Our actions in and reactions to the quotidian life are far better indicators of our philosophical and theological tenets than any creeds we confess or theological systems we espouse.

Our actions in and reactions to the quotidian life are far better indicators of our philosophical and theological tenets than any creeds we confess or theological systems we espouse.

The way to get your kids to want to eat vegetables is not by promising desert afterward or by threatening to punish them, but by making tasty vegetables. Similarly, the best way to get yourself or anyone else to want to pray, read the Bible, go to church, or interact with the living God in any other way is not by holding up promises of worldly rewards (comfort, friends, money, success, etc.) or threats of punishment (failure, disappointment, depression, eternal torture in hell, etc.); but by giving yourself and others a healthy helping of the gospel of our gracious and loving God himself - “Taste and see that YHWH is good!” (Ps. 34).  The savor of his love makes all other foods taste bland.

The way to get your kids to want to eat vegetables is not by promising desert afterward or by threatening to punish them, but by making tasty vegetables. Similarly, the best way to get yourself or anyone else to want to pray, read the Bible, go to church, or interact with the living God in any other way is not by holding up promises of worldly rewards (comfort, friends, money, success, etc.) or threats of punishment (failure, disappointment, depression, eternal torture in hell, etc.); but by giving yourself and others a healthy helping of the gospel of our gracious and loving God himself - “Taste and see that YHWH is good!” (Ps. 34).  The savor of his love makes all other foods taste bland.

The way to get your kids to want to eat vegetables is not by promising desert afterward or by threatening to punish them, but by making tasty vegetables. Similarly, the best way to get yourself or anyone else to want to pray, read the Bible, go to church, or interact with the living God in any other way is not by holding up promises of worldly rewards (comfort, friends, money, success, etc.) or threats of punishment (failure, disappointment, depression, eternal torture in hell, etc.); but by giving yourself and others a healthy helping of the gospel of our gracious and loving God himself - “Taste and see that YHWH is good!” (Ps. 34).  The savor of his love makes all other foods taste bland.

I think this passage really captures the biblical definition of the “fear-of-the-LORD”, particularly the last two lines of verse 12.

2 Chronicles 20:1-12 (ESV):

¹ After this the Moabites and Ammonites, and with them some of the Meunites, came against Jehoshaphat for battle. ² Some men came and told Jehoshaphat, “A great multitude is coming against you from Edom, from beyond the sea; and, behold, they are in Hazazon-tamar” (that is, Engedi). ³ Then Jehoshaphat was afraid and set his face to seek the Lord, and proclaimed a fast throughout all Judah. ⁴ And Judah assembled to seek help from the Lord; from all the cities of Judah they came to seek the Lord.

⁵ And Jehoshaphat stood in the assembly of Judah and Jerusalem, in the house of the Lord, before the new court, 6 and said, “O Lord, God of our fathers, are you not God in heaven? You rule over all the kingdoms of the nations. In your hand are power and might, so that none is able to withstand you. ⁷ Did you not, our God, drive out the inhabitants of this land before your people Israel, and give it forever to the descendants of Abraham your friend? ⁸ And they have lived in it and have built for you in it a sanctuary for your name, saying, ⁹ ‘If disaster comes upon us, the sword, judgment, or pestilence, or famine, we will stand before this house and before you—for your name is in this house—and cry out to you in our affliction, and you will hear and save.’ ¹⁰ And now behold, the men of Ammon and Moab and Mount Seir, whom you would not let Israel invade when they came from the land of Egypt, and whom they avoided and did not destroy— ¹¹ behold, they reward us by coming to drive us out of your possession, which you have given us to inherit. ¹² O our God, will you not execute judgment on them? For we are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.”

You wouldn’t be so surprised by your sin if you didn’t think so highly of yourself.

- Steve Brown

An idol is something you rely on instead of God for your salvation. One of the religious idols is your moral record: “God accepts me because I’m living a good life.” I’m a Presbyterian, so I’m all for right doctrine. But you can start to feel very superior to everyone else and think, God is pleased with me because I’m so true to the right doctrine. The right doctrine and one’s moral record are forms of power. Another is ministry success, similar to the idol of achievement. There are religious versions of sex, money, and power, and they are pretty subtle.

- Rev. Tim Keller, author of Counterfeit Gods: The Empty Promises of Money, Sex and Power, and the Only Hope that Matters, from an interview with Christianity Today (complete interview at http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2009/november/1.71.html)

Quote quoted from here.

An idol is something you rely on instead of God for your salvation. One of the religious idols is your moral record: “God accepts me because I’m living a good life.” I’m a Presbyterian, so I’m all for right doctrine. But you can start to feel very superior to everyone else and think, God is pleased with me because I’m so true to the right doctrine. The right doctrine and one’s moral record are forms of power. Another is ministry success, similar to the idol of achievement. There are religious versions of sex, money, and power, and they are pretty subtle.

- Rev. Tim Keller, author of Counterfeit Gods: The Empty Promises of Money, Sex and Power, and the Only Hope that Matters, from an interview with Christianity Today (complete interview at http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2009/november/1.71.html)

Quote quoted from here.

So you feel distant from the Lord, cold, and unmotivated by the gospel. You would not openly say that you disbelieve what God says in his Word, it’s just that your life and actions show that you don’t believe it wholeheartedly - like the man in the mirror in James 1:22-25, you assent to its teachings but walk away unchanged in any deep way that will affect your future behavior or thoughts. You know that you need to avail yourself of the “means of grace”, to read the scriptures more, have them preached to you more, and to preach to yourself, to participate in the Lord’s Supper, to come to the Lord in prayer and ask for the grace to change and to grow.

But what do you do when you can’t even bring yourself to do these things? What do you do when you know that the only reason you come to church and take communion is because you are more afraid of what other people think and say than what God thinks and says and you don’t want them asking questions or criticizing or offering lame advice?

What do you do when you feel like the Bible has nothing new or helpful to say (or at least not to you - like maybe you’re not the intended audience), and most of the time you can’t do anything to make yourself read it, or at least read it with attentive hopefulness?

What do you do when it seems like your prayers are nothing but echoes into a big dark empty room, or maybe a room filled with the members of someone else’s family all crowded around someone else’s loving father, and you can no longer even bring yourself to open your mouth to speak to him for fear of somehow confirming your suspicions.

What do you do when people tell you what you need is just to pray more and read the Bible more, but you have run out of all motivations to do so (even the wrong motivations, like trying to make yourself and others think that you’re better than you really are)?

What do you do when you know that your biggest problem is that you don’t love and fear God enough (if at all), and that fact (and its very recognition) has effectively eviscerated your impulse to do anything else for the right reasons?

What do you do when the sluggard of Proverbs 26:14-16 and Israel as described in Jeremiah 2:25 both sound like you?

What do you do when the Bible tells you to change, and then also says that there’s nothing you can do to change yourself? Do you sit and wait? Do you do whatever you can do and hope that God will maybe give you the grace to do more?

Please, give me your thoughts, responses, and counsel.

When a given sentence has been artificially taken out of context…the features of the world that we take to be normal, and our usual expectations of our world (as far as [we may think] these are relevant to the utterance) serve as an implicit context (the default frame) determining our interpretation.

E. F. Kittay, Metaphor: Its Cognitive Force and Linguistic Structure

(Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1987), 55-59.

One of the things that has become clearer to me over this summer is the fact that each of us is always declaring some gospel - with our words, with our actions, with our tone of voice, etc… Whenever we interpret (to ourselves or to others) the significance of the circumstances of life (our personal lives, politics, relationships, etc.) and set a value on those circumstances (”good”, “bad”, “hopeful”, “hopeless”) we are locating those circumstances within a larger narrative - a big picture story of how we understand life in general and our own lives in particular.

For instance, if Laura and I come home from the grocery store and she runs in the house carrying one little bag and leaves me to carry in the rest, and then on the way up the stairs I badly stub my toe and trip and spill all the groceries I am carrying down the stairs, I am now presented with a set of life circumstances which I now have to (and will) interpret, and I will most likely proclaim my interpretation of these circumstances right then and there. If I am angry it is because I have opted for a particular interpretation of the events, not because I have simply responded to circumstances in the only way conceivable. From one perspective, my plight is morally neutral - you could say that nothing more is involved than bodies and matter in motion, and such things merit neither a positive or negative response. But as Cornelius Van Til has helpfully pointed out, for us, there are no “brute facts” - all facts must be and are interpreted in some way.

So then, why do I choose anger as the “appropriate response”? The answer to that question will extend far into the way I understand thing like the meaning of life, God’s sovereignty and attitude toward me, what people are for, justice and fairness, and so on. Likewise, my response to these circumstances will proclaim or “preach” the answer to these questions to myself and to those around me. If I let loose a string of profanity and complain to Laura that she hasn’t helped me like she should, or if I just quietly pick up the mess and am cold to her for the next couple of hours, I have just declared to her and myself what I believe to be the significance of what has just happened in the grand scheme of things.

The painful conviction that has struck me more and more is that the “gospel” I preach to Laura and to my friends and family by the way that I choose to interpret and respond to the circumstances of life is usually either the antithesis of the real gospel or some deceptive and twisted perversion of that gospel. I am rightly (albeit insufficiently) ashamed of this fact and brought once more to the place where I must say, “I am way worse than I thought, and way more in need of God’s grace and help to change than I thought”. Praise God for his merciful provision through Jesus Christ, who not only freed me from the eternal consequences of my sin, but has also set his Holy Spirit to the work of transforming me to the likeness of his Son!

The pastor who mentored me during my internship this summer challenged me by asking me to articulate the gospel of Christ in a way that is not only technically accurate but also winsome; in a way that shows that it really is “good news” to all who will embrace it; in a way that gets at the wonderful “old old story” that never gets old. This has proved a difficult task for me for a number of reasons. 1. Right now I am in a place where I am not particularly inspired or gripped by the gospel. 2. I feel like I don’t really have all of the details of it sorted out in my head in an accurate biblical way and I am prone to leaving out important details. 3. I’m having a hard time figuring out what makes it a “good story” that goes beyond either “pie in the sky by and by” or “Jesus came to fix up my day-to-day life”.

So I’m hoping that you will take a shot and give me your two cents. What is so great to you about the story of salvation?

(Colin’s going to say I’m cheating by asking you all this, but I don’t care )

In a discussion with a couple of pastors this morning on the topic of Christ-centered preaching/teaching it occurred to me that one can bring the accomplished and applied work of Jesus Christ to bear on any passage of scripture, but do so in a way that flatly and simplistically portrays Him. It is good to remember that, for whatever reason, God brought his people Israel down a very long road before fully unveiling the glorious salvation found in Christ. When the Messiah did come, everything that he did and said was pregnant with a profound significance that wove itself through every story of the Jewish scriptures. It is for this reason that we must continually dive back into the world of the Old Testament in order to properly understand and teach others about Christ. To sum up the identity and saving work of Jesus without reference to the story of His people as presented in the OT is to miss who He really is. In a sense, whether we are studying for ourselves or teaching others, we must continually retrace the lines of redemptive history in order to properly place any given element from God’s story.

In a discussion with a couple of pastors this morning on the topic of Christ-centered preaching/teaching it occurred to me that one can bring the accomplished and applied work of Jesus Christ to bear on any passage of scripture, but do so in a way that flatly and simplistically portrays Him. It is good to remember that, for whatever reason, God brought his people Israel down a very long road before fully unveiling the glorious salvation found in Christ. When the Messiah did come, everything that he did and said was pregnant with a profound significance that wove itself through every story of the Jewish scriptures. It is for this reason that we must continually dive back into the world of the Old Testament in order to properly understand and teach others about Christ. To sum up the identity and saving work of Jesus without reference to the story of His people as presented in the OT is to miss who He really is. In a sense, whether we are studying for ourselves or teaching others, we must continually retrace the lines of redemptive history in order to properly place any given element from God’s story.

I have been rather discouraged lately with the distance that I feel between myself and the Lord and with my unwillingness to follow Him. Today I went back to one of my favorite books, The Letters of John Newton, and was encouraged by his letter entitled, How to keep close to the Lord, and I thought I’d post it here in case others might wrestle with the same things. I particularly appreciate the humility with which Newton addresses this subject.

How to keep close to the Lord

Dear Madam,

You would have me tell you what are the best means to be used by a young person, to prevent the world, with all its opening and ensnaring scenes, from drawing the heart aside from God. It is an important question; but I apprehend your own heart will tell you, that you are already possessed of all the information concerning it which you can well expect from me. I could only attempt to answer it from the Bible, which lies open to you likewise. If your heart is like mine, it must confess, that when it turns aside from God, it is seldom through ignorance of the proper means or motives which should have kept us near him, but rather from an evil principle within, which prevails against our better judgment, and renders us unfaithful to light already received.

I could offer you rules, cautions, advices in abundance; for I find it comparatively easy to preach to others. But if you should further ask me, “How shall I effectually reduce them to practice?” I feel that I am so deficient, and so much at a loss in this matter myself, that I know not well what to say to you. Yet something must be said.

In the first place, then, I would observe, that though it be our bounden duty, and the highest privilege we can propose to ourselves, to have our hearts kept close to the Lord; yet we must not expect it absolutely or perfectly, much less all at once: we shall keep close to him, in proportion as we are solidly convinced of the infinite disparity between him and the things which would presume to stand in competition with him, and the folly, as well as ingratitude, of departing from him. But these points are only to be learned from experience, and by smarting under a series of painful disappointments in our expectations from creatures. Our judgements may be quickly satisfied that his favour is better than life, while yet it is in the power of a mere trifle to turn us aside. The Lord permits us to feel our weakness, that we may be sensible of it; for though we are ready in words to confess that we are weak, we do not so properly know it, till that secret, though unallowed, dependence we have upon some strength in ourselves, is brought to the trial, and fails us. To be humble, and, like a little child, afraid of taking a step alone, and so conscious of snares and dangers around us, as to cry to him continually to hold us up that we may be safe, is the sure, the infallible, the only secret of walking closely with him.

But how shall we attain this humble frame of spirit? It must be, as I said, from a real and sensible conviction of our weakness and vileness, which we cannot learn (at least I have not been able to learn it) merely from books or preachers. The providence of God concurs with his Holy Spirit in his merciful design of making us acquainted with ourselves. It is indeed a great mercy to be preserved from such declensions as might fall under the notice of our fellow-creatures; but when they can observe nothing of consequence to object to us, things may be far from right with us in the sight of him who judges not only actions, but the thoughts and first motions of the heart. And indeed could we for a season so cleave to God as to find little or nothing in ourselves to be ashamed of, we are such poor creatures, that we should presently grow vain and self-sufficient, and expose ourselves to the greatest danger of falling.

There are, however, means to be observed on our part; and though you know them, I will repeat the principal, because you desire me.  The first is Prayer; and here, above all things, we should pray for humility. It may be called both the guard of all other graces, and the soil in which they grow.   The second, Attention to the Scripture.  Your question is directly answered in Psalm 119:9.   The precepts are our rule and delight, the promises our strength and encouragement: the good recorded of the saints is proposed for our encouragement; their miscarriages are as land-marks set up to warn us of the rocks and shoals which lie in the way of our passage. The study of the whole scheme of Gospel-salvation, respecting the person, life, doctrine, death, and glory of our Redeemer, is appointed to form our souls to a spiritual and divine taste; and so far as this prevails and grows in us, the trifles that would draw us from the Lord, will lose their influence, and appear, divested of the glare with which they strike the senses, mere vanity and nothing.   The third grand means is, Consideration or Recollection; a careful regard to those temptations and snares, to which, from our tempers, situations, or connections, we are more immediately exposed, and by which we have been formerly hindered.   It may be well in the morning, ere we leave our chambers, to forecast, as far as we are able, the probable circumstances of the day before us.   Yet the observance of this, as well as of every rule that can be offered, may dwindle into a mere form. However, I trust the Lord, who has given you a desire to live to him, will be your guard and teacher. There is none teacheth like him.

I am, &c.

I have observed a dual pair of critical impulses in my thinking when I am bothered by someone else’s interpretation of a passage of Scripture. On the one hand, I may question whether their interpretation can be derived from the immediate Scriptural context in the way that they have suggested. But then on the other hand, I may then question whether their interpretation is consistent with the testimony of Scripture as a whole.

Now obviously, both of these are valid and legitimate questions, which always ought to be asked about any interpretation. But it is significant to note that while anyone can easily make either of these two hermeneutical errors, logically they mutually exclusive. In other words, if you are paying very careful attention to the immediate context of a passage and making the mistake of not heeding its significance within its larger canonical context, it is impossible to simultaneously make the mistake of reading that same interpretation into the passage by not paying careful enough attention to the immediate context. It is of course possible that you could come to one mistaken conclusion that is based upon the first error, and then immediately come to a second mistaken conclusion based upon the second error, but this does not seem very likely. Most of the time we tend toward a pattern of one extreme or the other, either reading too much into a text, or blinkering ourselves to the interpretive significance of the larger context.

But what I find disturbing is the fact that when I encounter a bothersome interpretation of a text, I am often suspicious of both errors. I may first say, “I don’t see how he’s getting that out of this text!” And when he shows me how it is a legitimate interpretation within the context, I may then think, “Well, he’s probably just not paying enough attention to the larger context of this passage (or chapter, or book, or Scripture as a whole, etc…)”.

While it makes sense to be alert for either of two of the most common hermeneutical errors, the fact that I suspect these two mutually exclusive errors, one on the heels of the other, suggests that another motive is at work in me. It suggests that I have the tendency to challenge and discount any interpretation that makes me uncomfortable, for whatever reason that might be. I might be able to come up with a seemingly valid critique of the person’s hermeneutical method, but the fact is, I was looking for a reason to discount their interpretation because its implications were bothersome to me.  This is not a healthy tendency, and it is good to be wary of it whenever I evaluate another’s interpretation of Scripture. The goal of exegeting Scripture should always be to better understand and come to grips with what it is really saying, not being comfortable with what we think says.

I have observed a dual pair of critical impulses in my thinking when I am bothered by someone else’s interpretation of a passage of Scripture. On the one hand, I may question whether their interpretation can be derived from the immediate Scriptural context in the way that they have suggested. But then on the other hand, I may then question whether their interpretation is consistent with the testimony of Scripture as a whole.

Now obviously, both of these are valid and legitimate questions, which always ought to be asked about any interpretation. But it is significant to note that while anyone can easily make either of these two hermeneutical errors, logically they mutually exclusive. In other words, if you are paying very careful attention to the immediate context of a passage and making the mistake of not heeding its significance within its larger canonical context, it is impossible to simultaneously make the mistake of reading that same interpretation into the passage by not paying careful enough attention to the immediate context. It is of course possible that you could come to one mistaken conclusion that is based upon the first error, and then immediately come to a second mistaken conclusion based upon the second error, but this does not seem very likely. Most of the time we tend toward a pattern of one extreme or the other, either reading too much into a text, or blinkering ourselves to the interpretive significance of the larger context.

But what I find disturbing is the fact that when I encounter a bothersome interpretation of a text, I am often suspicious of both errors. I may first say, “I don’t see how he’s getting that out of this text!” And when he shows me how it is a legitimate interpretation within the context, I may then think, “Well, he’s probably just not paying enough attention to the larger context of this passage (or chapter, or book, or Scripture as a whole, etc…)”.

While it makes sense to be alert for either of two of the most common hermeneutical errors, the fact that I suspect these two mutually exclusive errors, one on the heels of the other, suggests that another motive is at work in me. It suggests that I have the tendency to challenge and discount any interpretation that makes me uncomfortable, for whatever reason that might be. I might be able to come up with a seemingly valid critique of the person’s hermeneutical method, but the fact is, I was looking for a reason to discount their interpretation because its implications were bothersome to me.  This is not a healthy tendency, and it is good to be wary of it whenever I evaluate another’s interpretation of Scripture. The goal of exegeting Scripture should always be to better understand and come to grips with what it is really saying, not being comfortable with what we think says.