Tonight, 7 eastern, at our home or on Facebook Live, RC-Lisa Sproul we begin our celebration of Advent. All are welcome.
Sometimes, indeed often, we build and maintain our paradigms for our own comfort. Our worldview is usually less the result of careful, dispassionate, sober-minded analysis, and more the result of self-serving, special pleading, rationalization of our sin. We believe what we believe not because these beliefs commend themselves to our minds, but because in our minds the beliefs commend us. It is these habits of our desperately deceitful hearts that make us miss the voice of God. He speaks, and we hear what we want to.
We come to our Bibles with this most fundamental presupposition- whatever the Bible may be saying, it can’t be telling me that my life needs to be fundamentally changed. Wherever the Bible calls for such change, it must be addressing someone else. Out of this presupposition flows what I call “the diabolical art of simultaneous translation.” This is what happens when our eyes roam across the very words of God in Scripture, but our mind changes what we read into something safe, something reasonable, something inoffensive. Jesus, for instance, tells us not to worry about what we will eat or what we will wear, that this is what the Gentiles worry about, and we ought to know that we are under God’s care. What our mind hears is something like this- Those people who are more prosperous than I am need to stop worrying about money. When I get as prosperous as they are, I will be pious enough to no longer worry. Those worrying prosperous people really ought to be ashamed of themselves.”
Jesus tells us to seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness and we hear, “Those people who don’t believe, who aren’t in the kingdom, who don’t have the righteousness of Christ, need to get serious about pursuing these things. Thank heavens I already have this covered. Because I have already done this I can now devote my time to something important, worrying about what I will wear and what I will eat.” When the Bible steps on our toes we try to quietly tiptoe away. What we’re supposed to do is face up to our sins. What we’re supposed to do is repent and believe.
One way we might begin to do battle against this weakness is to come to the Bible with a prior commitment to this basic truth- whatever this text or that text is saying, it is likely that it is speaking to me and my sin. Before we decide whether a covenantal paradigm makes more sense or a dispensational paradigm, before we settle the vexing question of who wrote Hebrews or which gospel was written first, before we figure out whether Genesis 1 and 2 are history or poetry or both, we need to come willing and eager to have the mirror of the Word show us our sins. That will happen when we expect it to show us our sin.
The Word of God consists of the words of God. Their meanings tell us what His meaning is. They are little mirrors that build the big mirror. They are also, however, little hammers that together make up the sledge hammer God uses to smash our recalcitrant hearts. Because our hearts are hard we insist on soft words. When alone with our Bibles we soft sell our Bibles, translating our hammers into pillows. When in the pew on Sunday morning we insist on preaching that does not offend, that does not confront, that does not strike, that rests lightly on our stony hearts.
God’s hammer smashes not just the icons of the world around us. It also smashes the idols of my heart. It is hard, heavy, even painful, precisely because of the love of the One who wields it. Because He has promised not only to forgive me for my hard heart, but has promised to soften it. He has promised to beat it into submission. As He pounds my heart He in turn opens my ears. Thus we move from grace to grace, from life to life, from faith to faith.
When our stony hearts are beaten, they do not merely turn into gravel. Instead they turn to soil- soft, welcoming soil. And then the Word no longer comes as a hammer, but comes as seed. The soft ground of our hearts welcomes that word, and soon it bears fruit, multiplying thirty, sixty, even a hundredfold. Soon we find that we have ears to hear and eyes to see and the very mystery of the parables unfold before us. If we would hear, we must be willing to hear. If we would be willing, He must make us willing.
His kingdom is that place where His Word is heard, welcomed and obeyed. That same Word has promised if we will drop everything for the sake of the kingdom, all these things will be added to us. His kingdom is therefore in turn where worry about tomorrow is banished. God’s Word is a hammer. But it is a hammer that speaks blessing to us. May He be pleased to give us ears to hear the blessings that He speaks.
No, there are no gray areas from God’s point of view. Neither should there by gray areas from our point of view. There are, however, issues that are not moral issues. Suppose, for instance, that the dictionary suggests that both “grey” and “gray” are fitting spellings for that color that is somewhere between black and white. If I choose “grey” over “gray” I have not fallen into gray, or grey matter. If I asked you pick a number from one to ten, I can’t imagine what sin I would charge you with should you choose 7, or 2, or in fact any number from one to ten. This does not mean these are what we call grey matters. They are instead what we call adiaphora, matters not touching on morals.
This is important to understand especially when we find ourselves trying to make important decisions. We are so eager to know “God’s will” that we sometimes seek that will where He has not spoken. When a person is trying to decide, “Should I take this job or that? Should I buy this house or that?” my counsel is usually, “Try to discern if either choice is sinful. If neither is, do the spiritual thing, and do what you want.”
That said, we often fall off the other side of the horse by forgetting to apply broader moral principles. That is, we may think, “If the Bible does not say, “Thou shalt not buy the house on 13 Mockingbird Lane” then it must not be a sin, when in fact it could be a sin. Perhaps the house is more than you can afford, and buying it would be poor stewardship. Perhaps it sits right next to a cigar store, and you have in the past allowed tobacco to rule over you, and wisdom suggests you flee temptation. This kind of moral calculus can certainly be subtle. It can lead us into some deep waters. God, of course, always knows what is right. We don’t always know, but we should. Now, suppose I think it is foolish to buy the house, but you think it wise. Suppose we break out our moral calculus, and are not able to agree. But suppose we agree that it is a close call, that it looks from our limited perspective to be “grey.” Such ought to mean that we not get in a horrible tussle over the issue. It does not mean, however, that there is no right answer.
Here’s a real life example- headcoverings. I believe that the Bible teaches that husbands should have their wives cover their heads when we gather together for corporate worship. I believe it for exegetical reasons, and for historical reasons. I think those who don’t so believe are wrong in the issue, wrong in their exegesis, and wrong in their understanding of history. I also think that many of the men who hold this different view are far more godly than I am. I am willing to concede that some things in the Bible are more clear than others, and that the case against headcoverings isn’t completely out in left field. There’s still a right and wrong, and God knows it clearly. But God has made it clear that we ought not to be jumping down each other’s throats on matters that are less clear. How do we know which issues are less clear? There’s the rub. In most disagreements, the real disagreement is here. One helpful hint for my own practice is to look again to church history. If the church has felt that issue x is clear and important, I want to submit to that. If the church has recognized the issue to be less clear, I want to treat it that way.
God is all and only wisdom, the very font of all truth. The Bible is His Word, and is true in all that it teaches, as well as sufficient to guide us into every good work. His Word is perspicuous, that is clear, and understandable. Not all of the Bible, however, is as clear as all the rest. These ground rules inform us, broadly speaking, that the Bible tells us everything we need to know, but that it might not all be right out there in the open. He has not only not left us orphans, He has not left us blind. That said, here are five things that are less clear in the Bible than I might, in the abstract, expect them to be.
1. Proper form of church government. The Bible is crystal clear that women are not to rule in the church, and that we are to submit to the elders over us. See for the latter. Thus the Reformers were correct to list discipline as a mark of the true church. If you are not under the authority of name-able specific elders, you are not part of the visible church and thus do not have a credible profession of faith. Repent, and get under authority. That said, good men have read all the relevant texts and ended up believing that only the local elders of a local church have any authority. That is what we call, historically, congregational church government. John Owen believed this and John Owen is pretty good company. Others believe that a body of elders in a given region oversee the local elders at the local church. This is Presbyterian church government. This is what Knox, Calvin, and all the great Princeton divines affirmed. Then some see oversight of particular congregations being done by bishops, individual men with peculiar callings. Here we find Lattimore, Ridley, and Cranmer. The Bible doesn’t come with a Form of Government.
2. Proper form of a service of worship. The Bible forbids us to forsake the gathering together of the saints. It tells us, in rather great detail, exactly how worship was done in the Old Covenant. In the New Covenant we know that we are not supposed to shed blood anymore. We know, anecdotally, what happened at this meeting and that. But even the most ardent supporter of the most narrow construction of the Regulative Principle of Worship has to confess that we tend to construct our orders of service like Frankenstein constructed his monster, a part here, a part there, cobble it all together and hope lightning strikes.
3. Proper form for preaching the Word. The Bible is clear that there is power to change us in the preaching of the Word. We know we are to preach the Word, and not our own wisdom. We know we are to preach Christ, and Him crucified. That, however, doesn’t tell us everything. I confess that I could preach for days on how to preach a proper sermon, but I would run out of proof-texts the first hour.
4. Proper way to move from single to married. The Bible is clear that marriage is between one man and one woman. They are to leave and cleave. And there are any number of specific instructions on how to be married. Not so much on how to get there in the first place. For such an important decision, it’s kind of scary there isn’t more direction here.
5. More information on the incarnation and the Trinity. The Bible clearly teaches that Jesus is a man. The Bible clearly teaches that Jesus is God. The Bible clearly teaches that the Father is God, the Spirit is God and that God is One. How these things can be, that’s where it gets awfully complicated. For the first five hundred years after the ascension of Christ the church wrestled over these complex issues of doctrine. Athanasius was exiled five different times for championing the orthodox position that eventually prevailed.
This exercise, of course, isn’t designed to register complaints with the Bible. It is perfect. The exercise does, however, instruct me. I am far less than perfect. It reminds me to not shout where God has whispered. It reminds me to seek to align my priorities with His. It reminds me that while the Bible is not less than a rule book for the Christian, it is more than that. It is the very food by which we live. When we find ourselves troubled by the Bible, either by what is in there or what isn’t, we get a clue as to where our troubles lie. We learn submission to authority is more important than the form of the authority. We learn that while form matters, worship is a matter of the heart. We learn to allow preaching to correct us, more than we correct preaching. We learn that being a godly spouse is more powerful than picking the perfect spouse. And we learn that we have eternity to learn more about who God is.
The Bible, like its author, is perfect. Praise that author that He is perfecting me through it.
Ingratitude is virtually universal. Adam and Eve were ungrateful in paradise. The children of Israel were ungrateful after being delivered from slavery and while being led to a land flowing with milk and honey. Paul, in , seeking to describe the reality of the universality of our guilt says, “Neither were they grateful” (1:21) and then explains that what follows is futile thinking.
Is there a way out? Of course. The solution to every problem is to repent and believe the gospel. When, therefore, I find myself struggling with ingratitude the first thing I do is preach the gospel to myself. That gospel preaching comes in the form of three simple questions, the answers to which have the power to reboot my gratitude.
The first question is, “What am I due?” It is a question designed to remind me of the scope and horror of my sin. I daily rebel against the living God. Worse still, I daily dishonor my loving, heavenly Father. What I am due is an eternity of torment. I am due a lake of fire. The only thing God owes me is His wrath. My debt to Him is infinite and my ability to even begin to repay non-existent. Be careful. You may think I’m exaggerating. The truth is that words fail me. I’m worse than I think. He’s more holy than I could ever grasp, and my sin is ugly beyond description.
The second question is, “What have I been given?” The very first part of the answer is, “Not what I am due.” The righteous fury of God is not something I walk under. My sins have been forgiven. They are as far from me as the east is from the west. What have I been given? Peace with the almighty, living God who has every right to destroy me forever. This first causes every other gift to pale in comparison. I have been given the Holy Spirit who dwells within me, comforting me, guiding me, walking with me. I have been given a wife who loves me faithfully. I’ve been given friends and family and food. I’ve been set free from things that a hold on me, and I carry shame no more. Finally, I have been given unshakable promises, which brings us to the third question.
“What have I been promised?” If I told you I was going to give you the winning lottery ticket, and asked you to wait a few days, would you grumble against me? Yet God has promised something infinitely more valuable, that we will be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. And He has never broken a promise. He has promised me an eternity without hardship, pain, suffering, sickness, death. And it is likely less than fifty years away. I have been promised the beatific vision- I will behold the glory of God. The longing of my soul with be utterly satisfied and I will want for nothing save something to grumble about.
My calling is to live in light of both what I have been given and what I have been promised, and to rejoice and give thanks in all things. Praise God my failure here is also covered by Jesus.
Today’s Jesus Changes Everything
N.B. Unlike some lazy-bones podcasters, we will have fresh episodes Thursday and Friday so you won’t have to go without any JCE juicy goodness. If you miss them, no trouble. If you want them, we’ll have them.
