We live in strange times. It used to be said that the only two things we could be certain of were death and taxes. Taxes you can still be pretty sure of, but death has recently become rather more cloudy. With the advent of assorted technological wonders in the field of medicine we can watch as a patient’s heart continues to beat, but whose brain shows no activity. With the advent of widespread organ transplants we are all the more eager to say of the donor that he or she is dead in one sense, while keeping him or her “alive” in another for as long as we can.
Add to this the strange reports we read from those who claim to have “died” but who have “returned.” They claim to have been dead enough to have been embraced by the light, but nevertheless they walk among us. Death has become for us more like dusk than that dark night.
There are, however, limits to this lack of clarity. While dusk seeks to evade the question, is it night or is it day, we do know that midnight is night, and noon is day. And while the comatose, brainwaveless, but still breathing patient may confuse us, we know that the nurses who tend to the patient are alive, and the bodies that have been in cold storage for days down in the morgue are dead. That the bridge across the chasm is shrouded in fog doesn’t change the reality that there are two distinct mountains.
It’s important for us to understand this truth, to not be drawn into the beard fallacy (where one argues that the removal of one, then another, then another whisker will provide no definitive moment from beard to non-beard.) It’s important because central to our faith is this conviction, Jesus died. We are not affirming that the brain wave monitor went blank for a while. We’re not arguing that the Roman medical authorities broke their own rules and continued administering CPR for over half an hour. Jesus was all the way dead, midnight dead.
It may be so that we would know that the God ordained the course of this time. God ordained that the Messiah should hang from a tree before anyone had ever heard of crucifixion. We now know what crucifixion does to a person, the slow suffocation that makes the nails seem like kid’s play. God ordained that Jesus would be pierced on His side. We see there the water and the blood flowing out, a sign of a burst heart, both literally and figuratively. And then three days in the ground.
That is the one that has always puzzled me. God didn’t need three days to put Jesus back together again, any more than He needed six days to make the universe and all that is in it. It doesn’t take three days for God to muster the strength for such a miracle. But it might take three days to prove that the resurrection was a miracle, to make us see that this death was not just dusk, but midnight dark.
Paul tells us in “If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins” (I Corinthians 15: 17). If there is no resurrection, our faith is vanity. And if there is no death, there can be no resurrection. The death of Christ, and the resurrection of Christ are inescapably bound together. You cannot have one without the other, and you have no Christianity without both.
Our faith is a historical faith, grounded not in our own efforts, not in the mystical powers of an object-less faith, but in historical events. We have peace with God because of what we believe about events that happened on a particular hill, and in a particular tomb outside Jerusalem two thousand years ago.
We affirm first, contra the ancient docetists and their modern heirs, that Jesus was born a man. To die one must first be alive. Jesus was no ghost, no phantom who only appeared as a man. Second we affirm that this Jesus lived not only in complete obedience to the law of God, but that He did so in history and in full view of His enemies who could lay no charge against Him.
Next we affirm that this Jesus wrought miracles in particular places, and for historical people. The water was truly water, and it became truly wine. Jesus even brought life from death, most dramatically in the life of Lazarus, dead four days, decomposing, and not merely flat-lined for a moment. And then He, who had the power of life in Him, died, laying down His life for the sheep. He did not swoon. He did not fall into a coma. He died. There was only darkness.
He did not, however, stay dead. Three days later this same Jesus, with His body now glorified, one that was in one sense continuous with His old body, but in another very different, threw off the bonds of death, emerging as the first fruit of the new creation. It was not that hope was raised, as unbelieving liberal wolves proclaim each Resurrection Sunday. It was not some sort of spirit body as gnostics both ancient and modern have claimed. As Thomas discovered, it was an altogether human body, once dead, but now alive.
These historical truths also have theological meaning. The life He lived He lived vicariously for His elect. He obeyed so that we might have His righteousness. And He died for our sins, taking upon Himself the wrath of the Father for us. He was raised in vindication, to prove His own innocence, and to begin the new creation, to ascend on high to put everything under His feet.
When that work is complete, this same Jesus, with this same glorified body, will return to consummate His kingdom. The theological meaning not only does not undo the historical reality, but requires the historical reality to even have meaning. This is the light of resurrection morning, a light so brilliant as to be unmistakable.
A Jesus who did not die, a Jesus who was not raised, such is a Jesus that cannot save. Such is a Jesus that is foreign to the inerrant Word of God. To negotiate with these truths is to negotiate with our own souls, with our own eternity. And such is neither right, nor safe. Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. Here we stand. We can do no other.
We continue our weekly Monday night Bible study. We begin at 7:00. Local guests are invited for dinner at 6:15.
We air the study on Facebook Live (RC-Lisa Sproul). Within a day or two we post the video of the study right here for those who would like to watch on their own schedule.
We’d love to have you with us, in person if possible. Invite your friends. Our study considers God’s call that we be as children. Tonight- The Marks of Childhood
The evangelical position on the Bible, that it is inspired, inerrant, and infallible, true in all that it teaches is true, from top to bottom. Our orthodoxy (right doctrine) on the Bible is orthodox. It is our orthopraxy (right practice) where we fail. Here then are several ways we in this camp tend to practice wrongly what we rightly confess.
First, we tend to believe the whole Bible is not for us. The great bulk of evangelicals are haunted by the spirit of Marcion. Marcion was an ancient heretic who wanted to excise from the Bible the mean and nasty God of the Old Testament. We, thankfully, do not go that far. We simply ignore the Old Testament, seeing it as a helpful collection of religious stories that, when it embarrasses us, can be safely swept away.
Second, we tend to see the Bible as a religious book from which we should glean our religious convictions. We miss that the Bible gives us true history. We might stand firm on Adam and Eve, on the flood (or we might not) but we miss that Adam and Eve were real human beings, just like you and me. That Abraham woke up grumpy some mornings, and might have had bad breath. We look at the people in the Bible as characters in a story that matters to us, rather than our ancestors, our actual family.
Third, we tend to see the law of God as simply sage counsel on how to be more nice to people. “Be nice” is the cardinal law to the evangelical. Our sermons thus reduce down to- “Here’s a story from the Bible. Here’s a story I found in a sermon illustration book. Here’s your application- don’t be the mean person, be the nice person.” Now I’m all in favor of being nice, when we’re supposed to be nice. But God’s law is so much broader, richer, even so much more nuanced than “Be nice.”
Fourth, we tend to see the Bible as a map to heaven. The Bible most assuredly tells us how to have peace with God. We are to repent of our sins and trust in the finished work of Christ on our behalf. It’s a good thing, a vital thing to grasp that He died for us, our sins imputed to Him on Calvary, and that He lived for us, His righteousness imputed to us. But we are not the center of the story. He is.
The Bible is the story of Jesus Christ, the second Adam, bringing all things under subjection, and must be understood that way. The Bible is not just a mine from which we pull out proof texts for our systematic theologies. It is the true story of the victory of our King.
Finally, we tend to see the Bible as an aid to our piety. It is that, to be certain. But it is not a devotional. It is that by which we, His bride, are washed and purified. It is the message from the Maker of heaven and earth. It is not just to be affirmed but cherished, fed upon, breathed in, and lived out. May He give us the grace to do so.
Last things last, that’s what I used to say. There’s plenty of difficult theological issues for us to wade through without having to worry about the end times. We all agree, after all, that in the end our side wins. Whether Jesus comes to find His world a horrible cesspool that needs to be cleaned up, or to find a glorious reflection of His successful bride, or somewhere in the middle, He does come back and make all things right. I was indifferent about how He would return.
But two things kept nagging at me. The Bible talks about the return of Christ. It talks about the full consummation of history. And one thing I didn’t want to happen when Jesus comes back was this — to have Him be displeased with me because I tossed aside a portion of His Word cavalierly.
The second problem was this, a fundamental principle of progress. One cannot know which way to go unless one knows where one is supposed to go. If you’re going nowhere, any direction will do. But if you want to get somewhere, you have to know where.
A good friend once explained that years ago he had joined an association of local evangelical pastors that had as its goal educating their congregations about various political candidates. He explained that in the providence of God, this little group of pastors came to be rather influential in local politics. Candidates would actually seek them out to curry their favor. As a result, the elections began to swing strongly in favor of more conservative candidates.
Everything was going well. And that, according to the organization’s founder, was a problem. He announced that he was shutting the organization down immediately, as an act of repentance. What was he repenting of? Seeking to delay the return of Jesus. To labor for justice was, in the mind of this pastor, to go in the wrong direction. His understanding of the end times taught him that the quicker things got worse, the sooner Jesus would return.
What are we to be doing? How are we to prepare for the return of Jesus? Is our calling to sit and wait, to drag as many lost souls as we can onto the lifeboat? Are we supposed to merely occupy until He returns, or are we called to be more than conquerors? Or should we be like I was, utterly indifferent?
Paul writes to Titus that believers are to be “waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave Himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for Himself a people for His own possession who are zealous for good works” (2:13–14). That’s not nothing. Nor indifference. We are called here to look for the blessed hope, to be not only at peace but looking joyfully forward in the midst of our own cultural collapse, knowing He will return. Yet we are also to purify ourselves, to be a people zealous for good works.
As we look with hope, our first task is tending our own garden. We should be preparing for the return of the Groom more than peeking down the hallway to see if He is coming. Even as we face frustration in our sanctification, we still have peace because He is the one working in us, not just as individuals, but as a people. And our common purity is shown forth in zeal for good works. In this context we go forth as conquerors.
Our understanding of the last things is dependent upon our understanding of the firstborn of the new creation. As we understand Jesus went up in the shekinah glory cloud, and will return again in it, went to heaven not to wait, but to rule, we labor here as His faithful servants, mighty warriors. When we understand that He will wipe away every tear, our tears would begin to dry themselves (if we only would believe it). If we would but believe that He has already overcome the world, we would be of good cheer now.
We need not invest all our energy trying to chart the day and the hour. Nor as if this were our last day, eschewing the godly investments in a sure tomorrow. We need to seek the kingdom of God and His righteousness. That is first, and that is last — because it begins in Christ, the firstfruits of the new creation, the true Alpha male, and ends in Christ, to whom and for whom and through whom are all things, the true Omega man.
Privacy has long been an escalating battle. For every idea and technology to hide ourselves we come up with an idea and technology that reveals ourselves. VPNs, pseudonyms, combat ip addresses and facial recognition software. All of which is by and large, comical.
The truth is that there is a precise overlap between the One whom we alone need to fear and the One who knows all things. No technology can cloud His eyes or veil our thoughts, words and deeds. And a day is coming when everyone will witness the big reveal. As we will witness the big reveal of everyone else.
At the end of time we can be assured of two things. First, every sin ever committed will have its perfect, corresponding judgment. Second, every sin ever committed will be known by all. The good news for those who are in Christ is that because every sin of ours has already received its just judgment on the cross, every revelation of our sins is cause for rejoicing over His grace toward us.
In the face of God’s omniscience, privacy becomes utterly unattainable. He sees us when we’re sleeping. He knows when we’re awake. In light of His grace, however, privacy from Him becomes utterly undesirable. When the fear of His judgment is gone, we enter into the comfort of His presence. When David writes:
O Lord, You have searched me and known me.
You know my sitting down and my rising up;
You understand my thought afar off.
You comprehend my path and my lying down,
And are acquainted with all my ways.
For there is not a word on my tongue,
But behold, O Lord, You know it altogether.
You have hedged me behind and before,
And laid Your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
It is high, I cannot attain it.
Where can I go from Your Spirit?
Or where can I flee from Your presence?
If I ascend into heaven, You are there;
If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.
If I take the wings of the morning,
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there Your hand shall lead me,
And Your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall fall on me,”
Even the night shall be light about me;
Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You,
But the night shines as the day;
The darkness and the light are both alike to You. (Psalm 139: 1-12)
he is not feeling exposed but covered. God’s gaze is not a threat but a promise.
When we remember that we live all our lives coram Deo, before the face of God, we do have a restraint on our sins. I’m not suggesting we should not use His presence as an aid to our obedience. But better still is when we remember He is with us in a posture of infinite love, we want to do well.
He knows us fully. Better than our critics. More clearly than the devil himself. Far more than we know ourselves. And He declares us righteous. He calls us His own. May we always feel like He is watching us. Because He is. And not from a distance.
Gremlins have been exiled. Lisa on the mic. All your favorite goodies from the podcast. It’s like pumpkin spice day at Starbucks.
There is a steep penalty to pay for our steeply declining level of discourse. As a culture we have grown radically more emotive and radically less thoughtful. We communicate in 280 characters, through memes, with the broad brushed strokes of the hurried and the harried. Nobody has time to listen. Check that, nobody takes the time to listen. We disparage nuance and then wonder why everything feels as well formed as a boulder.
Here are just a few examples I’ve had to live through in the past few weeks. I wrote, “It’s possible that X.” I got angry pushback saying, “How dare you say X?!” I didn’t dare. I didn’t say X. I said X was possible. If, when I say “It’s possible that X” I should expect people to hear me say “X” then communication is virtually impossible. I know it’s possible for me to miss-speak, miss-write, miscommunicate. But I also know it’s possible for me to miss-listen, miss-read, miscommunicate.
Second, I wrote, “X is like Y in that both demonstrate Z.” I got angry pushback saying, “How dare you say X and Y are the same.” I didn’t dare. I didn’t say X and Y are the same. I said that have this in common- they both demonstrate Z. To draw a parallel, to make use of analogy is not to equate two differing things. I’m sorry I have to say that. That is, it saddens me that people don’t know this. That, however, is where we are. We think words, if they have any shape at all, are hopelessly muddy and amorphous, that they can be shaped into anything at all.
I’m perfectly willing to concede that words are not as laser focused and precise as numbers. But they do have meaning. Think I’m wrong? If they don’t, a. you can’t even know what it is you’re disagreeing with and b. you can’t even communicate your disagreement. We’ve all heard the old saw, when hearing a response to an appeal to the Bible, “Well, you can make the Bible say anything you want it to.” No, you can’t. You can misunderstand the Bible in an infinite number of ways. You can only understand it rightly in one.
There are rules for how we understand words. These rules involve definitions and grammar. That schools no longer teach these things, either because they’re too boring and difficult or because such is too western and “white” doesn’t make it not so. Grammar doesn’t go away when you ignore it. Instead it turns conversation into the wild, wild west.
Postmodernism holds that all language is about wielding power. There is, however, no greater power than imposing what we want to hear over what was actually said. If I can make you mean whatever I wish I can make you say whatever I wish, and in turn, blame you for what I wished you to mean. And there’s not a thing you can do, or say about it. In our day we must not only guard our tongues but our ears.
We continue our weekly Monday night Bible study. We begin at 7:00, but local guests are invited to come for dinner too, at 6:15.
We air the study on Facebook Live (RC-Lisa Sproul). Within a day or two we post the video of the study right here for those who would like to watch on their own schedule.
We’d love to have you with us, in person if possible. We’d love for you to invite your friends. Our study considers the attributes of God, unpacking just a hint of His ineffable glory. Tonight- God Never Changes
All believers know that the Bible is God’s Word, that it is true in all that it teaches. We know we’re supposed to not only read it, but to be read by it. We’re to study it and to be studied by it. If there’s one thing it reveals about us it’s that we don’t do well as students of it.
What to do? I’d encourage the cultivating of three qualities we don’t necessarily connect to being good students, but that can make all the difference in the world. We begin with curiosity. Duty is less a motivator than delight is. Nobody has to be told to eat their ice cream. The Bible is that book which reveals to us the very grace and glory of God. A childlike wonder is what we are called to.
How many of us, at one time or another, actually feared that heaven might be boring? All that time. No hardships to overcome. A single encounter with the glory of God should cure such silliness. And a deep study of His Word is a constant encounter with that glory. When we look at the Bible as a history of what other people believed it will not likely grip us. When we see it for what it is, the revelation not just from, but the revelation of the Living God, we are drawn in.
Second, humility. We are prone to thinking we’re doing just fine. We may miss the mark by a bit, but it’s not like we’re Hitler. Except that it is like we’re Hitler. As one wise theologian used to say, if you put Hitler on one side of a spectrum and Jesus on the other, then place each of us on the same spectrum, we’d be holding hands with Hitler and needing the Hubble telescope to get a glimpse of Jesus. The Bible is that mirror that reveals to us what we are. But why would anyone want that?
If we start with humility, if we come to God’s Word already knowing our dependence on His grace, then every deeper glimpse of the stain of sin in us is just another cause for celebrating what He has done for us. If we start with pride, the Bible will pummel us instead. Humility reminds us not only that we’re no good, but that the Bible equips us for every good work, that it is profitable for correction.
Finally, courage. Courage is typically something we think we need when facing hardship, when entering into battle. What use is it when we are sitting down with Bible in hand? It’s useful in that context because we are facing hardship, entering into battle. The Bible is sharper than a two-edged sword, and it not only goes before us into battle with the world but comes toward us in our battle with our flesh. Are we willing to face our failures, to confront our consciences, to own our errors?
Curiosity, humility, courage. These three prepare us for the plow cutting into our souls, That the Word might be planted, that Spirit might bear in us an abundance of fruit for the glory of the Gardner.
Tonight, 7:00 eastern, we conclude our Bible study on the character of God, considering the glorious truth that He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. Please plan to join us in person or on Facebook Live (RC-Lisa Sproul). For more on this theme, check here.
