I I Samuel 15 we read that God regretted making Saul king over Israel.This particular text is just one of several in the Bible wherein we see God describing regret, or remorse, where we see God appear to change His mind. In other portions of Scripture, see for instance , God affirms what seems more plausible to us, that because God is God, He never regrets, repents, or changes His mind. To understand how this can be we must do our best to come to grips with the different ways that God interacts with His creation.
Consier the calling of Daniel in light of the invasion of the Babylonian army. We know God sent that army to punish Judah, but Daniel did well to fight against them. Why would God call Daniel to fight an enemy God Himself sent? This reveals the important distinction between God’s prescriptive or revealed will and His decretive or hidden will. The former refers to His law, what He commands of us. The latter refers to His sovereign, efficacious will by which He brings all things to pass. God’s law, for instance, forbids bearing of false witness. Yet, in Peter’s sermon at Pentecost he affirms that God had determined from before all time that Jesus would be unjustly delivered to the Roman authorities, not only that false witness would be born, but that it would be born against the Son.
We have a similar situation here. Understand that history is God’s story. God is the author of all of history, and touching on His sovereignty, brings all things to pass. His decretive will is always done. But just as Shakespeare not only wrote his plays but acted in them, so God is an actor in His own story. God, for instance, decreed before all time, that He would give you new life, a new heart, the gift of faith. But God the actor, in space and time, actually did this.
With respect to Saul, and the flood, and other instances where God is described as having changed His mind, we have God the author deciding that God the actor would change course. Look at it this way. God the author of history, knew from before all time that Saul would fail. He knew from before all time that He would reject the kingship of Saul. And He knew that He would, as an actor, first choose Saul, and then later, again as an actor, reject Saul. God the actor changed direction, as God the writer had determined from before all time.
Of course the God who writes history and the God who acts in history is one and the same God. We’re just looking at the story from different perspectives. We can move forward with confidence that God’s promises are always yea and amen. We can trust all that He has told us. And we can rejoice that He is not just an aloof writer of the story, but is actively involved in the story, in our stories and in our lives each and every day. The God we worship is sovereign over all things. And He acts in space and time.
If you’re like me, though you are loathe to admit it, you find Hebrew poetry less than satisfying. While sophisticates know better, most us like a poem to rhyme. Hebrew poetry does not when translated, nor even in the original, rhyme words. Instead it rhymes ideas. David, in Psalm 22 laments that “O my God, I cry in the daytime but You do not hear; and in the night season, and am not silent” (verse 2). Twice David notes that he cries out to God, first in the day, and then at night. This is what passes for rhyming.
Rhyming, however, isn’t the be all and end all of good poetry. Good poetry, in any era, in any language, is replete with powerful images, just like this one, “But You are holy, enthroned in the praises of Israel” (verse 3). How’s that for an image, that God sits on a throne built not of ivory or gold, but of the praises of His people? It touched me this morning I believe, because I have seen this.
I’ve seen it when my precious wife and I take time morning and evening to open God’s Word, and then open our hearts before Him in prayer. I’ve seen it when we are sitting around the table with our boys trying to unpack the mysteries of the book of Revelation. I’ve seen it even in cyberspace as God’s people sing together from different homes, all while being called together to the true Mount Zion. I’ve seen it when we are blessed to gather together in an earthly building and our hosannas are raised.
Could it be though, not so much that I believe it because I see it, but that, by His grace, I see it because I believe it? When we come to God’s poetry our first inclination, because we are modernists at heart, is to turn it into prose, and so, we diminish it. That God is enthroned in the praises of His people becomes not something we are mesmerized by. Instead we turn it into, at best, “God likes it when we praise Him” and at worst, “We’re supposed to praise God.” When we take His poetry and diminish it we push Him farther away. When we enter into His poetry, we enter into Him. And that is ever and always a blessing too deep to be measured, too ethereal to be packaged, too powerful to be denied.
God sits enthroned on our praises. Or, to rhyme images, when we praise Him together, oil pours down on Aaron’s beard. We live in a wretched world, one that yet groans under the weight of sin. We have broken relationships. We have roots of bitterness choking out the fruit of the Spirit. We have distractions and burdens. But God in His grace, from time to time gives us glimpses beyond, tastes of eternity. Mark these moments well. Give thanks to the Giver of these good gifts. And give thanks to the gifts as well.
Thesis 24- We must elect elders based on biblical criteria rather than cultural criteria.
Ideas, Richard Weaver sagely reminded us, have consequences. They are neither discreet nor inert. We ought not to be surprised when our brilliant new insights beget sundry ripples that we myopically didn’t plan on. Nor should we be surprised that there is nothing new under the sun, that our new insights are often old folly, and the ripples have all lapped up on the shore before, often undermining our foundations.
Consider for a moment the church growth movement. Did Bill Hybels invent the idea that we ought to market the church, rather than proclaim the gospel? Would not Simon the Sorcerer fit in this same mold? How about the believers to whom James wrote, warning them against putting the rich and powerful into seats of honor? These two issues intersect in how too many of us choose our elders. When we adopt a business model for the church, it ought not surprise us that we adopt a business model for choosing elders. And would not that model suggest something like this- if the church is a business, should we not have men who are successful in business running things? In many of our churches we do just that. Our elder boards look more like the local chamber of commerce than living examples of the qualifications listed in I Timothy 3.
There we are told that elders should be blameless, the husband of one wife, temperate, sober-minded, of good behavior, hospitable, able to teach; not given to wine, not violent, not greedy for money, but gentle, not quarrelsome, not covetous, one who rules his own house well. Notice that nothing is said about being successful in business. Notice as well that not a word is said about being a person who delights to argue obtuse theological issues, or who has an advanced degree. This is the biblical model, not a cultural one.
We elect elders based on what we value. Because we are a part of the broader culture, success in business is high on our list. Because we are a part of a more narrow subculture, wherein spiritual maturity is measured by the number of volumes in our libraries, being up to date on the latest theological controversies is likewise high on our list. What we ought to value is godliness. What we ought to value is men who rule their own houses well. What we ought to value is spiritual maturity, which cannot be discerned by the size of ones bank book, nor the size of ones bookshelves. The business of ruling over the church is not business, but shepherding the flock, guarding the very family of God.
Reformation will come only when we reform our thinking, no longer having it conformed to the patterns of this world. When we cease looking for new insights, and go back to ancient wisdom, we can be confident that there too we will see ripples. These ripples, however, will make known the glory of our King. May God be pleased to renew our minds, and to give us shepherds more faithful than we deserve.
It is a common thing for Christians to side with non-Christians against other Christians. The reason for this is that we are sinners, Christians, non-Christians and the other Christians. That is, Christian A listens with a sympathetic ear while non-Christian B recounts how he was terribly mistreated by Christians C. Christian A, you understand, could be sympathetic because he rightly feels bad about the mistreatment non-Christian B received. Or, Christian A could be sympathetic simply because he wants non-Christian B to like him, and Christians C did nothing wrong at all. Sin, blame shifting and a craven hunger for approval are as commonplace as ABC.
The point is that non-Christians get hostile against the church for all manner of illegitimate reasons. They accuse Christians of things they are not guilty of. They themselves feel guilty for things they are guilty of, but prefer to blame the Christians. Non-Christians also get hostile against the church for all manner of legitimate reasons. The church, after all, if full of sinners. Sinners sin. To assume that only one of these things could be true is to assume that only one group of people are capable of sin.
That said, I suspect the best argument the non-Christian has against the Christian isn’t that the Christian is too judgmental toward others, but that we are insufficiently judgmental toward ourselves. People, as a general rule, are reasonably comfortable having their sins pointed out, so long as we acknowledge the full depth and scope of our own sin. “You and I are miserable sinners” goes down much more easily than “You are a miserable sinner. I am good.” Better still, “You and I are miserable sinners” is true and “I am good” is not.
There is, however, yet another option. Sometimes I suspect that non-Christians have nothing but contempt for the church because we are so weak. Our hunger for their approval may just bring down on us their disapproval. No one admires a sniveler. When we insist that we never say a word that might offend them we demonstrate to them that we fear them. They may rant and rail against us for the moral stances we take, but at the end of the day, caving just makes it worse. Worse still, it offends the One we ought to be seeking to please.
The solution? What if we were altogether eager to affirm both the sins of the non-Christians and the sins of the Christians, all while being careful to define sin as God does? What if we honestly and sincerely responded to that old complaint from outside our walls, “The church is full of hypocrites!” with “No, not true. It’s not full. There’s always room for one more.” What if, instead of trying to decide whether to stand with the Christians or the non-Christians we determined to kneel before Christ? What if we humbled ourselves not before them, but before Him? What if the church were that place where we competed to see who could be the most open, the most honest about our own failures, and then the most open and most honest about His provision? There is no good plan, for those inside the church or those outside, where we don’t talk about sin. Never has been and never will be.
