Of leprechauns, mermaids, and "loving homosexual couples"

by Dan Phillips

If I were to ask what leprechauns, mermaids, and loving homosexual couples have in common, I'm pretty sure this readership would have the answer. I'd like to help you explain why you answer as you do.

What they have in common with each other is, of course, that they are all mythical creatures, living only in fantasy and imagination and every movie, TV show, and commercial in existence... or at least that's true in the latter case.

Also mythical. Sorry.

This is a truth that has obviously not reached everybody. In fact, apparently it hasn't even reached those who made the decision to become spotlight-Christians, performers whose entire career is predicated on their claim to be Christian — which is to say, lifelong and advancing students of the words of God (John 8:31-32). I have in mind here folks like Dan Haseltine, lead singer for the group Jars of Clay. Note this tweet of his:

So many gay couples display more loving characteristics and healthy relationship practices than most traditional married couples....
— Dan Haseltine (@scribblepotemus) April 24, 2014

This "loving gay couples" meme is heard so much today; it's hard not to think in response:

The whole stands or falls, of course, on the definition of "love." If "love" means sexual arousal, well then, okey doke, sport, I guess if you say so. Or if it means fondness, affection, attraction, or a hundred other emotional and even volitional states... well, how would we even have the discussion? If it's all about emotion, the "discussion" is really beside the point, isn't it? Feelings are thought...well, felt... to be self-validating. After all, you've got to follow your heart, right? And your heart is all about what you feel. Right?

Unless you start with the fear of God (Prov. 1:7) instead of the lordship of Ego and Eros. Then, everything changes.

To begin with the fear of God is to acknowledge, from the outset, the Lordship and ultimacy of God, and the dependence and fallenness of man. It is to acknowledge that our hearts cannot be trusted (Prov. 28:26 {NAS]; Jer. 17:9). It is to acknowledge that real life is only found in knowing God through His word (Prov. 3:18; 4:13; John 6:63, 68). It is to see that rebellion and unbelief are the sure way of death and misery (Gen. 2:17; Pro. 8:36; Rom. 6:23).

As we learn from God how He wants us to treat others, we learn that He wants us to love them, even if they are our enemies (Lev. 19:18; Matt. 5:44). We learn that love is not primarily about feeling. Love is about doing what is for the greatest good of the other, even if that costs us (cf. Exod. 23:4-5; Prov. 25:21). We see the grandest display of love in the Father's gift of His son for our salvation (John 3:16; 1 John 4:9).

So, you see, there never was such a thing as a "loving homosexual couple." Nor was there ever yet a "loving adulterous couple," or a "loving fornicating couple." Accomplices? Yes. Co-conspirators, co-perpetrators? Sure. But loving? Never.

Love is a commitment to the good of the other — and rebellion against God is never for the good of the other. Sin against God is never for the good of the other. Turning away from life and love and forgiveness and reconciliation, and embracing guilt and wrath and doom and despair, wrapped in a straitjacket of rationalizations and distractions — these things are never about the good of the other.

Real love will point someone away from sin and death, and to Christ, the Gospel, life and forgiveness. If that Christward call to repentant faith is absent, so is love.

This is one of those cases where the crystal-clear thinking that the fear of God teaches can stand as a bright beacon of witness to God's wisdom, in our murky, fogbound culture.

That is, if fitting in with the culture isn't our highest ambition. Which it never will be, once our own world has been tilted by the Gospel.

Postscript: this and related matters are opened more fully in "Adultery De-Glamorized," a sermon on Proverbs 6:24-35.

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Repentance: unrepentant reminders

by Dan Phillips

Repentance is a Topic right now. In itself, that's a good thing. Repentance should be a constant topic in the lives of Christians — not just a constant topic, but a constant reality.

At the moment, I don't want to make a direct comment on the current issue that's brought this to the fore, and readers really shouldn't infer such from what follows.

Instead, I'd like to remind Pyro readers (and inform others) of how our readers have had the opportunity to be prepared to analyze and process such events Biblically, analytically — and not simply emotionally, whether by bitter and accusatory emotions, or chummy and exculpatory emotions.

In October of 2010 an article titled Repentance: fake and real laid down some cautionary warnings about imitations that can pose as real repentance, while withholding the actual cure itself.

Two days later a followup article titled The fruits of repentance keyed off of that very phrase, which is itself Biblical, and discussed the most commonly missing element in purported repentance: the productive element of repentance, the transformative, mortifying, and thus liberating element in repentance.

Just over a year later I wrote what I refer to as one of my Most Regrettably-Ignored Posts, Ever. Blogging is weird; some posts concerning which I had no particular expectations (like this and this) became huge things; while others of which I had large aims and expectations were virtually ignored.

One of the chief posts in this latter category was T. D. Jakes (and the like) Part Two: thinking clearly about repentance. Unlike later celebrated articles, this was written before the Elephant Room 2 disaster. Had the ideas in the post been broadcast and made the issue, a lot of damage and harm could have been averted.

Ironically, that post involved Mark Driscoll; and as it turned out, involved Driscoll a great deal. Driscoll was the Big Dog who was looked to to give a clean bill of health to T. D. Jakes... which Driscoll pretty much did. So much so, that anyone who didn't hop on-board was a racist.

If the thinking about repentance in this article had been made an issue to Driscoll before the fact, so that these questions and issues could not have been ignored, things might have gone very differently.

But they weren't, and they didn't, respectively.

So here we are again: repentance is an issue, and clarity is a need.

And so once again, I do what I can.

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A Word of Encouragement for Tender Souls Who Wonder If They Have Repented Enough

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 "Repentance unto Life," one of Spurgeon's earliest sermons, preached on Sunday morning, 23 September 1855, at New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.


nother mistake many poor people make when they are thinking about salvation . . . is that they cannot repent enough; they imagine that were they to repent up to a certain degree, they would be saved.

"Oh, sir!" some of you will say, "I have not penitence enough."

Beloved, let me tell you that there is not any eminent degree of "repentance" which is necessary to salvation. You know there are degrees of faith, and yet the least faith saves; so there are degrees of repentance, and the least repentance will save the soul if it is sincere.

The Bible says, "He that believeth shall be saved," and when it says that, it includes the very smallest degree of faith. So when it says, "Repent and be saved," it includes the man who has the lowest degree of real repentance.

Repentance, moreover, is never perfect in any man in this mortal state. We never get perfect faith so as to be entirely free from doubting; and we never get repentance which is free from some hardness of heart. The most sincere penitent that you know will feel himself to be partially impenitent.

Repentance is also a continual life-long act. It will grow continually. I believe a Christian on his death-bed will more bitterly repent than ever he did before. It is a thing to be done all your life long. Sinning and repenting—sinning and repenting, make up a Christian's life. Repenting and believing in Jesus—repenting and believing in Jesus, make up the consummation of his happiness. You must not expect that you will be perfect in "repentance" before you are saved. No Christian can be perfect.

"Repentance" is a grace. Some people preach it as a condition of salvation. Condition of nonsense! There are no conditions of salvation. God gives the salvation himself; and he only gives it to those to whom he will. He says, "I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy." If, then, God has given you the least repentance, if it be sincere repentance, praise him for it, and expect that repentance will grow deeper and deeper as you go further on.

Then this remark I think, ought to be applied to all Christians. Christian men and women, you feel that you have not deep enough repentance. You feel that you have not faith large enough. What are you to do? Ask for an increase of faith, and it will grow. So with repentance.

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How Can We Tell If Our Repentance Is Deep Enough?

by Phil Johnson

I recently received an e-mail from a gentleman who described his faith as fragile. He said the first time he heard the gospel (from some people doing street witnessing!) the immediate emotional impact was profound. There in the open air he acknowledged his guilt; he trusted Christ for forgiveness; he was later baptized; and he has ministered in his church ever since in a behind-the-scenes servant's role. But now, some six years after his conversion, he said his sense of contrition feels as if it has diminished somewhat. When he sins, he isn't always moved by the same profound sense of sorrow he felt at the first. He wonders if he has taken the promise of forgiveness too much for granted. Could it be that he was never truly saved? Questions such as those were keeping him awake nights, and he asked for my candid opinion. This was my response:

t's impossible to judge the depth of someone's conviction or the genuineness of a believer's penitence based on the potency of an emotional reaction alone. If the question is whether your repentance is genuine or not, I personally think what you "feel" emotionally has very little significance. Judas wept bitterly; Esau shed many tears. Neither of them truly repented. By contrast, the thief on the cross seemed almost stoically resigned to his fate. But there was enough genuine repentance in his dying plea that Jesus assured him of salvation on the spot.

It's faith, not tears, that proves the reality of repentance. David, a man after God's own heart, did sometimes weep over his sin, but not always. In that notorious instance when he sinned with Bath-Sheba, he tried for nearly a year to cover his sin without any evidence of remorse. What marked David as a man after God's own heart was his faith, not the quality or depth of emotion associated with his repentance; not even the speed of his repentance.

Few people are genuinely and perpetually sodden with the sorrow of remorse all the time. And that is a good thing. As Christians we are commanded to be joyful and always rejoicing. The very thing David prayed for at the end of that year-long rebellion was that God would restore to him the joy of his salvation. There is a legitimate joy in salvation that in the usual circumstances of life overwhelms and overshadows the sorrow of repentance. That joy is a better gauge of your spiritual health than the feelings you get when you ponder how sinful you are.

As believers, we confess that in and of ourselves we are utterly wretched, so it is fitting that we should have sorrow (James 4:9). In fact, we will never be completely finished grieving over our sin and its destructive consequences until God Himself wipes away our tears in heaven. There certainly is "a time to weep . . . a time to mourn" (Ecclesiastes 3:4).

But that same text says there is "a time to laugh" and "a time to dance" as well. We don't have to wallow perpetually in the shame of self-reproach in order to prove our repentance is real. "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted" (Matthew 5:4). After all, God's "anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning" (Psalm 30:5).

If you hate sin and love Christ and confess before Him that you are indeed a helpless sinner, then I wouldn't be over-analytical about the emotions you feel when you confess your sins. That kind of introspection will make you a fruitless Christian. Did you ever notice that qualities like regret and misery are missing from the characteristics of the fruit of the Spirit?

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law" (Gal 2:22-23).

Scripture says, "Examine yourself to see whether you are in the faith"—not, "Dissect how you express your repentance to see if you have been piteous enough."

My advice to you is to cultivate faith, not an emotional response. Emotions by definition rise and fall. They are neither the instrumental cause nor the evidence, much less the ground, of our justification. Faith is the instrument of justification, and the work of Christ is the ground of it. Focus on that, and your faith will grow, your joy will increase, and your emotions will take care of themselves.



PS: Here's a sermon on Psalm 51 that examines David's repentance and observes the true marks of genuine repentance. It's a more thorough answer to questions about how to distinguish true repentance from mere remorse.

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T. D. Jakes (and the like) Part Two: thinking clearly about repentance

by Dan Phillips

In part one (which I will assume you've read), I made bold to assert that there were two issues relating to the Elephant Room / T. D. Jakes kerfuffle which (A) I think are crucial, yet (B) haven't gotten the attention that we need to pay them. Interestingly, two Vertical Church posts to which I linked in the first post have since gone the way of an unwelcome Frank Turk comment. Wonder what might happen after today's focus on the second of my two issues?

Let's proceed as I did in the previous post. Let us hope and pray — and, to be clear, I truly do hope and pray — that Jakes comes to repentance on this foundational issue of the nature of God. What would that repentance mean, though? What would that look like, Biblically?

Remember, Luther well began his Top 95 Things Worth Arguing About list with:

When our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, said "Repent", He called for the entire life of believers to be one of repentance

"Repent" is a Bibley word, a Jesus-word. But what is repentance? It isn't a small topic; I work it out on page 150ff. of TWTG, and it takes some doing to understand.

Many feelings or activities or attitudes mimic repentance, but fall short of it. Feeling bad is not necessarily repentance. Feeling humiliated, or feeling bad about getting caught is not necessarily repentance.

What characterizes genuine repentance? The two most common Hebrew words means (A) to regret, or (B) to turn around, return, turn back. The most frequent Greek word means a mental paradigm-shift.

If we learn of repentance, then, from the Hebrew word shub, to repent involves turning around. You were heading in one direction, now you are heading in its opposite. You confess the rightness of God's judgment (Zech. 1:6). You turn from your wicked ways (Jer. 5:7) and, in the same act, turn to God (Isa. 10:21).

Or to take it from the Greek word metanoia, repentance involves looking at things quite differently. You are operating on a new paradigm. Formerly, your calculations rested on the axiom 2+2 = ♣; now, you're starting all over and re-calculating from 2+2=4. You were thinking and living as if God's coming kingdom was an irrelevant nothing; you begin thinking and living as if it were an impending certainty (Matt. 4:17).

But we mustn't confine ourselves to synonyms for "repentance" per se. Repentance involves dealing with sin and its fruits. What other language does the Bible use?

Of course, one big word is mortify. It means put to death or, in the vernacular, kill it dead. You don't want to leave it pining for the Fjords; you want it cold, stiff, out of the game. The opposite is presented in Romans 13:14. I discussed all this at length in another post, to which I now direct you, so that I may come directly to the point of this one.

Here are the facts of this situation to the very best of my knowledge:

1. Jakes has an admitted past in, and a long history of identification with, modalism.
2. MacDonald — and only MacDonald, to my knowledge — is now saying Jakes is a Trinitarian.
3. The Bible reveals God as Triune; therefore
4. Modalism is a heresy.
5. Heresy is sin.
6. If Jakes was a modalist, and is a Trinitarian, then he has changed from what is sinful to what is true and pleasing to God, if only in this one specific.
7. The Biblical noun that describes such a change is repentance.

All that to say this: if T. D. Jakes is a Trinitarian today, then to get there he must have repented of the sin of modalism.

That is the foundation for what follows. And let me say once again with crystal clarity: we all hope T. D. Jakes has indeed repented of the heresy he's (at least) represented and allowed himself to be identified with, and has embraced the God and Gospel of Scripture. That would be wonderful. We would welcome that with joy.

But hoping for the best does not require turning off our brains or our memories.

So: if Jakes has repented of the sin of modalism, and given the Biblical definition and description above of repentance, we have the right (and, in my opinion, James MacDonald has the responsibility) to ask some questions. Among them:

1. When was it that Jakes repented of the sin of modalism?
2. What led Jakes to repent of the sin of modalism?
3. Where are the public confessions of Jakes' repentance of this sin?
4. If Jakes has come to see that modalism is a sin, and that his allowing himself to be identified with that heresy is a sin, how is it that nobody knew of this change of heart except James MacDonald?
5. King Josiah had the Word of God around and did nothing about it. But when he really heard it (2 Kings 22), he took immediate and public action, tearing down altars and destroying idols and putting idolatrous priests out of business (2 Kings 23). What altars has Jakes torn down, what idols has Jakes destroyed, what false teachers has Jakes opposed, and why is the public completely ignorant of it? Or, to be specific:
6. How can Jakes explain waiting months (years?) to make this revelation, and then only in a paid venue?
7. What does Jakes think of the people who believed his teaching, accepted modalism because of it, and died holding to that false god, as he waited publicly to unveil his change of heart?
8. What restitution has Jakes made, and what has Jakes done to correct all the people who either were indoctrinated in or made indifferent to the heresy of modalism through his teaching?
9. What discipline did Jakes accept, and what did he do, when Jakes realized that he had been teaching (or tolerating) a heresy with his very public profile for so many years?
10. Jakes previously specifically refused to disassociate himself from advocates and purveyors of the modalist heresy. Has Jakes now disassociated himself from them? Where did he say this or do this? Name some individuals and groups, so that people can be warned from them.

That last especially shouldn't be difficult. I'm not just blowing smoke on that, either. Look, you all know that I too was in a cult. I explained that at some length. I also explained how the Lord saved me out of that cult.

Now, wouldn't it have been weird if it had been known that I was associated with that cult, but for the last 38+ years I never once said that what they taught was flat-out error, and that anyone who believed it was lost and had no hope of eternal life? Wouldn't it be odd if I refused to disassociate myself from the advocates of Religious Science?

Nothing to do with hate, although it has everything to do with judging the false teaching. You could ask me if I have fond memories of the people, and I'd say I surely do. Do I care for them? Yes. Were they kind and patient with me? Very much so.

Have I parted ways with them? Absolutely, because what they believe and teach is a lie, is contrary to the Word of God, and will keep any adherent under the wrath of God without hope of pardon or life.

See? It isn't that hard. Even a fumbletongued pinhead like me can do it.

So... will MacDonald ask Jakes those questions, on that big bright international platform he's giving him?

Shouldn't he?

Shouldn't someone?

Hey, like our T4G 2008 T-shirts said: someone has to say these things.

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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:

Everyone caught in a sin will either repent, or double down

Sin 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.

Solomon's words, however, stand as true today as they were when first spoken and written:

Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper,
but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy
(Proverbs 28:13)

...and its companion warning:

One who becomes stiff-necked, after many reprimands
will be shattered instantly— beyond recovery
(Proverbs 29:1 CSB)

The 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).

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.

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Camping's way out

by Dan Phillips

Reader Joe Cassada took an idea I proposed, brought his willingness and abundant talent, we collaborated some more, and the result is above. Meant to be read along with the previous posts.

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"Homophobia"

by Phil Johnson



ne of the most effective tactics in the campaign to gain society's silent acquiescence to the homosexual agenda has been the use of the epithet homophobic against anyone who still believes homosexual behavior is immoral or aberrant.

That's a misnomer, of course, deliberately employed to give homosexuality an aura of normality while smearing the stigma of mental disorder on a moral standard that was virtually universal for centuries—until the tide began to turn about forty or fifty years ago.

The suffix -phobia signifies abnormal or irrational fear. But most who oppose homosexuality on moral or biblical grounds are no more driven by "fear" than those who despise pride, sloth, avarice, and adultery on similar grounds.

Yet as the rhetoric of the homosexual lobby becomes more strident and the militancy of their political activities escalates, evangelicals may in fact have good and prudent reasons to be concerned or apprehensive about what may be coming.



For one thing, practically all the arguments that have been set forth in favor of legitimizing homosexuality can be applied with equal effectiveness by advocates for any kind of perversion involving consensual partners, inanimate objects, animals, or whatever. Fair warning: Please don't let your imagination or curiosity run with this—but anyone who regularly counsels people struggling with seared or troubled consciences knows that our culture has fostered many fetishes and perversions too bizarre and too wicked even to mention in polite company (Ephesians 5:12). But if the arguments in favor of normalizing homosexuality are valid, then every kind of sexual debauchery (from pederasty to necrophilia and beyond) will ultimately be able to campaign for acceptance on those same grounds. (Actually, that process is already well underway.)

In other words, the trajectory of the so-called Gay Rights movement is clearing the way for the complete unravelling of all moral standards. If you doubt that, consider (again: with the utmost caution) the annual celebrations of "Gay Pride." These are increasingly hostile, in-your-face, unbridled attacks on whatever remnants of decency may be left in our culture.

But more ominous by far is a stack of pending legislation that in effect will make all opposition to homosexual behavior a hate crime. Such laws have already effectively silenced most biblical teaching on the subject via the airwaves or in public venues in England and Canada. Now strict legislation has been proposed in Brazil that could potentially make it a criminal offense merely to state one's opinion that homosexual behavior is sinful.

Some Christians in Brazil recently issued a manifesto on the issue, and it's worth reading. I was alerted to this by a couple of Brazilian friends—one whose father teaches in a Christian university in Brazil. My friend's father and his colleagues have been harassed, threatened with lawsuits, and showered with the vilest kinds of threats and insults.

So please keep our brothers and sisters in Brazil in your prayers—and be aware that it is most likely only a matter of time before some guardian of political correctness will attempt to make Christianity a thought-crime or hate-crime wherever you live, too. We all need to be prepared for that when it comes, and remember that the apostle Paul counted it a high privilege to suffer for Christ's sake by being imprisoned and finally put to death for his faith.

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An important postscript about Westboro Baptist Church and their ilk It is unfortunate that in the media (and thus in the minds of many non-Christians) the Fred Phelps family have become the representative face of religious opposition to homosexuality. For the record, they are not Christians at all. They are gospel-corrupters who have exchanged the gospel of Jesus Christ for a twisted message of fierce, ungodly hatred. The true gospel is good news about forgiveness and cleansing from every kind of sin—from homosexuality and heterosexual fornication to white-collar sins such as greed and fraud (1 Corinthians 6:9-11). But the Westboro Baptist heretics have exchanged the gospel for a graceless, hopeless harangue that is an embarrassment and an affront to true Christians—and a gross insult to both the Person and the work of Christ. Such gospel-twisting is expressly condemned in Scripture as the profoundest kind of blasphemy, a desecration of the Name of Christ, and a more horrific crime against God than any sexual perversion. See Galatians 1:7-8; 2 John 7-11. Sadly, even some evangelicals who should know better sometimes allow the gospel message to be drowned out or buried under angry and insulting rhetoric, some political agenda, or our own carnal hypocrisy. I've witnessed this tendency, for example, on my own Facebook page, where on a couple of occasions when the subject has come up, some careless brother or sister will post something purposely demeaning toward people who've been ensnared and enslaved by this sin. Jesus didn't treat the Samaritan woman with that kind of contempt. As a matter of fact, in every incident recorded in Scripture where He encountered people held captive to immorality, He responded with compassion and a proffer of deliverance and forgiveness. He called all people everywhere to repent (Luke 13:5; Acts 17:30), but His righteous indignation—His anger—was reserved for Pharisees, gospel-corrupters, and other religious miscreants. We ought to follow His example. Also, be aware when you post comments on my blog or my Facebook page that I have real-life friends who are unbelievers, and all of them are in bondage to some sin or another. Please don't be a bad testimony to them by deliberately treating any class of sinners with deliberate disrespect.

Reflections on the Gospel, repentance, and two wrecked souls

by Dan Phillips

I just read a brief story on John Gardner III, who brutally murdered two teenage girls, and attacked a jogger. He is convicted and, on a plea bargain, will spend life in prison.

But note what Gardner says: he is an animal, he is the sort who should remain in prison for life, if released he would kill again, and he hopes he is himself killed during his term. That or he may kill himself.

Hunh. That's different.

It's different in that you don't usually seem to see killers so bluntly condemning themselves and their actions, and you certainly don't see them hoping to be put to death. I think of brutal murderess Karla Faye Tucker, who after conviction and sentencing to death made a credible profession of faith in Christ — and then began seeking to elude justice (seconded by Pat Robertson).

None of that for Gardner, and that's different.

Well, is it "different"? Not in the sense we've never heard anything like it.

Then when Judas, his betrayer, saw that Jesus was condemned, he changed his mind and brought back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and the elders,  saying, "I have sinned by betraying innocent blood." They said, "What is that to us? See to it yourself." And throwing down the pieces of silver into the temple, he departed, and he went and hanged himself. (Matthew 27:3-5)

Horrible reading, and it's always puzzled me. The human psyche is a far scarier place than the "World's Scariest Places" lists we see each Halloween, and none scarier than Judas'.

In this narrative, Judas actually is more exercised about his sin than many professed Christians I've seen, over the decades. Think about it: Judas doesn't even need to be confronted. Judas sees his guilt, himself; he admits it, unprompted; he admits it specifically and publicly — and he even returns the fruits of his sin, rather than clinging to them and cherishing them...yet he is a hopelessly lost soul (John 17:12).

Christians, in dealing with themselves, often fall short even of this in dealing with their sin, savage anyone trying to point them to Christ and His Word, yet call it "repentance" and call it good enough.

So... how does Judas do all that, and it falls short of genuine saving repentance? I want to know... and I don't want to know.

But Gardner's words — and I haven't done an exhaustive study on him and his case — sure seem reminiscent. He confessed his crime, he admits his guilt, he is paying the price the court-system decreed... and he even wants to die for it, at someone's hands.

Yet in the words I've seen quoted, Gardner doesn't once locate his guilt specifically before God, and he doesn't deal with God on God's terms for it. It could even be an act — the words, the tears, everything.

But it is important to know that there is in Christ redemption and forgiveness and salvation even for such a one as John Gardner III. If Gardner comes to Christ, the Lord will not cast him out (John 6:37); if Gardner calls on the name of the Lord, he will be saved (Romans 10:13); if Gardner believes in Jesus, he will be counted righteous in God's eyes (Romans 3:21-28).

But at this point, Gardner's doing none of that.

Pray for John Gardner. Though he may cast light on Judas now, we have no dominical word telling us that he is without hope. Perhaps, unlike Judas, he will come to know God's forgiving grace.

And let us remember that we need that same grace not one atom less than John Gardner III.

Postscript: how one reacts to the above is revealing. In court, family members express hope or certainty that Gardner will burn in Hell forever. I know that many professed Christians would shrink back from my call to pray for this man, to hope for his redemption. Were he to profess Christ, many would be reluctant to believe his profession, almost hoping it to be false.

Further, many skeptics would mock at the whole thing. "So if this rapist/murderer just believes in Jesus, he'll go to Heaven and walk the golden streets, but if I live a moral life and don't agree with your religion, I'll burn in Hell?" The premise is that (selected) crimes against mankind are far, far worse than crimes against God.

So you see, this is yet another precise place where our inborn skewed priorities show themselves. We all choose our points of comparison very carefully and very wrongly, and end up not seeing just how desperately, how badly, we ourselves need the Gospel of pure grace through Christ alone, received by faith alone.

Is your Gospel that big? Does it reach that low?

You and I had better hope so.

Food for Christ-centered, Cross-centered reflection and self-examination.

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Repentance: the vital element

by Dan Phillips

Preface: I know, this is longer than my usual. But I think that I'd have a mass uprising on my hands if I extended it to a third. So make yourselves comfortable and, without further eloquence....

We began looking at the subject of repentance here on Tuesday. Then over at my place, on Wednesday, we took a little side-trip into the topic of apologies. Now we return to identify what I think is a vital, often missing element in how many Christians think of and deal with their sin(s).

First, though, let me just briefly (and probably unnecessarily) note that both of those posts, as well as this one, could easily be multiplied by a dozen or two. I almost have to force myself to write this, because I am so conscious of the many implications and related issues that beg for development here. Alas, those pleas must go denied.

Let's suppose that at least some Biblical reality has come to bear. Perhaps we fled for a time, jumping at shadows,  knowing no real peace of mind (Proverbs 28:1a). Perhaps we tried blame-shifting (1 Kings 18:17), or lashing out (1 Samuel 20:30) or vain, nauseating shows of religion (Proverbs 28:9; Isaiah 1:12-20). But now the Holy Spirit has arrested us. The Holy Spirit has brought days and nights of misery (Psalm 32:3-4). He has used the word, spoken His "Thou art the man" (2 Samuel 12:7), and His word struck home to our heart.

But what now? We begin to see the sin as God sees it. We admit to God that it is sin, agreeing with Him.

And?

The element I have in mind is mortification. It is dealing absolute, final, howling death to that specific sin, from its root to its branches. It is seeing it dead, dealing death to it, killing it, depriving it of all means of life and burying it.

Here I think of Luther and Paul.

It was Luther who said, in Thesis #1 (timely, eh? I'm here all week! Try the veal!), "When our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, said 'Repent,' He called for the entire life of believers to be one of repentance." And it was Paul who wrote,

So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh.  For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.  For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. (Romans 8:12-14)

Get that: if (A) by the Spirit, (B) you (C) put to death the deeds of the body, (D) you will live. There's a whole theology of Christian living in that verse, but let's keep it simple. Paul is saying:

1. That our objective must not be to wound sin, nor to weaken sin, nor to hamper nor cripple sin — but to kill it, to put it to death.
2. It is we who are commanded to do it, and so we who must do it. To give it no thought, or to shrug it off on God, is to thumb our nose in God's face. Yet...
3. We cannot do it unaided, but can only do it by the Holy Spirit's aid.

This is the Christian life.  It is characteristic of being a Christian. The many, many folks who isolate verse 14 and try to fabricate some mythology of living by semi-revelation does great violence to the context. Let me set it out like this:

1. To be a son of God is, definitionally, to be led by the Spirit. Being Spirit-led is not a subset among Christians. The two sets (sons-of-God and Spirit-led) are co-extensive.
2. To be led by the Spirit is to put to death the deeds of the body.
3. To put to death the deeds of the body is to live according to the Spirit, rather than the flesh.

At least a few of you are shouting "Owen! Owen!" at your monitors. So here indeed is the great man, on this passage, in words of gold that might well be written on the front-page of anyone's Bible:

Do you mortify;
do you make it your daily work;
be always at it while you live;
cease not a day from this work;
be killing sin or it will be killing you (p. 47, Overcoming Sin and Temptation; Crossway Books: 2006, Kelly M. Kapic and Justin Taylor [emphases added])

But so often we do everything but kill our sin. We grant it was sin, perhaps, yes; we feel bad about it, we do a bit of this and that about it, plucking at its edges... yet we keep sneaking it crumbs and morsels, a bit of water here and a bit of wine there. We seem bound and determined to keep it alive — maybe just a little, maybe on the sly; but alive nonetheless.

How so? Well, positively, we find some way to cushion our darling sin, to protect it, to provision it. We focus on others' contributions ("If my wife hadn't...."; "If my pastor would only...."), or others' behavior ("What _____ did is a lot worse"). Or we find some obscure author or big-name apostate who says our sin isn't really sin — and maybe we don't go that far, but we use that to attach an IV to keep our sin hydrated enough to stay alive.

Work at it hard enough, and we can see ourselves as noble heroes or tragic martyrs. I fear I've seen that in folks struggling with temptations to sexual sin, for instance — in theory, they grant the sinfulness of the sin... yet they expend an awful lot of effort to protecting its tragic dignity.

Or, negatively, we refuse to deal death to it. We refuse to tear down our connections to that sin, the monuments we've raised to it, the apparatuses for indulging in it. We hide the magazines, rather than burn them. We don't go into that place... though we drive by it. We maintain those corrupting friendships, relationships, subscriptions, memberships, associations. We are private and soft-spoken in our expressions of repentance. Our disownings are carefully-worded and pride-sparing.

What we need to do, of course, is see the sin the way God sees it. God doesn't understand it. God doesn't think it's technically wrong, but kinda wistfully cute in a way. No, God hates it (Hebrews 1:9), He loathes it, He abominates it.

How much does God hate my sin, your sin? With such a molten hatred that nothing but the death of His dear Son could make it possible for Him to look on us with other than a white-hot fury (cf. Matthew 26:36-46). See Him hanging yonder, on the Cross. Why? For that sin, because nothing but the Lord Christ's death and His blood could atone for that sin, and bring you and me to God as other than damned, doomed, hopeless criminals.

So dash all rationalizations and equivocations and evasions and minimalizations. Burn all bridges. Disown! Flee! Kill! Ask God to help you to hate that sin as He hates sin. Would you be content to share your bed with just a few potato-bugs, or have just a little dog-dung on your ice cream? Ask God to help you see what you did to your spouse, your friend, your parents, your children, your neighbor — ask Him to help you see it as He sees it. Find the root of it in your heart. Pour spiritual Round-up on it, kill it dead, all of it, roots to branches. Don't rest, don't think it's done, until it's gone, and all traces renounced, disowned, dead by your own hand.

This is part of what it means to "put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires" (Romans 13:14).

I'll close with words far better than mine; I recommend that you read them aloud:

The Christian is to proclaim and prosecute an irreconcilable war against his bosom sins; those sins which have lain nearest his heart, must now be trampled under his feet. ...Soul, take thy lust, thy only lust, which is the child of thy dearest love, thy Isaac, the sin which has caused most joy and laughter, from which thou has promised thyself the greatest return of pleasure or profit; as ever thou lookest to see my face with comfort, lay hands on it and offer it up: pour out the blood of it before me; run the sacrificing knife of mortification into the very heart of it; and this freely, joyfully, for it is no pleasing sacrifice that is offered with a countenance cast down — and all this now, before thou hast one embrace more from it.

...Who is able to express the conflicts, the wrestlings, the convulsions of spirit the Christian feels, before he can bring his heart to this work? Or who can fully set forth the art, the rhetorical insinuations, with which such a lust will plead for itself? One while Satan will extenuate and mince the matter: It is but a little one, O spare it, and thy soul shall live for all that. Another while he flatters the soul with the secrecy of it: Thou mayest keep me and thy credit also; I will not be seen abroad in thy company to shame thee among thy neighbors; shut me up in the most retired room thou hast in thy heart, from the hearing of others, if thou wilt only let me now and then have the wanton embraces of thy thoughts and affections in secret. ...Now what resolution doth it require to break through such violence and importunity, and notwithstanding all this to do present execution? Here the valiant swordsmen of the world have showed themselves mere cowards who have come out of the field with victorious banners, and then lived, yea, died slaves to a base lust at home. As one could say of a great Roman captain who, as he rode in his triumphant chariot through Rome, had his eye never off a courtezan that walked along the street: Behold, how this goodly captain, that had conquered such potent armies, is himself conquered by one silly woman. (The Christian in Complete Armour, William Gurnall (Banner of Truth: 1995 [reprint of 17th century work]), p. 13)

"Be killing sin, or it will be killing you." Amen.

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Repentance: fake and real

by Dan Phillips

False repentance is worse than no repentance.

Scenario: a professed believer sins. (It happens, sadly.) Or he finds himself beset with strong temptation to sin (which also happens). Now what?

Problems. The course forward is dangerous, and riddled with booby-traps.

The big problem, of course, is the human heart. It's a slimy, "tricksy" con-artist (Jeremiah 17:9). It will fool us, in whichever of a dozen ways proves effective. There are enough traps and snares in our own hearts that we hardly need a crafty devil on the outside to be in peril — yet there is one, and he has designs on us.

What happens. Often the devil and our heart collude to convince us that, ahem, our sewage doesn't smell. That is, sin isn't so "sinny" when it's sinned by us. Sin out-there is a nasty, vicious, repugnant thing. Nobody should indulge in it. But sin in-here is noble, romantic, tragic, perhaps even heroic. (See this post, especially numbers 4-6, 12-14.)

It is okay with the world, the flesh, and the devil if you do anything about sin — except one thing.

What we will see, accordingly, is people who grant they "did wrong," in general and non-specific terms. They made a mistake. They erred. They did bad things... of some sort.

Or they will focus on the periphera of their sin, the leaves instead of the root.

Or they will make little of their responsibility, and much of others' contribution.

I saw this sort of thing once, many years ago. A married Christian friend committed adultery. His wife put him out, and he spent the night at my house.

He seemed chastened... but then he talked. How was he processing what he'd done, in his heart?

Wellsir, he told me that he thought maybe this whole thing was the Lord's will, because the other woman's marriage wasn't good, and his marriage wasn't great, and....

Just pause right there for a moment. This was a Baptist, evangelical Christian, going to a good, Bible-teaching church. He had committed adultery, a pretty unambiguous act, pretty unambiguously sinful. Yet he not only had a rationalization for it, but he ended up making it something that was pleasing to God, something that was of the Lord! Not only did the sewage not stink... it actually had a rather pleasant fragrance.

How could that happen?

But this poor soul is hardly singular. I have heard all sorts of folks talk about all sorts of plain, straightforward, primary-colored sins in wistful, longing tones, or in terms that end up making their bad not so bad after all. Some sins are bad, yes; but surely this sin is different. Surely my sin is different. It is a noble, brave, manly/assertive act. It is necessary, wise, even pleasing to God.

And even if we abstain from the act, we still cherish and protect the temptation. I've seen that as well. A man or woman is not (pursuing sexual immorality or perversion, sinning against their parents or spouse, etc.), true; but hear how (s)he talks about it. You get the impression that it isn't really that vile, after all. Let someone rip the mask off of marital treachery or sexual immorality or perversion, and watch how the "but-but-but" beast shows its head, how crucial it becomes to hear "the other side." We mustn't make (homosexuality, adultery, false doctrine, abusing one's spouse) look that bad.

What must happen: repentance. I said that sin's allies are fine with our doing anything about sin except one thing. What is that one thing?

Well, of course, in general terms, it's repentance.

Now that's a good Bible word. Most OT occurrence translate a term that actually means to turn around, to turn back. It depicts turning away from evil (cf. Ezekiel 14:6; 18:30), and turning back, returning to Yahweh (Zechariah 1:3).

Usually the NT word is a form of metanoeō. Though the definition has been abused, it does mean fundamentally to change one's mind. Our problem with that gloss, I think, is that we confuse changing one's mind with merely changing one's opinion about something, as if one were going to order a burger and instead goes for a club sandwich. We hear it as a light, shallow pivot — which repentance certainly is not.

Perhaps it would be better to explain metanoein as to transform one's mind. It envisions a root-to-branches paradigm-shift which always and necessarily issues in a change of behavior (Acts 26:20). If there is fruit that is appropriate to repentance (Matthew 3:8), then equally there must be fruit that is inappropriate to genuine repentance — such fruit as I briefly alluded to, above.

One would hope we would be in fundamental agreement thus far.

But there is a crucial element to repentance that I find missing in the thinking of many. And that element is...

...the topic of Thursday's post, Lord willing.

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Studies in repentance, and not (1): "my sentence inconveniences me!"

by Dan Phillips

[Parental warning: it delights me that some kids read my blogs. In this case, however, you should read beforehand, and decide how to proceed.]

I've seen enough stories similar to the following one, that it finally occurs to me that a series might be in order. I begin, though, by noting that this (like any such post) is written under the provisional assumption that the news article is accurate.

The Bible says a lot about repentance. The common Hebrew verbs used are one that means to regret, feel sorrow; and another that means to turn around, to do an about-face. The most common Greek verb means to have a paradigm-shift, a change of mind that issues in changed behavior.

For our PoMo culture — where if you simply say you're a butterfly, then by jingo you are a butterfly — it is important to remember John the Baptist's words: "Bear fruit in keeping with repentance" (Matthew 3:8). Nor can any take shelter in the fiction that repentance is an exclusively Old Covenant notion, for Paul sums up his New Covenant ministry as declaring "first to those in Damascus, then in Jerusalem and throughout all the region of Judea, and also to the Gentiles, that they should repent and turn to God, performing deeds in keeping with their repentance" (Acts 26:20).

There is forgiveness in God, but the forgiveness is conditioned on repentance.  God has nothing happy, sweet nor head-patting to say to the man or woman who refuses to repent. "Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper," God warns, adding "but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy" (Proverbs 28:13). But God makes it crystal-clear that "He who is often reproved, yet stiffens his neck, will suddenly be broken beyond healing" (Proverbs 29:1).

So what is our story, today?

Michael Yavorski pleaded guilty to molesting a child. The middle-aged man reportedly "twice fondled [a twelve-year-old] girl and gave her beer." His victim has repeatedly been to the hospital since, and allegedly cuts herself to relieve the tension. The judge sentenced Yavorski to "three months to two years behind bars, plus a year of probation." The "misdemeanors of indecent assault and furnishing alcohol to a minor" do not require that Yavorski register as a sex-offender.

Yavorski's attorney argued that the sentence should be reduced because it could have a negative impact on Yavorski's business as an ice-cream stand owner.

I'll shift gears a bit, and speak as if I were speaking to Yavorski as a Christian, though I have no idea of the spiritual condition of any of the participants. On the face of it — which is all we have — this doesn't sound as if Yavorski has accepted full responsibility for his crime.

Here's what repentance does. Repentance says I and I alone am responsible for what I did. Repentance says what I did was wrong in God's eyes, and merits Hell. Repentance utterly damns the deed, it puts it to death and buries it with no gravestone and no flowers, and repentance turns one from the deed and from everything that gave birth to the deed.

But wait. There's more.

Part of damning and killing and burying the deed involves restitution to anyone affected by the deed. That is the Bible's orientation from start to finish (cf. Matthew 5:23-26). Did you steal something? Give it back (duh) — with interest. "Justice" according to the Bible is precisely the same. Perpetrators are not rewarded with "three hots and a cot" at victims' expense; they are required to repay. There is virtually no jail system in Biblical law.

How would that apply in this case? I don't know that there is anything Yavorski can do directly to or for his victim, except stay far away from her forever. Obviously, if he lied about her or otherwise slandered her to cover up his crime, he would need to undo that emphatically. But I would think that he would, at the least, accept his sentence and not complain of the inconvenience it cost him.

The perspective would be: I never ever should have done this, and so I will accept what justice requires, and then do more.

For our purposes, I don't want to get into a debate as to whether the sentence is justice in the absolute sense.

The point is, this is justice according to our system, and like Cain, Yavorski is saying — not "My guilt is greater than I can bear," but — "My punishment is greater than I can bear" (Genesis 4:13).

Which isn't, as far as I can see, repentance.

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February 11: the most pivotal day in my life (part two [requested classic re-post] )

by Dan Phillips

My problems

So, as I explained, I had two problems. The minor problem was Jesus, the major problem was me.

How can I say Jesus was a "minor" problem? As I explained, I had this nagging awareness that His teaching wasn't really quite what my cult made it out to be. But in itself, that wasn't a huge issue. Jesus was one religious teacher among many. A really impressive "one," true; but just one. Knowing that He disagreed with me was not, in itself, shattering.

But when conjoined to the major problem, it took on a different significance. See, I had realized that I basically was the founder of my religion. I was my authority, my judgment and character were the basis. And I'd come to see that this foundation was irredeemably corrupt.

Praying, but not "through"

So I actually prayed, which was new. We Religious Scientists (like Christian Scientists) did not pray. To speak to God implied separation from God, and we believed we were one with Divine Mind. So we meditated, we affirmed. We didn't pray.

But now I did, as I became increasingly gripped with a desire to know God, and be saved—though I'd not have used the word—from the wretched heap of my internal life.

I remember praying once, in my darkened room, "Father—" I got no further. It was as if a voice came back: "Who said I was your Father?"

I had to admit, "I did." And that was precisely the problem.

So, shaken, I prayed that God would lead me to know Himself on His own terms, as He really was, whether He was such as I wished Him to be, or wholly other. I was willing to do anything, be anything. "Even if it means becoming a Jesus Freak," I said, because that was the worst thing I could think of.

Well.

God's mole

Meanwhile, as they say in the movies, I had been befriended by this Christian named Greg. He'd seen me walking home from school and offered me a ride. We went to the same high school, but I hardly knew him. Still, it was nice of him, and became a daily thing.

I asked Greg early on what his religion was, since that sort of think interested me. Greg told me he was a Christian. "If you ever want to know why, or have any questions, just let me know," he added.

"You bet," I replied. That was never going to happen.

Fast-forward a few months of this agonizing process I've described, and that all changed. I had shared with Greg about some of the garbage—though this was not my exact term, you understand—that I was finding within. Greg sympathized and commiserated. He was a very real person, not like most shallow, sloganeering, plastic Jesus-people I had known.

Greg gave me a gospel of John in some modern rendering, which I read. He also gave me C. S. Lewis' Mere Christianity. I liked to think I was smart, but most of it was well over my head. Except one part. You know the part.

I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronising nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.

I remember reading this with a sinking heart. Lewis was talking about me. I was always insisting that Jesus was a great teacher, the greatest—yet I had kept running into things that this "great teacher" taught, that I did not believe, did not want to believe.

And what of that? I'd already established that I, and my judgment, formed no fit foundation for life and thought. But what of Jesus? Here was someone we held to be the greatest teacher, the greatest example, the greatest mystic. His life was a life of integrity. The unparalleled symphony of miracles in his life, with the crescendo of the Resurrection, made perfect harmony with the claims He made for Himself. It all fit. If I was no fit foundation, was He?

So somewhere here I surely shocked my friend Greg by telling him I wanted to talk. And talk we did. For hours, and hours. First, at my parents' house. Then the next day, a rainy Saturday, after I'd been at a meeting for the Religious Science church youth group (I was a co-leader; also, I'd taken two of the cult's four-year ministerial training course).

I threw every question I had at Greg, and he kept telling me about Jesus and what the Bible said.

At the end of our second talk, Greg said, "Why don't you just ask God? Ask God if He wants you to believe in Jesus, in order to know Him. What would you be out?"

Made perfect sense to me. So ask I did.

...and the roof didn't cave in

The next day, I went to church with Greg. It was Van Nuys Baptist church, pastored by Harold Fickett. I remember that Fickett preached like a lawyer building an airtight case. I felt myself to be the defendant, and guilty as... well, as sin. I wish I could tell you what he preached. I can't. But I can tell you it was as if Fickett had read my journal. Hundreds of people there, the man had never met me, but it iwas as if he had m ein his cross-hairs and was squeezing off direct-hit after direct-hit. Fickett absolutely nailed me to the pew. And as it all fell apart, it all fell together.

At the end, Fickett gave an invitation. If you wanted to find out how to know Christ as Savior, come up front, someone would help you. Greg said he'd come with me if I wanted. I did want. So up we went. They may have been singing "Just As I Am," which would have expressed my longing exactly.

The man who talked with me used the Four Spiritual Laws. I remember with crystal clarity when the counselor talked about how my sin separated me from God. This described and made sense of exactly what I'd been coming to see within myself.

Then he showed how Jesus was the sole mediator between God and man, and this made sense of the unbridgeable gap I'd come to see between God and me. It also connected so well with that stubborn text, John 14:6, which had so bothered me (as I mentioned in the first part, and discussed more fully elsewhere). Jesus was the way, none could come to the Father but through Him. Including me.

Then the counselor showed the picture of the chaos of the self-ruled life, and this described me to a "T." I hadn't indulged in some of the particular vices of my generation. But had I loved God above all? Never. Had I taken His name in vain? Constantly and with gusto. Had I dishonored my father and mother? Since I could talk. On and on it went.

And then we prayed together, and I implored Jesus Christ in His fullness to be my Lord and my Savior, to make me His own, and to forgive me of all my sins.

Was it an emotional experience? The emotion I remember feeling first was relief, in the sense that I had come to rest on a real and true foundation in Jesus Christ. "Rock of Ages" was very meaningful to me, as was "How Firm a Foundation." That I now could know God, on His terms, and be forgiven my sins. The next I remember was how new everything was to me—God, me, my world, the Bible.

Almost especially the Bible. It was as if someone had come and stolen that dusty, dry, depressing, dead, irrelevant history-book, and replaced it with something that was electric, something that was alive. I could not get enough of it. On my knees, reading and reading, delving, diving, exploring, trying to absorb the whole of it. It was God talking to me!

And my, how I needed Him to talk to me. Everything had to be re-thought, re-learned: the meaning of God, of things, of people, of self; how to think and decide; how to pray; how to live. I was conscious that I had had it all wrong, and needed to get it right. Because it mattered now.

Everything changed for me on that day, and since that day: February 11, 1973. Thirty-six years, and counting. The progress has had ups and downs, lags and leaps, "many dangers, toils, and snares." But the Christ I prayed to that day became my Lord that day, and by His grace He remains my Lord, and by His grace and covenant will so remain.

Afterthought

But some of that was done "wrong," wasn't it? Altar call? C. S. Lewis? A "voice"? Four spiritual laws?

Some closing thoughts on that, and more, next time.

[This way to closing thoughts]

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