Men were made for work, for protection, and for rescue. When we look at the imago Dei, the glorious truth that we are made in the image of God, I fear we miss much when we describe it in terms of abilities. That is, while it is true that God wills and man wills, that God feels and man feels, that God thinks and man thinks, the connection runs deeper. It is grounded in telos, purpose, design. We reflect God’s glory also in our calling. The dominion mandate, the call to man to be fruitful and multiply, to rule over the creation, is a reflection of God in His act of creation.
Adam and Eve were placed in paradise and commanded to protect that garden, and to “gardenize” the “jungle” beyond. The garden was the model, the world outside it the calling. Our first parents were given every perfect gift- the garden itself, the “jungle” devoid of thistles and thorns, each other, and best of all the presence of God Himself, walking with them in the cool of the evening. They failed, plunging creation, themselves, and all who would come after into utter ruin.
The promise of the coming Seed of the Woman wasn’t plan B, but was instead the new plan to complete plan A. The Second Adam would not merely save us from the just penalty for our sins, but would complete what the first Adam failed to do. The redeemed, the bride, the Second Eve would be a helper suitable for Him. The dominion mandate would be fulfilled, but this time in the context of curse rather than blessing. Adam had every blessing, every advantage. Jesus, on the other hand, faced a humanly impossible task. But He won, and is recreating creation, us, and as many as are afar off.
All it took was taking flesh and dwelling with us. All it took was speaking truth, being despised. All it took was taking on an all out assault from the devil himself in the desert, and the full assault of the demonic realm at every turn. All it took was betrayal by His closest friends. All it took was the horror of death by crucifixion. None of which is worthy compared with this- all it took was for the wrath and fury of His own Father due to us for our rebellion to fall upon Him. All it took was descending into hell.
When I consider how unworthy I am, when I fear He would grow weary of carrying me, I return to this thought. He did not go through all this to abandon me. If ever a person should have confidence that His rescuer will never give up, it is I, who have been so painfully rescued. I am called to not neglect so great a salvation, which means in turn that I am called to believe that He will never neglect His great salvation of me. Jesus won me. He will not lose me. Because Jesus always wins. He is even now about the business of changing everything.
Thesis 88 We must correct gently.
The devil, I suspect, delights to play both sides against the middle. That is, when he encourages God’s people to careen into the ditch on one side of the road he is quick to encourage corrective measures that lead to others of God’s people careening into the ditch on the other side. We live in an age where the greater weakness in the church is a reluctance to make affirmations, on issues either of theology or morals. The mass of evangelicals have drunk deep of the world’s postmodern conceits, and so think it simple kindness to never mention the grievous sins or heretical ideas of their professing brothers and sisters.
Then there’s the rest of us. We know not only the difference between right and wrong, true and false, but the importance of differences. We consider ourselves heroic, pushing against the cultural tide in denouncing our spiritual siblings. The Bible, however, calls us to something different,
Brethren, if a man is overtaken in any trespass, you who are spiritual restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness, considering yourself lest you also be tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself (Galatians 6:1-3).
When we correct our brothers, and we of course are called to do so, encouraging one another toward righteousness, no one, I suspect, objects to the idea that we think we are right and our brother wrong. After all, if there’s a disagreement then our brother likewise thinks we are wrong. What upsets the applecart is when there is disagreement, and I not only think I am right, but think I am better. How quick we are to consider a wrong idea to be a grave moral failure. We do this, I’m pretty sure, because we’re foolish enough to think that our correct doctrine is the surest sign of our moral superiority.
A spirit of gentleness, as the text above suggests, is grounded in a deep grasp of this most foundational moral and theological principle, “There but for the grace of God go I.” It is a false humility that argues we are all on the same plane. It is a false pride that thinks the difference is grounded in us.
This follows from the text. Who are the spiritual ones? When a man is overtaken in a trespass, how do we know whom to send? Are the spiritual ones the ones with the most impressive theological library? The ones with the most honorable advanced degrees? No, the spiritual ones who should be called in are recognized precisely because they exhibit a spirit of gentleness, who recognize that they might also be tempted, that aren’t deceived into thinking they are all that and a bag of chips.
Reformation did, does and always will mean bringing correction. And it will always be destructive when driven by a spirit of pride. The One whose image we are being re-formed into never breaks the bruised reed, nor extinguishes the smoldering weak. Let us learn from Him.
Tonight, 7 eastern, we conclude our ABCs of Theology Study, looking at Z is for Omega. All are welcome in our home or on FB live, RC-Lisa Sproul. We pray you’ll join us.
I confess that I am one of the millions of sophomoric Christians who, along the way, thought it a brilliant idea to grow the kingdom of God by blending together the coolness of the world and the holiness of the faith. Exhibit a little charm, skate a little close to what even we would consider relatively minor sins, keep up to date on sports and celebrity news and hey presto goats would get herded by droves right into the sheep fold. It took me far too long to discern that this approach was not only an affront to Jesus but counter-productive. Nothing earns the contempt of the cool kids like desperately seeking their favor.
It was my habit for a few years as a kid to pray that God would allow me to be an All-Pro for the Steelers, so I could give Him honor and praise. Then I asked Him to make me a rock star, so I could shape the worldview of the young. As I got older I asked Him to help me write the Great American Novel, as a means of growing the kingdom. Then I noticed what all three of these plans had in common- I was volunteering to be universally loved and fabulously wealthy, all for the sake of my Redeemer.
When Jesus warns us that the world will hate us as it first hated Him, He wasn’t laying down a challenge to see if we could do better. He was preparing us and establishing for us a sound measure of our faithfulness. If the world loves us, in short, we’re doing it wrong.
That said, I would argue there are certain stereotypes unbelievers attach to believers that we should push against, not as a strategy for winning them, but as part of our growth in grace. Consider for instance our reputation for being prideful. It’s true we might hear such a charge simply by virtue of affirming that something is true. But it is also a charge we might hear because it can be true. We do in fact think too highly of ourselves. We do tend to think that what separates us from the unbeliever is something good in us, rather than the grace of God.
The same principle applies to the accusation that we are judgmental. Often that charge comes because we are standing on the Word of God, affirming His law. In such a context we need to simply grin and bear it. It is also true, however, that we can be prone to forget, when dealing with sinners, that not only such once were we, but that we still battle against our own flesh. We can present the gospel as a way of life that we have mastered rather than the rescuing of our life by the Master.
The short answer is we need to grow in grace and wisdom, with our eyes looking to please Him rather than them. As we do so we may very well surprise them, and be given an opportunity to tell them about Who is at work in our lives.
Our calling is to preach the whole counsel of God, and to do that, we have to preach the whole counsel of God.
But there is still more to it. Systematic theology reminds us that the Bible is one book. Indeed, because the God who wrote it is one (Deut. 6:4), it is likewise one. We cannot and must not pit one passage against another, as if John 3:16 can be trumped by or can trump John 3:3. Neither, however, can John 3:16 trump or be trumped by Psalm 14:3. In order to preach a passage rightly, it must be preached in context. Context, however, isn’t simply the verse or chapter before and the verse or chapter after; it is the totality of the Word of God. Thus, when we preach a particular passage, if we do it right, we actually are preaching the whole counsel of God. We preach the whole Bible every time we preach any passage of the Bible. We cannot rightly explain the love of God if we do not include an understanding of the wrath of God. And in like manner, we cannot rightly explain the wrath of God if we do not include the love of God. The Word of God, paradoxically, is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside.
But how can we capture the whole counsel of the Lord without swallowing the entire day of the Lord in the process? It’s hard enough to preach one small passage without having various notifications chiming away to let us know folks might miss their tee time without having at the same time to preach the whole Bible.
The solution comes when we remember that we not only ought to preach the passages as they come and that we not only ought to teach the whole of the Bible whenever we preach any of the Bible, but that we must always preach Christ and Him crucified. This, however, isn’t the third point in this written sermon on sermons. Instead, it subsumes the other two points. That is, there is one hobby horse we must never dismount or allow ourselves to be bucked from. The one message that all the Bible proclaims, from cover to cover, is the story of Jesus Christ.
Thus, when Paul boldly declared that he would preach nothing but Christ and Him crucified, he did not mean that all of his sermons would be taken from the last pages of the gospels. Paul was certainly familiar with the end of the gospel of Luke, where we find the story of Jesus on the road to Emmaus. Our tendency when we come to this passage is to look at it in the context of the hidden Jesus. That is, we want to understand how it was that Jesus was not recognized and how He seemingly disappeared. What ought to fascinate us, however, is the glimpse we are given of the revealed Jesus.
On the road to Emmaus, Jesus gave the one sermon above all others that I would like to have heard. Beginning with Moses, we are told, Jesus explained all of the Old Testament. Here was an Old Testament survey lecture given by the Master Himself. But the great thing about this sermon wasn’t so much that it explained the Old Testament, but that it explained Jesus. That is, Jesus preached rightly. As we are told, He “expounded to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself.”
The book of Genesis then, isn’t ultimately only the story of the Creation or of the patriarchs. It is also the story of Jesus. The book of Exodus doesn’t exist merely so that we would understand how God’s people came to the Promised Land, but also so that we would understand the Promised One. The book of Leviticus isn’t simply a collection of arcane rules regarding sacrifices. It is also an exposition of the Ruler over all things who is our one sacrifice. The book of Esther, we are told, doesn’t even mention God’s name. But it, too, if we would rightly understand it, speaks of God’s Son. Of course we weren’t there. We didn’t hear that sermon. But we know at least this much, that the story was all about Jesus.
In the church where I serve, we find it rather easy to remember to preach Christ and Him crucified. We remember to do this because every week we remember to remember after the sermon. That is, we preach not only the text, not only the whole of the Bible, not only Christ and Him crucified, but we preach also the table. After we hear the Word preached, we eat and we drink the Word visible. One of the advantages of celebrating the table of the Lord every week is that it reminds us of what it is we are to preach. The table, which without the preaching of the Word would just be a table, adorns the preaching of the Word, adding a means of grace to the means of grace of preaching.
Even after the preaching of the Word, we must labor not to forget how and why we have preached. Though it doesn’t happen as often as I’d like, from time to time a congregant will greet me after the service and say, “That was a great sermon, pastor.” I always respond by saying, “I get to preach a great Gospel.” It is for this reason that our fathers were known to place on their pulpits this written reminder of the very purpose of preaching: “Sir, we would see Jesus.” May we honor those fathers in our sermons, and better still, honor the Jesus whom they preached.
