By now you've probably heard about the tornadoes that killed four children at a Boy Scout camp in western Iowa. On the radio this morning they played an interview of one of the parents whose son survived the storm. During this interview, the father said something along the lines of "The whole time we were driving up there we were praying that our son wasn't one of the four who was dead." Apparently there were some significant delays between the time that the four nameless fatalities were announced and when parents were informed about the condition of their own respective children.
Now, I'm willing to cut this guy plenty of slack. I can't imagine sitting around for several hours wondering if my own son was dead. Good night. That being said, that quote has stuck with me today as I've wondered about the appropriateness of such a prayer. Knowing that there were indeed four fatalities, this man was basically praying that four other sets of parents would have to bear this grief, and that he would prefer this to himself having to suffer the loss of a child. I'm not saying that's an unreasonable preference, but is that something that he should have prayed? Would there have been something more appropriate for them to be praying? I'm not really sure.
If you've got an opinion on this, please leave a comment.
18For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth. 19For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. 20For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.
Christians spend an awful lot of time, energy, and money going around debating with The World about where we came from. We're always looking for that one bit of evidence, whether it be a uniquely complex microorganism, the proportionality of the Sun, Moon, and the Earth, or the fallibility of carbon dating, that will seal up the debate and convince the Darwinists that we've been right all along. Considering the great campaign to label Christian scientists (small "S") as Flat Earthers whose superstitions trump empirical truths, I suppose we've been lead to assume that the outcome of the debate will be settled on the basis of evidence. Not so, says I.
Paul reminds us that God's existence is obvious. It's not a matter of evidence. Everyone knows that God exists, and the fact that he created everything can be "clearly perceived… in the things that have been made." You don't need a lengthy explanation of the anatomy of the woodpecker's skull to know that God made everything. You just need to step outside.
To borrow from Lewis, to argue the existence of God based on evidence is like going outside at noon and displaying 8×10 images of shadows from around the world. "See the shadows in these photographs??? Aha! The sun must exist." If this were British television, a man in a Sherlock Holmes costume would enter the scene, take a puff on his pipe, and point skyward. We don't see God because we see everything else. We see everything else because we see God.
This is not to say that apologetics should be completely discarded. However, we should avoid the fallacy that the unbeliever will easily be converted once we've had a chance to show them our shiny suitcase full of evidence because evidence has never been the problem. A man who is able to casually dismiss the majesty of all creation, and its Creator, will remain unimpressed no matter how good your PowerPoint presentation is. The reality, again from Scripture, is that he hates God and refuses to acknowledge that He even exists, regardless of the "clearly perceived" evidence.
This reminds me of the old proverb about wrestling with a pig… you get all dirty, and he enjoys it. Rather than wasting your time trying to convince him that he's not the product of evolution, tell him that he's a sinner and that the reason he can't believe in creation is because every act of his life demonstrates his hatred of the Creator. Tell him that his faith shouldn't be placed in his knowledge of Darwinian biology, but in the Son of the Creator, who is restoring the creation to its original design. Tell him he can either join the Creator in this restorative process, or remain in rebellion against the things that, deep down, he knows to be true about the universe he finds himself in. Lastly, tell him that this Creator can spare him from the hopelessness that logically accompanies an existence that is without purpose, intention, or eternality.
Isaiah 33:5-6
[5]The Lord is exalted, for he dwells on high;
he will fill Zion with justice and righteousness,
[6]and he will be the stability of your times,
abundance of salvation, wisdom, and knowledge;
the fear of the Lord is Zion's treasure.
One of the basics you learn early on in the Christian life is that the way that God's economy works is usually the complete opposite of how we expect things to work. The Scriptures are full of examples of this. If you want to save your life, you have to lose it. If you want to inherit the earth, be meek. A king, the Son of God, is born in a stable. The scarlet blood of Jesus makes us white as snow. A boy who will eventually rule Egypt has to first be thrown into a cistern. The kingdom of heaven belongs to babies. On and on and on it goes.
So, it doesn't take long to grasp this concept and, by the grace of God, to employ it in your life. But it struck me today that I don't really understand why there is such a huge discrepancy between the way I think things should "normally" work versus how God says they actually are. Maybe it's that the things of God are foolishness to those who are perishing, and that he has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise. Or, maybe it is because we are so radically depraved that we call darkness light, and light darkness. We see the things of death (worldly riches, gratifying the lusts of the flesh, etc.) as attractive signs of abundant life.
How is it that we can get our thinking corrected so we are accustomed to valuing things the way God does? How can we finally begin to see life as life and death as death?
Maybe if they brushed up on their reformed theology every once in awhile they wouldn't be a fourth-string church.
From Crummy Church Signs, HT: Pyromaniacs
Following the Derek Webb interview podcast I mentioned the other day, the folks over at the 9marks blog are concerned that Derek "is stating the gospel differently than Reformed theologians have been stating it for a long time. Is this a 'different gospel'?"
The following is what Derek said in response to the question, "What is the Gospel?"
What a great question. I guess I’d probably…my instinct is to say that it's Jesus coming, living, dying, and being resurrected and his inaugurating the already and the not yet of all things being restored to himself…and that happening by way of himself…the being made right of all things…that process both beginning and being a reality in the lives and hearts of believers and yet a day coming when it will be more fully realized. But the good news, the gospel, the speaking of the good news, I would say is the news of his kingdom coming the inaugurating of his kingdom coming…that’s my instinct.
The gist of the comments on the post, and two follow up articles (1, 2) is that Derek's answer here is critically deficient in that it does not directly address the issues of sin, repentance, penal substitution, and so on. Some have even labeled Derek's remarks as being–gasp–emergent. I've already weighed in a couple of times, but I feel like this is an interesting enough question to explore it a little further over here.
First of all, the gospel that Derek is defining here is categorically different than what most people mean by "the gospel" in most churches today. We have come to understand the gospel as something transactional where God does something for us, we do something for him, and then we "get saved." The whole deal is understood from a "What's in it for me?" perspective. When we talk about sharing the gospel, what we often mean is taking someone down the Romans Road1 or explaining The Four Spiritual Laws to them, and then asking them if they want to accept Jesus into their heart. The whole deal is man-centered from start to finish.
Now, I don't mean to say that we should completely discard this understanding of the gospel. Continue reading this post »
Pete and I have this game we play where we take turns coming up with hypothetical confrontations between various animals, super heroes, and historical figures. It usually goes something like this…
Pete: Who would win in a fight between a snake and a, um, a SHARK?
Me: Man, that's a tough one but I think the shark would win because of its huge mouth with all of those big, huge teeth.
Pete: Yeah, you're probably right, but snakes are pretty tough, too.
Since it's been so bloomin' hot lately, we've all been sleeping together in the guest room in the basement. Aside from the blessedly cool temperature, another added benefit has been getting to talk to Pete while we all fall asleep.
Last night, after about 45 consecutive seconds of silence (that in itself is noteworthy), I heard Pete's little voice from his bed on the other side of the room. "Who would win in a fight," he asked, "between Jesus and a whale?" I immediately answered that Jesus, the Son of God, would easily win in a fight with a whale because he's JESUS! Pete agreed, adding that "Jesus could *punch* the whale right in the face and it would probably go away."
Can't argue with that logic.
The Presbyteer has written several times about the role of beasts in the Bible. Specifically, he has commented on the relationship between beasts and mankind. A quick summary:
- Adam was obedient to a beast, lost his dominion, and then was clothed like a beast and had to toil in the fields like a beast.
- Having lost his dominion over beasts, in his idolatry man worships images of beasts.
- When kings exalt themselves instead of submitting themselves to God's kingship, they become like beasts (e.g. Nebuchadnezzar in the book of Daniel).
- When the Israelites were entering Caanan, God's people drove out (or were at least supposed to drive out) the beastly people that were there. However, they were to do this gradually so the land wouldn't be filled with wild beasts (i.e. replacing beasts with beasts instead of replacing beasts with men).
- When they are unfaithful in the land, they are re-subjected to beasts in the form of Babylon, Persia, Greece, and Rome.
- Christ came to crush the head of the beast (i.e. the serpent) to restore, among other things obviously, man's dominion over beasts. Through Christ's work, man is re-humanized and restored to what he was created to be, including a ruler over beasts.
OK, so with that in mind, listen to what David says in 1 Samuel 17:34-37:
34But David said to Saul, "Your servant used to keep sheep for his father. And when there came a lion, or a bear, and took a lamb from the flock, 35I went after him and struck him and delivered it out of his mouth. And if he arose against me, I caught him by his beard and struck him and killed him. 36Your servant has struck down both lions and bears, and this uncircumcised Philistine shall be like one of them, for he has defied the armies of the living God." 37And David said, "The Lord who delivered me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine." And Saul said to David, "Go, and the Lord be with you!"
While it is cool to imagine David grabbing a bear by the beard and then killing it with primitive weaponry, I think God may be including these details for reasons greater than that. Keep reading…
When David came on the scene, Goliath was, in a sense, a king ruling over the armies of God. In the description found in vv. 5-7, we learn that he is arrayed like a king, with bronze and iron for his garments. He called the Israelites to send a man to be defeated by the king/beast, that the Israelites might become his servants (vv. 8-10). By killing one man, sent from God's people, Goliath the king/beast expected that he would have dominion over God's chosen race.
Enter David. Seeing the king/beast for the first time, he asks "Who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God?" God's anointed servant (1 Sam 16:13) overcomes the beast, even using Goliath's own sword to cut his head off. The beast/king is destroyed. God's people are freed from his tyranny, and they worship David and sing praises to him (1 Sam 18:6-7).
Christ, the beast killer foretold in Genesis 3, comes onto the scene many years later. From the house of David, named as God's anointed, he overcomes the beast. In fact, he even kills it with its own weapon; namely, death. Through the death of one man, God's people are freed from the beast's tyranny. Thus, they will praise the beast killer forever.
You can read Mark 11:12-25 for yourself, but here is the gist of the passage. On the day after his triumphal entry, Jesus returns to Jerusalem from Bethany. He sees a fig tree that is full of leaves, but upon closer inspection it is found to be completely devoid of fruit. Christ curses the tree, that it would never bear fruit again. Once he reaches Jerusalem, he enters the temple and sets himself to the task of clearing out the money changers and those who were selling doves. He and his disciples again spent the night in Bethany. The following morning, as they were making their way back to Jerusalem, Peter notices that the tree Jesus had cursed had withered away, to its very roots. In a rather cryptic explanation, Jesus explains that a man who has faith can tell "this mountain, 'Go, throw yourself into the sea.'" If the man does not doubt, this will be done for him. However, he cautions that when they pray they must forgive anyone that they are holding anything against, "so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins."
That's the summary, but you would do well to read it for yourself before you go any further here. Having said that, if you're anything like me, you will be thoroughly confused about what fig trees, overturned tables, and flying mountains have to do with each other. We studied this passage for our Sunday night Bible study this week, and I was amazed to find, upon further investigation, what I believe God is saying through his Word here. The following is my understanding of this passage, and you are more than welcome to comment if you disagree, especially if you think I'm missing the point here.
At any rate, off we go…
One of the literary devices Mark uses frequently in his Gospel is sequencing or sandwiching the telling of certain events together to make a larger point. In this case, we see that the order is as follows.
- Leafy fig tree, though devoid of fruit. Jesus passes judgment on it.
- Jesus enters the temple and passes judgment on it.
- Withered fig tree, having suffered the curse of Christ's judgment of it.
- Christ's explanation (sort of!) of what this all means.
From this structure, we see that the judgment of the fig tree is about much, much more than just a tree that refused to produce figs. We can also see that Jesus' teachings on prayer are about much, much more than just giving us a name-it-and-claim-it blank check, as long as we believe really, really, super hard that Jesus will give us a new Mercedes Benz. Continue reading this post »
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