My Blog Is Holier Than I Am

arrivalI don’t think I’m an intensely autobiographical writer on this blog. I write with a personal element, of course, but I don’t engage in a lot of existential, self-reflection on here, where I arrive at some personal insight leading to enlightenment that I can share with others. I’ve realized that because of this, I might come off in digital print as a better person than I actually am.

I started thinking about this because I’ve been listening to Paul David Tripp’s book Dangerous Calling, on pastoral ministry, lately and it’s been good. Well, more like “hurts so good” kind of good. At one point, Tripp goes into the problem of pastors feeling like they’ve spiritually-arrived because of various factors like theological knowledge, ministry experience, technical efficiency, or the praise of others. It’s very easy for a pastor who is experiencing some ministry success or getting the praise and thanks of parishioners who only see their public ministry persona, to start believing their own press. People don’t always see the petty thoughts, the fires of pride just stoked by their well-meaning comments (which you shouldn’t necessarily stop, because plenty of pastors do need it), the dozens of shady words uttered away from hearing ears. In any case, it’s pretty easy for a pastor to be blind to their spiritual condition.

Of course, when I started to think about it, this easily applies to bloggers too. It takes little effort to convince yourself that because you can write well, communicate gospel truths effectively, and happen to have gotten a few breaks as a writer, that you’ve arrived. As the positive comments, shares, or tweets start up, you can quickly start thinking “Yeah, that really was a good post. Man, I really did help people. I do deserve this attention. How nice is it that people are noticing the great work I’m doing?” You might not even think this consciously, but that sense of pride and accomplishment creeps in and starts to rob your sense of gratitude toward the God of grace who called you and gave you whatever gifts and accomplishments you have.

I know that I’ve had to catch myself recently in this. I’ve caught a couple of breaks here and there (big for me, but still, it’s not like I’m a big deal), little bits of God’s grace towards me, and it’s amazing how quickly that can start turning into the sense of having arrived. Write a few posts paraphrasing Calvin and other smart people, get some nice feedback, and you start to feel like you earned it–like those insights are signs of deep wisdom and spiritual maturity. I can fool myself into thinking that because I know what to say about growing in sanctification, or engaging graceful polemics, I’m actually good at those things.

The funny thing is that this kind of pride is so wily, it can even apply to those bloggers who make a regular habit of ‘vulnerability’ and honesty about their weaknesses and foibles. Kinda reminds my of this mewithoutyou song, “WOLF AM I! (AND SHADOW)” where Aaron Weiss sings:

Oh, there I go showing off again.
Self-impressed by how well I can put myself down…
and there I go again, to the next further removed
level of that same exact feigned humility, and this
for me goes on and on to the point of nausea.

Even ‘humble’ self-confession can become a substitute for actual brokenness and repentance over sin.  Being ‘confessional’ in a setting like this can easily become an opportunity of self-aggrandizement and a way of reinforcing your false sense of spiritual maturity. I won’t even try to say that there isn’t a level at which that’s at work in this post itself. I wouldn’t put that past me.

That said, I figured it was worth the risk of sharing this little reflection in digital-print as a caution to a few people:

  1. Readers – If you’ve got particular writers you look up to for their spiritual depth, insight, and knowledge, don’t forget they’re just as sinful and in need of grace as anybody else. Even if they’re particularly gifted in talking about holiness and grace.
  2. Other Bloggers – Don’t be suckered into believing your own press. You might have tons of great readers, have writing successes, gotten pretty good at your craft, and actually are blessing people through your work. Don’t for a minute forget that you’re only used because God is gracious, not because you are entitled to it, or have somehow ‘nailed’ it. Constantly bring your work before Jesus and ask him to keep you honest and humble, even in the face of your writing successes.
  3. Me – I mean, I’m the one writing this, but it’s just too easy and too important to forget. As spiritual as my blog might read at times, it’s probably holier than I am.

Well, that’s it for now.

Soli Deo Gloria

Comfort for Slaves in the NT

Bondservants, obey in everything those who are your earthly masters, not by way of eye-service, as people-pleasers, but with sincerity of heart, fearing the Lord. Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ. For the wrongdoer will be paid back for the wrong he has done, and there is no partiality. Masters, treat your bondservants justly and fairly, knowing that you also have a Master in heaven. –Colossians 3:22-4:1

servantOur experiences with the Civil War, the slave trade, and the Civil Rights movement made us particularly sensitive to the way certain texts have been used by those in power to oppress others. Certain verses in the NT in especially, like Paul’s household codes have been pointed to as encouraging slavery and subjugation. In some cases, they have been seen as evidence of the diversity of theologies in the NT on this issue. J.D. Crossan, for instance, sees them as evidence of a drift in the early church from a more liberated Paul (the undisputed letters), to a conservatising Pauline theologian (Ephesians, Colossians), and finally to a traditionalist disciple (the pastorals.)

Now, while I think these issues have been dealt with and adequately explained by modern NT scholars, it’s encouraging to note that long before the disturbing history of the colonial slave trade, Christians had been wrestling with what to do with these texts. For instance, commenting on this text in Colossians, Calvin doesn’t find a program for oppression, but rather a deep comfort for those who find themselves ‘under subjection’:

By the former statement he means, that service is done to men in such a way that Christ at the same time holds supremacy of dominion, and is the supreme master. Here, truly, is choice consolation for all that are under subjection, inasmuch as they are informed that, while they willingly serve their masters, their services are acceptable to Christ, as though they had been rendered to him. From this, also, Paul gathers, that they will receive from him a reward, but it is the reward of inheritance, by which he means that the very thing that is bestowed in reward of works is freely given to us by God, for inheritance comes from adoption.

-Comment on Colossians 3:22-25

Calvin sees at least three sources of comfort here: First, when the slave/bondservant renders his service willingly, he transform it from an instance of subjugation, to another opportunity to freely do honor to his Lord. Instead of work stolen from him by a powerful master, the servant of Christ transvalues it in faith and renders the work an act of spiritual freedom despite whatever political situation of oppression he finds himself in. This is a spiritually subversive counsel.

Second, this is a real source of blessing because the God who has adopted us, sees our faithfulness in this difficult situation and will surely reward us for it. Trial though it may be, God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who made himself a slave for us, will see that the good works of his oppressed are crowned with glory.

Third, the justice of God is testified to here. In the world there may be no justice, but God does not judge things by outward appearance, but rather will repay masters according to the way they treat their workers. No, God has not forgotten his children in trying situations, but jealously will act in justice on their behalf. All wrongs will be righted and so the Christian can wait on the Lord, trusting him to take care of those situations which are beyond our control.

No, far from being a mere conservatising reinforcement of the status quo, we have here a pastorally appropriate word of comfort to real people dealing with a situation they likely had little control over. There is deep assurance here that the God they have found in Jesus Christ cares for the lowliest slave and that his work of judgment and salvation is not only on behalf of the masters of the world, but those whom the world has despised. For that reason, though their work is bitter, they can render it to the Lord with full assurance that it will not be in vain. While over the long haul the Gospel would prove to be corrosive of unjust systems of slavery and oppression, we see the promise of a God who sustains even in the midst of them.

Soli Deo Gloria

Is Your Ministry Driven By Fear?

dangerousI pastor out of fear way too much. Odds are, if you’re a pastor and you’re reading this, you do too. I didn’t really grasp how much this affects my heart and ministry until a few days ago when I was listening through Paul David Tripp’s Dangerous Calling again. I’d realized in the past that, sure, I’ve got anxieties, and occasionally I’ll have a day when the weight of tasks left undone or forgotten starts to mount, but I never understood just how much fear has been in the driver’s seat. Though I’d heard about fears in ministry, in passing before, I don’t think anybody’d named it quite as clearly since I’d found myself plunged hip-deep in it over the past couple of years:

Perhaps this is a not-too-often-shared secret of pastoral ministry; that is, how much of it is driven not by faith in the truths of the gospel and in the person and work of the Lord Jesus Christ but by fear. It is very tempting for the pastor to load the welfare of the church on his shoulders, and when he does, he ends up being burdened and motivated by an endless and ever-changing catalog of “what ifs.” This never leads to a restful and joyful life of ministry but rather to a ministry debilitated by unrealistic and unmet goals, a personal sense of failure, and the dread that results.

Dangerous Calling: Confronting the Unique Challenges of Pastoral Ministry (pp. 125-126). Crossway. Kindle Edition.

This is dangerous on many levels, not only for the spiritual health of the pastor, but for the Gospel and the congregation in his hands.

Tripp points out an angle on a story I’d heard over and over again, but never really thought of as a piece of pastoral theology. Looking at Galatians 2, with Paul’s confrontation of Peter over ceasing to eat with the Gentiles because of the circumcision party that had arrived, Tripp points out that Peter’s failure is due to fear motivating his ministry, not faith. Peter’s theology wasn’t jacked. Paul knew that he knew that justification is by faith alone, not by Judaizing works. Still, out of fear of approval, or power, he was practically selling out the Gospel in his ministry.

Pastors, we can’t, absolutely can’t let this happen to us, or allow it to go on any longer than it already has. It’s absolutely normal to have some fear. Fear can actually be healthy at times in tipping us off to dangers we need to engage. That said, fear of anything but God should never control us.  In what follows, I want to briefly list and summarize the four main fears that can cripple your ministry according to Tripp, and then list his four tips for overcoming, or not letting them topple your ministry.

4 Derailing Ministry Fears – Every pastor has or will face one or all of these fears at some point in their ministry. They’re all pretty obvious, but it still helps to name them and know they’re coming.

  1. Fear of Me – Ministry exposes your junk pretty quickly. In the midst of finding out the wretchedness of pride, anger, inadequacy, weakness, and surprising wickedness of your own heart, it’s very easy to get discouraged. Looking at yourself long and hard in ministry can lead to a crippling fear of self that will side-track your ministry through discouragement. Of course, this makes the mistake that Gideon made in thinking the battle depended on the strength of his own arm, instead of that of his mighty God.
  2. Fear of Others -This classic fear is the “fear of man.” The problem with pastoring people is that it involves people; all sorts of people. Fans. Critics. Lovers. Haters. Quiet supporters. Vocal opponents. Barnabas. Demas. It’s surprisingly easy to find yourself pastoring defensively, out of a desire to silence or win over your critics, instead of a desire to please and praise God. Check your heart to see whether your closed door policy or the argument of that particular sermon was shaped by God’s wisdom or a very human fear of others.
  3. Fear of Circumstances – We are not the authors of our stories in the ultimate senses. God decrees the times and places we’re born–and a whole of difficulty afterwards. It’s very easy for the circumstances of life to unsettles us and destroy our confidence in God’s promises. Yes, God’s church won’t fail, but when the budget’s a little tight and that denominational fight’s coming up, it’s easy to let fear of present reality control our thoughts. Tripp reminds us that “Faith doesn’t deny reality. No, it is a God-focused way of considering reality.”
  4. Fear of the Future -We live in the reality of not knowing what the future holds. We are not God, we have not authored history and so what is to comes is still a vast, dark abyss to many of us and it haunts us. We live in fear of the future, struggling to believe God’s promises to be good despite the uncertainty. This can lead to sinful attempts to control, manage, and damage-control styles of ministry that do not result in fruitful congregational care. Instead, we are to entrust ourselves to the God whose will for the ages is Christ crucified and resurrected, a sure hope for the future.

4 Ways to Get Back On Track So how do we get back on track? Well, Tripp has four key steps, not silver-bullet, quick-fixes, but regular disciplines that will cut to the heart of your ministry fears, drawing you back to a ministry rooted in faith in Christ.

  1. Own Your Fears – Lying to yourself doesn’t help. Fears have greater power when they go unnamed. Instead, be honest, humbly take your fear to the One who is bigger than your fears. Let grace into the equation.
  2. Confess them and Repent – Doubling down on your sin doesn’t help, but only blinds you to the places it has its grip on your life. Confess the ways that fear has dominated your ministry, apologize those whom it has harmed and ask God to reveal the places where idolatry has led you to fear and sin.
  3. Watch your Meditation – You’re constantly preaching to yourself.  Only God knows your thoughts better than you, keep a watchful eye on the words your heart is uttering to yourself. Watch to see where fear is creeping in, where the weight of human opinion and circumstance is crowding out the weight of God’s glory.
  4. Preach the Gospel to Yourself – This is the only way to stay rooted and firm. We need to tirelessly remind ourselves the truth of the Gospel of our salvation. This Gospel is about a big God who saves us from problems beyond our reckoning–demon and death-sized problems. He can surely overwhelm what overwhelms us. This Gospel is about an acceptance that was purchased in the face of powers of hell and the weight of infinite guilt. What could ever separate us from our Lord?

It is as we remember these truths and are filled with awe of the God that we serve, that our human fears will take on their proper proportion, and we can begin to serve in faith, not fear.

Soli Deo Gloria

Vanhoozer’s 10 Theses On “Remythologizing” in Plain(er) English

remthologizingOne of the things I enjoy most about college ministry is that I’m often forced to think through whether I actually understand all the nerdy, academic theology I read. Exhibit A: Kevin Vanhoozer’s Remythologizing Theology: Divine Action, Passion, and Authorship is easily one of the top five most nerdy, theological texts I own. I’ve read it twice and constantly find myself coming back to it, even though it’s not something I’d teach a college Bible study through.

Case in point: just last week I happened to mention the text around one my college students and she immediately wanted to know what “remythologizing” was.

I mean, when someone asks you about Vanhoozer, what are you supposed to do? Ignore it?

That launched us into an hour-long discussion explaining the difference between systematic theology and biblical theology, Bultmann and demythologizing, the confluence of God, scripture, and hermeneutics that Vanhoozer calls “first theology” and so much more. (She asked very good questions.) In the middle of this crash course, I ended up talking through Vanhoozer’s “10 Theses on Remythologizing.”

Inspired by Lewis’ dictum that, if you can’t put it in common English, you probably don’t know it, I attempted to translate the theses into normal-person speak for my intelligent, but non-expert student.

Given that not many people have read this very important text yet–and it is very important text, one of the most important in the last 20 years, probably–I figured I’d attempt a command performance of the on the spot translation summary act I did for my student the other night, only in print, and maybe not as sloppy. Maybe. I’ll essentially be trying to translate Vanhoozer’s own elaborations on the theses, in plain(er), Rishmawy-language.

Ten Theses On Remythologizing
Briefly, in many ways Vanhoozer’s project is kind of a counter-point to Bultmann’s program of ‘demythologization’ that de-storifed (mythos is story) the Gospels into timeless existential truths. In contrast, Vanhoozer’s aim is to take seriously the shape and form of the story of Scripture as God’s own communication to us of Who he is, while also avoiding Feuerbach’s notion that all god-talk is simply human projections of our best attributes onto the screen of eternity. So Vanhoozer puts forward his own program of “remythologizing” that he initially summarizes in these ten theses.

One key term to know is “theodrama”, which simply smashes “theos” and “drama” together in order to speak of the divine actions in redemptive history (God doing stuff in the story of the Bible). When Vanhoozer says, “theodramatic”, it basically means “having to do with God doing and saying stuff in the Bible.”

The italicized quotations are his, and again, the rest is my attempt at translation:

1. “Remythologizing is not a “fall back into myth” but a spring forward into metaphysics.” (27) This is not about mythologizing the text, taking us back to all-too-human gods of myth, but taking seriously the mythos, the plotof the biblical storyline to see what it reveals to us about the nature of God and the world. What must the God who acts in this story be like in order to do and say the kinds of things we see in the biblical narrative. To do that, we have to pay attention to the narrative very closely.

2. “Remythologizing means recovering the “who” of biblical discourse.” (28) At its heart, remythologizing is a project focused on the main character of the drama, God, who presents himself to us in the Scriptures through Word and Spirit. What attributes and characteristics does this God show himself to have in light of what he says about himself?

3. “Remythologizing means attending to the triune “who” of communicative action.” (28) Remythologizing is necessarily trinitarian theology because the one doing the saying in the narrative is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit (or, Father, Word, & Breath). That will shape the way we understand God’s self-communication.

4. “Remythologizing conceives the God–world relation in primarily communicative rather than causal terms.” (28) Instead of more classical categories like ‘causality’, which has some more physicalist connotations, Vanhoozer wants to rethink God’s relation to the world on the analogy of communication. The God of Scripture is a speaking God who brings us the world into being through speech and saves it through his Word. That should shape the way we conceive things.

5. “Remythologizing means rethinking metaphysics, epistemology, and ethics alike in theodramatic terms.” (29)  Instead of trying to shove the story of the Gospel into some pre-made grid like modern science, history, or secular metaphysics, Vanhoozer wants us to do things the other way around. Instead, the story of the Gospel is the criterion by which we judge all else. In fact, it generates its own metaphysical categories around God’s communication made flesh, Jesus Christ.

6. “Remythologizing means faith seeking, and demonstrating, theodramatic understanding through fitting participation in the triune communicative action.” (29) Theology is not a neutral affair. To understand God’s actions in Christ truly, there is an active element. I must be trying to situate myself within the story appropriately for this work to be properly undertaken. (This was a tough one.)

7. “Remythologizing means taking Christ, together with the Spirit-breathed canon that the living Word commissions, as the chief means of God’s self-presentation and communication.” (29) “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son” ( Heb. 1:1–2). Remythologizing pays attention both to the grand story of Scripture and the Incarnation at the center, as well as the various genres, modes, and methods God has used within it to communicate himself to us. In fact, the Scriptures not only report God’s communication, but are, in fact, part of the action.

8. “Remythologizing is a form of biblical reasoning, a matter of thinking about the subject matter along the various forms of biblical discourse that present it.” (29) It’s not a matter of thinking or reading the Bible, but thoughtfully paying attention to the way the Bible teaches us to think. For instance, paying attention to the particular way a metaphor is used to communicate truth as opposed to a straightforward syllogism.

9. “Remythologizing means attending to biblical polyphony and recognizing the dialogical nature of theodramatic testimony and theological truth.” (30) God isn’t a boring communicator and the subject matter is too grand to be captured in simple fashion. Vanhoozer’s project is about paying attention to all the different ways and means, as well as angles (history, eschatology, ontology) and perspectives (divine, human, powers) from which the truth is communicated in order to “do justice” to the diverse voices in Scripture. Remythologizing shouldn’t result in flat theology.

10. “In sum, remythologizing is best defined in contrast to demythologizing as a type of first theology.” (30) First theology is how your doctrine of God, Scripture, and hermeneutics all play into one another. Remythologizing is Vanhoozer’s proposal for how that all should go together in light of the triune God’s communicating activity in the theodrama of Scripture.

Of course, Vanhoozer does much more than just put forward a methodology in this work. He shows you what he means by all of this in the process of doing some real theology involving close reading of texts, addressing issues in the doctrine of God in like the Creator/creature relationship as well as God’s impassibility, developing a doctrine of the Trinity along the lines of communicative categories, and bridging the gap between Thomism and Barthianism.  Among other things.

The long and the short of it, though, is that remythologizing is a renewed program of thinking about God on the basis of what God has said and done in Jesus Christ and the Scriptures in the power of the Spirit. In many ways, it’s simply a retooling, a new articulation of a very old approach. Of course, as Pascal says, “Let no one say I have said nothing new; the arrangement of the material is new. In playing tennis both players play the same ball, but one plays it better.”

Vanhoozer plays the ball quite well in our postmodern context and theologians of all stripes would do well to learn from this master theological re-arranger.

Soli Deo Gloria

There’s More To The Church Than Meets The Eye

church southRecently, I found myself greatly encouraged as I read about some classic distinctions made in the doctrine of the church. While many of us are familiar with biblical images of the church (‘the body of Christ’, ‘the people of God’, ‘the Temple’, etc.) as well as the four marks of the church (unity, holiness, catholicity, apostolicity), Edmund Clowney briefly reminds us of three key contrasts to keep in mind:

The heavenly definition of the church explains the contrasts of its existence in time (militant/triumphant) and space (local/universal), as well as the perspectives of heaven and earth (visible/invisible.)

The Church, Edmund P. Clowney, pg. 73

Rarely do we see theological refinement as a potentially encouraging exercise. Instead we view theological distinctions in terms of pointless, or necessary but dreary, exercises in logic-chopping to be endured, but never dwelt on with an aim towards spiritual blessing. Of course, that’s completely wrong-headed. If I never considered the classic distinction between justification and sanctification, and was constantly judging my assurance in Christ on the basis of latter, I’d be a miserable wreck.

What’s more, we North American Evangelicals hardly ever look to the doctrine of the Church as a source of consolation or joy. Thinking of the cross, the resurrection, the mystery of the Trinity, eschatology–these things can be a blessing for meditation. The Church? Eh…we having trouble seeing it. Even more difficult for many of us then, is the idea of finding encouragement in historic distinctions made in the doctrine of the church. Logic-chopping about an already uninspiring subject is a doubly-uninspiring prospect.

Properly considered though, these three distinctions in our theology of the church ought to be extremely encouraging to believers, as they teach us about our walk with Christ, the God who saves us, and our hope in God’s promises.

Militant/Triumphant – The distinction between the church triumphant and the church militant reminds us, both of the hope of glory, and the life of struggle to be endured this side of Jesus’ return. On earth, between the times, the Church is still embattled, hard-pressed on all sides, engaged in a battle, not against flesh and blood, but against the principalities and powers of the world.

We should not be dismayed, therefore, when we face opposition here on earth, but ought to be prepared for this sort of thing. And yet, the hope of glory awaits us, In Christ who has already conquered, as the church triumphant is at rest with Christ, enjoying a foretaste awaiting the consummation yet to come.

Local/Universal – The distinction between the local and the universal, encourages to remember that our God is a global one, whose purposes expand beyond the little corner of sky that we can see. In the age to come, we will see people from every tribe, tongue, and nation, seated at the wedding supper of the Lamb, feasting with God, and praising the Son. For those of us discouraged by the state of the church in our country, state, or neighborhood, remember that God is always up to something and that our horizons are much smaller than those of our Lord.

This can also help keep us from the pride that believes our church’s particular, culturally-specific ways of preaching the Gospel and administering the sacraments are the be-all and end-all of God’s works through his people. Realize that the hour and five minute worship service of the community, Bible mega-church you grew up at doesn’t have the corner on Gospel-ministry; there are probably some house-churches in China that could probably teach our pastors a little something about Gospel-community, the ministry of prayer, and preaching with unction. Again, the universal church is far broader that the local congregation we’ve been blessed with.

Visible/Invisible – The distinction between the visible church with its institutions, sacraments, offices, and ordinary congregations and the invisible church comprised of the elect, known only to God is also, when properly-construed, can give us hope in difficult times. This distinction is a helpful eschatological buffer (already/not-yet) that keeps us from too quickly identifying the all-too-human actions of the present-before-us group of sinful, broken, institutional realities we participate as a failure of God’s promises.

While the visible church truly is the body of Christ, it is still a mixed company to some degree, both in terms of individual, as well as corporate holiness. The point is, yes, your local church and the global church, are in many ways, visible failures, and yet, the visible is not all there is to the church. Heaven sees and knows more than our limited vision can capture. God’s faithfulness goes deeper still than all of our faithlessness.

Take comfort and encouragement, then, in remembering that the church we see is not all that there is to the Church.

Soli Deo Gloria

Holy Hilarity (Or, Don’t Forget Jesus in Your Jokes)

jokeCalvin’s not usually known for his sense of humor, nor should he be. I mean, he’s funny in print sometimes, but the general consensus is that he was a pretty serious fellow. Actually, Luther was the riot among the Magisterial Reformers. I mean, the man named a treatise “TO THE SUPERCHRISTIAN, SUPERSPIRITUAL, AND SUPERLEARNED BOOK OF GOAT EMSER OF LEIPZIG WITH A GLANCE AT HIS COMRADE MURNER: GOAT, BUTT ME NOT.” To my knowledge, aside from an early treatise satirizing the use of spiritual trinkets and other ‘holy’ objects, Calvin didn’t produce anything so…pugnaciously humorous. He did use the word “stupid” on numerous occasions to great effect, though.

In any case, he makes an important exhortation on the subject of humor in his comments in Colossians. When explaining what it means to “sing Psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs” to one another (3:16), Calvin would have us expand Paul’s encouragement to all aspects of our speech:

Psalms, hymns. He does not restrict the word of Christ to these particular departments,but rather intimates that all our communications should be adapted to edification, that even those which tend to hilarity may have no empty savor. “Leave to unbelievers that foolish delight which they take from ludicrous and frivolous jests and witticisms; and let your communications, not merely those that are grave, but those also that are joyful and exhilarating, contain something profitable. In place of their obscene, or at least barely modest and decent, songs, it becomes you to make use of hymns and songs that sound forth God’s praise.”

Commentary on Colossians 3:16

Now, we might find Calvin a bit dour here. Surely there’s a time and a place for nearly pointless jokes. I enjoy a funny cat-falling-off-of-a-fan video as the next guy. I also love the back and forth of a good-natured battle of witty replies and roasts. Still, I find myself challenged a bit here when it comes to the way I use my humor. We live in snarky, sarcastic, and downright mean culture. And, let’s be honest, it’s hilarious sometimes. Okay, I’ll be really honest and say that a good chunk of my own humor is mockery-related. I mean, I work with college students–things get ridiculous at times.

Still, for those of us called by the God who speaks life and redemption through his words, all of our words should somehow bear testimony to that grace. I’m not saying we should all start making Bible jokes, (which are incredibly hard to do well unless you: a. know a good bit of the Bible; b, have an audience who does as well; and c. have a good sense of timing). And yet, I am saying that we still have something to hear in Calvin’s comments here.

Too often our speech-patterns, including our humor, is too conformed to the patterns of the world. Calvin spoke more directly to obscene and frivolous speech, but it might equally apply to uncharitable utterances. I had a mentor who would constantly call out his boys in Sunday School for putting each other down and then trying to cover it with “Just Kidding.” He’d look at us and say, “Here’s the thing, most of the time it still hurts anyways and you don’t want to tear down your brother, so just find something else to say.” Or something like that. I was in the 5th grade. In any case, while I think some playful ribbing is fine among brothers and sisters, he had a point. How often are our words aimed at building up our brothers and sisters? Can we think of the last time we used our humor positively? To build someone up instead of chipping away at them?

Calvin seems to think there’s a way for all of our speech to be ‘profitable’, even our hilarity.

To some this might seem like a recipe for a stiff, humorless life. Of course, the challenge is to get more creative with your humor. If you can’t think of a joke that doesn’t somehow trade on negativity, attack, or a put-down, you might not just be lacking in charity, but in imagination.

Take it as a challenge then: it’s not that you’re going to entirely eliminate the occasional joke at another’s expense, but rather, try to see your humor as one more area where you can obediently submit yourself to Christ/  Strive to creatively build up the body in all that you do–even in your jests.

Soli Deo Gloria

Dangerous Seminary

dangerousIn a recent series over at the Gospel Coalition, a buddy of mine wrote about how he wouldn’t trade his seminary experience for anything. It was a deeply formative experience of learning, joy, life, pain, and spiritual growth. I found myself nodding my head in agreement. I loved my years in seminary, not because they were perfect, but because in God’s purposes they were key for forming my character and ministry instincts.

That said, seminary can be a dangerous place if you don’t know what you’re getting into.

Addressing himself to pastors, seminarians, and professors within the seminary culture at large, Paul David Tripp writes of the attendant dangers when it comes to the way pastoral training is undertaken nowadays. He tells the story of a friend whose passion for gardening his roses led him to become an expert in all things concerning roses. He was technically proficient and knew all kinds of arcana when it came to the care and growth of roses. One day though, as he was working on his garden, he realized that it had been years since he’d actually taken the time to enjoy his roses without working on them. Tripp then asks:

Could it be that this is very close to what a seminary education might do to its students? Is it not possible for seminary students to become experts in a gospel that they are not being exposed and changed by? Is it not dangerous to teach students to be comfortable with the radical content of Scripture while holding it separate from their hearts and lives? Is it not dangerous for students to become comfortable with the message of the Bible while not being broken, grieved, and convicted by it? Is it not important for seminary students to be faced daily with the personal implications of the message that they’re learning to unpack and deliver to others? Is it not vital to hold before students who are investigating the theology of Christ the frequent and consistent call to life-shaping love for Christ? Could it be that many students in seminary are too academically busy to sit before the Rose of Sharon in awe, love, and worship? Could it be that in academizing the faith, we have unwittingly made the means to an end the end? Shouldn’t every Christian institution of higher learning be a warm, nurturing, Christ-centered, gospel-driven community of faith? Could it be that rather than having as our mission students who have mastered the Book, our goal should be graduating students who have been mastered by the God of the Book?

Dangerous Calling: Confronting the Unique Challenges of Pastoral Ministry (Kindle Locations 631-640). Crossway. Kindle Edition.

I can attest that in my own years in seminary, one of the greatest challenges was to see the text as something more than a puzzle to be solved, but rather a Word to obeyed. I’d be lying if I didn’t still struggle with having a devotional life that doesn’t immediately slide into some kind of study session. Resist this at all costs.

I don’t for a minute want to discourage an future pastors or current seminarians from digging in to their time at school. What I would urge you is the heed the warning in these questions. Fight to keep a real devotional life. Do not ever see the text simply as a task to be conquered, but strive to be conquered by the text. Open your study sessions with prayer and stop in the middle to pray regularly. Do not leave seminary with a shriveled devotional life.

Pastors, do the same as you prepare for your sermons. If this didn’t happen to you in seminary, it might happen as you enter the professional life. One simple but key question to always ask yourself after all the exegetical research is done is: “How am I putting this into practice?” Not, “how can my people put this into practice?”, but “how can be engaged with it?” Your studies of the text are not done if you have not gotten to the personal level, and eventually your preaching and pastoring, if not simply your personal holiness, will show the signs of this neglect.

If you’re a seminary prof reading this (which I’d be surprised at because there are much smarter things for you to be reading than this blog), please pastor your students. I loved that a number of my brilliant professors at seminary had also cut their teeth in the pastorate, and that even the ones who hadn’t, still encouraged us to deeper levels of discipleship, not just technical proficiency. Even if they resist you, don’t listen to them. They are the students, you are the professors: assert yourselves here. They need this and so do the congregations they will eventually pastor.

Finally, I’d encourage anybody in formal ministry, connected to it, elders, pastors, or involved parishioners to read this book. If you’re in seminary, it might help you cut off some signs of spiritual disease early. If you’re a pastor, it might save your ministry. If you’re on a search committee, it might help you know how to look for a pastor, not merely a professional. If you’re an elder, it’ll help your congregation care for the pastor you already have.

Soli Deo Gloria

One Year of Writing: A Few Reflections

yearAbout a year ago, I returned home from summer retreat with my students to find out that my wife had started a blog. “Hmm” thought I. Coming after a few months of mulling over whether to start one myself, I took it as the sign I was looking for. And so my little Reformedish blog started. Roughly 220 posts later, I’ve realized I don’t quite think I knew what I was getting myself into. I could not have predicted the joy, the stress, surprises, and blessings that have come with setting my hand back to the plough. When my little WordPress anniversary notification popped up, I figured it’s as good a time as any to review and reflect on some things I’m grateful for and lessons I’ve begun to learn through the writing experience.

Writing Can Be Addictive – Early on I had difficulty thinking of things to write. I would sit, ponder, mull over the various ideas I’d had bouncing around in my head during all of the silent years leading up to the blog, but it was still a struggle to crank out a post. Over time, though, the more I wrote, the more I realized I wanted to write about everything. Nowadays I find myself writing maybe a third of the ideas that come into my head, or commenting on a fraction of the passages I find worth interacting with. I’ll tell myself I’ll take it easy one week, only to find myself writing a couple of extra surprise articles I didn’t think I had in me. I don’t know that this is always a positive thing, but still, it’s something I’m learning.

Editors Are Great –  One of the great blessings of the last year has been coming on staff over at Christ and Pop Culture. They introduced me to the world of writing with an editor. A good editor will save you from yourself at your worst moments as a writer and encourage your best. I’ve been sharpened by their input, corrections, and averted a couple of train-wrecks. Actually, it’s not just editors, but a writing community in general helps if you can get it. That’s one of the reasons I’ve loved writing with the crew over at CaPC–it’s really a collaborative effort. Also, the two or three guest pieces I’ve had over at Mere Orthodoxy have been some of the most helpful I’ve had as a writer. Matthew Lee Anderson is a brutal, savage man who will rip apart your work in the best way possible.

Projects Are Good – I started my Calvin Comments project a couple of months ago and it’s been a beneficial discipline for me. Setting a long-term writing project helps you develop your attention-span as a writer, strengthening your ability to focus in a a subject or thinker in order to penetrate deeper than the easy, initial observations.

Popularity Is Unpredictable – There are occasionally times when I’ve had a sense that a piece would do well and I’ve been right. For the most part, I’ve been totally surprised by the reactions/non-reactions I’ve seen to various pieces. The ones I work hardest on, love dearest, and pour the most of myself into, might get a yawn, while the quickie-post is my biggest day of the week. Go figure.

Write Clearly and Expect to Be Misread – I’ve had a few experiences online that have taught me you need to write clearly on the internet. You should write clearly in general, but people’s reading habits online can be kind of sloppy. We skim, read bold sections, italics, and the title and cobble together a general idea of the argument. Because of that, it’s best to set out your arguments, if you’re making an argument, as cleanly and unmistakably as possible. You also should expect some people to still not understand what you’re saying. It’s just a thing. I’m realizing that if you can’t take that, you’ll never survive.

This Too Shall Pass – In a few days, everything will be forgotten. This applies both to the praise and the controversy. By the grace of God, I’ve had a few pieces do surprisingly well. That’s cool for a day or two. Don’t get too elated, though. It’ll be forgotten quickly, as the internet rolls on. On the other hand, I’ve managed to get plunged into a couple of full-blown, this-is-a-real-thing, interwebs brouhahas. These were fairly unpleasant. One in particular landed me at the center of some uncomfortable attention, misunderstandings, and a whole lot of stress. But, as I found out, this too passed and was forgotten in short order. It’s very important to mind every word you write, for you will give an account one day to the Lord, but still, if you don’t make it a habit of being dip, it’ll be okay. Hopefully.

Idolatry Is Still Stupid – Getting your sense of identity and self from writing is, like every other form of idolatry, very stupid. It’s also very easy to fall into. Time and time again I’ve had to remind myself that good page-views or bad page-views do not determine my worth or standing as a child of God. If I live for the affirmation of good comments and shares, it inevitably won’t be enough, or the negative criticisms I receive will be devastating. No, before I’m a writer, I must reckon myself a child of God. Any other approach is spiritual folly.

God is Unpredictably Kind (Again) – I’ve always known God is unreasonably kind, but in the last year, he has surprised me with a number blessings I don’t deserve through the writing process. In the last few months he gave me the opportunity to: go to a couple of conferences I never would have gone to; meet some very kind people I never would have met otherwise; have the privilege of writing for websites I never would have imagined ever being noticed by; and rediscover a passion I’d let lie dormant for a number of years. I don’t know what the next year of writing holds, but I am so grateful for the year he’s given me so far. Here’s hoping the next one’s just as fun.

Finally, not that I’ve accomplished some big thing, but to all those who’ve played a part in this, whether reading, praying, commenting, or just generally supporting me: Thank you. For what it’s worth, It’s been big for me, so thanks for being a part of it.

Of course, as always, any and all glory ultimately is God’s alone.

Soli Deo Gloria

Work the Pictures

rootsOne thing I appreciate about Calvin the Exegete is his ability to work a metaphor. As good as he was at tracing a logical argument, drawing together variegated texts into a unified whole, he also had a deep appreciation for the pictures that Scripture uses to teach us. Not only does he understand and note them, he expands them and fills them out to great pastoral effect.

We can see him at work in his commentary on the Colossians. Paul is exhorting the Colossians early in chapter two to remain grounded firmly in the tradition that they were taught by Epaphras. False teachers were aiming to steal Christ from them, so Paul mixes three metaphors to paint a portrait of what faithful holding the true doctrine of Christ. Calvin draws them out for us:

  1. The first is in the word walk. For he compares the pure doctrine of the gospel, as they had learned it, to a way that is sure, so that if any one will but keep it he will be beyond all danger of mistake. He exhorts them, accordingly, if they would not go astray, not to turn aside from the course on which they have entered.
  2. The second is taken from trees. For as a tree that has struck its roots deep has a sufficiency of support for withstanding all the assaults of winds and storms, so, if any one is deeply and thoroughly fixed in Christ, as in a firm root, it will not be possible for him to be thrown down from his proper position by any machinations of Satan. On the other hand, if any one has not fixed his roots in Christ, he will easily be “carried about with every wind of doctrine”, (Ephesians 4:14,) just as a tree that is not supported by any root.
  3. The third metaphor is that of a foundation, for a house that is not supported by a foundation quickly falls to ruins. The case is the same with those who lean on any other foundation than Christ, or at least are not securely founded on him, but have the building of their faith suspended, as it were, in the air, in consequence of their weakness and levity.

Commentary on Colossians 2:6-7

So, we are to be keep to the path, in order to stay rooted, so we can be built up into Christ. Calvin takes each of those metaphors here and lets them have their full force, not letting the reader simply skim on by as we’re wont to do. No, instead, we are shown a safe path, a solidly-rooted tree, and a building which nothing can shake. Scripture’s metaphors are now engraved on our minds–or at least held more concretely than before.

Preachers of God’s word should take note here: work the pictures. Don’t rush past them to make some logical, structural point, but play with the images that the Word gives us–then make the point.

I’m not simply saying we should be like Calvin.  Calvin knew what the authors of scripture knew: that God uses these metaphors, these pictures, to capture our imagination in a way that, by the Spirit, our faith is actually increased and maintained. We are affective-imaginative-rational beings who can’t simply hear a logical point, we need to be immersed in it. Our minds and hearts need to have Scripture painted on their walls and windows, so that looking out at the world is like starting through a stained-glass window.

Scripture wouldn’t be so jam-packed with living, breathing images, like bees in a hive, if there weren’t some purpose to them. For preachers, they’re there to be used, to stir up the faith of our hearers to trust more deeply in the Christ whom they heard preach. That’s what Paul did, Calvin after him, and, if we’re smart, we will do too.

Soli Deo Gloria

The God of Theology or Reality? (Or, The Value of Spiritual Cartography)

desertTowards the end of Mere Christianity C.S. Lewis tackles the doctrine of the Trinity as well as salvation. Before he does so, he gives a bit of an apologetic for the task of teaching and studying theology to those who would say its unnecessary or dry in light of the reality of God that they’ve experienced in nature, watching a sunset, hiking in the woods, or in those dark moments where we’ve “felt” him.  This is easily among my top 5 favorite passages in Lewis’ works. And really, it’s so good, I don’t think it even needs more comment than to say that it’s as relevant today as it was 60 years ago. Take this passage to heart and meditate on it:

Everyone has warned me not to tell you what I am going to tell you in this last book. They all say “the ordinary reader does not want Theology; give him plain practical religion.” I have rejected their advice. I do not think the ordinary reader is such a fool. Theology means “the science of God,” and I think any man who wants to think about God at all would like to have the clearest and most accurate ideas about Him which are available. You are not children: why should you be treated like children?

In a way I quite understand why some people are put off by Theology. I remember once when I had been giving a talk to the RA.F., an old, hard-bitten officer got up and said, “I’ve no use for all that stuff. But, mind you, I’m a religious man too. I know there’s a God. I’ve felt Him: out alone in the desert at night: the tremendous mystery. And that’s just why I don’t believe all your neat little dogmas and formulas about Him. To anyone who’s met the real thing they all seem so petty and pedantic and unreal!”

Now in a sense I quite agreed with that man. I think he had probably had a real experience of God in the desert. And when he turned from that experience to the Christian creeds, I think he really was turning from something real to something less real.

In the same way, if a man has once looked at the Atlantic from the beach, and then goes and looks at a map of the Atlantic, he also will be turning from something real to something less real: turning from real waves to a bit of coloured paper. But here comes the point. The map is admittedly only coloured paper, but there are two things you have to remember about it. In the first place, it is based on what hundreds and thousands of people have found out by sailing the real Atlantic. In that way it has behind it masses of experience just as real as the one you could have from the beach; only, while yours would be a single isolated glimpse, the map fits all those different experiences together.

In the second place, if you want to go anywhere, the map is absolutely necessary. As long as you are content with walks on the beach, your own glimpses are far more fun than looking at a map. But the map is going to be more use than walks on the beach if you want to get to America.

Now, Theology is like the map. Merely learning and thinking about the Christian doctrines, if you stop there, is less real and less exciting than the sort of thing my friend got in the desert. Doctrines are not God: they are only a kind of map. But that map is based on the experience of hundreds of people who really were in touch with God—experiences compared with which any thrills or pious feelings you and I are likely to get on our own are very elementary and very confused. And secondly, if you want to get any further, you must use the map.

You see, what happened to that man in the desert may have been real, and was certainly exciting, but nothing comes of it. It leads nowhere. There is nothing to do about it. In fact, that is just why a vague religion—all about feeling God in nature, and so on—is so attractive. It is all thrills and no work; like watching the waves from the beach. But you will not get to Newfoundland by studying the Atlantic that way, and you will not get eternal life by simply feeling the presence of God in flowers or music. Neither will you get anywhere by looking at maps without going to sea. Nor will you be very safe if you go to sea without a map.

In other words, Theology is practical: especially now. In old days, when there was less education and discussion, perhaps it was possible to get on with a very few simple ideas about God. But it is not so now. Everyone reads, everyone hears things discussed. Consequently, if you do not listen to Theology, that will not mean that you have no ideas about God. It will mean that you have a lot of wrong ones—bad, muddled, out-of-date ideas. For a great many of the ideas about God which are trotted out as novelties today, are simply the ones which real Theologians tried centuries ago and rejected. To believe in the popular religion of modern England is retrogression—like believing the earth is flat.
Mere Christianity, Bk. 4.1 (Making and Begetting)

While I might like to say a little bit more about the role the Bible plays as the authorized set of interpreted experiences of God, this passage gives the lie to the idea that studying theology is of no practical value, or a discipline divorced from reality. If your goal is to actually know God, love God, worship God, as he is and not merely feel some vague fluff of a religious sense, then theology, or spiritual cartography, is necessary and vital.

Soli Deo Gloria