I am surrounded by people praying for revival. This is a good thing, but I am not always encouraged by it. I want the prayers to be answered literally, but fear that the people praying do not know what they are asking for. I am also sometimes concerned when we start expecting it with an attitude of ought, that is, when we start thinking that God ought to give us a revival. These are hard to avoid, and I have certainly fallen into them on occasion, but they are no better for that.
God owes us nothing. The gospel is that he gave us his only son. Now, if he has given us his son, anything more is as nothing in comparison. Thus we can pray boldly for revival. The problem is when we start viewing it as a right. Our faith is a gift, and with Christ comes all else. A revival in the church means nothing less than the resurrection of many dead who sit in the pews. To call it a revival is to admit that we once were, but are no longer, alive. That we need reviving is to imply that we are not vived, i.e., that we are not alive. To pray for revival, then, is to ask God to save those who sit under his word yet do not hear it. Why are we ever not praying for this? That many more would receive the gift of faith--that is revival. Revival is simply missions targeting the churched, and, through the churched becoming the saved, those who see the church being the church will know that we are Christ's church by our love.
This all sounds nice and pretty, but it is not really. Beautiful, yes, but not so much ordered, at least from what we can expect to see. To love one another is dangerous. We are still sinners. We will still rub each other the wrong way. We are all broken in our ways, and only Christ can fix us, and, though we are made new when we are saved by him, we are not quite as we will be. We are fixed, yet we are not fixed. We have been taken out from this world, yet we are still in it. We still struggle against sin, and some of us will not like to be around others of us, on account of our sins, yet we must see each other as forgiven, since that is how we are in Christ. Sinning, but also justified. Weep for the sin, weep with the sinner. Struggle to see in each person the image of God, how they reflect the nature of God in their life and in their works. May we be unwound to reflect him as we ought, and may we bear with one another as God bears with us, even though it costs us our lives.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Missions
I would like to draw a distinction between the goal and the reward of a thing. The goal is the purpose, the it serves. The reward is the "why," the reason we do it. They are usually looked at as the same thing, but they can be distinguished, at least, and separated.
First, what is the goal of missions? To change lives and cultures so that they image God's love. To bring lost people to Christ. Good things. We go to preach the gospel which justifies, sanctifies, and ultimately glorifies. No surprises here.
Second, what is the reward of missions? That is, why do it? If we do it for the sake of changing people's lives, bringing them to Christ, then what happens when it looks like no one is listening? You may never see the fruit of your labor. You may plant, but never know it. If God were to call you to serve, and told you that absolutely nothing would change on this world, how would you respond? Thus, the reward of missions must be separate from the simple aim of it. The reward of missions is the kingdom of God, that is, God's glory. Whatever we do, we do for the glory of God, that is the reward. If we ask merely to see the fruit of our labors, as great a reward as that may seem, it pales in significance compared to knowing God, my rock and my redeemer.
We might not reach the goal ourselves, for we are not in control of that. We may only step out in faith, knowing that our reward is in heaven. Thus we are invincible to the arrows of failure, for we are in Christ, and so, for us to fail with that finality would be for Christ to fail, yet he overcame all things, even death, that we might live in his resurrection. Thus, as Christ loses no one, so, as we are in Christ, we do not fail to save any. This is how we have a reward which is kept for us in heaven, whatever becomes of the goal: Christ is victorious over sin and death, thus there is nothing more for us to conquer.
Go and make disciples, and Christ is with us always.
First, what is the goal of missions? To change lives and cultures so that they image God's love. To bring lost people to Christ. Good things. We go to preach the gospel which justifies, sanctifies, and ultimately glorifies. No surprises here.
Second, what is the reward of missions? That is, why do it? If we do it for the sake of changing people's lives, bringing them to Christ, then what happens when it looks like no one is listening? You may never see the fruit of your labor. You may plant, but never know it. If God were to call you to serve, and told you that absolutely nothing would change on this world, how would you respond? Thus, the reward of missions must be separate from the simple aim of it. The reward of missions is the kingdom of God, that is, God's glory. Whatever we do, we do for the glory of God, that is the reward. If we ask merely to see the fruit of our labors, as great a reward as that may seem, it pales in significance compared to knowing God, my rock and my redeemer.
We might not reach the goal ourselves, for we are not in control of that. We may only step out in faith, knowing that our reward is in heaven. Thus we are invincible to the arrows of failure, for we are in Christ, and so, for us to fail with that finality would be for Christ to fail, yet he overcame all things, even death, that we might live in his resurrection. Thus, as Christ loses no one, so, as we are in Christ, we do not fail to save any. This is how we have a reward which is kept for us in heaven, whatever becomes of the goal: Christ is victorious over sin and death, thus there is nothing more for us to conquer.
Go and make disciples, and Christ is with us always.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Words, Revelation, and Humanity
"Words are inadequate," "Christ is God veiled in human flesh," "It is a mystery," these statements are often easy for Christians to agree with.
And what choice do we have? The Bible is written in words, we preach in human words, we counsel each other and get to know each other by exchanging human words.
Words are hard, yes, but we would not be frustrated by their inadequacy if they were truly inadequate. Words were made for communication. This is what they were made for, but we find it hard to use them. It is not that they are inadequate, but that we do not know how to use them. Perhaps our vocabulary is to small, now, but then we invent words, or talk around it. The trouble is not with the words, but with our ability to use this gift.
God does not condescend to use words, rather we, because we are made in his image, are above the beasts in that we can use these rich languages. Yes, we misuse it, we can be vague, but we can clarify. That words are inadequate is false, but I do appreciate this: we must be careful in how we say things, that we say what is true, and that we say it clearly.
Why do we say that God veiled himself in human flesh? Was he not fully man? Is there something offensive about that? Our problem is not that we are human, but that we are not truly human, for humans were made in the image of God, and we were made to find our joy in the glory of God. It is not what we are that is the problem, but what we are not. Christ's humanness did not entail sin nature, for that is not essential to being human, rather, it is death in us. To the extent that we are sinful, we are not human.
But, honestly, where does the idea of mystery as something unknowable come from? Is that really what the word means in the Bible? Certainly we cannot know all there is to know about God, for he is vast, but that does not mean we cannot try to understand more.
Words
Who hasn't found words to be inadequate? I know how that feels, I've even said it, but what does that mean? Are the words really inadequate? God created the world by his word: he spoke and it was done. Words are powerful. Who can tame the tongue? Are the words inadequate, or do we just not know how to say what we want to say?And what choice do we have? The Bible is written in words, we preach in human words, we counsel each other and get to know each other by exchanging human words.
Words are hard, yes, but we would not be frustrated by their inadequacy if they were truly inadequate. Words were made for communication. This is what they were made for, but we find it hard to use them. It is not that they are inadequate, but that we do not know how to use them. Perhaps our vocabulary is to small, now, but then we invent words, or talk around it. The trouble is not with the words, but with our ability to use this gift.
God does not condescend to use words, rather we, because we are made in his image, are above the beasts in that we can use these rich languages. Yes, we misuse it, we can be vague, but we can clarify. That words are inadequate is false, but I do appreciate this: we must be careful in how we say things, that we say what is true, and that we say it clearly.
Veiled in Human Flesh
This is a weird phrase. Christ came to reveal God to us! Yes, the glory is veiled so that all who saw did not immediately die from the overwhelming guilt, but that was the fullness of God in him. The veil was torn as Jesus hung upon the cross.Why do we say that God veiled himself in human flesh? Was he not fully man? Is there something offensive about that? Our problem is not that we are human, but that we are not truly human, for humans were made in the image of God, and we were made to find our joy in the glory of God. It is not what we are that is the problem, but what we are not. Christ's humanness did not entail sin nature, for that is not essential to being human, rather, it is death in us. To the extent that we are sinful, we are not human.
Mystery
I am comfortable with mystery. I am not comfortable with how we use the term. When people call something a "mystery of God" they often seem to be offering an excuse for why we do not know the answer to something. Excuse! Is that being comfortable with mystery? I am willing that some things may be unknowable, but I see no reason why that should stop us from trying, humbly and by the power of the Spirit, to look into them.But, honestly, where does the idea of mystery as something unknowable come from? Is that really what the word means in the Bible? Certainly we cannot know all there is to know about God, for he is vast, but that does not mean we cannot try to understand more.
Identity
There is much talk of finding our identity in Christ. I would like to distinguish between two parts of identity. On the one hand, there is what we find value in, on the other, who we are at a more personal level.
This identity we also, in a sense, find in Christ. In him we are redeemed to live as we were meant to live. Not only does this mean that we get to be who we were meant to be as humans: to glorify God and enjoy him forever, but also that we get to be who we were meant to be as ourselves.
However, it is not as though this identity is not there apart from Christ, rather, we deny it. This kind of identity does not involve our sin nature, but because of our sin nature it doe snot come out as it ought, for it depends on the general human nature as a being who is made to glorify and enjoy God forever. Thus we cannot be our true selves apart from being true humans, i.e., glorifying and enjoying God. This is who we ought to be, who we are in Christ, who we will be in heaven, and who we would have been apart from the fall. It is not the self we deny, nor the life we lose, for the self we deny and the life we lose are neither a true self nor a true life, but a life and self twisted by sin. The self does not change, but the one who owns and rules it does.
This self, however, is not where we find our value, for it has value only insofar as it displays the glory of God, that is, its value is Christ. It does, however, have value, though that value is the same in all people, and, though defiled by sin to varying degrees, all which are sanctified will be equally God displaying when they are sanctified. This self will most be itself in worship of God, but various selves may do this in various ways, for the Church is a body with many members, and not all members have the same function.
Value
Our identity in the sense of what about us we look to to say "I am valuable" should be answered by Christ. He is our righteousness, and all that we do, apart from him, are as worthless rags. If we find value in some aspect of ourselves in and of ourselves then we are not getting to the source of the value. If I "have not love, I am nothing" 1 Corinthians 13:2, and "Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God." 1 John 4:7. More than this, it is his righteousness which we have, and it is not our own doing, rather, we have this treasure in fragile jars of clay. This is the way that I hear identity most often spoken of in sermons and the circles in which I read (See here).Person
The second sort of identity, which I want to distinguish from the first, is how the person is personality-wise. Not what their character is like, nor what they do, but who they are deep down. This may be exhibited in their character and actions, but it won't necessarily be.This identity we also, in a sense, find in Christ. In him we are redeemed to live as we were meant to live. Not only does this mean that we get to be who we were meant to be as humans: to glorify God and enjoy him forever, but also that we get to be who we were meant to be as ourselves.
However, it is not as though this identity is not there apart from Christ, rather, we deny it. This kind of identity does not involve our sin nature, but because of our sin nature it doe snot come out as it ought, for it depends on the general human nature as a being who is made to glorify and enjoy God forever. Thus we cannot be our true selves apart from being true humans, i.e., glorifying and enjoying God. This is who we ought to be, who we are in Christ, who we will be in heaven, and who we would have been apart from the fall. It is not the self we deny, nor the life we lose, for the self we deny and the life we lose are neither a true self nor a true life, but a life and self twisted by sin. The self does not change, but the one who owns and rules it does.
This self, however, is not where we find our value, for it has value only insofar as it displays the glory of God, that is, its value is Christ. It does, however, have value, though that value is the same in all people, and, though defiled by sin to varying degrees, all which are sanctified will be equally God displaying when they are sanctified. This self will most be itself in worship of God, but various selves may do this in various ways, for the Church is a body with many members, and not all members have the same function.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
If We Are Wrong, Does It Matter?
Christianity is made up of claims about the ultimate nature of reality, and about the nature of humanity. In some forms, however, the religion would work just as well whether or not it is true. If God stopped existing, would you notice? Or do merely depend on the belief that there is a good and loving God, and not on the good and loving God himself? Do you live the way you live because it is what your logical construction of belief says it makes sense to do, or because the Spirit of God empowers you to?
A God who would work just as well for you if he did not exist, so long as you thought he did, is basically a deistic god. The deist god is safe and comfortable, but it is also useless and impersonal. Does God love you simply as the result of a syllogism? All Christians are loved by God, I am a Christian, therefore I am loved by God. Fine, but do you believe it? Yes, God loves all his creation, but he loves each part in particular by itself.
This is one of the things that I have seen in worldbuilding: when I create something, even if I don't like how it turned out, there is a sort of love which I have for it. Even if I scrap it, there is a sort of love which I feel for what I make. God is the creator of the world. That does not mean he is far off. It does not mean that he is so much greater than us that we are unimportant. The fact that he made us is enough to know that he loves us each individually as who we are. He is the potter, we are the clay. He has his hands in us, whether to save us or no, but for his glory. If we are cogs in a machine, we are cogs in a very special machine, and God loves each cog, for he fashioned us each. If God is playing chess with the universe, he loves each piece and hates to lose any. These are true metaphors, but the way they come out when we see the love of a creator is such that they are somewhat misleading. We are cogs in a machine. We are cogs, in a machine, and God loves us each personally. The machine was not made on an assembly line, but by the hand of God. The machine is not as it ought to be, rather, God made it perfectly, in his love, and it was corrupted, and now, that God might receive glory, he is making all things right.
When there is some mechanical thingamabob that has broken, and I am trying to fix it, I have to go down to the level of the thingamabob. I have to love it, in a way. And it does not make me any less of a human to reach down into the brokenness of a thing to fix it. We are all broken, and God is a great repairman. He does not repair us mechanically, merely following directions. He knows us better than that. He repairs us lovingly, perfectly. He reaches down into the messiness of our lives, and loves us, and takes our brokenness and makes it to his glory.
Then is it brokenness? It is a beautiful brokenness unto the glory of God, and therefore I love that I am broken that it might result to the glory of God, for that is where I find my joy. So I rejoice in all things, for in all things God receives the glory. If I have reason to be glad, then it is God who grants it. If I have reason to mourn, then it is God who sustains me through it. So whether I laugh or weep, I have joy that it is all to the glory of God. Praise God that I am broken, for in my brokenness, I am fixed. For I was made to glorify God, and in my brokenness I do that, and so do what I was made to do.
And if God is not? Well, that is absurd. For who is it who has given me words to say which I could not have thought of on my own? Who has opened my eyes to see what I could not otherwise have seen? I depend on him every day to make me able to do his will. If he is not the one who made me, and all creation with me, then how is it that I love anyone else? If he were not, then I would not have the power to love, nor the wisdom to see and speak the truth in love, nor the care to live, nor the courage to weep, nor the safety to laugh. And I would be nothing--a stone cold heart arguing against all that is, a crafty and evil man.
A God who would work just as well for you if he did not exist, so long as you thought he did, is basically a deistic god. The deist god is safe and comfortable, but it is also useless and impersonal. Does God love you simply as the result of a syllogism? All Christians are loved by God, I am a Christian, therefore I am loved by God. Fine, but do you believe it? Yes, God loves all his creation, but he loves each part in particular by itself.
This is one of the things that I have seen in worldbuilding: when I create something, even if I don't like how it turned out, there is a sort of love which I have for it. Even if I scrap it, there is a sort of love which I feel for what I make. God is the creator of the world. That does not mean he is far off. It does not mean that he is so much greater than us that we are unimportant. The fact that he made us is enough to know that he loves us each individually as who we are. He is the potter, we are the clay. He has his hands in us, whether to save us or no, but for his glory. If we are cogs in a machine, we are cogs in a very special machine, and God loves each cog, for he fashioned us each. If God is playing chess with the universe, he loves each piece and hates to lose any. These are true metaphors, but the way they come out when we see the love of a creator is such that they are somewhat misleading. We are cogs in a machine. We are cogs, in a machine, and God loves us each personally. The machine was not made on an assembly line, but by the hand of God. The machine is not as it ought to be, rather, God made it perfectly, in his love, and it was corrupted, and now, that God might receive glory, he is making all things right.
When there is some mechanical thingamabob that has broken, and I am trying to fix it, I have to go down to the level of the thingamabob. I have to love it, in a way. And it does not make me any less of a human to reach down into the brokenness of a thing to fix it. We are all broken, and God is a great repairman. He does not repair us mechanically, merely following directions. He knows us better than that. He repairs us lovingly, perfectly. He reaches down into the messiness of our lives, and loves us, and takes our brokenness and makes it to his glory.
Then is it brokenness? It is a beautiful brokenness unto the glory of God, and therefore I love that I am broken that it might result to the glory of God, for that is where I find my joy. So I rejoice in all things, for in all things God receives the glory. If I have reason to be glad, then it is God who grants it. If I have reason to mourn, then it is God who sustains me through it. So whether I laugh or weep, I have joy that it is all to the glory of God. Praise God that I am broken, for in my brokenness, I am fixed. For I was made to glorify God, and in my brokenness I do that, and so do what I was made to do.
And if God is not? Well, that is absurd. For who is it who has given me words to say which I could not have thought of on my own? Who has opened my eyes to see what I could not otherwise have seen? I depend on him every day to make me able to do his will. If he is not the one who made me, and all creation with me, then how is it that I love anyone else? If he were not, then I would not have the power to love, nor the wisdom to see and speak the truth in love, nor the care to live, nor the courage to weep, nor the safety to laugh. And I would be nothing--a stone cold heart arguing against all that is, a crafty and evil man.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Read the Bible to Change?
There is a new saying which I have heard in a few places which goes, "We don't read the Bible to finish, we read the Bible to change." While I agree with the sentiment, I do not think it is quite accurate to say that the goal is change anymore than it is finishing. Sure, we read it to change, but why do we change?
The point of the first part, "we don't read the Bible to finish," is that reading through the Bible is not an end in itself, which is partly true, and partly false. Yes, we do not read the Bible as an end in itself, but neither do we read the Bible for any end outside of itself. We ought to be hungry to read the Bible because in the Bible we see Christ, and then we change in order to show that beauty to those around us and because we see that it is good for us. But it is good for us because it is to be conformed to the likeness of Christ, and we have been made in the image of God and therefore to be like Christ, who is God, is to be like we were made to be.
The second part, "we read the Bible to change," is the part I question most. Yes, when we read the Bible it ought to change us, but that is not quite why we read the Bible. To change up a relatively common question, if you got to heaven, and God was there but you were unchanged, what would it matter? If you are in it for the change itself, you won't get it, if you are in it for God himself, then you will be "changed from one degree of glory to another" because of your love for he who is most glorious. The reason it would matter, is that to be in the presence of the holy God and still fallen would result in a crushing sense of how unholy we are.
This logic works for all sorts of spiritual disciplines. We don't fast to finish, nor for self-improvement, but out of a desire for more of God. We do not pray to pray, nor to get anything, but to seek God's will and his aid, to gain more of God in our lives. To pray that God do something for us, then, is to ask that he show us himself more in us. The goal of preaching, likewise, is to show forth God, and thereby glorify him.
The point of the first part, "we don't read the Bible to finish," is that reading through the Bible is not an end in itself, which is partly true, and partly false. Yes, we do not read the Bible as an end in itself, but neither do we read the Bible for any end outside of itself. We ought to be hungry to read the Bible because in the Bible we see Christ, and then we change in order to show that beauty to those around us and because we see that it is good for us. But it is good for us because it is to be conformed to the likeness of Christ, and we have been made in the image of God and therefore to be like Christ, who is God, is to be like we were made to be.
The second part, "we read the Bible to change," is the part I question most. Yes, when we read the Bible it ought to change us, but that is not quite why we read the Bible. To change up a relatively common question, if you got to heaven, and God was there but you were unchanged, what would it matter? If you are in it for the change itself, you won't get it, if you are in it for God himself, then you will be "changed from one degree of glory to another" because of your love for he who is most glorious. The reason it would matter, is that to be in the presence of the holy God and still fallen would result in a crushing sense of how unholy we are.
This logic works for all sorts of spiritual disciplines. We don't fast to finish, nor for self-improvement, but out of a desire for more of God. We do not pray to pray, nor to get anything, but to seek God's will and his aid, to gain more of God in our lives. To pray that God do something for us, then, is to ask that he show us himself more in us. The goal of preaching, likewise, is to show forth God, and thereby glorify him.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Arguments for Calvinism
I have often thought that one of, if not the, greatest way to find consensus in the Calvinism/Arminianism debate would be to have all those involved listen to the preaching of the rest. Calvinism, it seems to me, provides better grounds for depending on God, and therefore allows an exhibition of his glory farther, than Arminianism does.
I am beginning to wonder about my college's theology for this reason: both of the chapels since classes started have included encouragement that God is guiding us for a good purpose, whether or not it is visibly good from where we stand, and whether or not it involves goods to us. This has been preached without any noticeable caveats about people needing to be sure to follow the Spirit's leading, rather we were encouraged to stop worrying about that. On what foundation can the president and dean of chapel at a Wesleyan, and therefore Arminian, school preach these things?
I would not be surprised if, should the concepts of free will and determinism be totally forgotten for a time, and then recovered during a time of great revival, we should find a great consensus regarding the topic. Indeed, I think we have a good deal more of a consensus than we think, as many Arminians accidentally preach what can best, if not only, be fueled by a Calvinist theology.
I am beginning to wonder about my college's theology for this reason: both of the chapels since classes started have included encouragement that God is guiding us for a good purpose, whether or not it is visibly good from where we stand, and whether or not it involves goods to us. This has been preached without any noticeable caveats about people needing to be sure to follow the Spirit's leading, rather we were encouraged to stop worrying about that. On what foundation can the president and dean of chapel at a Wesleyan, and therefore Arminian, school preach these things?
I would not be surprised if, should the concepts of free will and determinism be totally forgotten for a time, and then recovered during a time of great revival, we should find a great consensus regarding the topic. Indeed, I think we have a good deal more of a consensus than we think, as many Arminians accidentally preach what can best, if not only, be fueled by a Calvinist theology.
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