Because we are the heirs of the moderns, metaphors tend to slip right by us. To be sure, we know how to recognize a metaphor. Jesus tells us that He is the door, and we puzzle for a moment trying to imagine Him with hinges. When it doesn’t add up, we conclude, “Must be a metaphor” and happily move on. We think the object of the game is to recognize the metaphor, rather than to enter into it. Paul tells us, for instance, that we are the body of Christ. Recognizing that this isn’t literally the case, we pat Paul on the head for the clever metaphor, and again, move on. We don’t stop to ask what the metaphor is seeking to tell us, what it means, for instance, that the church is the body of Christ.
We note that we, as the body of Christ certainly need to get along with each other. It doesn’t make sense for eyes and ears to be at war with each other. What we miss, however, is that it is the church by which the reality that Christ is with us always is made manifest, or visible. We miss our calling.
Years ago I was preaching through the 10 Commandments. We came to the seventh commandment, the one calling us to not commit adultery. I highlighted all the usual fallout that seems to follow adultery around. I noted the destruction of families, the broken hearts and disrupted lives of little children. I spoke on the shame it brings to the church. But I argued that the greatest problem with breaking the seventh commandment is how it breaks the third commandment. A philandering husband is not just blowing up his own family, but is lying to the whole world about who Jesus is. When Paul draws the analogy between husbands and Jesus, wives and the church in Ephesians 5, he isn’t merely saying what husbands are supposed to be like. Instead he argues that the connection is always there. Unfaithful husbands who claim the name of Christ are “showing” Jesus to be unfaithful.
The same is true more broadly speaking of the church. Just as the wife reflects the glory of her husband (I Corinthians 11) so we the church and the Christians therein are called to show forth the glory of our Husband, Jesus. We’re supposed to show each other and the watching world what and who He is. We are His apostles, His sent ones. This does not mean that we must by all means seek to put our best face forward, according to the watching world. It does mean, however, that we must always seek to show forth His glory. This will be to those who are His a pleasing aroma. To those who are moving from death to death, it will be a stench, and a rock of offense. We must not only do what Jesus would do, but must strive to be what Jesus is.
We are His body, His visible presence in the very world over which He rules. That is a tremendous responsibility, as daunting as it is exciting.
Tonight we continue our look at the monumental, towering book of Romans. All are welcome to our home at 7 est, or you may join us for dinner at 6:15. We will also stream the study at Facebook, RC-Lisa Sproul. We hope you’ll join us.
Certainly. There is one way this is so, and one in which it is not. As per always, it helps if we define our terms. It is not uncommon for apologists for this particular perversion to argue that it is not unnatural since we witness similar behavior among certain animals in the wild. This is the sense in which it is not unnatural, when we define “natural” as “that which we can see in the creation.”
Such, however, has never been what we mean by “natural.” Rather natural in this kind of context refers to the nature of the thing. The nature of a man and the nature of a woman isn’t something we find simply by studying the behavior of bucks and does. You’ll never learn whether it is right or wrong to be racist by studying the habits of red ants and black ants.
“Natural,” in the context of ethics alludes to the nature of thing being considered. While a toaster makes heat, and while I person might want to warm his bathwater, it would be foolish to drop the toaster in the tub. It is against the nature of a toaster to heat water. It doesn’t matter whether the bathtub is in a high rise in Tokyo or in the middle of the Grand Canyon. In civilization or in nature, it is unnatural.
Men are designed, it is their nature, to be with women. Women, in turn are designed to be with men. This is how God made the first man and the first woman. This is why He established marriage the way He did. This is why He designed procreation the way He did. This is why He Himself says,
“For this reason God gave them up to vile passions. For even their women exchanged the natural use for what is against nature. Likewise also the men, leaving the natural use of the woman, burned in their lust for one another, men with men committing what is shameful, and receiving in themselves the penalty of their error which was due” (Rom. 1: 26-27).
One could argue that there is yet another way that homosexuality is “natural.” It is consistent with our fallen natures. There is a connection between this sin and our rebellion against the living God. When a man desires a woman not his wife, it is sinful, but consistent with the God given nature of man. God made men to desire women. When a man desires a man, it is not only sinful but an affront to God’s design. It is shaking one’s fist at God Himself.
There was a time not long ago that most everyone knew these truths, especially within the church. For decades now, however, the broader culture has been at war with nature, with God’s design, and with biblical thinking about these things. More is coming, not just more perverse behaviors but more cultural pressure on believers to embrace the twisted thinking of unbelievers. We would be wise to settle these matters firmly in preparation for the ongoing onslaught. Let God be true, and every man a liar.
When Alice found herself at a crossroads in Wonderland, she looked about for help. There in a tree nearby was a smile. Just a smile. Soon though, the full body of the Cheshire Cat appeared. Alice asked the cat which way she should go. The cat asked her where she was headed. Alice explained to him that she had no particular destination, and then the cat spoke words of wisdom—”Then it doesn’t matter.”
If we are going nowhere we cannot go wrong. You can only get lost if you have a destination. Which is why eschatology matters. Rightly understood, eschatology, the study of the last things, is the study of where we are headed.
Trouble is, more often than not, we find ourselves going down a dead-end road because we’ve gotten distracted by mileposts along the way. We end up arguing about where we are or where we almost are, and we utterly lose sight of the real end of the story.
The Bible speaks of a millennium. It does so in the midst of a profoundly difficult bit of inerrant literature—John’s Apocalypse, the book of Revelation. And all that the Bible teaches is understandable. God doesn’t waste His time or ours telling us about things we can’t possibly understand. So there is a sound view on the millennium that is biblical, knowable, and valuable. We should seek to affirm and grasp that view.
The millennium, however, is not the end, in either sense of the word. It is not the reason for all things; neither is it the last of all things. It should not, therefore, deeply divide and separate us.
Some views assert that we are in the midst of the millennium, that this language refers to the time between the ascension of Christ and His return. Some views affirm that the world will grow progressively worse, and then Jesus will return to rule for a thousand years. Still others affirm that the world will grow increasingly faithful to God’s Word, that we will enjoy a thousand-year golden age before Jesus returns. That’s rather a lot of differences between millennial views.
But do you notice what one thing each of these views shares? Whatever position one might take, in the end we all agree on one thing: Jesus wins. When history is complete, every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. When history is complete, all His enemies will have been made into His footstool. When history is complete, there will be no more tears, no more sickness, no more death. When history ends, that which we now are called to seek, the kingdom of God, will be consummated. What we seek will have been found in all its glory, in all its fullness.
There is, however, one more step before the end, one part of the story we are wont to miss out on. The real end, the true end, is not found in the final chapters of Revelation but in Paul’s first letter to the church at Corinth, chapter 15. There we read, “Then comes the end, when he delivers the kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power” (v. 24). The end is when the Son, after bringing all things under subjection, delivers the kingdom to His Father. Then the last Adam, having completed the calling given to the first Adam, that the earth would be filled and subdued, will hand back to His Father the creation that had been put under our stewardship.
How can we miss that? How has our story left out this great climax? The Son returns the kingdom to the Father. We must come to grasp this, as it is precisely this glorious truth that animates our labors here and now. The kingdom that we seek first is this same kingdom that the Son returns to the Father. Our labors in the here and now, insofar as they reflect and flow out of our commitment to the reign of Christ, no matter what happens between now and the end, will survive. Our work matters into eternity. Or, as one wise theologian is apt to describe it, right now counts forever.
Our efforts, our labors in raising our children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, in calling out the elect from the four corners of the earth, of taking God’s dust and molding and shaping it into widgets, this is not just pursuing the kingdom of God but manifesting it. It is neither what we do while we wait for the end, nor what we do to bring to pass our favorite millennial view. Rather it is what we do to move the story to the end of the end, the Son returning the kingdom to the Father.
And that, of course, is also the beginning of the beginning. From there we will enjoy in the true and eternal Mount Zion—in the New Jerusalem—the very presence of the living God. We will take in the beatific vision, beholding His glory. We know the end, both the purpose and the goal of the story—Jesus wins, to the glory of the Father. And by His grace, He takes us with Him. That’s our reason for living, and our hope in dying.
Sigh. I’ve just learned that another old friend has chosen to swim the Tiber. “Swim the Tiber” is a humorous euphemism for the deadly practice of leaving the Christian faith behind and embracing Roman Catholicism. As tragic as it is, this is by no means the first time this has happened. I, in fact, seem to attract future Tiber swimmers like flies. When I was in high school I was discipled by a fire-breathing Calvinist who had just graduated from Gordon-Conwell Seminary, where my father had once taught. His name is Gerry Matatics, who went on to become a leading apologist for Rome at Catholic Answers. That only ended when Gerry swam the Tiber’s Tiber and became a pre-Vatican II sedevacantist. These are those who, like Mel Gibson, reject all popes since Vatican II, while still claiming to be a part of the one true church.
In college I was discipled by another young Gordon-Conwell grad who was likewise a fire-breathing Calvinist. Until he swam the Tiber and became the most well-known of all ex-Protestant Catholic apologists, Scott Haun. While teaching at Grove City College Scott gathered a cadre of ten disciples, of which I was one. Eight of them, my friends, likewise went to Rome.
This latest friend to swim the Tiber has spent a lifetime doing good apologetic work, mainly through the medium of film. From watching those videos, to appearing in those videos, to becoming friends I always found the man to be both intelligent and thoughtful. So I’m sad once again. I’m not, however, in the least bit moved into a place of doubt about Rome. I understand some of the appeal, that while they have a many internal disagreements as Protestants, they keep them internal. I get the appeal of ancient history and ancient liturgy. I get the appeal of the relative intellectual vigor. My own shelves are weighed down with Chesterton, Kreeft, and E. Michael Jones. The trouble is the story just doesn’t add up.
Consider today Rome’s appeal to its own authority. Their apologists love to cluck over the thousands of Protestant denominations, arguing that sola Scriptura will always devolve into a kind of theological relativism. They, they boldly claim, have authority. Indeed they claim they have more authority than the Bible. It was, in their reasoning, though contra to the actual language of the ancient creeds, the church who created the canon in the first place. The Bible, according to Rome, can’t trump Rome because, according to Rome, Rome made the Bible.
Where, you ought at this point, to be asking, did Rome get this authority? And Rome’s apologists will happily take you to Jesus’ response to Peter at Caesarea Philippi, “Thou art Petros and on this rock I will build My church” (Matt. 16:18). Or, I Timothy 3: 14-15 where the church is called the pillar and ground of the church. All of which begs this simple question- how do we know these texts belong in the canon? The very same Rome that claims the Bible derives its authority from Rome claims the Bible gives its authority to Rome. They are, as the saying goes, hoisted on their own petard.
Rome is neither sweet, nor home. She has all the authority of any other self-appointed dictator. The irony is we don’t even need the Bible to know Rome is false. Any institution that claims to be above the Bible has immediately and irredeemably disqualified itself. The Tiber is shark infested water, and on the other side is only death and destruction.
Sorry friends but I am unable to upload today’s this week’s podcast due to technical problems beyond my ken.I will keep trying as opportunity allows.
It is just about the time that we begin to mock our fathers that we find ourselves slipping on the banana peels they have left behind. Consider our fathers’ failure to contextualize in missions. Generations ago great heroes went forth carrying the good news of Jesus Christ to unreached people. That’s good. They also, at least we are told, carried with them deep into untamed interiors, musical organs. Because, you know, these new converts had to, in order to be Christian, sing western music with western instruments. Like Christians do.
I’m afraid we haven’t quite gotten past this. We may not send out organs, but we do send out our own traditions, our own way of doing things, and perhaps too often, our own people. I’m not, of course, opposed to going. That’s a good thing. But when we go we go to grow and encourage the church of Jesus Christ. Which means we go to grow and encourage the local believers. Which means we encourage them to follow Jesus, not follow us.
We know how churches operate. A man is gifted and called to serve as its pastor. He sets up his shop, and works to persuade consumers to shop at his store. As he succeeds the church grows and the pastor then begins to think in terms of franchising himself. More church plants. Fancy letterhead and a whiz-bang website. When we go overseas, however, we find something different. We find pockets of believers, oftentimes in hiding. We find them struggling to put food on their tables. And we find them well served by pastors with whom they share a common life.
Now I believe it is a good and fitting thing to pay a pastor (I Timothy 5:17). But I think we just might be guilty of cultural imperialism if we determine this is necessary, or even helpful in all circumstances. Worse we do the same thing with any number of western traditions that have even less biblical support. We send off missionaries to train locals on how to host a youth group. We raise money to build church buildings. Or we establish seminaries to make the local pastors as petty and confused as we are. All because this is how we do it here.
It ought to tell us something about how we have done things here that now third- world, poverty stricken countries are sending missionaries to us. They are concerned for the weakness of our churches. They do not come with programs, but with the gospel. They do not come to remake our churches or cultures in their image. They come to win the lost. Too often when we go overseas we see ourselves as the savior. Instead when we go overseas we should go remembering, and therefore preaching, our need for a Savior.
He is the great missionary. He came to a desperately weak and wicked people carrying not an organ, but a cross. And He calls us to pick up our cross and follow Him. Perhaps we would do well to become the pupils rather than the teachers of our brothers around the world who know the difference between a cross and an organ.
Of course not. Some years ago I talked with a friend who was concerned that he was guilty of gluttony. The problem wasn’t persistent hangovers, or missing work after being up all night partying. No, he was worried because he sometimes continued to eat after he had had sufficient. That ethic, that eating after you’ve had what you need was gluttony he had learned from a former diet guru whose empire collapsed when she embraced heresy. Still, the idea persisted.
It is not wrong to eat more than you need, nor is it wrong to have more than you need. There are, of course, gluttons, people whose entire lives center around the pursuit of sensual pleasure, who move from party to party. And there are people guilty of being acquisitive, of having an insatiable desire for more stuff, and who have the debt to demonstrate it. Neither the person who had two donuts during coffee hour at church, and who could afford to lose ten pounds, nor the person whose wrist watch cost more than a month of groceries for a family of four fall into those sinful categories.
The devil delights to lay traps for us in the ditches on both sides of the road. That way he can encourage behavior in one direction while pedaling guilt in the other. The Lord has laid on us a set of obligations. This is His law. Such requires of us that we return to Him a tithe of all He has blessed us with. It requires that we be good stewards of what remains. It also requires that we set aside a tithe so that we can purchase whatever our heart desires, steak and lobster dinners, well aged single malt, a wrist watch that costs more than a month of groceries for a family of four. Think I’m crazy? Read Deuteronomy 14: 22-27. It’s in there.
Just as there are those who tend to see wealth as a sign of God’s favor, so there are those who equate poverty with godliness. Proverbs, in its proverbial way, does say that God tends to bless those who are diligent and wise in their labors, and to bless them financially. And there are those who give up financial opportunities that are perfectly legitimate, for the sake of the kingdom. Just a few weeks ago I visited with a medical doctor whose wife is a medical doctor. Those two incomes would surely make this family “wealthy” by almost any standard. But they are giving all that up, and trying to raise money to serve as medical missionaries in western Africa. Good for them I say. Just as I would say if they ditched their medical careers to make a fortune investing in gold mines.
It is true that sins usually come with opposite sins. It is true as well that non-sins might lean us in the direction of real sins. But such cannot make sins of non-sins. Having nice things is no sin, and refusing nice things is no virtue. Ingratitude is a sin. Envy is a sin. Pride in one’s financial standing, on either side of the spectrum, is a sin. Godliness with contentment, that is great gain (I Tim. 6:6).
