Response: Hold up there, Turbo. If I listen to what you just said, I shouldn't be listening to what you want to say. Or to what you just said. So... I guess we're done here!
NEXT!
(Proverbs 21:22)
Showing posts with label humility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humility. Show all posts
18 September 2013
The Bible-only(-except-for-me!) dodge (NEXT! #37)
by Dan Phillips
Challenge: I care not for the words of mortal man. I only study the Bible. So let me tell you what I think the Bible says about...
Response: Hold up there, Turbo. If I listen to what you just said, I shouldn't be listening to what you want to say. Or to what you just said. So... I guess we're done here!
Response: Hold up there, Turbo. If I listen to what you just said, I shouldn't be listening to what you want to say. Or to what you just said. So... I guess we're done here!
01 August 2011
Why the Emergent "Movement" Keeps Stalling
by Phil Johnson
- For all their talk about community, Emergents are too individualistic to hang together.
- For all their talk about conversation, Emergents mainly just like to hear themselves prattle.
- For all their talk about humility, Emergents begin with an incorrigibly arrogant worldview.
24 May 2011
Humiliated and humbled: sadly, not synonyms
by Dan Phillips
Once there was a man with much to boast of; and boy, did he.
The man was builder/conqueror/despot Nebuchadnezzar. A dream, brought home by a genuine prophet, had warned him of the consequences of his arrogance and called him to humble himself before God (Dan. 4:2-27). Nebuchadnezzar shrugged off the prophet's pleas and doubled down (Dan. 4:28-33). The king was instantly humiliated by a word from Heaven, and spent seven periods of time (?; don't ask) living like an animal (Dan. 4:32-33), until he saw himself in true proportion to God (Dan. 4:34-36). Now Nebuchadnezzar wasn't so big, but God was.
In this case, Nebuchadnezzar was both (outwardly) humiliated, and (inwardly) humbled. That is, God undid him, and he received the message. It's actually a pretty happy story. Many believe ol' Nabu-kudurri-usur was saved through the encounter. Possible. Only God knows.
Too many of the similar stories I know, first-hand and second-, do not yet have such happy endings.
I know of a number of folks who have been massively and/or repeatedly humiliated, but never humbled. I could name politicians past and present, preachers past and present, religious bodies past and present, and individuals past or present. I could name a name leading the news recently. Some of these folks I've never met; some I knew (or thought I knew) as well as I will ever know anyone who isn't me.
In each case, the natural process of following (sinful) choice A led to (foolish) choice B, which then led to disaster. Anyone with two functional neurons to fire in sequence, observing the situation, could make the connection: A led to B; A is the root-problem. Humble yourself. "Own," then disown A.
But, see, children, here's a crucial axiom of fallen humanity. It should probably be added to the 25 Things I've Learned (which seem more timely than ever)... though that would mess up the title. But here it is:
There's only one way to be rid of a sin, and that way lies through repentance. Repentance is the way of humility. Repentance loves God, so it hates the sin. Repentance sees God as big, so it sees the sin as despicable. Repentance admits culpability, because it craves forgiveness — and only guilty people can be forgiven. Hence the need for "owning" — for confession — and for "disowning" through repentance.
By contrast, refusal to be rid of the sin inexorably takes one in the other direction. All defenses go up, and all assailants must be repulsed. Rationalization, blame-shifting, evasion, equivocation, lies, excuses... all these and many other baleful tools lie in the arsenal of the unrepentant.
Solomon's words, however, stand as true today as they were when first spoken and written:
Refuse to do so, and we will learn Nebuchadnezzar's lesson: that "those who walk in pride he is able to humble" (Dan. 4:37).
The fall back lesson is no less clear: if it comes to humiliation, take the message to heart. Don't be the last to know. Don't wait until the two saddest words in the English language become your epitaph:
UPDATE: see also this.
Once there was a man with much to boast of; and boy, did he.The man was builder/conqueror/despot Nebuchadnezzar. A dream, brought home by a genuine prophet, had warned him of the consequences of his arrogance and called him to humble himself before God (Dan. 4:2-27). Nebuchadnezzar shrugged off the prophet's pleas and doubled down (Dan. 4:28-33). The king was instantly humiliated by a word from Heaven, and spent seven periods of time (?; don't ask) living like an animal (Dan. 4:32-33), until he saw himself in true proportion to God (Dan. 4:34-36). Now Nebuchadnezzar wasn't so big, but God was.
In this case, Nebuchadnezzar was both (outwardly) humiliated, and (inwardly) humbled. That is, God undid him, and he received the message. It's actually a pretty happy story. Many believe ol' Nabu-kudurri-usur was saved through the encounter. Possible. Only God knows.
Too many of the similar stories I know, first-hand and second-, do not yet have such happy endings.
I know of a number of folks who have been massively and/or repeatedly humiliated, but never humbled. I could name politicians past and present, preachers past and present, religious bodies past and present, and individuals past or present. I could name a name leading the news recently. Some of these folks I've never met; some I knew (or thought I knew) as well as I will ever know anyone who isn't me.
In each case, the natural process of following (sinful) choice A led to (foolish) choice B, which then led to disaster. Anyone with two functional neurons to fire in sequence, observing the situation, could make the connection: A led to B; A is the root-problem. Humble yourself. "Own," then disown A.
But, see, children, here's a crucial axiom of fallen humanity. It should probably be added to the 25 Things I've Learned (which seem more timely than ever)... though that would mess up the title. But here it is:
Everyone caught in a sin will either repent, or double downSin snowballs.
There's only one way to be rid of a sin, and that way lies through repentance. Repentance is the way of humility. Repentance loves God, so it hates the sin. Repentance sees God as big, so it sees the sin as despicable. Repentance admits culpability, because it craves forgiveness — and only guilty people can be forgiven. Hence the need for "owning" — for confession — and for "disowning" through repentance.
By contrast, refusal to be rid of the sin inexorably takes one in the other direction. All defenses go up, and all assailants must be repulsed. Rationalization, blame-shifting, evasion, equivocation, lies, excuses... all these and many other baleful tools lie in the arsenal of the unrepentant.
Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper,...and its companion warning:
but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy
(Proverbs 28:13)
One who becomes stiff-necked, after many reprimandsThe lesson to us is clear: we should humble ourselves, lest we be humiliated. "Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you," Peter admonishes (1 Pet. 5:6).
will be shattered instantly— beyond recovery
(Proverbs 29:1 CSB)
Refuse to do so, and we will learn Nebuchadnezzar's lesson: that "those who walk in pride he is able to humble" (Dan. 4:37).
The fall back lesson is no less clear: if it comes to humiliation, take the message to heart. Don't be the last to know. Don't wait until the two saddest words in the English language become your epitaph:
"Too late"
UPDATE: see also this.
03 February 2010
Constant Criticism
by Frank Turk
Before you read too far, let me admit upfront that this post is two things: an adaptation of a post I made at my blog in 2008, and a rider on the theme Dan and Phil have been setting up this week so far. So if it reads a little familiar, thanks for being a studious reader of my blog. For the other 3,000 of you, let's proceed.
Back when this post was fresh, Rick Warren (RW) had just called Mark Driscoll (MD)to tell him what a fine lad he was for having the guts to make scatalogical jokes about Jesus from the pulpit while MD was in a time of particularly-intense criticism, and he gave MD a little advice. Among the gems MD communicated on his blog was this item:
What it does do is make it public, and the question then is "will anyone read it?"
If some guy named, um, "centuri0n" sets up a blog and starts saying that Rick Warren has 3 wives and practices Shinto in his basement at an altar to his father's father, the first question is, "did anyone really read that?" And the second question is, "can that be proven at all?"
That guy with a blog may never delete his blog, but if no one ever reads it, the only one who will judge him for it is Christ -- which is, of course, certainly bad enough. The tree fell in the woods, and nobody else cared. So "permanent" is a bizarre category for what is different about criticism today.
I'd also like to add that the attribute of "constant" criticism is only born by those who are doing something which somehow keeps drawing attention -- usually to their foibles or errors. For example, I am unaware of Mark Dever having to field "constant" criticism -- unless I should have read [insert your fav watchblogger here] lately or something.
Let me suggest that pastors who are "constantly" in the scopes of critics either have established themselves as opponents of a very active but vulnerable enemy, or they are doing something which deserves criticism. There may be a third choice, but I'll bet if you can find one, it's really the first choice.
For example, there was a time when Phil Johnson took a lot of guff from Fundamentalists. Phil had made some statements -- which he stands by -- criticizing the problems with their movement, and the defenders of Fundamentalism came out of the woodwork. The problem, however, was that Fundamentalism was both very active (in numbers, anyway) but also very vulnerable -- and the advocates for such a thing had to try to push Phil over because, well, if he's right the movement was dead, dying, or worse.
The other example I'd tender is Joel Osteen. Why does Joel take guff from people as diverse as Michael Horton and Steve Camp? It's because Joel is off the apple cart, out of the street, down the storm drain, and rolling down into the swamp outside town.
Criticism is not just hard to bear because it seems to come often. It is hard to bear either when it is the truth or resembles the truth enough to cause us to pause. False criticism is pretty easy to bear unless it costs us money or prison time -- the rest of the time (like when people call me "mean") it's good for a laugh just to see how far someone will take their imaginary world.
And here's the punch-line: how we behave when we are criticized tells us a lot about who we are as people.
There's plenty to work out from that statement, but I leave it to you, the reader, to help a brother out in the comments. I have work to do today, and I hope to be back at lunch to help sort out some of what is bound to happen while I'm out.
Ahem. Case in point
So I get an e-mail from a fellow blogger (he'll remain nameless so that this good deed at least will go unpunished) who asks me if maybe I didn't say something I shouldn't have said in describing the encounter between MD and RW. To be honest, I think I was probably glib. So on the good advice of a person who had a valid criticism, I have offered a revision.
I have a real uneasiness about completely revising the stuff I post on the internet with no indication that it has been revised, so I have put STRIKE marks through the offending text and put my revision of it immediately after.
Please note it for future reference.
So I get an e-mail from a fellow blogger (he'll remain nameless so that this good deed at least will go unpunished) who asks me if maybe I didn't say something I shouldn't have said in describing the encounter between MD and RW. To be honest, I think I was probably glib. So on the good advice of a person who had a valid criticism, I have offered a revision.
I have a real uneasiness about completely revising the stuff I post on the internet with no indication that it has been revised, so I have put STRIKE marks through the offending text and put my revision of it immediately after.
Please note it for future reference.
Before you read too far, let me admit upfront that this post is two things: an adaptation of a post I made at my blog in 2008, and a rider on the theme Dan and Phil have been setting up this week so far. So if it reads a little familiar, thanks for being a studious reader of my blog. For the other 3,000 of you, let's proceed.Back when this post was fresh, Rick Warren (RW) had just called Mark Driscoll (MD)
However, Warren said, in our day criticism is marked by the following four factors:He forgot "mean" and "impersonal" (meaning "they don't apologize for disagreeing", and "they don't call you on the phone first"), but I take exception to the idea that internet criticism is "permanent". Blogging, or erecting a web site, for the sake of some argument or issue doesn't make it "permanent" any more than getting your book published makes its contents "permanent".
1.Instant
2.Constant
3.Global
4.Permanent
What it does do is make it public, and the question then is "will anyone read it?"
If some guy named, um, "centuri0n" sets up a blog and starts saying that Rick Warren has 3 wives and practices Shinto in his basement at an altar to his father's father, the first question is, "did anyone really read that?" And the second question is, "can that be proven at all?"
That guy with a blog may never delete his blog, but if no one ever reads it, the only one who will judge him for it is Christ -- which is, of course, certainly bad enough. The tree fell in the woods, and nobody else cared. So "permanent" is a bizarre category for what is different about criticism today.
I'd also like to add that the attribute of "constant" criticism is only born by those who are doing something which somehow keeps drawing attention -- usually to their foibles or errors. For example, I am unaware of Mark Dever having to field "constant" criticism -- unless I should have read [insert your fav watchblogger here] lately or something.Let me suggest that pastors who are "constantly" in the scopes of critics either have established themselves as opponents of a very active but vulnerable enemy, or they are doing something which deserves criticism. There may be a third choice, but I'll bet if you can find one, it's really the first choice.
For example, there was a time when Phil Johnson took a lot of guff from Fundamentalists. Phil had made some statements -- which he stands by -- criticizing the problems with their movement, and the defenders of Fundamentalism came out of the woodwork. The problem, however, was that Fundamentalism was both very active (in numbers, anyway) but also very vulnerable -- and the advocates for such a thing had to try to push Phil over because, well, if he's right the movement was dead, dying, or worse.
The other example I'd tender is Joel Osteen. Why does Joel take guff from people as diverse as Michael Horton and Steve Camp? It's because Joel is off the apple cart, out of the street, down the storm drain, and rolling down into the swamp outside town.
Criticism is not just hard to bear because it seems to come often. It is hard to bear either when it is the truth or resembles the truth enough to cause us to pause. False criticism is pretty easy to bear unless it costs us money or prison time -- the rest of the time (like when people call me "mean") it's good for a laugh just to see how far someone will take their imaginary world.
And here's the punch-line: how we behave when we are criticized tells us a lot about who we are as people.
There's plenty to work out from that statement, but I leave it to you, the reader, to help a brother out in the comments. I have work to do today, and I hope to be back at lunch to help sort out some of what is bound to happen while I'm out.
02 February 2010
Real humility, real arrogance
by Dan Phillips
I'm going to tag-team off of Phil's fine post from yesterday.
It chafes to be on the wrong end of an unfair comparison. Your parents think your sibling is the best little child because (s)he's a skilled kiss-up, and they don't hear the seditious chatter that starts up the moment they leave the room. Or you try to be a godly wife and mother who uses her abilities to the full in service of God and your family — but you know that society sees you as pathetic and servile, favoring instead aggressive, un-feminine, ungodly women.
Or you're a Christian who takes his stand on the Word of God, knowing you're seen as arrogant, blind and proud, while doctrinaire ditherers and world-loving compromisers enjoy a reputation for humble, open-minded intelligence.
The stance of the Word on the matter is plain and univocal, more than one post can do justice. But we'll give it a whack.
Let's start by way of Hebrews 11. We all know that the men and women in that chapter were flawed, yet they are held up as examples. In what way are they examples? In their weakness and vacillation? Not at all, but "by [faith] the people of old received their commendation" (v. 2).
Again and again, the writer focuses on the faith that motivated the believers of old, and describes them as those "who through faith conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight" (vv. 33-34). It was as they were nerved, strengthened, and moved to action by resolute faith that they served as models.
So cast your mind back to Psalm 1. You know the characteristic of the blessed man: rather than join in the walk and worldview of the wicked, he delights in and dwells on God's Word. To what does God liken him? To a tree, transplanted by streams of water (v. 3).
Think of trees. They're boring! They just stand there. And stand there, and stand there, and stand there. Imperceptibly, yet steadily, they grow and bear fruit — but their characteristics are (1) life, (2) fruitfulness, and (3) a certain immobility.
Much more exciting is the chaff. Watch the chaff driven by the wind: now here, now there, ever in motion, ever moving, ever dynamic — ever dead. See, that's why it's so mobile. It has no roots, no life, and no future (vv. 4-5).
If David wrote Psalm 119, he weighs in again on this subject from another angle:
And there is the soul of pride: God has spoken, but it is not convicting, not compelling, not enough.
Thus it ever was. Satan started right there: the conversation-starting open inquiry "Did God really say?" soon led to "God was wrong."
Very little has changed. When you hear A, start looking for B.
The believing perspective is the opposite. The believer is the one who finds God's word utterly sufficient, and utterly compelling. "The lion has roared; who will not fear? The Lord GOD has spoken; who can but prophesy?" (Amos 3:8).
Comes the New Covenant and Jesus, and nothing has changed. Jesus has no praise for the restless wanderer, but does pronounce blessing on the one who hears, heeds, and builds his (boring, immobile, stable) house on His words (Matthew 7:24-27).
So His apostle will want to see believers who are — not constantly flitting hither and yon from fad to fad, but — resistant to winds of doctrine in their steady growth (Ephesians 4:13-14), and stable in their walks (Colossians 2:2-10). What he wants is for them to "be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain" (1 Corinthians 15:58).
Nor is it a matter of indifference to the apostle of Christ. The Gospel is specific and not-other. If let slip, it will not save (1 Corinthians 15:1-2). If perverted, it brings damnation (Galatians 1:8-9).
It is interesting that this stance will infuriate compromised ditherers not content to take the minority position. The psalmist notes, "The insolent smear me with lies, but with my whole heart I keep your precepts" (Psalm 119:69). Desperate to shush their throbbing conscience or quiet the fears of God's judgment, they must slander those whose example stings them.
So they lie about us. It can't be that we really just plain old believe God, it must be a holier-than-thou pose. It can't be that we are so aware of what benighted idiots we are that no other place is a safe place for us, no other stance is possible for us than to stand on the word. It must be that we're actually arrogant and proud and stubborn.
In other words, it has to be about something other than what it really is about.
God's stance is very plain. He in no way calls dithery, compromising instability "humility." In fact, listen to what He does so categorize: "But this is the one to whom I will look: he who is humble and contrite in spirit and trembles at my word" (Isaiah 66 2b).
So, in sum:
The soul of humility is to seek a clear word from God, and respond with "Amen" — that is, to find it, and stand on it without compromise or apology. It is about God and His glory.
The soul of arrogance is to take a clear word of God, and respond with "Has God really said?" — that is, to put energies into defending compromise, dithering, uncertainty, unbelief. It is about man and his straying.
God grant us true humility as He defines humility.
I'm going to tag-team off of Phil's fine post from yesterday.
It chafes to be on the wrong end of an unfair comparison. Your parents think your sibling is the best little child because (s)he's a skilled kiss-up, and they don't hear the seditious chatter that starts up the moment they leave the room. Or you try to be a godly wife and mother who uses her abilities to the full in service of God and your family — but you know that society sees you as pathetic and servile, favoring instead aggressive, un-feminine, ungodly women.
The stance of the Word on the matter is plain and univocal, more than one post can do justice. But we'll give it a whack.
Let's start by way of Hebrews 11. We all know that the men and women in that chapter were flawed, yet they are held up as examples. In what way are they examples? In their weakness and vacillation? Not at all, but "by [faith] the people of old received their commendation" (v. 2).
Again and again, the writer focuses on the faith that motivated the believers of old, and describes them as those "who through faith conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight" (vv. 33-34). It was as they were nerved, strengthened, and moved to action by resolute faith that they served as models.
So cast your mind back to Psalm 1. You know the characteristic of the blessed man: rather than join in the walk and worldview of the wicked, he delights in and dwells on God's Word. To what does God liken him? To a tree, transplanted by streams of water (v. 3).
Think of trees. They're boring! They just stand there. And stand there, and stand there, and stand there. Imperceptibly, yet steadily, they grow and bear fruit — but their characteristics are (1) life, (2) fruitfulness, and (3) a certain immobility.
Much more exciting is the chaff. Watch the chaff driven by the wind: now here, now there, ever in motion, ever moving, ever dynamic — ever dead. See, that's why it's so mobile. It has no roots, no life, and no future (vv. 4-5).
If David wrote Psalm 119, he weighs in again on this subject from another angle:
You rebuke the insolent, accursed ones,Three times we see the insolent, who are arrogant and presumptuous. What characterizes them? God's word is not enough for them. They wander from God's commandments, they turn away from His law, they do not live according to His revelation.
who wander from your commandments (Psalm 119:21)
The insolent utterly deride me,
but I do not turn away from your law (Psalm 119:51)
The insolent have dug pitfalls for me;
they do not live according to your law (Psalm 119:85)
And there is the soul of pride: God has spoken, but it is not convicting, not compelling, not enough.
Thus it ever was. Satan started right there: the conversation-starting open inquiry "Did God really say?" soon led to "God was wrong."Very little has changed. When you hear A, start looking for B.
The believing perspective is the opposite. The believer is the one who finds God's word utterly sufficient, and utterly compelling. "The lion has roared; who will not fear? The Lord GOD has spoken; who can but prophesy?" (Amos 3:8).
Comes the New Covenant and Jesus, and nothing has changed. Jesus has no praise for the restless wanderer, but does pronounce blessing on the one who hears, heeds, and builds his (boring, immobile, stable) house on His words (Matthew 7:24-27).
So His apostle will want to see believers who are — not constantly flitting hither and yon from fad to fad, but — resistant to winds of doctrine in their steady growth (Ephesians 4:13-14), and stable in their walks (Colossians 2:2-10). What he wants is for them to "be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain" (1 Corinthians 15:58).
Nor is it a matter of indifference to the apostle of Christ. The Gospel is specific and not-other. If let slip, it will not save (1 Corinthians 15:1-2). If perverted, it brings damnation (Galatians 1:8-9).
It is interesting that this stance will infuriate compromised ditherers not content to take the minority position. The psalmist notes, "The insolent smear me with lies, but with my whole heart I keep your precepts" (Psalm 119:69). Desperate to shush their throbbing conscience or quiet the fears of God's judgment, they must slander those whose example stings them.
In other words, it has to be about something other than what it really is about.
God's stance is very plain. He in no way calls dithery, compromising instability "humility." In fact, listen to what He does so categorize: "But this is the one to whom I will look: he who is humble and contrite in spirit and trembles at my word" (Isaiah 66 2b).
So, in sum:
The soul of humility is to seek a clear word from God, and respond with "Amen" — that is, to find it, and stand on it without compromise or apology. It is about God and His glory.
The soul of arrogance is to take a clear word of God, and respond with "Has God really said?" — that is, to put energies into defending compromise, dithering, uncertainty, unbelief. It is about man and his straying.
God grant us true humility as He defines humility.
18 September 2009
Transparency
by Phil Johnson
f you have been reading the blog very long, this shouldn't come as any surprise:
I'm not impressed with the postmodern notion of transparency as a substitute for the old-fashioned (and biblical) virtue of humility.
Dan Phillips shares my point of view. Last year he posted a three-part series on the subject.
The type of transparency I'm speaking of is that faux-honesty so often used as an excuse for voicing various kinds of complaints, doubts, accusations, fleshly desires, and other kinds of evil thoughts. This exhibitionistic "virtue" is often paired with a smug self-congratulatory sneer or a condescending dismissal of anyone who dares to suggest that propriety and spiritual maturity may sometimes require us not to give voice to every carnal thought or emotion—i.e., that sometimes discretion is better than transparency.
Here's a biblical case-study that goes against conventional postmodern "wisdom": In Psalm 73, Asaph is rehearsing the confusion he felt over the reality that wicked people sometimes prosper while righteous people suffer. He says:
A note of resentment against God? A model of the very kind of transparency I decry? Sure sounds like it, huh? He continues:
Self-pity, too. Wow! Is that not a classic example of brilliant, transparent, postmodern confessional writing? The psalmist is venting his spleen, giving voice to his doubts, teaching us that it's OK to broadcast whatever doubts and resentments we maybe harboring against God. Right?
Well, not exactly. In fact, the point Asaph is making is precisely the opposite: "If I had said, 'I will speak thus,' I would have betrayed the generation of your children" (v. 15).
In other words, Asaph confesses that if he had broadcast his doubts before resolving them, it would have been a sinful act of betrayal against God and against the children of God.
Asaph is actually testifying about how he resolved those doubts and resentments: "But when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I discerned their end" (vv. 16-17).
He has acquired a decidedly un-postmodern kind of confident faith. He reaches a settled certainty about the very things he was tempted to doubt. Then he goes on to explain to his readers that the state of the wicked is not as comfortable as it appears to carnal eyes. He's spreading his new-found faith; not soliciting companions who share his doubts.
So this psalm is not an apologia for the sort of "transparency" whose only aim is to vent in a way that aims to legitimize skepticism; it's a condemnation of precisely that sort of intemperance.
There's nothing vague or confusing about the point Asaph is really making. As a matter of fact, the whole psalm starts with an explicit statement of his main thesis: "Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart."
Selah.
PS: Some random notes in passing: Longtime Pyro reader David Kjos thinks my Tweets are boring, and another blogger lists PyroManiacs in some rarefied company. Meanwhile, we came up tenth in a category we didn't even know we belonged to—"Church blogs." And did anyone notice our hit counter went over 3 million this week? Keep your feedback coming. It motivates us to do better.
f you have been reading the blog very long, this shouldn't come as any surprise:I'm not impressed with the postmodern notion of transparency as a substitute for the old-fashioned (and biblical) virtue of humility.
Dan Phillips shares my point of view. Last year he posted a three-part series on the subject.
The type of transparency I'm speaking of is that faux-honesty so often used as an excuse for voicing various kinds of complaints, doubts, accusations, fleshly desires, and other kinds of evil thoughts. This exhibitionistic "virtue" is often paired with a smug self-congratulatory sneer or a condescending dismissal of anyone who dares to suggest that propriety and spiritual maturity may sometimes require us not to give voice to every carnal thought or emotion—i.e., that sometimes discretion is better than transparency.
Here's a biblical case-study that goes against conventional postmodern "wisdom": In Psalm 73, Asaph is rehearsing the confusion he felt over the reality that wicked people sometimes prosper while righteous people suffer. He says:
I was envious of the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. For they have no pangs until death; their bodies are fat and sleek. They are not in trouble as others are; they are not stricken like the rest of mankind. Therefore pride is their necklace; violence covers them as a garment. Their eyes swell out through fatness; their hearts overflow with follies. They scoff and speak with malice; loftily they threaten oppression. They set their mouths against the heavens, and their tongue struts through the earth. Therefore his people turn back to them, and find no fault in them. And they say, "How can God know? Is there knowledge in the Most High?" Behold, these are the wicked; always at ease, they increase in riches. (Psalm 73:3-12)
A note of resentment against God? A model of the very kind of transparency I decry? Sure sounds like it, huh? He continues:
All in vain have I kept my heart clean and washed my hands in innocence. For all the day long I have been stricken and rebuked every morning.
Self-pity, too. Wow! Is that not a classic example of brilliant, transparent, postmodern confessional writing? The psalmist is venting his spleen, giving voice to his doubts, teaching us that it's OK to broadcast whatever doubts and resentments we maybe harboring against God. Right?
Well, not exactly. In fact, the point Asaph is making is precisely the opposite: "If I had said, 'I will speak thus,' I would have betrayed the generation of your children" (v. 15).In other words, Asaph confesses that if he had broadcast his doubts before resolving them, it would have been a sinful act of betrayal against God and against the children of God.
Asaph is actually testifying about how he resolved those doubts and resentments: "But when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I discerned their end" (vv. 16-17).
He has acquired a decidedly un-postmodern kind of confident faith. He reaches a settled certainty about the very things he was tempted to doubt. Then he goes on to explain to his readers that the state of the wicked is not as comfortable as it appears to carnal eyes. He's spreading his new-found faith; not soliciting companions who share his doubts.
So this psalm is not an apologia for the sort of "transparency" whose only aim is to vent in a way that aims to legitimize skepticism; it's a condemnation of precisely that sort of intemperance.
There's nothing vague or confusing about the point Asaph is really making. As a matter of fact, the whole psalm starts with an explicit statement of his main thesis: "Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart."
Selah.
PS: Some random notes in passing: Longtime Pyro reader David Kjos thinks my Tweets are boring, and another blogger lists PyroManiacs in some rarefied company. Meanwhile, we came up tenth in a category we didn't even know we belonged to—"Church blogs." And did anyone notice our hit counter went over 3 million this week? Keep your feedback coming. It motivates us to do better.
12 January 2009
We're Living Proof that Depravity is Total
by Phil Johnson
ere's the closing zinger from an article in this weekend's New York Times Magazine:
Reading that sentence made me feel a little like David must have felt when he was on the receiving end of Shimei's angry tirade in
2 Samuel 16:5-13. While I don't think it's a fair evaluation of Calvinism per se, there's enough truth in the remark to warrant a humble acceptance of the rebuke.
We can quibble about the "always." We can also argue that Mark Driscoll (he's who the article is about) is atypical in just about every way. We can point out that "Calvinism" is by no means the root of the Mars-Hill-Seattle idiosyncrasies the NYT writer was criticizing. We can also plead that in a postmodern world where doubt has been canonized as a virtue, any sort of strong conviction is going to be dismissed as "arrogant."
Still, that remark about Calvinistic arrogance has too much truth in it to be dismissed completely.
What do you think? Talk amongst yourselves.
(And let's not make this thread about Driscoll, OK?)
ere's the closing zinger from an article in this weekend's New York Times Magazine:[The] New Calvinism underscores a curious fact: the doctrine of total human depravity has always had a funny way of emboldening, rather than humbling, its adherents.
Reading that sentence made me feel a little like David must have felt when he was on the receiving end of Shimei's angry tirade in
2 Samuel 16:5-13. While I don't think it's a fair evaluation of Calvinism per se, there's enough truth in the remark to warrant a humble acceptance of the rebuke.
We can quibble about the "always." We can also argue that Mark Driscoll (he's who the article is about) is atypical in just about every way. We can point out that "Calvinism" is by no means the root of the Mars-Hill-Seattle idiosyncrasies the NYT writer was criticizing. We can also plead that in a postmodern world where doubt has been canonized as a virtue, any sort of strong conviction is going to be dismissed as "arrogant."
Still, that remark about Calvinistic arrogance has too much truth in it to be dismissed completely.
What do you think? Talk amongst yourselves.
(And let's not make this thread about Driscoll, OK?)
09 November 2008
A 19th-Century Preacher Confronts Postmodernism. Again.
Your weekly dose of Spurgeon
posted by Phil Johnson
omeone demands, "How am I to know which is the gospel?"
You may know it by searching the Scriptures.
"But one sect says this, and another sect says the reverse."
What have you to do with the sects? Read the Book of God for yourself.
"But some men do read it and arrive at one opinion, and some maintain the opposite, and thus they contradict themselves, and yet are equally right."
Who told you that? That is impossible. Men cannot be equally right when they contradict each other. There is a truth and there is a falsehood; if yes be true, no is false. It may be true that good men have held different opinions, but are you responsible for what they may have held, or are you to gather that because they were good personally, therefore everything they believed was true? No, but this Book is plain enough; it is no nose of wax that everybody may shape to what form he likes. There is something taught here plainly and positively, and if a man will but give his mind to it, by God's grace he may find it out.
I do not believe that this Book is so dark and mysterious as some suppose, or, if it were, the Holy Spirit who wrote it still lives, and the Author always knows his own meaning: you have only to go to him in prayer, and he will tell you what it means. You will not become infallible, I trust you will not think yourself to be so, but you will learn doctrines which are infallibly true, and upon which you may put down your foot and say, "Now, I know this, and am not to be duped out of it."
It is a grand thing to have the truth burnt into you, as with a hot iron, so that there is no getting it out of you. The priest, when he took away the Testament from the boy, thought he had done the work; "But," said the boy, "sir, what will you do with the six-and twenty chapters which I learned by heart? You cannot take them away." Yet memory might fail, and, as the lad grew into an old man, he might forget the six-and-twenty chapters; but suppose they changed his heart and made him a new creature in Christ, there would be no getting that away, even though Satan himself should attempt the task.
Seek to carry out the sacred trust committed to you by believing it, and believing it all. Search the word to find out what the gospel is, and endeavor to receive it into your inmost heart, that it may be in your heart's core forever.
ext, as good stewards we must maintain the cause of truth against all comers.
"Never get into religious controversies," says one; that is to say, being interpreted, be a Christian soldier, but let your sword rust in its scabbard, and sneak into heaven like a coward.
Such advice I cannot endorse. If God has called you by the truth, maintain the truth, which has been the means of your salvation. We are not to be pugnacious, always contending for every crotchet of our own; but wherein we have learned the truth of the Holy Spirit, we are not tamely to see that standard torn down which our fathers upheld at peril of their blood.
This is an age in which truth must be maintained zealously, vehemently, continually. Playing fast and loose as many do, believing this to-day and that to-morrow, is the sure mark of children of wrath; but having received the truth, to hold fast the very form of it, as Paul bids Timothy to do, is one of the duties of heirs of heaven. Stand fast for truth, and may God give the victory to the faithful.
We must believe the gospel and maintain it, for it is committed to our trust.
posted by Phil Johnson
The PyroManiacs devote some space each weekend to highlights from The Spurgeon Archive. The following excerpt is from the sermon "The Glorious Gospel of the Blessed God," preached Sunday morning, 30 June 1867, at Camden Road Chapel, London. In that sermon, Spurgeon carried on an imaginary dialogue with the "epistemological humility" of his day.
omeone demands, "How am I to know which is the gospel?"You may know it by searching the Scriptures.
"But one sect says this, and another sect says the reverse."
What have you to do with the sects? Read the Book of God for yourself.
"But some men do read it and arrive at one opinion, and some maintain the opposite, and thus they contradict themselves, and yet are equally right."
Who told you that? That is impossible. Men cannot be equally right when they contradict each other. There is a truth and there is a falsehood; if yes be true, no is false. It may be true that good men have held different opinions, but are you responsible for what they may have held, or are you to gather that because they were good personally, therefore everything they believed was true? No, but this Book is plain enough; it is no nose of wax that everybody may shape to what form he likes. There is something taught here plainly and positively, and if a man will but give his mind to it, by God's grace he may find it out.
I do not believe that this Book is so dark and mysterious as some suppose, or, if it were, the Holy Spirit who wrote it still lives, and the Author always knows his own meaning: you have only to go to him in prayer, and he will tell you what it means. You will not become infallible, I trust you will not think yourself to be so, but you will learn doctrines which are infallibly true, and upon which you may put down your foot and say, "Now, I know this, and am not to be duped out of it."
It is a grand thing to have the truth burnt into you, as with a hot iron, so that there is no getting it out of you. The priest, when he took away the Testament from the boy, thought he had done the work; "But," said the boy, "sir, what will you do with the six-and twenty chapters which I learned by heart? You cannot take them away." Yet memory might fail, and, as the lad grew into an old man, he might forget the six-and-twenty chapters; but suppose they changed his heart and made him a new creature in Christ, there would be no getting that away, even though Satan himself should attempt the task.
Seek to carry out the sacred trust committed to you by believing it, and believing it all. Search the word to find out what the gospel is, and endeavor to receive it into your inmost heart, that it may be in your heart's core forever.
ext, as good stewards we must maintain the cause of truth against all comers."Never get into religious controversies," says one; that is to say, being interpreted, be a Christian soldier, but let your sword rust in its scabbard, and sneak into heaven like a coward.
Such advice I cannot endorse. If God has called you by the truth, maintain the truth, which has been the means of your salvation. We are not to be pugnacious, always contending for every crotchet of our own; but wherein we have learned the truth of the Holy Spirit, we are not tamely to see that standard torn down which our fathers upheld at peril of their blood.
This is an age in which truth must be maintained zealously, vehemently, continually. Playing fast and loose as many do, believing this to-day and that to-morrow, is the sure mark of children of wrath; but having received the truth, to hold fast the very form of it, as Paul bids Timothy to do, is one of the duties of heirs of heaven. Stand fast for truth, and may God give the victory to the faithful.
We must believe the gospel and maintain it, for it is committed to our trust.
12 May 2008
Deja Vu All Over Again
by Phil Johnson
xactly a year ago, I was in precisely the same position I am in right now: burdened with deadlines and commitments, unsure of how I would ever get everything done, and generally over-stressed. One of several Swords of Damocles hanging over my head last year was an overdue chapter I had agreed to contribute to a book on evangelical postmodernism edited by Ron Gleason and Gary Johnson. I had worked on that chapter almost every spare minute during my teaching time in Italy but had not finished it, so it was the first thing I had to do after returning to the States. Almost a year ago to the day, I posted an excerpt from one of my footnotes to save having to write a blogpost.
Anyway, that book is titled Reforming or Conforming?: Post-Conservative Evangelicals and the Emerging Church (with a Foreword by David F. Wells). For some reason (which I hope was unrelated to my chapter), the book's release was delayed for nearly a year, and it is now slated for this coming September. I received a .pdf copy of the entire book while in Italy this year (just last week), so I'm now reading the full book for the first time. The chapters I have read so far are amazingly good and insightful. Since I contributed a chapter, I won't attempt an objective review of the whole book, but watch for it. It will definitely be worth your time.
Meanwhile, I'm going to do the same thing I did last year in order to avoid having to write a real blogpost today. I'm going to quote another excerpt from my chapter (which, incidentally, is titled "Joy-Riding on the Downgrade at Breakneck Speed: The Dark Side of Diversity"):
xactly a year ago, I was in precisely the same position I am in right now: burdened with deadlines and commitments, unsure of how I would ever get everything done, and generally over-stressed. One of several Swords of Damocles hanging over my head last year was an overdue chapter I had agreed to contribute to a book on evangelical postmodernism edited by Ron Gleason and Gary Johnson. I had worked on that chapter almost every spare minute during my teaching time in Italy but had not finished it, so it was the first thing I had to do after returning to the States. Almost a year ago to the day, I posted an excerpt from one of my footnotes to save having to write a blogpost.Anyway, that book is titled Reforming or Conforming?: Post-Conservative Evangelicals and the Emerging Church (with a Foreword by David F. Wells). For some reason (which I hope was unrelated to my chapter), the book's release was delayed for nearly a year, and it is now slated for this coming September. I received a .pdf copy of the entire book while in Italy this year (just last week), so I'm now reading the full book for the first time. The chapters I have read so far are amazingly good and insightful. Since I contributed a chapter, I won't attempt an objective review of the whole book, but watch for it. It will definitely be worth your time.Meanwhile, I'm going to do the same thing I did last year in order to avoid having to write a real blogpost today. I'm going to quote another excerpt from my chapter (which, incidentally, is titled "Joy-Riding on the Downgrade at Breakneck Speed: The Dark Side of Diversity"):
|
06 December 2007
Scariest man ever
by Dan Phillips
Who would you name?
Saul of Kish would be a good candidate. Such a promising beginning. Humble, modest, unambitious (1 Samuel 9:21; 10:20-22). Chosen by God, moved upon by the Spirit of God (1 Samuel 10:1, 10). Yet such a wretched, sad end to his life.
But no, Saul is not my candidate. You'll have long since guessed my proposal: Judas Iscariot. Most terrifying man who ever lived.
Such promise, such privilege; unlimited access to Truth Incarnate such as we can scarce even imagine.
And yet this is what he comes to:
And now, when we think of Judas, we think of this, we think of what came of this. Not of the preaching, the following, the miracle-ministry. No, Judas' name is the eponym of a traitor. We remember his treachery, and we remember his foul kiss.
But what was Judas? Was he an alien being, a creature from another race? No, he was a man, a human being, a child of Adam as you are, and as I am. In fact, but for the grace of God, he was just precisely like us.
If our theology enables us to read Judas' tale without a shudder and an earnest prayer, I daresay something vital is missing.
We may draw this observation: a man can be known for what comes of his devotion to God — or for what comes of his being a willing tool for Satan.
Judas Iscariot. Scariest man who ever lived.
Yet pause just one moment longer. I see in the shadows there a man who could be Judas' twin in some ways. He too was a big talker. He too was privileged, even more so than Judas.
He too caved, buckled, gave way before the trial. He too denied his Lord, and not once, nor twice, but thrice.
We remember his name, as well: Peter. "The Rock." We chuckled when we say it, and shake our heads, because of how "The Rock" crumbled.
But here's the difference. Judas' betrayal was his final act in relation to Christ. Peter's was not. Christ had prayed for Peter (Luke 22:32), and Peter repented, was restored. The book of Acts shows in Peter the fruits of repentance, of a genuine change of heart and mind.
If Judas is the scariest man who ever lived (and he is), then what is Peter? The most humbling man who ever lived, as we see our big mouths and lofty promises — and our feet of clay — in
him?
Or possibly the most encouraging man who ever lived, because his repentance found forgiveness and restoration in the Lord's grand heart?
Both men rebuke the smug. Both men rebuke the overconfident. Both both men point us to Christ, to our need to walk with the Lord now, rather than rest on memories of having walked with Him yesterday.
A vivid view of these two men gives the appropriate edge to the words of Hebrews:
Who would you name?
Saul of Kish would be a good candidate. Such a promising beginning. Humble, modest, unambitious (1 Samuel 9:21; 10:20-22). Chosen by God, moved upon by the Spirit of God (1 Samuel 10:1, 10). Yet such a wretched, sad end to his life.
But no, Saul is not my candidate. You'll have long since guessed my proposal: Judas Iscariot. Most terrifying man who ever lived.
Such promise, such privilege; unlimited access to Truth Incarnate such as we can scarce even imagine.
And yet this is what he comes to:
"Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot, who was of the number of the twelve" (Luke 22:3)And now, whatever Judas' childhood, his youth, his other accomplishments; whatever it took to bring Judas to this point or make him the man he was, everything is erased and overshadowed by this one event: Satan found in him a willing host. All his yesterdays do not matter. Whatever his family, his friends; his accomplishments, his hopes, his dreams. All are blotted out. All that remains is this: Satan himself made Judas his base of operations from which he could launch a killing strike on the Son of God.
And now, when we think of Judas, we think of this, we think of what came of this. Not of the preaching, the following, the miracle-ministry. No, Judas' name is the eponym of a traitor. We remember his treachery, and we remember his foul kiss.But what was Judas? Was he an alien being, a creature from another race? No, he was a man, a human being, a child of Adam as you are, and as I am. In fact, but for the grace of God, he was just precisely like us.
If our theology enables us to read Judas' tale without a shudder and an earnest prayer, I daresay something vital is missing.
We may draw this observation: a man can be known for what comes of his devotion to God — or for what comes of his being a willing tool for Satan.
Judas Iscariot. Scariest man who ever lived.
Yet pause just one moment longer. I see in the shadows there a man who could be Judas' twin in some ways. He too was a big talker. He too was privileged, even more so than Judas.
He too caved, buckled, gave way before the trial. He too denied his Lord, and not once, nor twice, but thrice.
We remember his name, as well: Peter. "The Rock." We chuckled when we say it, and shake our heads, because of how "The Rock" crumbled.
But here's the difference. Judas' betrayal was his final act in relation to Christ. Peter's was not. Christ had prayed for Peter (Luke 22:32), and Peter repented, was restored. The book of Acts shows in Peter the fruits of repentance, of a genuine change of heart and mind.
If Judas is the scariest man who ever lived (and he is), then what is Peter? The most humbling man who ever lived, as we see our big mouths and lofty promises — and our feet of clay — in
him?Or possibly the most encouraging man who ever lived, because his repentance found forgiveness and restoration in the Lord's grand heart?
Both men rebuke the smug. Both men rebuke the overconfident. Both both men point us to Christ, to our need to walk with the Lord now, rather than rest on memories of having walked with Him yesterday.
A vivid view of these two men gives the appropriate edge to the words of Hebrews:
For we have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original confidence firm to the end (3:14)
Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession (4:14)
…by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us (6:18)
Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful (10:23)
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, 2 looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God (12:1-2)
12 September 2007
Temporarily Humble County
by Frank TurkBefore we really get going here, the title is modified version of a Firesign Theater sketch -- a skit which is really about how much we Westerners and Americans think of ourselves. It's sort of a satirical Ozymandias, so it is apropos that we use it here to talk a little about the word "humble" and what it should mean to us.
Here's why I chose this topic: there's a blog out there which isn't actually "new", but it's new to me -- and it's being authored/supplied by a handful of young guys who, all in all, are guys I like insofar as I know their work. The site is New Attitude.org, and apparently they had a conference this year.
They are now blogging about something which is an interesting topic -- something they are calling "Humble Orthodoxy", and all things being equal, I say good on them. Their link there gives a broad definition of what they're trying to say, and this month they are blogging to work out or anecdotally-demonstrate what they're talking about.
And it turns out that this is the root question: in what way should "orthodoxy" be "humble"? I mean, I'm not sure anyone is going to go on-record to say, "Wow -- shouldn't orthodoxy be arrogant and a little sassy and bossy and aggressive? Doesn't orthodoxy have a right to be like Fred Phelps or somebody like that because it's God's sovereign Truth™ and it's not wrong?"
You know: not even us Pyros think of orthodoxy like that -- in spite of what our critics will say about us even after this little bit of yammering from me. Certainly, God's truth -- which is what the Greek-derved word "orthodoxy" means in this case, the doctrines which reflect God's truth -- has authority.
And that is the first place where the matter of being "humble" comes in: as someone said over at the NA blog, it's a phony humility which is not orthodox. It's inherently not humble to be doubtful of God's word or of God. That's actually sinful and arrogant in an ontological way.
So we can agree that the first place where "humble" and "orthodox" come into contact is before God: we ought to be humble before God -- which is not, btw, an academic humility, but the kind of humility which actually bends the knee and (as they say in the OT) gets face-down before God, recognizing that I'm a contingent nothing without my Creator, Sustainer and Savior.
For the verse-number guys who think you can't spill out God's truth without the verse numbers, check out 1 Pet 5:6, Luke 14:11, Zeph 2:3, and Dan 5:21-23.
But then there's one verse which has to catch your eye as you bumble through BibleGateway.com:
Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble."(ESV)(again, for the verse people, 1 Pet 5:5) And while we might expend 1000 words on the nuances there, one thing's for sure: Peter is talking about relational humility of people to people, so in some way "orthodoxy" causes "humility" one to another among Christian people.
But what does that mean? Not to be thick-headed here, but does it mean (as one writer at NA put it this week) that we have the truth but we act as if we don't know it?
Here's my 2¢ on that to keep my Wednesday post brief this week: I think that "humility" in "orthodoxy" has to be first a conforming of me to God's word. Not to open up old controversies here, but Francis Chan had a great sermon on the Holy Spirit a couple of weeks ago in which he said that unless we have the Holy Spirit in us, we're not going to repent and turn toward God. That's the primary work of the Holy Spirit -- and in turning toward God, we start doing the things God wants us to do, the way God wants them done. That's the first "humble" thing: God's word, God's work, God's way.
But then there's a consequence there which, I think, get missed in the, um, (I almost said "rush to be humble", but I'm not sure that "rushing" is compatible with "humility") urgency to be humble now that we know what that is: "God's way" is to declare truth, and deliver truth, and to live truth -- which necessarily means "in spite of error". Again for the verse guys, I'd go back to 1 Timothy and Titus to see what Paul thinks about having behavior which is according to healthy doctrine.
Cap in hand, I get the appeal of wanting to be like David Carradine in the 70's TV series Kung Fu. I get the appeal of a pseudo-monastic lifestyle because it seems a little mysterious to people who don't really know what you're up to. But even Kwai Chang Caine had to stand up for what's right every now and again -- about once every 20 minutes (including commercial breaks) if memory serves me right.
So in the end, if that's actually humility -- taking action in truth after being transformed by the truth in the first place to right action -- should we care that some people will interpret our (metaphorically speaking) moral and spiritual Shao Lin disciplines as being unhumble and ungracious?
If so, when should we care?
That's what the meta is for, and I leave that to you today.
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