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Published on Leave a comment on Freedom – where to begin?

Seriously, Happy Creation Day everybody.  Hope you've been enjoying the festivities.

The other day I started talking about freedom: Beginning with ourselves will never get us to a sustainable or satisfying account of freedom.

When we say: "I am who I am / I will be who I will be", it is both blasphemous (Exodus 3:6) and the very expression of our bondage.  We become trapped by an identity that can allow no foreign claims.  We simply become identified as one with a capacity to choose.  And yet in maintaining that capacity as an absolute sovereignty we are defined in abstraction from the relationships that form and direct us as choosers.  I'm a slave to my desires.  Ephesians 2:1-3.  In the very act of gratifying the cravings of my flesh, right then I am enslaved.

We can't begin our thinking about freedom with ourselves.

So where should we begin it?

Well it's very popular to begin with man choosing in the garden.

Yet if we begin in Eden, what account of freedom results?  We effectively define freedom as the ability to choose or not to choose certain paths.  The ability to act otherwise is seen as the very 'freedom' which the LORD grants humanity.  And so of course the decision to eat the forbidden fruit becomes an expression of free will (defined as a power of self-direction).  On this account Adam exercised freedom in disobeying the LORD even though it was a freedom with a cosmically heavy price tag.  And so in this very popular telling of the freedom story, "Freedom" (which is now almost by definition the ability to disobey!) is some unquestioned Good that is traded off against the consequences of its exercise - "Heck, the fall was bad, but that's the price of freedom!"

Hmmm.

What kind of "freedom" is this?

Well let's ask - how does it compare to divine freedom?  Is the freedom of the Father, Son or Holy Spirit a freedom that would be expressed in choosing evil?  Well the Scriptures continually tell us that the Almighty, who can do whatever He pleases (e.g. Psalm 115:3), cannot sin, lie, deny Himself.  He who is free does not define His freedom as the ability to do evil.  For the divine Persons to choose any course of action contrary to their Personhood would be an expression of slavery not freedom.  For the Trinity, freedom is not the ability to do wrong, nor is it enhanced by such opportunities.

This holds also for humanity in the new creation.

In the New Jerusalem the forbidden fruit is gone, the tree of life alone takes centre stage. (Rev 22:1-3).  Not only will humanity never fall, there won't even be the option for us to do so.  That's a wonderful thought (unless you're eye-ball deep in the humanist version of freedom!).  But more than this, the bible calls this new creation state of affairs freedom.  Galatians 4:26 says the Jerusalem above is free.  The saints in glory now and the redeemed earth then will be characterized by mind-blowing freedom (cf Romans 8:19-21).  So for glorified humanity, freedom is not the ability to do wrong, nor is freedom enhanced by such opportunities.  Freedom flourishes even (and especially!) when there is no option but to continually serve the Father in the Son and by the Spirit.

So then, we're going to have to get a different definition of freedom.  Where from?  Well perhaps our initial instinct wasn't so bad after all.  Maybe we do need to begin with man choosing in the garden.

Gethsemane is the garden.  And Jesus is the Man.  He will show us what true freedom looks like.

Think first of who He is - the Son.

This speaks of many things - let's highlight three:

  1. Christ's Sonship means He is loved.  He is the eternal Son of His Father's love (Colossians 1:13).  He is the Object of the overflowing love of the Father - the Original recipient and goal of all the Father's omnipotent grace.
  2. Christ's Sonship means He is obedient.  As Son, Jesus always does His Father's will (John 5:17ff).
  3. Christ's Sonship means He is free.  Sonship is consistently contrasted with slavery by Jesus and Paul (e.g. John 8:31-36; Galatians 4).  He is the Liberator who is Himself the True Free Man.

These three aspects of His Person are perfectly coordinated in Jesus.  We can never play off grace, obedience and freedom.  In our thinking we may consider them to be opposed but when we trace these things back to their centre in Jesus we see that they perfectly inform and explain one another.

And so how does this Man in this garden show us true freedom?

Let's consider Mark 14:36:

"Abba, Father," he said, "everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will."

First He acknowledges His filial relationship with God - 'Abba, Father'.  All the shades of sonship we've just discussed should be in the forefront of our minds.

Next He acknowledges 'everything is possible for You.'  The Son doesn't go to the cross because the Father is 'all out of options.'  No-one is holding a gun to the Father's head - not the Son, not some necessary logic of redemption, nothing.  What happens happens in the Father's will - a will unbound by any forces beyond Him.  The Father is indeed free from compulsion (though this is not our final definition of freedom).

But finally, when Jesus says 'Take this cup from me, yet not what I will but what you will' He confesses a different will to that of the Father.  In all of history, in all of theology this is unparalleled.  It is stunning, shocking, scandalizing... I could go on.  The Son, even if only for a moment, is considering an option other than obedience to His Father's will.  Even though He is the obedient Son, even though He is the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world (Rev 13:8) and the Son of Man who must die (Mark 8:31), He contemplates another way.  It seems like no-one is holding a gun to the Son's head either.  He must die, because He will die.  And He will die voluntarily.  In a reversal of Eden, the last Adam submits His will to the Father's and in this submission expresses true freedom.

It is not rebellion that demonstrates freedom but obedience.  This is the great difference between popular notions of freedom and Christ's.  Choosing does not make us free - choosing submission (paradoxically!) does.  When we view things in the Son we see that obedience and freedom, rebellion and slavery are inextricably linked.  The only free choice is the one for obedience.

Ans so where Adam chose self-rule and brought slavery, Christ chose submission and brought redemption.  It's at Gethsemane that we see true freedom for there we see the true Son, truly loved by His Abba, Father and truly obedient to His will.  "Everything is possible" is not the definition of freedom.  It's the use of these possibilities that demonstrates true freedom.  And this use is only a liberated use when it is obedient.

From this we get a different defintion of freedom.  It's not about options, it's about responsible use of the will in expression of your grace-given, relational identity.  The capacity for disobedience is not a criterion for freedom and choosing to disobey can only be slavery.  Instead true freedom is found in Christ and by the power of the Spirit, living out your blood-bought sonship (daughtership) in obedience to the Father's will.  To choose anything else is the bondage of the will.

In future posts I'll look at the implications of this for the non-Christian and the Christian.

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Published on Leave a comment on New Wineskins

Some thoughts generated from a sermon on Mark 2:18-3:6

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In Mark 1:40-2:17 we saw three stories about the people of Jesus' kingdom.  And this was the shock: The people of Jesus' kingdom are the lepers, the paralytics, the tax collectors and their spiritual equivalents.  Jesus calls sinners.  Sinners.  Not the righteous.  Jesus' people are not the people religion expects. 

In Mark 2:18-3:6 we continue with this revolution.  In these three stories the focus is on practices - in particular fasting and Sabbath observance.  And again, Jesus' practices are not the practices religion expects.

Jesus does not fit our religious moulds.  And so over the top of the three stories stands Mark 2:21-22 where Jesus gives us this mental image:

"No-one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment. If he does, the new piece will pull away from the old, making the tear worse. And no-one pours new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the wine will burst the skins, and both the wine and the wineskins will be ruined. No, he pours new wine into new wineskins."

People are looking at Jesus and struggling to fit Him into their way of thinking.  But Jesus is saying:  It's not that I don't fit into your religious expectations.  Jesus says I won't fit into your religious expectations.  It's impossible to contain Jesus within moulds that aren't already designed with Him at the centre.

Jesus and His practices are like new cloth and if you try to patch them onto any old cloth it will tear apart the garment.  Jesus and His practices are like new wine and if you try to contain them within any old wineskin it'll burst the thing apart.  Whatever spiritual forms that exist in Jesus' kingdom they must consciously and explicitly be oriented to Jesus Himself.  Christ refuses to be just one more ingredient in a human religion.  You can't just take a bit of this spirituality and a bit of that philosophy and add a twist of Jesus.  You can't take your own common sense, your own culture's moral code and then expect Jesus to fit in.  Jesus demands a complete revolution.  If we haven't already, we have to begin afresh with Jesus.

In Jesus' kingdom, if you fast, you fast because of Him (you experience the absence of your Bridegroom - the true meaning of the Yom Kippur fast).  If you feast, you feast because of Him (you anticipate the presence of your Bridegroom).  If you observe Sabbath you do so 'to the Lord'.  If you don't, that's also 'to the Lord' (Rom 14:5-9).  Whatever forms of spiritual practice that exist in Jesus' kingdom are to explicitly relate to the Person of Christ.

Now apply this to any spiritual practice.  The question is not whether nor is it which practices you perform, not in the first instance.  The most pressing question is why.  More specifically the question is how is Jesus Himself the centre of this practice?  Think, for instance of bible reading.  Is reading the bible a spiritual practice of yours?  Why?  Because that's what Christians do?  Because advancing the bookmark makes you more holy?  Well you've just stripped Jesus out of this spiritual practice and turned it into human religion. 

Jesus spoke to the religious of his day who clung onto the scriptures as an old wineskin, yet they had no place for Jesus:

You diligently study the Scriptures because you think that by them you possess eternal life. These are the Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life.  (John 5:39-40)

This is simply an extension of the wineskin principle to the Scriptures.  Without Jesus consciously at the centre of this practice it becomes an old wineskin - unable to cope with the reality of Jesus Himself.

Now of course the Scriptures, viewed truly, already have Jesus at the centre.  In the same way fasting and Sabbath, viewed truly, always ought to have had Jesus at the centre (hence Jesus' consistent appeals to the Old Testament in Mark).  But it's entirely possible that proper looking religious practices - even biblically mandated ones - can miss the whole Point.  The danger is always that we hold onto spiritual forms and neglect our spiritual Centre.

What spiritual practices do we need to re-examine in this light?

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Read the sermon here

Listen here

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Published on Leave a comment on Too far?

Is it too much to say "Jesus is the abolition of religion" as I did in my last post?

Thanks to Marc who commented with this:

Glen, this “religion” as a dirty word is tiresome and misleading, don’t you think? Jesus came to abolish man-made religion and false religion, sure. He calls us to true religion of the James 1:27 sort, no?

Here's a couple of thoughts in response:

You could say the same about "righteous acts" (Isaiah 64:6).  Should righteousness be a dirty word?  Well not when it's the LORD's clothing of me (Isaiah 61:10).  But when it's me clothing myself, it's a filthy rag.  

Now the point is not so much that there's bad religion and good religion and the LORD steers us from one to the other.  As He has just said in Isaiah 64:4 - He is unlike any other god since He works for those who wait for Him.  He is the abolition of this kind of working religion for He does the work.  This being the case, it's not simply that the LORD calls us away from establishing a filthy righteousness and into establishing our own pure righteousness.  To establish my own righteousness at all - even by God's law is filthy (cf Rom 10:3-4).  And this is what I mean by 'religion'.  And this is why I use strong language about it.

If this is so, then it could actually be misleading if I only decried one kind of religion.  It's not as though the gospel says 'Don't establish your righteousness like that, establish your righteousness like this.'

The religions of the world can squabble about which path to tread - the gospel comes from above, not as one more path but as the abolition of that quest.

Religion (defined in this sense) is man justifying man before a watching god.  The gospel is God justifying God before a watching man.

So there's something very radical to be upheld when we proclaim the gospel.  And we reach for strong language to do so.  We say things like "faith alone" and we say it strongly even though there are true and right ways in which James seems to deny them (James 2:24).  Strongly proclaiming "Faith alone" might appear tiresome or misleading to some - but we passionately stand behind that phrase knowing the explanations we'll have to make down the track about what James means and how 'works' is a redeemable word in certain contexts. 

Equally, when we say "the gospel is not about do but done" - we say that boldly even though we know we'll need to explain at some stage that there is much for the Christian to do. 

In the same way - to radically uphold the complete reversal of the gospel - I think 'Jesus is the abolition of religion' is in that kind of category.  It provokes people in such a way that they see the radical nature of the LORD who works for those who wait (rather than the other way around).  If it does that, then it's done a useful job I think. 

What do you think? 

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Published on Leave a comment on Jesus: the abolition of religion

Adapted from a sermon on Mark 1:40-2:17

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Jesus' teaching.  Jesus' followers.  Do you ever have trouble putting those two things together?

In a sense that's the problem the Christian faces as they seek to follow Him.  And it's the problem the non-Christian has as they look on.  How do Jesus' teaching and His followers go together??

Think about it.  With Jesus we hear righteous teaching like the world has never heard.  And yet, who flocks to Him?  The scum, the low-lives, the outsiders, the sinners.

Jesus teaches the hardest line on good living ever imagined.  He even says at one point "Be perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect." (Matt 5:48).  Jesus raises the spiritual temperature to nuclear - and who flocks to Him?  Not the priests?  Not the religious types.  Not the goody goodies.  Those guys, in their long flowing robes are standing on the edges of the crowd, arms folded, plotting to destroy Jesus (Mark 3:6). 

The LORD Almighty walks around 1st century Palestine.  The Son of the Living God is calling His people and who is His entourage?  Unrighteous, disreputable outcasts.  It's a tremendous shock but it's at the heart of what Jesus came to do. 

As He says in Mark 2:17 "I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners."  Jesus is the abolition of religion.  All human religion says "God calls the goodies not the baddies."  Jesus says "I call the baddies not the goodies."  Jesus is the abolition of religion.

The religious types stand on the fringes plotting to do away with Jesus.  But Jesus is at the centre doing away with religion.  These verses (Mark 1:40 right up until 3:6) are a fight to the death between Jesus and religion.  Religion is working to kill Jesus but Jesus is working to kill religion.

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To read the whole sermon go here

To listen go here

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27

Published on 27 Comments on He saved my life and I don't even know his name

Anyone else sick of the whole 'Christ in the OT' debate?  Man... some people just go on and on.

I'm announcing a new hobby horse - Christ in the NT.  In fact I think this is where you really see a preacher's Christ-centredness.  We've had the rule drummed into us by now - Thou shalt 'bridge to Christ' at the end of an Old Testament sermon.  But does this 'bridge' come from convictions regarding Jesus the Word or is it simply a preaching convention that we slavishly follow? 

Well you can probably guess at the answer by listening to a preacher's New Testament sermons.  Now I fail at this all the time but I think the challenge for all of us is this: Is Jesus the Hero of the sermon on the mount or Mark 13 or the gifts passages or James?  And the issue for this mini-series - what about the parables? 

Last time I looked at Matthew 13:44-46.  Who the man?  Jesus the Man.  He seeks and finds us and in His joy He purchases us.  All praise to Him.  As Piper likes to say 'the Giver gets the glory' and in this parable (contra Piper's own interpretation of it) Jesus' glory is on show as He gives up all for His treasured possession - the church.

In this post we'll look briefly at the Good Samaritan: Luke 10:25-37 

First notice this: the teacher of the law asks 'Who is my neighbour?'  This prompts the story.  At the end of the story Jesus asks Who was neighbour to the guy left for dead? (v36).  So now, think about this:  With whom is Jesus asking us to identify?  The priest? Levite? Samaritan?  No.  Not first of all.  First of all we are asked to see ourselves as the man left for dead.  And from his perspective we are to assess who is a good neighbour.  Here's the first clue - we're meant to put ourselves in the shoes of the fallen man.

Why do I say 'fallen'?  Well the man's fallenness is triply-underlined in v30.  He "goes down" from Jerusalem (this earthly counterpart of the heavenly Zion).  He's heading towards the outskirts of the land (Jericho) which is due east of this mountain sanctuary (echoes of Eden).  This would involve a physical descent of about a thousand metres in the space of just 23 miles.  If that wasn't bad enough, the man "falls" among robbers.  He's stripped, plagued (literally that's the greek word), abandoned and half-dead.  That's the man's precidament and Jesus wants us to see it as our predicament.  So what hope do we have?

The priest?  Nope.  The Levite?  No chance.  What about a 'certain Samaritan' (mirroring the 'certain man' of v30)?  He's not at all like the religious.  In fact the one who 'comes to where the man is' happens to be someone who'd equally have been shunned by the priest and Levite! 

Yet this Samaritan 'had compassion' (v33).  In the New Testament this verb, which could be translated 'he was moved in his bowels with pity', is used only of Jesus. (Matt. 9:36; 14:14; 15:32; 18:27; 20:34; Mk. 1:41; 6:34; 8:2; 9:22; Lk. 7:13; 10:33; 15:20) In every narrative passage Jesus is the subject of the verb and the three parables in which it's used are the merciful King of Matthew 18 (v27), here and the father in the Two Sons (Lk 15:20).  More about that in the next post.

Well this Good Samaritan comes across the man left for dead and for emphasis we are twice told about him 'coming' to the man (v33 and 34).  The Outsider identifies with the spurned and wretched.

Now remember whose shoes we are in as Jesus tells this story.  We are meant to imagine ourselves as this brutalized man.  Now read v34:

He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own beast, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper. `Look after him,' he said, `and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.'

Now I don't have to tell you what these things mean.  You've got blueletterbible - you can do your own biblical theology of oil, wine, etc.  But remember you're meant to be putting yourself in the position of this fallen man, left for dead, unaided by religion, healed by an extraordinary stranger and awaiting his return.  Are you there?  Have you felt those depths and appreciated those heights?  Well then, now:

You go and do likewise. (v37)

Don't first conjure up the character of the good samaritan.  First be the fallen man.  First experience the healing of this Beautiful Stranger.  Then go and do likewise.

Or... leave Jesus out of it.  Spin it as a morality tale and end with "Who was that masked man? No matter - just go and do likewise."  

See how important 'Jesus in the NT' is?

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Published on Leave a comment on He saved my life and I don’t even know his name

Anyone else sick of the whole 'Christ in the OT' debate?  Man... some people just go on and on.

I'm announcing a new hobby horse - Christ in the NT.  In fact I think this is where you really see a preacher's Christ-centredness.  We've had the rule drummed into us by now - Thou shalt 'bridge to Christ' at the end of an Old Testament sermon.  But does this 'bridge' come from convictions regarding Jesus the Word or is it simply a preaching convention that we slavishly follow? 

Well you can probably guess at the answer by listening to a preacher's New Testament sermons.  Now I fail at this all the time but I think the challenge for all of us is this: Is Jesus the Hero of the sermon on the mount or Mark 13 or the gifts passages or James?  And the issue for this mini-series - what about the parables? 

Last time I looked at Matthew 13:44-46.  Who the man?  Jesus the Man.  He seeks and finds us and in His joy He purchases us.  All praise to Him.  As Piper likes to say 'the Giver gets the glory' and in this parable (contra Piper's own interpretation of it) Jesus' glory is on show as He gives up all for His treasured possession - the church.

In this post we'll look briefly at the Good Samaritan: Luke 10:25-37 

First notice this: the teacher of the law asks 'Who is my neighbour?'  This prompts the story.  At the end of the story Jesus asks Who was neighbour to the guy left for dead? (v36).  So now, think about this:  With whom is Jesus asking us to identify?  The priest? Levite? Samaritan?  No.  Not first of all.  First of all we are asked to see ourselves as the man left for dead.  And from his perspective we are to assess who is a good neighbour.  Here's the first clue - we're meant to put ourselves in the shoes of the fallen man.

Why do I say 'fallen'?  Well the man's fallenness is triply-underlined in v30.  He "goes down" from Jerusalem (this earthly counterpart of the heavenly Zion).  He's heading towards the outskirts of the land (Jericho) which is due east of this mountain sanctuary (echoes of Eden).  This would involve a physical descent of about a thousand metres in the space of just 23 miles.  If that wasn't bad enough, the man "falls" among robbers.  He's stripped, plagued (literally that's the greek word), abandoned and half-dead.  That's the man's precidament and Jesus wants us to see it as our predicament.  So what hope do we have?

The priest?  Nope.  The Levite?  No chance.  What about a 'certain Samaritan' (mirroring the 'certain man' of v30)?  He's not at all like the religious.  In fact the one who 'comes to where the man is' happens to be someone who'd equally have been shunned by the priest and Levite! 

Yet this Samaritan 'had compassion' (v33).  In the New Testament this verb, which could be translated 'he was moved in his bowels with pity', is used only of Jesus. (Matt. 9:36; 14:14; 15:32; 18:27; 20:34; Mk. 1:41; 6:34; 8:2; 9:22; Lk. 7:13; 10:33; 15:20) In every narrative passage Jesus is the subject of the verb and the three parables in which it's used are the merciful King of Matthew 18 (v27), here and the father in the Two Sons (Lk 15:20).  More about that in the next post.

Well this Good Samaritan comes across the man left for dead and for emphasis we are twice told about him 'coming' to the man (v33 and 34).  The Outsider identifies with the spurned and wretched.

Now remember whose shoes we are in as Jesus tells this story.  We are meant to imagine ourselves as this brutalized man.  Now read v34:

He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own beast, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper. `Look after him,' he said, `and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.'

Now I don't have to tell you what these things mean.  You've got blueletterbible - you can do your own biblical theology of oil, wine, etc.  But remember you're meant to be putting yourself in the position of this fallen man, left for dead, unaided by religion, healed by an extraordinary stranger and awaiting his return.  Are you there?  Have you felt those depths and appreciated those heights?  Well then, now:

You go and do likewise. (v37)

Don't first conjure up the character of the good samaritan.  First be the fallen man.  First experience the healing of this Beautiful Stranger.  Then go and do likewise.

Or... leave Jesus out of it.  Spin it as a morality tale and end with "Who was that masked man? No matter - just go and do likewise."  

See how important 'Jesus in the NT' is?

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15

Published on 15 Comments on Jesus, not some Christ-principle

An interviewer once suggested to Barth that he followed a christo-centric principle in his theology.  Barth was not impressed.  He insisted that he had no interest in a christo-centric principle.  He was interested in Christ Himself. 

Whether Barth always achieved that is another matter (who does?).  But at least he identified the danger with which all theologians (i.e. all Christians) must reckon.  Is Jesus Himself our Lord, or have we tamed the Lion of Judah making Him serve our real theological agenda?

Let me play devil's advocate and describe four popular ways you can turn Jesus into a mechanism to serve some abstract theological concern.  (Please do add others in the comments).

1) A general ethic of inclusion

2) A general doctrine of universalism

3) A general object of devotion

4) A general concept of grace

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1) A general ethic of inclusion

You know the kind of thing - "Jesus identified with the outsider, the persecuted, the marginalised.  He opposed the religious and those who would condemn or exclude."  Take the aforementioned generality, apply it to your cause celebre and, presto, one all-purpose inclusion ethic.  NB: Best not to pry too closely into Jesus' particular ethical pronouncements nor the Scriptures He claimed could not be broken.

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2) A general doctrine of universalism

Here, as with the other examples, it is vitally important to think of Jesus in abstraction.  Again, do not pry into the actual teaching of Christ, especially His words concerning judgement, but think only of Christ as Cosmic Reconciler.  Now that you've turned Him into a principle, theologize away on the inevitability of universal salvation.  After all the universal Creator has taken universal flesh and wrought a universal victory.  Keep it in universal terms, in the abstract.  Don't get too close to the Person of Jesus - it's the principle of reconciliation you want. 

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3) A general object of devotion

Take a prolix puritan, set them to work on some devotional writing, give them Song of Songs as their text and wait for the treacle to flow.  Delight in the mystical union.  Let the particularity of the One to Whom we are united be swallowed up in the general enjoyment of that union. 

Or take a modern worship leader strumming tenderly, synth strings in the background, congregation swaying.  Wait for the effusions of ardour - mountains climbed, oceans swum to be near to... Who?  Jesus of Nazareth?  Or some ideal Love?  Is this praise to Jesus?  Or praise to praise?  What's missing?  Very often the actual Jesus is missing.  This is key.  Make sure that you abstract Jesus from His words and works.  Do not think in concrete terms.  In fact it's best not to think.  Simply imagine Him as 'The Highest Object of Our Hearts' and just enjoy the gush. 

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4) A general concept of grace

This one's very seductive, I'm always falling for it so I know whereof I speak.  Define yourself as 'a believer in grace'.  Define the gospel in terms of this abstract principle - grace.  Speak of the love of God.  Even speak of the sin of man.  But only speak of the Jesus who reconciles the two as a handy instrument - an instrument of Grace.  That's the main thing - Jesus fits into this grace paradigm.  That's why we love Him. 

When anyone asks what Christianity is - tell them: 'It's not works!  People think it's works, but it's not!'  And when they say 'Ok, alright, calm down.  Tell me what it is,' don't tell them it's Jesus.  And definitely don't introduce them to the walking, talking actual Jesus.  That'll only distract them from your excellent grace-not-works diagrams.  Major on the whole grace-not-works principle.  And if they ever want to receive this principle into their own lives (after all your diagrams make a lot of sense) tell them to accept 'grace' as a free gift and they're in.  They may well struggle to understand what receiving a concept actually looks like or whether they've done it properly (or at all).  They may well question whether their intellectual assent to your diagram really has decisive eternal significance.  But whatever you do, don't point them to the Person of Jesus.  Grace is the thing.   

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In all of these examples Jesus is called on to serve a pre-existing theological programme.  He may be treated with the utmost respect.  He may be considered the very chief Witness or the Exemplar par excellence.  But He is at your service, not you at His.

Beware fitting Jesus into your pet theological programme.  We do it all the time but He resists all efforts to turn Him into a principle.  The Truth is a Person and will not be abstracted.

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Published on Leave a comment on Responding to sin

How should we respond to sin in our lives?

One response is to think 'Come on Glen, I'm better than that.'

Another is to think 'Come on Glen, Christ is better than that.'

The first may produce a very moral life.  But the devil is more than happy to concede to you a Christ-less morality.  Self-righteousness is a far muddier swamp than unrighteous living.  I am not better than my sin.  I am not even better than the foulest evil I've imagined.

Instead, when I sin I am revealed as the person I've always been.  Psalm 51:5 has often struck me.  Here is David with blood on his hands.  Yet his confession is that the man who committed adultery and murder is the man he had always been.

We think when we've sinned that it was just a blot on our otherwise acceptable record.  The word of God says our sins simply express the person we have always been (Matt 7:17f). My gross sins are not 'out of character' - they are me with the hand-brake off.

No sin can shock me.  Not my own, nor the sins of my brothers and sisters who confess to me.  If the blood of God was shed for my sin (Acts 20:28) - then my sin is infinitely heinous.  No, I'm not better than sin.  But Christ is. 

This is true in two senses. 

First it's true in the sense that Christ is more desirable than sin.  In the wilderness of temptations, Satan can only offer me a bucket of salt.  Christ always stands before me with living waters (John 4:10; 7:38; Rev 7:17).  The father of lies tells me life is found in this sin.  Jesus tells me it's a broken cistern that can hold no water.  Only His waters are truly life-giving. (Jer 2:12-13)  I forsake even my precious sins because I have learnt that Jesus is more desirable.

But Christ is better than sin in another, much more important, sense.  For He is the good person that I fail to be.  He is the reality that stands before the holy Father - not my sin. 

My sin, though it clings to my bones and sinks to the depths of my heart, does not define me, Christ does.  When the Father looks to find me, He does not look in the record that stands against me (Ps 130:3; Col 2:14).  He looks to His Beloved Son and finds me hidden there. 

Which means even as the diseased tree of my flesh produces in me the very worst fruit, Christ is my Plea, my Status, my Righteousness.  Even as the chief of sinners, even in the act of my worst rebellion, Christ - the One who is infinitely better - defines me and not my sin.

So Christ is better in both these senses.  But - and here's where this post has been heading - without being utterly convinced of this latter sense, the former sense could easily lead to a Pharasaism not unlike the 'I am better than sin' response.

How so?

Well if I respond to sin simply by saying 'Jesus is more desirable' it basically throws me back on myself.  I am left with my own heart and its ability to desire Jesus.  The work of annihilating sin becomes simply my work of destroying my heart idols.  The work of liberation is simply the work of my affections desiring Christ with sufficient ardour.  Where is the locus of this redemption?  Me.

Now do my heart-idols need crucifying?  Yes.  Do I need Christ uppermost in my affections?  Yes.  But by golly, if I found it hard to reform my outward behaviour - how hard is it going to be to reform my inner world??!  Impossible.

So, you say, that's why we need the gracious work of the Spirit and diligently to employ the means of grace, etc, etc.  Well... there's a time and a place for that.  But let's think.  If that's our bottom line, doesn't it sound exactly like the Catholic view of grace?  "It's all of grace" says the Catholic "... supernatural, infused grace worked in us, with which we cooperate, making us better and better over time."  Doesn't that sound very similar to "We fight sin by enflaming our affections for Christ - flames stoked by the Spirit via His means of grace"?  

It's not that there's no place for the 'Christ is more desirable' approach.  It's that we must recognize it's true place - i.e. after we're assured of the extrinsic work of Christ.  "Grace" is not basically a supernatural empowerment to work at my salvation or to enflame my Christian affections.  "Grace" is the work of Christ alone on behalf of sinners who contribute nothing.  (This is similar to the points I made here - grace is not so much the bread David provides as the victory David wins).

Therefore my first reponse to sin is this - even in the very midst of sin, Jesus has been carrying me on His heart before the Father.  Even ensnared in the darkest selfishness, the Spirit has been calling 'Abba' from within me.  Even as my heart desired worthless idols, the Father loved me even as He loves Christ.

This is the truth that really changes us.  It reveals to us that not even our sin can separate us from the love of God in Christ.  We realize again that our darkness is not a locked basement to the Lord.  Even our self-willed rebellion cannot remove us from His embrace.  We sin in His face - this drives us down in contrition.  And at the same time He is lifting us up to the Father. 

The truth that really changes us is that our lives are not our own.  Jesus has taken possession of us in spite of ourselves and wills to do us eternal good.  The Spirit of sonship is already praying 'Abba' in you.  The affections you are so keen to enflame are already ablaze - and that, even as you quench Him!   

Now surrender.  Now be conquered. Now receive what is entirely beyond you.  And see if you don't love Him with renewed and supernatural vigour!  But don't begin with your heart for Christ.  Begin with His heart for you.

We love because He first loved us. 1 John 4:19

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Published on Leave a comment on Four surprises in Mark 8

(I'll get back to the series soon, just thought I'd break things up).

I was reading some very familiar words again:

 Jesus then began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again. He spoke plainly about this, and Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter. "Get behind me, Satan!" he said. "You do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men."  (Mark 8:31-33)

Here are four shocks:

  1. The 'things of men' are satanic.  To simply buy into the things of men (as opposed to the things of God) is to be a conduit of Satan.
  2. Minding the 'things of men' is a simple matter of moving towards comfort and away from the way of the cross.  Satanism is simply the preference of comfort to cruciformity.
  3. Peter's sin is not even that he desires his own comfort but that he attempts to shepherd another away from the cross and towards comfort.  Peter thinks he is helping Jesus, in fact his encouragement to self-protection is demonic.
  4. The 'things of God' is Christ crucified.  Think of the highest heights of deity - mind the things of God - and what do you picture?  Jesus says picture Him bleeding for demons like Peter.  That's what 'the things of God' consist in.  To shy from this is to embrace the things of men and become a servant of Satan.

 

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