn't immediately relieve a depression, a distress, a difficulty, as you would have done for one of your loved ones?

Doesn't this give us good reason to re-think, to remember who's who, to remember that while Jesus almost always does give us exactly what we ask for, He reserves the right to give us something better (and therefore other) than what we think we need? Indeed, He does so regularly give us what we ask Him to give us, and does so frequently give us a good word from the Word directly or through others, or lets us get a peek of success or fruitfulness, that we get a bit spoiled, and expect Him to do it all the time. Then when He doesn't, we check in to Doubting Castle or its dark and dank environs.

I'm saying, we should think again. In looking back and making sense of our lives, or if we're there right now, we should think again. Like our Lord told John to do. Remember what you already know, but are forgetting. Think in faith, think with God's word and God's facts in view.

Just remember: it says He works all things together for our good (Rom. 8:28), and not necessarily for our definition of good on our schedule.

Seemingly harsh? Sometimes.

Good?

Always.

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Sister... show mercy! (Repost #4)

[I'm very grateful for the use God has made of this post. Many pastors, leaders, and others have requested permission to print this and hand it out; and many sisters have said they were going to share it around. I hope it's put to use in youth groups. Originally posted in 2006, it always receives a mixture of gracious and bizarre responses. Let me add this one word to husbands: you too. "Smokin' hot" wife, right? Praise God. So remember what it was like to be single. You know how guys are. You used to be one! So you show some mercy to your brothers. Sensitize your wife about showing love for her brothers in this important way. Read this with her. Help her to dress helpfully and mercifully. And fathers? Duh. Doug Wilson waggles his eyebrows at you and, this time, so do I. So here it is once again, slightly edited as usual.]

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Preface: "What are you? Nuts?!" Just thought I'd lead with the question you'll be wondering in a few minutes. I am about to stick my finger in the fan, about up to my elbow, and I know it. But I really think someone needs to say this — and why not me? I have less to lose than many who've thought the same thing, but daren't say it.

So here we go.

What will change, and what won't. Spring's sprung, and summer looms. Mercury rises, fashions change. But one thing that won't change, unless I'm happily mistaken: some good Christian sisters will not dress as helpfully as they could.

I chose that word with care: "helpfully." I am not talking about sin, shame, indecency, wantonness, or the like. Perhaps I could, with some justification. But that's for another time — and probably another writer. At this point, I just want to talk about being helpful.

Sister, if there's one thing you and I can certainly agree on, it's this: I don't know what it's like to be a woman, and you don't know what it's like to be a man. We're both probably wrong where we're sure we're right, try as we might. So let me try to dart a telegram from my camp over to the distaff side.

"Sheol and Abaddon are never satisfied, and never satisfied are the eyes of man" (Proverbs 27:20). Solomon doesn't use the Hebrew words that would indicate males exclusively, so this and Ecclesiastes 1:8 may apply across the gender-board. Libbie pointed out very ably that we men wrongly assume that we alone battle with temptations entering through the eye-gate.


But. But if men aren't alone in the battle, they may have a particular weakness for this aspect of it. Consider passionately-godly King David, whose psalms express aspirations after God beside which our own are pale, bloodless things. One day King David is in the wrong place, at the wrong time; sees a naked woman bathing next door, and boom! — he's gone (2 Samuel 11). Family, kingdom, God — all forgotten, consumed in the flash-flame of a lust that was only visual in its inception.

And what of that Israelite Philistine Samson and his own "eye trouble?" He sees a fetching young pagan, and bellows at his dad, "Get her for me, for she looks good to me" (Judges 14:3 NAS). Where did Samson's passions take him? How did his course end?

Unless all the men I've known personally or at a distance are completely unrepresentative, it's a lifelong struggle, a lifelong weakness. As I recall from a Proverbs lecture on mp3, Bruce Waltke says that his dad, at around age 100, told him, "Bruce, I still have the same struggles I did when I was 50." It was sobering for Dr. Waltke to hear; sobering for any man! (In fact, put me down for "disheartening.")

Where am I going with this? Oh, don't try to look so innocent. You know exactly where I'm going.

This is... church? So here comes this brother into the assembly of the saints, hoping for a rest from the battles of the week, a moment to regroup, sing, pray, get the Word, fellowship. He looks up to the choir, or to his left or his right — and in a tick of the clock, he's facing the same struggle he faced every time he turned on his TV, opened a magazine, or went down a city street. He's seeing things that make it far too easy for him not to keep his mind focused where it needs to be focused.

And he's not in a nightclub, he's not at a singles' bar, he's not at the beach. He's in church.

Now, some very direct disclaimers:

• Every man's sin is his own, and every man's struggle is his own (Proverbs 14:10).
• No one makes a man think or feel anything (Proverbs 4:23).
• It is each individual's responsibility to guard his own heart (Proverbs 4:23) and eyes (Job 31:1).
• Beauty is a wonderful gift of God (cf. Exodus 28:2; Song of Solomon 1:8, 15, etc.).

Having said all that: while it may be true that I'm the one holding the matches, you won't help me if you pile twigs all around my feet and douse them with lighter fluid. To be a little more specific: if you know I've had trouble with drunkenness, you won't wave a glass of wine in front of me tauntingly. If you know I battle covetousness, you won't take me window-shopping in high-end stores I've no business frequenting.

That is, you won't do those things if you love, if you care for me at all.

So I put this question: what are some sisters thinking, in how they dress?



"Attractive"? As the ladies pick clothes, they'll consider what's pretty, what's flattering, what's attractive. Who could blame them? But, "attractive" to whom? In what way? To what end? With what focus?

When I go fishing, I want my lure to attract trout so they will bite and get hooked, and I can kill them and eat them.

A business wants to attract buyers so they will spend money and acquire their product or service and make them rich.

By that blouse, those pants, that skirt — what are you trying to attract? Attract to what, so that they will focus on what and feel what, and want to do what?

Consider the questions again. "Is it pretty?" Fine question, no evil in it. "Is it comfortable, is it complimentary, is it fun?" No problem. I'd just suggest you add one more question: "Is it helpful, or is it hurtful, to my brothers in Christ? Will this unintentionally contribute to their having a focus that is harmful to their holy walk?"

Now, lookie here:

In that day the Lord will take away the finery of the anklets, the headbands, and the crescents; the pendants, the bracelets, and the scarves;  the headdresses, the armlets, the sashes, the perfume boxes, and the amulets; the signet rings and nose rings; the festal robes, the mantles, the cloaks, and the handbags; the mirrors, the linen garments, the turbans, and the veils (Isaiah 3:18-23)

...likewise also that women should adorn themselves in respectable apparel, with modesty and self-control, not with braided hair and gold or pearls or costly attire, but with what is proper for women who profess godliness--with good works (1 Timothy 2:9-10)

Do not let your adorning be external--the braiding of hair, the wearing of gold, or the putting on of clothing-- but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious (1 Peter 3:3-4)

What it isn't. Immediately we'll swing in, as we always do, and say, "Now, the writer's not saying that women can't dress nicely, or wear jewelry, or blah blah blah." And we'll all disown our Fundie forebears who focused on nylons and lipstick, and came up with precise hemline measurements. We'll want to make sure that we're not advocating a new line of Bible Burqaware™ for evangelical women. All that will be true and valid enough.But... what is it? But I'm concerned that, in our anxiety to be sure to prevent the wrong interpretation, we effectively cut off all interpretation. We have swung from making the passages say silly things, to not letting them say anything. These passages have to mean something! They must have some application! What is it?

Surely the passages warn against vanity, externality, sensuality; and promote a focus on a godly character as true beauty. Who you are; not just what you look like. Remember: "As a ring of gold in a swine's snout, So is a beautiful woman who lacks discretion" (Proverbs 11:22 NAS).

Oh boy, I'm going to make it worse now. Deep breath before the plunge, and....

Say what? What are your clothes saying about you, sister? What are they supposed to say to your brothers? "Hey, look at this?" Well, they actually are trying to look at the Lord; it's not good for them, not helpful for them, to be looking at that. No, it's not your fault that they have a problem. We established that. And it's really great that God has made you beautiful. May your husband (present or future) celebrate your beauty.

But, please hear me: you can help the brothers who aren't your husband, or you can not-help them. Which are you doing? If you're not married, and a man looks at you, is he thinking, "What a great character"? Or are you giving him reason to think something else about you is "great"?

I know many of the responses. I've heard them. "You don't know what it's like to buy women's clothes, you ignorant man!" Mostly true. My first just-for-fun purchase of (what I thought was) a pretty blue dress for my dear wife was... well, it was appalling. What a good sport my wife was. I took it back to the store immediately, and made a much better choice.

"I caaaan't." But this: "I can't find anything modest! It's all too revealing! It's impossible to get something that looks nice, yet isn't too tight, or too short, or too-something / not-something-enough!"

Sorry, but baloney.

I put modest women's clothing Christian in Google, and 31,900,000 results come up. (Up from  63,500 in 2010.) Yes, some are funny and quaint at best. But are they all Amishwear? "Can't find?" Really?

More fundamentally: I do not accept that anyone has to wear clothes that are too tight or too clingy or too sheer or too short — unless you are the largest and tallest woman living in the hottest part of the planet. Because I see larger, taller women than you walking around in hot weather, and they're all wearing clothes, every last one of them. They got those clothes somewhere, I reason. You could too.

"But — but they won't look good on me! The shoulders will be wrong!"

Need-to-not-know. I'm not sure that's necessarily true, but let's accept it and pose a counter-question. You tell me. Which is worse: your shoulders hanging a half-inch too low? Or a blouse/skirt that simply (shifting into turbo-delicate) provides need-to-know information to those with a need-to-not-know?

I'm sure we all agree that there are clothes that show off what others have no helpful business seeing. Here's what to show, in clothes-selection: show a Godward focus, discretion, a godly character.

And show mercy.

Parting thought. Darlene Johnson pointed me to a statement by Arthur Pink, which makes everything I've just said look awfully mild. But there's no denying that Pink has a point. I'll close with it:

Again, if lustful looking be so grievous a sin, then those who dress and expose themselves with desires to be looked at and lusted after-as Jezebel, who painted her face, tired her head, and looked out of the window (2 Kings 9:30)-are not less, but even more guilty. In this matter it is only too often the case that men sin, but women tempt them so to do. How great, then, must be the guilt of the great majority of the modern misses who deliberately seek to arouse the sexual passions of our young men? And how much greater still is the guilt of most of their mothers for allowing them to become lascivious temptresses?

Now, note, Pink and I speak to different audiences. I speak to those whom I charitably assume are inadvertently dressing in an unhelpful manner. Pink speaks to those whose intent is to allure. Between the two of us, I can pray we've provided food for thought, prayer, reconsideration, and needed change.

One last thought: it is a mistake to think I exclusively have church-attire in mind. That is lifted as a particularly egregious example of what-are-you-thinking? In what I say, I have in mind any place where both sexes are present.

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