As mentioned in the previous post, we are bringing this series on the book of Joshua to an end with the sermon on Jos. 24 in this post. I hope you have enjoyed this book and learning about living the Christian life as much as I have. I hope God has used it to bless your soul as much as He has used it to bless mine.
To introduce this sermon, let's review ever-so-briefly: This book shows us the Kingdom of God spreading physically into the land of Canaan as the people follow Joshua and Joshua follows God in the conquest of the Promised Land. And, again, as we have said almost every week as we have gone through this book, they had to fight by faith in God who truly fights for them. Well, in a similar way, our lives are mirrored but spiritually; not physically. Today, we’re following Jesus—the Commander of the Lord’s army to whom Joshua points us—we’re following Him as He spreads the Kingdom spiritually in our hearts and throughout the world. Yes, for us it’s spiritual and our enemies are not literal people like they were for Joshua and the Israelites, but our battles are no less real. And, their battles, just like ours, rested on spiritual principles—fighting by faith—and those principles are the same throughout space and time. So, we’ve learned a lot so far about faith and living by faith from this book as we’ve worked our way through it, and here the story of this book ends with God’s people coming together before God one more time to renew the covenant. And, this covenant renewal shows us the greatest love story of all time—a love story that not only draws us to Jesus but motivates and compels us to live for Him.
If you want to hear more, you can listen to the sermon here or read the transcript here.
I pray that God will use it and this whole series to magnify His glory in your heart and fortify you for the battles of this Christian life.
By His Grace,
Taylor
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Thursday, November 10, 2016
What do Christians do now?
No matter what your personal feelings are about our recent election results, we cannot deny that in our nation frustrations abound, emotions are confused and conflicted, confusion is rampant, and division is evident. Facebook is full of individuals trying to express to the world how they feel, one way or another. Peaceful demonstrations and rioting are happening in many cities throughout the US. America is divided by the celebration of some and deep fear and anger of others. And, Christians might be wondering, "What do we do? How do we respond?"
Well, I cannot tell you everything that you need to do to respond, but here are several biblical guidelines to help us process what is running through our heads and help those around us in our sphere of influence.
Pray for our nation, President-elect, and other government officials: Christians are called to be in submission to the governments under which we live and to pray for our leaders. As difficult as it may be for some to hear this right now, that is what we are called to do by God, and no matter your feelings about this election, you cannot deny that we are a deeply divided nation and prayer is desperately needed. You may be confused, you may be hurting, you may be angry, or you may be celebrating but none of that exempts us from the call to prayer. If you do not know how to pray for our nation, I would recommend reading this article by my senior pastor on eleven ways to pray for the new President-elect and the nation. Pay particular attention to the last way. And, note also that, while in this article he does express some of his emotions about our current situation, he does so in a way that fears God and is honoring to our leaders (see below), as well as brings us back to praying for the good of our leaders and nation.
Take seriously God's Word through Paul and Peter in Ro. 13:1-7 and 1 Pt. 2:12-17: Christian, this may be hard to hear for you right now or it might be too easy for you to hear, but we are called to be subject to and honor the governing authorities. Please take a moment and reread Paul and Peter's words in these passages, and, in fact, if you do that and do not come back to this post: fine, for they will do you more good than anything else I can say. I want to highlight in particular Peter's final command in that section in v. 17: "Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor." We need to take that very seriously, for as Peter says in the beginning of the passage, "Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation." So, what does that verse mean? Well, let's look at the couplets:
Remember that this nation is not our true home or our true hope: Christian, while yours and my earthly home may be in America and we may even be citizens of this nation, our true citizenship is in heaven because when we were united to Christ, He transferred us from kingdoms of this world into His eternal Kingdom. Now we are spiritual exiles in our physical homes. So, while we do want our nation to prosper (see below), we can also know that this nation is not really our home or our hope, and the like the great "cloud of witnesses" of Christians past, we are looking forward to a heavenly city "whose designer and builder is God." We do care about our nation, its people, and we grieve injustice, division, and conflict, but our hope should never be here or in any nation for all of this will one day pass away. Our hope should be in the new heavens and new earth that Jesus has secured for us. The world desperately needs to see that hope right now because it is what causes them to ask questions and gives us the chance the share the gospel.
Seek the welfare of our nation: Christian, while this nation is not our home and we really are citizens of God's Kingdom, we are still here right now, and He calls us to seek the welfare of this nation. In fact, the passage to which I just alluded deserves full quotation:
Be careful how you conduct yourself at times like this: Christian, there are a lot of emotions rolling around right now. Some are celebrating, and others are hurting, angry, and fearful. When such emotional ups and downs run unchecked, it creates conflict, division, and even some violence, as the recent news has shown. Christians are ambassadors for Christ, are called to be instruments of reconciliation, should have gracious speech, and need to be careful never to add to that strife, unrest, division, or quarreling in the way we conduct ourselves in our conversations and especially on social media. (Here is a great post about general rules for posting on social media.) Let me try to give some guidelines that might be helpful:
By His Grace,
Taylor
Well, I cannot tell you everything that you need to do to respond, but here are several biblical guidelines to help us process what is running through our heads and help those around us in our sphere of influence.
Pray for our nation, President-elect, and other government officials: Christians are called to be in submission to the governments under which we live and to pray for our leaders. As difficult as it may be for some to hear this right now, that is what we are called to do by God, and no matter your feelings about this election, you cannot deny that we are a deeply divided nation and prayer is desperately needed. You may be confused, you may be hurting, you may be angry, or you may be celebrating but none of that exempts us from the call to prayer. If you do not know how to pray for our nation, I would recommend reading this article by my senior pastor on eleven ways to pray for the new President-elect and the nation. Pay particular attention to the last way. And, note also that, while in this article he does express some of his emotions about our current situation, he does so in a way that fears God and is honoring to our leaders (see below), as well as brings us back to praying for the good of our leaders and nation.
Take seriously God's Word through Paul and Peter in Ro. 13:1-7 and 1 Pt. 2:12-17: Christian, this may be hard to hear for you right now or it might be too easy for you to hear, but we are called to be subject to and honor the governing authorities. Please take a moment and reread Paul and Peter's words in these passages, and, in fact, if you do that and do not come back to this post: fine, for they will do you more good than anything else I can say. I want to highlight in particular Peter's final command in that section in v. 17: "Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor." We need to take that very seriously, for as Peter says in the beginning of the passage, "Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation." So, what does that verse mean? Well, let's look at the couplets:
- "Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood." First, this means in our interactions in person or on social media, we need to honor everyone, even if we disagree with them. We may feel compelled to speak truth, but we should always speak the truth in love, which means at least that we are "quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger"; we do not berate; we do not mock; we do not antagonize; we do not resort to name-calling; we do not gloat; and we also seek peace, not quarrels. The tongue is a dangerous tool that sets ablaze a world of unrighteousness, and we can do that by gloating or by being angry. Second, this means we need to be especially careful with how we interact with other believers. All of the above still applies, and we need to remember that the world knows we are Christians by our love for one another. The other side of that is that when the world sees us fighting among ourselves, the gospel and cause of Christ is maligned. Please, remember we are to glorify God in all we do and not give unnecessary offense.
- "Fear God. Honor the emperor." First, remember that both Paul and Peter wrote under the rule of Nero when they composed these works of God's Word, and both remind us that we should honor the rulers. I know for some that is hard to hear right now, but we need to bring our emotions into submission to God's Word and honor the rulers who are taking office. That means that we can disagree with them and we can even point out their immorality (we will get to that in just a moment), but, like above, we do not berate, we do not mock, we do not resort to name-calling, we speak in love and not anger, and we do not join with those who do. We show them the respect and honor their office is due. Second, do not gloss over the command to fear God. Fearing God means being subject to authorities, but it does not mean covering up their sins, making light of their sins, or defending their sins. Sin is sin, and Christians are never to cover up, condone, make light of, or defend sinfulness. We are "to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with [our] God." Part of honoring our leaders and everyone is not letting sinfulness and injustice prevail and loving those who are needy, persecuted, and have no voice.
Remember that this nation is not our true home or our true hope: Christian, while yours and my earthly home may be in America and we may even be citizens of this nation, our true citizenship is in heaven because when we were united to Christ, He transferred us from kingdoms of this world into His eternal Kingdom. Now we are spiritual exiles in our physical homes. So, while we do want our nation to prosper (see below), we can also know that this nation is not really our home or our hope, and the like the great "cloud of witnesses" of Christians past, we are looking forward to a heavenly city "whose designer and builder is God." We do care about our nation, its people, and we grieve injustice, division, and conflict, but our hope should never be here or in any nation for all of this will one day pass away. Our hope should be in the new heavens and new earth that Jesus has secured for us. The world desperately needs to see that hope right now because it is what causes them to ask questions and gives us the chance the share the gospel.
Seek the welfare of our nation: Christian, while this nation is not our home and we really are citizens of God's Kingdom, we are still here right now, and He calls us to seek the welfare of this nation. In fact, the passage to which I just alluded deserves full quotation:
Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.Our spiritual exile currently in whatever nation we occupy is mirrored in the physical exile that Israel experienced in Babylon, and that is actually why Peter calls us exiles in the first place in 1 Pt. 1:1, so God's commands to them apply to us as well. We need to conduct ourselves, live our lives, use social media, work our jobs, communicate with politicians and leaders, and do whatever else we do in this life in such a way that it contributes to the welfare of our nation. It does not matter how we feel about our nation or the government, we are called to seek its welfare. As Paul says in Ro. 13:2, "Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment." Now, that does not mean we cannot peacefully protest or call out the sins and injustice of our leaders, for those can be ways of actually seeking the welfare of our nation, but we should not be involved in or condone activity that undermines peace, safety, justice, and the welfare of our nation. We also need to do it in such a way that we continue to honor our leaders, as mentioned above.
Be careful how you conduct yourself at times like this: Christian, there are a lot of emotions rolling around right now. Some are celebrating, and others are hurting, angry, and fearful. When such emotional ups and downs run unchecked, it creates conflict, division, and even some violence, as the recent news has shown. Christians are ambassadors for Christ, are called to be instruments of reconciliation, should have gracious speech, and need to be careful never to add to that strife, unrest, division, or quarreling in the way we conduct ourselves in our conversations and especially on social media. (Here is a great post about general rules for posting on social media.) Let me try to give some guidelines that might be helpful:
- If you are angry, confused, or even celebrating, take that to the Lord first, just as the psalmists did with life's ups and downs. If you are celebrating, remember that no mere man is a savior who will solve your problems. We have only one Savior and Shepherd who can solve our problems, and it is Jesus Christ. All other men are fallen and will disappoint us, so keep your celebration moderate, always looking to God alone for your peace, hope, and confidence. If you are angry, hurting, or confused, again, take those to God first, using the psalms of lament as your guide. A few examples are Ps. 44; 60; 74, and note in particular that, while these psalms express deep feelings of pain to God, they never accuse God of wrong-doing and they move to praise for His goodness even in the midst of hardship. That should be our pattern.
- If you have spent time in prayer, and you still need "to get it out," start with personal conversations with friends or family first, please! This will help you process whatever you are feeling and get a handle on your emotions.
- If, after all that, you still feel like you need to say something publicly on social media or in some other fashion, speak only the truth and do it in love and let "your speech always be gracious." If you are celebrating (and with how much pain there is out there right now, I honestly cannot imagine a good reason to celebrate publicly but perhaps you have one), do not "rub it in," especially when you know others are hurting, for that is provoking and pride at its ugliest, and, again, do not elevate a mere man to the position of a savior. Jesus is our only Savior, and all our leaders in this world are fallen instruments in the hands of God. If you are hurting, make sure that your grief is not the grief of a world that has no hope but the grief of a Christian who has certain hope in Christ. And, if you are angry too, be angry but do not sin, as Paul commands us. An example of sinful anger might be if we do not follow the above guidelines from Paul and Peter about honoring our leaders and everyone, as well as not loving our brothers and sisters and Christ as we should. Hopefully, if you have expressed your pain and anger to God first and close friends and/or family second, by the time you get here, you will be ready to be angry without sin.
- No matter how you feel about this election, remember that we are called to "weep with those who weep." If you are celebrating, the Christ-like and loving thing to do would be to set aside your celebration and acknowledge that there are those who are hurting around you, validate that, and weep with them. In that pain, you can offer them the hope of the gospel, but validate their pain, enter into it, and uphold them through it. If you are hurting too, it seems hardly needful to tell you to weep with those who weep, but perhaps you need to hear that in your weeping, you need to weep as one who has hope in the gospel and pass that on to others. Sometimes in our emotions, we can forget that our hope is not in this world or in the leaders of this world but in God's sovereign control of it (see above) and in the new heavens and new earth (see above). Remember that and lead others who are mourning to that hope.
By His Grace,
Taylor
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Tuesday, November 3, 2015
God as Father: Lessons I Learned as a Dad (Part 3)
A few months ago I began a blog series that will be irregular (at best) on lessons I have learned from being a dad about God being our heavenly Father--i.e. what it means for God to be our Father, how that impacts our lives, our relationship with Him as our Father, etc. I have learned quite a bit since I became a dad because the father-child relationship analogy that the Scriptures use has become so much more real to me. Well, recently I have been thinking about another aspect of God's fatherhood and our relationship to Him.
My son Gabriel is almost three now, and that means he is in the stage commonly known as "terrible twos," which should really be "terrible twos and threes or maybe even fours." That means that Gabriel is beginning to understand more and more how he is individual with a will of his own and he is desiring to assert his autonomy more and more. Of course, every parent out there knows what is coming next: tantrums. Gabriel now knows what he wants, knows that he is an individual, and knows he does not want to be told what to do, which means we see a lot of tantrums. This is actually part of their developmental process and is a good sign in the grand scheme of mental and emotional development, though it sometimes feels like hell on earth for parents.
This past weekend, for example, we took him to two Halloween activities in our city on Saturday, and at both there was lots of candy, which is what one would expect. Well, we, of course, try to limit his sugar intake, but depending on the day and activity, we might bend the rules a little and let him have more than he normally would. And, we did that Saturday, letting him have a little more candy than normally we would. That, however, was not enough. At a local church's festivities, we cut off the candy because he had had more than enough and we were about to go home and have dinner, and all of a sudden his world went from being loads of fun to a tragedy that in his mind would rival Oedipus' discovery that the oracle at Delphi had been right all along. And, while he did not attempt to gouge out his eyes, the screaming and crying certainly made it sound like he had.
Such tantrums are common in our life right now, and my "gut" responses vary. Sometimes the tantrums are so over-the-top ridiculous that it is all I can do not to laugh. Often they are frustrating, trying my patience to its limits. Most of the time there is mixed in with other emotions a sense of loving pity--pity because he does not understand all the things involved in denying what he thinks he needs, pity because I do not like seeing him sad, pity because I am trying to do what is best for him and he does not understand, pity because his immaturity is making him overreact. Lately these tantrums have also been humbling for me personally, which may seem like an odd response, but allow me to explain.
In my prayer life, there are times when I "vent" to God about things going on and my opinion of how my life is going. Now, those types of prayers are not necessarily bad or sinful because He wants to know what is on our hearts and He knows them anyway. And, certainly honesty with God in our prayer lives is something we need to develop. But, there are times where my "venting" is really just a "grownup" way of describing a tantrum. When I look at Gabriel with pity while in the midst of a tantrum, lately I have thought, "God, is this what I look like to You when I vent in my prayers? Do I look like a child rolling on the ground screaming because I did not get my way?" I am pretty sure I know the answer to those questions, and I do not like it.
I think that is probably the case much of the time. Even though I might veil it in "grownup" language and might not be screaming while rolling on the floor, sometimes it is about the same thing--I am upset because I cannot understand why God is not doing something the way I think that it should be done, and I doing whatever it takes to convince Him that my way is better. It may not involve stomping and screaming, but it is not really any better than a tantrum. Yet, at the same time, when I think, "God, is this what I look like?" I also think "Wow, you are so patient, kind, and loving to me to put up with this." With a toddler, we can cut him some slack because he has not learned how to deal with his emotions properly, but I have no such excuses. And, yet, if I--a sinner and sub-par father--respond with loving pity, how much more does God as my heavenly Father do that for me?
If I am moved with pity because Gabriel does not understand all the things involved in denying what he thinks he needs, then how much more is that true of God? The gap between God's knowledge and my own is far greater than the gap between my knowledge and Gabriel's--I am much less than a toddler in my knowledge compared to God. As the LORD says in Isaiah, "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." If I am moved with pity because I do not like to see Gabriel hurt, how much more is that true of my heavenly Father who loves me perfectly? Of course, just like I know it is sometimes necessary for Gabriel to experience disappointment for his own good, so He knows that sometimes it is necessary for His good plan for me. Yet, even though it is necessary, it does not mean He does not experience fatherly sympathy for His confused and hurting child. If I am moved with pity because Gabriel does not understand that I am trying to do what is best for him, how much more is that true of my heavenly Father who always works all things for my good? My wisdom (as limited as it is) far exceeds Gabriel's, and, indeed, Gabriel would not throw a tantrum if he knew what I knew. Well, the same can be said of us. God's wisdom far, far, far exceeds our own, and God always answers our prayers in the way we would have them answered if we knew everything He knew and were as wise as Him. But, just as Gabriel does not understand because his knowledge and wisdom are limited, so I do not understand because my knowledge and wisdom are limited. So, my heavenly Father looks upon me with loving pity and says, "My child, you do not understand, but please trust me, for I love you more than you love your own son." And, if I am moved with pity for Gabriel because his immaturity causes him to overreact, how much more is that true of our loving and understanding heavenly Father? Immaturity does not, of course, excuse Gabriel's reaction and neither does it excuse my "grownup" tantrums, but it does move me to fatherly compassion for my son, and I think the same is true of our heavenly Father.
At the end of the day, I still need to do what is best for Gabriel, as God does for me, but thinking about how much I--a very imperfect father--am moved with love, compassion, and pity for my son makes me so thankful for my heavenly Father who is the perfect Father. If I can respond in love and compassion to my son, most certainly God does to me. Even when I throw a tantrum, He looks upon me with fatherly love because He has adopted me and loved me perfectly in Christ.
There is, of course, another side to this: how I would like Gabriel to respond. I know Gabriel cannot understand many of the decisions Erika and I make concerning him, but I would like him to respond by saying, "You know dad, I don't get it, but I know you love me, so I trust you." Obviously that is pipe dream for Gabriel. Every day Erika and I care for him, feed him, clothe him, love him, give him experiences, and so much more, but when what he thinks he "needs" is challenged, he forgets all that. He so easily forgets how much love we have shown him, so trust in those times is hard. But, am I really any different when it comes to my relationship to God--my heavenly Father? Throughout my life God has provided for me, proved Himself faithful over and over again, and never let me down, and yet when what I think I "need" is challenged, I forget all that too. I bet my heavenly Father would like me to say, "You know Dad, I don't get it, but I know You love me, so I trust You."
That is what the Psalms do. Do you know what the most common type of psalm in the book of Psalms is? It is not the hymns, the confidence psalms or the wisdom psalms. It is not the thanksgiving psalms or psalms of remembrance. It is the laments. There are more psalms of lament than any other type of psalm. These psalms express intense sadness, suffering, and confusion about life, and there are more of them than any other type. That alone should tell us something about the Christian life: God's people experience real suffering and pain often. But, the psalms of lament have a characteristic to them that keeps them from descending into "grownup" tantrums.
These psalms (e.g. Ps 13, 22, 26, 42-44, 74, 77, 79, 88, 102, 130, 143) almost always follow a very important structure. They begin with an invocation to God for help. Then, there is a complaint section that may lead to a plea for help, confession of sin, or cry for vindication. And, then, most importantly, all but one of them end with confident praise to God. For example, Ps. 13 ends with:
I think we can learn something about how we should pray when confused or in pain from these psalms. It is okay for us to pour out our hearts to God and cry out to Him in pain and confusion. In fact, it is good for us to do so, but when we do that, we must never act arrogantly towards God--thinking we know better--or question His character--accusing Him of wrongdoing. The psalms of lament always ground their complaint in the goodness of God and then come back to that goodness with faith at the end, even when everything in the life of the psalmist seems to testify to the contrary. The psalms of lament combine honest, intense expressions of grief with truthful, biblical, faithful reminders of who God really is.
When we pray and "vent" like that, then we are not throwing a "grownup" tantrum but are doing exactly what we want our children to do: saying, "Dad, I don't get it, but I know You love me, so I trust You." That is a righteous lament; not a toddler tantrum.
By His Grace,
Taylor
My son Gabriel is almost three now, and that means he is in the stage commonly known as "terrible twos," which should really be "terrible twos and threes or maybe even fours." That means that Gabriel is beginning to understand more and more how he is individual with a will of his own and he is desiring to assert his autonomy more and more. Of course, every parent out there knows what is coming next: tantrums. Gabriel now knows what he wants, knows that he is an individual, and knows he does not want to be told what to do, which means we see a lot of tantrums. This is actually part of their developmental process and is a good sign in the grand scheme of mental and emotional development, though it sometimes feels like hell on earth for parents.
This past weekend, for example, we took him to two Halloween activities in our city on Saturday, and at both there was lots of candy, which is what one would expect. Well, we, of course, try to limit his sugar intake, but depending on the day and activity, we might bend the rules a little and let him have more than he normally would. And, we did that Saturday, letting him have a little more candy than normally we would. That, however, was not enough. At a local church's festivities, we cut off the candy because he had had more than enough and we were about to go home and have dinner, and all of a sudden his world went from being loads of fun to a tragedy that in his mind would rival Oedipus' discovery that the oracle at Delphi had been right all along. And, while he did not attempt to gouge out his eyes, the screaming and crying certainly made it sound like he had.
Such tantrums are common in our life right now, and my "gut" responses vary. Sometimes the tantrums are so over-the-top ridiculous that it is all I can do not to laugh. Often they are frustrating, trying my patience to its limits. Most of the time there is mixed in with other emotions a sense of loving pity--pity because he does not understand all the things involved in denying what he thinks he needs, pity because I do not like seeing him sad, pity because I am trying to do what is best for him and he does not understand, pity because his immaturity is making him overreact. Lately these tantrums have also been humbling for me personally, which may seem like an odd response, but allow me to explain.
In my prayer life, there are times when I "vent" to God about things going on and my opinion of how my life is going. Now, those types of prayers are not necessarily bad or sinful because He wants to know what is on our hearts and He knows them anyway. And, certainly honesty with God in our prayer lives is something we need to develop. But, there are times where my "venting" is really just a "grownup" way of describing a tantrum. When I look at Gabriel with pity while in the midst of a tantrum, lately I have thought, "God, is this what I look like to You when I vent in my prayers? Do I look like a child rolling on the ground screaming because I did not get my way?" I am pretty sure I know the answer to those questions, and I do not like it.
I think that is probably the case much of the time. Even though I might veil it in "grownup" language and might not be screaming while rolling on the floor, sometimes it is about the same thing--I am upset because I cannot understand why God is not doing something the way I think that it should be done, and I doing whatever it takes to convince Him that my way is better. It may not involve stomping and screaming, but it is not really any better than a tantrum. Yet, at the same time, when I think, "God, is this what I look like?" I also think "Wow, you are so patient, kind, and loving to me to put up with this." With a toddler, we can cut him some slack because he has not learned how to deal with his emotions properly, but I have no such excuses. And, yet, if I--a sinner and sub-par father--respond with loving pity, how much more does God as my heavenly Father do that for me?
If I am moved with pity because Gabriel does not understand all the things involved in denying what he thinks he needs, then how much more is that true of God? The gap between God's knowledge and my own is far greater than the gap between my knowledge and Gabriel's--I am much less than a toddler in my knowledge compared to God. As the LORD says in Isaiah, "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." If I am moved with pity because I do not like to see Gabriel hurt, how much more is that true of my heavenly Father who loves me perfectly? Of course, just like I know it is sometimes necessary for Gabriel to experience disappointment for his own good, so He knows that sometimes it is necessary for His good plan for me. Yet, even though it is necessary, it does not mean He does not experience fatherly sympathy for His confused and hurting child. If I am moved with pity because Gabriel does not understand that I am trying to do what is best for him, how much more is that true of my heavenly Father who always works all things for my good? My wisdom (as limited as it is) far exceeds Gabriel's, and, indeed, Gabriel would not throw a tantrum if he knew what I knew. Well, the same can be said of us. God's wisdom far, far, far exceeds our own, and God always answers our prayers in the way we would have them answered if we knew everything He knew and were as wise as Him. But, just as Gabriel does not understand because his knowledge and wisdom are limited, so I do not understand because my knowledge and wisdom are limited. So, my heavenly Father looks upon me with loving pity and says, "My child, you do not understand, but please trust me, for I love you more than you love your own son." And, if I am moved with pity for Gabriel because his immaturity causes him to overreact, how much more is that true of our loving and understanding heavenly Father? Immaturity does not, of course, excuse Gabriel's reaction and neither does it excuse my "grownup" tantrums, but it does move me to fatherly compassion for my son, and I think the same is true of our heavenly Father.
At the end of the day, I still need to do what is best for Gabriel, as God does for me, but thinking about how much I--a very imperfect father--am moved with love, compassion, and pity for my son makes me so thankful for my heavenly Father who is the perfect Father. If I can respond in love and compassion to my son, most certainly God does to me. Even when I throw a tantrum, He looks upon me with fatherly love because He has adopted me and loved me perfectly in Christ.
There is, of course, another side to this: how I would like Gabriel to respond. I know Gabriel cannot understand many of the decisions Erika and I make concerning him, but I would like him to respond by saying, "You know dad, I don't get it, but I know you love me, so I trust you." Obviously that is pipe dream for Gabriel. Every day Erika and I care for him, feed him, clothe him, love him, give him experiences, and so much more, but when what he thinks he "needs" is challenged, he forgets all that. He so easily forgets how much love we have shown him, so trust in those times is hard. But, am I really any different when it comes to my relationship to God--my heavenly Father? Throughout my life God has provided for me, proved Himself faithful over and over again, and never let me down, and yet when what I think I "need" is challenged, I forget all that too. I bet my heavenly Father would like me to say, "You know Dad, I don't get it, but I know You love me, so I trust You."
That is what the Psalms do. Do you know what the most common type of psalm in the book of Psalms is? It is not the hymns, the confidence psalms or the wisdom psalms. It is not the thanksgiving psalms or psalms of remembrance. It is the laments. There are more psalms of lament than any other type of psalm. These psalms express intense sadness, suffering, and confusion about life, and there are more of them than any other type. That alone should tell us something about the Christian life: God's people experience real suffering and pain often. But, the psalms of lament have a characteristic to them that keeps them from descending into "grownup" tantrums.
These psalms (e.g. Ps 13, 22, 26, 42-44, 74, 77, 79, 88, 102, 130, 143) almost always follow a very important structure. They begin with an invocation to God for help. Then, there is a complaint section that may lead to a plea for help, confession of sin, or cry for vindication. And, then, most importantly, all but one of them end with confident praise to God. For example, Ps. 13 ends with:
5 But I have trusted in your steadfast love;In this psalm, David has not seen any resolution between the beginning and the end, but even when he complains and cries out for God to act, he does not forget what is true about God. Even though it does not feel that way to him, he reminds himself of the truth.
my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
6 I will sing to the Lord,
because he has dealt bountifully with me.
I think we can learn something about how we should pray when confused or in pain from these psalms. It is okay for us to pour out our hearts to God and cry out to Him in pain and confusion. In fact, it is good for us to do so, but when we do that, we must never act arrogantly towards God--thinking we know better--or question His character--accusing Him of wrongdoing. The psalms of lament always ground their complaint in the goodness of God and then come back to that goodness with faith at the end, even when everything in the life of the psalmist seems to testify to the contrary. The psalms of lament combine honest, intense expressions of grief with truthful, biblical, faithful reminders of who God really is.
When we pray and "vent" like that, then we are not throwing a "grownup" tantrum but are doing exactly what we want our children to do: saying, "Dad, I don't get it, but I know You love me, so I trust You." That is a righteous lament; not a toddler tantrum.
By His Grace,
Taylor
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
God as Father: Lessons I Learned as a Dad (Part 2)
A few months ago I began a blog series that will be irregular (at best) on lessons I have learned from being a dad about God being our heavenly Father--i.e. what it means for God to be our Father, how that impacts our lives, our relationship with Him as our Father, etc. These are generally lessons I have known in my head from a theological standpoint, but they are things that did not really become existential realities to me until I became a dad. Do you know what I mean? It is one thing to know something in your head, but then when you experience it or a relationship you have reflects it, you really know it. Well, that is what I mean when I say these are lessons I learned from being a dad.
Recently, my wife and I had our second son--Corban Lewis Rollo. He is almost three weeks old now, and over the past few weeks another truth about God as our Father that I "knew" has become real to me in a relational, existential sense.
I must confess, before Corban was born, I knew I would love him, but in the back of my mind I was worried that I would not be able to love him as much as I love Gabriel. I was worried that because Gabriel was the "apple of my eye," Corban would not be able to be as special to me as my firstborn. That is not because or anything in Corban or even really anything in Gabriel, but it is because of a limitation of love I thought I had. You see, I love Gabriel about as much as I thought I could ever love any child. He was special to me in a way that I thought could never be replicated or divided. I thought that because I am a finite, sinful being, there might be a limit to how much I could love my children and Gabriel had almost all of that. I could not imagine having a capacity to love more than I already did with Gabriel. To put it another way, I worried there would not be room in my heart for another child. So, in my mind, I was worried that either Corban would get whatever small amount was left over or if I were to love my boys equally, my love for Gabriel would have to be reduced by the amount of love given to Corban. It is like I have a glass of water, and it is all the water I can give, so in order to give equal amounts of water to two people, I would have to divide the glass in half. But, then Corban was born.
What has amazed me over the past few weeks with both Gabriel and Corban is that the limitation I thought was there on my ability to love simply disappeared. I love Gabriel as much as I could love any child, and I have also discovered that I love Corban as much as I could love any child. I was worried that since Gabriel was special to me, Corban could not be, but over the past few weeks I have realize they are both special to me in a way that cannot be divided but can be duplicated. That is not to say the boys are the same, but they are equally precious in my eyes in a way I thought was not possible. How can a finite, sinful man like me have such a capacity to love? How can a fullness of love not be divided and yet equally given to both? How can there all of a sudden be a second glass of water for the second son? I am not really sure, to be honest, but I have discovered that is the case. And, I think all the parents out there would agree, and those with more children than me would be able to testify that the same thing can happen many times over.
Well, today I was driving and considering the love of God as our Father. I think sometimes we Christians say, "God loves me with an infinite love" or something like that, but then in the back of our minds we think, "But, God loves all the other Christians that way too, so I must not be very special to Him." We know verses like 1 Jn. 4:10 that tell us "In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins," and yet, I think we look around on Sunday morning and in the back of our minds worry that His love cannot be very special for us since all these Christians are His children too. Am I really special to God? Can I be the "apple of His eye" without that being reduced when all the other elect are that as well? If my experience as an earthly, sinful, terrible father is any indication, the answer to those questions is a resounding "Yes!"
Jesus did not make us children of God and tell us that we can cry "Abba, Father!" without it being better than anything we earthly fathers can give our children. If I--a generally pathetic excuse for a father and a finite human being--can love my sons equally as much as I can love any child (without reducing the love for each as an individual), then how much more is that true of the heart of our perfect, heavenly Father, who is infinite and "is love"? If I, in my finite capacity, can love my children individually as much as I can love any child without short-changing either of my boys, how much more is that true of the infinite, eternal, and unchangeable God? God loves us as His adopted child in Christ and loves other Christians that way as well, but that in no way means each of us as an individual is not supremely special to Him, not the "apple of His eye," not loved as much as a child of God can be loved. If my love can duplicate without reduction, the God who is love, must be even better. How wonderful is that?
O child of God, bask in that love today and always.
By His Grace,
Taylor
Recently, my wife and I had our second son--Corban Lewis Rollo. He is almost three weeks old now, and over the past few weeks another truth about God as our Father that I "knew" has become real to me in a relational, existential sense.
I must confess, before Corban was born, I knew I would love him, but in the back of my mind I was worried that I would not be able to love him as much as I love Gabriel. I was worried that because Gabriel was the "apple of my eye," Corban would not be able to be as special to me as my firstborn. That is not because or anything in Corban or even really anything in Gabriel, but it is because of a limitation of love I thought I had. You see, I love Gabriel about as much as I thought I could ever love any child. He was special to me in a way that I thought could never be replicated or divided. I thought that because I am a finite, sinful being, there might be a limit to how much I could love my children and Gabriel had almost all of that. I could not imagine having a capacity to love more than I already did with Gabriel. To put it another way, I worried there would not be room in my heart for another child. So, in my mind, I was worried that either Corban would get whatever small amount was left over or if I were to love my boys equally, my love for Gabriel would have to be reduced by the amount of love given to Corban. It is like I have a glass of water, and it is all the water I can give, so in order to give equal amounts of water to two people, I would have to divide the glass in half. But, then Corban was born.
What has amazed me over the past few weeks with both Gabriel and Corban is that the limitation I thought was there on my ability to love simply disappeared. I love Gabriel as much as I could love any child, and I have also discovered that I love Corban as much as I could love any child. I was worried that since Gabriel was special to me, Corban could not be, but over the past few weeks I have realize they are both special to me in a way that cannot be divided but can be duplicated. That is not to say the boys are the same, but they are equally precious in my eyes in a way I thought was not possible. How can a finite, sinful man like me have such a capacity to love? How can a fullness of love not be divided and yet equally given to both? How can there all of a sudden be a second glass of water for the second son? I am not really sure, to be honest, but I have discovered that is the case. And, I think all the parents out there would agree, and those with more children than me would be able to testify that the same thing can happen many times over.
Well, today I was driving and considering the love of God as our Father. I think sometimes we Christians say, "God loves me with an infinite love" or something like that, but then in the back of our minds we think, "But, God loves all the other Christians that way too, so I must not be very special to Him." We know verses like 1 Jn. 4:10 that tell us "In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins," and yet, I think we look around on Sunday morning and in the back of our minds worry that His love cannot be very special for us since all these Christians are His children too. Am I really special to God? Can I be the "apple of His eye" without that being reduced when all the other elect are that as well? If my experience as an earthly, sinful, terrible father is any indication, the answer to those questions is a resounding "Yes!"
Jesus did not make us children of God and tell us that we can cry "Abba, Father!" without it being better than anything we earthly fathers can give our children. If I--a generally pathetic excuse for a father and a finite human being--can love my sons equally as much as I can love any child (without reducing the love for each as an individual), then how much more is that true of the heart of our perfect, heavenly Father, who is infinite and "is love"? If I, in my finite capacity, can love my children individually as much as I can love any child without short-changing either of my boys, how much more is that true of the infinite, eternal, and unchangeable God? God loves us as His adopted child in Christ and loves other Christians that way as well, but that in no way means each of us as an individual is not supremely special to Him, not the "apple of His eye," not loved as much as a child of God can be loved. If my love can duplicate without reduction, the God who is love, must be even better. How wonderful is that?
O child of God, bask in that love today and always.
By His Grace,
Taylor
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Good News of Great Joy for All Peoples
So, I am little late on getting this sermon up. It is actually a Christmas sermon, of sorts, for it was preached on Dec. 21, 2014 and certainly has an advent theme. But, just a few hours after I preached it, my family and I left to drive to Atlanta for some time with our families there, and I have not had time to post it since. However, even though it is a "Christmas sermon," it the subject matter from God's Word applies to our lives at all times of the year, so hopefully it can still be helpful to you.
What is the center of your life? That is an important question because the answer tells you what your life revolves around and a little about your goal in life. We might also ask, "What is the center of history?" And, without going into the longer explanation that the sermon presents, the center of history is the advent of Christ. The calendars of the world revolve around the advent of Christ, and every person in the world dates their life, in their day-to-day existence, with reference to the birth of Christ. That tells us what history revolves around, and it tells us that goal of history as well: the second advent of Christ.
Well, Ps. 117, which is the text for the sermon, is the exact center of Scripture, which is entirely appropriate (maybe even providential) because in a nutshell, this psalm describes what the Scriptures revolve around—the firm foundation of Jesus Christ—and they describe God’s ultimate goal: all His people from all tribes and nations praising Him for His steadfast love and faithfulness.
So, if you want to find out more, you can listen to the sermon here or read the transcript here. I pray that it will be a blessing to your soul and increase your joy in Christ.
By His Grace,
Taylor
What is the center of your life? That is an important question because the answer tells you what your life revolves around and a little about your goal in life. We might also ask, "What is the center of history?" And, without going into the longer explanation that the sermon presents, the center of history is the advent of Christ. The calendars of the world revolve around the advent of Christ, and every person in the world dates their life, in their day-to-day existence, with reference to the birth of Christ. That tells us what history revolves around, and it tells us that goal of history as well: the second advent of Christ.
Well, Ps. 117, which is the text for the sermon, is the exact center of Scripture, which is entirely appropriate (maybe even providential) because in a nutshell, this psalm describes what the Scriptures revolve around—the firm foundation of Jesus Christ—and they describe God’s ultimate goal: all His people from all tribes and nations praising Him for His steadfast love and faithfulness.
So, if you want to find out more, you can listen to the sermon here or read the transcript here. I pray that it will be a blessing to your soul and increase your joy in Christ.
By His Grace,
Taylor
Monday, December 8, 2014
Solus Christus: The Good Shepherd
Yesterday we looked at Christ as the King. He’s the King from the line of David that God promised to establish forever, but His kingship is far beyond any ideas we might have of kingship. He’s the King of the universe and the King of believers’ lives. While thinking of Him as King, let’s not imprint on Him what this world has done with kingship. Let’s not identify Him with the dictatorial, self-serving, narcissistic kings the world has seen come and go through the ages. He is King and as King He’s the sovereign Lord, but He’s also the good Shepherd:
When Christians hurt—when life knocks us over and then kicks us while we’re down—we often ask two basic questions: “Can Jesus take care of this mess that I call a life?” and “If He can, does He actually care enough to do it?” Being the sovereign Creator and Ruler of this universe means that of course Jesus can take care of this mess that we call our lives, but that’s little comfort if we don’t know for certain that He actually cares enough to do it. But, Isaiah’s words above remind us that of course He cares—He’s our Shepherd. Indeed, He Himself tells us that He’s the good Shepherd:
On this day of Advent remember the baby born in Bethlehem who is our king, our prophet, our high priest, and the world’s righteous judge, is also the good Shepherd. Remember that He loves His sheep like you and me. Indeed, He loves His sheep so much that He became one of them and laid down His life for their salvation. What other king would do that for his people? None but Jesus. Go to Him with your pain, your problems, your sins, and your needs. He won’t turn you away. He won’t tell you to suck it up and deal with the pain. He won’t tell you your problem is too small or insignificant. He won’t tell your sins are too big or atrocious. He won’t tell you that your need is too trivial for His attention. He’ll gather you in His arms and hold you close to His chest. He’ll love you with an intense love. I know this to be true because He laid down His life for His sheep and there is no greater love than that.
9 Go on up to a high mountain,Isaiah goes on in this passage to describe Him as the sovereign Creator and sovereign Ruler of the universe, but those are both within the context of Christ as the good Shepherd who “will gather the lambs in his arms” and “will carry them in his bosom.”
O Zion, herald of good news;
lift up your voice with strength,
O Jerusalem, herald of good news;
lift it up, fear not;
say to the cities of Judah,
“Behold your God!”
10 Behold, the Lord GOD comes with might,
and his arm rules for him;
behold, his reward is with him,
and his recompense before him.
11 He will tend his flock like a shepherd;
he will gather the lambs in his arms;
he will carry them in his bosom,
and gently lead those that are with young. (Is. 40:9-11)
When Christians hurt—when life knocks us over and then kicks us while we’re down—we often ask two basic questions: “Can Jesus take care of this mess that I call a life?” and “If He can, does He actually care enough to do it?” Being the sovereign Creator and Ruler of this universe means that of course Jesus can take care of this mess that we call our lives, but that’s little comfort if we don’t know for certain that He actually cares enough to do it. But, Isaiah’s words above remind us that of course He cares—He’s our Shepherd. Indeed, He Himself tells us that He’s the good Shepherd:
11 I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12 He who is a hired hand and not a shepherd…. 13 He flees because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. 14 I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. (Jn. 10:11-15)The sovereign Lord whom God the Father appointed to be born of a virgin and whose birth we celebrate at Christmas, is the good Shepherd who laid down His life for the sheep. Isaiah tells us that the same God who is the sovereign Creator and Ruler of this universe—who “comes with might and his arm rules for him” —is also the sovereign Shepherd who gathers His beloved lambs and tenderly holds them close to His chest. The same mighty arm that rules this universe and brings princes, kings, and presidents to nothing: that same arm gently lifts the hurting lamb and lovingly leads the bewildered sheep. Can He deal with this mess? Absolutely, for He’s the sovereign Lord. Does He care enough to do so? Of course, for He’s the good Shepherd.
On this day of Advent remember the baby born in Bethlehem who is our king, our prophet, our high priest, and the world’s righteous judge, is also the good Shepherd. Remember that He loves His sheep like you and me. Indeed, He loves His sheep so much that He became one of them and laid down His life for their salvation. What other king would do that for his people? None but Jesus. Go to Him with your pain, your problems, your sins, and your needs. He won’t turn you away. He won’t tell you to suck it up and deal with the pain. He won’t tell you your problem is too small or insignificant. He won’t tell your sins are too big or atrocious. He won’t tell you that your need is too trivial for His attention. He’ll gather you in His arms and hold you close to His chest. He’ll love you with an intense love. I know this to be true because He laid down His life for His sheep and there is no greater love than that.
By His Grace,
Taylor
Friday, July 25, 2014
The Gospel According to Joseph: Providence
This Sunday's sermon post will focus on God's sovereignty, which is clearly seen in Ge. 45-46 in several ways. One of those ways is providence. Providence has been one of the two major themes that we've seen weaving its way through this narrative thus far, and we have had the chance to talk about it in several ways in several of the past sermons. We are not going to discuss the details of providence in this devotion because the sermon will talk about that, but we are going to discuss the comfort that the knowledge of God's providence can bring to our lives.
The Heidelberg Catechism has a really good statement about the comfort that God's providence can bring to our lives. In question 28 (which will be our confession of faith this Sunday) it asks, "How does the knowledge of God’s creation and providence help us?" And, it answers:
The next line is, "we can... be thankful when things go well." This is a convicting line in a comforting answer. How often do we pray for God to act and then forget to thank Him when He answers our prayers in the way we'd hoped? How often do we attribute success or prosperity to our abilities? When we realize that God in His providence never for a moment removes His hand from our lives, we'll start to see all things as a reason for rejoicing and thanksgiving; we'll start to realize that everything good is a gift of grace from our loving, faithful, heavenly Father (cf. Js. 1:17).
The third line says, "...for the future we can have good confidence in our faithful God and Father that nothing will separate us from His love." This is simply a restatement of Ro. 8:38-39. Since God is always in sovereign control of everything that happens to us and, again, since He is our loving, faithful, heavenly Father, then we can know that nothing will separate us from His love. Since He is sovereign over this universe, nothing can take us out of His hand, and since God loves us with a never-stopping, never-giving-up, unbreaking, always-and-forever love, He will not let us go. His providence guarantees this comfort and makes promises like Ro. 8:38-39 absolutely certain.
And, finally, the HC states, "All creatures are so completely in His hand that without His will they can neither move nor be moved." This is the doctrinal statement that comes from passages like Ps. 115:3; 135:5-6; 145:11-13; Jer. 27:5; Ac. 2:23; 4:23-31; 17:24-26; Eph. 1:11 that makes the three preceding comforts absolute and certain. Without God working "all things according to the counsel of his will" (Eph. 1:11), we can't have the comforts of patience during the hard times, thankfulness for the good, and knowing that nothing can pluck us out of God's hand (Jn. 10:29) or separate us from His love (Ro. 8:38-39).
Now, at this point, the modern, Western sense of autonomy with which most of us grew up tends to recoil and question whether this is really good or fair. Naturally, we want to be masters of our own "fate" or "destiny." But, consider that alternative carefully. I can maybe control the way I respond to what's going on around me in the world, but I can't control the world around me itself. So, how can I possibly think that I can be the master of my own destiny? The best I can do is attempt to respond circumstances that are largely out of my control in way that helps my future, but even then, I'm a sinful man and my even responses are not to be trusted. So, with such sinful, limited ability, how is it at all good for me to be the master of my own fate? Where's the comfort or peace in that? Yet, if God is sovereign and my loving, faithful, heavenly Father, then I can trust Him and rest in His hands. That's what Joseph does, and we'll get to see more of that, Lord willing, in Sunday's sermon post.
By His Grace,
Taylor
The Heidelberg Catechism has a really good statement about the comfort that God's providence can bring to our lives. In question 28 (which will be our confession of faith this Sunday) it asks, "How does the knowledge of God’s creation and providence help us?" And, it answers:
We can be patient when things go against us, thankful when things go well, and for the future we can have good confidence in our faithful God and Father that nothing will separate us from His love. All creatures are so completely in His hand that without His will they can neither move nor be moved.Let's consider this a line at a time. First: "we can be patient when things go against us." When we remember that God is in sovereign control of everything that happens to us and that He is our loving, faithful, heavenly Father (which are the two parts to providence), then "we can be patient when things go against us" and don't seem to make any sense because we can know that one day He will work them out for our good (Ge. 50:20; Ro. 8:28). Joseph's sale, slavery, and imprisonment didn't make any sense to him at first, but in our passage for Sunday, we see that he finally understands (at least in part) God's purpose in it. His patience paid off. The enslavement of the Israelite nation didn't make any sense to the Jews at first, but it does now that we can see the whole story. The crucifixion didn't make any sense to the apostles at first (even though Jesus had told them it was coming), and yet they soon figured out how crucial and important it is. And, I bet there are many things in your life that didn't make sense at first, but now that you can look back on them, you can see at least some part that God worked for your good or the good of others in them. Of course, you may be in the middle of something against you right now and cannot see any good reason for it, but be patient for your heavenly Father is working it for your good. As Spurgeon once said, "When you can't trace God's hand, trust His heart."
The next line is, "we can... be thankful when things go well." This is a convicting line in a comforting answer. How often do we pray for God to act and then forget to thank Him when He answers our prayers in the way we'd hoped? How often do we attribute success or prosperity to our abilities? When we realize that God in His providence never for a moment removes His hand from our lives, we'll start to see all things as a reason for rejoicing and thanksgiving; we'll start to realize that everything good is a gift of grace from our loving, faithful, heavenly Father (cf. Js. 1:17).
The third line says, "...for the future we can have good confidence in our faithful God and Father that nothing will separate us from His love." This is simply a restatement of Ro. 8:38-39. Since God is always in sovereign control of everything that happens to us and, again, since He is our loving, faithful, heavenly Father, then we can know that nothing will separate us from His love. Since He is sovereign over this universe, nothing can take us out of His hand, and since God loves us with a never-stopping, never-giving-up, unbreaking, always-and-forever love, He will not let us go. His providence guarantees this comfort and makes promises like Ro. 8:38-39 absolutely certain.
And, finally, the HC states, "All creatures are so completely in His hand that without His will they can neither move nor be moved." This is the doctrinal statement that comes from passages like Ps. 115:3; 135:5-6; 145:11-13; Jer. 27:5; Ac. 2:23; 4:23-31; 17:24-26; Eph. 1:11 that makes the three preceding comforts absolute and certain. Without God working "all things according to the counsel of his will" (Eph. 1:11), we can't have the comforts of patience during the hard times, thankfulness for the good, and knowing that nothing can pluck us out of God's hand (Jn. 10:29) or separate us from His love (Ro. 8:38-39).
Now, at this point, the modern, Western sense of autonomy with which most of us grew up tends to recoil and question whether this is really good or fair. Naturally, we want to be masters of our own "fate" or "destiny." But, consider that alternative carefully. I can maybe control the way I respond to what's going on around me in the world, but I can't control the world around me itself. So, how can I possibly think that I can be the master of my own destiny? The best I can do is attempt to respond circumstances that are largely out of my control in way that helps my future, but even then, I'm a sinful man and my even responses are not to be trusted. So, with such sinful, limited ability, how is it at all good for me to be the master of my own fate? Where's the comfort or peace in that? Yet, if God is sovereign and my loving, faithful, heavenly Father, then I can trust Him and rest in His hands. That's what Joseph does, and we'll get to see more of that, Lord willing, in Sunday's sermon post.
By His Grace,
Taylor
Monday, December 9, 2013
Solus Christus: The Good Shepherd
Yesterday we looked at Christ as the King. He’s the King from the line of David that God promised to establish forever, but His kingship is far beyond any ideas we might have of kingship. He’s the King of the universe and the King of believers’ lives. While thinking of Him as King, let’s not imprint on Him what this world has done with kingship. Let’s not identify Him with the dictatorial, self-serving, narcissistic kings the world has seen come and go through the ages. He is King and as King He’s the sovereign Lord, but He’s also the good Shepherd:
When Christians hurt—when life knocks us over and then kicks us while we’re down—we often ask two basic questions: “Can Jesus take care of this mess that I call a life?” and “If He can, does He actually care enough to do it?” Being the sovereign Creator and Ruler of this universe means that of course Jesus can take care of this mess that we call our lives, but that’s little comfort if we don’t know for certain that He actually cares enough to do it. But, Isaiah’s words above remind us that of course He cares—He’s our Shepherd. Indeed, He Himself tells us that He’s the good Shepherd:
On this day of Advent remember the baby born in Bethlehem who is our king, our prophet, our high priest, and the world’s righteous judge, is also the good Shepherd. Remember that He loves His sheep like you and me. Indeed, He loves His sheep so much that He became one of them and laid down His life for their salvation. What other king would do that for his people? None but Jesus. Go to Him with your pain, your problems, your sins, and your needs. He won’t turn you away. He won’t tell you to suck it up and deal with the pain. He won’t tell you your problem is too small or insignificant. He won’t tell your sins are too big or atrocious. He won’t tell you that your need is too trivial for His attention. He’ll gather you in His arms and hold you close to His chest. He’ll love you with an intense love. I know this to be true because He laid down His life for His sheep and there is no greater love than that.
9 Go on up to a high mountain,Isaiah goes on in this passage to describe Him as the sovereign Creator and sovereign Ruler of the universe, but those are both within the context of Christ as the good Shepherd who “will gather the lambs in his arms” and “will carry them in his bosom.”
O Zion, herald of good news;
lift up your voice with strength,
O Jerusalem, herald of good news;
lift it up, fear not;
say to the cities of Judah,
“Behold your God!”
10 Behold, the Lord GOD comes with might,
and his arm rules for him;
behold, his reward is with him,
and his recompense before him.
11 He will tend his flock like a shepherd;
he will gather the lambs in his arms;
he will carry them in his bosom,
and gently lead those that are with young. (Is. 40:9-11)
When Christians hurt—when life knocks us over and then kicks us while we’re down—we often ask two basic questions: “Can Jesus take care of this mess that I call a life?” and “If He can, does He actually care enough to do it?” Being the sovereign Creator and Ruler of this universe means that of course Jesus can take care of this mess that we call our lives, but that’s little comfort if we don’t know for certain that He actually cares enough to do it. But, Isaiah’s words above remind us that of course He cares—He’s our Shepherd. Indeed, He Himself tells us that He’s the good Shepherd:
11 I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12 He who is a hired hand and not a shepherd…. 13 He flees because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. 14 I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. (Jn. 10:11-15)The sovereign Lord whom God the Father appointed to be born of a virgin and whose birth we celebrate at Christmas, is the good Shepherd who laid down His life for the sheep. Isaiah tells us that the same God who is the sovereign Creator and Ruler of this universe—who “comes with might and his arm rules for him” —is also the sovereign Shepherd who gathers His beloved lambs and tenderly holds them close to His chest. The same mighty arm that rules this universe and brings princes, kings, and presidents to nothing: that same arm gently lifts the hurting lamb and lovingly leads the bewildered sheep. Can He deal with this mess? Absolutely, for He’s the sovereign Lord. Does He care enough to do so? Of course, for He’s the good Shepherd.
On this day of Advent remember the baby born in Bethlehem who is our king, our prophet, our high priest, and the world’s righteous judge, is also the good Shepherd. Remember that He loves His sheep like you and me. Indeed, He loves His sheep so much that He became one of them and laid down His life for their salvation. What other king would do that for his people? None but Jesus. Go to Him with your pain, your problems, your sins, and your needs. He won’t turn you away. He won’t tell you to suck it up and deal with the pain. He won’t tell you your problem is too small or insignificant. He won’t tell your sins are too big or atrocious. He won’t tell you that your need is too trivial for His attention. He’ll gather you in His arms and hold you close to His chest. He’ll love you with an intense love. I know this to be true because He laid down His life for His sheep and there is no greater love than that.
By His Grace,
Taylor
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Love and God's Glory
"5 Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. 6 So, when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was." ~ Jn. 11:5-6
In a previous post, I wrote a meditation on Jn. 11, focusing particularly on how Jesus responds to our pain. I mentioned in that post that Mary and Martha thought their message--"Lord, he whom You love is ill"--would compel Jesus to come heal Lazarus immediately, but Jesus had something else in mind--something more loving than healing Lazarus. That "something" was the topic of my sermon from Jn. 11:1-15, 38-45 on November 3, 2013.
The basic thesis of the sermon is that God shows us His agape love by manifesting His glory before us, and by doing so, He shows us how we show agape love to others--Christians, our enemies, and everyone in between. You can listen to the sermon on my church's website or, if you like, read the transcript. I pray that it encourages you, displays Jesus clearly to you, and helps you think about how you can show agape love to those in your field of influence.
By His Grace,
Taylor
In a previous post, I wrote a meditation on Jn. 11, focusing particularly on how Jesus responds to our pain. I mentioned in that post that Mary and Martha thought their message--"Lord, he whom You love is ill"--would compel Jesus to come heal Lazarus immediately, but Jesus had something else in mind--something more loving than healing Lazarus. That "something" was the topic of my sermon from Jn. 11:1-15, 38-45 on November 3, 2013.
The basic thesis of the sermon is that God shows us His agape love by manifesting His glory before us, and by doing so, He shows us how we show agape love to others--Christians, our enemies, and everyone in between. You can listen to the sermon on my church's website or, if you like, read the transcript. I pray that it encourages you, displays Jesus clearly to you, and helps you think about how you can show agape love to those in your field of influence.
By His Grace,
Taylor
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
In Our Pain, Jesus Crosses Over
"Jesus comes in side death, inside where Mary weeps. 'If only you'd been there,' we say, grieving over our private hurts and reaching out to anyone who will listen. And just there, Jesus crosses over." ~ Thomas Gardner, John in the Company of Poets
This Sunday, I have the privilege and pleasure of preaching before my church. The passage on which I have based my sermon is John 11--Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. This is such a long, detailed, and rich story that I cannot bring out everything it could say. So, for the sake of time (and the congregation), I am going focus on one of John's major emphases in this story: love. Unfortunately, that means on Sunday I have to skip the portion of the passage where Jesus weeps with Mary and Martha, which shows us such a profound and important aspect of our Savior. But, there is nothing to stop me from writing about it here.
If you do not know the story or remember the details, go ahead and go read John 11. This story is the final, climactic sign (miracle) of John's gospel that shows Jesus to be God in the flesh--Lord over life and death. It also emphasizes Jesus' deep love for Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. In the beginning, the sisters send a message to Jesus informing Him of Lazarus' grave illness because they know how much Jesus loves him. They think that His love will compel Him to come quickly to heal Lazarus, but Jesus has something else in mind--something more loving--so He waits and allows Lazarus to die (cf. Jn. 11:5-6). (More on this to come Sunday.)
When He arrives in Bethany, the sisters express profound confusion and pain. They had waited almost a week, and Jesus had not shown up. They had put all their hopes for their brother on Jesus, and Jesus had not given them what they wanted. And, they both said to Him, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." (Jn. 11:21, 32) Mary and Martha were both trying to make sense of a traumatic situation and Jesus' response to it. They cannot fathom why He would let Lazarus die. And, we do that too sometimes, right? "Lord, why didn't you heal my friend from cancer? Jesus, why didn't I get that job I really needed? Jesus, why am I still alone? Lord, why is my child suffering? Why didn't You come quickly?" Now, those kinds of statements do not necessarily come from a lack of faith. Oftentimes they are simply cries of confusion and pain when we really have no idea how to respond. They are much like the questions many of the psalmists ask: "Why, O LORD, do you stand far away? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?" "O LORD, why do you cast my soul away? Why do you hide your face from me?"
So, how does Jesus respond to us? Well, we know that He raises Lazarus, but how does He respond while they wait for Him to act? He does two things: 1) He reminds them of who He is and 2) He weeps with them. In response to Martha, Jesus says, "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die." (Jn. 11:25-26) He reminds her that He is Lord over life and death; that He is Ruler over everything, even our last enemy: death (cf. 1 Co. 15:26). And, Jesus does this with us too, right? He has given us His Word, and when we turn to it in times of trouble, we can see how much He loves His people and the glorious things He has done for them. When we turn to it in hardship, we can see that He is in control of our situation (cf. Eph. 1:11) and working good out of it (Ro. 8:28). He has also given us the Church. We hear the truth of who He is when the Word is preached, and we hear the truth of who He is from our brothers and sisters in Christ. We need those because in times of hardship, it is difficult to remember the truth, much less believe it. We need to read the truth of who He is in His Word and hear it from His people.
That is not all that Jesus does, however. In response to Mary, He weeps. He does not sit outside our pain in sovereign apathy. He does not simply give us propositions about His power. We look to Him with tears and say, "If only you had been there," and "just there, Jesus crosses over." He sees His Bride suffering, and He enters into the pain with her. In this story, certainly, Jesus knows He is about to raise Lazarus. That was His plan all along (cf. Jn. 11:4). Even in our suffering, He knows the good He is going to work out of it. Knowing the end, however, does not mean He sits on the sideline as an impassioned observer. He "crosses over" and weeps with us. Now, in this story, He does not weep because of His loss, for, again, He knows the end. He weeps because He sees the pain that sin and death have cause those whom He loves. So it is with us. Even though He knows the end, He "crosses over" into the pain and weeps with His Bride. Sometimes He does it through an unexplainable comfort worked in us by the Spirit. Sometimes He does it through the ministrations of a friend who sits and weeps with us. Whatever the ways, He "crosses over."
Friends, if you are in Christ, you have a Savior who is both sovereign over your problems and understands your pain. He is not just a Savior who is in control. That would make Him powerful but indifferent. He is also not just a Savior who understands our pain. That would make Him empathetic but impotent. He is sovereign and weeps with us. This is what He does for us--those whom He loves--while we wait for Him to act, and we need both of those while we grieve and wait. Here, in John 11, we see that Jesus has both, which makes Him the perfect Savior.
By His Grace,
Taylor
This Sunday, I have the privilege and pleasure of preaching before my church. The passage on which I have based my sermon is John 11--Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. This is such a long, detailed, and rich story that I cannot bring out everything it could say. So, for the sake of time (and the congregation), I am going focus on one of John's major emphases in this story: love. Unfortunately, that means on Sunday I have to skip the portion of the passage where Jesus weeps with Mary and Martha, which shows us such a profound and important aspect of our Savior. But, there is nothing to stop me from writing about it here.
If you do not know the story or remember the details, go ahead and go read John 11. This story is the final, climactic sign (miracle) of John's gospel that shows Jesus to be God in the flesh--Lord over life and death. It also emphasizes Jesus' deep love for Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. In the beginning, the sisters send a message to Jesus informing Him of Lazarus' grave illness because they know how much Jesus loves him. They think that His love will compel Him to come quickly to heal Lazarus, but Jesus has something else in mind--something more loving--so He waits and allows Lazarus to die (cf. Jn. 11:5-6). (More on this to come Sunday.)
When He arrives in Bethany, the sisters express profound confusion and pain. They had waited almost a week, and Jesus had not shown up. They had put all their hopes for their brother on Jesus, and Jesus had not given them what they wanted. And, they both said to Him, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." (Jn. 11:21, 32) Mary and Martha were both trying to make sense of a traumatic situation and Jesus' response to it. They cannot fathom why He would let Lazarus die. And, we do that too sometimes, right? "Lord, why didn't you heal my friend from cancer? Jesus, why didn't I get that job I really needed? Jesus, why am I still alone? Lord, why is my child suffering? Why didn't You come quickly?" Now, those kinds of statements do not necessarily come from a lack of faith. Oftentimes they are simply cries of confusion and pain when we really have no idea how to respond. They are much like the questions many of the psalmists ask: "Why, O LORD, do you stand far away? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?" "O LORD, why do you cast my soul away? Why do you hide your face from me?"
So, how does Jesus respond to us? Well, we know that He raises Lazarus, but how does He respond while they wait for Him to act? He does two things: 1) He reminds them of who He is and 2) He weeps with them. In response to Martha, Jesus says, "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die." (Jn. 11:25-26) He reminds her that He is Lord over life and death; that He is Ruler over everything, even our last enemy: death (cf. 1 Co. 15:26). And, Jesus does this with us too, right? He has given us His Word, and when we turn to it in times of trouble, we can see how much He loves His people and the glorious things He has done for them. When we turn to it in hardship, we can see that He is in control of our situation (cf. Eph. 1:11) and working good out of it (Ro. 8:28). He has also given us the Church. We hear the truth of who He is when the Word is preached, and we hear the truth of who He is from our brothers and sisters in Christ. We need those because in times of hardship, it is difficult to remember the truth, much less believe it. We need to read the truth of who He is in His Word and hear it from His people.
That is not all that Jesus does, however. In response to Mary, He weeps. He does not sit outside our pain in sovereign apathy. He does not simply give us propositions about His power. We look to Him with tears and say, "If only you had been there," and "just there, Jesus crosses over." He sees His Bride suffering, and He enters into the pain with her. In this story, certainly, Jesus knows He is about to raise Lazarus. That was His plan all along (cf. Jn. 11:4). Even in our suffering, He knows the good He is going to work out of it. Knowing the end, however, does not mean He sits on the sideline as an impassioned observer. He "crosses over" and weeps with us. Now, in this story, He does not weep because of His loss, for, again, He knows the end. He weeps because He sees the pain that sin and death have cause those whom He loves. So it is with us. Even though He knows the end, He "crosses over" into the pain and weeps with His Bride. Sometimes He does it through an unexplainable comfort worked in us by the Spirit. Sometimes He does it through the ministrations of a friend who sits and weeps with us. Whatever the ways, He "crosses over."
Friends, if you are in Christ, you have a Savior who is both sovereign over your problems and understands your pain. He is not just a Savior who is in control. That would make Him powerful but indifferent. He is also not just a Savior who understands our pain. That would make Him empathetic but impotent. He is sovereign and weeps with us. This is what He does for us--those whom He loves--while we wait for Him to act, and we need both of those while we grieve and wait. Here, in John 11, we see that Jesus has both, which makes Him the perfect Savior.
By His Grace,
Taylor
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Unassailable Acceptance
"Mark, believer, how sure and unchanging must be our acceptance, since it is in him! Take care that you never doubt your acceptance in Jesus. You cannot be accepted without Christ; but, when you have received his merit, you cannot be unaccepted. Notwithstanding all your doubts, and fears, and sins, Jehovah’s gracious eye never looks upon you in anger; though he sees sin in you, in yourself, yet when he looks at you through Christ, he sees no sin." ~ Charles Spurgeon, Morning and Evening, evening March 28
What we celebrate on this day--Easter--is central to Christianity, and it guarantees our full, irremovable, unassailable acceptance before God. Is it historical? Absolutely. Is it important? Absolutely, for as Paul says, "...if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins." (1 Co. 15:17) Christ's resurrection is essential for the completed work of salvation, for an unresurrected Christ still bears the guilt of sin and has secured nothing (1 Co. 15:14-17). As long as He remained in death the righteous character of His work as our federal head and Savior remained in question. Through His resurrection He secured justification (1 Ti. 3:16), adoption (Ro. 1:4), sanctification (Ro. 6:3-11), glorification (1 Co. 6:14), and eternal life (Ro. 6:4-8). Since we are united to Christ in His death and resurrection (Col. 2:12), we have all these things too. Without His resurrection we have nothing.
As Spurgeon says, "when you have received His merit, you cannot be unaccepted." When Paul said, "38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord," (Ro. 8:38-39) he meant nothing can separate us from God if we are in Christ and that includes we ourselves. Nothing means nothing; so you cannot be unaccepted. If you have repented of your sin and accepted Christ as your Lord and Savior, you cannot make God love you any more or any less by anything you do. You are fully accepted before God in Christ, period. Bask in that truth today and every day, and go live a life of thankfulness to Him for it.
Someone might say, "All of my incentive goes away when I know that my acceptance with God does not depend on my success or failure in obedience." But, if you say that, you do not really know or understand the love of Christ. Let me give you an example. (It is a marriage one so for those of you who are not married, use your imagination.) Husbands, would you cheat on your wife, if you knew that she would love and forgive you anyway? (Wives, think about it from your perspective.) I doubt it. Why not? Because her unconditional love engenders your love and thankfulness, and you would not do that to someone you love, even if you knew for certain they would still love you if you did cheat. You would not bring yourself to hurt them that much for your own selfish gain because their love has engendered your reciprocating love and thankfulness. You would want to show them by not cheating how thankful you are for a love that would forgive you even if you did cheat. Now, if you would cheat, then you do not really understand her love or understand love at all and probably have never understood it.
True believers have been changed by the love of Christ and will want to please Him and show Him their thankfulness. In fact, the only people who get any better are those that know if they do not get any better, God will still love them anyway. Does that mean we will not sin? No, of course not (1 Jn. 1:8). But, we do when we forget the truth of the gospel and go looking for what we already have in Christ in some idol that is smaller than Him. We have hearts that are prone to wander, which is why we need to come back to the gospel over and over again. The gospel is not just the flame that ignites the Christian life, it is the fuel that makes it burn every day. Jonathan Edwards used to say, "The key to the Christian life is letting the gospel filter down into every aspect of your life both rationally and experientially." You need the gospel as much today as you did when you were still dead in your sins. Never forget that, and never forget that you "cannot be accepted without Christ; but, when you have received His merit, you cannot be unaccepted."
By His Grace,
Taylor
What we celebrate on this day--Easter--is central to Christianity, and it guarantees our full, irremovable, unassailable acceptance before God. Is it historical? Absolutely. Is it important? Absolutely, for as Paul says, "...if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins." (1 Co. 15:17) Christ's resurrection is essential for the completed work of salvation, for an unresurrected Christ still bears the guilt of sin and has secured nothing (1 Co. 15:14-17). As long as He remained in death the righteous character of His work as our federal head and Savior remained in question. Through His resurrection He secured justification (1 Ti. 3:16), adoption (Ro. 1:4), sanctification (Ro. 6:3-11), glorification (1 Co. 6:14), and eternal life (Ro. 6:4-8). Since we are united to Christ in His death and resurrection (Col. 2:12), we have all these things too. Without His resurrection we have nothing.
As Spurgeon says, "when you have received His merit, you cannot be unaccepted." When Paul said, "38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord," (Ro. 8:38-39) he meant nothing can separate us from God if we are in Christ and that includes we ourselves. Nothing means nothing; so you cannot be unaccepted. If you have repented of your sin and accepted Christ as your Lord and Savior, you cannot make God love you any more or any less by anything you do. You are fully accepted before God in Christ, period. Bask in that truth today and every day, and go live a life of thankfulness to Him for it.
Someone might say, "All of my incentive goes away when I know that my acceptance with God does not depend on my success or failure in obedience." But, if you say that, you do not really know or understand the love of Christ. Let me give you an example. (It is a marriage one so for those of you who are not married, use your imagination.) Husbands, would you cheat on your wife, if you knew that she would love and forgive you anyway? (Wives, think about it from your perspective.) I doubt it. Why not? Because her unconditional love engenders your love and thankfulness, and you would not do that to someone you love, even if you knew for certain they would still love you if you did cheat. You would not bring yourself to hurt them that much for your own selfish gain because their love has engendered your reciprocating love and thankfulness. You would want to show them by not cheating how thankful you are for a love that would forgive you even if you did cheat. Now, if you would cheat, then you do not really understand her love or understand love at all and probably have never understood it.
True believers have been changed by the love of Christ and will want to please Him and show Him their thankfulness. In fact, the only people who get any better are those that know if they do not get any better, God will still love them anyway. Does that mean we will not sin? No, of course not (1 Jn. 1:8). But, we do when we forget the truth of the gospel and go looking for what we already have in Christ in some idol that is smaller than Him. We have hearts that are prone to wander, which is why we need to come back to the gospel over and over again. The gospel is not just the flame that ignites the Christian life, it is the fuel that makes it burn every day. Jonathan Edwards used to say, "The key to the Christian life is letting the gospel filter down into every aspect of your life both rationally and experientially." You need the gospel as much today as you did when you were still dead in your sins. Never forget that, and never forget that you "cannot be accepted without Christ; but, when you have received His merit, you cannot be unaccepted."
By His Grace,
Taylor
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Jesus Loves Me! This I know
"Yes, I can. In the words of a song I learned at my mother’s knee: 'Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.'" ~ Karl Barth
I generally do not agree with Karl Barth's theology, but even so, I must admit that he was a formidable mind, incredibly influential, and did help beat back many of the attacks of liberal "Christian" scholarship. While he was on a lecture tour of the US in 1962, he spoke at Rockefeller Chapel on the University of Chicago campus. During the Q&A session a student asked him if he could sum up his theology in a single sentence, and the above quote was his answer. As much as I disagree with him in many areas of theology, that simple statement is something we Christians can and must always go back to.
Recently, I learned all the words to "Jesus Loves Me." I am astonished that I never knew there are four verses to this most famous of children's songs. And, they are really good! The song was written by Anna and Susan Warner in 1860 as part of their novel: Say and Seal. The words were spoken by the character Mr. Linden for the comfort Johnny Fax, a dying little boy. Very few people have even heard of the novel, but the song is one of the most famous (if not the most famous) children's hymns of all time. Here is the whole thing:
I love those words because they express the gospel in a simple children's song. They even give us the reason we strive for holiness. It is not to make God love us more because if we are in Christ, He loves us as much as He loves Jesus, to which we cannot add anything. Remember that: if you are in Christ--if you have truly repented and confessed Jesus as your Lord and Savior--you cannot make God love you any more or any less. Also, the reason is not to avert God's anger because if we are in Christ, Jesus has already done that for us too. It is to show God our thankfulness for all He has done for us in Jesus' work of redemption--"Thou hast bled and died for me; I will henceforth live for Thee."
The truth of the gospel is that simple and that deep. It is like a river where the strong can swim in deep, and the weak and broken can walk across easily. Dive deep into the depths of the gospel every day. Let it soak into every nook and cranny of your life, but on the days when you think everything is against you, remember "Jesus loves me! this I know" and let that be enough.
By His Grace,
Taylor
I generally do not agree with Karl Barth's theology, but even so, I must admit that he was a formidable mind, incredibly influential, and did help beat back many of the attacks of liberal "Christian" scholarship. While he was on a lecture tour of the US in 1962, he spoke at Rockefeller Chapel on the University of Chicago campus. During the Q&A session a student asked him if he could sum up his theology in a single sentence, and the above quote was his answer. As much as I disagree with him in many areas of theology, that simple statement is something we Christians can and must always go back to.
Recently, I learned all the words to "Jesus Loves Me." I am astonished that I never knew there are four verses to this most famous of children's songs. And, they are really good! The song was written by Anna and Susan Warner in 1860 as part of their novel: Say and Seal. The words were spoken by the character Mr. Linden for the comfort Johnny Fax, a dying little boy. Very few people have even heard of the novel, but the song is one of the most famous (if not the most famous) children's hymns of all time. Here is the whole thing:
Jesus love me! this I know,
for the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to Him belong;
they are weak but He is strong.
Chorus:
Yes, Jesus loves me. (3x)
The Bible tells me so.
Jesus loves me! loves me still,
though I'm very weak and ill.
That I might from sin be free,
bled and died upon the tree.
Chorus
Jesus loves me! He who died
heaven's gate to open wide.
He will wash away my sin.
Let His little child come in.
Chorus
Jesus loves me! He will stay
close beside me all the way.
Thou hast bled and died for me;
I will henceforth live for Thee.
Chorus
Chorus
The truth of the gospel is that simple and that deep. It is like a river where the strong can swim in deep, and the weak and broken can walk across easily. Dive deep into the depths of the gospel every day. Let it soak into every nook and cranny of your life, but on the days when you think everything is against you, remember "Jesus loves me! this I know" and let that be enough.
By His Grace,
Taylor
Friday, January 20, 2012
I Love the Church and the True Religion that Forms It
With all the word floating around the Internet about the video "Why I Hate Religion but Love Jesus," I thought I would repost an article I wrote a while ago expressing why I love the Church. Now, do not get me wrong, as I said in the post previous to this one, there is a lot to like about Mr. Bethke's video. I also do not want to beat this subject to death, but those of you who know me know that I am a master of that (it is one of my many sins). When we start to emphasize the things we dislike about contradiction in the Church (one of the main reasons people say, "I hate religion"), we miss out on what the Church is, the true religion that formed it, and the many things to love about it. Below is why I love the Church reposted (and slightly updated):
Every Sunday, right before we take communion at my church, we repeat the words of the Apostle’s Creed. I must confess, sometimes I drone through them without really considering what they mean. However, many times lately the words "I believe in… the holy catholic Church…" have stuck in my mind. Believing that the catholic Church (i.e. the invisible, universal Church) is holy is tough, especially when those in the Church hurt me, hurt those I love, or embarrass me; but they are Jesus’ bride and my people, the "holy catholic Church".
Ronald Rolheiser, in his book The Holy Longing, wrote that "to be connected to the church is to be associated with scoundrels, warmongers, fakes, child-molesters, murderers, adulterers, and hypocrites of every description. It also, at the same time, identifies you with saints and the finest persons of heroic soul within every time, country, race, and gender…because the church always looks exactly as it looked at the original crucifixion, God hung among thieves." Most days I am one of those thieves and no one in their right mind would want to confess me as one of their own. There are other days, only by the grace of God, where I show a glimpse of the "heroic soul" that Mr. Rolheiser wrote about and someone might dare to claim me. Jesus, however, claims me and loves me on all those days, which means I need to do the same for the rest of His Church, His bride.
Loving the Church is hard sometimes. All of us know what it is like to be embarrassed or ticked off by someone in our family but they are our family and we love them. Well, the Church is my spiritual family (whom I will spend eternity with) and there are a lot more of them than in a normal family. There are millions, which means many more opportunities to be embarrassed or ticked off. I heard about a Christian congressman in Florida who wanted to make some law that would force all the science books to be rewritten to say that the earth is the center of the solar system. He claimed that the heliocentric model was all a sham and he tried to prove it from a gross misuse of the Bible. That really burns me up, but Jesus claims him as part of His bride so I cannot disown him. Every time I look at Joel Osteen I want to smack that stupid smile off his face and staple his lips shut, but (this may sound radical but I think it is true) he belongs to Jesus so he belongs to me. John Wesley used to really get under my skin (even though he has been dead for more than 200 years) until I started to read his journals and found things like, "Everybody who belongs to Jesus belongs to everybody who belongs to Jesus." He is right.
Being connected to the millions of the Church also means many more opportunities to be pleased and encouraged by "heroic souls." I could mention the hundreds of Christian organizations that fight hunger, sex trafficking, and all other sorts of injustice but that would be too obvious. I would rather write about my professor's fourteen-year-old daughters who love to sit and talk with the elderly at their church because his daughters "like to hear them talk about Jesus." That makes me proud. I would rather talk about how my church loves on the marginalized in our city—the men on the street, the addicts, and transgendered, to name a few. That makes me proud. I would rather talk about my hero, Steve Brown, who runs two ministries that could easily take up all his time and yet he still takes the time to mentor young seminarians like me. He gets a lot of flak from many Christians (some in my denomination) because of his radical teaching on grace but he does not retaliate (no matter how much he may want to) and practices what he preaches by giving them grace. He makes me proud. I have several missionary friends preaching the gospel in countries where there is civil unrest or it is a capital crime. They make me proud. At our PCA General Assembly last year I met a Palestinian Reformed Christian and a Messianic Jew who were working together to spread the gospel in Palestine. In a group meeting one of them said this when asked how the gospel makes Jews and Arabs relate differently:
Entering into a covenant relationship with Jesus means being a part of His bride, the "holy catholic Church." He is a lot more accepting than I would be if I were Him, but that is why He is God and I am not. I may not always like her but the Church is His bride, so I must love her. She is an ugly bride, no doubt, but she is loved dearly by Him and will one day be fully conformed to His likeness. Until then, she is still my people and I can never forget that.
By His Grace,
Taylor
Every Sunday, right before we take communion at my church, we repeat the words of the Apostle’s Creed. I must confess, sometimes I drone through them without really considering what they mean. However, many times lately the words "I believe in… the holy catholic Church…" have stuck in my mind. Believing that the catholic Church (i.e. the invisible, universal Church) is holy is tough, especially when those in the Church hurt me, hurt those I love, or embarrass me; but they are Jesus’ bride and my people, the "holy catholic Church".
Ronald Rolheiser, in his book The Holy Longing, wrote that "to be connected to the church is to be associated with scoundrels, warmongers, fakes, child-molesters, murderers, adulterers, and hypocrites of every description. It also, at the same time, identifies you with saints and the finest persons of heroic soul within every time, country, race, and gender…because the church always looks exactly as it looked at the original crucifixion, God hung among thieves." Most days I am one of those thieves and no one in their right mind would want to confess me as one of their own. There are other days, only by the grace of God, where I show a glimpse of the "heroic soul" that Mr. Rolheiser wrote about and someone might dare to claim me. Jesus, however, claims me and loves me on all those days, which means I need to do the same for the rest of His Church, His bride.
Loving the Church is hard sometimes. All of us know what it is like to be embarrassed or ticked off by someone in our family but they are our family and we love them. Well, the Church is my spiritual family (whom I will spend eternity with) and there are a lot more of them than in a normal family. There are millions, which means many more opportunities to be embarrassed or ticked off. I heard about a Christian congressman in Florida who wanted to make some law that would force all the science books to be rewritten to say that the earth is the center of the solar system. He claimed that the heliocentric model was all a sham and he tried to prove it from a gross misuse of the Bible. That really burns me up, but Jesus claims him as part of His bride so I cannot disown him. Every time I look at Joel Osteen I want to smack that stupid smile off his face and staple his lips shut, but (this may sound radical but I think it is true) he belongs to Jesus so he belongs to me. John Wesley used to really get under my skin (even though he has been dead for more than 200 years) until I started to read his journals and found things like, "Everybody who belongs to Jesus belongs to everybody who belongs to Jesus." He is right.
Being connected to the millions of the Church also means many more opportunities to be pleased and encouraged by "heroic souls." I could mention the hundreds of Christian organizations that fight hunger, sex trafficking, and all other sorts of injustice but that would be too obvious. I would rather write about my professor's fourteen-year-old daughters who love to sit and talk with the elderly at their church because his daughters "like to hear them talk about Jesus." That makes me proud. I would rather talk about how my church loves on the marginalized in our city—the men on the street, the addicts, and transgendered, to name a few. That makes me proud. I would rather talk about my hero, Steve Brown, who runs two ministries that could easily take up all his time and yet he still takes the time to mentor young seminarians like me. He gets a lot of flak from many Christians (some in my denomination) because of his radical teaching on grace but he does not retaliate (no matter how much he may want to) and practices what he preaches by giving them grace. He makes me proud. I have several missionary friends preaching the gospel in countries where there is civil unrest or it is a capital crime. They make me proud. At our PCA General Assembly last year I met a Palestinian Reformed Christian and a Messianic Jew who were working together to spread the gospel in Palestine. In a group meeting one of them said this when asked how the gospel makes Jews and Arabs relate differently:
I believe that in Christ we have a common ground so Jews and Arabs, yes, but the common ground is the gospel and is our Lord, our Savior Jesus Christ. Me as a Palestinian I have to choose day after day, if not moment by moment that I want to reconcile with my brothers, my Jewish brothers, because the challenge is an instant challenge, endless challenge. It is in my home. It is affecting me day after day. Therefore, I say that we have to be committed to each other. So it’s not just an emotional reaction. It’s not just that I love and pray for my brother, but I am committed through Christ who brings us into a new creation to be together, to be supportive to each other, to love each other, and to embrace each other…. So as a sum up for all this, I believe from all my heart, that we, Palestinian Christians, together with Messianic believers have a message that politicians have never delivered. It’s Christ, the Prince of Peace that makes us peace-makers and through that we can love and live a life that is worthy, a Kingdom life.That makes me really proud and I feel honored to have known these men, men of whom the world is not worthy.
Entering into a covenant relationship with Jesus means being a part of His bride, the "holy catholic Church." He is a lot more accepting than I would be if I were Him, but that is why He is God and I am not. I may not always like her but the Church is His bride, so I must love her. She is an ugly bride, no doubt, but she is loved dearly by Him and will one day be fully conformed to His likeness. Until then, she is still my people and I can never forget that.
By His Grace,
Taylor
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Love, Hate, Jesus, and Religion
There is a video that has gone viral all over the Internet called, "Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus." It is worth watching because there is a lot good about it. The guy who made the video, Jeff Bethke, brings up some good points (all of which are not new) and does so in a very artful, compelling way. It is also obvious that Mr. Bethke loves Jesus and stands on grace alone. That is great. Grace is all I can stand on too. When people say, "You don't want cheap grace." I say, "Yes I do; it is all I can afford." So, I really like the majority of what he has to say. One of my favorite lines is, "The Church is not a museum for good people, it is a hospital for the broken." That is true and I am glad it is because if it was not, I would not belong in the Church. So, again, it is worth watching. Click on the link above and go watch it. Go ahead, I will wait........
Now that you have watched the video, there are some things that still need to be said. Some people have said some unfair things about the video and others have taken it hook, line, and sinker without thinking about the video critically. A couple of guys, however, have said some very balanced, respectful things that need to be said about this video that I would also recommend you reading/listening to. (If you want to skip my statements and go to theirs, and I would not blame you if you did, then just scroll down a little.) The main problem with the video is that it starts out saying, "What if I told you Jesus came to abolish religion?" Well, if you told me that I would say, "You are wrong" because Jesus did not come to abolish religion. He came to fulfill and establish true religion. You can maybe make that statement if you redefine the word "religion" but then you confuse the issue. It is catchy today to say, "I am not religious; I love Jesus." But, I am sorry, that means you are religious. There is more that can be said on this and both the guys I mention below say it better than I can, so I will let them say it. Here are a couple of links you should read to get you thinking about what might not be so good about this video and saying "I hate religion":
- Greg Koukl of Stand to Reason talked about it on his radio program a few days ago and you can listen to that here. I highly recommend you listen to it.
- If you want to go a little further and deeper, Kevin DeYoung of The Gospel Coalition has more to say, but again, I think it is respectful and charitable to Mr. Bethke.
Taylor
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
The Pastor's Wife
"The truth is, the Bible has no office or job description called 'pastor’s wife.' This is because the pastor’s wife is simply to be a Christian church member like everyone else. Her first priorities are to be a godly woman, godly wife, and then godly mother, after which all other duties fall." ~ Mark Driscoll
They say that the second toughest job in the Church is being the pastor of a church. Do you know what the hardest job is? Being the pastor's wife. This is something I have thought about a lot because I may one day be a pastor and my wife will have to deal with that. She is a gracious, compassionate, loving, patient woman who I know is definitely up to the task as long as the church we may serve in one day does not try to place expectations on her that are unrealistic or, worse yet, sinful.
Mark Driscoll wrote a post on The Resurgence about loving the pastor's wife that is really good. (Thank you to my friend, and soon-to-be pastor, Adam Powers for sharing it with me.) The quote above comes from it and the rest you can read here. Read it and then think about how you treat the pastor's wife at your church and make sure you are not placing expectations on her that she does not need.
By His Grace,
Taylor
They say that the second toughest job in the Church is being the pastor of a church. Do you know what the hardest job is? Being the pastor's wife. This is something I have thought about a lot because I may one day be a pastor and my wife will have to deal with that. She is a gracious, compassionate, loving, patient woman who I know is definitely up to the task as long as the church we may serve in one day does not try to place expectations on her that are unrealistic or, worse yet, sinful.
Mark Driscoll wrote a post on The Resurgence about loving the pastor's wife that is really good. (Thank you to my friend, and soon-to-be pastor, Adam Powers for sharing it with me.) The quote above comes from it and the rest you can read here. Read it and then think about how you treat the pastor's wife at your church and make sure you are not placing expectations on her that she does not need.
By His Grace,
Taylor
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