Worship-service style: "Ch-ch-ch-changes," or "I shall not be moved"?

by Dan Phillips

I am particularly interested in hearing from pastors, though any church-member's welcome to chime in. Have you (A) presided over, (B) spearheaded, or (C) adamantly resisted any significant change in the Sunday morning service of the church you serve?

This could touch on number or style of songs, composition of musical accompaniment, length of service, items in the service — anything.

Please tell the how, the what, the why, and the outcome. Full is good.

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Candid pastoral thoughts on depression and drugs

by Dan Phillips

As always, I'm going to try to say as much as I can, as briefly as I can.

Man: body and soul. From the Bible I learn that man was created as an embodied soul (Gen. 1—2). He's not a spirit uneasily floating within a body; he's not a body with some higher functions. Being parted from his body is an unnatural and temporary state, which God will ultimately remedy (1 Cor. 15; Rev. 20).

In the meanwhile, here we are, body and soul. Spiritual realities such as guilt and unbelief, as well as faith and hope, produce physical effects (2 Sam. 13:2; Pss. 16:9; 32:3-4; 38:3, 7; 63:1; 119:120), and physical states can effect us spiritually (Pss. 6:2-7; 88:13?). We should humbly admit that there are many mysteries as to the relation of soul and body that we just can't resolve finally. Where is the person, in the body afflicted with

Alzheimers, or laid low in a coma? What is the volitional buy-in when there is what is called a bipolar or autistic pattern? Is it great? Is it nil? Certainty is evasive.

Depression: cause(s) and effect(s). Specifically as to depression, it isn't a single effect with a single cause. Ask David; ask Elijah; ask Jeremiah; ask Spurgeon; ask me. It can grow from unbelief, from exhaustion, from lazy thinking, from persecution, from a dozen, a hundred other causes known and unknown. Professor David Murray, for instance, has recently highlighted some research finding a physical indicator of depression.

Causation gnarliness. However, that said, still — which the chicken, which the egg? Plus, the very splash this story made in part relates to the paucity of such hard evidence (remember: theory, no matter how oft-repeated, is not proof) previously. When I talked to my doctor about the very serious depression I was beginning to experience some decades ago, he told me about the lack of serotonin in my brain, and wanted me to take a pill for it. It turns out that this whole model is (to say the least) not nearly as sure a thing as it is presented.

Now, think about that. Tests determine whether I have blood pressure issues, problems with my heart, lung, brains, nerves, eyes, and on and on. Tests identify the problems, surgery or medicine can address the problems, and tests will disclose whether the conditions are improving or not. With mental issues, emotional issues, behavioral issues? It's not as cut and dried as we're often told by the white coats.

What's depressing me right now is the certainty that, no matter how carefully I'm trying to write, I'm being misunderstood. One group of readers is saying "Aha! Exactly! All those pills and doctors are complete wastes of time! I agree with you!" Another, "I can't believe you're so heartless and ignorant as to banish suffering people back to the Dark Ages. What do you recommend? Leeches, dungeons, beatings?" Neither is a correct reading.

It's...complicated. What I am really saying is that it's complex, it's complicated, and we should proceed with cautious humility. I am saying that stridency of voice is not always an indicator of clarity of evidence. And I'm saying all that to come to this pastoral turn.

Both ways? Not so much. When I counsel people with depression, I find that many have already been to the doctor, and many are already taking medication.

There's a real imbalance in practice, here; a partnership that should be happening but isn't. If a person came to me with serious depression, I would encourage him to get some medical tests to make sure there's not a physical issue. However, I have never yet met one person whose doctor said "There are pills that address some of these symptoms. But since I find no physical cause, I'd like you first to work with your pastor and see if the issue isn't non-physical." Rather, it seems that doctors reach for their prescription-pad faster than James Bond for his Walther PPK.

Altered picture. So in these situations, I start out in a bind. I am, as I said, not opposed in principle to medication. However, it is undeniable that medication changes the equation to some degree, perhaps dramatically. I am dealing with a person who is taking mind-affecting drugs. What he sees and feels is colored, to some degree, by the pills he is taking. NOTE: Truly, I am saying this without the least condemnation of the suffering brother or sister. I simply state a fact.

Some drug is in the picture with which I'm being presented. I have no training in these medications, and have no expertise in dealing with drugs, so... what exactly do I do? How do I proceed?

Are the drugs helping this dear one and me in what we want to accomplish? Or are they hindering? Are they moving us towards a goal, or hiding critical information?

Curing... or masking? Think of it this way: suppose I'm wearing shoes that are far too tight. My feet hurt awfully. I go to the doctor. The doctor wants to help me, he hears I'm in pain. So he prescribes pain medication. I take it, I feel better. And I continue wearing the shoes.

The pills help the pain (that the shoes are causing), but they do other things as well. I'm a bit drowsy, I'm not as sharp-minded. The drug affects my work, it makes driving problematic. And then there's the problem of the law of diminishing effects, as dosage is gradually elevated.

However, the pills were immediately helpful for the pain.

The problem of pain? or of its absence? All of this overlooks the fact that this pain had a purpose, a God-given purpose. The pain was meant to alert me to the problem: my shoes were too tight. The solution was not to address the pain qua pain, but to find the source of the pain. In fact, helping me tolerate the pain — short-circuiting God's flashing red light system — might ultimately cause real damage to my feet.

So this depression... is it a hormonal deficiency? As a pastor, I can't help that by Biblical counseling. Lack of rest? Blood sugar? That's not my area, not my specialty.

But suppose (just suppose! that's all I'm saying) the depression is a result of guilt over sin? or of ignorance of God's truth? or of a faint grip of the truths of God's grace and love and promises? or of lazy unbelief? or of disobedience? These are among the many, many possible causes of depression — not to mention the causeless depression of which Spurgeon wrote. But in all of these cases except perhaps the last, not only will medicating the symptoms away not help, but it will actually retard the process, by hooding God's flashing red light.

Where are we going? And there's more. Invariably, I ask these dear souls what the doctor's end-game is, and invariably they don't know, because he hasn't told them. Does the doctor mean them to take pills the rest of their lives? (Some have already done so for decades.) But then, how can we ever know whether the person is better? One can't stop these medications cold-turkey, that causes its own problems. So where are we going with this, and how do we know when we've gotten there?

In the attempts to bring this post to a close with a useful takeaway, here is a list of questions I'd like anyone to ask his doctor, before he begins taking drugs for depression or such. These should not be combative questions. They aren't meant to be. They should simply help make for an informed patient.

As an added bonus, the answers would be very helpful to the pastor who usually is brought in late in the game.

Ask your doctor:

1. Do you think my problem is a sheerly-physical problem?
2. Is there a test that has shown, or can show, whether my problem is a sheerly-physical problem?
3. How long do you intend me to take these pills? That is, when will I stop?
4. How will we know when I can stop taking these pills?

Even answers to just those four questions would be so helpful in a counseling situation.

After all, I hope we're all agreed to hold three specific stances:

1. Our goal in life is to glorify God to the greatest degree possible (1 Cor. 10:31).
2. We don't want to try to address physical issues spiritually, or vice-versa.
3. While medicine is a gift from God, we don't want to take either more or less personality-affecting medication than is necessary.

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Two marriage myths, busted

by Dan Phillips

As I continue in my announced intent to share a few bits of Biblical wisdom on marriage, it seems good to start by dispelling a couple of myths. Call me a Biblical "mythbuster."

First: it takes two to create marital problems. No, it doesn't. It only takes one.

It feels embarrassing even to have to say that, it's such a Biblically obvious point — but the notion of necessarily democratically-shared liability is so widespread that some air-clearing is necessary.

I think I'll call this the Democratic Causality Myth. How do I know it's a myth? The same way I know anything really important: the Bible. Didn't you read 1 Peter 2:19-20?

For this is a gracious thing, when, mindful of God, one endures sorrows while suffering unjustly.  20 For what credit is it if, when you sin and are beaten for it, you endure? But if when you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God.

There you go: it is possible to suffer, not only in spite of doing good, but precisely for doing good. Peter expressly envisions a relationship where Party A causes suffering to Party B, and the latter not only did not "have it coming to him," but was specifically doing what he ought to be doing.

Peter's not done with that theme. Note that he says in 3:14a, "even if you should suffer for the sake of righteousness, you are blessed." There it is again: suffering precisely because one had done what was right.

Of course, we could add a heap of Scriptures, and they'd take us back to our Lord Himself, amid the Beatitudes: "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Matt. 5:10).

The assumption that all suffering must be immediately traceable to some specifically causative wrongdoing is simply not Biblical. It is to join hands and nod along with Job's divinely-discredited friends, as they doggedly pursue the etiology of Job's suffering, sure that he'd brought it on himself somehow.

So if we grant this for all of life, is there some force-field that un-trues the truth when it comes to marriage? Is it only in marriage that we must always split blame for suffering 50-50? I'd like to see that logic diagrammed.

Now let me hasten to say (if it isn't too late to "hasten") that the odds are that there never has been a troubled marriage involving one 100% flawless saint and one 100% culpable reprobate. And anyone who was trying to help a troubled couple would be a fool to overlook the wisdom of Prov. 18:17. We sinners being what we are (sinners, and rationalizing ones at that), the odds are that both parties in a struggling marriage have sin-patterns to deal with. You, the person in a troubled marriage, should start with that assumption.

But really — a woman's husband commits adultery. You immediately begin to search for what she did to bring this on herself? On what Biblical warrant? Even if you can find twelve things she did wrong as a wife, does that make his sin of adultery to any degree her fault? A man's wife incessantly tongue-lashes and emasculates him. First thing you do is start listing off his failure as a leader? On what Biblical warrant? Even if you can find twelve things he did wrong as a husband, does that make her sin of verbal assaults to any degree his fault?

Where was I when the Bible was changed (A) to relieve parties of 100% culpability for their own sin, and (B) to empower mere mortals to cause other mortals either to sin or do righteousness?

Let me also hasten to say that if you are in a troubled marriage, and your immediate thought is "Aha! I knew it! This proves I'm in the right!", you're not catching what I'm throwing. What I'm throwing, when we combine it wth the terrifying human capacity for rationalization of the most outrageous sins, is that you should start with the thought that you may be the one in the wrong.

In fact, let me develop that. Let's say a marriage is troubled. (Readers: "A marriage is troubled." Nice.) Let's say the biggest problem is a selfish, lazy man who is in no way a picture of Christ's sacrificial love for His church (Eph. 5:25ff.). You imagine the specifics. Let's say he agrees with his wife that they have a troubled marriage. Let's say she tries to talk to him about his behavior (the porn, the late nights out away from home night after night, whatever).

He retorts "It takes two to tango, honey. We've got problems, that means you've got problems. Let's talk about your problems."

What if she does have problems? What if she doesn't? It doesn't make any difference to his sin. Maybe she's sweeter than a ripe peach. Maybe she's a sour-mouthed, nasty, merciless harridan. What does that have to do with anything? He is contributing sin to the marriage because he is contributing sin to the marriage. Insisting on starting with her behavior, and hiding behind the democratic myth, is a sheer red-herring.

And in case I haven't made this clear, I am writing to you. I am not writing to your spouse. You (and I) need to own your (and my) sin, period, and not race for cover behind the democratic causality myth.

Second: an occasional knock-down, drag-out fight is good for a marriage. This is a great idea... well, apart from that whole thing about it being totally dead-wrong.

The Proverbs book has a long (60+ page) chapter on what Proverbs specifically, and the Bible as a whole, has to say about marriage. I tackle this particular myth in the course of that study. To wit:

Perhaps you have heard the conventional wisdom that fighting is healthy for a marriage, that a little “clearing the air” (by means of a fight) is actually constructive and helpful. I have come to be absolutely convinced that this is a lie, and harmful one at that. A married couple should never fight.

By “fight,” of course, I do not mean “disagree,” nor do I mean have lively discussions nor debates. It is probably not only impossible, but positively undesirable that disagreements never take place in a marriage of two redeemed pilgrims on their way to—but not yet arrived at—the Celestial City. (More on that, later.)

Probably any couple knows when a disagreement becomes a fight. When lines are drawn up, tempers flare, hurtful accusations are hurled, and verbal blows are exchanged, a disagreement has degenerated into a fight. One opponent seeks to defeat the other, at almost any cost. Victory becomes the only goal. (p. 210)

This is followed by a sidebar, "Why Christian couples should never fight each other," Biblically detailing individual sets of reasons why neither husband nor wife should ever participate in a fight with the other. The reasons center around the Biblical description of what it means to married in general, and specifically what it means to be a husband or a wife. You can't be doing what God calls a husband or wife to do, and at the same time give yourself to fighting your spouse.

(And yes, I'm aware that clever minds can come up with valid "what-ifs" ["What if my husband is carrying a vial of deadly virus and intends to wipe out the population of Encino?"] — if a "what-if" that probably accounts for about 0.0001% of actual marital fights constitutes a valid exception.)

So. We can't assume that every marital problem has a 50-50 split. We can't solve our problem by trying to destroy our mate and force him or her to our will by verbal blunt-force trauma.

What should we do?

Next time.

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The Eddie Haskell of Pastoral Trouble-Making

by Frank Turk

Before we get full-on blog here today, my friends Steve Hays and Jason Engwer are waging the war against popular old-school atheism.  By that I mean they are actually engaging the old-school atheists and basically beating them down in a manner suitable to the means presented by the lot of them.  I mention it because Steve and Jason have written a response to the latest tome from the John Loftus school of inbred atheism, and it's called The End of Infidelity.  The e-book is available at this link, and I commend it to you if you care at all about atheist apologetics.

Note to Steve and Jason & the rest of the Triabloguers: The reason I say "old school atheists" above is that the hard-core post-modernist bent has set in, and the old rationalist, materialist, neo-positivist atheism is, frankly, running on empty.  Nobody wants all that philosophical baggage any more these days, and the next generation of atheists will be in the same vein as a young fellow named Chris Stedman, who is on staff at the (now get this) Humanist Chaplain at Harvard University.  He's the face of nice atheism, and has a book coming out called (F)a(i)theist.  In 10 years, John Loftus will be a homeless person muttering to himself about his self-published archive that banished Theism into the outer darkness of people he wouldn't associate with anyway, but Stedman and his lite version of interfaith collegiality between unbelief and belief will be alive and well among those who think superficial "nice" is the most important virtue.  Let's find a way to preach the Gospel to that, and stay ahead of the curve.

OK -- so you're all over the Elephant Room 2 fiasco, right? There's nothing left to say, it's been said, and we need to just move on.  Carson and Keller have offered the penultimate careful evaluation (the ultimate to take place behind closed doors with no chance that anyone will see how this gets resolved), James MacDonald has stopped posting videos extolling his own humility (at least through the moment at which I am typing this), and we're done.

Um, no.

Mark Driscoll has, with his usual panache, escaped all scrutiny.  He's the Eddie Haskell of pastoral trouble-making, usually getting someone else on the hook for his own impishness, and getting away with most of it because he's really such a nice boy according to Mrs. Cleaver.  And this is a very troubling issue as his tribe of manly men for Jesus (the Acts29 network) are not usually this quiet -- unless Pastor Driscoll has put his foot in it (again).

Now, what I am very excited about is that not everyone has let what he has done here go unnoticed.  To their credit, Carson and Keller said this much in their pronouncement from Mount Caritas:

Here is where the distinction becomes interesting. Neither the terminology of "manifestations" preferred by Oneness Pentecostals and other modalists nor the terminology of "persons" supported by historic creeds is directly used in Scripture. Where does it come from? It comes from thinkers two or three centuries after the New Testament was written who were doing their best to summarize large tracks of biblical themes and texts in faithful, accurate summaries, even if the terminology was not directly dependent on the terminology of a specific verse or two. History has shown, for the reasons briefly set forth in our first pairing, that the terminology of "manifestations" was soundly trounced and declared heretical: it simply could not be squared with what the Bible says. The "persons" terminology prevailed (along with words like "subsistence") not because it derived directly from usage in the biblical documents themselves, but because it could be shown that this terminology did a great job of summarizing what the Bible actually says.

And then again:

To attempt theological interpretation without reference to such developments is part and parcel of Biblicism One; to attempt theological interpretation that is self-consciously aware of such developments and takes them into account is part and parcel of Biblicism Two. We hasten to add that both Biblicism One and Biblicism Two insist that final authority rests with the Bible. All the theological syntheses are in principle revisible. Yet the best of these creeds and confessions have been grounded in such widespread study, discussion, debate, and testing against Scripture that to ignore them tends to cut oneself off from the entire history of Christian confessionalism. The Bible remains theoretically authoritative (Biblicism One), but in fact it is being manipulated and pummeled by private interpretations cut off from the common heritage of all Christians.

Statements with which I whole-heartedly agree -- but which Pastor Driscoll has tacitly denied in his interaction with Jakes (and has openly denied as demonstrated here).  So on the one hand, the clever person can see the distancing of TGC from Driscoll's new friendship and new alliance with a man TGC does not hold in such high esteem, and at the same time we can also see the basis for a rebuke for what has happened.

But what's going on with Acts29?  Not a statement?  Not a mention?  Not a notice that they have seen it and therefore rebuke the twittering pajamahadijn for making such a big thing of this?

Listen y'all: this is a big thing.  Driscoll himself has rebuked Osteen-ism from his own pulpit, and wants you rubes to man up and shoot the wolves.  But here he is with the only other fellow in the English-speaking world who has the scope of influence of Osteen and the self-same lousy Gospel and theology, and the same worn out lines which Christianity Today can't recognize from 2000 even tough they printed them, and he's shaking hands with this fellow in a way which even Keller and Carson find dubious.

See: I get it when you guys are offended that Phil or John MacArthur wag a finger at you and yours -- because it feels like your father wagging his finger at you for forgetting to fill up the car when you just drove home from saving all the orphans from a house fire.  You guys see yourselves reaching a generation for Christ, and the (from your perspective) indignation over holiness (which looks, from your perspective, a little stilted) seems to be unwarranted parental umbrage.  So if they tell you that you ought to say something about Mark or to Mark, they can just go mind their own business.  You're busy with something else, like ministry.

But you have to ask yourselves: is it right that the President of your Church Planting Network (they called those "conventions" back when your pappy was a deacon; they called them "associations" in the 1980's) can embrace a guy that the rest of you know is not someone you would bring into the fold?  You know you wouldn't let Jakes preach from your pulpit - shouldn't you at least ask what is now expected from you and your tribe after Mark gave him the Big Hug and the "welcome to the Family" speech?

Apparently all the right people are on the bus ...

The Gospel Coalition has made it very clear about where they stand on this.  I am grateful for what they have said, even if it's too little, too late.  But you guys are silent?

Well, maybe that's how it goes.  Maybe there's a bro-code I don't know because I'm not a bro, and you guys can accept that Mark Driscoll can lead you into associations with people you know will be harmful to your local church's theological and missional well-being with no consequences because he's "fruitful" and "humble". Lumpy never ratted out Eddie, after all.

But let's be honest: that's showing something which, in the final account, we might be able to call "fellowship" or "perseverance" or some such Bible word that puts a good face on it. But that's not being a leader by any means.  That's not showing leadership.  And in the end, you're supposed to be pastors and not merely a hipster mutual appreciation society.

UPDATED: Wow. As I was writing this post, it turns out Acts29 was making an announcement which shows they are "excited about the future of Acts 29". You can read the whole thing here, but as it turns out Pastor Mark's performance at the Elephant Room will not only have no effect on his status inside A29: he actually is going back to being the leader of the pack. (cue motorcycle music)

And before things go completely south from that announcement, let's remember that when those guys are using the terms "Prophet," "Priest," and "King," they are using Bible terms to identify organizational functions, not theocratic anointings.  That Driscoll is now the leader of their "Prophet board" does not mean anything more than he's the leader of their board of directors.  That they feel like they have to call themselves a "Prophet board" rather than "board of directors" is funny enough; let's not escalate the hilarity by trying to figure out which visions Driscoll will see now ...

ANOTHER UPDATE: Oh brother.  Apparently James MacDonald is now repeating his side of the story -- with some addenda (like the private repudiation of the Prosperity Gospel Jakes made to him).  The round up of that activity is best found here.

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Recommended Books

by Frank Turk


We don't really do book reviews here at PyroManiacs because, well, you come here for the truly crafty reproaches which we lay out here. And, I might add, you people are hooked on the loads of introspection and honest-to-Gospel repentance we call you to week in and week out because let's face it: you people are a wreck, and you need the whole-grain goodness we dollop out.

But we do get a lot of books in the mail, and from time to time I find some of the books arrive in a somewhat-providential moment where they are simply and exactly what the doctor ordered in terms of content and relevance.

This week from Crossway, I got two titles which I am absolutely giddy about because they have a ton of insight to shed on my theme topic for 2012, which is spiritual leadership. You know: I have written about being a good non-pastor in the church over and over because I am a non-pastor in the church. However, it seems to me that this year those who are in some way fitted or called to lead God's church need a little encouragement (both the carrot and the stick) to get on with it for the sake of their charges. The two books I have to recommend here are a good place to start.

The first book is edited by Dr. Anthony Bradley -- a credible person with an internet personality probably in the same class as me. He's a fellow drunken master, and I am a great fan of his insights and work on all manner of issues, even if I can admit that I wince about 3 times per 25 sentences whenever I read him or hear him. He is the kind of crazy genius we need in the Reformed camp, and in the Evangelical camp, and in the Man camp.

Dr. Bradley has edited a book with the modest title, Keep Your Head Up: America's New Black Christian Leaders, Social Consciousness, & the Cosby Conversation. The book is a collection of 10 essays plus preface and conclusion in which fellow leaders in the Black Christian community, including Dr. Bradley himself, discuss the credibility of the critique of black culture presented by Bill Cosby and Alvin Poussaint in their 2007 book, Come On People. It is a fantastic examination of the need of mankind for the Gospel -- not just spiritually, but personally and humanly -- as applied to the condition of Black society and culture in America. The centerpiece of the book is Dr. Bradley's own unpacking of that thesis, and it is by itself work the price of admission.

From my perspective, which is not that of a black man in America, this book is teaching me about my own self-blindness and my own self-satisfaction, and my own continuing needfulness for the Gospel, for faithful preachers of God's word, and for His church because it speaks to the needs of others, different from me, who have the same need. I hope this book finds its place onto your bookshelf because it is an important book regarding the Gospel because it is not an egg-headed book of systematic theology. It is about bringing the Gospel home to human culture and letting the Gospel be the solution to those cultures.

The other book is in the 9Marks series of books on church life from Crossway. This one is by the beloved Thabiti Anyabwile, Finding Faithful Elders and Deacons. This is careful and simple book, expressly about the call and qualification of the servants of the church who are also its leaders, and I credit Thabiti for writing it to the church rather than to fellow theologians.

Let me say this about the books in the 9Marks series: Mark Dever's fingerprints are all over these books, and that's not at all a bad thing. Dever's fatherly love for the local congregation comes out from all of these books, but in this book especially. It's funny how much Thabiti doesn't say about the local pastor in this book: there's no chapter on white boarding; there's no chapter on productivity or time management; there are no references to secular business practices. There are no suggestions about how to hear what God's own voice is telling you to do.  Selah.

Instead, Thabiti takes Paul's directions for calling Deacons, Elders, and Pastors, and lays them out for us real people to take seriously as God's plan for leading the local church. It's not even 150 pages long, which is to its credit: there is no fluff in here. This is the vernacular theology of how those called to be, as Thabiti says, the waiters in God's church ought to be trained up, and called out, and then serve and see their own service.

And I bring these two books up for one reason only: how much of the controversy of the last two weeks could have been cut off before it even became public if the advice and insight contained in these two books only could have been harnessed by men who we otherwise see as heroes of the faith and respected leaders? What if we rebuked the Americanisms and Secularisms in our own forms of leadership and our own perceptions of what leadership should accomplish for the telemetry of the Gospel and the call to sacrificial service inherent in the qualifications for deacons, elders and pastors? Would it have produced the Elephant Room, or would it have produced something else -- something that looks more like a shepherd with a flock of people in his sacred care, form who he is willing to be poured out for like a drink offering?

Read these two books, and I leave my question to your conscience. Be with God's people in God's house on His day this week, and get undone by the Gospel.

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Watchfulness, Honesty, and Affection

Your weekly dose of Spurgeon
posted by Phil Johnson

The PyroManiacs devote some space each weekend to highlights from The Spurgeon Archive. The following excerpt is from "False Professors Solemnly Warned," a sermon on Philippians 3:18-19, preached at Exeter Hall on 24 August 1856.

AUL was the very model of what a Christian minister should be. He was a watchful shepherd over the flock; he did not simply preach to them, and consider that he had done all his duty when he had delivered his message; but his eyes were always upon the Churches, marking their spiritual welfare, their growth in grace, or their declension in godliness. He was the unsleeping guardian of their spiritual welfare.

When he was called away to other lands to proclaim the everlasting gospel, he seems always to have kept an eye upon those Christian colonies which he had founded in the midst of heathen darkness. While lighting other lamps with the torch of truth, he did not fail to trim the lamps already burning. Here you observe he was not indifferent to the character of the little church at Philippi, for he speaks to them and warns them.

Note, too, that the apostle was a very honest pastor—when he marked anything amiss in his people, he did not blush to tell them; he was not like your modern minister, whose pride is that he never was personal in his life, and who thus glories in his shame, for had he been honest, he would have been personal, for he would have dealt out the truth of God without deceitfulness, and would have reproved men sharply, that they might be sound in the faith. "I tell you," says Paul, "because it concerns you."

Paul was very honest; he did not flinch from telling the whole truth, and telling it often too, though some might think that once from the lip of Paul would be of more effect than a hundred times from any one else. "I have told you often," says he, "and I tell you yet again that there are some who are the enemies of the cross of Christ."

And while faithful, you will notice that the apostle was, as every true minister should be, extremely affectionate. He could not bear to think that any of the members of the churches under his care should swerve from the truth, he wept while he denounced them; he knew not how to wield the thunderbolt with a tearless eye; he did not know how to pronounce the threatening of God with a dry and husky voice. No; while he spoke terrible things the tear was in his eye, and when he reproved sharply, his heart beat so high with love, that those who heard him denounce so solemnly, were yet convinced that his harshest words were dictated by affection. "I have told you often, and I tell you, even weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of Christ."

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Shining a Light before men

by Frank Turk

We get letters. I got a version of this one today, which I’d like to share with y’all because I think there’s some profit in it (there may also be some prophet in it, but I’ll leave that to the reader and the Holy Spirit to decide):

I'm a reader of your work over at TeamPyro (awesome stuff) and I'd like to ask for your help on an issue I'm currently facing.

It's about the book "Pagan Christianity" by Frank Viola and George Barna. It was recommended to me by a friend for discussion. We're specifically talking about the gospel (what it really means) but the conversation is spilling over to the church, about which he has some very passionate, but not altogether great opinions on.

Anyway, while looking for reviews of Mr. Viola's book, I stumbled across a comment you made in a Pyromaniacs comment feed saying that basically Frank Viola is a "kook" and has got his church history all wrong. I'm wondering if you could kindly:

1. elaborate a little more on why that is so and
2. lend me your take on this whole "I'm too cool for church/church should be like it was in the NT/we should abandon institutionalized and flawed churches" attitude that is sweeping many young people, especially those infatuated with emergent thinking.

your encouragement and solid thinking on this issue would be very much appreciated.

Well, as “kindly” as possible, here’s what I have to say about that:

This (meaning #2, above) is not a particularly “emergent” stream of thinking

Truth be told, this goes back even to Anabaptist conceptions of what it means to be a “church”, and maybe back even to monastic views of piety – so this is not hardly a new way to see things. The problem is that it is a view of what God has done without a lot of reference to what God says about what God has done.

I’ll cover that more in #3, below.

This is not a particularly mature stream of thinking

I can be honest: while people have to take responsibility for this kind of thinking in themselves, they didn’t invent it: they were taught it, either by example or explicitly. But if they were mature in their approach to this topic, and were taught by others who were mature, they’d not atomize the faith the way this approach atomizes faith to a primarily-personal experience.



This is not a particularly biblical stream of thinking

The way this approach to “church” works is to see what God has done for “me” as the starting point of Christian life and then maybe one tries to extend what God has done for “me” to include what God has done for “you” on a provisional basis. When I think God hasn’t done it for you anymore, I can therefore not care about you anymore – at least in the church sense.

The Bible, for those of you who have read it (and specifically for those who have not), goes about the matter in a completely different way. For certain, the place where the rubber hits the road is where “I” do something. But the way we are taught to reason by the Bible about our faith is that Christ has died for us, and that Christ sees his bride as an assembly, and that God has a whole people who are purchased as his own possession.

Does Christ save each one? Sure: certainly. But the formula that you might hear popularly that Christ would have died if the only one he was going to save was me is absolutely not found in the Bible.

The Biblical approach to what it means to have church starts with the fact that Christ died for the elect, which is not a statement of individualistic grace but a statement of a singular act of grace for the sake of all who would be saved.

When Paul riffs on this in Eph 5, he makes it clear that Christ died for the church and gave himself up for her. This has to make us consider that Christ’s work somehow is for all of us on purpose.

Candles on a birthday cake vs. a city on a hill

When Christ talks about who we are in him, he doesn’t say, “you are the light of the world, like little birthday cake candles which people will encounter here and there and I hope that’s enough to get the message across.”

Christ says instead this: “You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.” You know: You-Plural. Y’all. The city on the hill and the light on the lamp stand is the church and not the individual believer. So our light shines before men when we are together being the people Jesus died to make us.

Institutionalism vs. community

So how do we carry that over into the real world 2000 years later? Should we then embrace whatever institution has risen up – should we not have had a reformation? Should we never-ever leave the local church?

The truth is that the Bible gives us a lot of liberty for the local church – with some guidelines. We should have elders who teach us the faith, reprove us when we are wrong, guard the word of God, love people, and train up new elders; we should follow them. We should bear one another’s burdens. We should stand against error but seek to reconcile brothers who are turning away from the faith. We should love one another. We should worship in spirit and in truth (and in good order).

After that, it’s sort of open as to how we administrate that.

But factually the church has to be a local body – full of real people. It has to be visible and distinct from Kiwanis, the Lion’s Club, and the temple of Athena. It should be calling people into Christ and therefore into itself.

What it forms is a community which is (without going all eschatological on you) an expression of the coming kingdom under Jesus Christ, the King of kings. If we keep our eye on that objective, we avoid it becoming the kingdom which the brilliance of our pastor’s preaching, our elder’s leadership, and our own wonderful community outreach (which will create an institution) has formed. God forbid that our churches are “the church which we made for Jesus” rather than “the church which Jesus made us for”.

Anyone who would tell you otherwise is selling a book or a research project – and there’s no one saved by that.

Hope that helps.

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Worthless

by Frank Turk

When Paul said this to Titus:

The saying is trustworthy, and I want you to insist on these things, so that those who have believed in God may be careful to devote themselves to good works. These things are excellent and profitable for people. But avoid foolish controversies, genealogies, dissensions, and quarrels about the law, for they are unprofitable and worthless.

I think he knew something about the Blogosphere.

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Best of centuri0n: the filthy sheep-herd

by Frank Turk

[OK: that'll be 4 weeks off where you got to read my "best of", and I hope it didn;t bore you to death. We'll resume with the regularly-scheduled merciless beatings next week-ish.]

I was having a discussion with my pastor, and I related it to my wife (who is the greatest blogger who never typed 1K of bandwidth). The discussion was about church leadership, and whether the metaphor of the shepherd was useful in a society like America where 95% of the people have never seen one sheep, let alone a flock, let alone a person who was herding sheep.

Now, before any of you start the “perspicuity of scripture” organ up and set your monkey to dancing, this was not a discussion questioning the sufficiency of Scripture. Tad’s an inerrancy & sufficiency guy, and in case you haven’t noticed, so am I. The question was whether you could just open up this metaphor and have it stand up on its own in today’s society without a pretty significant amount of back-fill.

So, for example, is there a 21st century American equivalent to the shepherd which we could say, “look: most of you have never seen a shepherd, so rather than try to unpack what a shepherd does, let’s think about [Profession X] which is just like being a Shepherd.” My opinion is that there is no equivalent, and we have to unpack the metaphor Scripture has for us. But we took away the challenge to think about the matter and report back.

So, I took the matter to the Holy Spirit, which in my house is manifest most often in my wife. She slept on it, and she came up with two great conclusions.

CONCLUSION #1:

Men would probably like it if the Shepherd metaphor translated into “staff sergeant” or “General” or “CEO”. It would make Macho sense to them. But they would be wrong: a Shepherd is much more like a Kindergarten teacher than like a Sergeant or a CEO. Of course, you can’t sell a lot of books to men in business if your thesis is, “Jesus really is a lot more like a good Kindergarten teacher than a superhero or a king when it comes to dealing with us stupid sinners.”

CONCLUSION #2:

The biggest separation, however, between the good shepherd metaphor and the CEO is that the Shepherd lives with his sheep in every way. That is, the shepherd has to get dirty and do distasteful and even degrading things to make sure he takes proper care of his sheep. I don’t know a lot of CEOs who are ready to degrade themselves, for example, by working in the same conditions as the hourly single parent who has to work on the line. “But cent,” you might say, “the CEO does a pretty radically different kind of work than the hourly employee,” and I’d agree with you. Christ does a pretty radically different work than I do, but you know something: though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

If you are looking for the model of leadership demonstrated in Christ, look there at the dirty sheep-herd who lives with his sheep, and sleeps with his sheep, and has to personally stand between his sheep and the wolves.

Good luck with that this weekend.

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Preachin' Dirty

by Phil Johnson

ulpit Live is currently posting transcripts from Friday morning's plenary session at last week's Shepherds' Conference. The comment-threads there would be a perfect place for me to answer some of the questions I have received since the Shepherds' Conference, but for reasons unknown, the Pulpit website won't accept my comments. (I'm dead to them.)



On top of the many comments posted in various on-line forums, I've received about two dozen e-mails from people who have written me directly to ask questions or lodge complaints about Friday's message. All who have written me directly have been very gracious, and I believe all of them have been sincere. Most have asked the same two or three questions, so today I want to answer those questions (plus a few of the not-so-sincere objections that have showed up here, there, and on Facebook). These are roughly in order from the most common questions to the most bizarre:

Have you or Dr. MacArthur ever personally shared your concerns personally with Mark Driscoll?

Yes. I sent Mark a 6-page letter the first week of December, telling him what I was planning to deal with at the Shepherds' Conference. I explained why I thought his message at the Desiring God Conference in September left some of the most important objections to his own use of crass language unanswered. I also enumerated six specific questions that I thought would help my understanding of his position.

Mark didn't reply or acknowledge my letter until one week prior to the Shepherds' Conference. Then he phoned and said he would answer me by video since the timing was late. When the video arrived, Driscoll had addressed his reply not to me but to the attendees of the Shepherds' Conference—as if I had invited him to share my time slot at the conference.

His reply also ignored the six questions enumerated in my letter. Instead, he answered a question of his own choosing, saying he believed that one answer would suffice as an answer to all my questions.

John MacArthur likewise attempted to correspond with Driscoll a year and a half ago. He too received no answer for almost six months, and when the answer finally came, it was routed indirectly, through an e-mail sent by Driscoll's secretary to John MacArthur's secretary. Curiously enough, Driscoll's reply to John came on the first day of last year's Shepherds' Conference.

Driscoll clearly does not take his critics very seriously. Communication with him hasn't done anything so far to convince me that he understands (or wants to understand) the concerns some of us have tried to express to him.

Didn't you know that Driscoll has already repented of using bad language?

So I hear. I mentioned that fact in my letter to Driscoll and cited three well-known instances of ribald jokes and profane remarks that occurred long after he said he was sorry for past sins of the tongue. The first of my six questions to him was, "How do the above remarks differ from things you previously said you had repented of?" He did not answer that question.

I had someone else listen to your message. He went semi-ballistic, claiming that you'd misquoted Driscoll, and used 5- and sometimes 10-year-old arguments against him, etc.

I mentioned Driscoll by name only in two places in my message—once at the start and once at the end. The first time I mentioned him, I quoted from the opening sentence of an article in the New York Times Magazine about Driscoll. I attributed no words to Driscoll himself. The second time I singled out Driscoll by name, I referred to a joke he has told repeatedly. I made no attempt to "quote" the joke, because doing so would have violated the principle I was attempting to affirm. So I described the joke in oblique terms. Again, I attributed no words to him.

Both of those references dealt with material that has been published since January 1 of this year. So I would be curious to know where the critic thinks I "misquoted" or made use of "5- and sometimes 10-year-old arguments against him, etc."

Can you cite a single sermon where Driscoll used "cuss" words?

Why?

Not only did I not accuse him of using "cuss" words; I did not even mention Donald Miller's infamous nickname for Driscoll.

My complaint about Driscoll's language in the pulpit is much more serious than the question of whether he cusses or not. And I think I made that fairly clear.

Did you see Driscoll's Twitter comment right after your message?

There's no reason to assume that had anything to do with me, or that it meant anything sinister. He said he was meditating on Proverbs 26:4: "Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest you be like him yourself." It's a good verse. I meditate on that verse virtually every day, whenever hostile or hateful comments show up on my blog.

But you know what? Even if I thought Mark was aiming that Tweet at me, I wouldn't make an issue of it. I'm not particularly interested in what his visceral reaction was on Friday afternoon. I'm curious what his response will be when he has had time to think through the biblical substance of my message.

You lumped Mark Driscoll together with Ed Young. That's not fair.

Precisely how did I "lump" them? By naming them both? Both of them have shown a predilection for dealing with sexual topics in lurid terms. But not only did I not draw that connection or imply that the two of them are in any way in league with one another, I don't believe I even made any specific mention of Driscoll's series on sex from Song of Solomon—even though I think some aspects of that series and the accompanying Q&A were even more offensive than Ed Young, Jr.'s smirking interviews on the cable news programs that featured his sex challenge.

I have noticed, however, that all the questions I'm getting are about Mark Driscoll. Where are the defenders of Ed Young, Jr., ChristianNymphos, and xxxchurch's inflatable mascot?

Here's the point: My message was not actually about Driscoll per se. If the problem were just one guy who likes to talk dirty, I wouldn't have even dealt with the topic.

What my message actually decried was the atmosphere in evangelical and post-evangelical circles that deliberately glorifies everything lewd and lowbrow at the expense of any serious call for holiness.

I think I made that pretty clear, too.

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Things a pastor isn't: The Minister

by Dan Phillips

It's common to refer to a pastor as "a minister," or "the minister." I'm sure many use it out of common usage or force of habit.

However... is that an accurate distinctive title of a Biblically-faithful pastor? Is it a Biblical title?

The words minister (noun and verb) and ministry in the New Testament commonly translates the Greek words diakonos , diakoneō, or diakonia, (διάκονος, διακονέω, διακονία), respectively. The words don't have any great and specific holy or religious significance per se. They just denote servant, serve, and service. They are used to describe the civil authority (Romans 13:4), angels (Matthew 4:11), women who helped out with the Lord's daily necessities (Mark 15:41), a Gospel worker (Ephesians 6:21), a king's attendants (Matthew 22:13), waiters at a marriage feast (John 2:5), and deacons (Philippians 1:1), among others.

Wide variety of referents, and none of them distinctively confined to the pastor of a congregation.

What is the relationship between the pastor and ministry? The most telling and instructive passage in this connection is Ephesians 4:10-16 —

10 He who descended is the one who also ascended far above all the heavens, that he might fill all things.) 11 And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, 12 to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, 13 until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, 14 so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes. 15 Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, 16 from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love.

The four categories of gifted men include the foundational fits of apostles and prophets (Ephesians 2:20), evangelists, and pastor-teachers. The Greek syntax suggests (but doesn't demand) that "shepherds [pastors] and teachers" indicates one category of gifted man: the pastor-and-teacher.

And what is he said to be? "The Minister"? Hardly. In fact, Paul expressly says that the purpose of the office is to equip the saints for the work of service — of ministry (diakonia)!

So the pastor is not the vicarious representative of the congregation, doing the work of ministry in their stead. He does not serve God, as they gaze on idly, perhaps holding up score-numbers, like judges at the Olympics. No, the pastor equips the saints, and they minister, they serve. The saints are the ministers.

I loved the way a pastor friend has represented it at the church he serves. I had the pleasure of preaching at Sun Oak Baptist Church two Sundays ago, and appreciated the way the bulletin was done. The "staff" was listed on the cover in this way:

I loved that, and it's exactly right. The pastor is the pastor, the members are the ministers. Of course, the pastor ministers too, he serves; he's sort of a player-manager.

The pastor is a minister, a servant — as is every believing member of the church he serves.

But if a pastor is in fact the minister of some particular church (let alone The minister), it is a real indictment. Perhaps of him, for being autocratic or tight-fisted; perhaps of the flock, for being lazy and unresponsive.

Either way, it's not good.

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Facts, understanding, faith, and discipleship

by Dan Phillips

Ladies and gentlemen, consider if you will Mark 8:14-21 —

They had forgotten to take bread and had only one loaf with them in the boat.

15 Then he commanded them: "Watch out! Beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and the yeast of Herod."

16 They were discussing among themselves that they did not have any bread.

17 Aware of this, He said to them, "Why are you discussing that you do not have any bread? Do you not yet understand or comprehend? Is your heart hardened? 18 Do you have eyes, and not see, and do you have ears, and not hear? And do you not remember? 19 When I broke the five loaves for the 5,000, how many baskets full of pieces of bread did you collect?"

"Twelve," they told Him.

20 "When I broke the seven loaves for the 4,000, how many large baskets full of pieces of bread did you collect?"

"Seven," they said.

21 And He said to them, "Don't you understand yet?"

Now, reflect:

First, did they lack information? No; the disciples had all the facts they needed to have both understanding and faith.

Second, what was the problem? The problem was that they did not remember nor reflect on the facts in evidence, the information they all possessed.

Third, what was the result? The result of the disciples' failure to make use of the information they had was that they had neither understanding nor faith. In fact, they were about as dim as one of Mr. Edison's original bulbs would be, today.

Fourth, what do we learn of Jesus? A couple of things. For one, in dealing with them, Jesus did not give up on them. They were dim, dense, and dumb; but they had not rebelled and rejected. They were still enrolled; and He still taught.

But also note: Jesus did not spoon-feed them. He did not baby them, nor coddle them. Rather, He challenged them. He poked them. He jabbed at their thinking, by a series of brief, terse, pointed, rather confrontive questions.

He was not the feminized Jesus of popular, religious sentiment. He did not say in effect, "Oh, my precious 'iddle oojie-goojies! Is 'ums puzzled? Aww, let Uncle Jesus make it better!" Far from it. He did not hand them the answer. He forced them to bring out the facts and do something with them; He rebuked them; and He left them with a challenge.

Our Lord's attitude would be better captured by "Boys — you've got to grow up!" (We'll later see the same reflected in Apoll... er, the author of Hebrews, 5:11-14.)

Now, ask yourself this:

• Might this cast any light on how Jesus has dealt with you, in your Christian walk?
• Does it give any instruction for how we should deal with ourselves, as we strive to grow in Christ?
  
• Does it give any instruction as to how we might deal with others whom we disciple?
  

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Itching Ears

Your weekly dose of Spurgeon
posted by Phil Johnson

The PyroManiacs devote some space each weekend to highlights from The Spurgeon Archive. The following excerpt is from "The Evils of the Present Time," a chapter in the book An All-Round Ministry.

n reference to ministers, many church-members are indifferent as to the personal piety of the preacher; what they want is talent or cleverness. What the man preaches does not matter now; he must draw a crowd, or please the elite, and that is enough. Cleverness is the main thing. One would think they were looking for a conjurer rather than a pastor. Whether he preaches truth or error, the man is held in admiration so long as he can talk glibly, and keep up a reputation as a speaker.

If we had truer piety in members and deacons, pretenders would soon take their wares to other markets. Alas! I fear there has been great laxity in the admission of members, and the quality of our churches has become defiled and debased by "the mixed multitude," among whom all manner of evil finds a congenial dwelling-place. Unhappy leader, who has an Achan in his own camp! Better that Demas should forsake us, than that he should abide with us, and import the world into the church.

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